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huramuna · 4 months

Text

growing on you - oneshot.

modern aemond x (ex) girlfriend reader

content: smut (specifics under the cut), afab reader, angst, unhealthy coping mechanisms, descriptions of depression and its effect on the body, probably an unhealthy relationship, aemond being an idiot, probably ooc aemond, reader not described, no use of y/n, targtowers seek therapy: the story, fluff at the end bc hehe

work is 18+, minors do not interact or you shall be smited.

word count: 7.4k (oops)

a/n: i've had this one in the drafts for a while. tweaked to be a fun 'lil angsty end of year holiday fic. as is my motto: fuck it we ball. a/n 2: i pivoted from a third person pov fic to a second person pov fic 3/4 through writing this using the find and replace tool, so if there are grammar errors, i apologize! also my first time doing second person pov, weehee.

monsters - all time low ft. blackbear • why do i - set it off ft. hatsune miku

warnings: p in v, creampie, cockwarming, slightly tipsy sex

Everything in your life was enveloped by him. your clothes smelled like him, small strands of his hair were woven into every nook and cranny of your apartment together, his fitness regime protein powder and ketogenic supplements were littered in your kitchen cabinets.

You couldn’t get rid of him, not even if you tried. Aemond was all you'd ever known— you have known one another since the age of seven, and have been in a relationship since fourteen. You were both now twenty-six. Twelve years you’ve been together romantically (longer, even, but you were both too stubborn to admit it) and nineteen years you’ve been in each other's lives in some capacity or another.

You’ve been involved together longer than you’ve not known each other. You hardly knew who you were without Aemond— a thought that scared you deeply.

It’s been two weeks since he moved out, only temporarily he’d said. He needed space. He would still pay his share of the rent and you didn’t need to worry about that.

But what about everything else? What about him warming you at night? Comforting you when you had nightmares? What about his items in the fridge, surely you’d spoil if he didn’t use them soon. What about Vhagar? Their— no, his geriatric cat that he took with him to God knows where— she must be terrified, surely.

Was he giving Vhagar her medicine before bed? Of course he was— he was the more responsible one anyway.

You paced back and forth until the soles of your feet ached and then some. Knowing Aemond for so long, you had intimate knowledge on everything about him, you were woven into each other's DNA like vines on a trellis, growing and expanding until you swallowed all of the other plants whole.

That is what happened, wasn’t it? You grew too large, too comfortable and became stagnant. You weren't unaware of his rising workload at his firm, but he had always been a workaholic— throughout their teenage years, through college and grad school. It never slowed him down so you didn’t understand the change in behavior.

Aemond was closed off. He always was a bit emotionally stunted due to his upbringing or lack thereof from his father and everything that happened surrounding his eye, but he had a soft side for you, always for you. You could retrace every part of him perfectly from memory, always could make him laugh, could comfort him when he recused himself, and the rare times he did cry, you were there.

But the last few months there was a shift— a change in him. Where he had been hard to open before, like a rusty hinge just requiring some oil, he was now padlocked, ironclad and impenetrable. Attempts to talk were shrugged off, ignored or diverted.

“Please, just talk to me, Aemond,” you said one night as you sat on the couch. You were watching your collective favorite show and he wasn’t even commenting on it like he usually did, he was silent and deadpanned. “I don’t understand what’s wrong if you don’t talk about it.”

“There's nothing wrong, therefore, nothing to talk about. I’m just tired from work,” he responded gruffly. “Stop whining.”

His tone was clipped and harsh, sending a wave of hurt trickling through your body. you were overly emotional, where he was under emotional— usually, you balanced each other out and struck a good middle ground, but in times like these, during fights, things would get explosive.

The tears started right away, your little sniffling cries stifled by a hand over your mouth. You turned away, wrapping yourself in the blanket.

“Seriously?” he growled, “I didn’t even say anything and you’re fucking crying again.”

“I d-don’t appreciate your tone, Aemond— you’re being mean,” you sniffed, wiping away tears that were soon just replaced by new ones. “Please, don’t be mean to me.” you were always soft hearted, and it was one of the things Aemond loved about you— or he had loved at one point.

“I’m not being mean,” he pinched his brow, “you’re overreacting and I do not have the capacity to deal with your antics anymore.”

Of course, your mind hit the panic button. ‘Anymore’ meaning that he didn’t want to deal with you at all, ever. The tears increased and you recused yourself further into a ball.

“Fucking hell.” he cursed, getting up from the couch and stomping outside to the balcony, lighting up a cigarette. He was out there for about an hour— you had cried yourself to sleep.

It was many situations like that for weeks that finally just… broke him.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he said one day, slamming his keys down on the kitchen table, “I seriously cannot deal with your childish shit anymore— I’m working my ass off at the firm, actually bringing in money and I still have to come home and tend to you. you’re twenty-six, grow up and stop crying at every little thing. It’s fucking infuriating.”

“You know I can’t control that part of me!” you screamed back, your temper rising immediately to match his. The words flowing out of your mouth didn’t feel like yours, but some sort of defensive mechanism. “You can’t do this anymore? You’re not doing anything Aemond, except pushing me away. God, you haven’t even touched me in weeks.”

“Oh, so this is about sex?” he countered, getting closer to you, nostrils flaring. “You’re mad because I won’t fuck you? Are you that desperate?”

That one stung, to be sure. Aemond had been your first and only— you only ever knew him, only ever had him. “No, not just sex,” you murmured, “you haven’t even… just touched me normally. No hugs, no little caresses, nothing— it's as if I’m an aversion to you.”

He backed up from you, “Maybe we’re just too close,” he admitted, “We’ve been together too long. It's not fun anymore, it’s not new— it’s the same old, same old, going through the motions for release, not because I actually like it.”

“I don’t understand.” you said, your voice sounding disconnected from your body. The tips of your fingers felt numb, the numbness spreading through your body, your heart pounding in your chest as if it wanted to escape.

“I need space. I need to think about this.”

“This?”

“Us. I need to think about us and if this is something I really want,” he paused, “You’re… too much and not enough right now.”

“Wh— Aemond, please,” you whispered, your voice broken, “What can I do? I’ll… I’ll change, I won’t cry or whine anymore— please.”

He stared at you, his prosthetic eye unmoving while his remaining one bored into you, “I will think about it.”

“What… does this mean?”

“We are taking a break, alright? I’ll have my essentials out and I’m going to stay with Aegon.”

“Please— don’t go. I need you.”

That was the end of that conversation. That was the last time you spoke, two weeks ago. You expected him to text you at some point, to check in on you, to maybe try to talk things out.

Nothing. There's been nothing. Radio silence.

You felt isolated— you had no family, as your parents were estranged from you. you couldn’t go to Aemond’s family, as close as you were to them all, it just simply wasn’t an option.

You didn’t have friends. All you knew was Aemond.

It was early in the evening and you were in a deep pit of self-loathing. You decided to text him.

You swallowed thickly— the green meant he either turned off his phone or blocked you. You hoped that it wasn’t the latter.

The next few weeks were a blur. You felt like you were barely living, merely going through the motions to stay alive— not that you really were.

You woke up, went to work, came home, scrounged up food and then went to sleep. Rinse and repeat.

Weeks become months of your monotony, and no word from Aemond. He still had half of his stuff left in the apartment, you felt like you could barely breathe. At every turn there was something to remind you of him.

You’d lived in this apartment together for four years, the evidence of your relationship etched into the very walls. It was like the space was closing in on you and you couldn’t catch your breath, barely keeping your head above water.

You had to move out— you had to get away.

You managed to find a place, a cheap studio above a coffee shop downtown. The landlord was an old lady who was sympathetic to your situation and agreed to let you take the space quickly.

There was still the matter of your and Aemond’s current apartment— or, rather, it was just Aemond’s now.

Saving yourself the embarrassment of seeing if you were still blocked, you called Aegon. He was a better messenger than none.

“Hey, Egg,” you said, sitting on the couch. you bounced your knee up and down, biting at the skin of your lip. You and Aegon were amicable, not necessarily as close as you and Aemond, but you grew up together. Aegon ran in different social circles than you and you were somewhat polar opposites so you never really stuck— you did have your phases of friendship, though– which pissed Aemond off to no end. “Um, I don’t know if this is the right way to go about things but, do you mind relaying a message to Aemond for me?”

“Yeah, ‘spose I could. What’s up?” Aegon replied, his tone nonchalant like usual.

“I’m moving out of the apartment into my own place, so I guess he can go back. I’ll have all my stuff out by tomorrow.”

“Fuckin’ finally,” Aegon said, “He’s been driving me up the wall with his tidy, feng shui bullshit. He rearranged my whole place like five times and has taken up all the space in my cabinets with that nasty no-carb shit,” he paused for a moment, “I… didn’t mean that in a bad way to you, ‘course. I’m sorry it had to come to this. He’s a fucking idiot.”

That made you laugh, genuinely. Your first laugh in months. “Yeah– he… tends to do that. He left half of his stuff here, it feels like I’m living in the twilight zone. I just… gotta get away, you know?”

“Hey, I get that– you don’t have to explain yourself to me. He’s a dickhead and doesn’t understand how good he has it. If you want, I can bring my truck over tomorrow and help you move stuff.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Egg.”

“I want to– please.”

Your brow furrowed– Aegon usually wasn’t so persistent on anything unless it involved drinking or drugs. But, you hadn’t had real human contact in eons besides at work so… maybe it could be good.

“Okay, see you tomorrow. Thank you, really.”

–

It was rainy the next day– nasty and wet, droplets pouring down like tears. It felt somewhat familiar.

But, Aegon showed up like he promised, rolling up in his old, fading yellow pick-up truck. His hair was much shorter than you remembered and he looked actually well kept– Aemond must’ve been whipping him into shape.

He waved and ran through the rain, standing under the eave, “So– it’s raining.”

You snorted, “I think I can see that,” you teased with a tiny smile, “Not sure when it’ll let up.”

“I brought uh…” he paused for a moment to think, stretching out his arms in a square shape, “Y’know?”

“A tarp?”

“Yup– that,” he gave a lopsided grin, inviting himself in through the open door, “you aren’t going to kick me out if I don’t take off my shoes, right?”

You glanced down at his boots– they were a bit muddy and definitely wet. Aemond wouldn’t have let him step two feet through the threshold without taking them off. But– you weren't Aemond. “No, keep them on if you want. It’s not my problem if you track dirt through the place anyway.”

He nodded, taking his phone out of his pocket for a moment and shooting a quick message to someone. “Sorry I haven’t been around, it’s just… he’s my brother. It would be kind of… I dunno, crossing some sort of unsaid boundary if I visited his… girlfriend?”

“Ex-girlfriend. I guess,” you corrected softly– but you didn’t really know yourself what it was. He wouldn’t talk to you, “It’s fine. I didn’t expect anyone to really reach out anyway, because of that… unsaid boundary thing.”

“We should’ve. you’re a part of our family with or without Aemond. Me, Helaena and Daeron have a whole group chat about it. Even mom asked where you’ve been,” he scratched the back of his head absentmindedly as he sent out another text, “Someone should’ve checked up sooner.”

“You’re acting like I’m some sort of neglected puppy, Aegon,” you turned to him, “... do I really look so terrible?”

Aegon glanced up at you, his mouth formed in a hard line. He cracked his knuckles, shrugging his shoulders. “I won’t lie to you. You look half dead.”

You blinked. Hard. Moving towards a mirror in the hall, you looked at yourself. Dark circles under sunken eyes, your skin was a pale pallor and your hair needed a trim desperately, your split ends curled and fettered. You were gaunt, as well– having lost a bit of weight over the months. “Jesus,” you muttered. Glancing over at Aegon, he was texting again. “Sending an update to the group chat, I guess? ‘Good news, she’s still alive, barely’?”

He snorted, “Yeah– something like that,” finally, he locked his phone and slipped it in his pocket. “I made sure to text Aemond, too.”

Your mouth felt dry at the mention. “Why?”

“He asked.”

“Asked?”

“He asked me to… make sure you were okay.”

Goosebumps prickled at your skin, the ever familiar feeling of nausea and despair swirling in the pit of your stomach. Nibbling at your lip more, you turned away, feeling a bit too exposed. “And what’d you say?”

“I said you were alive but you are not okay.”

Your lips pursed into a line as you tasted a bit of copper in your mouth from chewing on your lip. “I guess that’s right,” you muttered, “Why would he ask?”

“Aemond is… complicated. you know that better than anyone. I don’t know what kind of bug he has up his ass these last few months but… even through all of this, he still cares.”

“Like hell he does,” you snapped, feeling the sting of tears, “If he did, he would’ve given us a chance to talk it out, to… to try, maybe even go to therapy, I don’t fucking know– he would’ve reached out– anyone should’ve reached out,” your hand went to your hair, right at your hairline at your scalp, picking at the hairs there– another self-destructive habit you’ve picked up in your months of isolation, “I’m so fucking alone, Aegon. He knows… you all know I have absolutely no one else. I’ve been going through this on my own. I have no friends, no family– no brother to go live with when I need space, no family group chat. I don’t have shit, Aegon. All I’ve ever known in my life is him and you and Helaena and Daeron and mom. Why… why does it feel like I was cast off the island without even… a tribal council or something?” you sniffed, the tears coming in full force now.

Aegon was silent, coming up behind you. “I’m… sorry,” he murmured, putting his hands on your shoulders, as frail and skeletal as you were, “We should’ve been better. We… will be better.” he turned you around and pulled you into his chest, enveloping you in his arms. “We thought you would’ve been… fine without him. He made it seem like that– that you were strong enough. I only figured it out yesterday when he was up my ass about texting him as soon as I saw you. He needed to know if you were feeding yourself, if you were keeping up with your medication, if you still had nightmares. A fuckin’... laundry list of questions– I told him to stick his questions up where the sun don’t shine and to see for himself,” he took a breath, “He settled on one question– if you were okay.”

“I think he got his fucking answer, then,” you whispered, “I am not okay. I haven’t been okay in months. I… I need help.”

“I know,” Aegon shifted you slightly to look at your face, “We’ll help you– I promise, you won’t be alone anymore. Look, I’ll even add you to the group chat, okay? I’ll rename it to ‘Aemond Sucks’, how does that sound?”

You cracked a tiny smile, sniffling. “Yeah… I’d like that.”

–

You ended up moving your belongings to your new place the same day, effectively ridding yourself of the constant shadow of Aemond’s memory.

Aegon even took you to Michael’s and HomeGoods to get stuff for your little studio, so you could really make it yours. It was a bit intimidating at first– you weren't used to being able to decorate things the way you wanted, as Aemond always opted to keep things simple and minimalistic.

You, admittedly, went all out. Your new studio looked like a Pinterest board titled ‘cottagecore’. You were incredibly happy with it all, practically jumping up and down at it.

“It looks so good! I love these little mushroom chairs you picked out, Egg,” you hummed, patting some plush felted stools in the shape of mushrooms, which you put near the window. “I bet Helaena would love it.”

“Let’s take some pictures for the group chat, Hel will literally be all over this. you two always love that cottagecore, fairycore, fantasy… shit.” he grinned, stooping down to take some very out of perspective pictures of the mushroom chairs, making them look fifty feet tall.

You settled into your new place quickly, having Helaena, Aegon and Daeron over quite often for drinks and movies. Your health steadily improved until you were mostly back to normal physically– there would be a lot of scars internally, however that would take longer to heal, if you ever would. You had developed a trust issue complex since Aemond’s unceremonious exit from your life and hadn’t gone on any dates, you didn’t know when or if you would ever be ready. They did you the courtesy of not mentioning Aemond, until Daeron said something odd.

It was about four months after you moved in, and almost a full year since you’d last seen Aemond. You were all a few mixed drinks in, Aegon had made them and you were heavy on the alcohol, light on the ‘mix’, and you were all kicked back on the couch, with Aegon laying on the mushroom chairs stacked next to each other, lazed back like a cat.

“Mom says she wants you over for Christmas dinner,” Daeron said, taking a sip of his drink, “She figured it’d be fine with Aemond going off with his new…” he blinked, catching himself.

Helaena nudged Daeron in the ribs as a warning, staring at their friend warily.

“... his new? His new what?” you asked, your voice so quiet that it must’ve been like a squeak.

“... new girlfriend.” he finished.

You were silent for a while before sighing. “I figured it would happen eventually. I can only hope that it… wasn’t too soon after we broke up– or whatever… happened.”

“We all told him it was fucked up that he just left and ghosted you, lovey. Even mom got on his ass about it, and he is her favorite child who usually can do no wrong.” Helaena put her drink down, wrapping her arm around you. “You should come to Christmas dinner, everyone would be super happy to see you! And Aemond won’t be there, so even more reason to come. Please.” she whimpered, using her best puppy-dog face.

You mulled it over in your mind for a few moments. You couldn’t think of anything more painful than being alone during the holidays, so you nodded.

–

It was snowing on Christmas day, the flurries coming down and melting against your skin as you waited for Aegon to pick you up. You were wearing a red checkered tapestry dress with a flannel jacket, a white fluffed scarf wrapped around your neck and lower face. As soon as you saw the familiar color of Aegon’s truck, you practically booked it into the passenger seat.

“Merry Christmas, you look fantastic,” Aegon mused, ever the charmer. “I’ve got the heater on full blast, I promise– but y’know my old boy’s puttering these days. We’ll need to get some speed for it to really warm up.”

“Mmm,” you murmured, your teeth chattering, “S’cold.”

He reached back and grabbed a well-used blanket, draping it over your legs. “Better?”

“... yeah– but,” you blinked, raising a brow. “What do you have this in the truck for?”

Aegon laughed as he began the drive to his family’s estate. “I think you know.”

“Please don’t tell me you’ve fucked someone on this blanket, Aegon.”

“Someones– not just someone. But I keep it clean, no worries!”

The drive to the Targaryen estate was about an hour and a half from town, nestled deep into an expansive forest where there weren’t any other homes in at least five miles. It was a gorgeous, Victorian style mansion and according to Daeron, was most certainly haunted. You had been here numerous times, of course, but it’d been a while. As you pulled up in the driveway, you saw Alicent standing outside the door dressed in a gorgeous red and green festive dress, hair curled to perfection. Nothing less was expected of Alicent, though.

“Oh, my darling,” Alicent cooed, holding her arms out to caress who she thought of as her fifth child. “It’s been too long, I’ve missed you.”

Your heart warmed under Alicent’s caress, someone who had become more of a mother figure to you than your actual mother. You sniffed, pressing your forehead into Alicent’s shoulder. “Missed you too, mom.”

“Come on, you both can cry inside in the nice toasty house, yeah? I’m freezing my balls off here, mom.”

Alicent huffed, ushering both of you inside. “Don’t be vulgar, son– it’s Christmas.”

Helaena and Daeron were already there, as well as Otto, who gave you a stiff nod as a greeting, as was his usual means of communication.

You settled into the kitchen, Alicent pouring everyone apple cider and dishing out at least six types of holiday themed cookies. About an hour after arriving, there was a knock on the door.

“Oh, that must be Rhaenyra and Laena. Can you answer the door, darling? I need to take the roast out of the oven. I’m sure they would be happy to see you!”

“Mhm!” you mused through bites of cookies. You loved Rhaenyra and Laena, who were technically married with husbands, as was Alicent, but the three of them were in a secret, not so secret to anyone with eyes, polyamorous relationship. It always amused all of their kids when they tried to hide it.

You turned the doorknob, fully expecting to see Rhaenyra and Laena. It was not.

Aemond.

“Fuck.” you blurted out, eyes wide. It had been the better part of a year since you had last seen him. His hair was longer now, gathered into a low bun at the nape of his neck, his cheeks a bit more gaunt. He still wore his earrings and his rings– including the one you had given him almost a decade ago.

“Shit.” he responded, seemingly caught equally off guard by seeing you again. The pupil of his non-prosthetic eye dilated until the iris was almost consumed in black, before he flexed his hand and reeled himself in.

You couldn’t help but notice he was alone– no ‘new girlfriend’ as Daeron had put it. “Aemond,” you breathed, feeling like you were outside of your own body, your head filled with fluff and static. “Merry… Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.” he responded gruffly, “Can I come in?”

“Oh– yeah, duh,” you chastised yourself, stepping aside to let him in. “Sorry.”

“Mm.” he grunted in his usual manner. That seemed to be a habit he hadn’t dropped.

You all but retreated to the kitchen, the expression on your face telling everything. Aegon, Daeron, and Helaena gathered around you.

“I didn’t invite him, I swear.” Aegon whispered.

“Well, neither did I!” Daeron professed.

“Don’t look at me, I didn’t invite him. He left me on read three weeks ago when I sent him a picture of a bug on my windowsill.” Helaena sniffed.

A new voice chimed in. “I invited him,” Alicent spoke, breaking up the little posse, “I told him to come over or he would be grounded for three months.”

All four of you stared at Alicent, deadpanned.

“Mom– he’s… almost twenty-seven. you can’t ground him,” Daeron said, confused. “And moreover, why? Wasn’t he busy?”

“Well, first off, he is my son, so I wanted to see him for Christmas. Two, I believe we have someone here who has some unresolved issues with him.” Alicent responded, staring right at you pointedly.

“... I don’t know… I… I don’t know if I can talk to him. It’s been too long… I feel like I was just getting over all of this.”

“Well, do I have any say in this?” Aemond barged into the circle, his hands in his pockets.

You suddenly felt overwhelmed, the familiar bubbling of everything being too much rising in your stomach. You were teleported back to months ago when you were barely alive, trapped in your own mind. “I… I need… I need a minute.” you muttered, your voice sounding distorted as you made your way to the bathroom, turning on the faucet. Chest heaving, you were already crying, the waterworks starting somewhere between the hallway and the sink.

“You’re always fucking crying, I can’t take it anymore.” Aemond’s voice from months and months ago echoed in your head, causing the tears to flow more. You bit against your lip, tasting blood right away as you willed yourself to stop crying.

“S-stop… stop crying,” you whispered, fingers messing up your hair as you held fistfuls of it. You couldn’t catch your composure for the life of you, sliding against the bathroom wall onto the floor.

Vision blurring, you don’t know how long you were incoherent for. When you came back to yourself, Aemond was in front of you, crouched down.

“Hey,” he murmured softly, the door closed behind him, “It’s okay.”

You swallowed, still numb as he pried your fists from your head, out of your hair, smoothing it down.

“Look at me, can you do that? Nod if you can hear me.”

You nodded slowly, the feeling coming back to your extremities in a sprightly tickling sensation. You blinked tears from your eyes, the liquid smearing your vision.

Aemond rasped a thumb over your eyes, effectively clearing the obstruction from your vision. “Just breathe,” he continued to whisper. It was ever reminiscent of when he would calm you down after a nightmare, voice low and scratchy in a way that comforted you. He was so close now, closer than he’d been in forever. He still smelled the same, the scent triggering a deep aching within your chest. A scent that took you forever to get rid of, but you never truly could. “Can… we talk?” he asked then, his voice sounding more vulnerable than ever.

It felt like whiplash, visions of your previous fights plaguing you, where he had been so closed off, so far away, so distant that you couldn’t reach him– and now, he was here. In the present, in the flesh. In front of you, opened. Not opened completely, but you could see it, like the slit of a cracked door, the light bleeding through. It was there.

“... yeah.”

“I… I’m… I’m sorry. What I did was fucked up. It was fucked up and wrong and you didn’t deserve any of it.”

“You’re right about that,” you muttered, pulling your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. “I didn’t deserve it.”

Aemond’s mouth twitched slightly before he sat down next to you, propping up his legs in a criss-cross. He opened his mouth to speak a few times, before closing it. His hands flexed and unflexed in quick succession– he was clearly thinking very carefully about his next words. “... I’ve… got issues. You know that better than anyone. I don’t know what was going through my head those months that we fought. I can hardly remember it now, it was like… I was in a fog, a haze– I was working myself half to death, I just wanted dad to notice, to fucking… appreciate me,” he put his hands on his head, “I was so… tied up in this illusion that if I made junior associate at the firm so young that he would congratulate me on my achievement and…” Aemond let out a sigh, “And… in the process… I pushed you away.”

You looked at him, feeling your gaze soften ever so slightly. You knew that his father was a sore spot for him and that trauma ran deep. “You didn’t just push me away, Aemond,” you sighed, reaching out a shaky hand to pry one of his from his face. “... if you would’ve just talked to me, I could’ve helped. You didn’t push… you… you shoved, you shoved and ran in the other direction.”

His one violet eye danced towards you. “I know. I’ve been kicking myself for it. When Aegon told me you weren’t doing well… I almost left work to see you.”

“... you did?”

“Yeah. Aegon basically told me not to– that… this was something you needed space for. Kind of like I did but… maybe in a more healthy way.”

“A text wouldn’t have hurt.”

He reached into his pocket and took out his phone– his wallpaper was still the same as it was, a picture of you, him and Vhagar very unhappy in an elf costume. He scrolled to his notes app, which was filled with messages addressed to you. “... I thought it might, after what Aegon had said. I was… ashamed of how I acted, how I handled the whole thing– how I left you alone without a word. He told me how you looked… dead. I didn’t want to make it worse.”

Your eyes scanned the messages, picking out some words. The main ones that caught your gaze were ‘sorry’, ‘love’, ‘regret’. A huge breath left your lungs, feeling as if everything had been knocked out of you at once. You felt like you were being whipped back and forth in the wind, trying to grab onto anything. If you both weren’t so stubborn and just messaged one another– well, no. You did message him, one time. “I thought you blocked me.”

“... for five minutes, maybe.”

“God, we’re so fucking stupid, Aemond.”

“You aren’t– don’t say that. I’m literally a dumbass. All of my siblings told me so, even my own mother, and you know she never curses.”

The tiniest of smiles cracked onto your face as you jostled his shoulder. “Yeah… you are a dumbass. I am allowed to say it at least once. So, um,” you shuffled slightly, “Daeron kind of let it slip that you had a new girlfriend?”

Aemond pinched his brow. “Of course he said that. He is twenty-one years old and still doesn’t know how to use his goddamn ears. I said I was seeing a new therapist, not that I had a fucking girlfriend.”

“A therapist?”

“... things got really dark for me after I moved back into our… no, my… place. After you officially moved out. It felt lifeless, all of your things were gone, the fucking warmth sucked out of the place. It felt like it’d been sterilized of anything… good. I feel into something– I don’t know, a depression? I guess, that’s what Aegon called it. He suggested I see a therapist, citing me as ‘an emotionally stunted asshole who needs more therapy than him’.” he exaggerated the last bit with air quotes, rolling his eye.

“... he isn’t wrong. I mean, I love your family, but all of you are all kinds of fucked up. Maybe I am too, practically being a part of it.”

Aemond chuckled, giving a tight lipped smile. “We are fucked up. I realized that… I really do not give a shit what my dad thinks, because nothing will ever be good enough for him. He’s so far gone now that he probably doesn’t even know we exist. I’ve come to terms with that and honestly… it feels like a weight has been lifted.”

“I’m glad you could… work through some of that, Aemond.” you say sincerely, resting your cheek on his arm absentmindedly.

“... I want to talk about us.”

“... us. Okay.”

“I don’t expect you to want to jump right back into things. It would be unfair to think that– but… maybe we could try?”

Your chest feels a bit tight at his admission– he wanted to try. Every fiber in your being wanted to say yes and jump back into it like you’d never left. But you knew you couldn’t. There were still parts of you scarred by this whole experience, some parts that may never heal. It would take a long time and a lot of talks like this to even get some semblance of what the both of you had. “Well… before we were together, believe it or not, we were friends. Could we… try that for right now?”

His chest visibly deflated a bit, but he nodded. “Whatever you need, okay?”

–

The days following Christmas, leading up to New Year’s were… different. You and Aemond were back in contact, going out for coffee and lunch a few times.

On the day before New Year’s eve, you texted him.

Turns out, timing the movie to sync with 12 am on New Year’s day to Toby Maguire saying ‘Pizza time’ was difficult. Well, it wasn’t difficult for normal people– but you and Aemond were a bit tipsy, as Aegon had left some hard apple ciders in your fridge, to which you both indulged.

“Okay, okay,” Aemond stared at his phone, “5… 4… 2… wait, no, fuck, 3… 2… I think we fucked it up– just go, go!”

Quickly, you started the movie. “Maybe we should’ve practiced– can we start over?” you plopped on the couch, sinking into the sofa and taking a swig of the cider.

“Doesn’t work like that, sweetheart. Can’t turn back time.” he mused softly, squatting down on one of the mushroom stools. “Pretty comfy.”

“Aegon picked those out, nifty, huh?”

“Nifty.” he parroted.

The movie continued on, but as it went on, there was an unspoken tension growing. Aemond hadn’t sat on the couch, but rather, the stools that were on the other side of the room. It felt like a chasm had formed, the strain almost palpable.

You chewed on your lip anxiously, contemplating whether or not to say anything. But, you had both been trying a new technique called ‘communication’ – a pretty cool and helpful thing that Aemond’s therapist had taught him. You remember laughing when he posed it that same way– but it was extremely important. You cleared your throat. “Why are you sitting all the way over there?”

“... um. I wanted to try the mushroom seats, I guess.”

“You don’t want to sit next to me?” you countered, feeling especially brave.

“Is that… alright?”

“Um, duh. I invited you over for pizza and a movie so we could… sit together. Not for you to be half a mile away sitting on a mushroom.”

“As long as it’s alright with you.” he murmured, sitting up from the mushroom stool and making his way over to you, sliding onto the couch, still a few feet away from you.

You weren’t sure if it was the atmosphere, the pent up emotions, the small buzz of alcohol, or a destructive cocktail of all three, but you inched closer to him. Closer, closer… until your thighs were touching. You glanced up at him beneath fettered lashes. “Hi.”

“Hey.” he responded, his voice low and warm. It caused a balmy and comforting vibration to go through you, reverberating in your chest.

You became all too aware of your movements, your closeness to him, the skin of your thigh grazing against his jeans as you got as close as you could. Your lips parted slightly as he stared back down at you. “Can… we?”

“Can we, what?” he murmured, lacing his fingers through your loose hair, gently grasping it at the nape of your neck. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“... kiss. A little bit.”

“Just a little bit?”

“Mhm. A teeny bit.” you leaned up, Aemond meeting you halfway as your lips came together. The culmination of your year apart, all of the emotions, the sadness, the frustration and anger, the passion, love, tears– all of it came together at this moment as the two of you melded together perfectly, as if you’d never left. You couldn’t help but let out a sigh of contentment, followed by what could only be articulated as a moan.

It caught both of you off guard, Aemond pulling away for a moment, his lips still ghosting over yours. “Fucking hell,” he breathed against your skin, sending goosebumps tingling from your tailbone up to the nape of your neck, the hairs on your body standing on end. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you,” you responded before latching onto him once more. It started off loving and slow, your lips moving against one another like two old lovers dancing together– then it began to heat up, your mouth parting to accommodate his tongue, gnashing against yours as their dance turned up a notch. Your hands roamed his body, everything you committed to memory for so many years still in its same spot. It felt good, it felt like home. “Please, Aemond– I… I need you. It’s been so long… too long…”

“Too long since I’ve had you, had this,” his hand reached down, cupping your mound still hidden beneath your panties. Somehow, you foresaw this moment before it happened and thankfully wore a light dress. “Let me in, love.”

You parted your legs, feeling the ever familiar crook of his fingers slide down the front of your panties, testing the waters. The pad of his thumb and middle finger locked on instantly to your clit, swirling the sensitive bud, sending electric shocks through your extremities. You bit your lip to stifle a moan, pressing your forehead against his. “Need you inside, now.” you all but growled as you peppered little kisses along the soft flesh of his neck.

He wouldn’t keep you waiting long, as it seemed he needed this as much as you did. He parted your panties to the side, propping you on top of him and sliding you down his length, earning a hissed gasp from both of you. It took all of his strength not to burst in you right then, as you enveloped him in your tight, wet heat. “You were made for me,” he breathed, biting down on your shoulder, leaving red marks. One of his favorite things to do was to mark you, leaving hickies in his wake as he worshiped every inch of exposed skin he could reach. “Melded so perfectly, just for me.” he grabbed the flesh of your bottom, squeezing gently at first, then landing a smack on it as he began to thrust up into you.

You nodded fervently, hiccuping little moans as you dug your face into his shoulder, biting him in turn. Your nails sunk into his skin, indenting against his spine as they always had, as they always were meant to. It felt much like a pianist resting their fingers on the ivories after a long break, the pads of your fingers sinking into the ridges of his very being. You were meant to be here, he was meant to be here. You could feel your end coming on all too soon, his cock filling every nook and cranny of you, bullying that spongy, delicate sweet spot just right. You began to clench, your tell-tale sign to him that you were close.

“I love you,” he whispered, panting slightly, using one hand to push your face back so you could meet his gaze. His wild, pupil-blown out gaze, cheeks reddened, mouth parted, brow furrowed. “I love you, I fucking love you. I missed you– fuck.”

“I l-love you,” you responded before he parted your lips with his thumb, “Love you so much– p-please, s’close.” you whined into his mouth.

“Let go, sweetheart, c’mon,” he grinned against your lips, nipping and biting at them. “Come for me.”

That was all you needed, the twine of your climax coming undone right in your core, snapping like a taut thread. Your usual habit was to hide your face in his shoulder when you came, whimpering and panting– but he didn’t let you this time. He held your face, staring at you intently as if you were a piece of fine art on display, and he was a connoisseur.

You clenched around him tightly, spurring him to his own end. His hard wrought fingers gripped your ass like it was a lifeline, grunting as he found his release deep within you, where it was always meant to be.

Coming down from your high, you slumped against his chest, mouth parted. Embarrassingly enough, a little drool wetted your lips. You were fully and thoroughly fucked out, not even registering that Tobey Maguire said “Pizza time!”

“Happy New Year, love,” Aemond murmured against your hair, nestling you tightly against him. He didn’t pull out– he preferred it this way, having you warm him through until you both fell asleep.

“... Happy New Year,” you whispered back.

–

Two and a half months later, it was Valentine's day. You and Aemond were officially dating again as of January 2nd, much to the surprise of no one.

You both took things as slow as you could, keeping separate apartments for the time being– but you’d given him a key to your place about two weeks in, and he was there all the time, taking much needed leave from work.

Unlocking the door to your apartment, you walked in, seeing Aemond lounging on the couch with a scruffy brown furball on him.

“Oh, Vhagar! You brought my baby,” you mused, dropping your items (with some grace, so as not to scare the geriatric cat), walking over, “Oh, I hope she remembers me.” you frowned, kneeling down and offering your hand to her.

“Of course she’ll remember, she yelled at me for a good three months at Aegon’s when we were without you.”

Vhagar sniffed your hand for a good minute before blinking her sleepy, lazy eyes at you, then promptly rubbing her scraggly cheek fur on your hand. You were elated, scratching her cheeks, hearing the tinkling of a little bell.

“A new collar?”

“Mhm, take a look.”

You swirled the collar around, looking for the name tag– only to find… a ring. An opal and moonstone ring. Your heart stopped in your chest as you stared at Aemond.

“I would get down on one knee– I was intending on you coming home and Vhagar running to you and then you finding it… but she’s on me, and I can’t get up. Cat rules,” he mused, unclipping the collar from her neck and slipping the ring onto your finger. “I know we’ve only been dating for… a month and a half, so stop me if it’s too soon.” he grinned, his toothy smile.

Vhagar gave a croaking meow, promptly jumping off of Aemond’s lap. As soon as the old cat was off, you threw yourself at Aemond, blubbering. “This… this…” you sniffed, unable to form words.

“Just so there isn’t any confusion… will you marry me?” he asked, wiping your tears away with his thumb.

“Yes, yes– I will,” you sniffle, burying your face in his chest and sobbing.

He let you sob on him, getting his shirt all snotty and wet, all while smiling.

After crying for at least ten minutes, you manage to take a picture, sending it to the group chat, with the caption: “I think we should add him to the chat now, guys.”

Ding.

“Is this group chat named ‘Aemond sucks’?”

#aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x fem!reader #aemond #aemond one eye #hotd fic #aemond fanfic #aemond fluff #aemond smut #modern aemond smut #modern aemond #aemond targaryen smut #hotd smut #aemond angst #my writing

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sebscore · 1 year

Text

TWITCH WAR

pairing: lando norris x driver!reader (brief cameos of charles and russell george)

warnings: swearing. rumplestiltskin. mention of george being a war criminal. wetting pants.

author’s note: not my best work, but this has been sitting in my drafts for too long. anyway, enjoy 💖

• • • • • • •

''Do I play with Y/N?'' Lando read the question out loud, seeing it in his comment section. ''Well, she always told me she was very good at like any kind of game and that she would kick my ass, but then I played with her and… let's say she's definitely not as good as me.'' The Brit bragged about his own skills, a smirk forming on his face.

He glanced at the incoming replies from the fans, enjoying their reactions. ''She asked to play together a few weeks ago and we did, but ever since then I haven't dared to play with her again,'' he grinned, ''whenever she asks me now, I just go offline.''

''Oh, she's gonna kill me when she sees this.'' He giggled like a schoolgirl.

She did in fact kill him when the clip of him talking shit was sent to her by fans and even other drivers. Not literally, that wouldn't be a good career move, but she took to Twitter to indirectly respond to Lando's ''claims''.

YourUsername: people, don't take the words of twinks seriously 😫

Y/N's clapbacks didn't stop there as she went live on Instagram not too long after Lando's Twitch stream. Fans obviously couldn't help but ask about the British driver.

''Do I still want to play with Lando? Nooo~ I don't want to stream with him anymore, I really don't.'' The grin on her face was a dead giveaway she was only teasing him. ''He's super bad, that Rumplestiltskin.''

''She called me Rumplestiltskin?'' Lando read the comment out loud, his eyebrows furrowed. ''What does that even mean?'' He couldn't really remember where the name came from, so he decided to look it up and was met with the character from Shrek.

He gave the camera an unimpressed look before moving on. ''You guys want to know a fun story about Y/N from our karting days?'' A smirk already appeared on his face.

''She was pushed off track by someone and she pissed her pants because of it.''

''It was water! I didn't wet my pants, oh my god!'' The driver exclaimed on stream, not believing that Lando actually told that story. ''We were like 9 years-old.''

''You know, Y/N, I think I also remember that.'' George chimed in, he had been amused by their little Twitch war ever since they started it.

She rolled her eyes upon George's words. ''Hey! It was probably you who pushed me off the track in the first place, you war criminal!'' Y/N clapped back at him.

''Anyway, Lando shouldn't be speaking at all when he still looks and talks like a 9 year-old.''

''Lando, should we invite Y/N to play with us?'' Charles asked the McLaren driver after seeing countless comments in his chat asking about the female driver.

The Brit loudly sighed, causing the Monégasque to burst out laughing. ''What's wrong, Lando?''

''Because of her, people keep asking me if I've hit puberty yet.'' He said, frustration audible in his voice, much to the entertainment of Charles and everyone else watching him.

Their ''beef'' came to an end when the media had started to pick up on their back-and-forths and tried to make it seem like the two close friends hated each other and that they would become a danger to each other on track.

''Are you worried that the words you and Y/N have exchanged over social media will have an effect on how the two of you perform on track?'' One reporter asked Lando in a press conference.

He shook his head. ''We're just joking around, honestly. We've been friends for a long time and we've always joked around with each other like this, so, no, it won't have an effect on track.'' He politely answered, slightly ticked off by the seriousness of it all.

Y/N had been placed into a different group for the press conference, where she was asked about their ''war''. ''There have been some harsh word exchanges between yourself and Lando Norris, are you two on good terms or is there some sort of bad blood?''

''Yeah, we hate each other,'' her sarcastic tone sticking out, ''that's why we voluntarily spent all that time together when we're not racing.'' Her answer gathered laughs from her fellow drivers and even some reporters.

''Also, when we're on the topic,'' she stated, ''just because Lando hasn't hit puberty, doesn't mean that I haven't.''

#f1 fic #f1 fics #f1 x reader #formula 1 fic #f1 x oc #lando norris x oc #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #formula 1 oc #formula one fics

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steppedladder · 6 months

Text

The fate of A Modest Renaissance

My latest art post was hinting at it but by this point I should just say it outright: A Modest Renaissance will no longer be an MCYT AU. More info under the cut.

Wait, it's ending?

No. If I stopped making content for AMR I think my brain would boil over.

What does this mean?

Characters and the story have changed. Some, like the one I posted today, underwent minor design changes. Other unposted characters got a major rehaul, and with them storyline alterations. In short, this story will now be populated by original characters.

Why?

I talked a little about it before on my twitter, but I got burnt out on MCYT content. I love the community and the people I've met in the fandom but I'd lost interest in most of the CCs and their stories by Doomsday, and by then had only been watching Techno's streams anyway. He was the reason I got back into MCYT with his Skywars videos. When he left, it made sense that I would too.

But I had a whole story plotted out for this blog. Since I hadn't been watching other CCs/drawing heavily on their plots in the first place, as I continued to work on AMR the characters started to resemble their origins less and less. So eventually I was faced with the choice to:

keep AMR a MCYT AU and rarely post art, squirreling away the "real" AMR in drafts, or

convert all of AMR into original content and (psychologically) give myself total creative freedom, but risk losing my audience.

The choice was clear, so I decided I should do what I want.

What about content already posted on this blog? Is it still canon?

A lot of characterization and plot stayed the same through the transition, especially regarding posted content. Think of it like a beta version of the story.

Now what?

I guess introductions are in order for my new(ish) characters. You've already seen Loume by this point, but I'll post new characters as I finish up their designs.

Whether you choose to stick around is up to you. Thank you for everything, and I hope you enjoy the story.

#spem et alium #a modest renaissance #sanya #(formerly technoblade)#i hope you all have enjoyed the story so far as much as i have making it.

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pers1st · 2 months

Text

consequences

pairing: lucy bronze x reader

notes: very angsty, also it's been a while since i've written this so pls don't mind this too much, just clearing my drafts

dirty tissues, trust issues - glasses on the sink, they didn't fix you

You felt Lucy slipping away from you with every day that passed. There was nothing soft, nothing loving about your interactions anymore. The two of you were barely able to converse during training sessions, your passes off and drink breaks spent as far away from each other as possible.

Going home together was even worse. The nights you'd spent at Keira's house because being with your girlfriend was simply unbearable were endless, and even now as you walked out of the shower after your evening run, wet hair on your neck and skin tainted with lavender, you considered taking a run for it as you found her on the couch, a bottle of wine on the coffee table.

You huffed, not finding the energy to start yet another fight, as you sat down in your living room's armchair, far away from Lucy. She was watching football, and as you drew your knees towards your chest, you felt her gaze on you.

"You want a glass of wine?", she asked, and you weren't exactly sure whether these were the first words she'd said to you today or not. You remembered the times you would talk for hours in bed, never hearing enough of her voice.

"No."

Your voice was sharper than you had intended for it to be, quite honestly, but you didn't have it in yourself to care, as Lucy didn't either, sipping away at her wine without another question.

The silence was unbearable all of a sudden.

"Why are you drinking again, anyways?"

Lucy huffed.

"Makes this a little less awkward, don't you think?"

And with that, you rose from your seat, the frustration making you restless.

"If you can't stand being around me sober, why don't you just leave?", you exclaimed, crossing your arms in front of your chest as you paced through the room, desperate for something to do, to focus on, before you blew up at her anymore.

"That's what I'm trying to do, don't you remember? Last I remembered, you didn't want me to go to Lyon!"

"Lucy, that's not what I said! I don't get why you're just throwing our relationship away without a second thought", you yelled through the room that had once been filled with your laughter.

You couldn't stand being here anymore, and instead walked towards the open kitchen, busying yourself with the dirty dishes in the sink from the dinner she'd eaten without you.

"I've told you before, that's not what I'm doing! I don't get why you won't let me have this! Lyon is like, the best club there is, and you're holding me back here because you're too scared I'll leave you?"

You scrubbed at the plate in your hands aggressively, the hot water burning at your skin, as you felt deja-vu overcome you. This conversation had played out between the two of you endless times, and you didn't know how much longer you could take it.

"That's not what this is about Lucy, and you know it!"

lonely pillows in a stranger's bed, little voices in my head

The conversation played over and over again in your mind as you found yourself in Keira's guest room yet another time. You had told Lucy, multiple times, that you understood why she wanted to move to Lyon. You weren't holding her back, were you? You wanted her to succeed, to go to the best clubs in the world, you wanted her to do everything she dreamed of, you simply didn't understand how she hadn't even taken a second to think about what this meant for your relationship.

Keira's pillow felt warm against your scalp and at once, you sat up against your bed frame, looking at the time on your phone exhaustedly. It was well past midnight, and you had a match tomorrow that you needed to be in form for.

Sleep didn't come to you easily though, not when you were left wondering what your girlfriend was doing now - whether she was laying awake just as you were, thinking and thinking about the arguments between the two of you, or whether she was snoring softly the way she always told you she didn't, her dreams filled with her in a Lyon kit, thousands of kilometers away from you.

Was it really that easy for her? To just up an leave you behind, without a second thought?

When she'd first told you about wanting to go away from Manchester, there had still been hesitation in her voice. By the time Lyon made an offer half a year before her contract ran out, she had jumped in excitement, telling you all about how she would go and win the Champions League and what a great opportunity this was for her. You didn't quite disagree with her, but you were left wondering where exactly, in her future plans, you were displayed.

When you'd asked her this, she hadn't had a clue. That's how this mess had even unfolded in the first place.

secret keeping, stop the bleeding - lost a little weight because i wasn't eating

Keeping the break up from the public proved to be one of the most difficult things you'd ever done. Although your relationship had never exactly been confirmed, it hadn't taken much for the fans to notice the way you had been attached at the hip for years, and when Lucy had interrupted your post match interview once, simply to stare at you lovingly in a playful way to stop you from concentrating on the questions asked - and when she had succeeded in it, there was no room for questions anymore.

Your feed was still scattered with pictures of the two of you. You could barely look at them as you scrolled your profile, finding pictures of your vacation together, pictures of you in Manchester together, pictures of you during the England camps and tournaments. Deleting them wasn't an option - Lucy and you had decided to stay friends after this break up, and although it was proving to be quite easy to remain friendly now that she was in Lyon and you hadn't had a single conversation with her since the night she'd left, you knew that deleting the pictures would

A) send the fans into a spiral down every one of your interactions

B) stir the rumors already spread all over the internet

C) make people think you hated each other.

None of those options were ideal, and the latest most definitely wasn't true. Your heart was still so full of love for Lucy that you often found yourself crying at the memories with her, crying at the fact that she'd left you, crying at the fact that you'd let her go.

She'd promised you that things would be okay, at the airport, with her life packed in bags and you left behind. She'd promised it would be okay. Now though, it didn't seem okay to you. The lack of a goodbye post was a starter - many of your teammates had shared past moments with Lucy, candid pictures or heartfelt messages, wishing her all the best in the world. And although it wasn't unusual for you to be inactive on the social media, it certainly raised questions among the fans. Your girlfriend was moving to another country. You seemingly didn't say goodbye.

However, some people had spotted you at the airport together, stating that you were definitely still dating and that you would manage the distance okay. Lucy's contract was only a year. She might just explore her options and come back to you. You might leave after another year in Manchester, and follow her to Lyon.

You wouldn't, but they didn't know that.

You decided, then and there, laying in your bed once more, crying over your girlfriend once more, that you had to delete TikTok.

The breakup was more than obvious to everyone who knew you personally, though. You were barely speaking at any social event, never staying long after training, preferring to be in your own home and rot away. Georgia and Keira tried their best to drag you outside, make you live a little, as they called it, but you barely let them. You had lost weight too, as the team doctor had pointed out, although you didn't believe him. Your heart felt too heavy, weighing your body down with every thought, every feeling of Lucy. She wasn't here though, you realized as you glanced at the empty side of your bed, another tear escaping your eye.

every siren that I was ignoring, I'm paying for it

The signs had been there early on. She'd promised things would be okay, and you had half-heartedly believed her. Now though, you realized you shouldn't have. The constant tone of your phone was grounding you slightly as you sat in your armchair, waiting for Lucy to pick up. You checked the time in an anxious matter, wondering whether or not you had maybe mixed something up. But no, you hadn't. You'd agreed to FaceTime on Monday, at eight. However, your face was the only one visible on your screen.

Had she forgotten? Should you dial another time? Was she ignoring you?

Just as your finger hovered over the red button, her face came into view, and you didn't recognize her surroundings. You had facetimed many times by now, and you knew what her apartment in Lyon looked like. The slightly slurred words made it ever so clear to you.

"Hey baby", she huffed, holding her phone close to her face as she got up from a sofa that wasn't hers, strolling into a hallway that wasn't hers, pulling a door closed behind her that wasn't hers.

"Can I call you back later?", she asked, her tone slightly whiny. "Now is not a good time."

You didn't tell her that now was the time the two of you had agreed on three days ago, when you had begged her to answer the unscheduled calls, wanting nothing more than to hear her voice. You should've known - when the promised call later didn't come, that there was nothing left for you to pick up. Your relationship was shattered, a part of you realized then, but there was another part that held onto the pieces of glass tightly, so tightly that it drew blood. Her call only came a week later, and by then, all she had to say was how amazing Lyon was. She didn't once mention how you would like it there.

loving you was young, and wild, and free

You remembered the day you fell in love with Lucy like it was yesterday, the memories having permanently altered the chemistry of your brain to the point where you could never forget anymore. It had been the first day you'd met her - when Lucy, of all people, had been selected to show you around the Manchester training centre. She hadn't done a particularly well job, as the staff had assessed later, because she had shown you all her favorite nooks and crannies of the building, showing you where best to hide when you were supposed to be in the gym, where best to get food, the cheapest vending machines and the best coffee stations.

She had smiled at you shyly, and you had reciprocated. From that day on, the two of you had shared soft touches everywhere, a hand in the small of your back here, a tug on your shirt during a particularly competitive warm up game there, the intertwined hands as you finally showed her your furnished apartment, which you would later dismiss to move into hers. Your cheeks had blushed whenever the older defender found you among the crowd of teammates, whenever she had told you to turn your head off before a match, whenever she had celebrated your goals by letting you jump into her arms, burying her face in your stomach. The first time you kissed had been a mess of chuckles, teeth clashing in smiles and stolen touches of your hands here and there. Falling in love with Lucy had made your heart beat out of your chest, it had made your stomach warm and fuzzy, it had drawn a smile upon your face that was hard to get rid of, even though Keira and Georgia liked to tease you about it at every opportunity. The first time you and Lucy had shown up at practice together, you hadn't heard the end of it, but no matter how awful the teasing got, it had been worth it a hundred times. If not a million.

You remembered the time you'd sat on Keira's sofa, drinking wine shyly and telling your best friends all about the first official date between the two of you and how everything had just fallen into place afterwards. Despite the fact that they called the two of you annoying at every chance they got, arguing that you were disgustingly smitten, you knew in the back of your head that they were supportive of your relationship. They told you once, as you once more chugged wine on Keira's sofa, that they dreamt of a relationship like yours.

loving you was sunshine, safe and sound, a steady place to let down my defenses

"It's okay, honey", Lucy ran her hand through your hair as you sobbed into her chest. She had been a mess of her own after England's departure in the quarter final of the 2019 World Cup, but she knew that she would later pick up the broken pieces that were left of you. You'd caused a penalty in the first minutes of the match, setting England up for failure (at least, that was what you believed), and after the red card you were given in the eightieth minute, the floodgates had crashed down completely.

Your body wrecked in her arms, in the dimly lit hotel room, mere hours before the team would return back to England. Had Lucy not been around - God knew what would've happened. The both of you had stayed up throughout the night, because even though you had held the tears in on your way back from the stadium, and during the most silent team dinner you had yet to sit through, there was nothing holding back the tears once you had sat down on Lucy's bed. Neither one of you had slept yet, and while Lucy had hoped you would simply pass out from exhaustion, there was no end to your tears. She didn't once complain though, holding you all throughout the night, cooing soothing words at your shaking body, despite the fact that she knew you wouldn't hear any of them. It hurt her - to see the absolute mess that you were, especially because of how good of a player you knew she was, and how she knew that you had been one of the key players in England's tournament so far, especially given the fact that you were still young, compared to her.

She held your hand all throughout breakfast, when you had finally calmed down enough to walk, and when she sat with you on the plane home, but the worst part was yet to come.

Realistically, there was no stopping you from reading through the comments under your recent Instagram post, despite the fact that she had thought about snatching your phone in the few hours of sleep you got and simply turning them off.

"They're all saying it's my fault, Luce", you whined, teary-eyed, as you sat in your armchair, a blanket wrapped around your body, your phone shaking in your grip.

"Y/N, we've talked about this, it's not your fault", she cooed, frustrated with the fact that you still didn't believe her. This conversation had played out endless times in the past two weeks, and despite the fact that the season at Manchester City was about to start, you were still stuck on the events in Canada.

"But- if I had-"

"No", Lucy interrupted you harshly. "Y/N, you've had a great tournament. If it wasn't for your goals, we would've been out a round or two earlier. You did everything you could for your country-"

This time, it was you who interrupted her.

"I don't know if I can do this again", you started sobbing now. Lucy was up from the couch within seconds, her plate of dinner long forgotten as she crouched down in front of you, taking your phone out of your hands.

"Can do what, baby?"

"I don't know if I can play for England anymore- nobody wants me there- I can't-"

Your words came to a stop as Lucy wrapped her arms around you, your chin immediately tucked into her neck, sobbing softly.

"Don't let them get to you, Y/N. You are a brilliant player, and you're not gonna finish your career over some trolls on the internet", she ordered, and in the end, she had been right. Although, if it hadn't been for her, being with you every step of the way, holding you as you cried, being your biggest supporter on and off the field, you might've never returned in an England shirt.

loving you was sunshine,

but then it poured, and i lost so much more than my senses

but loving you had consequences

The second you had left the pitch after the Champions League match against Lyon, you should've expected the social media war that would come crumbling down on you mere hours later. Fans had found your lack of interaction after the match and the way you had shoved Lucy once and hadn't returned to help her back to her feet to be the proof to the rumored breakup. They had been suspecting it for a while, with rumors sparking up between Lucy and one of her teammates at Lyon, and the lack of your interactions online. It hadn't bothered you so far, the endless comments asking about what was going on, the tweets that people thought were funny. Now, however, it was an entirely different feeling. The shove of yours against Lucy was everywhere - on your Instagram feed, your Twitter feed, you couldn't escape it. In hindsight, it looked far more aggressive than it had been. Lucy and your speed had left your legs tangled and had sent her flying to the ground, and as you were too fast to stop so abruptly, you hadn't managed to get back to her before Ada had pulled her up already. It did look as though you had simply left her on the grass, although the both of you knew that the foul hadn't been intentional. You had only huffed angrily at the ref's decision, not at Lucy's presence.

You didn't know whether it was a good or a bad thing that people had missed your short conversation in the hallway of the Etihad. She had caught you there - after having conversed with Keira and Georgia, she had sent her hand out behind her and grabbed a hold of your shirt before you had even seen her, with your head still lingering on the goal you'd scored.

"Hey, you", she smiled, and Keira and Georgia had vanished at the very second that Lucy let them go, smiling at you softly.

Your conversation had been that as well - soft. Lucy had asked how you were, and you had told her that things were okay again. She'd asked how things were at City, but she hadn't pushed you to talk to her, squeezing your shoulders and saying her goodbyes when she had felt the tiniest ounce of discomfort in your shift.

All of that was shielded from the public though, and people quickly made you out to be the villain after your "foul". Some jumped to your defense, claiming Lucy must've really hurt you, for you to tackle her the way you apparently had. Others were sure that you were jealous of Lucy's career, and taking your frustration out on the defender.

They couldn't have been further from the truth. You had been hurt at first - about the fact that Lucy had dropped you like a hot potato at the thought of moving to a better club, but you realized now that her motive hadn't been to discard you, it was simply how her brain worked sometimes. Lucy was a big kid, she didn't think things through before becoming excited at them. You had never been jealous of her career, and you didn't think you ever could. You wanted her to do all the great things she dreamed of, you wanted to win the Olympics and the Euros and the next World Cup alongside her, you wanted her to win the Champions League, the French league, the cup, anything.

You sniffed slightly as you realized just how bad of a person people made you out to be. Suddenly, you were reminded of the World Cup again, seeing the clear visual of the night you'd spent in Lucy's arms, reading every hateful message, every comment, every post about your failure and how you were a disgrace for your country. She'd been there for you through it all. Now, however, you were sitting alone in your flat, the flat that Lucy had once lived in, and you knew that it was the smartest thing to call Keira, or Georgia, or Alex, but you also knew that Lucy was close - closer than she had been to you in months, and so you couldn't exactly stop yourself from dialing her number. She'd texted you before she'd changed it. You had it memorized, just in case you ever needed her. She'd promised you to be there for you despite it all, and although you had sworn to yourself to never ever take her up on the offer, you knew that Lucy was the only person who could pull you out of this.

"Hello?", her voice came from the other side, quickly, sleepily. "Y/N?"

"I'm sorry", you sobbed, suppressing your tears as well as you could. It wasn't easy. Your Instagram comments were still open on your iPad, laying on your knees.

"Don't be, Y/N. Is it the comments?", she asked, and you allowed yourself to smile at the fact that she knew you so well, that she had noticed what was going on without you having to tell her.

"Yeah", you hiccuped, wiping your tears away with your sleeves, sniffling quietly.

"I'm sorry, they shouldn't comment these kinds of things", Lucy said, and you felt your heart swell at the emotion in her voice.

"Yeah", you replied again, suddenly not knowing what to say.

"Hey, how about we swap shirts at the next match? Let people know that they're spinning stories", she suggested, and you nodded quickly, although she couldn't see you.

"Sure, that sounds good", you smiled slightly at the thought, at how determined Lucy seemed to fix this issue.

You spoke for longer on the phone than you expected, with Lucy staying silent shortly to find a less occupied spot in the hotel, away from her roommate, and catching up over what happened over the last few months. She offered to post a story of the shove alongside a joke of sorts if you needed relief immediately, but you declined, knowing that even just the conversation with her had calmed you enough to not look at the comments anymore. Lucy told you to switch them off as well, but you didn't- knowing that she didn't hate you was enough.

It felt like the closure the both of you needed - and when you finally came to Lyon to verse her again, the two of you had switched shirts after the match and you had finally gotten to see her family again, showing Lucy's nephew around the pitch shortly. There were people out there still hopeful that the two of you were together, but most people accepted the breakup then and there, and were relieved to see the two of you still friendly with each other. You had spent years together, after all, but you were the most relieved. Knowing that you still had Lucy on your side if you desperately needed her, if everything fell down on top of you - knowing that Lucy was going to be on your side forever, it was possibly the best consequence that could've come out of your relationship.

#woso community #woso imagine #woso #woso one shot #woso fanfics #barca femeni #lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader #barca femeni x reader #barca x reader #olympique lyonnais #lionesses #Spotify

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saleeba · 1 month

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the baby-making manual ; william saliba

summary ♡ baby fever hits the salibas full force.

pairing ♡ william saliba x fem!reader

content ♡ 18+, smut, husband!william, kissing, p in v sex, cunnilingus, reader & wilo are so broody & so in love with each other, missionary, doggystyle, riding, lotus position (yes i’m fucking depraved don’t look at me like that 🤕), soft romantic vibes, breeding kink, praise, body worship, size kink ofccc, clitoral stimulation, titplay, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it unless ur name is y/n and ur starring in this fic 🥸), creampie(s), a smidgen of cockwarming, blink and u miss the one french word in here, talks about having kids, aftercare included !!

a/n ♡ the title is so goofy & nobody asked for this but the concept has been eating at my mind since the end of summer + i've had this in the drafts since oct so i gotta put me first lucius 😫😩😫😩😫 anyway this is day one of converting you all into wilo girlies hehe WAKE UP WORLD‼️ pls lmk how u all find this fic btw!! ik it won’t get as much attention as my jude ones bc there prob aren’t as many fans but i rlly would appreciate anything u have to say about it !!! 🫶🏽🥰 enjoyyyy mes chéris!! 😌❤️

an unexpectedly warm spring’s saturday had given cause to an impromptu barbecue held by your parents, and you and william had found yourselves in the company of most of your relatives for the day. how your mother had convinced half the family tree to be present on such short notice you will never know but you were grateful nonetheless, extremely happy to especially see the loved ones you haven’t seen since getting married to your now-husband a couple of years ago.

it’s close to eleven in the night now, your arrival at home being so belated due to the clash between your insistence that you and william had to go home as he had training the next morning and your father’s greater insistence that the two of you stay a little longer for another cup of tea, another plate of food, even the whole night if you wanted to. in the end, you had to put a politely firm foot down, more for william’s sake who can’t say no to your parents for the life of him, and who was on his way to accepting your dad’s invitation to stay the night before you spoke up. you knew the events of last night would repeat for the morning, your parents in a tug-of-war with you to make you guys stay for breakfast but you supported your case with the argument of the long drive home and the fact that mikel wouldn’t appreciate william’s tardiness the next day, especially at such a significant time in the season.

you’re sitting in bed by yourself right now with a novel in hand – william having gone to take a much-needed relaxing shower – inwardly laughing to yourself over your husband’s people-pleasing antics and your mind meanders to the scenes of this afternoon, the sounds of children’s laughter and adults’ gossip in the air accompanied with the smokey scent of grilled food taking over your senses. you reencounter images of william chasing your little cousins, nieces and nephews around the garden — small, sweet giggles mixed with william’s deeper chuckles as they’re all engaged in an exhilarating game of tag, little feet and large padding around the property.

your thoughts are pulled back into reality when the ensuite door clicks open, a cloud of steam puffing into the bedroom before it reveals your husband clad in nothing but a white towel around his waist, droplets of water dotted on his toned chest and abdomen. it’s a sheer sight for sore eyes and one that you will never tire of so you shamelessly watch as he smiles at you before gliding across the room, moving to his vanity to apply generous amounts of body lotion to bring back moisture to his skin, the action making his skin glow so prettily under the warm lighting of the bedroom.

it’s these moments of silent appreciation that have you feeling like the luckiest girl in the universe; an adonis of a lover in your bedroom, one that would move heaven and earth at your beck and call, and there’s denying that you would do the same for him.

in all your daydreaming, william’s moved on to pulling his pajamas on for bedtime, a pair of dark grey boxer shorts acting as said pajamas as he opts to go shirtless in fear of overheating on such a toasty night. you place your novel down, the previously read page distinguished with a bookmark, as william places a soft kiss on your forehead before tucking you both in under the thin sheets.

“mum was really bad with the baby talk this time, wasn’t she?” you turn your body on its spot, head propped up by a bend of your arm as you face william who lifts his head at your rhetoric question. “i mean, you did look so fucking adorable with the kids today so i don’t know if i should say sorry on her behalf.”

“not at all,” he only lets out a breathy laugh, now mirroring you in the shift of his own body. “i’ve had most people asking me about it now.”

“really?”

you’re quite shocked to learn that there are indeed a lot of people who are eager to see william and yourself have a family of your own and that it’s not just pestering from your mother in particular, who has asked about when she will be seeing grandchildren from her daughter and “favourite son-in-law” from the moment the two of you had just about exchanged rings. you’ve grown accustomed to answering with the same old ‘we want to focus on us/our careers/our freedom’ response but there’s a little curious something that’s pulling the two of you to consider everyone’s requests.

“mmhm, i think i could count the number of people at the club that have asked me about it using my hands and my feet,” the pair of you laugh at this, a shake of your head over how believable that comment is despite it sounding so silly since the environment of your husband’s workplace is so close-knit and everyone is comfortable with each other. “it’s not just that, though, is it?”

“no?” you question his tone turned serious now.

“when i see the guys and their kids, i can’t help wondering what i might be like in those sorts of situations, y’know?” you sit up at his words, heart racing a little faster with the way he looks at you; looks into you as he again copies your movements, taking your hands in his after leaning his shoulder against the headboard. “can’t help wondering what it would be like seeing you and a mini version of us in the stands during a match… wanna see our baby matching shirts with their papa, wanna hear their tiny voice cheer my name…”

you swear you feel your heart stop as soon as his lips form the words ‘our baby’.

“oh, william,” you sigh over his thoughts spoken aloud, a slight pang of guilt hitting at your heartstrings and causing your eyes to tear up just a little. “why didn’t you tell me about all this, hm?”

you had no idea of his desire to have children, always assuming his response to everyone’s questions to be the same as yours and believing that he wanted to prioritise football over starting a family with you for at least a couple more years.

“it’s not your fault, sweetheart, not at all.” his fingers swipe under your eyes in precaution against any spilt tears. “having a baby, hell, even wanting a baby... it’s a big deal; it’s hard to just drop it into a conversation if that makes sense.”

“of course, that makes plenty of sense,” his hands grip yours in a tight embrace, placing a kiss on the slightly trembling digits in an attempt to soothe you. “you really want to have a baby with me?”

william laughs softly at your words and the way you sit with your mouth gaping, starry-eyed with a million thoughts racing through your mind.

“no, i want to have a baby with mrs khan next door.” he deadpans, referring to your elderly neighbour, before you shove at his shoulder, a blush overcoming your cheeks as you realise how daft your question is, disbelief over how much william wants to be a dad seeping into the way you’re thinking right now. “you’re the only woman that i want as the mother of my children, y/n, the only one.”

his eyes look even more beautiful in the peek of moonlight through the curtains and you fear your heart may give out tonight, squeezing so hard in your chest with the love that you feel for your husband.

“can i kiss you, baby?” he asks so politely, thumb running over the plumpness of your bottom lip. even after so many years together, he’s always the gentleman but still, you tell him that he doesn’t need to ask anymore — you are his to have as he is yours.

his lips descend upon yours with a gentle force, hands clasping over your waist where the black silk material of your short nightdress stops him from touching the warmth of your soft skin. instead, william decides to pick you up and place you on his lap, the urge to feel your body as close to his as possible controlling his actions, your knees dropping to either side of him as your clothed chest meets his bare one.

as the kiss deepens on what seems like its own accord, you feel yourself growing wetter, thankful for your earlier decision to forgo underwear for the night as you grind down onto william’s lap, the cotton of his boxers creating delicious friction on where you need it the most.

breathless sighs turn into light moans from the two of you as william tightens his grip on your waist with the same strength your core presses down onto his hardening length before he turns you both over to have you on your back, his form hovering over yours, lips ghosting over the nook where your neck meets your shoulders, leaving an eruption of goosebumps in its trail.

in the pleasured shutting of your eyes, you can feel william’s hands pull down the loose straps of your nightdress, then a kiss on each shoulder and then the heat of his breath over your exposed breasts.

“so beautiful, darling,” he looks up to your blushing face, the compliment painting a shy smile on it before his lips wrap around your left nipple with wasting any time. a whine is pulled from your lungs over the way william suckles on the nub, a tiny tug of it between his teeth causing you to arch your chest further into his mouth. of course, he doesn’t forget to pay attention to your right boob, taking his sweet time in kissing and swirling his tongue around the stiffness of the other side. “how did i get so lucky, hmm?”

you whimper in response as he brushes his lips down your body over your nightdress; from under your breasts, over your navel and arriving at the base of your tummy, where he places the firmest kiss of them all atop of the lustrous material.

“william…”

“gonna take care of you, baby, i promise.”

his hands now come down to your thighs, where the inner parts are sticky with arousal, and he hoists the hem of your dress up past your bellybutton, the pressing together of your legs to soothe the ache of your core as a light breeze hits it inciting your husband to part them and find home in the self-made gap. his head lowers to where your pussy lays nearly leaking onto the sheets and your breaths quicken, reaching an all-time rapid high when william plants a kiss on your clit, one so soft that it would’ve been deemed innocent had it not been in the midst of an action so filthy.

in the ‘o’-shapedness of your mouth, amorous sighs escape as he starts his attack on your wetness — mouth open, tongue out, lapping at your juices as you sing his praises in the form of high-pitched moans. his tongue slips past your drenched folds to find your sopping hole, the tip of it poking past your entrance as he’s full-on eating you out now, open-mouthed moans from the simple pleasure of your pussy on his lips almost drowning out your sounds.

there’s a particularly lusty moan from you when his thumb finds your tense clit, a couple of rubs on it releasing a string of cries out of the confines of your lips as your legs tremble from their position on his shoulders. from the very beginning of your married life, william had made it his mission to become well-acquainted with you in the bedroom, and you think he’s succeeded as the way he knows which buttons to press to get you to cum at his mercy is very telling, fingers working expertly in toying with your sensitive nub as your walls clench around nothing but the conjured-up image of cumming all over his mouth and pretty face.

“william… i-” you start but are soon interrupted by the intense sucking of your already pounding clit between his moistened lips. the wail you let leave your body is almost pitiful, the feeling so fucking good but so sudden and unexpected that you fall head-first into your orgasm, crashing into it with a spasm of your thighs around william’s head, pawing at his dark hair for some inkling of relief and grounding since you truly believe you’re about to lose all sense of reality with how strong this orgasm has hit you.

william doesn’t relent despite your convulsions, placing kisses over your clenching pussy and shaky abdomen. you manage to still your involuntary motions to catch a glimpse of his face in all its glory; his lips glistening wet with your release and his eyes darker than ever, impossible to distinguish the colour of his pupils from the colour of his irises, an unfolding plan of what’s to come for you both behind his soft gaze.

“did so, so good for me, my love,” he praises, kissing you through panting breaths from the both of you. “want to feel you around me, fuck, need to feel you around me, baby.”

you go to deny him at first, nestling your hand against the bulge of his boxers but he’s quick to deny you in turn.

“no, baby, tonight’s for you, ok? just wanna take care of everything— take care of you.”

you nod in acceptance, knowing that arguing with him would be futile, a gentle flame in his eyes telling you of his determination to do nothing but be at your service until the sun comes up.

“how do you want me first, amour?”

you almost swoon at the question, unable to believe that you essentially have this man at your mercy now, getting dizzy over choosing whether you want to ride him into oblivion first or save that for later and have him take you from behind to start with. either way, you know that tonight was no night for a meagre one round.

“how about as we are right now?” you suggest, the current arrangement of you on your back and william on top proving perfectly convenient for you guys to start with your favourite position in bed.

“sounds perfect, baby,” he smiles before getting up to rid his body of those grey boxers and then almost leaning over you to pull a condom from the nightstand before he stops himself midway, the both of you realising that this is a habit that will need to be unlearnt now. a pair of giggles erupts between you and a silent agreement to forget the condom for the whole purpose of tonight is sealed with a rerouted kiss from william. he then prompts you to lift your hips so he can slot a pillow underneath them and have you as comfortable as you can get. you can’t resist biting your bottom lip at the pulsating anticipation between the two of you, the sight of his bare cock admittedly making your mouth water.

now back on the bed and parting your legs, william resituates himself in between, this time with his cock in his hand running down your increasingly dripping slit, the occasional dip past your folds making you wince in an addictive combination of overstimulation and urgency.

“shit, angel, i’m sorry,” his apology is sincere as he searches your eyes for signs of discomfort. “we don’t have to do this right now, we can take a break, do you want me to ge–”

“babe, i’m fine, okay?” you huff out a laugh, your husband’s honestly innocent face tickling your tummy and making your core ache even more. “j-just fuck me, will, please?”

his answer comes in the guise of an assured smooch against your swollen lips, taking the quiet opportunity to sink into your wetness, completely raw for the first time, with a loud deep groan that makes your stomach feel like it’s gloriously folding in on itself. you revel in finally having the naked thickness of his cock inside you, experiencing every ridge, vein and inch of smoothness directly between your gummy walls with a hushed fuck before he gets to work on setting a moderate pace — slow and savouring it seems, his way of saying that he wants this to last as long as it possibly can.

"william… so big..." no matter how many times you've been under him and how many times you say it, it will always ring true; the initial stretch and burn that his cock creates for you will always light a fire of delicious friction, tonight being a million times more special than every previous encounter put together. and no matter how many times william hears it, it will always set his mind ablaze, hips now pistoning at an unfathomable speed as he can’t hold back anymore, moaning and groaning about how good you feel uninterrupted around him, how there'll be no one else for him, how you're everything to him. it all has your pussy gushing around him to no end.

your whimpers warn him of another impending orgasm, the tightening clasp of your cunt and the way you’re clawing at the softness of his lower tummy in sheer desperation make william’s movements falter just the slightest, a whine leaving his throat as he can feel his own climax catching up to him.

“close, baby,” he warns in sentences incomplete, brain whirring on pure pleasure and nothing else but the desire to have you cumming around him. he’s afraid that he may finish a fraction too soon and leave you disappointed so his fingers find your stiffened clit again, the caressing of his thumb a little harsher this time around as part of an effort to get you both to cum at the same time.

the pleasure you’re receiving from the touch of his thumb and the stroke of his dick is almost too much, hands willing their way to pull his off of you but the speed at which your second orgasm hits you beats any other competition to the finish line, pussy barely squeezing to trigger william’s first orgasm of the night; your lover climaxes inside of you with a sound so guttural, it has him almost collapsing against your shaking form but you invite him to do so, a tender hand on the back of his head guiding him to a safe haven in the crook of your neck as the strangely comforting feeling of thick, white liquid streams down your inner thighs. heavy breaths saturate the dimly lit room as you lay with your lover for a moment, warm bodies basking in the aftermath of a shared orgasm.

after a comfortable minute or two, william speaks up, his voice dropped to an octave so deep it relights the fire in your seeping cunt before your head can even process his words.

“how does round two sound to you?” he’s asking amidst the plotting of a few kisses up your jawline.

you’re ready to jump his bones again on your own accord so when you hear the request fall from your husband’s lips, it’s an immediate “yes please” from you, not even bothered to feel shameful about the reeking desperation of your response.

a knowing chuckle and another kiss seal the deal, william pulling your now-creased nightdress over your outstretched arms, leaving you completely bare but free; accessible to his every touch. he asks you to turn around onto your hands and knees, setting the pillow down underneath your lower abdomen as a precaution.

“there we go, angel,” he places a tender kiss at the bottom of your spine, running a hand up the natural curve of your back while you anticipate his next action. “gonna make my pretty girl feel so good tonight, she deserves it all.” your thighs divide instinctively in response to his voice and the sight of his cum glistening on your skin has william choking on a moan, needing to stroke his cock on the white-stained slipperiness.

“william, don’t tease,” you beg with a shake of your ass against his crotch to get him to hurry and slip his length inside of you. “can’t wait anymore.”

your husband obliges immediately, having lubricated his dick enough with his own release off your thighs, pushing into your hole with so much more ease and a filthy squelch as the realisation that the majority of his cum from the previous round is still inside of you hits him. oh, it sends william’s entire being into a lustful frenzy.

“f-fuck, baby, listen to how well i filled you up,” he gasps out, mouth forming an ‘o’ shape as the dirtiest noises he has ever heard emits from where his cock is connected to your pussy.

you’ve done this position more times than you can count but the raw state of his dick plus the way it definitely plunges deeper from all the lubrication william has created inside you has you growing wetter beyond belief, another layer of arousal helping him reach damn near a whole new dimension of your cunt. you don’t want to lend your name to porno-fuelled incorrect biology but you swear he’s in your cervix right now, the pillow now playing its part in hoisting your bottom half up, back arching so beautifully, making it the perfect setup for william to split you in half with every thrust of his length.

between a melody of cries of his name from your worn lips and his deeper moans, you surprisingly cum without a word of warning; it’s fast and it’s hard and it’s white-hot, almost launching your body off the bed entirely. it’s not so surprising, actually, given the speed of william’s pounding inside of your creaming pussy and the resulting splat-splat-splat noise his actions make, all of it way too much, way too depraved and addicting to try and avoid.

“good fucking girl,” your husband grunts out at the sensation of yet another round of your pussy walls spasming around him, another round of hot cum spurting into your hole as he fills you up with an animalistic fuck! marking the round so differently from the last one, which was so full of love, this one in a tone that is much more lewd and untamed.

you’re still on all fours, moaning softly at the flood of cum that spills out of you from around william’s dick and onto the sheets below, cunt still clenching his shaft which doesn’t seem to get any softer despite the two of you having been at it for nearly two hours without a break. your husband, sheathed still in your core, runs a series of kisses up your back, reaching the back of your ear to leave praises of how good you were for him just then and how pretty you look while he’s balls deep inside of you. eventually, he pulls out with a throaty moan, leaving you panting as you fall onto your back to look up at his fucked out expression.

william’s standing there with his hands on his hips, chest heaving, face all smiley and flushed, an image not too dissimilar to one where he’s fresh off a victory on the pitch. you wish you could take a picture of the scenery in front of you but you trust your memory to sear it into place for you instead.

“fucking hell, if i’m not pregnant by now then i don’t even know what to say!” you laugh out at the mess you’ve both made of the sheets and yourselves, and william joins in before quipping in with a “hmm, we should make sure, just in case, of course.” a cheeky tone in his voice as he snuggles his mouth against your neck, the hair on his chin tickling your skin as you squirm on the bed out of ecstatic amusement.

“okay, okay, but first we have to take a break, babe!” you manage to squeal out before william ceases his tickle attack on you, letting you go to the bathroom while he fetches a glass of water from the kitchen.

by the time you’re finished and clean, william has the bed remade and the glass of water held out by the hand upon your return to the bedroom. you shake your head at him, bemused at this butler act he’s now performing.

“your refreshment, mrs. saliba,” he mocks what you assume to be a posh british accent, his own french one adding so much charm to it.

“i thank you, mr. y/l/n,” you smirk back and take a sip, careful not to choke as william pushes your shoulder in jest with an oi before sitting down on the edge of the bed and watching you set the empty glass down on the nightstand.

“so, about that making sure thing,” you pounce on his lap within a split second, settling your hands on the warmed skin of his shoulders.

william throws his head back in a hearty chuckle. “fucking hell, what was in that water?!”

“shut up and kiss me, saliba.” you command and he doesn’t dare to do anything but oblige, lips catching yours in a heated kiss that reinstalls all elements of hunger and lust inside of the pair of you. running your hands down and over the expanse of his chest has william parting his lips in a low groan, you taking the opportunity to slip your tongue inside his mouth and swallow all of his sugary sweet sounds, not wanting any ears other than your own to hear them. the resumed grinding of your naked crotch on william’s has him hardening quickly, another order from you to go lay himself down on the pillows moving scenes on as rapidly as you like.

“good boy,” you admire the way he’s displayed himself for you, long athletic body sprawled out in all its glory, the moonlight a little brighter now that the night has really settled in. “you look so good like this, william, fuck, need to have you inside me now, baby.” a couple of tugs on his stiff cock and you’re sliding down onto it, william’s hands – slightly sweaty from excitement – holding you in place as you begin to rock and raise your body.

there’s a harmonised whine from the two of you as you’re filled with his thickness once again, william encased in your snug, plush walls, and the swivel of your hips atop him makes his teeth grit in euphoria. seeing this spurs you on more, momentum picked up from the way william throws his head back, leaving his neck at your mercy and you of course can’t help but nip and kiss and lick over it, the sounds being pulled from his throat so saccharine and tuneful.

he pants out with a vice-like grip on your hips, the skin white with the extreme grasp his fingers have on it. “s-slow, baby, slow…” he pleads while you rock and grind and bump into his crotch like a woman gone mad, chasing a high that is just at the tips of your fingers… just a little more.

you whine out his name, scratching at his chest where you had previously been resting your hands for leverage, and he finds a little leeway before taking a gulp of courage and sitting up to meet the stirring of your pelvis with his, cock sputtering up into your cunt as he supports you with his large hands behind your back.

the position is possibly the most intimate you’ve been in — naked chest to naked chest, your nipples rubbing against the softness of his pecs, your knees on either side of him as his are crossed underneath you, body so much smaller than his, lips so close to touching with every jerk and bump but never really kissing, always teasing. it’s all so fucking hot and there’s nothing you want more than for him to fill you up once more.

the knock-knock-knock of another orgasm has you pulling him so close against you, practically forcing him to shift his entire weight on top of you. you feel the need to bury him inside your skin. to be bound entirely and irrefutably. his lips, just now attached to the mounds on your chest, start rambling in his native tongue. you're not quite fluent in french but you've been with william long enough to pick up some things; the important things. through his wanton panting and sighing, he's spilling all his desires to you — telling you that he can't wait to see you swollen with his child, can’t wait to see if they’ll have his hair or your smile, can’t wait for you both to finally be the parents you had dreamed of being. there’s a fire in his words and it sets your whole body alight, scratching down his back in vicious streaks that will surely be present for the next week.

“w-william, please,” you wail, legs burning in their effort to capture your awaiting high. “put a baby in me, fuck, please, fuck a baby into me.” freshly hot tears are fully spilling down your cheeks now, the ecstasy of his cock pounding into you and the promises he’s made to you proving too much and you need relief from it all, desperately.

“gonna do just that, angel, gonna fill you up nice and good,” he moans out, pulling you in closer to his gyrating form. “gonna fill you up over and over until we get that baby.”

and that’s the tipping point for you, your husband’s words, so sincerely sweet yet sinful, being the thing to push you over and have you cumming with a thunderous scream of his name. your pussy gushes around his rigid length, walls fluttering around it so forcefully you’re scared they’ll be stuck like this forever. william soon follows with his own orgasm, a few throaty moans that sound so pretty coming from his plump limps as they match the rhythm with which he spurts his sticky cum into you. your legs tremble in both exhaustion and bliss around william, and he’s quick to soothe them over with his hands, mouth landing kisses over your face and your chest.

there’s only a symphony of heavy panting from you both now, and the occasional whimper or soft moan, as william lays on his back with you on top of him, large hands running up and down your back to steady your breathing, his dick still firmly in you. you're pretty sure you've forgotten what it feels like to be empty and without him.

“you okay?” he mumbles into your hair, a loving kiss left on your forehead before he tilts your chin up to look at him, your eyes weary and ready to doze off. you can only muster up an mmhmm but william is determined to end the night perfectly for you.

“hang on, baby, okay?” he requests before slowly pulling out of your heat and dashing to the bathroom where you can hear the din of him rummaging through cupboards and running the bathtub’s taps, leaving you to laze around with a pool of cum leaking out of you. the sudden crash of something metal followed by a shit! is enough to pull you out of the clasps of sleep, however.

your husband reappears swiftly, a boyishly guilty look on his face to which you raise an eyebrow.

“everything’s fine!” he assures your silent questioning. “i want to take care of you right now, though. please?”

you flash him a tired but teasing smile in affirmation and he picks you up bridal-style, giving a quick kiss to your lips before walking you over to the bathtub and gently placing you in the comfortably warm and bubbly water where you feel your muscles instantly relax. the calmingly fragrant scent of chamomile fills your nostrils as you sigh up at your lover.

“thank you, honey,” you speak, a slight croak to your voice from honest exhaustion. william nods at you before plotting another sweet kiss on your temple.

“room for a little one?” he asks with a beautiful grin on his face, teeth all out in his signature style.

“always.” you scoot forwards to make room for him and he slips his much larger frame behind you, instantaneously pulling your back into his chest, hands delicately soothing over your tummy as he delivers a bunch of kisses across the plane of your shoulders.

“sounds stupid but i already have a list of names that i wanna go over with you.” he says shyly after a moment of quiet.

you giggle and set a devoted kiss to the wedding band on his ring finger.

“i’m all ears.”

#MAH DICK FELL AWFF #guys it’s not even funny anymore i NEED him to put a baby in meeeeeeeeee 😫😫😫😫😫😫#literally the only french person that deserves rights EVURRRRRRRR he can put his oui oui baguette right inside this pu-#the only man i would cook and clean for i promiseeeee you #william saliba #william saliba imagine #william saliba smut #william saliba x reader #william saliba x you #william saliba x y/n #football imagine #footballer imagine #footballer smut #˗ˏˋ 📝 ˎˊ˗

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maple-the-awesome · 5 months

Text

Twilight's Calling ||

Pairing: Twilight x GN! Reader

Words: 2,544

Requested by anonymous: Heeey. First of I love your writing style! It’s just amazing! Cause twilight is my fav. could you maybe write something like xreader with him, for example they’re in a battle or smth? Only if it’s okay ofc! Thanks a lot and have a good day and week! best wishes :) Twilight may or may not be my favorite Link, too (TP was the first game I finished, so I'm a little bias, okay?). I've had this draft lying around unfinished for awhile, so I figured this would be the perfect opportunity to finish it. Here you go, hun 💜

Zelda Masterlist 🤎Fandom Masterlist

It's getting pretty late. 'Late' as in the sun has long set and the last time you saw any of the boys was about an hour ago when Time finally managed to herd the remaining stragglers out of the room, although he was being a bit hypocritical seeing as he still lingered in the doorway for a good minute himself afterwards (not that you dared comment on it).

Since their heavy footsteps had faded into silence - and aside from the innkeeper sometimes shuffling down the hall or a sudden 'pop' of the bedside candle - you've been left entirely alone with your thoughts as they dance on the very edge of sleep, but you refuse to lose balance. It's your shift. You promised to be a good lookout and it took a lot of convincing to even get the position, so you can't disappoint no matter how heavy the weight upon your eyelids or heart is.

You've always been well aware of the risks that would come with this mission and from traveling alongside nine heroes of legend; troublesome young men and boys who can definitely handle themselves in battle, however none immune to making possible mistakes. You expected one to occur at some point, yet never wanted the aftermath to be anything too serious.

Wild getting a decent scar on his forehead was a scare when it initially happened, but he was back on his feet within the hour - less than that actually, because if you remember correctly, his quick recovery had been controversial and resulted in quite a bit of bickering. The bottom line is that Wild bounced back with little to no trouble thanks in part to his thick skull. This is different. Twilight has yet to follow his protege's example and it's been hours.

You must admit you underestimated the situation at first due to a lack of context. It's not to say you didn't care about Wolfie when he got struck, however there's a notable difference between a wild 'pet' that occasionally trails your group and the very man you've grown to secretly admire over the months you've spent traveling together. If you had known then that they are one of the same, you would've likely shared a similar level of panic as the Champion, but instead you were left in the dark until Four finally explained Twilight's secret to you.

Even at that moment, although more worried, you figured everything would be okay. Wolfie or Twilight, a fairy should be able to do the trick to heal the worst of injuries, so one can imagine your heartbreak once learning that, for some odd reason, the state of his wounds haven't changed even under a fairy's sacred touch. That's when you truly became fearful, but you refused to show it outwardly - no more than whatever made itself present on your face, anyway.

Making a fuss won't aid Twilight's condition nor will it calm the concerns of your friends, so instead you had mostly stayed out of the way until Time announced everyone should get some rest. At that point, you made your presence known, quick to shoot your hand into the air while volunteering to take the first shift for watching over Twilight. Champion was the only one to fight you for it and honestly, you still aren't certain how you won the argument, but here you are, sitting quietly at Twilight's bedside while trying desperately to keep yourself from descending into madness as you fret over his well-being.

He's doing somewhat better after Hyrule's magic managed to stop most of the bleeding, however his wound remains deep without any further healing progress and his skin is drained into a pale, sickly color clear even through the dim glow of candle light. He looks like shit and you'd guess he feels like it, too, seeing as his face curls into a pained expression every now and again, a whispered groan leaving him whenever he slightly shifts his body (not that he moves that much).

It's gotten a bit chilly tonight, however all blankets in the room have been laid over him and you refuse to swoop as low as to steal comfort from a dying man, so you simply keep huddled to yourself, half praying the next shift will come sooner and half praying it won't because a stubbornness inside you is somehow convinced that the simple act of you being here will keep himsafe from death's hands.

You don't pay much attention to the quiet groan that comes from the bed, having already bitterly accepted that there's nothing that can ease whatever pain haunts Twilight during his nightmares, although you do lift your head when a hand shakes its way into view, barely able to carry itself to the edge of the covers where it collapses with a broken echo from its owner, "W...What time is it?"

You almost cry simply by the sight of Twilight's dull eyes staring up at you, half-lidded and only appearing bright if compared to the dark bags hiding underneath them, but you manage to hold back the tears for the sake of not scaring him.

"I-I'm not sure. After sunset," You answer slowly as to prevent any wobbling to your voice.

"And the others? Is every - everyone else okay?" Hylia, he sounds awful, his once handsome, accent-laced voice butchered by a hollow croak.

"Yeah...Yeah, we're all okay - and don't worry about the shadow. Wild managed to take it down - thanks to you tiring it out, I'd say. You sure gave that thing a run for its money there," You attempt to joke lamely. Although your laugh doesn't carry much life to it, Twilight's expression does soften a tad after the sound.

"...Good..." Is all he says before closing his eyes with a sigh through his nose. Meanwhile you fidget nervously, debating with yourself on whether you should let the conversation die off so that he can continue getting rest or keep him talking while he's able to. You sure do love hearing his voice, after all, no matter how broken it may be; it reminds you that someone as great as him is actually real and, after recent events, still alive.

In the midst of your depressed thoughts, you notice Twilight reach his hand out towards you again - or at least it looks like he's trying to. Really, he only has the strength to lift it palm-up slightly off the covers, yet you understand this movement's wordless request. Ever so gently, as if he's made of glass, you take his hand and sandwich it between both of yours. He's a bit too cold for your liking, a sharp contrast to his normally warm touch, not that you draw attention to that worrying detail.

"...Is there anything I can get you?"

He tries to shake his head, but loses will halfway through the action and instead chooses to simply let his head lull to the side towards you. From there he stares for a bit longer than he means to, his dazed brain struggling to process his thoughts at its usual speed.

"Why aren't you sleeping?"

"Someone has to keep an eye on you," You allow a small smile, slowly reaching forward to help move his bangs away from his face, "We're all taking shifts throughout the night. I was just lucky enough to get the first."

Twilight hums, closing his eyes for a brief second when your fingers brush his forehead, "How'd you manage that?"

"Barely. For a second there, I thought I was gonna have to duel the Champion for it - had my hand on my sword and everything before he finally caved," Twilight makes a sound between a scoff and a laugh which makes your smile more genuine even if he does flinch in pain immediately afterwards, "The real question is how I won against Time...Actually, I wouldn't be that surprised if he's secretly standing outside the door as we speak."

A creak of old floorboards in the hallway makes your eyes dart to the door, almost expecting the man in question to walk in and call you out for your jokes, yet you calm that doesn't happen. Twilight brings your attention back to him by moving his thumb against your hand, "Don't tell 'em, but I'm glad it's you here. I like having ya' here with me..."

You press your lips, hoping it'll help you ignore the heat against your cheeks. That must be the first time Twilight has ever openly said he 'likes' anything related to you; you're certain you'd remember any other instances of such a milestone. It might not be the exact sentence you'd want him to use the word in, but it's a step in the right direction, so you'll take it.

"I like having you here with me, too, Twi...which is why I've officially decided that I'm too selfish to let you die on any of us. I don't care if I have to fist-fight Hylia for it; I'm not letting you get out of this journey so easily."

"That right?"

"I swear it on my life."

He chuckles weakly, although the sound is taken over by a fit of coughing. Promptly you pour a small glass of water using the pitcher kept on the bedside table before gently helping him sit up to take a careful sip.

It's insane for you to think that only a few weeks ago, you had been secretly watching him move hay bales at Time's place effortlessly. Now he lies here in bed struggling to hold a conversation, his muscles shaking horribly by the simply action of prompting himself up even slightly. Seeing him like this makes you feel awful, but you also consider yourself blessed to be the one taking care of him during a low point like this, ensuring that he's properly cared for and tended to almost like a spouse would.

"Seems like I'm starting to lose you, farm boy. You should relax and get some more sleep," He makes a face and seems prepared to argue, however he must not have been able to think of anything convincing to say - that or the aching in his bones has become too hard to ignore. Either way, instead of saying a word, Twilight nods droopily before inching his way back down against his soft pillow while you fix the blankets over him again.

"Look on the bright side: make it through this and you'll probably get special treatment from here on out. Get your bags carried for you, have whatever meals you're craving be made each night...If you hobble around a little I'm sure you could even get Time to fuss over you -"

" - And what about you?" Twilight quizzes and you can't tell if he's being serious or just teasing. It feels like the latter, yet the way he watches you while awaiting your reply makes you feel another way; soft and warm, but a tad anxious at the same time, "What can I get from you?"

You pretend to think, although in truth, you already know there wouldn't be any limitations for what you're willing to give. If he asked for the world right now, you'd figure out some way to gift wrap it for him...but that's too embarrassing to admit aloud, "...Depends on what you're thinking and if you can swing it the right way."

He hums, once again staring at you just long enough to make that anxious feeling really prominent. Is there something on your face that no one told you about earlier? Is he judging your messy hairdo that you had no time to fix since the battle? Did you sound too flirtatious in your answer? Maybe his injury has given him the ability to read minds, so now he knows just how desperate you are to earn his affections!

"...If I asked you to stay with me, would you?" Twilight whispers so quietly that you barely hear, yet you do.

"I, uh...Time will be here in an hour or so for his shift, but I won't go anywhere until then, okay?" Not even your poor excuse at smiling can save your stumbled words, yet you pray he doesn't look beyond either. He's loopy from such a stressful day, so it makes sense that he's have trouble properly wording questions. It also makes sense for him to be scared to be left alone - anyone would be in such a state. He doesn't have to worry, though; between you and the boys, someone will always be by his side throughout the night. You'd expect that knowledge to be a relief for him, however Twilight only frowns and looks away with a surprisingly depressed look in his eyes.

Fiddling nervously with your hands upon your lap, you ask carefully, "...Unless you're wanting me to watch over your for the whole night? In that case, I wouldn't mind staying if it would make you feel better. I'm sure the others would be fine with it if they could just check in here and there."

Twilight presses his lips, refusing to look directly at you. If you didn't know any better, you'd say that based on his continued reaction, you're still somehow missing the point of his question, yet no matter how much you rack your brain, you can't think of what else he would've possibly meant.

You were tempted to ask for more clarity, but Twilight speaks before you can, "...I'd like that."

"Yeah?"

He nods bashfully which melts your heart in a way you're sure would be shamefully clear if he were only looking in your direction.

"...Well, since you took one for the team -" Scooting your chair closer to the bed allows you to cross your arms over the mattress and rest your head on top of them. Desperately you try to ignore your nerves and the cute way Twilight curiously looks over at you, "- I'll stay for the night if you promise me one thing."

"Hmm?"

"Stay with me, too? Without you, I might just loose my mind. Don't tell anyone else, but you don't drive me nearly as insane as some of the other boys do," not in the same way at least.

The corner of Twilight's lips turn upwards, his hand taking it's time to move over yours. The second it makes contact, you take the chance to hold onto it, "...Sounds like a deal..."

You match his smile easily, "Get some sleep, Twi. I'll be right here when you wake up, so just focus on getting better for me, alright?"

He hums one last time, drifting off to sleep as commanded where he seems to be far more peaceful than earlier. As promised, you remain by his side until morning, eventually falling victim to quick naps yourself only disrupted whenever someone else sneaks into the room to see how things are going. You're certain you'll be tired tomorrow with an aching back after spending an entire night hunched over, but that's a small price to pay for someone like Twilight. It'll all be worth it to see him recover, granting you even more time to spend by his side through thick and thin.

#x reader #reader insert #legend of zelda x reader #legend of zelda #linked universe x reader #link x reader #linked universe #lu twilight x reader

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lovelettersbyj · 2 months

Text

A King and His Queen ❌

Warnings: Kissing, slight man-handling, intense biting, unprotected sex, slight dom!Coriolanus, ejaculation on body.

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Fem Reader(?).

Summary: After a surprise Academy ceremony, Coriolanus Snow is now one of 24 Academy students in charge of a tribute for the 10th Annual Hunger Games ceremony. Pearl Whitegrove, desperate to climb her way to the top in Panem, must try anything and everything she can to keep Coriolanus Snow focused on the big picture. Even if that means, extreme, and potentially seductive measures.

Word Count: 2,192.

A/N: Happy holidays! I know it's been a minute, but I hope everyone had a wonderful winter break. I've been attempting to draft out how I want these events to play out; I really love Pearl and this toxic love affair so I want to make sure I include everything I thought of. Some of the dialogue might be slightly off from the movie since I'm shaping it around to my idea. I hope you all enjoy! Make sure to comment and let me know what you think. 💛

Also a very happy birthday to Tom Blyth! An absolute coincidence I'm finally posting part two today, but a great one nonetheless.

Read Part One here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The crowds of students, parents, school staff, and Capitol citizens flooded the ballroom floor; everyone clearly in a mild state of panic. Tributes and mentors? Academy students as mentors? There’s no way they’d be able to train these kids to survive a slaughter in The Games. But that wasn't entirely the point, was it?

I pushed my way through the vibrantly dressed bodies, raising myself up as high as I could in search of Coriolanus’ blonde head. About to admit defeat, a hand wrapped itself around my right bicep and pulled me back. I gasped as I turned around, arms wrapping around me and two familiar blue eyes staring right at me, “Are you alright?”

I nodded warily, “Yes.”

Coriolanus guided us stealthily out of the ballroom, avoiding anyone attempting to approach him and rile up an anger-fueled conversation. We ended up outside by the car loading area, thankfully empty. We stood in between the large concrete columns, attempting to stay relatively hidden from any prying eyes.

“What the hell is going on with Highbottom?” Coriolanus snapped, “Students as tributes? Is he out of his mind?”

I chuckled, “Clearly. Those kids are all going to die anyway; the Games themselves are getting more boring every year. If something doesn’t change they’ll just stop doing them altogether. The Capitol is desperate.”

Coriolanus went silent, his eyes glued to the floor. I watched him a moment, then stepped closer to him, lifting my hands and clutching his pale cheeks in my grasp. “Coryo, look at me.”

His serious expression remained, but his eyes began to soften as he focused on me.

“You’ve got this, Coriolanus Snow. You’re going to show Highbottom and everyone in the Capitol what you’re capable of.”

He chuckled, “But Lucy Gray—” “I don’t care about Lucy Gray. I care about you, and I care about you impressing Dr. Gaul. I know you want to help your family, and I know you want to ultimately work in the Capitol, right?”

He nodded, raising his hands and lightly holding my forearms, “I want to do great things with Panem.” He spoke so softly; a first glimpse at vulnerability. His eyes almost watering, looking at me a bit more desperately now, “I want to be President.”

“And you will, Coryo. I know you will. But you can’t lose sight of what they want out of the games. It’s not just about who survives. It’s about who they remember the most… And they’ve got to remember you.”

Fuck it. Before thinking twice I pulled his face towards me and kissed his warm lips. I felt his hands tense against my arms; fingers pressing a bit harder on the skin. This kiss was so comforting, for both of us. He sighed into the kiss, growing more confident now and pulling me into him. Suddenly a cough followed by someone clearing their throat made us pull away hastily.

Turning around, we both were uncomfortably joined by Dean Highbottom, who leaned against a concrete pillar with his lips draining the last drops of a clear liquid in a tiny glass bottle.

“Always creeping around, aren’t you Highbottom?” I chuckled dryly, turning to face him as Coryo’s nervous hand gripped my wrist, “Don’t you have children to terrorize?”

A ghost of a smile decorated his face; sarcasm dripping from a chuckle as he looked up at me, “Hanging around the Snows, are we Pearl? That’s low, even for you.”

I took a step closer, but Coryo’s hand held me firm and prevented me from getting any closer, “You better watch how you speak about Coriolanus and his family. They’re more powerful than you could ever dream of being.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I don’t crave power… unlike some people. Isn’t that right, Snow?” His gaze darted over towards Coriolanus, who stood silent behind me.

I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms and shaking my head, “You can try to scare the Academy graduates all you want, but Coriolanus is going to win. You’ll see.”

Highbottom chuckled again. “With that little songbird? I don’t think so.” He began to walk away from us, heading back inside to the chaos he had created not long ago. Stopping in his tracks, he turned to face us again, “It’s a good thing Whitegrove is here to stand up for you, huh Snow? But once the Games begin, you’re going to be all alone… Then we’ll see how powerful you really are.”

———————————————————

The sun had set in Panem, everyone holed up in their homes, anxious after the ground-breaking news. I was with Coriolanus in the old Snow mansion, sitting in the living room with my legs crossed and watching the blonde haired man pace back and forth as he explained to Tigris exactly what had happened earlier that day. She was disapproving of the way Snow talked about Lucy Gray Baird, practically chastising him for doing so. She snapped back at him saying that if she was in Lucy’s position, she wouldn’t trust Coryo at all— my blood boiling at the insult.

“What else is he supposed to do then, Tigris? Let her go into the Games knowing full well she’s going to die right away? Let’s be serious for a moment.”

The two of them looked over to me now, Tigris’ eyes narrowed, “So what do you suggest?”

I paused for a beat, thinking sincerely. I still had no idea what Coriolanus should do, but there was no way in hell he was about to lose this ridiculous competition. He needed to win… I needed him to win.

“That’s what I thought.” She spat out dryly.

—————

Tigris had abandoned Coriolanus and I in a bubbling rage, closing herself away in her room for the night. I now sat in an old, worn out chair in the corner of Coryo’s small room. He nervously picked some clutter off of the ground, rummaging around in a quick attempt to make everything seem a bit more presentable.

“It’s okay, Coryo.” I assured softly, “Just relax.”

Resting a broken pencil on his desk, he sat himself on the edge of his small bed, directly across from me. We basked awkwardly in a moment of silence, before he exhaled a nervous breath, “I have no idea what I’m going to say to her tomorrow.”

“I think showing up at the train station is a smart idea. I doubt any of the other mentors would ever think about doing something like that, you’re on the right track.”

I stood up, shrugging my coat off of my shoulders and tossing it onto the back of the chair. Stepping closer to Coryo, I delicately lifted a hand onto a stray curly lock that hung over his forehead, tucking it back behind his ear and cupping his face, “You’re a brilliant man, Coriolanus Snow. You’re going to get Lucy Gray Baird to trust you, and you will be King of Panem one day.”

“King?” His eyebrows furrowed.

I chuckled, “King, President. Whatever you prefer.”

“There’s no way I’m going to win with her, she’s not going to last a day—” “She doesn’t need to last a day. She just needs to be remembered; so that you can be remembered.”

Coryo’s features went soft; eyes watering at the thought of how low his chances were. The fate of his future in Panem rested in the arms of a lowly girl from District 12. I cupped his face with both hands now, brushing away a tear that managed to slip down.

“If you can impress Dr. Gaul by the time all of this is over, you won’t need to worry about some District 12 country bum. You hold all the power, Coriolanus. You are powerful.”

Slowly, I lowered myself in between his legs, straddling his right thigh. His eyes darted down to watch the way I pressed down onto him, his mouth letting out a soft gasp.

“Pearl…”

Coryo’s eyes met mine, and our gazes held a moment. Suddenly he wasted no time in kissing me, his hands gripping the back of my neck to hold me in place as his lips tackled mine. I wrapped both arms around his wide shoulders, using his body to steady myself as my energy quickly grew weak under his touch.

Hastily in between kisses, my fingers fumbled with his white shirt buttons in a desperate attempt to pull the material off of his body, Coriolanus doing the same with the zipper of my golden dress. His hands slowly glided up the sides of my body, long fingers taking in what he could as he made his way up to my breasts. An excited spark went up my spine, feeling his cool, pale hands against my warm flesh.

His hands cupped the outer curvature, massaging the breasts slowly. I bit my lip at his intricate touch, closing my eyes and slightly leaning my head back as I swallowed hard. At this notion, Coryo immediately leaned forward and clung his lips onto my fully exposed neck, playfully digging his teeth and swirling his tongue on a single, concentrated spot. Eventually his hands expertly unclasped the bra, and the clothing item also found its way quickly to the floor.

My hand rested on his fully hard cock, pressing aggressively against his tight black slacks. I knead my hand slowly, making sure to guide it along the full length. Coriolanus groaned, his head falling onto my exposed shoulder as he was fully at my mercy. I slipped his earlobe in between my lips, biting it teasingly as I slipped my hand past the pant confines and through the boxer briefs. His cock was rock solid, and at the touch of my hand twitched excitingly. I guided my hand along the length, only slightly cupping his balls before working my way up and beginning a steady pump rhythm.

“Oh my god, fuck,” Coriolanus gasped, one hand wrapped around my wrist as I continued to work my way along his cock. His eyes fluttered closed, and I pressed my lips onto his forehead as his breaths grew short and aggressive; I knew he was close.

Suddenly he pulled my hand out, and in a quick switch in attitude, he was back in charge. Coriolanus ripped my dress down, making sure to include my panties as he left me fully nude. He finished pulling off his pants and boxers, and with both hands on my waist, pulled me on slowly over his fully erect dick.

“Those were some pretty inspiring words,” He spoke in a low growl, guiding my hips as he slowly rocked me back and forth against him, “You just want a man with power, huh?”

“Oh,” I shuddered, completely at a loss of control. My core pulsed as my dripping warmth completely coated onto his entire girth. His hands pressed deeply onto my hip bones, guiding my rhythm as his mouth sucked hard on my exposed collar bone. My hands dug into his soft, blonde hair, looping my fingers in his curls as I held onto him dearly.

He continued his pace, my grinding trying to become a bit more desperate as I felt a tight ball of heat build up in my core. I started to pant, pulling tightly on his hair as I moaned out, “I’m going to c-cum.”

Coriolanus smirked in delight, moving a hand down to my clit and rubbing the sensitive bud vigorously with his thumb as he gave me a long kiss, swirling his tongue on my lower lip before pulling away and whispering, “Cum for me, my queen.”

His deep voice was enough to push me over the edge, and I clung to his broad back as I dropped my head onto his right shoulder, my teeth sinking into his skin as I felt my warm juices release completely onto his lap.

“Coryo,” I gasped out, and I felt his chest rise and fall in a soft chuckle, pleased with the mess I had made on his body. He wrapped his arms around my curves, pulling me close as I continued to slowly ride out my high.

“I can get used to this, sweetheart.” Coriolanus smiled, lifting my chin to look up at him as he left a tender kiss on my lips, “You’re beautiful.”

I chuckled softly, kissing him again on the cheek as he helped lift me up. My legs slightly wobbled as I steadied myself, and he immediately reached over to grab a cloth. We both laughed, slightly embarrassed as we cleaned ourselves up. Coriolanus and I settled in his bed, practically clinging to each other under his bedsheet cover. “You’re going to do great tomorrow, Coriolanus. I believe in you.”

His hand held the side of my face as his thumb repeatedly stroked my cheek softly, “With you by my side, all my doubts are fading away.”

I had him. He trusts me—needs me. He’s mine.

“Is that why you called me your queen?” I giggled, leaning up to kiss him.

He smirked, nodding his head slightly, “As you said, I’m going to be the King of Panem one day. Every King needs a Queen, right?”

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prettyoatmeal · 1 year

Text

Love to Hate Each Other (König x Fem!Reader)

Hello!! I promise I'm not dead!!! I've been super busy recently and had some writers block but I'm doing better now!! I'll be finally answering the requests I've had and upload some more from my drafts :)

CONTENT WARNING: Smut <333 Hate sex, unprotected sex, creampie, size difference, enemies to lovers, arguing, pettiness, sexual and non-sexual degrading (receiving and giving).

SUMMARY: You’d been a part of TF141 for a while now as their best sniper, however, it was recently stated that KorTac would team up with you lot for a mission. You’ve been training with him since and got that little bit of extra skill in your possession, you have the upper hand which drives König mad. You were put in charge of him as to test your leadership skills however it doesn't go as planned.

Word Count: 2926

Masterlist here!

***************

The fucking nerve of him. Would it kill him to show you just a little bit of respect? It had happened all too quickly. The way his voice boomed at you could've killed you in an instant. All you could do was think back to the argument.

...

"Can you stop shooting at me for fucking once, König?" You'd sneered at him after getting to the safe house. "I know I'm a better sniper than you but you don't need to be all petty 'bout it." "I'm sorry, maybe if you weren't snooping around and staying at your dedicated post like you were supposed to, I wouldn't have shot at you." He wanted to slam the door but knew better than to create another loud bang, "and you're not a 'better' anything than me, your ego is just too high."

"Oh, really? Then why did YOUR commander put you under my supervision for this mission, huh?"

Those words made let out him growl under his breath. He knew the truth, though he was too stubborn to admit. You had skill, but he just didn't and to give you that satisfaction.

"Forget it, just keep your whiny voice down. Don't need anyone hearing us a mile away." His accent got thicker as he hissed his words out at you. "My voice down? Really? Maybe if you hadn't given our spots away every ten minutes, we wouldn't even need to be hiding here! You ought to fix that little issue of yours.”

And that’s what set him off.

“You know what I think your issue is, little miss perfect? I think your problem is that you’re not ready to being a leader, yet they put you in charge of me anyway and you go along with it, ja?” With each word he spat out, he took a step towards you. “I am fully capable of working on my own. YOU left your post. YOU put yourself in danger. You don’t get to be an incompetent little rat then proceed to blame me for it.”

With large steps he’d leaned over you. His piercing eyes felt as if they'd stabbed you, looking down at you with anger, annoyance, disappointment through his hood. You could hear those words become unfamiliar, fuzzy, distorted. Guilt set in.

"You may be a better sniper than me, but you'll never gain that role of leader. It was a mistake they made to put you in charge of me."

König was never one to take advantage of his height with his teammates, he wasn't like this in general. He had a lot of pent up anger towards you, and by god you were scared out of your mind. But you couldn't show that. Not now, you couldn't let him know how much he frightened you. But he knew. He could easily tell. And so you just stood there with an unchanging composure, taking any of the words he'd hurled at you.

"I don't need someone to tell me what to do, and especially not someone like you. Go sleep your bitchy attitude off, I'll take first watch." And with that, he stormed away from you.

...

The bed was uncomfortable. But you weren't sure if it was the bed or if it was the tension in the room. You couldn't sleep. So you just laid there on your side, the argument rerunning itself over and over and over again in your mind. You were uneasy, on edge around him, even if his attention wasn't focused on you. Just being in the same room as him was enough. Yet you still felt petty enough to need to have the last word.

"You're an asshole." Muttering it out made your heart race, but you couldn't care any less.

The rustling of whatever he was doing stopped and after a while, you heard him let out a groan of irritation, muttering something in German under his breath.

"Will you quit it? It's over and done with. Hush up and go to sleep."

The way he'd growl at you to quit talking sent goosebumps over your body out of fear, yet you couldn't bring yourself to keep yourself quiet.

"No, I'm not going to quit." You'd said as you sat up from that uncomfortable mess called a bed. "You're an asshole. You need to hear that." You'd shot him a look of disgust as his eyes met yours from across the room. The lights were dim, but you could still see him quite clearly. You could feel as the air became thick again, the tension between you two growing once more.

"What are you expecting out of bringing it up again, Miss Perfect?" He'd shot back as his eyes glanced back to god knows what he was that he was doing, you couldn't quite make it out.

You'd yanked your legs over the edge of your so called bed, "I think you're forgetting I'm still in charge of you. I'd certainly accept an apology."

He didn't even look back up at you, it was as if he couldn't care any less.

"For what? Hurting your feelings?" He teased.

"You were extremely disrespectful and-"

"And nothing. Go back to sleep." He’d groaned, feelings of annoyance filling his system. Cutting you off just like that. But you were taking none of it.

“What is your problem with me!?" You'd stood up, making your way over to where he was sitting. Your own lips curled to a snarl, pointing fingers. "You have no reason to be so pissy with me, I've done nothing to you!"

This wasn't a common occurrence. Not for you. But he'd really ticked you off. König was being difficult, and you were too, but that didn't take away from the fact that you had no idea what he was so upset about with you. What he was REALLY upset about with you. As terrified as you may be by the hunk of the man, you weren't going to let yourself be demeaned by him.

You could see his eyes narrow at your words. His figure rose, towering over you. Your heart pounded in your chest as you felt your knees getting weak at the sight of the beastly stature leaning towards you.

"You really want to get into this, sweets?" Hands on his hips.

"I'm not going to let myself be degraded by you! Let alone someone I'm supervising."

And so you stood there, staring each other down. The tension was thick enough to cut with scissors. König, the very person you'd been training with for the past few weeks, standing over you for the very sake of intimidation. You'd almost thought he'd raise a hand at you, but you knew that he'd known better than to do such a thing. The person you'd become good acquaintances with staring down at you, seething, fury in his eyes.

"You want to know why I'm so upset?" jabbing his gloved finger at your chest, he took a step which caused you to take one back. He leaned down, making sure you'd hear every last word which escaped his mouth. "You know how much it kills someone when someone has the skills with a sniper you could only dream of? When you've been in the game for longer than you could imagine, and some little girl who's barely been in the game suddenly has the upper hand."

You couldn't believe it. Your eyes softened for a second before your expression had contorted again, taking a hold of his wrist with an iron grip and pulling it away from your chest.

"You've got to be kidding me..." you sighed, "this whole time your problem was THAT!?"

His eyes stayed focused on you with no sign of leaving.

"God, I hate you so fucking much." You snarled with a sick chuckle. This whole argument could've been avoided.

"The feelings' mutual, Schatz."

His face was so close to yours, you could practically feel his hot breath through the hood he had been wearing. Your hand was still latching onto his wrist, though your hand was starting to give in from putting all your pressure into your grasp.

You had nothing else to say, so you stayed silent. You both did, eyeing each other down to the core. It took a good while before you two had taken glances to the side where you held his wrist put. It seemed you'd both had the same idea as your grip loosened before he mirrored your wrist with his, taking your wrist into his palm. It fit perfectly. The way his hand could so easily wrap around it, taking a tight hold. It made your knees weak.

Your breathing quickened as you kept your eyes on his. The tension continued to thicken, though not just anger this time. There was something else filling the air. The feeling of that intimacy lurked around you two. It was too intimate for your liking, but you couldn't bring yourself to pull away. Your cold eyes glanced back to König's, but he wasn't looking at you anymore. No. His attention was centred on your lips. Fuck. You knew what would be coming next.

One minute, you two were ready to tear each other's heads off, the next, you two were making out. His lips against yours, hungry. Starving. Forceful, but not, both at the same time. The way his arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer, before he made you take some steps back enough for your calves to hit the frame of that pitiful thing you have been calling a bed.

You pulled away to catch your breath, a string of spit still connecting you two before the fabric of his masked fell to cut that string apart. He'd pushed you back as if he was in a rush, like if he was catching a train in an hour, lifting your legs so they'd wrap around his hips.

"If you really hated me, you wouldn't let me all up on you like this." He let out a sly chuckle as his hands pinned your wrists to you sides.

"Shut your fucking mouth and keep kissing me." You ordered, looking away from him in a bashful manner.

"Yes, Ma'am." He replied as he guided your hand to push the fabric of his mask away, revealing his lips once more before they crashed against yours. You both needed to let off some steam, it seemed that this was the most efficient way for the two of you.

You let out a small whimper as König began to move his hips against yours, grinding against down onto you. It wasn't long before he'd removed your trousers and pushed his middle finger inside you. He'd sucked on it a little beforehand to coat it with saliva, but it wasn't like it was needed anyway. You were practically soaking by the time he'd pushed it in, and it wasn't long either until he'd begun to curl his finger inside you which made you whimper at the feeling. He felt so much better than your fingers alone.

"Look at you, so wet already. Think you're ready for another finger?"

You couldn't help but tighten around his fingers already as he pushed a second finger inside you. You'd muttered a small 'fuck' under your breath at the feeling, earning a small hum of approval from König. His fingers could easily hit against that bundle of nerves. He knew he found it once you let out that cry of pleasure, making him chuckle as he rapidly pressed against the same spot over and over again which made you let out a symphony of moans and whimpers as your wetness grew.

He soon decided you were ready, becoming rather impatient as he'd quickly slide down his bottoms to reveal his growing erection. Your eyes gawked at him for how big he was. How would it ever fit.

"You sure you want to do this? Can't guarantee I'll be able to stop once we're started." His voice was low, the arrogant undertones tied in with the way he spoke irritated you.

You nodded.

With no time wasted, he lined his tip against your pulsing cunt before pushing into you. You let out a long sigh in unison with him as you felt him stretch you out with a mix of pain and pleasure. It wasn't long before he'd started moving in and out of you, and soon your voices filled the room along with the slapping noises of repeated skin-on-skin contact, making your eyes flutter closed as your legs wrapped around him.

The way he moved inside you was different. It felt different. It wasn't like anything you'd felt before. Perhaps hate sex was your new biggest turn on. Oh boy. This definitely wasn't going to be a one time thing. You could already tell.

You could feel yourself getting closer, and you could very much feel the way König was throbbing inside you. The bed creaked non-stop, the room reeked of sweat and sex, with no feelings behind it. Just sex. And goodness, did it feel good. Mustering up the strength, you propped yourself up onto your elbows to take in the sight of the man pounding into you. And like that, your eyes met his once more. Half closed with the slightest distortion, he let out a low chuckle as he gripped onto your wrists once more and pinned them next your head. With a single, extremely forceful thrust, he was able to hoist your hips up further against him, almost like in a mating press. The new position allowed him to hit a whole other region, able to slam against your g-spot over and over again, causing a harmony of whimpers and moans to emerge from your throat which you just weren't able to hold in. You were so lost in the pleasure, as you almost couldn't comprehend what König was speaking. Leaning down to press his lips against your neck, he whispered to you;

"See, Schatz? You're so much prettier when you're not unnecessarily running your mouth."

That stupid nickname. That stupid term of endearment he used on you drove you insane. Well, did he hate you or not? You could never tell. The way his hands slipped upwards, unballing your fists so he could intertwine his fingers with yours, the way he'd pound into you as rough as he could yet he'd still make that time to hold onto your hands, the way his lips would brush over bruise and bite mark he'd leave on your skin. It was all so confusing. So mind boggling. It made you want him even more.

"Y-You don't- oh fuck.. -hold the hand... of the person you hate during sex.." You'd managed to choke out a single sentence between König's thrusts. And he was having none of it.

"Shh, shh.." He'd shush you, "Halt die Klappe, stop fucking talking... stop talking. Keep quiet for me, Schatz." His hips began to slam against you faster, making sure to hit against every nook and cranny inside you. Schatz. That word echoed in your mind.

You were in no room to argue again so you did as you were told, you stopped talking and let your moans continue to spill out. You could feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm by the second, and it was only a matter of time before he removed a hand from your wrist and moved it between your legs, his fingers moving against your clit in a circular motion. He knew what you wanted, and he was going to give it to you. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears. His hot breath hitting against your sensitive, overly bruised neck, the way his fingers circled your plump bud, the way his thrusts felt like there was still no end in sight was all too much.

Taking in a deep breath, you rolled your eyes back before squeezing them shut. You were unable to hold back that loud cry of pleasure as your orgasm hit you like a tsunami, coming fully undone to those fingers of his. You could feel yourself pulsing and throbbing against his fingers, your hearing gone fuzzy by the time. You squeezed tightly around König's cock, in complete euphoria as he made you ride out your orgasm. Your hips bucked against his as you just barely opened your eyes again.

"Oh, Schieße... (Y/N)!" He'd moaned out as he pulled away from your neck and crashed his forehead against yours, gripping onto the flesh of your hips as he practically pulled you into him with each slam. One more thrust and he'd let out a final moan before filling you up with his seed. There was... a lot. You could feel his cum oozing out of you before he even pulled out.

Your breathing was heavy, both of you coming down from cloud nine. The best sex, and best orgasm, you'd ever had.

"You don't hate me." You were the one to speak first. The fabric of König's mask was pushing up against you every now and again with each heavy breath he'd release, "you don't kiss someone and hold their hands like that when you hate them..."

His eyes opened, staring right back at yours,

"You seemed like the type to need that emotional support, I was simply just trying to provide it."

"So you do still care about me."

He went silent before he closed his eyes again, burying his 'face' into your neck.

"... Halt die Klappe,,"

***************

#könig headcanons #cod mw2 #könig mw2 #könig cod #call of duty #konig cod #Konig mw2 #Konig x reader #König x reader #König fluff #König imagines #Konig imagines #mw2 x reader #Konig fluff #König smut #Konig smut #mw2 smut

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phoebe-delia · 9 months

Note

Hello! I saw a post where you mention prompts. Idk if they are still open or what kind. 👉👈 but I’m humbly asking for Draco with dimples 🙈

When You Smile

@xx-thedarklord-xx Hi hello!! I am very Normal and Nonchalant about getting a prompt from you!! Not at ALL fangirling!! Nope, not one bit!! *screams into a pillow* *kicks feet*

ANYWAY! Here is what I've got. I hope it does your prompt justice. I am very sorry it's so late; I would not blame you if you forgot you even sent this. I am soooo bad at answering prompts in a timely fashion. (I do technically have prompts open indefinitely, of pretty much any kind, but I just cannot guarantee they will be done in a timely fashion. There are prompts in my ask box and drafts from literal years ago, but such is the life of a writer with ADHD, I guess, lol.)

I hope you enjoy!!! And thanks for the prompt!

"Potter, are you even listening to me?"

Harry is pulled from his daze, refocusing his eyes on Draco's now slightly frowning face. Draco glares at him, mouth slanted downward, and that simply won't do.

"Sorry, what were you saying?" Harry says as earnestly as he can, resting his arms next to the library books stacked on the table.

When Harry thought about it, he was fairly certain the first time he was conscious of the flutter in his stomach around Draco was also the first time he noticed—well, it. Draco had been grinning, laughing heartily at something Pansy'd said, and Harry'd seen the sweet, subtle dimple at the corner of his mouth.

That one tiny divot. A small quirk that could be coaxed from his cheek if you made him grin wide enough.

Since then, Harry knew he was a goner.

Now, Draco rolls his eyes, but his lips tick up, and Harry feels a jolt of triumph at seeing the dimple reappear in the corner of Draco's mouth.

"There it is," he whispers, eyes fixated on that precious little mark. He watches as it fades into smooth skin, blinks, and then looks up into confused gray eyes and a furrowed brow.

"What? Do I have something on my face?" Draco reaches up and gently wipes at his cheek, frown deepening when his fingers come up dry. He looks back at Harry. "Well?"

Harry feels his cheeks heat. "Sorry. I got distracted."

"I could tell that much, though I'm not sure what entertainment you could have possibly found on my face. I do hope you had your fun," Draco says bitterly.

"No no, it's not—" Harry glances away, unable to look at Draco. "I just like your smile," he admits to the desk in front of him.

"My smile?"

"Yes." Harry forces himself to meet Draco's eyes. "When you smile, you get a little dimple right—" he reaches up and brushes the corner of Draco's lip with his thumb—"there."

He brushes the spot again, because he can't quite help himself, and pulls his hand away from Draco's shocked face. His palm feels cold.

"Oh," Draco whispers. "Well, I suppose that's alright then."

"Y-yeah?" Harry's breath catches.

Draco reaches across the table, slowly as though to let Harry pull away at any moment, and laces their fingers together.

"Yes," Draco says. And he smiles.

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gothicprep · 5 months

Text

so, apparently marvel is in disarray. ahead of the marvels coming out this weekend, variety dropped a bomb on the studio's somewhat dire state of affairs, as the franchise has hit its first real rough patch since the release of iron man 15 years ago. among the issues: jonathan majors, whose domestic violence arrest continues to hang over marvel's plans to make his character the thanos-like heavy for the next sequence of movies, the weak box office projections for the marvels (which some have said is tracking lower than recent bombs like the flash), the unending flood of hashtag content on disney plus which is overwhelming audiences who are finding it harder to keep up with the interlocking stories that have served marvel so well over the years, shoddy visual effects, spiraling budgets such as the reported $25mil an episode for she-hulk, a show that looked terrible because of the shoddy effects work aforementioned, behind the scenes chaos as kevin feige works to slash budgets and kill projects that aren't coming together. one movie at risk is the forthcoming blade reboot with mahershala ali, which has gone through rewrite after rewrite including reportedly one draft in which blade was the fourth lead in, quote, "a narrative led by women and filled with life lessons".

that last line has provided a lot of laughs for people like jay gothicprep, and critics who insist that marvel's efforts to diversify the lineup have led to much of this disaster, indicative of disney's overall failure with things like indiana jones and the dial of destiny or animated projects like strange world or lightyear. while this is potentially true (i guess, it's possible) it doesn't seem true because this certainly wasn't the case when black panther and captain marvel were both cracking the billion dollar mark a few years ago. rather it just seems, more simply, that marvel has run its course. marvel was hit by a double-whammy of endings. the thanos storyline that'd dominated the first ten or so years of the project came to an end. at the same time, the pandemic began and disney plus started flooding the zone with content, creating a natural break point for audiences that had no desire to watch hours of tv to understand 1.5 plot points in whatever the next movie that's coming out is.

this preamble is getting kind of long, and i have a lot more to say, so i'm going to continue to thought dump about this under a cut.

first of all, i'm still laughing like a week later at the women led life lessons description. no one has disputed that it happened. that description is the funniest thing i've ever read in a trade industry report possibly ever. what in the hell, my friends. did a writer even talk to a producer about what blade was? it's a movie about a guy with a sword who kills vampires! it's pretty straighforward! that sounds like something i want to see! there were three of them already, and two of them were pretty good!

anyway, i think you can take that incredibly ridiculous description of a draft that maybe wasn't the main draft – this movie has been through tons of writers and directors – and see some of the real problems with marvel's creative direction, which is that they've stopped making movies that highlight the core concepts of their characters. there are other problems as well, but when's the last time they put out a movie that was like, "iron man. he's a guy in a metal suit and he fights a bad guy." or "spider man. it's a guy in a spider suit with spider powers. he's got girlfriend problems and he fights crime around manhattan and maybe there's dr octopus." they don't do that. their recent stretch of movies have all been these impenetrable multiverse stuff with ties to tv series that you haven't seen and maybe won't ever see. there was a whole 25 minute section in black panther 2 that was setting up armor wars and ironheart. and like. who needs that sequence, which was boring and looked like total garbage? and now armor wars is being redeveloped lol. they've just departed from a lot of the core concepts that powered their earlier films.

they have some other problems. they've leaned into a slate of characters that is not all that well-known or inherently super popular, even for marvel being able to deliver on making billion dollar films out of guardians of the galaxy and such. maybe with the exception of spider man, which they don't get a full cut from because sony owns the actual movie rights. then there's the fact that the streaming series, by all accounts, aren't great but you *feel* like you need to have seen them. they're all real big problems. marvel needs to go back to making movies that are named after a character who's a superhero with a clear concept. guy with spider powers fights crime in his neighborhood. even though those movies got kind of repetitive, they did well enough because they didn't stray too far from the character concept.

i think, too, as a viewer, when you have a studio churning out so much stuff that's not good, you get the impression that the superhero industry feels entitled to your time and entitled to your money while not delivering.

this summer also represents an interesting counterpoint to what's happened with marvel and dc. the sheer amount of stuff that you devote every waking minute to keeping track of the damn things got exhausting and made movies stop feeling like events. this summer we've had barbenheimer and the eras tour, and those have been both big events and felt exciting. barbie was a chance to be campy, oppenheimer was a chance to see something serious and cinematic, the eras tour was exciting for fans of taylor swift who couldn't afford to spend $3k on taylor swift. and they felt this way because they were all unlike anything you'd seen at the movies in recent years. they had a high standard of quality, and going, it genuinely felt like people were there because they wanted to be, not because they were being force marched by a cultural behemoth to be there. you can't summon that same kind of energy for a marvel movie when it both feels obligatory and you expect it to be bad.

it also feels like there's a certain contempt for the audience where it concerns quality problems. i mean, i don't think that this is the intention. marvel isn't saying "we can deliver this stuff that's garbage and people will see it anyway". but one of the things i thought was the most damning about that variety story was the fact that, on some of the marvel tv shows, the final effects were inserted after the shows were released. so if you watched the show on opening night, you probably didn't see the final effects work. the arrogance involved in that is insane. it speaks to a total vanished pride in putting out a good product.

even some of marvel's better regarded films were heavily edited and heavily worked on right until the end, in part because kevin feige would come in and fix things, so stuff would have to get reworked. that's why effects deadlines were super tight and people were always crunching at the very end of this. there was that incredible quote from sam raimi from a couple months before the second doctor strange came out where he was like, "i think it's done but i'm not sure. marvel, they work on their movies until the very end." the director didn't even know if his own movie was locked or not because he clearly wasn't the one making the decisions about what the final print would look like.

that can work if you're making two movies a year and have a supervisor that comes in during the process and says, "i need you to redo this, in this way". but when you stretch that out to three movies a year, plus god knows how many episodes of television, there's no way to do that and make it a high quality product.

an instructive lesson comes from the book "disneywar", which chronicles michael eisner's time at disney. and one of the things in this book was the development and deployment of "who wants to be a millionaire" in america. bob iger is head of abc at this time. the guys making this show do it for a week. audiences love it. it's putting up huge numbers. everybody is excited. it's crushing it in the ratings. and the people who made it wanted to keep doing special week or two week long engagements that people would show up for. and iger was like, "no. i want this every week, three times a week, forever." and audiences got burnt out on it quickly, because it was something that only really worked as a special that ran for a week and disappeared for a few months. that's what the disney plus strategy feels like with marvel.

#i love watching movies with my friends

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writtenbyred · 1 month

Text

Something Bad // A Matt Murdock x Reader fic // Slow burn

Note: Okay so I finally decided to post something I've had in my docs as a draft for forever, because why not. A slow burn matt murdock x reader romance with a whole lot of original storyline and plot building in this first chapter if you're willing to stick with it until you get the entrance of wonderful and rageful Matt.

Warnings: Reference to sexual violence/assault in this chapter.

Disclaimer: I have, since writing up lots for this story and planning it out and becoming attached to my character, seen other fics using an 'empath' OC, but I have become very attached to 'Ana' and I guess daredevil and all its angst lends itself well to an empath story so I'm sending this out into the ether anyways.

Go forth and read if you would like to <3 - Red

Chapter 1. Emotions.

Sat at a cold, metal table on a particularly uncomfortable chair, you looked intently at the person sitting opposite. There sat a young girl. In her file it said she was 21, but if you hadn’t seen that and had to hazard a guess, you’d have presumed her to be around 18. The way her eyes were cloudy with tears, her hands shaking slightly as she held them up to her chin, elbows lent on the cold metal, it all contributed to making her look younger - small, in that moment.

“It’s okay, Emma” You spoke, edging your hands forward on the table in a subconscious show of support. “You can take your time, we’re in no rush”

Emma looked upwards, then. You watched as a single tear slipped from her eye, only briefly tumbling down her cheek before Emma reached to wipe it with her sleeve.

“I’m sorry,” Emma stuttered a little over her words, her voice raspy from emotion. “I’m being silly, I just-”

As her words cut off mid sentence, you reached your hand forward quickly to place a comforting hand on Emma’s arm. The dark tumbling of vivid feelings - sadness, shame and fear, that you were already feeling inside your chest (or stomach, mind, just about everywhere? You weren’t 100% where the feelings of others ended up locating themselves within you) multiplied until she felt overwhelmed, having to shake her head with an exhale to push through them.

“Do not apologise. You are not being silly, and have nothing to feel sorry for. This is something incredibly difficult you’re doing, and I’m here to help you through it.” You grasped the girl's hand at that point, and in the way that you still did not fully understand, a wave of whatever calm you could find within yourself washed over you and towards Emma for a moment, and the girl let out a sigh as you watched some of that pain leave her. In that moment you felt good, happy that she could provide this sort of relief for somebody, even if only temporarily and not without an increase in your own anxieties.

“Thank you, I… I think I’m ready to talk now” And Emma’s words came at a perfect time, as a few moments later your head turned to the door, a soft knock floating through.

“You can come in” You called out to the officer you knew was standing on the other side, and then the door opened.

A police officer with a kind face stepped into the room, you had spoken with him earlier when you had first arrived - You were pretty sure he had said his name was Brett. He sent a small smile towards you both, and his empathy for the girl's situation shone through, even if you knew he would never be able to understand her emotions quite as well as you could.

“Sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to see how you were getting on” He walked towards the table and you realised then he was holding a mug in his hand, placing it down in front of the girl, he then gestured towards it. “It’s tea.” Emma reached her hand out to grasp it and looked to give him a smile in thanks.

“Sorry Miss Johnson, I didn’t think to get you anything-” You cut off the officer - still unsure if it was definitely Brett he had said, definitely something with a B - before he could finish.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine.” You shifted her attention back to Emma as she released the hand you had half forgotten she was still holding in order to bring the mug to her lips. She seemed more relaxed now, the awful panic of hopelessness and shame creeping in having dissipated slightly.

“So, do you think we’re ready to make a full statement, or?” He trailed off slightly, looking from Emma to you. You looked to the girl, letting the silence continue for as long as necessary, giving the girl the opportunity to make her own decision. You knew her ability to say yes or no had already been taken from her at least once that day, and you weren’t about to do it again.

“Yes, I’m ready to talk now” Emma seemed to sit up a little in her seat, lifting her head higher in her decision.

“Okay, great. I’ll be taking it from you, if that’s okay? We can try to find a female officer if you’ll be more comfortable.” Brett added, pulling the lone chair from the corner of the room to the table in order to sit in between them.

“No, that's fine. But, could Ana stay, please?” Emma’s eyes shifted to yours, and the subtle plea held within them was noticeable, even if you couldn’t feel the emotion rolling off of her.

“That’s okay with me, If Miss Johnson-”

“Of course” You spoke to the room, and then to Emma. “I’ll stay.”

And so you did.

You stayed and listened as Emma spoke of what happened early that morning, when she had been finishing a night shift at around 5am. What had happened when the sky was still dark and Hell’s Kitchen still shrouded in shadows as she made the short walk through back streets towards a bus route. As she had been grabbed, attacked by rough hands who pulled her into an alleyway. You felt fear, panic rising in bubbles from her stomach, to her chest, to her throat. And so you leant forward, taking the girl’s shaking hand in yours when she’d faltered over her retelling, stopping to catch her breath through tears, the emotions intensifying as she worked to calm them. A subtle nudge from your mind, some quiet ringing in your own ears, and you saw as Emma’s shoulders seemed to relax slightly, her rapid breaths slowing and stabilising, allowing her to continue on. You offered her a weak smile in encouragement.

There were many times in your life where you had hated the fact that you were capable of this. When things had become overwhelming when you were younger, when emotions would feel like they were strangling you in some situations.

You hated hospitals, always. The fear, the pain, the hopelessness from so many had twisted painful knots into your stomach, caused your chest to tighten and your eyes to burn, when your Mum was sick, you had avoided the hospital as much as possible, often unable to visit her. your own home, after your mum had died, now that was simply unbearable.

But in rare moments like this, You were grateful for your ability to take some of the girl’s pain away, even if you had to feel it in turn.

Once the difficult conversation was done, Officer Brett Mahoney (you had read his name tag) had stopped the recording and explained to Emma what would happen next. Through this, though, and whilst they left the room and left Emma waiting for whoever she had contacted to come, You’s world was blurred. your body was exhausted, and a deep ache had built within you as you still felt all the painful emotions, now overwhelming your mind after such time. you had to stabilise yourself against the wall in the hallway for a moment whilst Officer Mahoney had gone to talk to an officer, closing your eyes to wait for the momentary dizziness to pass.

Hearing your name made you open your eyes, stand up straighter to face Officer Mahoney.

“Miss. Johnson, thank you for coming down.” His face was serious but the warmth shone through his eyes, as well as his feelings of appreciation, which washed over You like a hot shower, a momentary recess from the dark and cutting emotions you still had swirling within your. “Honestly, I don’t know how you do it, but you really managed to calm her down. She was a mess before, understandably. I don’t know if we would have gotten that statement until morning otherwise. Gives us a much better chance of finding the guy”.

“It’s no bother, I’m happy to do it” You sent a smile at him, your head slowly returning to functioning more capably. And as much as it did take a lot out of you, dealing with the overwhelming emotions of these difficult situations and the police station in general, you really were happy to do it.

“We’re getting a lot of similar cases at the minute” He shook his head at that and a grimace came on You’s face. you knew that, you’d had to do this for far more people lately. “It would be useful to have you there in future.”

A wave of nausea passed over you as another rush of panic and grief washed over you. You stole a glance back to the room you’d just been in, only a few feet away, and you realised you needed to get as far away from it as possible. So you reached your hand into the pocket of your jacket and quickly picked up your card, handing it to Brett with a forced smile.

“Call me here if you ever need someone again” You spoke before lifting your bag on your shoulder and turning to head towards the door, as quickly as you could without causing alarm. On the way out you felt a mixture of anger, grief, happiness, and then some more fear thrown in for good measure, all flowing out of the people sitting in the station.

Once you reached the large entrance doors, finally pushing outside into the cool air, you breathed in a deep sigh of relief. Your hands anxiously patted at your thighs, leaning your whole upper body forward as you shut your eyes, willing your brain to just calm. The emotions within you started to simmer down, as the outside air filled your lungs, it seemed as you exhaled a lot of the pain went with it, and you welcomed that calmer feeling, though some of the dizziness remained.

You hadn’t always been able to do this. As a kid you could remember people praising your empathy, a kind warm child who always wanted to make people feel better, so you supposed maybe it had always lived inside of you. Not that you really understood what ‘it’ was, but it was as you got a little older that it really started. As you started hitting teenage years, it was… overwhelming.

As other kids started being aware of themselves; feeling emotions more deeply, feeling embarrassment, starting to explore romantic interests - You felt it all, except not only for yourself. You supposed one of the first times you realised what was happening to you wasn’t normal was in 8th grade. A girl had come into class after a couple days away, her eyes looked a little lifeless, dark circles and redness that indicated she had been crying, but none of the other 13 year olds seemed to notice this, but You did, because as she walked into the room a pit opened at the bottom of your stomach, seemingly making room for the dark horrific feeling of a sad pain mixed with guilt, fear, hopelessness and anger to enter, taking You’s breath away. As it turned out, the girl had lost her father. That was the first time you had known what grief felt like, and it certainly wasn’t the last.

You checked your phone for the time, seeing it was 5:45pm, you’d spent far more time in the police station than you had expected to, and it was time for you to call it a day. You mostly worked alone, the card you handed over simply stating your name, and a description of Emotional counselling/Advocate/Representative to try and encompass the range of things you did for people. In reality this was everything from working with somebody to calm their nerves before giving a large presentation to, what you did far more often, coaching people who were scared and traumatised giving statements and later testifying in court. You were also part of a company who provided advocates to those who were vulnerable in any legal proceedings or meetings with law enforcement, but often once you had worked with somebody, you handed them your personal card, as agencies tended to pay jack shit.

You had desperately wanted to find any way you could put this curse some would call a gift to use, to try and help people if you could. You had too much experience of not being able to help people, especially the ones you loved, which was still eagerly eating away at you.

Near the station was a coffee shop you’d been to a few times before or after similar trips, and as much as caffeine may not help the banging headache that you had building, in that moment you really didn’t care.

On your short walk to the shop, the fluttering of different feelings inside you that you’d grown used to continued. Somebody on the phone was clearly in love, a warmth spreading through you as you pushed past the woman smiling at whoever she was talking to. Another was stressed, walking with purpose and tension in his shoulders which had passed through to you for a moment. You shook your head, willing yourself to try to tune it out for the moment.

You reached the shop, and headed to join the queue of people also craving their caffeine fix.

You browsed the menu as you took shuffling steps as the line kept moving up, your eyes falling on a sweet caramel filled coffee, your heart tugging towards it. When you stepped up to the counter, however, you ordered a large black coffee. You had a guilty pleasure of sickly sweet coffee, however your life wasn’t so much about what you wanted anymore.

You took a large gulp of the bitter and hot liquid that scalded your throat slightly, but it was better than feeling the remnants of the acidic feeling of panic you’d felt there all afternoon.

Back at your one bedroomed, simple apartment You had chucked your coffee cup into the bin, your body now slightly electrified by the caffeine content, of which you were glad. You expected the night ahead of you may be a long one, and the more awake you were for it, the better.

Grabbing your laptop, you placed it on your rectangular coffee table, taking a seat on the somewhat battered hard leather couch. You then pulled the laptop onto your lap, pressing the power on button.

Once the light finally flickered on and the screen illuminated, you opened up a document you had, very cleverly you thought, entitled Mom’s recipes. Scrolling past the few simple recipes you’d stolen from the Food Network, you came to the page on which you were keeping the information you had gathered. You bit your lower lip as your eyes darted back and forth to scan the things you had previously written.

There was only just under a page of short sentences, but it was a better position than you had been in 6 months ago, so you would take it.

“Daniel - Previous chef at Le Frère Juste restaurant had been known to have fallen into the criminal network of Hell’s Kitchen, believed to be due to a substance abuse problem Mr.-”

You stopped reading that particular sentence, which was a quote from a police report you had obtained a couple months back through means that some would possibly frown upon, including the police that it came from, which meant that perhaps it wasn’t entirely legal. What you had been more interested in was the name attached to said report. One Officer Jenkins, who you had spent time trying to track down for more information, but was so far unsuccessful.

You weren't empty handed, however.

At the beginning was the hardest, not knowing where to look for information,how to recognise the snippets of clues that could lead to more. But once you had finally gotten one name, you’d tumbled into another, then another. you should’ve been more shocked to discover the dark, tangled web of criminal factions that underpinned Hell’s Kitchen, but having lived here since you were 6 years old, you’d already seen (and felt) much of the darkness that shrouded Hell’s Kitchen.

The names you had gathered were few, but you were hopeful one of them could provide you with information you needed. So far you had only approached one of the men on your list, who had been unable to give you any information about Daniel or what he was involved with before he had died. You had half expected that however, having picked what you presumed to be the weakest first, to test whether you would be capable of approaching them, if you could use your ability in the right way to cause them to fear you enough to hand over information. Information you may not have gotten, but the sight of the guy running away at full speed once you’d lightened your effect on him certainly improved your confidence in the matter.

You had attended some form of fighting sport since you were a teen on and off, completing a couple years of boxing, some karate, kickboxing also. You’d figured out that punching, kicking, generally throwing yourself at things in some way was a great method for releasing some of the intense emotions pent up inside you that spilled out from everyone else into you. However, you were not technically a fighter of any kind, so 6 months ago when you’d decided this was something you would have to do, for Daniel, you’d started taking self defence lessons, and then deciding you wanted something a little more on the offensive, you’d started one-on-one kickboxing. Of course, you hoped to be successful enough at using your ability against people, but you weren't stupid, and knew you were getting yourself into something dangerous, and thought it best not to rely on simply scaring gang members into not killing you.

Even with trembling hands, you thought, surely a gun shot would eventually be on target.

Tonight, however, you were hoping for a more successful night. you eyed the second name on your list, and the information you had gained on where this Alex Peters would be this evening by doing some, as some may say, light stalking of Alex a couple of nights earlier this week. you’d known his favourite bar hangout, and after frequenting there many times, you finally got lucky and spotted him at the start of the week, and now you knew he was going to be meeting with some others tonight in Hell’s Kitchen.

Planning on getting him alone, and asking him what he knew about Daniel, you slipped into your darker, more athletic clothing hoping to blend into the shadows. Once you had what you needed, including a small pen knife and mace on your keys, the only physical offensive weapons you had, the last thing you did before you left was pull up your dark hood over your head.

The air in Hell’s Kitchen was cool as an inky darkness had fallen over the sky, illuminated only by the light pollution spilling out of New York City. You sat crouched on a fire escape, one you’d had to wrestle with a pull-down ladder in order to get up on to. It provided you the perfect vantage point to watch what was happening below. You held a small digital camera in your hand, nothing special since you weren't exactly rolling in cash, however it took better quality pictures than your phone did. you weren't exactly sure why you were collecting photos of the criminal rings you had been tipped off to, or what you may use them for, but it made you feel like you were doing something.

Down below, you were watching 5 men interact. One of these was the guy who’s name you’d been given, with a possible connection to Daniel: That was Alex Peters, a relatively short man with a shaved head and tattoos littering his large, muscular arms and seeping on to his neck. Typically exactly what you’d expect from some sort of intimidating muscle man for a gang. Great, You thought, you weren't exactly looking forward to trying to get information from him.

The others seemed to be a mix of associates of Alex and another group. They were discussing something in tones too hushed for you to be able to make out what they were saying, but considering the fact they were a bunch of criminals attached to everything from drugs to murder, you’d hazard a guess that it wasn’t anything good.

They stood within a half decrepit building, either a warehouse or an old multstorey car park of which only metal bones remained, You weren't sure, but either way the damage, which was presumably a result of The Incident, made for a great hotspot for criminal activities, but also thankfully allowed you a great view from your vantage point.

Alex started to split from the rest of the pack, and your attention peaked, quickly placing away your camera into the small over shoulder bag you had, standing yourself up, a little, in preparation.

He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, shouting back to the others whilst he walked in the opposite direction to where they were headed towards a car trunk.

He shouted something incomprehensible, and you started to move. your footsteps light and you shimmied yourself back down the ladder you’d used to climb up in the first place. you could hear your own heart beating loudly in your ears, your chest thudding as you tried to control your breath before approaching this man. For somebody with the ability to manipulate somebody else’s emotions, you sure could struggle with your own sometimes.

You pulled your hood over your head even further, more as a comfort action than anything else. Alex had rounded the corner of a half broken down wall, You watching the light from his cigarette as you circled round in the shadows, crouching hidden behind a large metal waste bin as you ran over and over in your head what was about to happen. You would approach as quickly as possible, the minute he turned the opposite direction and then… Well you hoped that some muscle memory from your far too few kickboxing lessons and the somewhat unpredictable emotional manipulation powers would come into clutch in the moment.

In the distance, there was the loud sound of the other men, clattering of metal as they looked through their trunk and laughed together, but you couldn’t hear that. The world around had slipped away, a dull pressure building in your ears that made everything around your seem slightly slower, it built further as Alex Peters pulled his old phone from his pocket, his attention now turned away from your direction, and the fullness in your ears seemed to suddenly pop, and then everything was moving fast again; too fast.

In a swift movement, you stood to your feet, and gliding steps took you suddenly right to where Alex stood. He started to turn towards you, a breath of an almost word leaving his mouth as he instinctively raised his arm to push you away, but you stepped back, and threw your knee up quickly, your full body weight behind you as you jutted it into his stomach, winding him.

“What the F-” Alex’s breathless words came out quickly, but you couldn’t have him alerting the other men to your presence, because then you’d seriously be screwed, so you quickly reached your hand out to his shoulder, and let an intense jolt of fear out of yourself.

The man before you went rigid, confusion seeming to pass his face before a look of terror enveloped it. You had felt scared more than enough times in your life, and still carried enough of that around to pull it from yourself and throw it into him. So that’s what you did.

A continuous pressure of terror sent between two minds, and soon it was easy enough for you to grip him harder, bringing your other hand to his opposite shoulder, shoving him back against the brick wall.

“Alex Peters.” your voice came out more gruff than you’d ever normally hear yourself sound. It was laced with anger, and presumably adrenaline, but you had to keep it quiet. His stuck wide eyes darted back and forth between yours and the vice-like grip of your hands. He seemed to try to speak, but was unable to, so you continued. “I’m going to give you a name. And you are going to tell me what you know.”

He just looked at you, so you moved your hand to his throat, reaching deeper within yourself to channel more intense feelings into him. He opened his mouth to speak, but instead he gave a quick nod, a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead.

“Daniel, Daniel Johnson. Do you kno-” you couldn’t finish your sentence as your adrenaline fueled trance was suddenly broken by the clashing sound you heard from just past the wall. you whipped your head towards the sound. Your concentration was broken, your mind losing its grip on the channelling emotions for just a moment. But it was long enough for Alex Peters to regain some of his composure, clearly finding his voice enough to shout out, and push you backwards, causing you to stumble over your own legs.

Your eyes were back on him just in time to see his still shaking fist coming towards you, ringing in your ears a moment later as you were too late to fully avoid his hand connecting with the side of your temple. you doubled over for a moment, and suddenly the nerve endings in the front of your face exploded in pain, his knee having connected directly with your nose. you leant back against the metal you originally hid behind, the coolness aiding the heat burning through you. You mustered up the adrenaline to lift yourself up, going after him.

However, as your fingers were just grasping his jacket to pull him backwards, your eyes focused ahead and saw that the other men were now approaching. your fuzzy mind had only enough time to pull into focus one word; Shit.

All of a sudden, with the distant sound of a soft thud, there was another figure standing before you. In the dim light, it seemed like just a shadow of a man. But all of a sudden, one of the men was on the floor, and the others were now focused on a new target.

The new development didn’t keep your attention long though, with the others now running to throw punches at the shadow figure, you could turn back to Alex and throw your arms at him again.

You grabbed his forearm, and let your mind kick into action in a way that was becoming more practised, more perfected. you threw your body weight at him, stumbling you both back against the brick wall, Alex’s back thudding roughly against it at which he let out a small cry.

“Daniel Johnson, tell me.” Your voice was rushed, desperation sneaking through into your tone, your need for answers burning at your already gravelly throat. His eyes however were focused to his right, where over his shoulder, the other men he’d been with were either choosing to run or being beaten to the ground. His fabricated terror seemingly having found a new perpetrator in the shadow man. And he fought back against you, clearly desperate to join his fellow cowards in escape. You were pushed backwards once again, your smaller frame at your disadvantage, and for a moment your breath caught in your throat, the flash of dark metal catching your eye, the gun in Alex’s hand being lifted up towards you, but almost instantly, Alex disappeared from before you.

You could feel your shaky breaths coming back, faster than usual, the quickened beats of your heart in your ears at full volume again. The gun was gone from Alex’s hand when you looked back to him, and instead he was being hit swiftly around the head with it, knocking him sideways. you watched as the shadow of a man grabbed Alex by the neck, his other hand clasped into a fist, quickly connecting with the side of Alex’s temple. Once. Twice. A third hit, and Alex’s eyes had fallen closed, his body grew limp, and it fell to the floor as the man released his hold on his neck.

For a moment you just stood there, watching the back of the man clad all in black, your quick and shallow breaths seemingly mirroring his as his tight shoulders heaved up and down in steady rhythm. For a moment, he just stood there also. Still, unmoving.

Slowly, he turned around to face you. You weren’t sure how you were meant to feel, having seen this man just take out 5 or more men in the space of a couple minutes, standing alone in an alleyway with him, but the large amount of adrenaline was clearly still coursing through your veins because you didn’t take much notice to how you should feel.

What you did feel in that moment, though, was a deep seated rage. you hadn’t the functioning brain power in that moment to ponder whether that emotion was bubbling up inside of you or flooding out of the man before you.

You watched him as he seemed to consider you for a moment, his head twitched to the side, and you tried to study him also, but the majority of his face was covered by black cloth. You took a momentary glance over his all black attire, the thin material splayed across his thick torso severely lacking in protection. Before he had the chance to say anything, the thick and red hot rage was clawing at her throat to be verbalised.

“What the hell.” Your voice was gravelly, pitched low as you stood in some sort of standoff with this shadow of a man. You couldn’t see his facial expression, only the slight tick in his jaw as he slowly cocked his head in the other direction.

“Excuse me?” His voice was deep. It was rough and came from deep in his chest, which was still rising and falling in rapid respiration. You simply narrowed your eyes at him, reasonable thought and any sense of self preservation clearly out of the window with the adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

“I said, what the hell, man” You lifted a hand to your hair, roughly pushing away the wisps of it that had fallen in front of your face. “I was just about to- well, whatever, but you jump in here and ruin it.” Your voice was somewhat hectic.

With Alex Peters having run off, your chance of getting some more information about Daniel had gone with him, and at that moment, all of your negative feelings about that outcome were being filtered and thrown straight at the man before you. It seemed those feelings were mostly anger.

His lips seemed to press into an even more grim line, as he shook his head in a movement ever so slight, it may have been a subconscious reflex in his disagreement.

“If I hadn’t jumped in when I did then you’d most likely be dead right now.” He stated matter of factly, causing you to scoff.

“I can handle myself just fine, thank you.” Your hands rested upon your hips, trying to hide the way they still shook slightly from the man before you, an attempt to exude confidence, despite the way your heart rate was still racing.

“I’m not sure I would call having a gun pointed to your head, handling yourself, exactly.” Although his lips remained in a line, his voice still grim, it gained the slightest lilt of teasing to it, and flames of annoyance built up in your chest, escaping in the way of a groan of exasperation.

“I would have been perfectly fine, without you showing up and chasing away my- That guy.” Words flew from your mouth a little quicker than you could filter them, realising you probably shouldn’t be telling details of your plans to the stranger in front of you.

“Sure you would.” His voice and the feelings that flew off of him held no ounce of truth. “You need to be more careful, what are you doing out here trying to talk to these guys?” His head cocked to the side once against, an almost questioning taunt to his positioning.

His near chastising tone brought a laugh from your lips.

“What’s it to you?” You narrowed your eyes at him, taking a small step back from him, looking him up and down from clothed face down to a tough black boot, and it clicked for you where you'd seen this shadow man before. You drew in a sharp breath.

The Man in Black.

You’d seen the papers as you walked past the stands, you’d seen the news and heard local radio all talking about this Man in Black. A vigilante sort, who seemed to be travelling around Hell’s Kitchen and regularly beating the shit out of people.

“Well, I’m just trying to-” He started again, less gravel to his voice now he seemed to have calmed a bit, but you cut him off before he could impart his opinion on to you.

“Stop it. I know who you are” He stilled for a moment, taking you in as you purposely rolled your shoulders back, standing a little taller before him, still feeling those sparks of rage flickering. “The Man in Black” You added emphasis to his given title with the lilt of sarcasm in your voice clear.

“I don’t need to take advice from some vigilante, going around and spreading violence. You have no idea what I’m doing, who I am,” For some reason you hadn’t quite realised, a lot of vitriol was building into your voice as you addressed the man in black. Thinking of the many people you’d heard of him having fought. The people he’d hurt. How was he to know if the people he fought deserved it? What if it was somebody just caught up with the wrong people. Someone like Daniel. “You’ve screwed things up for me here tonight, I have a banging headache from being punched, and also knee-d actually, in the face, and now no information, so thank you very much, Man in Black, but I think this is where I’ll be bidding you goodnight.

His lips parted slightly, which was just visible to you under the dim glow of distant street lights down the alley. It looked like he was about to speak, but before he could you heaved your bag further up your shoulder, a wince as you jolted your head with your movement, and spun on your heel.

“You’re hurt…” His gruff voice trailed off, but you simply waved a hand in his direction, exhaustion suddenly pulling at your mind, and knowing vehemently that you did not need saving by some guy in a black mask.

You continued to retrace your steps towards the ladder that led you back to your vantage point and a way home, empty handed. However, the deep voice stopped you again whilst you were only a few metres away.

“Wait.” You tilted your head slightly back in his direction. “The name you said, Daniel Johnson was it-”

Anger shot through your veins, your voice coming out as more of a growl. “Don’t say that name” You simply said, watching as the man in black stood still, his lips still parted in question. But you simply turned and walked away, having had enough of the night.

Your legs dragged heavy beneath you, feeling like logs as you battled each step. Now the adrenaline was wearing off, every step felt more difficult, and exhaustion was truly trying to pull you under the whole way back to your flat.

As you walked down dark back alleys and hidden streets, you tried not to think about the fact that you’d had a gun pulled on you this evening, the cool metal of it still a phantom feeling against the skin of your head. Tried not to think about the fact that you could have died, and that for all of that, you still had no new information, thanks to the Man in Black.

A couple of blocks from the location of your night's altercation, you paused, a heavy stone in your chest as you lent your head back against the cold and rough brick of an alley wall. A couple of shaky breaths escaped you, and much to your dismay, now that you were alone, surrounded by nobody’s emotions but your own, a tear slid from between your lashes down and over your cheekbone. You shook your head, and pushed off the wall with a kick of your feet, desperate to get yourself home.

You pulled your jacket closer around your body, your hood still tight over your head, and walked quickly through the darkened and unsafe streets of Hell’s Kitchen at night, in the direction of your apartment. You kept your head down, trying your best to avoid any trouble. You didn’t think you had it in you for another fight of any kind this evening.

You weren’t aware, however, that were you to encounter one, the man in black would be right there with you.

#matt murdock #fan fiction #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x oc #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock fanfic #here goes nothing #sending this out into the ether

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sleepyone2three · 8 months

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This has been sitting in in my drafts for forever so I decided to finally finish it up! Thus, may I present:

How the demon bros would react if Lucifer had locked them away instead of Belphie

Can we talk about how lucky Lucifer was that it was Belphie he locked up and not one of his other brothers? Of all the sins, sloth is probably the best suited to being trapped in an attic. He can sleep the entire time and be giving into his vice at the same time. Meanwhile, if it had been any of the other brothers things could've been so much wilder! Just thinking about it has me rolling to be honest, so I decided I had to write this 😂

Mammon

Mammon would go stir crazy so fast. The only reason he hasn't completely lost his mind is the fact that Lucifer didn't bother to take Goldie away when locking him up. He has so many mental lists of the things he'll buy as soon as he's out.

Honestly, Mammon would probably whine a lot the entire time he was there too. He'd be bored out of his mind and unable to spend/get any Grimm. What kind of torture is this???

Lucifer honestly might get so annoyed with it that he'd resort to cursing Mammon so he can't talk. Ah... peace and quiet finally. This probably only leads to Lucifer feeling uneasy though since Mammon being quiet usually means he's thinking up new schemes or causing trouble.

You think Belphie got lucky with how trusting MC is? Mammon is probably one of the worst liars... ever. Mams is doomed, no way MC would be falling for any of his tricks.

This doesn't mean MC still wouldn't help though. They're horrible about sticking their nose in other people's business, even if it is well intentioned. So you know they're still going to get involved in all of this somehow.

I think Mammon would use MC to the point of getting out, but I can't see him planning to kill them. Lucifer already locked him away for being pissy about the exchange program, imagine what he'd do if Mammon killed Diavolo's precious exchange student *shudders*

Even if Mammon did hate humans, he's too soft to stick with that hate after getting to know MC. He'll probably try to rationalize that this one is an exception to the rule, his amazing influence being the reason of course.

The only plus side to all of this is that the witches and debt collectors can't find him.

Levi

Why did Lucifer lock him away in the first place? Dude is already a shut-in so he wasn't actually planning on doing anything. Maybe saying he would sick Lotan on Diavolo before allowing a normi human in their home was taking things too far though...

Honestly, as long as Lucifer at least left him with a gaming console and some anime, he'd probably be fine. Though, he would be very upset about not being able to keep up with the latest releases.

Levi would stress so much over if Mammon had sold his games and merch. The only way to stop him from spiraling with this would be if Lucifer promised to lock Levi's room with an equally powerful barrier.

Also freaks out that nobody will feed Henry 2.0 and his best friend will starve to death. Lucifer isn't totally heartless though, so he promises he will make sure Henry is well cared for until Levi has come to his senses.

Would probably plan to kill MC once out, but after talking about anime/games with them he isn't as sure anymore??? They seem to like the same stuff as him and don't call him gross... no! It must be some sort of ploy to gain his trust! This was just like in an anime he'd watched a while ago, Help! I've Been Locked Away By My Strict Older Brother And Now A Human Is Taking Over The Underworld! Ah, how life immitates art sometimes...

Satan

Oh geez, Satan would be furious if this happened. You think, he hated Lucifer before? Get ready for a whole new level.

Where does Lucifer get off, thinking he can get away with this!? Locking him away like this program isn't utterly delusional from the start anyway! If Satan didn't know better, he'd say that the elder brother had planned this from the beginning of even developing the exchange program. But that would require Lucifer to pull his head out of his own ass, so it's definitely not the case.

I mean... he'd have plenty of reading time at least? He's fuming to the point of having destroyed the entire room already, but he'll still be able to read plenty afterwards.

Lucifer tries to nudge Satan in a more positive direction of thinking, dropping off books that try to exemplify the beauty and potential of humanity. For the first time in his life, Satan refuses to even consider reading multiple books. Would possibly even consider destroying them in front of Lucifer, but I'm not sure he could actually go through with it.

Would 100% plan on and go through with killing MC once out. They'd have to really make an impression and connect with him if there's any chance to have things go otherwise. Even then, it's unlikely to stop this outcome. Consequences be damned, he will have the satisfaction of seeing how delicious Lucifer's expression will be upon seeing Diavolo's little pet project go up in flames.

Would take not getting to see his kitty friends pretty hard. He misses them and sometimes worries there isn't anyone else feeding/giving attention to them with him gone. If MC really wants to get in good with Satan, offering to check in on the feline population of the Devildom might be a solid starting point.

Satan does have to admit though, MC is an interesting human if nothing else. Unafraid to go against Lucifer's orders? Likes reading as much as him? Snuck a cat in to see him??? M-maybe they aren't the worst...

Asmo

I'm pretty sure his online following would form a search party if this happened. Radio silence from Asmo's accounts is unheard of and Lucifer better have an official statement about Asmo being in the exchange program if he doesn't want hordes of lesser demons showing up outside of the House of Lamentation.

Asmo's never really had to "rough it" and living without all his beauty products within reach is going to make him even angrier at Lucifer. This only gets worse the longer he's kept there, every flaking skin cell fueling his rage.

Gets a single zit and somehow finds a way to blame it on a human being in the house. Dramatic sniffles and crying commences as he's trying to sway Lucifer with his theory, though the elder seems less than convinced.

Would probably consider agreeing to the program once he's been without his products long enough, but is also called out on lying by Lucifer.

Baby boy would just be all smug and waiting for Solomon to try summoning him, thinking there'd be no stopping him from leaving at that point. Too bad Lucifer took this into consideration. Solomon is now mildly concerned and very curious what the heck this exchange program actually entails of the participants that could null the effects of a pact. Asmo's just whining about how cruel and unreasonable Lucifer is to do such a thing. And would you look at that? Lucifer's headache just got worse.

MC won't have to do much to begin swaying Asmo if we're being honest. This is especially so if he's feeling like he's become less attractive due to not being able to keep up his hourly daily self care routines and regimens for so long. Just sitting down and treating him like he's worthwhile even when he's "an abomination," will go a long way. Sneaking him some decadent lotion or products he mentioned offhandedly will seal the deal though.

They cared enough to actually listen when he looks like this? Even though they're not affected by his powers?? Maybe he was a little quick to shun the idea of the program... at the very least, they could make an adorable new plaything! Just thinking about all the makeovers and sleepovers had him feeling a little excited!

Beel

He ate his way out.

I don't know what else to say, even Lucifer isn't powerful enough to stop such an appetite. Besides that, no demon in their right mind at RAD would be down with their star Fangol leaving for an exchange program!

But in all seriousness, Beel is a simple demon with simple pleasures. MC just needs to bring him some food and show him that they aren't a monster who's out to hurt his family. Man just doesn't want to lose anymore family and was a lil hangry is all. Lucifer's the one who overreacted to the whole display.

On the plus side, the House of Lamentations food budget actually managed to build up a decent reserve while Beel was locked away. So you can be sure there's going to be the most amazing and decadent feast anyone has ever seen once he's out.

Belphi

Just glad it's not him I suppose 😂

Though he may actually be low-key jealous that it's not him. Just thinking of how much he could sleep without being woken up has him rethinking his stance on the exchange program.

But MC is so sweet and makes a good cuddle buddy/pillow for his naps, so he can't be too upset.

#obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me asmodeus #obey me mammon #obey me belphegor #obey me Leviathan #obey me Satan #obey me Lucifer #obey me Solomon #obey me MC #obey me headcannons #obey me imagine #my writing

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gliphyartfan · 6 months

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@yanderelinkeduniverse @stars-for-thought @imprisioned-in-the-hole @screaming-until-god-hears-me @crestfallenmermaidan @ice-cream-writes-stuff @linked-heroes @eternadreeblissa @justanerd1

Hey! Hi! Hello! How's the weather?

Oh look! I seem to have dropped a part of dear old Warrior's rewrite! What's this? A part two? To think, such a thing was rattling in my drafts!

I had no idea!

...

....

......😀

....Anyways-

The scent of the Great Sea was unique compared to any oceans Warriors passed through.

In the past or in the present.

Such a scent was like any other when visiting the sea. Yet there was a certain level of 'Other' that the Captain tended to notice when near anything connected to that era.

A scent that tended to follow the Hero of the Great Seas in the same way the scent of steel and blood followed Warriors through battle.

So it wasn't hard to catch such a scent through the smoke, steel, and fire as he raced through the Forsaken Fortress.

It didn't take long before Warriors spotted him, no surprise given that the trail of felled monsters left in his wake.

The boy didn't look in his direction, focusing on cutting down the last crowd of monster within the vicinity.

"Hero of Winds." He spoke calmly, his voice echoing across the now empty space between them.

Even from the distance he stood, he could see the way the Sailor's shoulders tensed at the sound of his voice, though quickly recovering.

"Hero of Warriors," The Sea Hero quietly said in reply, turning to greet him as he approached.

It was odd to Warriors, seeing the brightness of the usually cheerful boy so muted, to see his eyes so dimmed and cold. To see his tunic weathered, torn and stained.

But it was no surprise really, give all that they've been burdened with up to this point.

As Warrior watched his sword brother approach as well, he couldn't help a small smile that tugged on his lips. It wasn't a lie when he said he missed him.

He missed all of them, but reuniting with even just one of them was blissful in its own right.

It was only once he was within reach of the Sea Hero did they both stop. Eyeing one another calmly, intently.

Warriors could feel a sense of tension in the air, a weight that seemed to hang over them.

The Sea Hero was the first to break the silence, looking away, his voice low and guarded. "We can speak more later, there is still Gohma to deal with-"

"I killed it. I wonder why it was still alive though, given that we both know you have the strength to kill both it and Helmroc King before I ever showed up," he replied, his voice steady. "You just wanted to see if I would show up like last time."

The Sea Hero inhaled sharply, his head snapping back to him, wide eyes quickly fixating on Warriors.

Warriors could see a storm within his eyes, a hunger that came with the desire for truth. The danger that came should that hunger not be sated.

A look he was sure he himself had many times through this war. Before reuniting with Fi.

"It's been a while...Wind." He reached up and place a hand on the sailor's trembling shoulder. "I didn't expect you to actually leave such an simple enemy alive for as long you have." He smirked softly.

"Losing your touch?"

"...In another life such a 'simple enemy' would have caused both of us severe trouble," he said, his voice low and filled with emotion. "I just wanted to see how you handled it." He smirked, but it was wobbly. "To make up for lost time."

"In annoying me?" He joked. Wind huffed a laugh before bowing his head and clearing his throat.

Warriors nodded, looking away, up at the sky. "I understand what you mean though. I've been wanting to see everyone too." He said quietly.

"It's been so long since we last saw each other."

His gaze snapped down to the younger, smiling while taking a slow step forwards. "I missed you dearly Wind."

They stood in silence for some minutes, simply staring into each others eyes. Neither daring to move further away.

They had been apart for only a few years, for Wind at least, it was luck that Warriors didn't have to suffer long without the knowledge of the others.

He did not envy his pain, nor the pain the others must be suffering right now. All alone without the assurance that Warriors, and now Wind, shared.

That his sword brother remembered everything, just as he did.

In a way, it wasn't something either of them could truly process, not until a moment passed.

In an instant, they pulled each other in a tight embrace.

Neither cared that their hair was coated with soot and monster blood, or their skin had been torn, scraped and burnt as they fought the countless enemies across the battlefield.

In this moment, they were reunited.

"It has been...far too long," Warrior sighed after pulling away a bit, only to rest his forehead against Wind's, looking deeply into those brightening eyes. "How have you been my brother? What has changed for you? Have you met with any of the troops?"

Wind shook his head. "When my era connected to yours, I immediately came here when I saw your troops." he answered, before grinning a bit. "I mean, as you said, I can handle these brutes just fine. So waiting here wasn't much trouble."

His face gained a slightly mischievous look. "Well...it wasn't much trouble for me..."

Warrior snorted. "Of course not, you're a Hero of Courage, what hero doesn't enjoy senseless battle from time to time?" Wind laughed lightly at that, sounding brighter as the conversation continued.

"Well, it seems our Goddess wanted us together again," Warrior grinned, giving the shorter boy an affectionate squeeze. "Though I suppose you'll head home after all this is over, so this reunion is only brief." he sighed.

He knew Wind was aware that he would be forced to wait in the past after the war ended. But it didn't change the fact that it was a cruel punishment.

But at the same time, they both knew it was necessary.

Wind gave him a sad smile. "It would seem so, yes," his face fell, but then he smiled brightly again. "But...for now, we're together again, even if for a little while."

"For a while," Warrior agreed. A smile spreading across his face as he felt a part of him settle peacefully.

Reuniting with Fi made this war far more bearable then he had expected.

But reuniting with Wind, his sword brother, one of the few he trusts with his true self.

That brought a sense of peace that only reuniting with their Goddess could eclipse.

"You know, I noticed certain people still alive that I was sure wouldn't have lived this long" Wind mentioned after they pulled away.

"Mind answering why?" Warriors hummed at that and crossed his arms.

"Well...the official answer is simply that they are my fellow soldiers and it is my duty to protect them." He answered solidly.

Wind raised an eyebrow at that response, "...and the real answer?"

Warriors tilted his head and looked at the sailor directly in the eye.

Wind could see a coldness seep in that only comes when speaking of those who have committed offenses against their beloved.

The unquenchable desire to eliminate all who had offended Her. Regardless of whether they recalled their crimes of another time period or not.

What a familiar and comforting sight it was to the sailor.

"Because what better way to bond with my brothers than working together to eliminate those offenders?"

Wind's smile held amusement, his eyes held anticipation and approval.

"You really waited up for us, didn't you." Warriors shrugged at that with a grin.

"Wanted to see if you specifically kept your skills sharp."

"Sharper than yours!" Wind retorted reflexively.

Warriors threw his head back and laughed freely.

Despite the separation, it was seamless the way they interacted again, as if no time passed at all.

Yes, he had missed this dearly.

#linked universe #yandere linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu #loz #lu wind #lu warriors #ttau rewrite #rewrite #part 2 #part 3 coming when I finish the other rewrite #three guesses who's up next

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smrsxx · 1 year

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Cool Girl | Erling Haaland x shy&short!reader\Jack Grealish's sister

Summary : The reader is the youngest sister of football player Jack Grealish . She decided to surprise her brother by going to watch his match and meets her celebrity crush - the behemoth himself - Erling Braut Haaland .

Tw : shyness , annoying big brother , mentions of sexual assault , fighting but in general fluff .

Thanks everyone for requesting this but mainly my best friend , because I wanted to write something for Erling x shy&short!reader - and because this had been sitting in my drafts for a really long time - . And thank you to that one anon who had the idea , for the reader to be Jack Grealish's sister .

Ps . I WANT TO THANK YOU ALL FOR THE UNDYING SUPPORT YOU'VE GIVEN ME THIS PAST COUPLE DAYS . I REALLY APPRECIATE IT . < 3

English isn't my first language , so if you spot any mistakes , just bare with me .

12.488 words : |

Hope you enjoy ; )

______________________________________________________________

Reader's Pov

" What is it this time ? " I heard Jack asking me through the phone .

" I know and I'm sorry for disturbing you , but I really need you to tell me which way you take to go to the stadium . " I asked him trying keep this as a surprise .

I've decided to surprise Jack since I haven't seen him since September back at home for his birthday . It's been nearly 8 months and I kinda miss him . Studying Psychology in Rome wasn't easy and I really had the need to go and see my brother . I even missed him annoying me all the time .

" Why do you need to know how to come the stadium ? You're in Rome . Wait - Are you home right now ? Have you eaten breakfast ? " He asked me once again .

I've had enough .

" Yes I'm home and yes I have eaten breakfast . " I lied to him knowing full damn well that I'm sitting in his couch at his apartment eating his favourite chips .

" Fine I'm just gonna go by myself you're stupid anyways . " I said quietly trying to irritate him .

" What did you just said to me you little shit ? " He screamed at me while laughing .

" I got to go now . Talk to you later . Bye . " I said to him and hung up .

" He is going to get so mad knowing that I eat his last bag of favourite chips . " I said to myself while sitting up to get ready .

_____

" I don't even know what to do right now . " I say to myself .

How did I got lost ?

I swear to God I followed the roads that the Google Maps app was telling me .

I need to ask someone for help , but at the same time I don't want to .

" Overstep your fears Y/N . That's what Jack would do . " I say to myself once again .

I go to a nearby coffee shop and I enter it to ask the cashier for some directions .

" Hello . What can I get for you today ? " The cashier asked me with a warm smile .

" Hi . I um wanted to ask for help - I mean for some - I just want directions of how to get to the Manchester City stadium . " I said while cursing myself .

" Oh you mean the Etihad Stadium ? The Sky's Blue's home ? Yeah it's just down this road . " He said to me and turned around to continue with his work .

I feel so stupid . Its was literally right in front of me .

I say a little thank you and step out of the coffe shop heading for the stadium .

_____

I enter the stadium with my VIP pass and head straight to the training area .

I came across eleven people in teams passing each other a ball and laughing with each other .

Where is my brother ?

" Pass the ball you idiot . " I heard him screaming .

Ahh - there he is .

" Y/N is that you ? " I heard someone calling my name .

I turned around to a Pep Guardiola looking down at me with a bright smile . " I'm the coach of the team . We've heard a lot about you . Jack really can't keep his mouth shut . "

" Jack some say Hi to your sister . " He scream and the whole team turned to our direction .

" AHHHHHH WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE ? " Jack screamed like a little boy while running to me .

Great .

Everyone is looking at me .

Jack crushed my thoughts embarrassing me in his tight hug .

" Stoooooop everybody is looking . " I said to him while hugging him back .

" I missed you big idiot . " I said to him and he grabbed my hand .

" Come with me to meet with the others . " He said with a smile , but I quickly decided against it by saying a small " What . No . "

" You are a little , short , cute shy angel do you know - " He said to me but before he could complete his sentence he came running towards us .

Erling Braut Haaland . . .

Erling Haaland . . .

Erling Haaland was coming at our direction .

I quickly hide behind my brothers back grabbing his shirt .

Jack stiffened by my sudden move , but his muscle memory stepped into the game and he pushed me further back with a few steps .

" Wow . Is everything ok ? Did I do something wrong ? " The behemoth of a man asked with a hint of worry in his voice as he saw the girl hiding behind her brothers back .

Y/N was so panicked that she couldn't understand how worried Erling was .

" Everything is okay man , it's just that Y/N is shy and you know she has a little crush on you since - " Jack said but before he could mustered anything else he let out a quiet whimper as you pinched him .

" Oh well . . . " Erling couldn't even say a word after what Jack just told him .

Jack had a lot of pictures with Y/N in his phone and always showed them to the rest of the team and Erling couldn't help but form a secret crush on the girl .

Jack finally decided to ease the situation by leading you both on the locker room .

" I - we gotta go man . See you later . " He said to Erling before he stormed away with you .

_____

" I can't believe that you told him that he is my crush . What kind of brother are you ? " I asked my brother back in his apartment .

" Well I can't believe you ate my last back of chips . What kind of sister are you ? " He asked back .

" Are you kidding me right now ? " I snapped back at him getting ready for a fight and he just . . . laughed at me .

" Why are you laughing ? This isn't funny at all . " I said to him being serious .

" Why are you so shy with the team ? Everybody knows about you and they've always wanted to meet you . I'm telling them good things about you . " He said and I looked at him with pure anger in my eyes .

And he just kept laughing at me .

I got up from the couch heading to the kitchen to try and talk some sense into him .

" What are you going to do ? Hit me ? You can't even reach my shoulder . " He said to me while laughing .

I quickly punch him in the arm and he let out a grant .

" Why did you do that ? " He asked while grabbing his arm .

" What are you gonna do huh ? Tell mom and dad while you always did when we were kids ? " I snapped back at him feeling proud of myself .

" All I'm telling you is that you don't have a reason to be shy with everyone . That's why your coming with me at the after match party in Friday . "

" What ? " I asked him while he was laughing at me and running away.

" Come back here . I need an explanation . " I screamed at him following him in the house .

After a while we were both laying in the living room's floor looking at the sealing .

" You really don't have to be so shy . Look all I'm trying to say is that you are a wonderful and amazing person and you have nothing to be worried about . " Jack said to me trying to convince me to go with him at the party .

" I know that you want what's best for and I love you for that , but you are gonna be celebrating with your teammates , because I know you'll win , you have good players . " I say thinking about a certain big , tall male with blue eyes .

" Stop thinking about Erling . " He said now staring at me .

" What matters is that you'll leave me alone at the party and I'll be standing in the corner of the entrance by myself and people are gonna think that I'm some type of host . " I say to him remembering him what happened at the last party I wnt with him .

" I swear to God I will be with you . I won't leave you alone . I swear . " Jack promised me .

_____

It is Friday night .

I am standing in the corner besides the club's main entrance .

All by myself .

I do not even know were Jack is .

He promised that he would be with me the whole night .

I checked the time in my phone .

We've arrived here five minutes ago and he must be already drunk , sitting in a big table with his friends laughing about stupid things .

" Hey you . Such a fine little thing and you're all alone . Whys that ? " A man asked me sliding his hand in my waist and trapping in the wall .

No , no , no , no , no . . .

A drunk man .

A stranger who wants to get laid .

The ones who are looking for a one night stand .

" I am not interested . Just let me go . " I said to him trying to push him away , but he didn't even moved .

I tried pushing him harder with all my strength , but nothing happened .

These are type of men that do not understand the meaning of the word No .

Suddenly he was being pulled away from me .

Erling had just grabbed him by the back of his shirt .

" She said she wasn't interested and you didn't let her go . " Erling said while looking angrily at the man .

" Do I need to make you go with the easy way or the hard way ? " Erling ironically asked the man , knowing that what ever answer he is gonna get , he is still gonna kill the man .

" Yo man I didn't do anything . " The man said and before he could protest Erling was pushing you out of the club .

" Are you okay ? " He asked while placing his palm on your shoulder .

" Yes . Thank you so much . I don't even want to imagine what would happen if you weren't there . " You answered kindly .

Trying to make you feel more comfortable , Erling suggested that you could walk in the area , since you are both alone and staying at the club was pointless .

" So you have a little crush on me ? " Erling asked making freeze immediately .

Despite your shyness , you took a deep breath and answerd to him .

" Well yeah . Kinda . I mean yes I do have a crush on you . " You said to him and looked down at the pavement trying to avoid his gaze .

" That's good because I have a crush on you too . "

" What ? Since when ? " You asked him while looking up at him shocked .

Wow . . . he really is tall . Taller than you thought .

" Since Jack started showing some pictures and videos with you both. And I find you really cute . " He said smiling .

" You are scary . " You said quietly hoping that he wouldn't have heard you .

" Really ? Why ? Did I scared you the other time ? I swear I didn't do it on purpose . "

" I'm so sorry , I didn't mean it that way , it's just that you are like really tall , like really taller that most of the whole population of the planet , and your kinda big - " I said to him trying to save the situation until he reached forward and crashed his lips into mine .

I immediately kissed him back , and standed on my tippy toes trying to help with the size difference , but he still was much taller that me .

After a few seconds he broke the kiss .

" I really want to kiss you again , but - " I interrupted him by stepping up on the stairs of a house so I could be at least a little higher so that I could kiss him .

I grabbed him be his neck and crashed my lips on his again .

_____

I was in the stadium to watch another football game .

Sitting in the VIP section was one of the best things . One , you have a great view of the whole stadium , second there are not a lot of cameras near so it's much more comfortable and third , I and Erling can keep kissing without being afraid that the fans are gonna see us .

" When are you going back ? "

" In one week . "

" We can make this work . "

We said to each other while kissing .

" Yes , we can make this work . " I said to him smiling and then kissed him again .

After a couple of seconds our tongues and lips parted to catch our breaths before kissing again .

_____

" I didn't know that Y/N and Erling are together . When did this happened ? " Phil Foden asked Jack while preparing for the game .

" What do you mean ? " Jack asked back confused .

" Yeah , look they're over there kissing . " Phil said while Jack was in utterly disbelief .

His little shy sister was kissing with that behemoth of a man .

" OI GET YOUR TONGUE OUT OF MY SISTERS MOUTH ! " Jack screamed while running towards you .

" I messed up again . Phil said running behind Jack .

_____

@unimportantbabymilksharkte

@sora-777-romanoff

#football imagine #football fanfic #football x reader #football x you #erling haaland imagine #erling haaland fanfic #erling haaland x reader #erling haaland x you

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