Tumgik
#custom joy con
retrogamingblog2 · 1 year
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Steampunk Nintendo Consoles made by IgnisFatuus
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dig-the-doodad · 11 months
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I just finished a new set of earrings for my Etsy shop!
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These custom video game earrings are modeled after Nintendo Switch Joycons!
They were a delight to make, and the material shrunk really well!
My second ever order from my shop, I'm really excited to have new projects to make!
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yandere-daydreams · 7 months
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Title: Coveted.
Pairing: Yandere!Geto x Reader (+Yandere!Gojo) [JJK].
Word Count: 1.1k.
TW: Set Two or Three Years Post KFC Break-Up, Intimidation, Prolonged Stalking, Future Dub/Con, Mentions of Non/Con, and Unbalanced Power Dynamics.
[Part Two]
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“You’re Satoru’s date, right?”
The voice was masculine, deep and as rough as it could be without crossing the line into gravelly. You stiffened, squaring your shoulders and burrowing your nails into your palm as your eyes darted across the table – where a man with dark hair and an off-putting smile was currently sliding into the unoccupied side of your booth. He reached out, clearly planning to shake your hand, but when you failed to move, he only let out an airy chuckle, propping his chin on his fist as he went on. “I’m a friend of his – Geto Suguru. You can call me Suguru-chan, though. Has he already told you about me?”
He was dressed like he’d just rolled out of bed – his attire limited to a form-fitting black shirt and a pair of loose sweatpants in the same color, his hair pulled into a loose bun. His tone was friendly, light. You returned it with a dead-pan stare, hoping it conveyed the weight of your exhaustion. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Is that what he told you to say?” Another laugh, somehow more blood-chilling than the first. Your attention shifted outward, to the late-night diner where Gojo had asked you to meet him. There were only a few other customers, the skeleton of a proper staff, but single other person would’ve been one too many. You didn’t need to make a scene, not again, not after last time. “That sounds like him. He’s always been a stingy bastard.”
With a pressed frown, you pushed yourself to your feet, but Geto’s grin only broadened. He snapped his fingers and as if it’d only been waiting for a queue, a shape manifested at the end of your bench. You couldn’t bring yourself to look directly at it, but you saw enough out of the corner of your eye; a bulbous torso, shrunken arms, too many eyes to resemble any living thing. Instantly, what little courage you still had was replaced with a knot of dread, a bolt of pure anxiety. You half-expected it to lunge, to bite, to attack, but it didn’t move, only standing guard at the foot of your table.
It didn’t move, but it didn’t have to. In a moment, you’d fallen back into your seat and shoved yourself against the wall, fighting not to shake. It was a sight Geto seemed to take a particular joy in, letting his head lull to the side as he watched you curl into yourself. “You can see them. I was starting to think I had the wrong person.” A pause, a glance towards his summoned monster before his narrowed gaze skirted back to you. “Don’t be shy, now. How much did he tell you?”
It took you a moment to find your tongue, another to swallow back the tremor in your voice. "He said he could protect me.” It was harder to admit than you’d expected – not so much that you needed protection, but that there was something you needed protection from. You’d spent so long writing off your monsters as hallucinations that it was still a struggle to act like they were anything more. But, for as unwilling as you were to confront your little monsters, the resounding ache in your right leg where that thing had dug its claws into you was impossible to ignore. “He… he didn’t mention anyone else, but we’ve only spoken once. He was supposed to explain—” You gestured to the monster. “—all of this today.”
A slight hum, a look of genuine surprise. “So, he’s got some self-restraint after all! I thought he would’ve cracked months ago, considering how long he’s been following you around like a lost puppy.” He must’ve seen your expression fall, your posture slacken, because he didn’t wait for a response before going on. “I mean, you must’ve known that, at least. Did you think he’d play knight-in-shining-armor for just anyone?”
“I…” You trailed off quickly, shaking your head. “I don’t care. As long as he can protect me, I don’t care why he’s doing it.”
“That’s a dangerous thing to say. You wouldn’t want to make Satoru feel so replaceable, now, would you?”  
At that, you met his stare. “What do you want?”
His eyes skirted towards the monster, who took an obedient step back. For a second, you considered running, trying to slip away before the man in front of you or your newly-realized stalker could make you regret ever showing up at all, but Geto was quick to cut off your escape route, filling the empty space beside you before you could so much as pick which door you would barrel through on the way out. “Well, now that we’re on the same page,” Unlike his monster, he didn’t give you the option of leaving him in your peripheral; settling close enough for his leg to press into yours. At this proximity, you could pick up the smoke on his breath, the scent of stale gore clinging to him like a second skin. As if he’d just stepped out of a blood bath. “I’d like to make you an alternative offer.”
“You’d protect me?”
“Oh, I’d do more than just that.” His hand fell to your thigh. “I’d have everything you’ve ever been afraid of bowing to you by the end of the night.”
You swallowed dryly. “You didn’t answer my first question. What do you get out of helping me?”
His answer was nonverbal, but clear enough. With that same idle grin, he nodded toward the streaked window, to the building across the street. Your heart fell into your stomach. It was one of those sleazy, by-the-hour hotels – the sign missing more than a few letters and the parking lot as empty as the diner. It was the kind of place that you only went to for one thing, and you had a feeling Geto hadn’t found some miraculous second reason to want to be alone with you in one of those bug-infested rooms.
You weren’t sure why you said it. Maybe to buy yourself time. Maybe because you couldn’t stand the idea of being left in silence as what was left of your rational mind screamed at you to get out of there. “I don’t have any money.”
“It’ll be my treat.”
“What happens I refuse?”
“I kill everyone here,” His nails bit into exposed skin. “And then fuck you on this table while their bodies attract flies.”
You might’ve cried, if you hadn’t been so tired.
You might’ve done anything, if you could bring yourself to care about anything but keeping those awful creatures at a distance.
Stiffly, with your eyes shut and your teeth grit, you forced yourself to nod. Geto rewarded you with an impossibly wide grin, a breath of a laugh. “Smart little thing.”
This time, he didn’t pretend it was an option; reaching out, taking your trembling hand in his own, and squeezing so softly, you could almost convince yourself he was being gentle.
“It’s only a shame Satoru isn’t here to join us.”
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jymwahuwu · 2 months
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Um…how about Sunday with virginity reader? 😌🫣💖
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cw: yandere, manipulation, gaslighting, orgasm control, non-con, corruption kink, some inappropriate views on virginity
Sunday has been carefully protecting you… from the contamination of the mortal world. As an adult, you followed a friend's introduction and joined The Family. After several religious gatherings, including praising Aeon Xipe, singing songs, and confessing your hearts and past stories, Mr. Sunday noticed you. You are so…pure, innocent, and need to be protected.
He invites you to those parties and singing. No matter what your singing ability is, praise your sincere heart on Sunday. The Lord Xipe needs believers like you. He showed you how much he appreciated you…and you were so flattered. Sunday is the leader of Oak Family and attracts much attention. And you are just a little believer…how could he notice you?
He emphasized that the Family is such a selfless organization and there will be no difference in status. It's not hard to get your information. After spending some time together and drinking SoulGlad, you sheepishly admit that you have never had any sexual experience. Never…never. So you are still a virgin. His smile widened a little as he listened to your admission to him. He said that you need to keep your purity uncontaminated so that the notes you sing are free from noise. (Even though you've heard, The Family has no limits when it comes to sex…)
So, you cannot have any spouse. Nor can you surrender to filth just because of the pleasure of temporary joy. But of course, Sunday is the exception! He has the responsibility to supervise and protect you. That gloved touch on your private parts and. Your nipples and butt must be checked regularly. Lift up your clothes. Let his hands gently squeeze and rub your breasts. See, you're sensitive. If you reach orgasm so quickly, it means you are not resistant to sex and need more testing and training.
He ordered a chastity belt for you. do not worry. That was customized with technology. There is usually no pain or side effects unless you are so eager to be penetrated that it hurts. That will be your own problem. No insertion…at least not for the first few months. After you resist orgasm, Sunday will hug you and compliment you on how well you did. You maintain your virginity while training your ability to withstand adversity and temptation. Of course, if you convulse and moan during orgasm, there will be a round of punishment. This is the rule.
Also love drama - so think about how he would react if you lost your virginity and Sunday wasn't the one to take it. This message may be found in a broken virginity lock, or some sign. You start avoiding him and use the device to giggle and chat with others, or stay up all night. Once this happens, Sunday will stare at you for more than a few minutes. He's not going to be brutally violent or anything like that.
"Who is that?" Sunday asked calmly. And you answer a name in harmonious tones. He chewed the name calmly and repeatedly, like chewing up some bitter food. Sunday will express disappointment in your disobedience and resistance. Didn't he already emphasize that you can't look for any partner?
The Family has accepted you. Why would you want to find another place of hypocrisy? You will be locked up in a particularly luxurious room, and The Family will fulfill any reasonable request you want, but you will be forced to listen to music with Xipe's blessing for a long time in order to forget those unimportant people and things. If you behave yourself, you won't be on his knee that day receiving those daily slaps. And Sunday will keep penetrating you at least once a day. Since you totally don't care about his lead and are desperate for sex <3
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calliopefiction · 11 months
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Misplaced
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Misplaced is a fantasy romance interactive fiction WIP, wherein your choices not only determine your own fate, but that of an entire kingdom. Let me take you an adventure filled with both whimsy and tragedy alike.
The current public demo goes up to the end of Chapter 6, available here: https://calliopefiction.itch.io/misplaced
The demo on patreon goes up to the end of Chapter 7: https://www.patreon.com/CalliopeFiction
The Story:
For decades, the human kingdom of Gaiapeia has been fighting against the fae living in the surrounding lands. How this conflict started depends entirely on who you ask.
You are the child of Lady and Sir Grahm, a noble familiy who has been serving the crown for generations. Eager to follow in your father's footsteps, you have been training for years to become a knight worthy of being Prince Az'Lean's Champion - his right hand, his closest confidant, the one who protects his life from the growing danger of the fae.
When the time finally comes and you are chosen for the position, it's a dream come true. You couldn't be happier. But just one day later, on your 21st birthday, a terrible truth is revealed to you.
You are a changeling - a fae child that was smuggled into a human family with only one purpose: to gain the prince's trust and use it against him.
A war between humans and fae is surely brewing and the outcome depends entirely on you.
Features:
Customize the appearance of your MC, play as non-binary, female, or male and romance whoever you like however you like, including the choice for asexual or queer-platonic relationships.
Enjoy the story without having to worry about stats - you will be a competent knight no matter what. There is no failure or success, only different choices and their outcomes.
Shape your personality, and your trustworthiness, with your actions. Other characters' disposition to you will change depending on how they perceive you.
Pick a side early on, play the long con, or refuse to make a choice at all. There are multiple split paths that will feature the same romancable characters - but their relationship to you might vary greatly (including villain romances).
Romance:
Vynn (nb):
Vynn is one of your fellow knights and a long-time friend. Unlike you, they aren't a knight by choice and don't care much for fighting. You get the feeling they'd much rather be a bard if they could, seeing as they love playing the lute, spinning epic tales and generally being a source of levity. They are fiercely loyal and good-natured, though there is that bit of resentment that will never quite leave their heart.
Prince Az'Lean (m):
Az'Lean is your prince, the one you are sworn to protect. At a glance, he is the very picture of a fairytale prince: charming, chivalrous, and powerful. He is an excellent fighter, loves animals, and prefers to be treated like an equal. Anyone who cares to look will soon notice the darkness lurking beneath that shining exterior, festering ever since the death of his mother.
Lady Meave (f):
Maeve is a powerful dryad who was sent to educate you on the ways of the fae. She is usually playful and soft, but can get eerily intense at times. As much as she cares about decorum and courtly things, she finds joy in the simplest things and easily turns into a giggly mess. For all her humour, you can never quite tell if she is being serious. Sometimes it feels like she's just playing with you.
Thianne (f):
Thianne is a sorceress and one of Az'Lean's most trusted advisors. She is intelligent and hard-working, though sometimes at the expense of her own well-being. Although she comes across as abrasive and rude, she is always willing to help those who need it. Her dry sense of humour and brutal honesty have endeared her to just as many people as they have made her enemies.
Lester (m):
Lester is a half-fae servant, working in the castle. As with most half-fae, his presence isn't entirely welcome and his reasons for being here seem complexer than he lets on. Lester is known for his mischief and his crude humour, often pulling pranks that border on malicious. Despite the way he presents himself as laid-back and uncaring, it's clear that there's a lot he isn't opening up about.
Warnings:
This story contains potentially triggering content. There will be graphic depictions of violence, death, discrimination, body-image issues and mental illness (including panic attacks, suicidal thoughts and paranoia). Discretion is advised.
Support:
Thank you so much for showing any interest in this project at all! If you would like to receive biweekly update posts, participate in polls, and get access to bonus short stories, consider supporting me on patreon: https://www.patreon.com/CalliopeFiction
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smuthospital · 7 months
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⭐️Pirate! Tomura x reader⭐️
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Premise: A certain pirate really thinks you're pretty
Warning: NON CON, kidnapping, gn reader
MINORS DNI
"Now for the sponge cake!" You crack an egg and separate the yolks from the whites in two seperate bowls. You're making strawberry shortcake! You stop in your tracks when the sharp smell of smoke leaks into your airways. You drop everything you're doing and run to the bread oven. Your bread almost burned! Momo would kill you! You work at her little bakery and this bread was requested by a frequent customer. You sigh as you place the bread on a cooling rack and put out the fire in the hearth.
You live in a beautiful little port town by and it's what you call home. It's right by the sea so most men in town work at the docs, work at sea or sell goods. You just work in a little bakery. It's moderately popular. Everyone adores the pretty little bakery girl. You have countless old women asking you to marry their grandsons and countless men trying to pry into your life to win themselves a pretty wife to cook for them. You deny all marriage proposals because you're waiting for your true love to sweep you off your feet. And although your sweet little sea side town is everything to you, you hope to one day leave and explore the world. Your friends and family would be fine. You'd come back and show them all the nice things aquired on your travels.
You smell smoke again. That's odd. You could have sworn you turned the hearth off. Maybe a piece of bread fell onto the coals below the heat rack and now it's burning? You peak in the hearth you had just put out and see that it is Infact empty, but the smell of smoke remains. You then hear a scream from outside followed by people running around. You hear gun shots and the sound of distant laugter getting closer. You run outside to see a row of houses on fire, the fire spreading more and more. Momo amung the crowd, yanks you back into the bakery and roughly places a key in your hand. Her skin is as white as a sheet, her body drenched in sweat..and blood? "W-what happened to you? M-Momo? Wh-whats goin-"
"P-Pirates."
Your heart stops. This can't be. What would pirates what from your cute little town? "W-what? O-oh god." You cover your mouth as tears seep from your eyes, knowing this might be the end of your little happy town and maybe your life. Nothing will be the same by days end. "Listen, I need to get to my family. Stay here and hide in the back. Please be safe!" With that, Momo runs off. You waste no time hiding in the bakery, but not before locking the doors and turning off all the lights. You hide in the backroom and pray for a hero. You're covered in a cold sweat as you hear heavy footsteps outside the bakery. They seem to linger for a few moments around the display window. You hear them fade into the distance and sigh in relief.
A rock smashes through the bakery door glass and a hand shoves through the hole created to unlock the door from the inside. You begin to crawl to the back door as the person let's themselves in through the front. You hear the persons feet crunching the glass and the sound of them collecting your baked goods in a sack. You can image that baked bread and sweets are a delicacy to pirates.
You slowly open the back door and your breath is caught in your throat. "Ey captain, we got a live one!" A man wearing black shouts. From behind him, a tall, white haired man comes into view. He ducks his head under the door way as he enters. "Ah and a pretty one. I'm gonna have some fun with you, sweetie."
The cocky grin on his face tells you that he doesn't mean a board game. Fear like no other settles in your gut. He looks absolutely over joyed to see that expression on your face. Your eyes dart around for any escape. His frame covers the entire doorway.
The man smiles down at you wickedly. You try to run back into the bakery, but a pirate in dark clothing stands there, eating the bread you'd just baked. You feel a wall press into your from behind, two hands landing firmly on your shoulders. "Hey, pretty lady, no need to be frightened. We're customers. I'd like to have a cream puff. You got any of those?" The white haired pirate asked, his warm breath tickling the shell of your ear, his chest pressed against your back and...somthing else. "Huh?? No!? I-I can make some..just please..don't hurt me." You turn to him and hold your hands together.
Dread washes over you as you feel his eyes drag up and down your body with that same shit eating grin on his face. His eyes stop at your chest, your cleavage poking out from the top of your apron. You feel naked in his eyes. "No..I can help you make them...it's my specialty." He says right before he grabs at you. You let out a short scream as he picks you up by the waist and forces your body onto a counter, ass up and legs dangling over the edge. He pushes your dress up over your hips and marvels at the sight. He kneeds your ass like dough, your kicking and screaming only egging him on.
As he pulls down your underwear, you spot a wooden mallet you had been using earlier and grab it. He picks up your underwear and brings it to his nose, taking a deep inhale before pocketing it. You can feel his twitching erection poking your thigh. Before he can do anything else, you swing the mallet at his body with all your strength, managing get him in the side. You scramble off the counter and out the back door that he left open, narrowly missing his hand grabbing for your hair. "YOU FUCKING BITCH! I'LL GET YOU!" His words sends shivers like cold water down your spine, but only boost your adrenaline, further encouraging you to run even faster. He recovers from the hit almost immediately and bounds after you. You can hear him quickly catching up from behind you. You don't dare look back.
You feel all hope drain out of your body as a heavy hand land clamps around your wrist. He slams his body into yours, sending you tumbling onto the gravely path with him on top. Black spots cloud the corners of your eyes from the impact. He yanks you by the collar towards his face. You hear his shouting grow farther. He backhands you across the face, momentarily bringing you back to your senses before you succumb to sleep. "You're just a little cock tease. I'll show you how to treat a man." Are the last words you hear before passing out in the mans grip.
You hear the sound of waves, then heavy footsteps on wood. You slowly open your eyes to see that you're on a mattress in the corner of a small, dark, dust covered room. You have a massive headache that has you wanting to close your eyes again, but you do your best to resist. The only light source coming from a small round window. You whimper as you rub your hand on your face, trying to sooth your swollen cheek. You begin crying again. Your town..its gone and you're gonna die. It's like a dungeon in here. You quickly examine yourself just incase you were defiled in your sleep. Your dress is torn, revealing more of your chest and there's a vertical slit up your skirt that goes up to your hip. You shift a bit in your spot, uncomfortable. Your pussy feels..tampered with? The door swings open and you gasp. You scoot to the farthest corner of the bed. "I like that look on you..but you know, you shouldn't have hurt me earlier. That's no way to treat your captain. Now I have to discipline you. I'm captain shigaraki, but you can call me Tomura." He steps closer, taking off his coat and tossing it aside.
"No-no wait. You don't want me..I-Im no good..I...I'm on my period!" You struggle to come up with more excuses. He chuckles at this. "Sweetheart, I know that you're not. I had a taste earlier and even if you were, I'm a pirate. A little bloods never stopped me before." Your expression reflects your disgust. So he did do something to you. "You're a monster!" Your words only seem to make his smile bigger. He gets down and crawls into the bed infront of you like a lion inspecting it's prey. You scream as he grabs you by your ankle and drags you under him. He leans down, his white hair tickling your face, your foreheads almost touching. You feel his throbbing cock under his pants rub against your stomach, begging to be released. He grinds his hips back and fourth along your pelvis, making you feel every inch of what's going to be splitting you open real soon.
He drags his tongue from your neck to your cheek bone. "Feel that? All for you. every since I first laid eyes on you, I couldn't calm down. I've been meaning to get a little cabin wench and I think you'll do the job quite nicely. A pretty little thing to keep my cock warm while out at sea. I'm sure you'd like that." He bucks his hips once, a whimper leaving your mouth. "And you have your uses. You can cook and bake your sweet little bakery things for me and my men. We'll have someone watch you incase you think you can get away with using poison...and if you try...well... don't." His face is only a cm from yours. You can't recoil any further without breaking your neck.
"I'm gonna fuck your mouth first. Then I'm gonna pound your holes into dust. Make you all nice and full. I'm gonna fuck you until you bleed. That is if you're not a virgin. Make sure to beg for me to stop." His large hands grasp your dress and yank it off your body, making sure to keep it intact. Your wailing seems to add to his enjoyment. "You know, sweet heart, If I ripped up your pretty little dress, nothing would stop my men from raping all your holes bloody." One of his hands crawl towards your cunt and plays with your clit, his wide grin mocking you. Your face is completely red in shame. He surprises you when he suddenly shoves a finger into your unprepared cunt.
You hear the clinking of metal and see he's unbuckles his belt as you struggle. You try to push his hand away from your cunt with your free hand when he quickly pulls out away, instead replacing it with his heavy cock. Your breath catches in your throat as you look at the ginormous thing laying on your stomach.
"Y-you can't...be serious. That won't fit! You're gonna kill me!"
You grunt as you struggling with all your strength. "Get off of me! Get off!" You hear a crack and stop stop moving, confused. What was that sound? A fiery sting slowly spreads across your cheek. "Shut the fuck up, meat. I'm sick of your whining. Beg me to stop. Beg me for mercy. And say my name too?" He growls. "P-please, Tomura." He rubs the cheek he just smacked as a form of reward, rubbing away the tears with his thumb.
"That's a good girl..now get on your knees." You do as he says immediately, coming face to face with the monsters monster. To you, it's disgusting. A pirates down below area..who knows where it's been. The tip is already shiny with pre cum. It's thickness seems life threatening. You really don't want to put that stinky pirate prick in your mouth so you instinctively try to pull away and you kinda You like breathing. He anticipated this tangles his hand in your hair and presses your face into his groin, his cock pressing against your cheek and nose. You clench your eyes shut and whimper. You can feel his cock radiating heat. "Common. Show your new owner that you're sorry for hurting him." You don't open your mouth fast enough for his liking so he yanks your hair. The feeling is excruciating. You scream in pain he slides his cock in as soon as your mouth opens.
You immediately gag as it reaches the back of your throat, the taste making you try scrunch up your face. It's salty. It's not even all the way in yet and you're fighting for air. He laughs as you panic. "Never given head? Dont worry, I'll teach ya. Start by sucking. No teeth." You do as he instructs, closing your lips around his shift and suctioning as hard as you can. He lets out a deep, gutteral groan and thrusts his hips back and fourth. "Oh fuck. You're a natural."
He continues thrusting, his cock sliding in and out with ease, now coated with your saliva. Pre cum and saliva leaks from the corners of your mouth and down your chin and onto your awaiting tits. Your breathing has adjusted to his rythim a bit now. His pace quickens and you try to pull away harder than before, not wanting his nasty children in your mouth. He presses his hips to your lips and grunts, his pubic hair smuthered against your nose and mouth. Your mouth burns as hot, thick lava like cum pours down your throat and out your mouth. It's all coming so fast that you can't swollow fast enough to breath. You have a hard time taking it all, some of it spills from your nose. He slowly pulls out with a sigh, his hand still firmy clasping your hair. Your mouth hangs open for a few moments. You think it's over, but his cock is just as hard as it was before he assaulted you. You think you're constant whimpering is doing something for him.
He shoves you on your stomach and lifts your hips up. You try to lift yourself on your elbows, but he shoves your face into the mattress. "Stay down."
His cock prods your entrance. He tries to shove in, but you're too tight and he's too big, causing it to just slip onto your clit. You can still feel the heat coming from it, burning your skin with every contact. He grumbles in frustration when you try to move away. He lifts his heavy hand and smacks your ass. His cock prods your entrance again. "I'm warning you." Your whimpers get louder and more desperate as he slowly stuffs the head of his cock into your cunt. You're in too much pain to think properly. The head pops in and you scream. "Ah. Finally. You're cunt is like a fucking boa. Got me in a chokehold. I might get stuck." He groans out. All you can do is cry, unable to respond without sounding like a blubbering mess. He leans over your back, caging your body with his.
"This might hurt, sweety so just brace yourself." His warning would have been comforting if you couldn't tell how excited he is to hurt you. He shoves the rest of his cock into your cunt, you muffle a cry into the mattress. He presses his hips to yours, rolling in a few circles to rub it in. He licks his lips. "Yeah. Keep crying." He thrusts in and out of your hot cunt. You can hear the wet sounds of your blood and your body desperately trying to create some sort of lubricant. "Hah...maybe I'll put a baby in you. Have you be my exclusive bitch."
"P-please. I'll do anything, Tomura..no...please-" he cuts you off with a loud moan. "You look so fucking pretty like this. Cry more!" He slams his hips into your ass, forcing your spine into an uncomfortable position. Your eyes cross and you you gasp in pain. He snacks your ass again, harder than the first time. You sob loudly, feeling like you're gonna die. You feel his arm reach under you and trail his hand from between your breasts, down your mid section and then down to your tummy. He feels his cock bulge our from you slightly each time he bottoms out. He pushes down on the lump. You whimper, the feeling an indescribable amount of pleasure. You can't help but tighten around his cock even more.
You hate it, but it feels so good. You can't help yourself. Your cunt squeezes his cock as he speeds up, his pace battering your womb without a care, just as a pirate does. You try to crawl away one last time, he puts all his weight on your back and slams his hips harder than ever before, sending ripples down your body. He snacks your ass twice in a row. You're sure his strikes are to leave welts and bruises. You feel a hot gush as his cum flows into you. Your eyes cross, the feeling too pleasurable to bare. You release your juices around his cock and his face comforts in pleasure. "Ah fuck!" Your tummy bloats slightly, and cum spurts out from around where his cock is buried deep inside you. He thrusts gently, riding out his orgasm. He leans over your shoulder to whisper in your ear.
"You're gonna be my little wife now. No complain'in. You cook, you bake, you clean, you sit on my cock and when it's time, bare my children." You can't believe the direction your life took. This morning, you were happy in your little bakery, now you're a pirates concubine or something. He slowly pulls out with a lewd 'pop' sound and rolls you over to face him. He almost tenderly kisses you o the lips. "I enjoyed this raids bounty today. I found a beautiful treasure." His lays himself next to you, hugging you closer to his body.
With that, you couldn't stay awake any longer. Your lower half is completely numb. You have no feeling in your ass and you sure sitting will not be an option for awhile. Maybe one day you'll come to enjoy being a pirates love.
Maybe you'll get used to this. Maybe if you behave.
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lambtotheslaughterr · 2 months
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When The Bough Breaks : Epilogue
A Rafe Cameron Mini Series
[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]
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WC: 2.3k
Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics
FINALE | MASTERLIST
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            You felt far away, Rose’s voice a distant mumble in the background. She prattled on beside you to the employee behind the counter. She picked out a couple onesies & insisted on getting them customized with the name of your unborn child, a feature the maternity store offered. But you felt nothing, could feel nothing. Only time you did is when the baby kicked or hiccupped. You wanted to feel ecstatic, lose yourself in the memories & joy from your first pregnancy. But the man who kissed your nearly full term belly at night & whispered to it good morning was far from who you would’ve picked to be a father.
            Rafe had spent the last nine months of your pregnancy being the doting husband & affectionate father he prided himself to be. You couldn’t believe how seemed to be completely removed from the reality of the situation—that from the beginning you were an unwilling party. Yet there you were. Shopping for more baby clothes with Rose. You had plenty already, enough to clothe the children of America, but Rose never took no for an answer.
            The only relief your pregnancy brought you was that Rafe stopped trying to sleep with you. One night, in the midst of your second trimester, you had woken to blood soaking the sheets. Rafe panicked, sure that the baby had been lost. But the doctor was happy to announce to the both of you that the baby was fine & healthy. However, she did say that sexual activity should be reduced to a minimum, if at all, to prevent any more scares. That’s how often Rafe fucked you.
            You dreaded having the baby, not only because it would forever tie you to Rafe, but it meant Rafe would have at you as much as he pleased. You feared another pregnancy. Never before had you prayed for menopause to come early.
            “_____.” Rose gently shook your shoulder, her manicured nails piercing you through your sweater. “Have you two decided on a name?”
            You mean has Rafe decided on a name, you wanted to say, wanting absolutely nothing to do with this pregnancy. You bit your lip & shook your head. The employee behind the counter frowned, but it wasn’t a hard one. It was almost like she sensed your misery. Rose chuckled awkwardly, “I suppose I’ll ask the father.”
            “Ask me what?” Rafe appeared behind you, an arm wrapping around your middle. His hand placed at the center of your swollen belly. He kissed the side of your head.
            “The name!” Rose chirped, “I want to get a couple onesies customized.”
            “It’ll outgrow them fast, Rose, really it’s not necessary.” You responded, feeling caged in by Rafe & Rose.
            “’It’?” Rose sneered but kept the same bright, forced smile on her face, “You two are still insisting on not knowing the gender, I don’t understand.”
            It was Rafe who spoke for you, “It’s a surprise. For the both of us.” He brought you into his chest, as if you had a say. You didn’t care what it was. It’d be a monster like it’s father.
            “Charlie.” Rafe announced jovially. You glanced back up at him, your brows creased.
            “Charlotte if it’s a girl, Charles for a boy.” Rafe held your stomach, “Charlie.”
            “Oh, that’s lovely.” Rose turned to the employee, “Charlie it is.”
            Rafe pulled you away then, wanting you to join him as he browsed. You didn’t understand why you had to be here. You never suggested any ideas: clothing, names, the nursery theme. It was all Rafe & Rose. Even the outfit you wore was courtesy of Rose. She had said that she never had a pregnancy & wanted to spoil you with maternity clothes. You were positive it was just a way to humiliate you, she dressed you like a Floridian grandmother.
            “How much longer?” You questioned once you were a decent distance from Rose.
            “Why, are you feeling sick?” Rafe asked but there was no amount of concern in his voice.
            “Sick of all of this, yes.” You glared at him. He only smirked in return.
            Then he cupped your face, bringing his face in to kiss you. To anyone, you may look the happily married couple, sharing in the enjoyment of their little bundle of joy, but it was all an illusion. Rafe stayed closed to you as he whispered, “You’re stuck with me, _____. Or did you forget our wedding?”
            You tried, often, to forget that day. It was a beach wedding. Less than 100 people were in attendance but none of them your friends or allies. It was a day for Rafe to lay claim to his property, not to profess your undying devotion to one another. The whole day was a blur. It’s how you preferred to keep it. Because Rafe was right, you were stuck with him. For better or for worse.
            “Now smile.” Rafe dragged a finger under your chin, “You’re too beautiful to frown.”
            Rose joined the two of you then, holding up three onesies, “What do we think?”
            Charlie Cameron, Daddy’s Little Girl, & Mommy’s Little Boy.
            “They’re great, thank you, Rose.” Rafe spoke for the both of you. You ignored the onesies.
            “My pleasure.” She grinned, stuffing them into a bag & handing it to you.
            You reluctantly took it.
            “Now, we must be off.” Rose checked the time on her phone, “We’re meeting your father for lunch remember.”
            Ward. If getting pregnant & marrying into the Cameron family was the deepest pits of hell, Ward Cameron was the devil himself. He was the only one that wasn’t trying to fake anything, at least in front of family. In public, he was proud to show you off—the mother of his first grandchild. But in private, he made it no secret that he held you to a certain standard, to remember a certain threat.
            Leaving the maternity store, the outlet mall was bustling. It was peak tourism season. Rafe kept a hand on your lower back as he walked at your pace. This pregnancy was incredibly more uncomfortable than your first. With Jesse, you were in bliss & your body responded well to the changes. This one however, your feet were swollen beyond recognition, you suffered indigestion, & your post-partem depression was already settling deep into your bones. The thought & feel of it all made you break into a sweat. You were beginning to feel dizzy.
            “I need to sit.” You announced quietly, moving towards a nearby bench. Rose appeared mildly annoyed but gave a tight smile, “Oh, alright.”
            “Do you need anything?” Rafe sat beside you, his hand holding yours.
            A glass of wine & bottle of pills, but you pushed the quip away, “Water, please. Cucumber water.”
            The cucumber was an excuse to send him away, hopefully both of them. Rose sighed but pulled out her phone, “Well go on, Rafe. I’ll call Ward, let him know we’re running late.”
            She stepped a few feet away to make the call. Rafe glared at her back before facing you, “God, she’s annoying.”
            It was the first time you managed a genuine smile, even if it was small & short-lived.
            “I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere.”
            “Like I’d get far.” You mumbled. Rafe cocked his head but smirked, “I’ll chase you down. Always.”
            That was a promise, you knew. But thankfully, Rafe left you. For the first time in what felt like weeks you breathed a sigh of relief. Cracking your neck, you ghosted your fingers across your belly, feeling for any movement. It was sleeping. It liked to sleep most often during the daytime, choosing to keep you awake at night. You had a nagging feeling that once it was born sleeping habits would remain the same.
            You had your eyes closed, focused on your breathing when you heard footfalls approach you. Initially, you assumed it was Rose, but she had a discernable stomp in her heels. Slowly, you pried your eyes open, perhaps expecting to see a friend of the Cameron’s. But who you saw made you gasp.
            “Moses.”
            It was really him. He was wearing a powder blue button down tucked into a pair of jeans. His face was clean-shaven, a look unlike him. You stared at one another, though his clearly exhausted eyes were aimed directly at your belly.
            “So, it’s true.” The sound of his voice brought tears to your eyes. It was really him! After the divorce was finalized, you never saw or heard from him—only in your dreams. His eyes shifted to the ring on your finger, “That’s not the one I gave you.”
            Instinctively, you covered your hand. You wish you could hide your belly but there was no attempting that at the size you were.
            “No, I—” But words failed you. What could you say? There was nothing.
            “What are you doing here?” You changed focus.
            Moses finally looked you in the eyes & your heart ached. It was the same heartbroken expression he carried the night you told him you wanted a divorce. You recalled he had asked you if there was someone else. You had lied. But your lie was on full display now.
            “You look…” He started. You finished the sentence in your mind. I look horrid, ghastly, monstrous, an infidel, a whore.
            “Beautiful.”
            Tears spilled from your eyes as he looked you over. He wasn’t happy, but he wasn’t angry. You knew him well enough to know. He was simply sad. Deeply sad.
            “Moses, I. I don’t know what to say.” Your voice shook.
            He gave a half-hearted smile, “Are you happy?”
            No! You wanted to scream it, to beg him to whisk you away. In a second, you imagined a life with Moses with another man’s baby. Maybe you could love your unborn baby then, if Moses was the one to raise it alongside you.
            But you said nothing in response. Moses nodded in minor understanding, “That was rude of me. It’s not my business.”
            “No, it’s okay.” You went to stand but he threw out his hand to steady you as you wobbled, adrenaline coursing your veins. “What are you doing here?”
            Moses frowned but faked a courtesy smile, “Had some last minute business to finish before moving to my next location.”
            “Oh? Where to now? Back home?” You imagined him back in the city, amongst friends & family, all the people there to support him.
            ��There is no home.” It was an instinctual response, one that you knew wasn’t meant to be said out loud, but you winced still.
            “I mean, I am taking a couple years off. Going to travel. See the world.”
            A dream the two of you shared. With Jesse.
            “That’s…” Awful. “..amazing.” You gulped, “Where are you off to first?”
            “Amsterdam.” Moses said faintly, but his eyes could only take you all in as you stood before him.
            “Moses, that’s—”
            “_____!” You jumped at the sound of your name. Spinning around, it was Rafe, holding a plastic coffee cup with water & floating cucumbers.
            “No.” You whispered it so lowly, only you could hear it.
            Rafe looked murderous. His eyes strained directly on your ex-husband. But Rafe hid his animosity as best as he could, joining the two of you, his arm draped across your shoulders. Moses pressed his lips together, a deep frown forming.
            “Rafe, this is—”
            “I know who it is.” Rafe smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. He held out his hand, “The ex-husband. We’ve actually never met before.”
            “Only once, actually.” Moses replied, the same feigned kindness in his voice, “You were flirting with my wife in the backyard when we came over for dinner long ago.”
            They shook hands. You watched as Rafe tightened his hold on Moses’ hand, “My wife now.”
            Moses half-scoffed, half-chuckled, lowering his hand, “She’s an excellent one.”
            “I know.” Rafe’s voice hardened, likely annoyed that Moses was unfazed by his attempt to assert dominance.
            “I’m sure you do.” Moses peered at him suspiciously but finally looked to you, “It was nice seeing you, _____.”
            “You, as well.” It took everything in you to not spill the truth about everything. But picturing him behind bars stopped you. It always did. Now you were only strangers.
            “You’re going to be a wonderful mother.”
            An inaudible sob escaped you. You brought your hand to your mouth to keep from crying uncontrollably.
            “Thank you.” Rafe answered for you, his eyes never leaving Moses. But Moses didn’t give him any more attention.
            “Well, goodbye.” Moses took a step back. You went to mirror him, follow him, but Rafe tightened his hold on you.
            “Goodbye, Moses.”
            Tears skipped down your cheeks as you watched Moses walked away from you.
            Rafe exhaled loudly, heavily. He stepped into your line of sight, cutting out Moses entirely.
            “That was…eventful.” His hands smoothed your hair before wiping at the tears on your cheeks, “But it’s time you move on. We have our own adventure waiting for us.” A hand fell to your belly. Rafe smiled proudly.
            “Whatever you say.” You mumbled.
            Rafe kissed you on your cheek before bringing his lips to your ear, “Smile, _____.”
            He pulled back to look you in your eyes. Your stomach kicked.
            “It’s the beginning of the rest of your life. And I will always be by your side.”
            And you knew it to be true.
            But you decided then, in that exact moment, that you were going to be everything Moses said you were. You were going to be a wonderful mother. If not for yourself, but for the sake of the life inside you. The baby couldn’t help who it’s father was, but it could benefit from having you as their mother. You swore, you promised.
            Rafe had won. You couldn’t be saved. But your baby could. And you’d dedicate your life to protecting & loving the life within you.
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and that is the end. WTBB is officially over. this is by far my proudest work to date, & it's a major thank you to all my readers & supporters who have given me so much feedback to this series. so thank you to all of you!
as always, comment, reblog w reviews, talk to me. i'm excited to hear everyone's thoughts!
thank you for reading
beau<3
Requests are currently CLOSED.
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jell-o101 · 4 months
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You GUYYYSSS
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These controllers have had drift for a while now and I don’t want to get rid of them because of the stickers that came with my preorder of Super Mario 3D All Stars 😭😭😭
I wonder if anyone online makes custom silicone covers for joy cons 🤔
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putellas11 · 2 years
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A/N: Secret relationship fic requested by a lovely anon. This fic is inspired by Notting Hill, one of my favorite movies. The beginning is pretty similar to the movie, but later on I pretty much make it my own. Keep in mind that Alexia is like 200x more famous in this fic. Hope you enjoy!
Just a Girl (Alexia Putellas x Reader)
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Of course, you’ve seen her play and have always thought she was, well, incredible — but despite living in the same city, she’s a million miles from the small world you live in.
Carrer de la Riera Baixa is home to secondhand stores passed down from generation to generation, independent record stores with selections long forgotten, and a bar only sought out by those with something to forget. Tucked in between is your bookstore. Unlike the other stores, there is no storefront or windows to peak through. The only clue of what is sold is engraved on a plate, nailed to the door.
Llibres Rars FOR THOSE WHO SEEK THE PAST
Riera Baixa is gritty but honest, and most importantly, all you have ever known. From your apartment building, it takes exactly 80 steps to reach the shop. It’s a path you can take with your eyes closed if necessary.
And from this path you have not strayed.
Even when your girlfriend of five years asked you to take a detour and build a life together in a new city. The words ‘new’ and ‘different’ sparked feelings in you that greatly contrasted her own. Whereas she felt excitement, you felt fear. All you’ve ever known is Riera Baixa and all you’ve ever looked forward to are those 80 steps. You tried to explain this to her but your words were simply not enough. So, she packed her bags and sought out a new adventure. The morning after she left, you walked those 80 steps again, but it felt like you were walking for miles.
The pain of her leaving subsided with time, but she left a void in your heart you thought would be impossible for anything or anyone to ever fill — or so you thought.
On Saturdays something special happens on Riera Baixa street. The metal doors slide open and the stores spill out onto the streets for residents and tourists alike. The strum of an acoustic guitar fills the air, a beautiful melody mixed with the sound of excited chatter and intense bargains taking place.
Inside the bookshop, you’re hunched over the front desk, staring at numbers on a page that bring you no satisfaction. Your sole employee and close friend, Anna, stands by your side, her hand resting on your shoulder.
“A major sales push and all we have to show for it is 233 euros in profits,” you look at Anna, your voice, defeated.
“I think you need some coffee. You know, to ease the pain a little.”
You let out a deep sigh, “make it a café con leche and a chocolate croissant, please.”
With one small, comforting squeeze on your shoulder, Anna walks out of the bookshop in search of the only thing that can bring you a little bit of happiness.
You remain focused on the page, hoping that if you stare at it long enough the numbers will transform. The bookshop has never been the most profitable business on Riera Baixa street, seemingly always hanging by a thin thread— a very thin thread. And yet, it has remained a staple of the market, making just enough to survive year after year.
The little bell attached to the door rings out in the quiet, taking you out of your thoughts. You glance up casually, expecting to see just another customer with an unfamiliar face.
It’s like the air is sucked out of the room.
Despite the black cap and sunglasses, there’s no mistaking her. No matter where you are in the city, you see her. Her face is plastered on every newspaper, her name a constant sound on the radio, the city walls decorated with murals of her.
It’s Alexia Putellas, the greatest football player in the world, the pride and joy of Barcelona — here — in your store. She is the inspiration of many and the example of hard work and dedication. But also, the most heavenly, generous, beautiful woman on earth.
“Need some help?” you ask, the words almost getting stuck in your throat.
Alexia glances up from the book held gingerly in her hands, “No, thank you. Just looking around.”
“Ok.”
You feign interest in the scattered pieces of paper on the desk, flipping through the pages with no purpose.
From the corner of your eye, you can see Alexia wander from shelf to shelf, fingertips brushing against the spine of the books that intrigue her. Something does indeed catch her eye because she stops and picks out a book from the shelf. It’s a book you instantly recognize, even from a distance.
“Good choice, but uh, just a little bit depressing” you dare to say, hoping she won’t mind the interruption too much.
Alexia makes no effort to look in your direction, her attention on the cover of the book. “What’s it about?” she asks.
“Oh — well, long story short, all the main character knows is tragedy so to protect herself, she doesn’t let anyone get close. She thinks she’ll just inevitably lose them.”
“I see.” Alexia appears to give the novel some more thought but, in the end, decides to heed your warning and returns the book to its proper place.
Alexia continues her search — for what, you do not know. But whatever it is, you want to help her find it.
Eventually she plucks out another book, but this time doesn’t bother to look at the cover. Instead, she brings it up to your view, “and this one?”
“That one has too many men with insufferable egos.”
Alexia hides her smile behind the book, “not my thing,” she says, and puts it right back.
You lose sight of her when she wanders to the back of the shop, daring to explore the mess of books stacked up from floor to ceiling. Very rarely do customers visit that section and that only makes her far more intriguing.
After a few minutes, Alexia returns to the front of the shop with a book held delicately in her hands. “I think I found the one,” she says, resting the book on the desk.
Taking a peek at the cover, a smile tugs on your lips. “It’s one of my favorites, actually.”
Alexia tilts her head slightly to the side, removing her sunglasses and finally allowing you to see her eyes.
You wonder if she can tell your heart skipped a beat or two.
“If it’s your favorite, why do you have it all the way in the back?” she asks.
“I don’t know,” you pause for a moment to think, “I guess some novels are best stumbled upon y’know… found at just the right moment by the right person.”
“Am I the right person?”
“Definitely.”
Alexia looks at you with a slight smile and just like that, whatever worries you had before she walked in are no more. When you complete the transaction and hand her the bag, her fingers brush against your own for a brief, but electrifying second.
“Have a good day,” she says, bringing up the sunglasses to cover her eyes once again, much to your disappointment.
“Yeah… you too,” is all you can say, but the voice in your head is begging for her to stay.
Alexia opens the door to leave but hesitates, “I didn’t catch your name,” she says.
“Oh, it’s Y/N,” you manage to say, for a brief second forgetting your own name.
Alexia silently mouths your name and offers you a smile that warms your entire body. With that, she steps out onto the street and disappears from your view.
Once again, a quiet takes over the shop. You’re left in a daze, having to pinch yourself to prove that it was all real— that she was real.
Anna returns just a few minutes later with two cups in her hand and a flustered look on her face. “Café con leche as ordered,” she says, shuffling the papers out of the way and resting the hot, steaming cup of coffee on the front desk.
“You won’t believe who was just here,” you say, still in a state of disbelief.
“Alexia Putellas?”
You take a step back, shocked that she was able to guess so quickly. “Yes! Wait, did you see her when she walked out?”
Anna appears to be just as surprised as you, “hold on, I was right? That was a total guess, oh my god!” she exclaims, looking back at the door, hoping Alexia would just walk right back in. “But no, I saw her on the front page of a newspaper when I was at the pastry shop. That’s why she was my first guess.”
“It was a damn good guess.” You reach for the cup but go still when you realize something is missing, “no chocolate croissants today?”
“Oh shit!” she taps her forehead with her palm, “the new girl, Emma, was flirting with me again, and well, you know how I get,” she says, her cheeks red with a blush.
You let out a little snort, shaking your head. “Perfectly reasonable explanation,” you say, “I’ll go get it. I think some fresh air will do me good.”
Just as you’re about to step out onto the street, Anna calls out to you. “Wait! You mind getting me an orange juice? I meant to get one but-“
You give her a knowing look, “you looked into Emma’s beautiful eyes and forgot?”
“Yep!”
It’s usually a short walk to the pastry shop, but on Saturdays it takes a little longer with the crowd that gathers in search of antiques and other goods.
Emma smiles when you walk in and asks you about Anna to which you reply, “back at the shop, a flustered mess.”
While Emma works on your order, you can’t help but glance at the newspapers on display. Alexia’s face is on the cover of about half of them, and the headlines all attack her in one way or the other.
Alexia Putellas A Shell of Her Former Self, reads one of the headlines.
Another cover has Alexia crying on the pitch, her hands over her face and with the headline, Will Putellas Miss Again?
Ever since Alexia missed a penalty in last years Champions League final penalty shootout, the press have developed an obsession for attacking her. Only a few months prior to the final they were singing her praises, but as it turns out, highlighting her misfortunes brings in a whole lot more money and attention.
With a cup of orange juice, chocolate croissant, and some napkins in your hands, you swing out of the pastry shop with very little care. You’re about to turn a corner when you bump into-
“Alexia!” a rising panic in your voice.
“Shh!” she looks around to see if anybody heard, orange juice dripping from her shirt down onto the street.
“I’m so sorry! Here, let me help.” Without much of a thought, you attempt to pat dry her shirt but get a little too near to her breasts for someone Alexia just met.
“What are you doing?!”
You jump back, flustered, and so utterly embarrassed. “Sorry… again. Um, listen I live just right over there, please, you could get cleaned up and be good to go. I’d hate to ruin your day,” you pause, letting out an awkward chuckle, “If I haven’t already.”
The sunglasses shield her eyes, but you don’t need to see them to tell she’s annoyed. “Fine. But what do you mean, just right over there?”
You point in the direction of your apartment, “literally right over there, it's the one with the red curtains.”
Alexia looks down at her shirt, soaked and stained with orange juice. With a sigh, she nods and accepts your offer. __
Your apartment is an extension of the bookstore. Books everywhere and on everything; some closed, and some left open to your favorite passages.
“Something tells me you like to read,” she says, a hint of teasing in her words.
You give her a nervous smile, “just a little.”
Alexia takes off her sunglasses and places them on the nearest table alongside her bags. “It’s a good thing I decided to buy this top after all,” she says, taking out a black crop top, “Bathroom?”
“Right over there,” you reply, pointing to the bathroom door at the end of the hallway.
With Alexia out of sight, you take in a deep breath in hopes it will calm your nerves but it’s hard to ignore the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Saturdays are usually pretty eventful, but this is something else entirely. It’s not the fact that’s she’s incredibly famous that has you feeling like this. While it’s true that there’s no lack of beautiful women in Barcelona, none have ever made your heart explode in your chest and your soul stand still in awe with just one look.
Alexia steps out of the bathroom and there goes your heart again, picking up its pace. The top rides up her stomach just enough for you to see the carved rigids of her abs, and tight enough for you tell she’s not wearing a bra.
It’s so incredibly obvious that you’re staring, but the sparkle in her eyes hints that she doesn’t mind.
“Cup of coffee before you go?” you ask, forcing yourself to maintain eye-contact.
“No, thank you.”
“Tea?”
Alexia tugs on her bottom lip for a moment then shakes her head, “no.”
“How about a croissant? Best in all of Barcelona.”
Her lips twitch in an effort to fight her smile, “really, no.”
“Will I always get a no from you?”
There’s a pause.
“No,” she says and gives you a look that means something, but you just don’t know what.
“I should go,” she says, “I want to say thank you for all your help, but you are the one that spilled orange juice all over me so…”
You look down at your feet, trying to muster up a little bit of courage, “Before you go… I realize I might never get another chance to tell you this, considering I’ve done nothing but make a fool of myself today but,” you meet her eyes, “you’ll forget all about me the second you step out of that door, but… I fear you’ll never leave my mind.”
She smiles, and you realize that’s all you’ll get in return.
“Right, well…,” you guide her towards the front door, “it was nice to meet you, Alexia.”
With a nod, she steps out of the apartment and you close the door behind her. Leaning against it, you tap your forehead again, and again on the door in embarrassment. “That literally couldn’t have gone worse,” you say with a heavy sigh.
You turn away from the door but suddenly, you hear a knock. You expect it to be Anna, tracking you down since you never made it back to the shop. But when you open the door, you see Alexia.
“Hi,” she says, “Sorry, I forgot my bags.”
You look back and see her bags still on the table where she left them, “oh, right. I’ll get them for you.”
When you return to the door with her bags in your hand, you notice Alexia has taken two steps inside the apartment. You go to hand her the bags but surprisingly, she doesn’t make a move a muscle to take them from you.
You’re confused, but in her eyes, you only see certainty.
That’s when she kisses you, without any warning but without haste, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world for her. It’s a gentle kiss, without passion but with a tenderness that has you feeling like you’re floating in the clouds.
Alexia pulls away and it takes a few seconds for you to open your eyes. You have so many questions, but it seems you’ve lost the ability to speak. In silence, Alexia reaches for the bags still in your hands and with one last look, walks out once again.
This time, however, she leaves you with a little hope in your heart that one day, maybe she’ll return.
___________________
“So let me get this straight,” Anna says, pacing back and forth on the balcony of your apartment, “five-time Balon D’or winner, Alexia Putellas, kissed you?”
“That is correct.” You don’t blame Anna for having trouble believing your encounter with Alexia. Hell, it’s hard for you to believe and you lived it.
“And she just walked out? Didn’t say anything, just kissed you and went on her merry way?”
That part of it all was also difficult for you to wrap your head around. “Kissed me and walked right out,” you reply, looking down at everyone going about their lives on Riera Baixa street, “I swear I’ve never been so confused in my life.”
Anna plops down on the chair next to you and lifts her legs up to rest on the railing, “No wonder you were acting so weird when you got back to the shop. Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t pass out — God knows I would have.”
“Well, I stood there like an idiot for like fifteen minutes after she left so… close enough.”
The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes, just trying to make sense out of something that makes absolutely no sense at all. The memory of the kiss is permanently engraved in your memory. No matter what you do to try and distract yourself from it, it’s impossible to not relive it in your mind.
“So what are you gonna do now?” Anna finally asks.
All you can do is shrug, “what can I do?” You’ve been asking yourself that very same question and have yet to come up with an answer. “She’s famous, Annie, it’s not like I can track her down or something. Let’s say I do somehow manage to get in contact with her, would she even want to talk to me? I mean, yes, she did kiss me but she also just walked out and left me standing there. I honestly don’t kno—”
“Oh my god!” Anna jumps out of the chair with her phone in her hands.
Her sudden outburst startles you, “what!?”
Anna starts gesturing wildly at the phone, “Alexia just followed the bookshop on Instagram!”
You jump out of your chair, just like Anna, and take the phone from her hands.
Alexia Putellas has followed you
“This is huge,” Anna says, peering over your shoulder at the screen, “not only for your love life but for the store too.”
Business is the last thing on your mind. The realization that Alexia hasn’t forgotten all about you has your head spinning, so much so that you need to sit back down. You’re staring at the notification with your heart ready to explode out of your chest, but then you get another one and this time, it’s a message.
Alexia: sorry couldn’t find you by your name 🙄 Alexia: it’s a little late notice but we have a game tomorrow. Can you make it? Alexia: I want to see you again
Each message sends you further into a state of panic, your hands trembling. All of the sudden everything feels really real. Your kiss with Alexia felt so surreal that you could almost trick yourself into believing it was all a figment of your imagination. But now, reality has smacked you right across the face and you’re terrified.
“You ok? You’re white as a ghost,” Anna says, reaching for your trembling hands.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” you say to her, feeling a pressure in your chest, “she’s Alexia Putellas, Anna. She’s all people talk about in this city and everyone wants to know everything about her. Remember her last relationship?”
Anna nods, a slight grimace on her face. “Yeah, the press wouldn’t leave them alone. I’ll admit, it was all a little extreme.”
Just the idea of being followed around everywhere you go by strangers with flashing cameras has you paralyzed with fear. You’re a creature of habit, finding comfort in routine and happiness in an ordinary life. Alexia’s life is anything but ordinary and you fear you’ll sink rather than float in her presence.
“I can’t do this,” you say, giving the phone back to Anna and running your fingers through your hair feeling overwhelmed. “We’re from two different worlds.”
Anna knows you better than anyone else and was there by your side, helping you pick up the broken pieces of your heart. Like you, she lives in her own little world on Riera Baixa street and has never desired a change of scenery or change of pace.
“Are you going to reply?” Anna asks you, softly.
You take a shuddering breath, your eyes starting to tear up. “It’s better that I don’t. Besides, she’ll forget all about me soon enough,” you say with a self-deprecating laugh, wiping away the single tear running down your cheek.
Anna gives your hand a little squeeze. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” she says, but knows better than to push the subject.
___________________
It’s the end of yet another slow day at the bookstore which only makes it all that more difficult to keep your mind off Alexia. Anytime the bell rings announcing a new customer your heart drops at the small possibility of it being her. But it’s never her and as much as you hate to admit it, you feel disappointed each time.
The bell rings and you look up to find a man with a rather bored look on his face.
“Welcome,” you greet him, “can I help you?”
The man stops a few feet away from you and looks around slowly, “do you have any travel books?”
“Uh,” you look around the store, the answer very clear to you, “no, sorry, we only sell novels.”
The man doesn’t seem satisfied by your answer. “Rick Stevens?”
You try to recall the name of the author, but nothing comes to mind. “I’m sorry, I’m not familiar with his work. Do you know the name of the novel?”
“Best of Europe Guidebook.”
Fighting the urge to scream, you give the man a tight smile. “That’s a travel book. We only sell novels, sir.”
“What about Fodor’s Essential Europe?”
You take a glance at the clock and breathe a sigh of relief when you see its almost closing time. “Nope, don’t have that either,” you say, stepping away from the counter and towards the door, “unfortunately it’s time for us to close. I’m sorry I couldn’t help you find what you need.”
The man takes an unbearably long time to walk out of the door and you try to hide your eagerness when you close the door behind him.
“Why is Anna never here to deal with the weird customers,” you mumble to yourself.
Shrugging off the annoyance, you start to pack up your belongings to head on home.
But once again, the bell rings and that same annoyance starts to creep up again, “We don’t sell travel books,” you say without even bothering to turn back and see who walked in.
“That’s good to know,” says a very familiar voice.
Your body goes still, a chill running down your spine. It’s the very same voice that’s been haunting your dreams for days. With your eyes closed, you take one deep breath before turning around and finally facing her.
“Alexia.”
Same as the first time she walked in, a black cap and sunglasses conceal her identity. When she takes off her sunglasses, a part of you wishes she would have kept them on. Her eyes pierce through you, making you feel weak in the knees.
“You left me on read,” Alexia says, taking a step closer to you.
“I did,” you say, taking a step back.
“Why?” She says, now a little bit closer.
You go to take another step but feel your back against the bookshelf. “I just don’t belong in your world, that’s all.” You want to be firm with your words, but your voice falters.
Now within arm’s reach, Alexia shakes her head. “You don’t know my world,” she says.
When you don’t answer, she closes the little bit of distance remaining between your two bodies. Your skin ignites when she brushes a finger along your cheek, your eyes flutter as you instinctively lean into her touch.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” her voice is quiet, almost a whisper against your ear. Alexia slides her hands down to your hips, her grip firm but gentle: making it clear she has no intention of letting you go.
Your pulse beats loudly in your ears, her scent invading your lungs and clouding your mind. Nothing good can came of this, you know it, and yet you’re incapable of pushing her away. Your eyes flick down to her lips, just for a quick second, but it’s all the confirmation Alexia needs.
She bows her head down warily, watching your reaction, almost as she’s scared you’re going to run away any second. She tests you by brushing her lips against yours, a jolt of electricity running between you. Her tongue runs across your bottom lip and you can’t take it anymore.
“Kiss me.”
And Alexia doesn’t hesitate. The kiss starts slow — deep but hesitant. Your hands trembling lightly as you reach up to cup her cheeks. Eventually, the whole world disappears and all you’re left with is the feeling of her lips.
___________________
You give in to temptation and agree to keep seeing Alexia in secret. After every game, she finds her way to your apartment, sneaking away from the press that wait for her outside of Camp Nou. The only one who knows of your relationship is Anna and you’ve sworn her to secrecy.
It turns out that what exists between the two of you is far deeper than just a physical attraction. More than just lust. There is a certain kind of comfort and peace you feel when she holds you in her arms. You’re certain Alexia feels the same way as you see the way her shoulders relax when she steps inside your apartment, and the sadness in her eyes when she has to sneak away in the morning.
You’ve also picked up on the ease with which Alexia has settled into your apartment. Her favorite Barça sweatshirt has found a home in the top left drawer of your dresser. Her toothbrush now keeps yours company in the bathroom. And every morning, without fail, she asks you to stop by the pastry shop for a coffee and chocolate croissants that, according to Alexia, are indeed the best in all of Barcelona.
Having been given a few days off to rest, you have the rare privilege of spending all day together. So, of course, the two of you decide to waste an entire day in bed.
There’s a full-length mirror in the corner of your bedroom. In its reflection, you see two bodies tangled up in messy white sheets, legs intertwined, Alexia’s fingers lightly grazing against your bare back. Goosebumps form on your skin and you don’t know if it’s from her touch or the cool breeze that’s coming through the balcony sliding door.
You turn around to face Alexia. Her hair is tousled; a small smile on her face, thoughts hidden behind her eyes.
“Everything ok?” you ask softly, tucking a loose strand behind her ear.
Alexia supports her head with her hand, looking at you with tenderness. “I haven’t felt like this in a long time,” she says, “I haven’t felt like myself in a long time.”
Little by little, Alexia has clued you in on her life as a professional athlete and all the pros and cons that come with it. At first it was a dream come true to be recognized as the best, but through the years, that title has become more of a burden than anything else.
Heavy is the head that wears the crown.
The media demands Alexia to secure the Champions League trophy in order to be deemed worthy of yet another Ballon D’or. They demand a player who can show up in important games: a player who can make that crucial penalty in a final. All her previous accomplishments be damned. All they remember is that penalty.
“You know I forgot my bags on purpose,” she says, tugging on the sheets draped over your body.
“What do you mean?”
Alexia let’s out a little chuckle at the memory that’s replying in her mind, “the day we first met” she says, “remember, you were rambling about how you would never forget me...”
You tug the sheets up to hide your face, a warmth on your cheeks.
“I thought it was so cute,” she says, sneaking her hand underneath the sheets to rest on your stomach, “I knew I had to get the bags before leaving but I decided to leave them behind.”
You peer out from under the sheets, “how come?”
“I wanted an excuse to come back and see you. I thought I’d let a few days go by but I don’t know, I wanted to kiss you so bad and just I couldn’t wait.”
Her confession comes to a surprise as you have always believed you made a complete, total fool of yourself that day.
“Hm, well I do have that effect on people,” you tease.
Alexia rolls her eyes and throws the sheet over the two of you. Underneath the covers, you share lingering kisses, giggles, and promises of forever.
___________________
You watched it happen live from the bookstore.
The game was tied and there was no sign of either team conceding a goal in the final minutes. But with only three minutes left in the game, Aitana was fouled inside the box and the referee immediately blew her whistle.
Penalty.
You were certain Alexia would be the one to take it and for that reason, you were on edge. Despite putting on a great performance all game, if Alexia missed the penalty, that’s all people would talk about. You knew that and most importantly, so did Alexia.
Everyone at the stadium, including you all the way at the bookstore, held their breath. You watched Alexia very carefully as she stood there, staring down the goalkeeper. What you saw sparked in you concern. There was an undeniable confidence in her posture, but in her eyes, you noticed something else entirely.
Your hands covered your face, but through the gaps, you watched the ball fly up and over the crossbar.
Alexia missed the penalty and the first leg of the champions league semifinal ended in a draw. While not the worst result, you had no doubt the media would attack her mercilessly for failing to secure the win.
Which is why you’re waiting for her at the bookshop, like you always do after a game— no matter the result. Right now, your number one priority is being there for her and to silence all the negative thoughts that are undoubtedly running through her mind.
Every tick of the clock feels like an eternity but the door does eventually open. The second Alexia’s eyes lock on you, her lips start to quiver. “I missed,” she manages to say before covering her mouth with her hands, shoulders shaking as she fights the sobs building in her chest.
You run and take her in your arms. “Oh, baby…” you say, tears welling up in your own eyes.
Alexia hugs you so fiercely, as if afraid you’ll disappear. All the disappointment, frustration, and pain rush out of her as she sobs in your arms. All you can do is stroke her back, whisper words of affection in her ear, and simply hold her in hopes that will be enough to ease a little of her pain.
But it’s hard to fight the pain when it shows up at the front door.
Strangers with flashing cameras overwhelm the entrance of the bookshop, shouting and begging for a glimpse of Alexia.
Hearing the disturbance outside, Alexia looks up from your shoulder with tear-stained cheeks. “Mierda,” she mumbles, “I rushed to get here and they must have followed me.”
Fear begins to creep on you but you try your best to hide it from her. This is exactly what you feared: your world being invaded by the press. Now that they know you and Alexia have some sort of connection, they won’t stop until they get to the bottom of it. In just one night, your little world is not so little anymore.
“It’s ok,” you assure her, running your fingers through her hair. “But we can’t stay here all night. When you’re ready, we’ll walk out and make a run for the apartment.”
Alexia, not wanting to face the press in her current state, takes a few minutes to gather her composure. She wipes the tears from her cheeks and takes a few good, deep breaths. It’s a ritual you imagine she’s had to do on more than one occasion, and it makes you hate those who are waiting outside with even more of a passion.
Hand in hand, you share one last look before walking out of the bookshop.
Nothing could have prepared you for this. All at once they all scream their questions at you and Alexia, forcing their cameras and microphones directly in front of your faces. They take no mercy despite your obvious fear and discomfort. The only one who notices is Alexia, who tightens her grip on your hand and forces her way through the crowd of reporters.
“Alexia is this your girlfriend!?” asks one of the reporters, following closely.
You put your head down, trying your best to hide your face from the cameras. Your silence does nothing to deter their never-ending onslaught of questions. All their voices mix into one, but your ears manage to catch some of the questions thrown at Alexia, and each one makes you rage more than the last.
“Do you deserve to win the Balon D’or!?”
“Why are you still taking the penalties!?”
“Alexia, how does it feel to let the team down again!?”
Little by little, the two of you manage to navigate through the crowded Riera Baixa street and make it to the front door of your apartment building. With a hand on your back, Alexia helps you get inside first as the reporters grow more and more aggressive. With force, Alexia closes the door behind her.
You can still hear their muffled voices coming from outside, but with the reporters now out of sight, you allow yourself to let out a sigh of relief. Feeling overwhelmed, you lean your back against the wall and slide down to the floor. Alexia kneels next to you and wraps her arms around you. It seems like it’s now her turn to comfort you.
“I’m so sorry, mi amor,” she whispers, softly kissing your temple, “it won’t always be like this, I promise.” Alexia tries her best to comfort you with her words, but you fear nothing will relieve the pressure you feel in your chest.
By some miracle, Alexia manages to fall asleep despite everything that happened, but you suspect it might have something to do with playing a full 90 minutes of intense professional football. You on the other hand, are still awake. The thoughts running through your mind make it difficult for you to find rest. That, and all the reporters still camped outside your front door. Some have given up and left, but others seem to be more persistent.
Glancing at Alexia, you feel a tug in your heart. The time you have spent together has been nothing but magical. Her presence in your life has reintroduced love and hope to a heart that feared it would never feel those things again. But, despite making you the happiest you’ve been in a very, very long time, you fear she might have also introduced you to something you never sought to experience.
Fame.
___________________
You haven’t been able to step a foot inside the bookshop in days. Every time you dare to step out of your apartment, reporters jump out of their hiding spots and hound you with questions about Alexia, and about your relationship with her.
Even though you have not spoken a single word to them, the press somehow managed to find out everything about you. Alexia has warned you not to go on social media for a little while, at least until everything calms down a little. You should have listened to her because it would have saved you a lot of stress and discomfort.
There are hundreds of articles written about you, diving deep into your personal and professional life. Some are even dedicated to comparing you to all of Alexia’s ex-girlfriends to see where you rank next to them. The article that affected you the most was the one that exposed your long-term relationship with your ex, and questioned if you ended it in pursuit of Alexia and her fame.
So many lies written about you and you feel powerless to them all.
You’re at the kitchen table, wrapped in a blanket with a newspaper in your hands when Alexia walks in. Interested in what you’re reading, she makes her way to you and sighs when she reads the headline.
All You Need to Know about Alexia Putellas’s New Love
“I told you to not read these things,” she says, taking the newspaper from your hands and throwing it to the side.
You don’t put up much of a fight since you already read the article a hundred times. “I know, baby, but I can’t help it,” you argue, “one day nobody knows my name and the next they know everything about me.”
Alexia sits down at the seat next to you and reaches for your hand, “I understand, mi amor” she says, her thumb caressing your knuckles. “But I promise things will get better. They’ll get bored eventually and move on to the next thing. We just need to give it a little time.”
Biting down on the inside of your cheek, you have to suppress the little bit of frustration you feel at her words. You want to go outside and point at all the reporters still there and ask her if things will truly, ever get better. But you don’t. You don’t because you know Alexia is not to blamed for any of this as she is just as much of a victim as you are.
“How was training,” you ask, trying to shift your focus to literally anything else.
Alexia lets go of your hand and runs her fingers through her hair in frustration. “Horrendous,” she says.
After her penalty miss, Alexia has been all over the place. She has no trouble falling asleep but has struggled to sleep through the night. You’ve lost count of how many times she wakes up through the night, gasping for air, her hand on her beating heart.
Every night in her dreams, Alexia steps up to take an important penalty and she misses. Every time.
“Jona tells me I’m playing with too many voices in my head,” she says, “that I should stop listening to what the media is saying about me and just play my game.”
“Kind of like how you tell me to stop reading these articles,” you counter, glancing at the newspaper Alexia threw to the side, “but we both know it’s easier said than done.”
Realizing that the both of you needed to take some time and relax, you asked Alexia to join you for a bath and she agreed without much convincing needed. When all the voices get too loud and the words printed on the pages hurt a little too much, the two of you find in each other arms a peace and quiet you so desperately need.
In the bathtub, Alexia is lying back, using your chest as a pillow. Lulled by the warmth of the water and the comfort of each other’s bodies, neither of you have said much.
“One day it will be just you and me,” she says softly, breaking the silence, “no reporters following us around, no more articles. Just you and me.”
You tighten your hold on her just a little bit and lean down to leave a kiss on her shoulder. “One day,” you reply, but your words are not said with the same amount of confidence.
Alexia gives you no indication that she picked up on the uncertainty in your voice, but she also doesn’t say anything else.
___________________
“I think it’s safe for me to go out.”
Alexia joins you by the window and takes a peek. When she doesn’t see any reporters, she smiles. “Chocolate croissants?”
“Coming right up,” you say, a little surprised to actually hear some excitement in your voice.
For the first time in what seems like forever, you dare to step out onto Riera Baixa street. The reporters camped outside your apartment appear to have taken a break and therefore, have allowed you to try and go back to your normal life. Things are different, however. Before you walked the street with no care in the world, now, you have to walk with caution and always be on the alert.
When you walk inside the pastry shop, however, you’re reminded that your life is anything but normal. Emma is working today and you hear her voice call out to you, but you can’t make our her words though the white noise and the muffled sound of your heart beating rapidly in your chest.
Your trembling hands reach for the newspaper and you read the headline to yourself.
“Dating a Football Player is Good for Business.”
The article goes into depth about the bookstore and its financials. How they managed to get this information, you don’t know. The article reveals that the bookshop barely makes a profit and clearly implies that you’re using Alexia to bring attention to the store. Their evidence? The insane number of followers the store has gotten since your relationship with Alexia was made public.
Crumbling the newspaper in your hands, you walk out of the pastry shop without even bothering to pay for it. While there are no reporters around, the familiar faces of Riera Baixa all give you a second glance and some don’t bother to lower their voices as they gossip.
“Maybe that girlfriend of hers will visit our shop and get us some attention,” someone says and it takes everything in you not to turn around and give them a piece of your mind.
The first thing Alexia notices when you walk inside is that there are no chocolate croissants in your hands. Then the newspaper and the look on your face. “What happened?” she asks, concern in her voice.
Without a word, you drop the crumbled newspaper on the kitchen table and then walk to the sofa, where you sit down with your knees tucked close to your chest.
Just like you, Alexia sees red when she reads the article. Instead of crumbling the newspaper, she shreds it to pieces with her hands.
Alexia joins you on the sofa, her hand reaches out to comfort you but you pull back from her touch. It breaks your heart to do so, but you’re just not sure you can keep going on living like this. No longer do you feel safe in your home. The street that you have grown up in and have dedicated your life to, no longer seems to welcome you. Everything you once held dear has turned its back on you.
“I can’t do this anymore,” you say, feeling that familiar lump forming in the back of your throat. “This is all too much for me, Ale,” Your words are directed at her, but you don’t have the strength to look her in the eye. “You make me so happy; you really do. But I can’t take another day of lies being written about me. Tired of not being able to work… of not being able to live.”
Alexia tries to reach out to you again but hesitates, “baby, please, look at me.”
The look in her eyes shatters your heart into a million little pieces. Alexia knows you have reached your breaking point and that means she’s on the verge of losing you — if she hasn’t lost you already.
“What they said about you is horrible, but mi amor, I know the truth. We know the truth and that’s all that matters.”
You shake your head slowly, “but it’s not enough.”
Alexia leans back, visibly hurt by your words. The realization that she has indeed lost you washes over her, and you force yourself to look away once again. Alexia doesn’t say anything else and gets up to walk to your bedroom.
From the sofa, you hear her open the drawers and pack up her belongings. You fight the tears for as long as you can, but it’s a fight you never had a chance at winning.
Her footsteps draw closer and then stop in front of you. Still, you can’t look her in the eyes.
“You pushed me away once and I came back for you,” she says, “if you let me walk out this door, don’t expect me to come back again.”
When you don’t say anything in return, she looks down and nods. “If you focus on the media and their lies, you’ll never see the truth. And the truth is that at the end of the day,” she sighs, her voice soft, “I’m just a girl, standing in front of another girl, asking you to love her. That’s all.”
With that said, Alexia slings the duffel bag over her shoulder and makes her way to the front door. She doesn’t open it right away, like she’s hoping you’ll stop her.
But you don’t.
You let her walk out of your life.
___________________
“Do you think I made the right decision?”
Anna takes a moment to think, having just been told about your breakup with Alexia. “Um, well,” she says, tilting her head to the side, “yeah… I mean, all the reporters and all that ugly stuff written about you, it had to stop, right?”
You nod your head, relieved your friend understands why you had to make such a difficult and heartbreaking decision. “It was never going to end,” you say with a sigh, finding a little happiness again in restocking the shelves with the new books that arrived while you were locked away in your apartment.
Anna hums in agreement, but you fail to notice the hint of doubt in her eyes. Behind your back, she pulls out her phone and sends a quick text to someone.
A little while later the bell announces a new visitor, and you don’t have to turn around to know who it is. The smell of coffee and of fresh baked pastries are big hints, but it’s the goofy smile on Anna’s face that confirms your suspicions.
Anna’s crush, Emma, walks to the desk with coffee and a bag with croissants in her hands. “I was told there was an emergency,” she says, a teasing smile on her lips.
You appreciate their effort to make you feel better, but they just doesn’t know that chocolate croissants will forever remind you of Alexia.
“Our girl is feeling a little down, that’s all,” Anna says, walking over to Emma and giving her a quick peck on the cheek.
Emma gives you a little pout, “did something happen?” she asks with genuine concern.
Taking a deep breath, you walk towards the counter and take the cup of coffee in your hand, feeling the warmth radiating from the cup. “I ended things with Alexia,” you tell her, taking a sip of the coffee.
Anna and Emma exchange a look, a conversation taking place between them with just their eyes.
“Bad breakup?” Emma asks but seems to immediately regret it, “sorry, you don’t have to answer that.”
“No, it’s alright,” you tell her, leaning against the very same bookshelf Alexia kissed you against that night. “I just told her I couldn’t take it anymore. You know, all the attention that comes with being with her.”
“How did she react?” Emma asks.
Your chest rises and falls with a deep sigh, “she packed her bag with what she had in my apartment and left.”
You’re about to take another sip when you remember what Alexia said before leaving, “she wanted me to know that if I just focused on the reporters and all that craziness, that I would fail to see that she was just a girl, standing in front of another girl… asking me to love her.”
Anna stops mid-bite into her croissant and looks at you with her eyes wide open, “You didn’t tell me that part.”
You look back and forth between Anna and Emma and quickly, very quickly, realize you’ve made the biggest mistake of your life.
“I fucked up, didn’t I?” you ask despite already knowing the answer.
They nod in unison.
With your coffee back on the desk, you start to pace the room with your hair in your hands. “How could I have been so stupid!?”
Once again, you allowed your fear of change to control your life. For so long you’ve lied to yourself, thinking that letting your ex walk away was ultimately for the best. But at the end of the day, all she wanted was a change of scenery. There was no doubt in her mind that the love you shared would flourish anywhere. And yet, you pushed her away. You tricked yourself into believing you were the victim but really, you were the one to break her heart. And now, you have made the same mistake with Alexia.
While you’re lost in your thoughts, Anna and Emma have their faces buried in their phones.
“Chicas, what do I do!?” you ask them, fearing that you just might be too late.
“We’re checking Twitter,” Anna says, scrolling through the app with a serious determination.
Emma looks up from the phone, “the team bus hasn’t left yet for the airport,” she announces, “it’s a little dramatic and will bring you more attention than you probably want, but I think desperate times call for desperate measures.”
“I don’t care about causing a scene,” you tell her, surprised by how confident you sound, “I’ll deal with the cameras. I just want her back.”
Anna and Emma both nod and spring to action.
“I’ll get the keys. Em, take her to the car,” Anna says, running to the backroom to get the car keys.
The three of you jump in Anna’s car with only one goal in mind: get to Alexia before it’s too late. It’s important you get to her before she leaves because one, you need to apologize for pushing her away. And two, you need to calm the thoughts that are more than likely driving her crazy.
“Buckle in everyone, today feels like a great day to lose my license,” Anna says, shifting the car in gear.
The car screeches out into the street and the engine revs as it speeds away. Maneuvering through the streets of Barcelona, your body gets thrown to the side with every turn Anna takes. You’re a little concerned at the speed, but you don’t dare to ask to her slow down.
The car comes to a halt in front of a red light and Anna taps the steering wheel in frustration. “come on… come on…” she says to herself.
As soon as the light turns green, Anna slams her foot on the pedal leaving clouds of rubber dust behind. She earns herself a few honks from the nearby drivers and when you glance back, a few middle fingers too.
In the back of the car, you’re lost in thought trying to figure out what you’re going to say to Alexia when you see her. So lost in thought that you failed to spot the familiar Bluagrana colors in the distance, moving further and further away from you by the second.
“There it is!” Emma screams out, pointing at the bus.
Staring at all the traffic up ahead, Anna grips the steering wheel and takes in a deep breath, “my time to shine.”
Emma glances back at you with a little fear in her eyes and there’s no doubt she sees the same in yours.
Anna expertly weaves the car in and out of the chocked line of traffic. A few cars swerve out of the way when they see Anna coming up behind them, earning her more honks and a few more offensive gestures. Miraculously, Anna manages to come up right up alongside the bus and repeatedly taps the horn to get the drivers attention. When the bus doesn’t slow down, Anna accelerates in an attempt to get in front of it.
“Anna, please remember that’s a bus full of professional athletes,” Emma warns her.
Anna nods, determined, “I got this.”
The bus driver, finally realizing there’s a maniac driving next to them, starts to slow down a little bit. This gives Anna the opportunity to pass the bus and get in front of it. The car starts slowing down and the bus driver has no choice but to also slow down and come to a stop.
“It’s go time, Y/N! Go get your girl,” Emma says, looking back at you and giving you two thumbs up.
You want to throw up. You’re not sure if it’s because of the nerves or because of Anna’s driving, but there’s a concerning feeling in the pit of you stomach. But, you know there’s no time to lose so push it out of your mind.
“Thank you, Annie,” you lean into the driver’s seat and give her a kiss on the cheek, “you’re the best!”
Just about you’re close the car door behind you, you hear Anna say, “and they say lesbians can’t drive.”
With the team bus stopped in the middle of a busy street, it’s no surprise a crowd has started to gather around it.
“Alexia!” you scream out, hoping she’ll hear you from the inside. If your face hadn’t been plastered all over the news these past few weeks, people would assume you’re a lunatic fan chasing after Alexia.
Instead, you’re just a girl fighting to win back the love of her life.
“Alexia! It’s me!”
You start to make your way around the bus, hoping you’ll see her sitting by one of the windows. Unfortunately, the glass is so tinted that you can barely see inside.
The sound of the bus door opening gets your attention, and you turn around to see Alexia peeking outside.
“Ale!” you say, running to her.
Alexia looks around, confused. “What’s going on?” she asks, “what are you doing here?” and you can hear the unmistakable hurt in her voice.
“I’m here for you.”
Now that you’re both standing outside, people have started to take out their cameras to capture the moment. You can see them from the corner of your eye, but you pay them no mind. You only have eyes for Alexia.
“Baby, I’m so, so sorry,” you plead, reaching for her hands but she keeps them tucked to her side, “I made a huge mistake. I was so scared, and I acted like a huge idiot. The day you walked into the bookshop; you changed my life. For so long I’ve been so afraid of change. I’ve resisted it like you wouldn’t believe. But I’m done being afraid, mi amor.”
You reach for her hand again and this time, she allows you to.
“I’ll take it all to be with you, the good and the bad. Let them write whatever they want, I don’t care,” you take a step closer, your other hand reaching up to caress her cheek, “you were right, baby, you were so right. All that matters is that we know the truth, that you know the truth,” you pause, a small smile tugging on your lips, “and the truth is that I’m so deeply and madly in love with you.”
Alexia looks around, seeing more and more people with phones in their hands all directly pointed at you. And yet, you don’t seem to care at all. There’s no doubt this little scene will be all over the news, but again, you don’t care.
“Are you sure you want all of this to be your life?” she asks, giving you one last chance to back out.
You nod without hesitation, “As long as you’re in it.”
Alexia looks deeply into your eyes, trying to find even a hint of doubt but she sees none. Out in the middle of the street, with the entire world watching, the two of you stand there. No words. No movement. No sound but a million words being said through locked eyes.
Alexia reaches up for your face with both hands and brings your lips to hers with urgency. She kisses you in front of everyone, as if though you are the only two people in the world and that’s exactly how it feels. It’s a kiss that takes your breath away and makes your heart soar.
Dazed, you open your eyes when Alexia reluctantly releases you. All around you, people clap and whistle.
“I hate to interrupt you two lovebirds,” a voice calls out, and you look behind Alexia to see her manager, Jona, outside the bus, “but we have a plane to catch.”
Alexia nods back at him but you have a feeling that if it were up to her, she wouldn’t be going anywhere.
You take her face in her your hands, “listen to me, Putellas,” a serious tone in your voice, “you are the best football player in the world, do you hear me? We all make mistakes but you should never let them define you. Those penalties mean nothing, Ale. Ballon D’or or no Ballon D’ D’or, it will not tarnish your legacy. So, I want you to walk out onto that pitch with your head held high, and kick some ass.”
Your words seem to resonate deeply with her because she pulls her shoulders back and nods her head with a new, fierce determination in her eyes.
“And you’ll be here when I come back?” she asks.
“No matter what.”
___________________
With Anna and Emma by your side, you watched Alexia take the free kick that guaranteed Barça’s spot in the final. While they jumped up and down in each other’s arms, your eyes remained glued to the screen. Alexia celebrated the goal with so much passion, unleashing all the frustration and anger that has plagued her for so long. But, as her teammates started to return to their positions, Alexia pointed at one of the cameras and formed a heart with her hands. A message for you.
Barça went on to win the final and you got to watch the love of your life, and the captain of the greatest football club in all of Europe, lift the Champions League trophy.
After the spectacle they witnessed when you proclaimed your love for Alexia to the entire world, reporters follow the two of you everywhere you go. While it certainly has not been easy to get used to, you find comfort in Alexia’s touch. When she senses you’re feeling overwhelmed, she whispers, I love you, in your ear and reminds you of what is really important.
Like now, you’re sitting in a limousine about to walk your first ever red carpet. Alexia is by your side, confident, with no hint of nerves on her features.
“You ready, mi amor?” she asks, her face illuminated by the flashing cameras that wait for her outside.
“I’m ready.”
The door opens and the fans explode in a roar when they get their first good look at Alexia. Winning the Champions League final only cemented her as the best football player in the world, and the entire world stands at attention in her presence.
Alexia leads you to the red carpet, not once ever letting go of your hand. You stand together, side by side, posing for pictures you know will be plastered on every newspaper and spread all over social media. And yet, you feel no fear or discomfort. All that matters to you is that light in Alexia’s eyes, and how it has continued to shine bright with you by her side.
“I’m happy you’re here,” she whispers in your ear, causing a blush to creep up on your cheeks.
“Nowhere else I’d rather be.”
When they call her name and announce her as the winner of the Ballon d'Or, you watch as the most prominent members of the football world all rise in her honor. The spotlight shines on her ethereal beauty and it makes your heart skip a beat. You fall in love with her all over again.
Right as she’s finishing up her speech, she looks down at where you are sitting and smiles at you with love in her eyes. “I love you,” she mouths, and blows a kiss in your direction.
A kiss you reach up to catch, and hold very dearly close to your heart.
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izgnanik-a · 3 months
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Suffer Does The Wolf (Crawling To Thee) iii
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Summary: Simon knew the exact moment when he knew he had to have you for himself. It was only a matter of time before his military skills allowed himself into your home, into your life. And once he stuck — he wasn’t going to let you back out of his webs.
Tags: non-con, stalker!Ghost, fem reader, mature content
MINORS DNI
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Simon didn't know what comes over him every time. He was a soldier for crying out loud. He's fallen into a chain of command that if his captain told him to shoot and kill, so be it.
He would.
But when it came to you, so delicate, and so god damned precious — he couldn't bring himself to form coherent sentences or replies. That was until the single message came in that made him drop everything and just stare — " do you want to grab a drink sometime? "
He was practically shaking with unadulterated joy.
It had been near a week since you gave him your number, and you’d text back and forth throughout. It was nothing major, just casual “ how are you doing’s? “ and “ I hope your day goes well “ and “ it’s going to rain today! “
You always initiated conversation. And you never seemed to mind, always smiling when he’d come by the days after and he’d get his coffee.
He felt a genuine connection, one he didn’t think he was capable of feeling in a long time. Sure — it was solely based off of wanting you for himself, but he knew that he could feel something with that emotion alone.
He would refuse to acknowledge it as a possessive obsession.
You didn’t see it that way, or else you wouldn’t have given him your number.
You’re not stupid. Well. Not that stupid. Maybe you shouldn’t have given him your number, but that was his whole ploy — he needed your number. He needed into your life.
As usual, he waited a moment before replying. The message bubbles appearing on your end of the screen, how could he be nonchalant but delighted to have your company? How could he translate that over the phone?
The message read “ ok “
Your message bubbles appeared. Disappeared. Appeared. Staggered in a constant blink. And gone.
Did he offend you? Did you change your mind because of his reply? Did you get busy at home? Did something happen to you?
Why didn’t you text him back?
He almost tore down all of his walls before your message came through. He was burrowing in his head when he rose to his feet and picked his cracked phone off the ground.
Your message read “ can’t wait! “
When he came into the cafe the next day you worked, his hands were shaking. He could hear your voice before seeing you, and when he did see you — oh, his heart was alight.
His eyes fanned down to your nail polish, that pale color still painted, the nail polish he’d given you was chipping at the edges. But still there.
He approached the line.
“This ain’t what I ordered.” Said a customer, gritting through his teeth at you.
You held your polite smile. “Okay, we can change that for you. What is it that you wanted to order?” Your tone was cheery.
Simon wanted to bash this guy’s skull in for you.
If you asked him to, he would.
“I was charged for a large when I wanted a medium, two espresso shots, cold foam, and no sugar. The fuck is this.” The customer pointed at the cup on the counter, no lid on it.
Simon clenched his jaw tightly.
“Hey, you’re holding up the line.” Said the customer between Simon and the rowdy customer.
“You wait your turn.” Growled the man.
“We can get you a refund and the correct drink if you step to the side.” You said politely. Your eyes grazed over the tops of the customer’s heads to Simon.
You held his eyes for a moment before fading back into reality.
“This isn’t the first time there’s been a mistake like this. I’m tired of getting the wrong coffee.”
“Then order it correctly.” Simon said.
The man turned to speak up but his eyes drew up at Simon. Compared to Simon, he was average. He clamped his mouth shut, collected his refunded money, and stepped aside.
The customer before Simon ordered quick and easy. Then it was Simon’s turn, and everything could turn to dust and he’d just be fixated on you.
You smiled up at him. “Hi.” You cooed.
Simon took in a deep breath. “Hi.”
“And what can I get for you, sir?” You teased.
“A drink? On me?” He cleared his throat, “Since you asked.”
You laughed softly and nodded, biting your lip softly. “Anything else?”
God — he could think of so many things.
“Medium black coffee.”
“And your name?” You still teased.
“Simon.”
“I could’ve sworn you looked like a John.”
Simon scoffed. “Yeah, well, can’t have randos knowing my name, can I?”
“Certainly not.” You rang him out and set his coffee on the counter before him. “I get out at eight today, if you’re not busy.”
“I’m not.” He practically rushed to say.
“Cool.” You smiled. “We can walk around the block to this restaurant / bar. It’s a good place for food.”
Simon nodded. “Okay.”
“Okay.” You smiled, blushing in the face. “See you later then?”
He nodded again.
“I gotta work so—“ you pointed to the line behind him.
“Right. Work.”
“But tonight—“
“Yeah.”
You waved your hand. “Text me.”
And Simon impatiently waited by the clock the entire time until then.
Do not copy my works and post elsewhere.
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retrogamingblog2 · 2 years
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Custom Nintendo Switch Systems made by CBcustoms
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ladylooch · 2 months
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Take What You Need - [Mack X David]
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A/N: Idk if you all are ready. But here we are. I would like to thank Starbucks for their gracious hosting of me while my internet tried to cockblock Mack and David harder than Lucie and Con. And I would like to thank my vanilla oat milk latte for helping me power through. Also, I can’t post this without thanking the bestest of the besties @casualhilarity. I’d be lost in this world without you 😭 This one is for you!
Enjoy 6.7k words of Mackenzie Hischier and David Carlson finally giving in.
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Mack’s eye open as the wheels of the Airbus A340-300 slap down on the tarmac at JFK. The roar from the massive plane breaking on the asphalt roars through her audiobook as she blinks away her dreamless sleep. 
“On behalf of our flight crew at Swiss Air, we are excited to be the first ones to welcome you to New York City…”
Mack stretches her neck, looking over at the woman next to her, still engrossed with her book. To the left, Mack can see the skyline outlining the metropolis she calls home for now. Her eyes scan over the buildings as she bites her lip.
Good to be home, she murmurs internally. 
Good to be back in the place she went running from two weeks ago. 
14 days ago to the day, she laid awake at Lucie’s unable to stop thinking about the mustached man tucked away in his apartment. She kept tossing and turning, trying to decide what she wanted to do with David Carlson and his insistent proposition. When no clear decision came to her, Mack did what she does best and dove into work. An opportunity had been in her inbox in the morning and she jumped to take it. It just happened to be in Switzerland. Perplexingly, Mack hasn’t heard from David since that night either. No cheeky texts. No general inquires. Nothing. Nt even when she has been missing from Stella’s dance recital. Mack had talked to Lucie a few days ago, but she didn’t bring up David or if he was asking about her either. 
Fine. She didn’t care anyway. I guess that tells her more about her answer than any forced proximity or space would. She isn’t interested. Next time she sees him, her answer will be a firm and resounding no.
“Ms. Hischier, always a joy to have you on board.” One of the pilots, Bruno, nods in greeting when Mack gets to the plane door. “We hope to see you again soon on Swiss Air.” This personal treatment always happens on this airline, dating back to when she was a kid and her dad had a partnership deal with them. She remembers getting a pair of clip on wings every flight to and from Switzerland while hanging from her mom’s hand. 
“I’m sure you will.” She jokes. “Thanks for the smooth flight.” 
Mack turns out of the plane, ready to begin her long journey home. She glides through customs easily with her global entry and dual citizenship, thanks mom and dad, then rushes to grab her bag from the baggage carousel. When she finds the sleek black case, she hoists it off. With the wheels spinning next to her, she hails a cab, then nestles in for her ride home. She tips the driver, then smiles at Ron, her doorman, coming down the stairs to open the door for her.
“Back sooner than usual, Ms. Hischier.” Ron greets her.
“Work trip, so not much family time.” She is more than capable of carrying her bag up the stairs, but every time he insists for her. He grabs the door, twirling the handle of her suitcase back to her.
“You should stop by the desk before you head up. There is a delivery for you.” The delivery in question is visible from the door. A beautiful vase of hydrangeas, roses and lilies in various shades of pink has a card peaking out from the top. She knows who they are from before she even reads the note. 
Sorry we missed you, Mackie! Hope these brighten your other home for you. We love you! 
See you next month. Love, Mom and Dad.
Mack smiles, snapping a picture and sending it off to the two people she didn’t get to see when she was home. Lexi and Nico had a pre-scheduled Mediterranean vacation. They tried to come home early when they heard she was in Switzerland. Mack had thrown a fit, insisting they couldn’t possibly change plans because of her. Her parents rarely get time away from Switzerland. The would surly be in New York again soon to visit. She would see them, apparently, in a month.
Tiredly, Mack goes upstairs, unlocking her apartment and falling into bed face down. She curls into her pillow, the sheets she washed before she left. She knows she should get up, not give in to the sleep whispering seductively in her brain, but she can’t help it. Her bed is too welcoming. She falls asleep curled into a comma on top of her comforter. it is dark outside when she wakes up.
“Shit.” She moans to herself, smacking her face with her palm. She is going to be up all night. She grabs her phone, scanning through her texts. There is one from her parents, a picture of them drinking umbrella drinks on a rooftop overlooking the sea. The others are from her older sister, asking if she is still coming over for dinner tonight.
I hate when you do this 🙄 Tacos are at 6. Let me know if you aren’t coming so I don’t worry.
Sorry, I fell asleep. I’m on my way.
It’s 5:38. She should be able to make it on time for dinner.
When Mack walks out of the elevator on Connor and Lucie’s floor, her heart begins to pound excitedly at the person standing outside of their door. Stella Wood is wrapped around David’s leg, begging him not to go. All the pretending that Mack doesn’t want the man in front of her evaporates. As if she hasn’t been gone for two weeks, Mack’s internal turmoil begins to churn where it left off. She longs to touch him even with the knowledge that they can’t be so forward about such things in front of present company. If they were alone, she would run her fingers through his black hair and lean in slightly to kiss him, knowing he would go most of the way of her.
“Stelly, I gotta. I’m meeting a friend.” David pats the young girl’s hair lovingly with his palm.
“You’re so secretive about this friend.” Connor jokes as Mack gets closer. Her stomach tightens then swirls. The recklessness of such a reaction has Mack’s steps faltering. Friend? What friend. David and Connor glance over to Mack as they hear her footsteps swipe along the carpet. David grins at her, making Mack’s chest even tighter.
“Welcome home.” David murmurs as she comes to a stop to his right. He looks so handsome and sexy. He is dressed in a pair of nice, worn in jeans. There is a bulge in his back pocket where his wallet rests. A dark wool coat drapes over his big shoulders while underneath is a waffled, cream sweater. On his feet brown dress boots are tied tightly, looking new and rarely worn.
“Thanks.” 
“You fell asleep?” Connor asks.
“Yeah.”
“You’re fucked.”
“Yeah, I know. I travel internationally more than you, bud.” She pats Connor’s arm as she walks between the boys and into the apartment. Mack withstands the urge to inhale David’s scent as she does.
“That is why she is my least favorite sister in law.” Connor jokes to David.
“Ha-ha.” Mack shoves Connor’s ass with her Ugg boot. 
“So who is this friend?” Connor asks David again, clearly not wanting to let it go. Mack glances at David who is staring beyond his teammate at her.
“Just a friend from home.” He says. He licks his lips, then pulls his gaze off Mack as she walks away to say hi to her niece. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Bye, David! Keep my husband in line on the road!” Lucie yells from the kitchen.
“Luc, I don’t think you know what you ask of me.” David calls back to her.
“Dude.” Connor snaps, slapping David’s stomach. “Tell her the truth.”
“He is lame as hell.” David confirms.
“Yeah, baby, I’m lame as hell.” Connor repeats.
“I’m sure you are.” Lucie nods. David tosses another wave to the group then leaves. Slight disappointment, scratches at Mack’s eyes. “Hi Mackie.” Lucie opens her arms for her sister. Mack curls into her, wanting to lay on her shoulder for a minute. “Oh, she so sleepy. Did you miss mom and dad on your trip? Apparently they are in Greece?” Lucie pets her hair for a moment.
“Yeah, I missed them by a day.”
“Mack.” Lucie rolls her eyes. “You could have stayed another day to say hi.”
“I could have.” Mack nods, reaching into the shredded cheese bowl and grabbing a pinch to eat. “But I know they’ll be here soon anyway. Apparently in a month?”
“You and I are not the same.”
“Nope.” Mack sighs. “Do you need help?”
“Can you bring all the toppings to the table?” Mack nods. “Stell, please go wash your hands. Bring your daddy too!” 
The rest of the night is spent munching on tacos, talking about Mack’s travel, and Connor’s upcoming road trip. Then they each have a homemade cookie, ice cream sandwich, with sprinkles wrapped around the ice cream filling. Lucie made them and wants everyone’s honest feedback. They all agree, even picky Stella, they are a 10! 
“Is David back from his date yet? He should come try one.”
“He says it wasn’t a date.” Connor shrugs.
“Then why is he so weird about who it was with?”
“I don’t know. He is kinda weird about his Iowa life.” Connor mumbles. “Probably because big city women don’t get it.” 
“I apologized.” Mack snips. 
“He really appreciated it.” Connor says sincerely. Mack knows that. She can still feel his lips on hers weeks later. “I’ll text him babe.” Connor says to Lucie. “What do you want to watch?”
“You two pick. I’m going to get Stell ready for bed.”
Mack takes the remote from Connor, who seems more interested in watching reels to pick an actual movie or show to watch. A knock sounds at the door as she is reading the summary of a documentary on the Ocean.
“No, I don’t wanna learn.” Connor instantly nixes what is on the screen as he stands up.
“You’ve never learned a thing in your life.” Mack snorts. Connor opens the door. 
“See.. this… right here, Mack.” He snaps her fingers to get her attention. She looks over her shoulder, then startles a bit at seeing David with a 12 pack of Modelo. “This is a good friend.”
“Cause he brings beer?” Mack laughs. “Your standards are impossibly low, Wood.” 
“And yet I bagged your sister.”
“Yes, because her standards are impossibly low.” 
“Says the girl no one is good enough for.” David murmurs, then drops a bottle of beer over her right shoulder. 
“I need a bottle opener.” David takes the bottle back, cracks the top open with the ring on his right hand, then hands it back to her. “Here, princess.” He is in a mood. Mack furrows her eyebrows, watching as he plops down on the couch next to her. He tips the bottle back, gluing down half of it.
“Dude, what is up?” Connor asks, sensing the angst in his teammate like Mack.
“Dinner didn’t go well.” 
“She wouldn’t come back to your place?” Connor moves into the kitchen with the rest of the beer.
“It wasn’t with a she.” David rolls his eyes. “It was with my shithead brother.”
“Which one?”
“Exactly.” David scoffs, slumping down more on the couch. He widens his thighs farther apart, jiggling his left foot anxiously. Connor continues to put beer away in the fridge. Mack observes David’s down posture, hating the way he looks so frustrated and deflated. 
“What happened?” She asks quietly to David. He turns to look at her. His eyes scour over her face, almost like he is trying to decide if he trusts her. Then he sighs and looks away.
“He asked me for money. And a lawyer. That’s all he ever wants from me.” He mutters, shaking his head again. Mack remembers her conversation with Lucie in the bathroom before the mentor’s trip. How his brothers both have significant issues and use David for what they want.
“I’m sorry.” She says sincerely, a deep frown pulling her mouth down. He looks over at her again, licking his lips. Lucie calls Connor from Stella’s room. Mack and David are quiet as he goes to join his girls down the hall.
“You go to Switzerland to get out of giving me an answer?” David immediately changes the subject when Connor is gone.
“No.” She answers anxiously. Neither of them are convinced.
“Blink if it’s yes.” He grins at her.
“Oh shut up.” She rolls her eyes, pushing his thigh with her foot. He captures it in his hand, holding it hostage. His fingers on her has her heartbeat pounding in her ribs. So much for firmly saying no to this man. God, what is happening to her? 
“Don’t blink, baby.” His voice lowers, getting husky around the edges as he devours her with his eyes. That’s what is happening to her. His pull is too strong for her to overcome. Mack’s lashes flutter from the heat and need she instantly feels building in her core 
“Mackncheeeee.” He sing-songs, holding the vowel at the end of her nickname. He leans over and nips right behind her ear. 
“Oh my god.” She startles, then shoves him back into his spot. The both notice how her fingers stay curled into his cream sweater, like she can’t decide if she wants him to stay there or pull him back over to her. One by one, she releases them, then puts her hand on her own chest.
“I’m going to make an excuse to leave and go back to my place. Meet me down there.” He reaches out, cupping her cheek. Mack turns into his touch. This lingering decision cannot be put off any more. Her eyes hesitantly reach his. He wants her. His green eyes burn with liquified fire for her. Mack chews her bottom lip as David finish his beer, then stands. He tosses his bottle in the recycling bin, then goes down to say goodbye to Connor and Lucie. He goes back to the freezer, grabbing an ice cream sandwich that Mack is sure Lucie insisted he needed to take.
He comes into the living room again, stroking along Mack’s cheek before he teases her lips with his. His thumb traces down the center of her throat as their eyes stare. Then, without any confirmation that she is coming, David leaves. Mack’s whole body stays still. She tentatively breathes, mind running a million miles an hour. She closes her eyes, swallowing hard, then opens them when Lucie and Connor come down the hall together. 
“What are we watching?” Her sister wonders.
“Um, I actually have to go.”
“Oh, are you okay?” Lucie asks. Mack nods her head.
“Do you need some water or-”
“No. I just need to go.” Mack insists, standing up.
“Are you okay to go by yourself? Connor, walk her-“
“No. I’m good.” Mack nods, then gives a faint smile. 
After rushed goodbyes, Mack’s back hits the steel of the elevator. The box descends. She waits for the door to open on David’s floor. She pauses in the doorway, licking her lips, so nervous for what she is about to do. Then she shakes her head, turning to the left, walking down to the one with the 4 numbers of his unit beside it. She stares at the grey door, imagining him tucked behind it, waiting for her. A shiver of pleasure zig-zags from her scalp to her toes. She raises her hand and knocks. His soft footsteps come closer to the door. She looks down at her boots. The lock flips. She raises her gaze and meets his head on. 
David slowly opens the door, then leans his shoulder against it. He cocks an eyebrow at Mack. 
Leap! Her need roars. So she does.
“Yes.” She whispers. His second eyebrow dashes up, his mouth drops a little open. 
“Say it again.” He demands.
“Yes.” Mack says more forcefully, then she stuffs the last remaining shred of doubt down deep into her stomach for another time.
Mack shoves David back into his apartment with two palms on his chest. David barely gets the door shut behind her, their mouths attacking each other. As she pushes him farther back, he wraps his arms around her. Mack places his back against the opposite wall, near his living room. She loosens her grip now that she has the leverage of the wall.  David takes advantage of the opportunity to twirl her, then pin her against the wall with his hips. 
His hands slide down to grab her wrists, bringing them up by her head and pinning them there. She moans into his mouth. He loosens his grip in response, moving his hands around her waist again to eagerly pull her flush against him. She brings her hands to his hair and shoulder. His hands glide from her waist to connect with the backs of her thighs, hoisting her up. Mack clings to him like she did a few weeks ago, unable to get close enough to his heat.
They roll down the hallway to, presumably, his bedroom. Mack has never been here and as much as she wants to look around, she wants him to fuck her more. She reaches down, between their abdomens, rolling her hips back so it will fit. His hands on her ass dig in, wanting to keep her close. He lowers her a bit, letting the apex of her thighs hit the hard erection she was working towards. Mack shudders at how large he feels. She knows, without even seeing it, he will be the biggest she has ever had. David must sense her hesitation.
“I’ll make it good, honey. I know how to use it.” He murmurs. His tone is the sexiest and sweetest elixir of temptation. 
Into his bedroom, David strides. Mack pulls back from him, looking down at his face. He smiles at her. She smiles back, then purses her lips, feeling excited flutters assault the walls of her stomach. His palms let her legs slide down until her feet touch the floor again. She steps to the left, he turns to follow her, his back towards the bed. She forces him down, standing triumphantly between his spread thighs. Teasingly, she pulls her shirt up over her head, leaving her in the lace bralette she put on just in case. David’s green eyes feast on her as she loses that too. It falls to the floor. She pauses, nodding at him to take something off. He sheds his sweater fast, exposing an incredible body, taut from hockey and farming. Fuck, he is so hot. It makes Mack’s brain dizzy and her pussy clench around a frustrating emptiness.
David’s fingers wander to the belt on his jeans, opening it up. He pops the button and zipper down too, almost looking relieved to not have his dick confined so tightly anymore. He lifts his hips, working them to his ankles. Mack leans forward, putting a palm on his abdomen, scraping her nails down the hard ridges until she gets to the Calvin Klein waistband. Her fingers grip the white elastic, then tug. She watches with glittering eyes as his cock springs free. She inhales heavily. David watches her with such intensity, like he can know every thought of hers if he doesn't take his eyes off her face. She bites her lip, swarming butterflies filling her stomach with anticipation of having him buried deep inside of her soaked core. Her pussy flutters again then she backs up as David sits up. HE presses his mouth to her abdomen.
“Wanna see you.” He murmurs, grabbing the waistband of her leggings and tugging down. He brings her panties with, practically sneering at the wet trail down Mack’s thighs from how drenched she is. “So wet for me.” He mumbles. “Been wondering how you taste here.” 
His fingers slide through insistently, confidently, like he’s been there hundreds of times. Mack can’t help but wondering if he has in his mind. All the times he touched himself to the thought of her. She spreads her thighs wider, swaying forward when he rolls her clit once. David’s hand goes around to her back and he forces her more forward until she falls. Her palms hit the bed, catching her momentum as he explores her folds with his more dominant hand.
His fingers play with her slickness, gathering more from her entrance and spreading it against her clit. Mack moans urgently. David grabs the back of her thigh, then glides his fingers down to her knee, lifting. He maneuvers out from between her legs, then gets on his knees behind her. Mack’s eyebrows furrow, she is about to ask him where he is going with this when she feels his mouth against her folds. She jolts forward. He brings a hand up to her hip to steady her. Mack arches into his tongue swimming through her folds, on it’s way to her clit.
“Holy.” Mack squeaks. This is far from Mack’s first time, but the way he sucks her clit brings new sensations to her core. She falls a bit more forward, gripping the sheets in front of her. “Oh…” She says again. She starts saying words before she even has time to think of them, completely uninhibited squeals streaming from her lips. 
David devours her pussy like it’s his favorite meal and he’s been starved for days. His tongue does a majority or the stroking and building. Then he goes in for the kill, sucking her sensitive bud into his mouth, rolling and prodding, until Mack’s legs and arms start to shake. She comes hard, wetness dripping down from her entrance and collecting on his chin. In thirty seconds, he has ripped her first orgasm from deep in her core. 
Mack blinks rapidly, trying to catch her breath. She looks down at her hands fisting the comforter, trying to release them but she can’t. That’s when she realizes she is still coming. She jolts against his face again. His nose bumps her clit as he kisses his way out from between her thighs.
Once will not be enough with him. Any hope of that is dashed.
“You taste so good for me.” He murmurs. “Sweet and desperate. You been desperate for me, Mack?” She swallows hard, closing her eyes and nodding. “Never thought I’d see you speechless.”
“I-I- Oh.” She finished with a profound moan as he glides a finger into her entrance. She clenches around it desperately. 
“Need me so bad, huh, honey? Need this cock to split you open?” His filthy words has her collapsing forward, losing the battle of staying upright. David taps her hip. “Lay on your back.” Mack rolls compliantly. He climbs onto the bed beside her, long hard cock bouncing with each of his movements. Mack reaches for it.
“Not yet. Trust me, baby.” He murmurs, leaning down to kiss her. She can taste herself on him, melting into the bed as he swipes along her right nipple. His lips coast along hers, dropping lazy and wet smooches. Mack moans loudly as his fingers glide over her soaked folds, rolling her clit gently, careful not to overstimulate her, then fills her entrance with them. “Those skinny Swiss boys you hook up with make you feel like this? Heard that’s your type.”
“No.” Mack chokes.
“Didn’t think so. You need to be fucked by a real man.” He lays on his side next to her, playing between her legs like he has all day to pleasure her. “Didn’t think I could take care of you babe?” He stuffs a third finger in. Mack gasps, feeling the stretch. “This is how big I am.” He coos to her. Mack gets wetter, they both feel it. He grins, kissing her neck. “My needy girl. Show me you can take this cock.” He begins thrusting harder into her. Mack’s hips shift up, searching for more. He stretches his fingers, then curls the pad of his middle one up to circle her velvet button.
“C-close, Davi-d…”
“Yeah you fucking are. Let go for me, honey.” Mack’s whole body tenses, legs shaking violently on his sheets.
“Oh fuck.” Mack groans, jolting forward as a second, harder orgasm grips her. She turns on her hip towards David, thrusting down onto his hand. Her thigh hits his hip. He pulls her close. She can feel his dick against her other leg as she shakes. Her whole body seems to grip his fingers, pulling them deeper.
“That’s it, baby. Use me. Take what you need.” Mack groans as she goes limp when her orgasm completely releases. Her limbs have turned to gelatin. She no longer can speak, barely breathing, and he hasn’t even put himself inside of her yet. While Mack recovers, David kisses along her face for a few more moments, taking the limited breath she is capable of breathing right now. Then he rolls away from her. Mack closes her eyes, trying to refocus. 
David reaches to his bedside table. He grabs a foiled condom, tearing it open with his teeth before rolling it down his shaft. Mack watches, lip folded between her teeth. He didn’t even ask. He just did it out of respect for her, not putting her in the awkward position to say yes and then watch how disappointed he is at her answer. At least in her previous experience.
“Ready for one last ride, baby?”
“Wha-?”
Suddenly, David has her on top of him. She looks down anxiously, feeling how unsteady her legs and core already are. Her muscles still shake. There is no way she has the strength for this. 
“David, I can’t…” 
“Shhhhh baby, you think I’m gonna make you work now?” He chuckles lowly at her confusion, plants his feet flat on the mattress and grips her hips in both hands, “I got you baby.”
He glides her carefully down his cock. The stretch is a pinch, even with his fingers preparing her, it stings for a few moments. He rocks her forward and back, getting her comfortable, watching her face. Her moan croaks from her chest when the pinch turns to raw pleasure. Mack jolts forward as David thrusts up into her, hands scrabbling on his chest to hold herself up as he fucks deep up inside her, hitting her spot with every thrust.
“Oh, oh, oh, oh.” Mack hears herself moaning. “Oh fuck. Oh mygOD.” She cries out. “Don’t stop.” She bites down hard on his shoulder. David moans loudly at the pain.
“Feel so fucking good for me, Mackenzie. Such a good fucking girl, aren’t you? You like big cock, huh?”
“Yes! Yes!” Mack yells back. “David, I’m… oh shit…” Mack feels the creamy release of the most intense orgasm of her life slide down his latex wrapped shaft, collecting on his balls and making a mess between her thighs. David enjoys the feeling of her coming undone on his cock. She clenches down tighter. This spurs him on more as his jerky thrusts chase his own white hot release. He falls into it seconds later, turning his face into her hair, moaning her name desperately, holding her to him like she’s his only tie to this planet.
David reaches around Mack’s spent body. He grips the latex at the bottom of his shaft, then gently eases out of her. Mack whimpers at how empty she feels without him, pressing her face deeper into his neck. His head and shoulder lean down as an attempt to hug her head.
“You okay, pretty girl?” Mack nods, then kisses his throat. He hums in appreciation of her gesture. “I’m going to take care of this okay?”
“No. Not yet.” She whispers.
The second his skin moves from hers, reality is going to begin to descend- what they just did, how he made her feel, the things they said to each other. It’s going to be a cold bath of the truth Mack isn’t ready. She wants to stay here for hours until she can memorize every part of what they just experienced. David kisses her forehead, feathering his fingers over her spine.
This continues for several more minutes of quiet contentment. Then, when the reality of a leaking mess is close, he moves her to the side, off his chest. His hand runs the length of her body. After, he struts to the bathroom, holding the latex tight to his softening form.
Mack rolls to her back, trying to put words to what she feels. Before this moment, sex had always been so transactional. You help me, I help you. We feel someone else’s touch besides our own and go our separate ways. Never has it felt like that. She never craved sex before. She liked it, had fun plenty of times, but it was never an all consuming fuckfest focused on her pleasure.
Mack hears the shower turn on in the adjoining bathroom. Apparently he is a shower after sex kinda guy. For some reason, that really bothers Mack. She wants to go home smelling like him and he can’t wait to wash her off? She sits up, glancing around for her clothes. She avoids David’s gaze as he comes out of the bathroom. She is trying to decide how to get off the bed without smearing what is on her thighs across the sheets when David comes over, holding a hand out to her. She takes it and he pulls her up, putting an arm under her knees. He carries her into the bathroom then delicately puts her feet on the bath rug, mirroring before. He lets her test her weight on her legs. They both see how she is basically Ariel coming out of the sea for the first time, so he keeps an arm wrapped around her waist as he test the temperature of the water.
For once, Mack and David are quiet within each other’s presence. David washes her hair and skin, sudsing her up with no hidden agenda, taking care of her worn out body. She holds onto his back or hip or stomach the entire time, needing to be close to him as he attentively loves on her body. When they are both clean, David pulls her into his chest, turning so her back is hitting the steam, but her face remains out. He presses his mouth to the top of her head, swaying them gently. Mack could fall asleep right here with him in this warm and comfortable cocoon. 
“Done?” He murmurs a few moments later. Mack nods. They step out together. David wraps her up in a fluffy towel. “I don’t really… have any um, lotion or anything?” He says, but brings out what he does. She sees CeraVe daily moisturizer and figures that is enough for now. He watches her smooth it out on her cheeks. She holds up some extra on her fingers. 
“You need some?” 
“Mhm.” He murmurs, presenting his face at her. While she works it over his skin, he makes funny faces at her. She chuckles. His eyes are closed, so he uses her hips as a steadying anchor for him. 
“All done.” She tells him, rubbing the rest into her hands. 
“Am I as pretty as you now?” Mack blushes. 
“Close.” David nibbles at his mustache as he looks at her intently. Mack looks away, seeing so many emotions and words that it is too early to talk about. They walk together into his bedroom. Mack glances at her clothes again, then walks over to where her shirt is. 
“Don’t you dare. We sleep naked in this house.” The question hangs in the air. Is she staying? Or is she going? To both of their surprise, Mack drops the towel and gets back into the sheets they ruined earlier in the evening. David slides in next to her and without hesitation, pulls her into his arms. “Are you comfortable?” He asks her.
“I usually sleep on my right side.” She is currently on her left. She didn’t want to turn her back to him immediately, feeling that was rude. He lifts the covers so she can roll. She does, then nuzzles her bare backside into his bare front. She closes her eyes, feeling his cock stir against her still puffy lips. She is going to be sore in the morning.
David holds her tight to his chest. Mack trails her nails over his forearm, feeling the heaviness of her eyes. She thought she would be up all night. 
Luckily, David found the solution to her jet-lag.
- - - 
In her dream, Mack is wrapped up in a cozy blanket at her parents cabin in the Swiss mountains. The fireplace pops in front of her as she wiggles her way deeper into the warmth of the fluff. A bit of sweat is forming at her hairline, but the comfortable feeling outweighs everything else. Someone is under the blanket with her. She can’t tell who in her dream, but his light breathing tickles her hair as she looks out at the falling snow. 
Her eyes suddenly get lighter and pop open. Gone is the Swiss snow and in it’s please is a room she has never seen before. Was this the dream instead? She inhales, then stiffens in the heavy arms wrapped under and around her. What the-
“Don’t get weird on me, Hischier.” David mumbles sleepily behind her. The rush of memory crashes into her. Their lips and the desperation and the steamy connection. Mack gets warm instantly, inhaling heavily, but relaxes into his body. She brings her arm out of the covers, hoping to release some of the furnace under the blankets with them. Damn, he is burning hot behind her.
He runs his finger tips along her arm, easing forward to kiss her shoulder. Mack sighs, pressing her hips back into his. She can feel his sold length pressing into her cheeks, then the awareness of a dull ache between her legs. Despite that, her nipples tighten as David continues to gently stroke her skin. Her hips instinctively press back into him more, giving David all the approvals for a playful morning.
From her arm, his fingers glide across her chest, playing with each nipple until they are aching point, sending pleasureful need to her throbbing clit. His fingers work there way there soon. Mack spreads her legs eagerly for him, pressing down into his touch.
“You like helping.” He mumbles gruffly. His rough voice coated in sleep makes her wetter. She loves the idea of being the first thing he has in the morning.
David’s fingers continue their lazy wander, working her up. He alternates between thumbing her nipples and rolling her clit with two fingers. Then he does both, catching Mack’s head in his shoulder as she moans.
“Needed a real man to touch you, hmm? Never felt like this before have you? Practically coming the second I touch you.” She nods. Then he moves south, the pain of his finger tip circling her sore entrance is too much for her to work though.
“I-I’m too sore for that.” She murmurs regretfully. He backs off immediately.
“S’okay, honey. You’ll get used to me.” He kisses her neck softly. His fingers glide up her slickness to rest against her clit again. “This okay?” He asks. She nods eagerly. He rolls the pads over her, taking his time so he can memorize every curve and place that makes Mack press harder against his firm cock. He settles himself slightly between her cheeks, then rubs her to her morning bliss. She comes with a soft cry of his name, so much gentler than last night. He finishes her off with a kiss on the back of her neck. Her eyes are closed, but she brings her hand around to his hip, holding him while she recovers.
Mack feels more than hears David get out of bed. She turns, surprised.
“As much as I want to do that about three more times, I’ve gotta get going.” He tells her questioning look. He walks into the bathroom, shutting the door. When he comes back, Mack is waiting for an answer. “I’m heading to practice, then we are heading on the road immediately after.”
“Oh. Yeah.” She remembers. She lays back into her pillow, yawning.
“You even do that cute.” He chuckles. Mack smiles at him, but has to roll her eyes too. Now he’s just sucking up.
Mack watches him get ready, stuffing down the disappointment she feels at him disappearing from New York for a few days. She wants to ask him when he will be back, but she doesn’t want to appear desperate. Well, any more than she already has in the past 12 hours. After putting a suit on, he goes back into the bathroom then emerges with a travel bag. He tosses it into the duffle bag on a chair by the door, then zips it up. Mack can see the LV on the black leather from here. It surprises her. She wouldn’t pick David for a designer kind of guy. 
He comes over to her side of the bed, putting his palms on either side of her to lock her in place. She drinks him in, admiring the complimentary tailoring of his green suit. It makes his eyes look like exploding emeralds, especially in the morning light filtering in. His black tie swings down by her chest. She grips it, tugging him down inch by slow inch with the silky fabric.
“There is breakfast food in the fridge. Help yourself to whatever you want. I do have milk if you want some oatmeal.” He quips. “I’m sorry I can’t stay.” He goes the remaining distance without her help, kissing her. “Or bring you back to your place.”
“Most hook ups don’t do breakfast or drop offs.”
“Or sleep over.” He points out. He’s got Mack there. “You gonna hide from me when I get back?” Although his tone is light, there is a seriousness to his question.
“Maybe.” She smirks as she says it, wanting to keep this interaction light.
“Something tells me you’ll be back for more.” He moves his eyes down her body, drinking her in, all tangled up in his soft sheets. Mack rolls her eyes, ignoring how true that is. He burst apart her world and put it back together last night with him as the center of it.
“Something tells me you’ll still be interested even if I’m not.” She sits up, letting the blanket fall down to her lap, exposing her bare chest. He grins, leaning forward and tickling her nipple with his mustache. Mack breathes in deeply, then lets her head fall back towards the ceiling as he sucks it into his mouth. His nose traces over it too.
“I’ll see ya, honey.” He murmurs after kissing her breast tenderly. Then he stands up, full hard on displayed while he heads to his travel bag by the door. “I’ll leave the spare key on the counter for you.” He calls over his shoulder as he leaves the room.
“What? We are definitely not there yet.” Mack calls. He pops his head back in.
“No, but I’d appreciate it if you could lock my door when you leave.” Mack purses her lips together, dimples turning pink at her embarrassing assumption. She nods after clearing her throat awkwardly. 
“Yeah. I’ll do that.” 
“Thank you.” He murmurs, laughing heartily at her sheepish look.
Mack waits until she hears the apartment door close behind him. Then she collapses back into his bed, laughing loudly and excitedly. She can’t help but kick her feet too, rolling around a few times to get tangled up completely in the blankets like a burrito. The outside world peaks in from an opening in the curtains. She watches a few birds fly by the window. As they soar through the air, sun soaking their feathers, they tweet their greeting to her then continue on. 
Mack reaches out at them, content smile on her face, feeling as free as they are this morning.
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Round 1, Bracket 5:
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Rio propaganda:
Pros: EXTREME silliness! As a doll he has no blood, but it wouldn’t be surprising if he had veins full of Mountain Dew. He makes a lot of jokes at the cast’s expense (and makes many meme references in the Portuguese version) calling them bastards at every opportunity. He looks like a walking lost & found box from stealing clothing items off the dead, as well as goofy placards to express the emotions he’s unable to. His head is kicked off by his ‘father’ Gashu, but he only dies after the epiphany that he’s cringefail.
Cons: He works for the villain organisation Asunaro, and has a deep jealousy for the human candidates, feeling joy in watching them die. He was refused any true positive emotions by Gashu to make him more ‘truly human’ and avoid the weakness his father saw in the compassionate nature of Kai and Sei, who was Ranger’s original basis and was killed in a battle royale by the organisation.
Safalin propaganda:
Pros: She possesses the attitude of an underpaid customer service worker and dresses like a dessert like most of the floormasters, and is often the butt of Ranger’s jokes. Safalin seems to dislike the position she’s in and helps the participants a lot, and overall she has several silly moments and is extremely girlfail.
Cons: She’s very… morally questionable. At the end of the day she has several unethical practices still works for Asunaro, and while regretful she’s still willing to murder a child. She brings back Rio with positive emotions just for him to suffer and die again anyway, to make herself feel better.
Dark therapist show me illegal coping mechanisms
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jymwahuwu · 7 months
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When I was picking up starfish for Neuvillette, I was illuminated by a light outside the Fortress of Meropide and automatically taken back to prison💀💔 So I'm thinking about the story of the reader trying to escape by diving and being caught by Wriothesley🥴
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CW: yandere, abuse of power, non-con, escape failed, non-consensual spanking
Just today. You can escape, now or never.
You've bribed one of the guards, using all the credit coupons you earned from working in the cafeteria. He quietly brings you a set of diving equipment from outside and briefly teaches you how to use it. He's on duty today. On this day, this day only, you can take advantage of the laxity and loopholes in the guards to escape. For the past few days, you had been submissive and radiant in front of Wriothesley, warming his cock for hours. He promised to give you a day off. You can walk around the Fortress of Meropide and chat with people, or you can just sleep and read, write, munch delicious breads and desserts. It's up to you.
And you use it to escape from prison.
You were sent to the Fortress of Meropide for some ridiculous crime… or maybe even something you didn't do at all. It only took three days from the accusation to the conviction. The members of gardes somehow searched your home for "evidence of guilt". The testimonies of the witnesses all subtly accused you, as if a strange net fell from the firmament. You tried to argue and analyze the irrationality of these logics, but tears and logic… were all useless. This ordinary trial, devoid of drama, ended quickly. They escort you to an underwater prison, where you are exiled in full view of the public.
"Mmm, raise your head and let me see you."
Your eyes widened, recognizing him, a customer you met when you worked part-time in the teahouse. He helped you deal with a customer who was harassing you. Dressed in work clothes, you introduced him to new refreshments, giggling at his witty remarks. He always comes on the same afternoon, orders tea and dessert, and sits quietly, waiting to talk to you.
Once, he asked you whether the sun was so bright outside the water, and whether the people at the top of the water were the same as you. You were confused by his question at that moment.
A confession changes something. Such a peaceful life continued until one day, he hinted whether he would be lucky enough to go on a date with you, but… you had not thought about establishing any romantic relationship with the guest. Unexpectedly, the customer just nodded, kissed the back of your hand and left.
(Underwater. Inexplicable charges and sentences.) The mind is buzzing, and those clues and emotions are flooding into you. You have some understanding of what's going on-
"…It's you. It's you who is framing me…"
"I don't know what you're talking about." He smiled - with confidence and teasing. "But falsely accusing me will only make your crime worse."
You bit your lip, shaking, tears falling.
Your cell is somehow quite close to Wriothesley's office. He summons you to his office at any time, puts you on his lap, or presses on you at night. You want to resist. Once, you yelled at him in the cafeteria. Wriothesley just held your waist with one hand, took off your underwear, and slapped your exposed and swollen butt. Other prisoners were frightened.
You arrived at the appointed location, and the guard nodded to you. You prepare to put on your diving gear, but your thoughts spread like tree roots - When will Wriothesley realize you're missing? What will he do? Where can you go...Mondstadt? Sumeru is closer, but there are Matras there. They may be working with Fontaine...Wriothesley...He...
However, these are not worth mentioning in the face of freedom. You can't hide your current smile, the joy of freedom dances on the tip of your tongue, urging you to take steps forward. Beautiful sunshine. Market. The sound of people talking. The steam from the machine when brewing tea. Detective novels and newspapers. You will be able to have these again, even if you can't appear openly anymore, but it doesn't matter, anything is better than an underwater prison and a large factory.
Anywhere is better than here…
The moment you were about to dive-
a pair of arms grabbed you.
You started screaming almost immediately, broke into a cold sweat from fear, and struggled like a fish out of water without even looking at who the person behind you was. You just want to dive into the sea, but those arms are unexpectedly strong - just like when he pulled you into his arms and kissed your lips countless times. No room for rejection.
"Hey-hey, calm down, okay? Stop." He takes off your diving equipment. What Wriothesley said was like you were losing your temper, not that he was using a trick to force you to stay with him. You turned around and met his gray pupils, crying. The man still smiled and patted your head, "there there…" But as soon as he finished speaking, you found that the guard you bribed was being subdued and pinned to the ground.
"Take him away. Inform Neuvillette." He said coldly.
The guards received the order, saluted, and then forcibly escorted him away.
"…W-when did you know?" He wrapped his arms around your waist, allowing you to sniffle and whimper. You just want to ask this, to know how much you've been predicted. Does he laugh inside when he sees you being so well-behaved…? Wriothesley paused for a moment, as if he was considering how to reply, not wanting to hurt your pride. "…Is it important?"
"I want to know."
"I told you, I know everything that's going on here, the difference is whether I want to take action or not." He placed a kiss on your forehead. "I'll use the belt later, by the way."
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libbee · 1 year
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Safety first: protection against manipulators.
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Inner planets in 8th house/12th house/generational planets (Jupiter, Saturn in 8th house)
Sunday evening. You sit along with your friends and family for a nice relaxing hangout. Tea, snacks, gifts, laughter, full of energy. People sharing their stories and experiences. All well, few hours later, party over. You are still in the warmth of energy, joyed by the event, feeling good to be alive. Then.. something clicks. You are confused. This couple said things that dont sit right with you. What is it? You know in your head that this person was lying, the manipulation was so subtle that you only see it now, they were grooming the crowd to give them what they want. Welcome to the dark side of human psychology.
Intentional or unintentional, it does not matter, but you were manipulated and that is real. Some people go through life carefree and unbothered. Others know a little more. Every conversation we have with others is either an influence or a manipulation. Parent influences child. Teacher infleunces student. Spouse influences partner. Customer influences seller. Every person influences others, but when this influence is loaded with malicious, selfish and one sided exploitation, then you know you are being manipulated. When you give more than you get, are being misled and misinformed and being used as a social toy then you know you are being manipulated. Most disturbing manipulation happens from those who are closest to us, that is family, siblings and partner etc. When someone lies to you, they paint a picture in your head that does not exist. The lies distort your perception and affect your decisions, presuppositions about the world and opinions.
Why do some people never identify liars and manipulators? Because these people know what they want from others, are dominating Alpha type, extremely charming and love bombing, speak over others and assert their opinions on others. All of us have emotional needs and vulnerability, most necessary is the need for social acceptance and participation. We crave to belong to someone and some group. A lot of people never identify liars and manipulators because they are not so emotionally sensitive and enlightened. As unfortunate as it is, the world is after all not a bubble of well meaning and fair deal people.
Once you identify manipulative people, you also understand how futile it is to confront them. These people live in a different reality. They go to any lengths to manipulate people's perceptions because it benefits them. They are crazy making tricksters. Can you ever be "friends" with a trickster? No, in the end you lose more than you gain. Here is something you can learn from:
youtube
Here is quotes from the video: "The victims of people such as con men and snake oil salesmen, are those who are unconscious of trickster – they have been tricked by their own naivety, greed or self-deception. We have to be a little tricky, to guard against being tricked."
"We can deceive others or be deceived, but we can never deceive ourselves. Trickster forces us to look at ourselves in the mirror, and to the persona that we are putting on to impress others, to the detriment of our instinctual needs, our creativity and playfulness that is so vital to give us the energy that we need in our daily life."
Once you understand that the manipulators outside are a mirror to your internal trickster, it is time to change your beliefs about yourself and transform a little. This is why the 8th housers, scorpion, 12th housers are the ones to identify manipulation because their natural ability is to transform. Someone who has inner planets in 1st/2nd/3rd houses in air/fire signs simply would not have the ability to transform - but they can be a trickster if they are unevolved. Sadly, a lot of air/fire people stay unevolved because their natural ability is not to do self reflection. Water house/sign natives can learn from these natives, because it is said that the people who hurt you the most are your spiritual teachers.
“The so-called civilised man has forgotten the trickster. He remembers him only figuratively and metaphorically, when, irritated by his own ineptitude, he speaks of fate playing tricks on him or of things being bewitched. He never suspects that his own hidden and apparently harmless shadow has qualities whose dangerousness exceeds his wildest dreams.” - Carl Jung, C.W. Vol. 9.1: On The Psychology of the Trickster Figure.
In the so called transformation of 8th housers and scorpion lies the enlightenment and coming to the consciousness. It is to shed the ignorance of unconscious and primitive way of life. It is to dissolve your previously held ego and step into a new way of life. It is to get in touch with your spirits and the soul that is you. To change your habits and interests. One example, to stop listening to music and songs rather meditate, watch your impulse and emotions, create music rather than consume. This is a new way of life. One that will both change your interpersonal relations and your own inner life.
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hx4x4enthusiast · 6 months
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Fuck around & Find out
Words: 909
Knockout x gender-neutral reader
Warning: this is suggestive and has Dom/sub themes, read with discretion
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Every creature is capable of change, that’s what Optimus always preaches and honestly yeah, I agree everyone deserves a second chance. But why for Gods, or Primus, or whoevers sake put a certain hella annoying ex-con, with a with a custom paint job into my life. Don’t get me wrong I am happy that he decided to join the Autobots, but I just want to know why he decided to annoy, out of everyone, specifically me.
“Oh, my dear little cherry, what crawled up your exhaust pipe and died, hmmm?” A suave voice sounded through the otherwise empty storage room, as the owner of the voice struts through the room like he owns the whole base.
By Primus how I hate that nickname. Ever Since Optimus decided that Knockout should learn more about humanity and take over certain responsibilities, he was assigned as my guardian and has taken to calling me “little cherry”. Which then infected nearly everyone else and now everyone except Optimus, Ultra Magnus and Ratchet refer to me by my nickname.
Taking a deep breath, I turn around to face Knockout putting on the biggest fake smile as I ask with the most sickening sweet tone I could. “You want to know something Knockout?”
“I know a lot of things dear; I could give you a list.” Knockout replies in his flirty undertone a smirk fixed on his facete, as he steps closer to my elevated resting place.
“You always bring me so much joy”, I make a pause to let him bathe in the praise and before he can speak up, no doubt to say something to feed his ego even more, I sweep in for the kill and continue, “as soon as you leave the room.”
For a moment he’s frozen, his smirk lacking his normal confidence, just as I was ready to celebrate this small victory, he catches himself again. “Oh, my such a rude thing to say to your guardian and dearest confidant.”
“Ugh you are the most annoying bot, con, being I have ever met,” I huff turning my face away from Knockout not wanting to have to look at his dumb angular face and shiny paint and small waist and deep red optics.
“It seems like someone has quite the mouth on them.” Knockout notes, advancing like a predator to his prey. Positing himself right in front of me and set his servo right behind me so he towers over me.  “You really ought to be taught a better way to utilize it.”
Startled trough the close proximity to him I look around for a way to escape, only to realize that Knockout despite his size, has effectively trapped me. Well shit.
“Aww what is wrong my little cherry, don’t tell me your nervous”, Knockout laughs at me, as he lowers himself “oh where did all your confidence go hmm? Was all it took just a little bit of teasing for your bite to turn tail?
“What no I am not nervous especially not because of an oversized sentient tin can with an ego that would make Cleopatra jealous”, I huff continuing to look everywhere but at the smug mech infront of me.
“My, my such a snarky attitude”, Knockout leaned incredibly close, his intake next to my ear as he whispers, voice dropping an octave lower,” you’re just begging for someone to put you in your place.
Stunned by the forwardness of Knockout all I manage is to look like a fish on land with the way I am gaping at him.
“What is this did I finally manage to shut the little brat up?” Knockout leaned back staring into my eyes challenging me to do anything in opposition, as he forces me with a firm grip to hold eye contact. “Are you going to be good now?”
“I I uhh”, I swallow the lump in my throat under the piercing stare of the ex-con. His optics two piercing rubies that have their attention solely on me, hiding a certain heat behind them.
A chuckle breaks the silence as Knockout regards me with a certain mirth. “Ah I never expected to have so much fun in teasing my little cherry, but your reactions are finer than the best high grade.” In his usual fashion he struts to the door before turning his head to me and with a smirk gives me one last piece of advice. “I held back today, dear”, his voice takes on a dangerous edge, one he used when he was still a Decepticon on the battlefield before he continues, “but if your ever think to turn into a brat again. I will have you on your knees begging for forgiveness. Is that clear little cherry?”
A mute nod is all I can manage, as an answer.
“Ahahah, words my little cherry,” the mech tuts in a disapproving manner.
“Ye-…Yes sir”, I quack out, instantly my hands fly to my mouth as I realize what I just called him. Dread spreads through my body as after a few seconds Knockout smirk gets even wider.
“Seems like the brat does now how to be respectful,” with that he steps through the door and lets it slide shut behind him.
Leaving me wallow in self pitty trying to wrap my head around what just happened. Though one thing was clear, do not fuck with Knockout or you find out what you may not be ready for.
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