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unluckiestmember · 1 year ago

Note

can I request headcanons of x-men 97 team x reader who is an absolute sweatheart and is just the cutest thing to exist.

Coming right up!

X-Men '97 X Sweetheart! Reader

Characters: Nathan Summers/Cable, Scott Summers/Cyclops, Remy LeBeau/Gambit, Jean Gray, Jubilee, Erik Lehnsherr/Magneto, Morph, Kurt Wagner/Nightcrawler, Rogue and Logan/Wolverine.

Warning: Mild Cursing, but overall SFW.

A/N: Can I please get someone to remind me to actually post when I'm supposed to? Anyone? XD

Cable

“Time to get to work, keep up!… You want me to carry you? Heh, say less.”

Oh Nathan, Nathan, Nathan. He tries his best to be as tough and straight to business like his old man. Always a man to try and change the future and fight for the people with a straight face. But as soon as you’re around him, your sunshine energy radiates onto him. You make the freedom fighter have a need to impress you on the field when he’s not showering you in love outside of missions.

What really drew you to him was just how careful you were with his body. How you complimented his eye and stroked his robotic arm with so much care. It has made him really adore the end of the days where particular expeditions took a lot of energy out of you two, resulting in cuddles and sweet nothings. He never understood the whole concept of loving someone like his dad loved his mom, but after meeting you, he finally understood what they had was sacred. What you two had was sacred. Nathan has lost a lot in his life, but he’ll be damned if he loses you.

Cyclops

“Are you alright?! You’re not hurt, are you? I’m not overexaggerating- I’m worrying the right amount!”

Scott can be a pain in the neck during missions. He’s always one to bark out orders and keep a level head on missions as the leader of the X-Men. And if there’s one order that’s always on the top of his list, it’s making sure you are safe. He’s by all means not an overprotective or possessive lover, but he makes it a daily part of his life to always check on his beloved. Whenever you are just being yourself, you can find him staring at you, taking in your cute energy and reciprocating it with his own cute antics like kissing your cheek or giving you gifts when you least expect it.

Are the team a bit jealous of you having Scott’s favoritism? A bit. But hey, they’d rather someone like you have the best of Scott than the worst. Even if that also includes his defensive nature of you along with his jealous antics. He means well. You know it, sometimes you just have to remind him. Whether it be with a simple talk or a passionate kiss. Face it, you keep the leader of the X-Men grounded.

Gambit

“Ah, just the person I was looking for. Is it just me or are you getting more breathtaking every day, mon cher?"

When it comes to you, Remy is bound to flirt twenty four seven just to see that nice shade of pink color on your cute little cheeks. And if he cant succeed in that, he’s bound to have you smitten with his physical hold of your waist or his sincere compliments. He’s quite a charmer, anyone knows that, but with you, he adds another flare to himself; A sweet lover.

Gambit will always make it abundantly clear that you are the cutest person he’s ever met and how he can wager the perfect future with you by his side. Expect this man to shower you with surprise trips away from the mansion, a fresh breakfast almost everyday and a little card show if you are ever upset, because if there’s one thing he hates more than anything, it’s you being upset. You are the only one that can make Gambit so emotional because he just loves you so so much. And if you ever forget, he doesn’t mind reminding his raison de vivre.”

Jean Gray

“I wish you could see what was in my mind… Maybe then you’d realize how much you mean to me, my love.”

When it comes to Jean, you’ve basically hit the jackpot on one of the most open and loving girlfriends you could ever ask for. You aren’t just a sweetheart, you are her sweetheart. She always touches you like a porcelain doll, staring into your eyes with so much affection of her own and giggling whenever you hug or hold her, prompting her to hold you or hug you back just as tightly. On missions, she is in the zone, but as soon as they are over, she’s heading straight to you to check if you are injured. And if you’re not? Expect this woman to shower you in so many compliments and love that you might just drown from the cuteness.

Jean isn’t just your protector, but also your best friend, always free to try anything you want to try and do what you want to do.Dare she say, you might be the love of her life. Screw being lovers, she wants to be a married couple. But as much as that gets her excited, she’ll take her time for you, because she knows whether it takes her whole life or a single day, she doesn’t mind waiting for the fateful day.

Jubilee

“That was awesome! Did you see me out there- Did you?! Let me let you in on a secret; That last one was for you~!”

Because of how young she is and her lack of a love life, Jubilee is still pretty new to the whole dating and falling in love thing. But when she met you, she knew she was bound to fall in love with someone so positive and full of life. An embodiment of a firework if she said so herself. She always drags you around town with her to hangout at arcades or spend time in the mall grabbing lunch and doing cute couple things.

She cares about you enough to ask other X-Men members advice on how to treat you or show you how much you mean to her. It honestly impresses and shocks the team how this troublemaker tries her best to make you feel like the luckiest person in the world dating her. If she’s not showing her love for you through domestic activities, then look outside your window at night. You are bound to find Jubilee sending you love with her fireworks bound to make you giggle and smile. Which is always delightful because when you are filled with so much happiness, so is she.

Magneto

“What we have is stronger than any magnetic pull I’m capable of. It’s terrifying. But also magnificent.”

If you ever wanted to be treated like royalty, Magneto is the man for you. Erik treats you like you are a precious flower that could be destroyed by the mutant hating world around you. Because of this, he is so careful with you, yet not overbearing. If you want to hang out outside or simply hang out with him, he doesn’t mind as long as no one looks at you the wrong way or touches you with ill intent. Because if they do?… Let’s just say Magneto can do a lot with his powers.

When he’s not making sure you’re safe, he is awestruck at your innocence and your positive outlook on life. At first, he actually found your vision of the world to be immature, untrue and above all stupid. But the more he’s spent time with you, you’ve seem to have melted his cold heart a bit. Does he still think humanity is the scum of the Earth and nothing can change? Yes. But with you by his side, showing him what love, understanding and acceptance can be, maybe, just maybe, he can see where you’re coming from.

Morph

“Why the long face, babe? I can do a mean Magneto impression that’s sure to make you smile… Haha! There’s my love!”

Around people, Morph treats you almost like one of the guys, in a figurative sense. They don't treat you any differently from the rest of his friends and family within the team. But behind closed doors or when you two are alone, all bets are off. They are melting at your sweet nature and so quick to try to make you laugh, smile or get physical with them. Man, do they love when you get physical with him- They adore it!

But what they really loves is how caring and protecting of them you are. They've told you about their past, their run in with Mister Sinister and their time away from the team. And no matter how many nightmares or moments of body dysmorphia he experiences, they love how you are always there to pick up their loose pieces and put them back together with your gentle touch and gentler words. Because of this, they're always there to return the favor and comfort you as well when you are at your lowest. You are their best friend sorry Logan and their beloved and they wouldn’t want it any other way.

Nightcrawler

“Liebe meines Lebens. You never cease to take my breath away.”

Kurt is a pretty romantic person, especially when it comes to you. He showers you endlessly in love, rubbing his nose against yours, showering your face in kisses and becoming putty when you hold him, even if it’s just by his arm! He cherishes moments where the both of you hang out, especially by gardens where he makes cute flower crowns with you. Though just any moments with you are the highlight of his day. On missions, you two synergize perfectly well with the blue mutant complimenting you on your moves and takedowns of foes.

Kurt is an expert at physical touch for a love language, but he’s just as amazing with his words, especially with the nicknames he’s given you. He’ll make sure everyone knows that you are his Schatz, Herz, bessere Hälfte, and of course, Liebe meines Lebens. To you, he’s a lot like a little puppy; Full of energy and always waiting for your attention and affection given to him. The team thinks you two are cute even if they find it a bit annoying that Nightcrawler is always teleporting you two all over the place. It’s not too bad though since the sound of your mixing laughter is enough to make everyone’s hearts soar happily.

Rouge

“Hey, Sugar! I missed you so much today! Now come here, I at least want a hug!”

Rogue is super careful of you. You are just too precious to her and she doesn’t want to hurt or break you with her powers. So she makes sure you both have ways of showing one another how much you love each other, especially herself. Outside of soft hugs, she tries her best to give you a hand covered kiss. Though she can be super cheesy and exchange indirect kisses with rocks, feed you while chuckling at how adorably you stare at her like she hung the stars above. She’ll even have you both set up for dinner plans and fly you around in the sky if you ever want to destress from work as a X-Man.

You both have a cute relationship, even if there are moments where Rogue wonders if she deserves you or if she will ever be enough for you due to her destructive powers and the possibility she will never be able to touch you. These revelations have led to emotional nights, but the promise you make to touch her and make her the happiest woman in the world always makes Rogue realize that she is beyond lucky to have you. You make her want to find a way to touch you no matter what. And mark her words, she will.

Wolverine

“Woah, little pup. I was just gone for a few hours, you act like I went to war or something! Aw, screw it, come here.”

Logan has fallen in love with many men and women during his years of living. But damn has he never met anyone quite like you! When he met you, he thought your whole sweetheart shtick was fake, no offense. He thought it was some trick used to get people to lower their guards around you so you can get the upper hand on them. But when he found out you really were the sweet soul everyone hyped you up to be, he slowly but surely fell for you. He fell for how you spoke to him with such understanding and patience. The way you touched him was with the utmost care when you took care of him and helped him clean blood from your adventures with him that got out of hand.

Logan fights for many people, but for you he will kill anyone that hurts you or makes you cry. Your smile lights up his whole life, your laugh pushes him to be stronger to preserve it and your touch makes him feel alive in a world that always knocks him down. If it’s not the X-Men, Wolverine usually fights for himself and only himself. But now that he has you to lose, he fights for the both of you and a future where you both can live a peaceful life you’re both proud of.

If you got any requests for X-Men '97, Blue Eye Samurai, and or Arcane, send them my way!

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3

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formulakracing · 4 months ago

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enemies? worse than that. — f.a.

pairing -> fem!driver reader x fernando alonso

word count -> 3.3k

warnings -> cursing, light/mild violence, mentions of online hate, sexual innuendos (if you squint really closely), hurt + comfort, jealousy, light injuries, age gap mentions, yadayadayada

a/n -> this fic stemmed from this ask in the garage. i'm sorry i just got to this one, babe. i hope you enjoy it! <3

in the world of formula 1, animosity was normal.

welcomed, even.

with the competitive nature of the sport, there was no escaping it.

there was always drama. a driver who refused to acknowledge their mistake that cost another driver their podium. a driver who got a little handsy, shoving another driver after a heated exchange of words. a driver who would refuse to accept that they had teammates. a driver who timed their overtake a bit too late, barreling into another car.

it was just the reality of the sport. although it was not as physical as football, rugby, or even wrestling, the adrenaline would fuel outbursts, the tension palpable by even the most casual of fan.

yet, there were times the tension was fabricated too. some of the gossip was purely baseless rumors, where other times it was a tiny spat that was overexaggerated for the sake of social media attraction. a headline generated for some clicks or views.

you were a good girl.

you kept your head down low, only spoke when spoken to, and rarely let the adrenaline get the best of you. you kept things as clean as possible, anxious of the nuclear fallout. you even inhibited your abilities, just enough so you stayed midfield.

well, it’s not like you wanted to hold back.

you just figured it was better that way. there was less risk of a crash that way. and with no accidents or damage to the car, you could avoid blame from the fans and media when there were far from stellar performances.

life as a formula one rookie was rough enough.

being the only female driver on the grid was like pouring gasoline over an open flame.

sure, there were rough days. sessions where you felt completely and utterly defeated, tears streaming down your cheeks the moment you clawed that balaclava off. races where the dream of a podium felt almost impossible to achieve. nights where you wanted to chuck your helmet against the wall, screaming until your lungs gave out.

however, there was nowhere else you would rather be.

nothing in life compared to being behind the wheel of the car. nothing was as fulfilling as racing, the euphoria pumping through your veins as you soared down that straight. nothing else inspired you or brought you the intense thrill that formula one did.

you absolutely loved the sport. everything and anything about it.

well, almost everything.

and that one thing? well, it was not a thing. it was a person.

a driver, actually. his name?

fernando alonso.

the spaniard was a veteran, in the midst of his twenty-first season. he had seen it all, from a turbulent rookie year to dozens upon dozens of podiums. he had relished in that sweet, sweet taste of victory. he had heard the thunder of dozens upon dozens of fireworks, savoring the way the crowd roared his name.

with two championship titles, thirty-two grand prix wins, and twenty-two pole positions, you would think that he would be slowing down, eager to begin a life off of the grid.

to your dismay, he was contracted with aston martin until the end 2026. that meant two more seasons of his snarky remarks and unwarranted antics.

ever since lance finally convinced his father to let him take a step back from racing, you were promoted to fill the aston martin seat. you spent 2024 as their reserve driver, keeping a low profile. of course, acquiring a female driver was a shock to many, but since it was aston martin, it was not as coveted as signing with red bull or ferrari.

in andy cowell's mind, the move made perfect sense. after all, he felt that you deserved it, as you proved your patience. and whenever you did test, you were stellar. there was no need to bring in a fresh face from formula two, who would only crumble under the intense pressure.

in his eyes, you were a driver worth investing in. someone who could make history, all eyes falling on aston martin and their first female world champion.

a star in the making.

aston martin's diamond in the rough.

yet, there was one person who was not too fond of the newbie.

and that person was fernando.

you see, it was not like he was harassing you.

it was more along the lines of him making your life as inconvenient as possible.

he was colder than the rest of the aston martin team, barely speaking more than two to three words to you at a time. he refused to participate in sponsorships or social media bits with you. he would only address you by "newbie", never by your name.

he would call out your mistakes during press conferences. he would blame you for underperforming during race weekends. he would giggle and gossip about you with the other drivers, sparking rumors that you were interested in carlos. some weekends he proclaimed it was charles or lando.

he never went too far, though. he never intentionally rammed into your car or put you in risk of danger. he never created false narratives to share with the media. he never slandered you so badly that it prevented you from competing.

it was mostly harmless. things you would have dealt with in middle school. behaviors you felt that a man of his age should have outgrown.

in your mind, it was his fucked up way of welcoming you to the grid. some sort of test you needed to pass in order to be accepted by not only him, but the other drivers. you needed to suffer as much as possible your rookie year in order to climb that social ladder.

from the beginning, you figured you would match his energy.

you would fight the fire with your own flames.

his taunts were met with retaliation, the jabs countered by venomous barbs. when he went low, you went lower. you were not going down without putting up a fight.

and every time his voice would lower, his head tilting ever so slightly, just a few degrees enough for you to notice. there was this glint swimming in his depths, almost as if he was pleading for you to keep going, to keep the insults flowing.

the notes would get breathy, his chest rising and falling at a more rapid heart.

it was almost as if he liked getting a reaction out of you.

he would push at your buttons, just enough to keep you frustrated.

almost as if he enjoyed it, soaking in every second.

almost as if this was a game for him.

a game that he would not win.

not while you were in that damn aston martin seat.

however, there was one particular aspect of it all that left you spiraling, lying wide awake at night. your mind would rewind, replaying every moment of every sole interaction that you have ever had with this man.

unfortunately, you had developed a crush on fernando.

a significant one, at that.

in the midst of every quarrel, your eyes would meet. heat would billow into your cheeks, your heart rate only skyrocketing as he maintained the eye contact, his gaze every so often flickering to your lips. there was one instance in which you swore you heard him utter, keep going baby. at those words, your knees buckled, your throat tightening.

to make things worse, you loved hearing him speak to you like that.

it was almost as if he was praising you for it.

there was no denying that fernando was a handsome man. lately, he was growing out his hair, the fluffy strands unruly. along his chiseled jawline was a constant five o'clock shadow, the stubble prominent at all times. whenever you caught a glimpse of the inked skin poking above the collar of his clothing, you a shiver ran down your spine.

and fuck, his eyes were oh so stunning. the hues were reminiscent of sunlight pouring in through a forest, the rays of light illuminating the dusty earth. the colors were rich and vivid, shimmering as they drank you in.

he thought he would get away with it, but you've caught his gaze lingering for just a little too long, carefully capturing any detail before pulling away.

there was a part of you that wondered if all of this was his fucked up way of flirting, but you denied it.

there was no way in hell fernando was into you.

there was just no damn way.

november 3rd, 2024

"look at all of this shit."

a driver clicks his tongue, shaking his head ever so slightly. various hues of emerald blur in his peripheral, members of the crew chattering about.

"what do you think of the rain, eh?" the spaniard's body shifts, facing his race engineer, "you think it will cause some chaos out there?"

"fernando," chris rolls his eyes, "you and i both know what happens when that asphalt gets slick. just follow your gut. do what you feel is right."

"of course," a chuckle flows from fernando's lips, the driver wagging a finger at his engineer, "no funny business out there."

another member of the crew strolls up to chris, murmuring something that fernando can't quite decipher. chris exhales, his stare fixated on the rain as it pounded the pavement. fernando puckers his lips, words dangling on the tip of his tongue. yet, he can't speak.

someone else enters his line of sight, stealing any shred of attention he had left.

that someone else was you.

licking his lips, he calls out, "are you going to be able to handle a little rain?"

your jaw clenches, head swiveling as your brow furrows, "i can, actually. not sure how you'll fare, though."

"is that a challenge?" he can't help but feel his lips twitch, curling into a smirk, "let's see if you can even make it past the first turn before hydroplaning."

"you're on." you shoot him a wink, blowing him a kiss, "i'll make sure i find you in the crowd when i'm on that podium."

"sure," fernando tuts, folding his arms across his chest, "we'll see about that one, baby girl."

we'll see about that one, baby girl.

you freeze, earning a laugh from him. he cocks his head, tongue running along his teeth, "cat got your tongue?"

"n-no," you spit out, "save it for the race, fernando."

as you storm off, there's a sensation burning within, the flames licking about.

god, he craved riling you up.

you see, it was not like he was trying to make your life at aston martin miserable. to him, it was more like poking the bear, to see just how many buttons he had to push before you snapped. the moment in which you would become you, the real you. the person he knew was hiding in there, anxiously anticipating her moment the shine.

he was waiting for the moment in which you would unleash your full potential, fighting tooth and nail for that podium. the moment in which would make the other drivers fear you, not daring to overtake or pull cheap shots.

fernando was well aware you had the talent to be the world champion.

you just needed a little push here and there to unlock it.

before he knew it, he was sliding into the seat, shoving his fingers into the gloves. there was a slight rain delay, but nothing that had never encountered before. he was a professional, a seasoned driver in conditions like this.

however, as the car lurches onto the track, there's this feeling that blossoms into his chest. it tugs at his heart, head raising so that he could glance over, taking one last look before all hell broke loose.

you are in your own car, visor flipped down. droplets of rain glitter on your helmet, the suit a darker shade than usual from all of the moisture.

although he can't see your face underneath the helmet, he knows that your lips are slightly pursed. your eyes are narrowed, lasered in, hoping to catch a glimpse of the flag. concentration paints your features, but he knows in that moment, you could not be more beautiful.

if only you knew.

if only.

the second the roar of engines fill his ears is when it all blurs together.

parts fly in the air, a tire whizzing past. his heart thuds against his rib-cage, but he knows he cannot stop. he cannot make any mistakes. one delayed reaction could lead to devastation.

"fernando, they're waving a red flag. head to the pits and await further directions."

"what is going on? what happened?" he pants, his chest heaving, "tell me, who was involved?"

"there was an accident. we think she's going to be okay, but we're not sure. hence, the double-flag. first, we need to get you pitted."

"i-is she injured?" his fingers tremble, "d-do you guys know her status?"

"our priority is getting you to the pits safely. we will reconvene once you're back."

"fuck!" the driver shouts, tears forming as he maneuvers about, shifting between the brake and gas. the rain is torrential, shrouding the grandstands and his nearby surroundings.

he should have warned her. he should have given her some tips. he should have made it his priority to ensure she made it out of the first lap safely.

yet, it was too late.

"fuck! fuck! fuck!"

november 4th, 2024

harsh, sterile light seeps into your vision, nearly blinding as you groan, stirring. as your eyes adjust, you wrinkle your nose, sensing something taped to your hand.

as you make it out, you realize it's an i.v., hooked to a bag floating above your head. swallowing, you sense someone else in the room, but you are ensure of who it may be.

"there she is."

his voice is familiar, one you found comfort in.

"w-what happened?" the words are coughed out, but he understand them nonetheless, "where a-am i?"

fernando straightens in his chair, slightly leaning over the bed rail, "we're at a nearby hospital. i'm not too sure of where, exactly."

a searing pain shoots into your skull, earning a wince. fernando's fingers roam across your forehead, brushing a few strands of hair from your brow.

"do you remember what happened?"

"no," a giggle bubbles up in your throat as you pick out the concern plastered across his features. his jaw is tight, lips etched in a tightly knit frown, "but i think i'm dreaming because you're by my side. i would've expected andy or ben."

"you're not dreaming, beautiful girl," he murmurs. his hands reach out the rail, settling on yours, "it's me, i'm here."

"but you're alone," propping yourself up with an elbow, you inhale sharply, "you would rather retire than spend quality time with your teammate."

"not just any old teammate," cautiously, he brings a hand to his lips, gently pressing them against each knuckle, "the teammate i look forward to teasing every day."

your heart skips a beat as he switches hand, peppering the heated skin with gentle kisses, "you hate me, fernando."

"hate?" his eyes widen, mouth flying open, "you think i hate you?"

"i-i mean," you shrug, "you treat me like i'm your enemy."

"i know," the words are eerily quiet, merely a whisper, "i know i treat you that way. and for that, i am sorry."

"are you just saying that or do you mean that?"

"do you want to know why i treat you the way i do? you want me to be honest?" he arches a brow, intertwining your fingers together, "i know what you want me to say, but i want to just hear it."

bliss ripples in your chest at the action, the medication seeping into your veins, "a-are you sure i'm not dreaming, nando?"

at the sound of his nickname falling from your lips, he nearly loses control.

"you're not dreaming, beautiful girl. i was worried about you, so i came in and waited by your side until you woke up. i'm attracted to you, angel. you're so stunning it leaves me speechless. and i know if i give in to my feelings, if i let them consume me, i am going to be under your spell for the rest of my life.

you are so determined, so bright, so talented. it hurts me that you don't maximize your full potential when we are on the track. although it may seem like i hate you, i just can't help myself. so, i have to find another outlet for these feelings. there's no other way i would be able to concentrate, let alone reach my goals with you around. so, i have to keep my distance. i have to remind myself that it's not you, it's me. it's a bit juvenile, but there's no other way for me to function."

his confession leaves you reeling, the beeping of the monitor speeding up as he rises to his feet, leaving over the rail. his mouth hovers above yours, merely centimeters away as the tip of nose brushes against yours.

yet, the next round of medications are settling in, pulling you into the depths of slumber. licking your lips, your lashes flutter as the tip of his nose brushes against yours.

"nando," you hum, "it sounds like to me you're in love with me."

at that, he squeezes your hand, flashing you a dazzling smile, "i just might be, angel. i just might be."

"you shouldn't be scared of your feelings. you should feel them. who knows, it may work out in your favor."

"who knows," his voice is hushed, "oh, pretty girl. looks like your meds are kicking in, huh?"

you nod, the corners of your lips forming a pout, "mhmmm. will you stay with me? until i wake up again? i want to know i'm not dreaming."

"i will," there were no hesitations, "i'll stay here until you wake up again. sleep well, angel."

as you doze off, the spanish driver fiddles with a few of your things, organizing them. as dazed as you were, he did not want to create any further confusion when you woke up once again. he was going to take advantage of this moment in time, as he was unsure of when he was going to get it again.

as far as the accident, you were stable. unfortunately, going into one of the first few turns, you fell victim to kevin magnussen, the two of you colliding. since you received the impact, both you and the car were in far worse shape. you spun out of control, barreling into the nearby barriers.

they rushed you by ambulance to the closest hospital, the spanish driver filled to the brim with dread as he watched you leave the track, hauled away in the emergency vehicle.

he ended up finishing in the fourteenth position. not anywhere near where he wanted to be, but his mind was other places.

he was far more concerned about you. how you were doing, what injuries you suffered, and where they were bringing you in for treatment. the second he was able, he flew to the hospital, jogging into the lobby. he was out of breath, exhausted from the events of the day, but it didn't matter.

all that mattered was you.

fortunately, you were diagnosed with minor injuries. you had a concussion, along with a few broken ribs. you would make a strong recovery, bouncing back within a matter of weeks. you were in and out of sleep, but he did not mind.

he would sit and wait. as long as you needed him, he would be by your side.

who was going to be the first one to pester you once you were discharged? who else would be there to make you laugh? to get that light back in your eyes?

after all, there were many questions to be answered.

and he would get those answers.

not anytime in the near future, but soon enough.

however, buried deeply in his heart, he knew how you felt. you did not have to say a single word.

the radiant grin that appeared when you saw him was enough.

#fernando alonso #fernando alonso x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #formula 1 x female reader #fernando alonso x you #fa14 #fa14 x reader

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missysverse · 1 month ago

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Hot take??

I feel like people on tumblr (and I am guilty too) overexaggerate a teensy bit too much about shiftok. Don't get me wrong there are questionable posts on there. But we need to remember that people are way more likely to discover shifting on tiktok than on tumblr. The shifttok community is so much bigger obviously and people on tumblr have probably been in the shifting community for longer. Of course there's going to be misinformation on tiktok, people are constantly discovering shifting every day. They're going to have questions, they're going to have misconceptions, yes they're maybe over complicating shifting but they will fall out of it. Learning is just a part of the shfiting journey.

I've seen a few misinfo on this platform too. You literally can't escape it unfortunately. People have their own perception of what shifting is. "There's still sooo much misinformation on shifttok" and yet people still manage to shift to their drs despite this. That's why I say don't rely on other creators to describe what shifting it. Find that out for yourself. Shifting is different for everyone. I feel like everyone has their own approach to shifting and there's nothing wrong with it? LOA with tumblr, i've seen a guy on tiktok who focuses more on the lucid dreaming/astral projection methods for shifting (and he's been successful because that's what he believes works for him),

Only because someone on shiftok shifts in a way that opposes your beliefs, doesn't mean its the wrong way. There's not a right way to shift. If they believe that method works for them, let it be, it will work for them because they ASSUME it will (LOA). And if you believe its another way, then you can carry on doing so. However I do wish the people on the platform are more open like this.

I just feel like I've been seeing a lot of posts like "HAHAH people on shiftok, they're so behind. there's still so much misinformation" on tumblr. I'm going to be honest I don't care about people on shifttok. The continuation of this divide is getting tiring. It feels like the popular mean girl gossiping about the new girl who has yet to adjust to the school's social environment. Just kindly educate people who may be new to shifting rather than making fun of them.

Feel free to diagree with me. i'd love to hear other people's opinion

EDIT :: by the way I am referring to only shifttok (the people who are actually actively trying to shift) and not "random people on tiktok who sit on shifting who treat it as a trend". The anti-shifters can fall in a ditch x

#✶ 𓂃𓏲 missysverse #✶ missy's commentary #shifting reality #shifting #reality shifting #desired reality #shifting motivation #shiftblr #reality shifter #reality shifting community #shifting antis dni #shifting community #shifting blog #shifters #shifting realities #reality shift #shifting ideas

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realcube · 1 year ago

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WRATH & LUST . t.kei / y.tadashi

synopsis ✧ you hate tsukishima kei. you do everything in your power to make his life miserable but nothing works. now you have no choice but to fuck his best friend

cws/tags ✧ college au , enemies to enemies who screw, cursing, fob, smut, vaginal, oral (recieving) & praise — minors dni

parts ✧ i. ii. iii. iv.

maybe you were overexaggerating a bit when you said that yamaguchi is always with tsukishima, because there are a couple times a week when you know they'll be apart.

your friend is a part of the college's newspaper club, and she mentioned that yamaguchi is a member too, but tsukishima isn't. this gave you the perfect opportunity to the catch him alone and prey on his weakest form.

you saunter up to the news room, and catch yamaguchi waiting outside. they don't usually enter until your friend, the chief editor, arrives. "excuse me?"

your voice is soft and inviting, hence yamaguchi is stunned when he turns to see you. his guard is up, but unlike tsukishima, he doesn't immediately resort to aggression, "yes?" he replies quietly.

"is this the newspaper society?" you ask innocently, tilting your head with a smile.

yamaguchi is unsure as to why you are being so mellow towards him, considering your history, but as he chokes back a gulp, he figures that maybe your negative sentiments are purely towards tsukishima and up until now he has just been caught in the crossfire.

"yes, this is. i'm waiting for the editor to get here."

"oh, hana?" your lips are parts slightly, as he nods, "she is my friend. i'm sure she won't mind if we just go in."

"are you sure?" his questions is basically answered as he watches you enter the news room. he hesitantly follows behind, thinking he can shift the blame onto you if the chief editor is upset.

"so, are you a member? i've never seen you here before." he asks while fidgeting with his hands, taking a seat in his usual spot.

"no, not yet. i want to join though which is why i'm here." you sit near yamaguchi, on the table, "but i hear you're full. could you put in a good word for me, tadashi?"

you giggle. bafflement and wary burn at his face, dusting his cheeks a slight pink, "if you're friends with hana then i'm sure you don't need me to talk you up to her."

"well, yeah, but she's reluctant to let me join because, in her words, i can be 'volatile and confrontational'." you muse, legs swinging lightly as you turn to look at yamaguchi with a knowing smirk, "i'm so not, though. you can vouch for me, right?"

yamaguchi blinks, then responds, "yeah. you're the most docile person i know."

you find it cute that he plays along with your jokes. plus, now that you're actually taking a good look at him, you realise he has such a sweet, squishable face. how does the sweetest boy ever end up in the company of lucifer incarnate?

"i wouldn't say docile. that's too far-fetched." you tease.

"mild?"

"eh."

"poise?"

"i like that one but still no."

"composed?"

"that could work!" you cheer, displaying the palm of your hand he insantly reciprocates with a high-five. just as your shared laughter begins to die down, hana and a couple other members of the newspaper society enter the room.

you spend the rest of the hour in the back of the room, working on an article with yamaguchi. your friend knew about your plan, and she didn't mind you utilising her society to achieve your end goal, but you'd hate to impede on her work flow for too long so you pulled out all the stops to ensure you gain tadashi's favour as quickly as possible.

and it worked like a charm. despite never having communicated directly with each other before, you chatted throughout the whole hour like you were lifelong best friends. there was an undeniable chemistry between the two of you — the sweet and sour.

plus, you both have a lot more in common than you may have initially thought. your music tastes are very similar, surprisingly, and you like the same movies/shows. he shows you a couple of his playlists and you do the same, discussing the concerts you've been to and what merchandise you have.

you learned that he is studying to be an electronic engineer while tsukishima is studying history, but he chose maths electives just so they could be in a couple of classes together. they also used to do volleyball together in highschool and are both apart of the volleyball society in college.

so corny and so cheesy but coming from the mouth of yamaguchi, it was the sweetest, most moving story of friendship you've ever heard.

even when meeting ended, you both still walked together out of the building, blathering away about anything and everything, it comes to an abrupt holt when you reach the building's exit.

perplexed, yamaguchi asks, "which way are you going? if you want, i could walk you to your bus stop?"

you smile awkwardly, pretending to be sheepish about the proposition despite it being exactly what you anticipated, "i would love that. but i don't think tsukishima would be too delighted to see us together."

yamaguchi frowns at the reminder but nods.

"but," you continue, pulling a pen and scrap piece of paper from your bag and hurriedly jotting something down, "you can ring me if you ever want to talk. or anything else." you hand it to him with a wink and yamaguchi's throat dies up at your suggestion, he is barely able to croak out an 'okay'.

"see you later!" you skip off and yamaguchi is left speechless behind.

ೃ⁀➷

you had warmed up to each other very quickly. texting each other videos, emojis and pictures every other minute. didn't even take two days before you both had a shared playlist. you were up until ungodly hours of the night facetiming each other.

it was so frequent, yamaguchi had to change your contact information to a fake name because he was getting tired of constantly having to hide his phone from tsukishima, since there was bound to be a notification from you on his screen.

"are you gonna buy tickets tonight???" "noooo don't remind me tadashi" "what's the matter ???😧" "wi-fi sucks at my houseee. i never get concert tickets on time. always end up paying resale prices 😤" "you can come to mine if you want! my wifi is good"

you took him up on his offer. you went over to his dorm at 10PM, since tickets when on sale at 11PM in your time zone. (darn international artists!)

it was a blood-bath but by the grace of god you both successfully secured two tickets to see your favourite artist performing live, with seats very close to the stage!

so of course you had to celebrate somehow.

shaky breathes escaped his lips, soft moans intertwined. his shirt had come off, exposing his tan skin to the hot atmosphere of his bedroom. hypnotised by the way your tight cunt sucked needily on his cock, dripping cum all over his bare shaft.

his gaze was only freed from your sex when he was nearing his climax and a sudden bolt of ecstasy wracked through him, causing his eyes to roll back, "so tight, (y/n)." he grunted, grabbing your ass and squeezing it.

he had you sprawled out over his bed face down, while he stood by the edge and fucked you from behind. he gave you a pillow to rest your cute head on so your neck wouldn't hurt, and he held your legs by his sides while he ploughed into you. four years of volleyball practise has its uses.

his pace is relentless but rhythmic; at first he fucked you leisurely, allowing you to appreciate every inch of him as he'd pull out of you excruciatingly slowly, then ease himself back in until his achy tip prodded your cervix. he wasn't doing it to torment you though, just to give you some time to grow accustomed to his length.

it was better that way; your desperate pussy welcomed him instead of trying to force him out. in fact, it clung to him so tightly it was challenging for him to pull out of you, somehow he managed.

as he approached his orgasm, his thrusts became hurried and sloppy, raring to spill inside your sopping pussy. but ever the altruist, he slips his fingers between your legs to press and rub at your clit fervently, "close, baby?"

his cock splits in you half, and your pussy throbs around him. the power with which he rams into you has made you hazy, drooling mess, only able to weakly buck your hips in reciprocation to his thrusts. you try to whine a meek 'yes' but your face is buried in the pillow, thus yamaguchi only hears an unclear, muffled noise.

he furrows his brows and moves his hands up to your waist, "'m gonna flip you over, yeah?" he pants, still fucking you as he talks, "wanna see that pretty face." in a surge of strength and energy, he pulls you off the bed and flips you onto your back, offering you a gentle smile when you lock eyes.

you weakly smile back, about the only autonomy you could exhibit while his cock continued to pound into you, moulding your walls around him. you were losing control of yourself with each thrust; clinging to the sheets and allow a string of lewd moans and profanities spill from your mouth. somewhere in the mix there was his name.

"tadashi.."

your eyes were closed, and your melodious voice called out for him to save you, like he wasn't tucked inside you. hearing you say his name like that — so filthy and obscene — delighted him in ways he didn't know were possible and only urged him closer to his climax. "(y/n), say that again, please."

the wet slapping noises he made against your cunt grew louder; it was a miracle you could still hear his pastel voice. being railed into the plush sheets of his bed, your mind and body were in two different realms, so when you tried to utter his name once more, all that came out was a series of moans and gasps.

"c'mon, (y/n)." he pled, gripping onto your hips like you are his life force, "i need you. be a good girl for me, please."

he punctuated each word with a harsh thrust, brushing your cervix each time and it didn't take much else for you to come crash down around him. spasming and twitching on his dick, your scream echoing through the room while he fucked you through it. your throbbing pussy still being used for his pleasure.

even when you were nearing completion, your pussy still fluttered around him and you squealed, "tadashi!" as the world became hazy and blurred around you.

which was enough to send him hurdling over the edge too. his teeth are gritted together and his hands tense on your waist when he cums inside you. his thrusts waver for only a moment before he temporarily resumes, this time with less vigour and with the sole purpose of milking himself dry inside you.

once he could feel his hot cum packed safely within your walls, he was finally able to gasp for air. he doesn't want to pull out, he's comfortable as he is, but the curious part of him wants to see how his load looks inside you.

he pulls out, only to kneel and examine your glistening hole. too fucked out and sore, you lay on the bed and try to catch your breath, allowing him to push your legs wide open without protest.

"so pretty." he mused, watch as a bit of his cum dribbles out of your pussy and onto your ass. not to worry though, as he uses his two fingers to guide it back inside you. idly, he pushes his fingers inside you and revels at how tight you still are.

"you're perfect." without thinking about it, he curls his fingers inside, then delicately drags them in and out, wrenching a feeble whine from your throat. "do you know how perfect you are?"

he pressed a loving kiss against your clit before poking his head up from between your legs to look at you. "mm" is all you respond with. he chuckles, "that's not a yes or no, baby."

he doesn't dwell on it too long. he'll stop bothering you now by trying to get you to respond to him; you're probably still recovering from your intense orgasm. yamaguchi goes back to admiring your hole, captivated by how his cum has filled you up, and whenever it tries to escape but it is prevented from doing so by his fingers.

"you look so beautiful like this. i wanna burn this image into my brain so i can keep it forever." he kisses your pussy again, french this time. his lips move graciously against your folds and his tongue plunges inside you. you taste so good, so intoxicating, he moans into your skin, the vibrations causing you to gasp. he continues to suck and lick inside your puckered hole, until he gets a taste of himself on his tongue, which causes him to falter and slowly pull away.

"i've never had sex with a girl on the pill before. but this was just.." he can't seem to find the word he's looking for. perhaps it doesn't exist. "amazing. well, that doesn't even cover half of it." he grins foolishly, caressing the inside of your thigh and still gazing at your hole.

"yeah." after lying motionless for a while, you seem to have finally come back down to earth and can form full sentences again. "amitriptyline is great, isn't it?"

"uhuh.." he muses, thinking about how gorgeous you look until what you said finally registers in head and he springs to his feet, "what!?"

#haikyuu x reader #yamaguchi smut #haikyuu smut #yamaguchi x reader #yamaguchi tadashi #yamaguchi x y/n #kei tsukishima x reader #👾nsfw

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bucksaiga · 2 months ago

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Some silly Rockly headcanons for my friends ♡

Whenever Molly and Rocker have a little disagreement, Rocker will try to cheer her up by teasingly calling her name until she cracks a smile. It'll be the 3rd or 4th "MoOoollyyYyy" before she can't hold back and starts giggling a bit and he peppers her with kisses.

They always exchange work stories. Rocker loves to hear about Molly's cases and they both end up saying "I'm not supposed to talk about this but..." when discussing work.

Rocker is always bragging about Molly. Not about how beautiful she is, but about how smart and kind and thoughtful she is.

The sex is amazing ofc. It's always whatever Molly wants whenever Molly wants it. Rocker's just happy to be there lol

Molly makes amazing breakfast but Rocker will overexaggerate how good it is with loud obnoxious moaning and his eyes rolling back. "Babe, I think I'm having a foodgasm" and she tells him to stop and eat his eggs.

"That is the most beautiful dress you've ever worn." He says this about every dress she's ever worn

Molly's eyes light up every time she sees Rocker and he feels so wanted and adored by her. It makes him feel incredible.

Rocker is Molly's best friend. They get coffee together, he goes with her to hair appointments, and she can gossip with him because he knows how to keep a secret

Molly is aware that Rocker is annoying. But he's annoying in a different way to her. When she's buying heels, he'll try on the exact same heels and hold up bikinis and ask her how they'd look on him. She loses count of how many times she has to playfully tap his arm and tell him "stop, put that back, you're gonna get us kicked out the store"

Rocker gets along really well with J.P.

#rockly #donovan rocker #molly hicks #swat cbs

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asa-do-your-thing · 8 months ago

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Helloo, could you do a Theon Greyjoy smut were the reader is a mermaid? Ty ♡♡

Swim to me; let me enfold you

18+ MINORS DNI Theon Greyjoy x Selkie!Reader 5.8 k Warnings: P in V sex, porn w/o plot, smut, oral sex, kind of orgasm denial? soft smut, theon's a bit of a misogynist but that was to be expected, sub theon thank you for the ask, I couldn't fall asleep so I had to write this, I hope you like it <3 oh and I might've gone overboard with the sea alliterations. whoops!

Leaning against an old oak, Theon shivered and took another sip of his mead, staring off into the distant darkness on Bear Island. Lord Stark had something private to discuss with Lady Maege Mormont, leaving him to his own devices. Robb, ever the good heir, had decided to go to bed early and the Mormont ladies - if one could even call them thusly - had fun with their friends.

Sighing, he slowly walked closer to the sea, watching the dark waves crashing and gurgling menacingly against the slick, black stones of the shoreline.

The sea… Something he used to see on a daily basis but now was as strange to him as the concept of being close to Mother, talking to Asha, being on Pyke.

He kicked a small stone into the dark waters and turned, cursing Lord Stark for choosing to come to this desolate place. Why couldn't they have gone to White Harbour? There, he could have his pick of whores without any worries. But here, he had to be careful not to get picked up by one of the women and dragged into their makeshift huts.

"What a pretty boy," one had said with a wide grin and strong arms, eyeing Theon up and down at the feast. "His hair looks so soft, and I'm sure he moans just as softly."

Theon shuddered at the memory, quickly draining the last of his mead to wash away the taste of disgust that lingered in his mouth. The empty horn dangled from his fingers as he cast one last glance at the churning sea, its inky blackness now seeming to mirror the void in his chest. With a resigned sigh, he turned and made his way back to the Mormont's hall, his footsteps muffled by the damp moss beneath his feet.

The hall was mercifully quiet as he slipped inside, the earlier revelry having died down to a low murmur of conversation and the occasional clink of cups. Theon's eyes darted around, searching for any sign of the she-bears that had made him so uncomfortable earlier. Seeing none, he quickly made his way to the large oak barrel in the corner, filling his horn with fresh, golden mead that glowed warmly in the flickering firelight.

Clutching his prize, Theon hurried back outside, the cool night air a welcome respite from the stuffy interior. He paused for a moment, allowing his eyes to readjust to the darkness, before making his way back towards his earlier perch by the old oak tree. As he approached, however, he noticed a slender silhouette standing where he had been just moments before.

Drawing closer, Theon's breath caught in his throat. There, bathed in the soft silver light of the moon, stood a young woman. Her long, slick hair looked strangely damp and her skin had the same light colour as her strange cloak. Squinting, Theon could make out that it was a sealskin - what was this girl doing here with a skagosi coat?

“If I knew you would return I would have asked for a horn as well,” she whispered gently and turned around, giving Theon a small, shy smile. “I’ve never seen such a man as yourself here.”

With an overexaggerated bow, Theon offered her his horn. Gods, she was stunning - Theon did not know if he had ever seen a woman with such a natural beauty as her, even if she looked as if she just came out of a bout of rain, her plain dress clinging to her. “Take it, my Lady. I can always just get myself a second one.”

Studying her closer, he raised an eyebrow and leaned against the tree once more, his arm above her. He had not seen her during the feast, yet she looked far too gentle, too soft to be a servant or a fisherman’s wife, not to mention being a warrior. “So you’ve been watching me then, huh? Then how come I haven’t seen you?”

The woman's smile widened, revealing teeth that seemed to gleam unnaturally in the moonlight. She accepted the horn with a graceful nod, her fingers brushing against Theon's as she took it. A shiver ran through him at the touch - her skin was cool and slightly damp, like the mist rolling in from the sea.

"Perhaps you weren't looking in the right places," she replied, her voice as soft and alluring as the gentle lapping of waves against the shore. "I prefer to keep to the shadows, away from the noise and chaos of your feasts."

Theon found himself drawn in by her mysterious aura, unable to look away from her mesmerizing gaze. Her eyes were the color of the sea at twilight, deep and unfathomable. Whatever did she mean with ‘your feasts’? Surely such a lovely thing could not be low-born. She didn’t look like she was from Bear Island either. Was she a bastard? Maybe Jorah Mormont’s?

"And what brings a lovely girl such as yourself out here on a night like this?" Theon asked, his usual cocky grin spreading across his face. "Surely not just to admire the view? The winds are cold and the feast is almost over. Or are you waiting for someone…?"

The woman took a sip of mead, her eyes never leaving Theon's. "I come here often, to listen to the sea and feel the wind on my skin. It calls to me, you see."

She gestured towards the churning waters with her free hand, and Theon could have sworn he saw webbing between her fingers for just a moment before she lowered it again. Although… didn’t the Sistermen have that as well?

"But tonight," she continued, her voice dropping to a whisper, "I sensed something different. Something... foreign. I was right,” she said, giving him the horn back. “You are of the drowned islands, are you not? Your sharp face tells me so, ‘tis a handsome one. It would have been wrong of me not to find you tonight.”

Theon laughed and gratefully took a sip of mead to try and calm his beating heart and the hardness in his breeches. She spoke plenty strangely, surely, yet she was so beautiful and spoke so frankly, yet so sweetly… and it seemed like she was truly eager to spend time, if not even the night, with him.

His laugh faded as he studied the mysterious woman more closely. Her words stirred something deep within him, a longing for home he usually tried to bury beneath bravado and drink.

"Aye, I'm from the Iron Islands," he admitted, his voice rougher than he intended. "Though it's been many years since I've seen those shores."

The woman's eyes seemed to glimmer with an otherworldly light as she stepped closer to him. The scent of salt and seaweed clung to her, intoxicating and familiar.

"The sea never forgets her children," she murmured, reaching out to trace the line of his sharp jaw with cool fingers. "Even when they're taken far from her embrace."

Theon shivered at her touch, desire and an inexplicable sense of danger warring within him. "And what of you?" he asked, trying to regain his composure. "You're clearly not from Bear Island. Where do you call home?"

A sad smile played across her lips as she gazed out at the dark waters. "My home is everywhere and nowhere," she said softly. "Wherever the tides take me. Like… what do you call them… a salt wife, but I have no master. My mistress is the sea. "

She turned back to him, her hands searching his. Something about her made him so wild, he did not even know what it was. Her quiet confidence? Her Beauty? The mystery in her voice? "But tonight, I'm here with you, my Theon of the Iron Islands. Would you like to feel the sea's embrace once more? My hut is not like the Lord Bears’ big one, but it is warm and the sea is oh so near.”

Theon hesitated for a moment, his mind racing. This woman was unlike any he had ever encountered, and something about her both thrilled and unnerved him. But the mead coursing through his veins and the ache of loneliness in his chest pushed him forward.

"Lead the way, my mysterious lady," he said with a roguish grin, offering her his arm.

She smiled, a secret dancing in her eyes, and took his arm. As they walked along the rocky shore, Theon noticed that her feet seemed to barely touch the ground, moving with an otherworldly grace over the uneven terrain. The sound of the waves grew louder, drowning out the distant noises from the Mormont hall.

Soon, they came upon a small hut nestled among the rocks, so well-hidden that Theon would have missed it entirely if not for his guide. It was a simple structure, made of driftwood and covered in seaweed, looking as if it had grown organically from the shore itself.

The woman pushed open the door, revealing a cozy interior lit by the soft glow of thick, brown candles in jars. The scent of the sea was even stronger here, mixed with something else Theon couldn't quite place – something ancient and primal, but drink and fatigue made him careless, so as soon as she closed the door behind herself, he pressed her against it and kissed her hungrily.

He could feel her smiling against his kiss. "Welcome to my humble home," she said, her voice barely audible over the crashing waves just outside as she broke away. "Would you mind if I take my coat off first and light a fire? It would be a bit more… comfortable.”

Theon reluctantly pulled away, his breath coming in short gasps. "Of course, my lady," he said with a playful bow. "Allow me to start the fire for you. It's the least I can do for such gracious hospitality."

He moved to the small hearth, gathering driftwood and kindling from a neat pile nearby. As he worked to coax a flame to life, he couldn't resist stealing glances at the mysterious woman. She stood with her back to him, slowly unfastening her sealskin coat.

"So, tell me," Theon said, his voice husky with desire, "do you often lure handsome strangers to your hidden abode? Or am I a special case?"

The firelight danced across her pale skin as she carefully folded the coat and placed it on a nearby chair. Theon's breath caught in his throat as she began to unlace her simple dress, the fabric sliding off her shoulders to pool at her feet.

She laughed softly, a sound like waves lapping at the shore. "You are indeed special, Theon of the Iron Islands. It's not often I meet someone who understands the call of the sea as I do."

She turned to face him, now clad only in a thin shift that clung to her curves like sea foam on the shore. The flickering flames cast a warm glow on her features, softening the otherworldly quality that had first captivated him.

In this light, she looked more human, more real, yet no less beautiful.

Her long hair, no longer seeming damp, cascaded down her back in waves that rivaled the sea itself. Her eyes, which had appeared so dark and fathomless outside, now shone with a warm, amber hue that reminded Theon of the mead they just drank.

"And what of you?" she asked, turning to face him. "Do you often follow mysterious women into the night?"

Theon grinned, rising from his crouched position by the now-crackling fire. "Only the exceptionally beautiful ones," he quipped, “and ones that do not wish for my gold before they have even spoken to me.”

The girl laughed and stepped closer to him, untying his own cloak and unbuttoning his black doublet. “Gold means nothing to me.”

“Really? I think you are the first woman I’ve ever heard saying something like that,” Theon muttered, trying to keep his breathing calm as her hands came to the bottom buttons of his doublet, accidentally brushing over his hardness.

“Hm,” she muttered and looked up, giving him a grin that was as coy as his own as she slipped it off him with almost unnatural grace, before she stood before him once more, gently pushing him onto her bed so she stood over him, her chest dangerously close to his face.

“On the drowned islands they also do not talk of gold. They talk of iron, my Theon. Although… it seems like you know the hardness of it. So, in turn, for tonight, I shall wish for it to mean something to me. Do you think you can do that?”

Theon's breath hitched as he gazed up at the mysterious woman, her beauty almost otherworldly in the flickering firelight. His hands found her hips, pulling her closer as he leaned in to press his lips to her stomach through the thin fabric of her shift.

"I think I can manage that," he murmured against her skin, his voice low and husky with desire. "Though I warn you, my lady, I may ruin you for all other men."

She laughed softly, running her fingers through his hair. "Oh, my sweet Theon," she whispered, "I don't think you quite understand what you've gotten yourself into."

With surprising strength, she pushed him back onto the bed, straddling his hips in one fluid motion. Theon gasped as she ground against him, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through his body. He reached up to caress her face, but she caught his wrists, pinning them above his head.

"Tell me," she purred, her lips brushing against his ear, "do you know the old stories of the sea folk? The ones who lure unsuspecting sailors to their doom?"

Theon's heart raced, a mix of excitement and unease coursing through him. "Aye," he managed to say, his voice strained. "But those are just tales to frighten children."

She pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting his. In the dim light, they seemed to shift and change, one moment they were human and the other… bigger. Darker. Just like a seal’s. “At first the tales will scare you, then they will make you long for us, before you forget them. But, my dear Theon, we exist,” she whispered, grinning widely, her hand reaching down to untie the laces of his breeches.

“Do not fear, though… I won’t bite. Not unless you ask me to, at least,” she mumbled, pushing them down, freeing his hard member, on which she sat down with a wicked grin, rubbing her moist slit gently against him, sighing contentedly. “You are of the sea - you are sweet. I will not hurt you, no, you’re too pretty for that.”

Theon's mind reeled, torn between desire and a growing sense of unease. The woman atop him was unlike any he had ever known, her beauty both alluring and terrifying. As she moved against him, he felt as if he were being pulled into the depths of the sea itself, helpless against the tide of pleasure threatening to overwhelm him.

"What... what are you?" he gasped, his hips involuntarily bucking upwards, seeking more contact, seeking to enter her, yet he was under her, he was trapped.

She leaned down, her lips brushing against his as she spoke. "I am the foam on the waves, the salt in the air, the call of the deep that echoes in your blood," she whispered. "I am what your people call a selkie."

With nimble fingers, the selkie tugged at Theon's breeches, sliding them down his legs and tossing them aside. Her eyes roamed over his body, drinking in every detail as if committing him to memory. Theon shivered, feeling exposed and vulnerable under her intense gaze.

"Beautiful," she murmured, her voice like the whisper of waves on sand. "You are a true son of the sea."

She rose gracefully, her movements fluid and hypnotic. Slowly, deliberately, she pulled her shift over her head, revealing skin as pale and smooth as polished seashells. Moonlight from the small window danced across her curves, casting her in an otherworldly glow.

Theon's breath caught in his throat as she crawled between his legs, her hair cascading around her shoulders like a waterfall of dark silk. Her cool fingers wrapped around his shaft, stroking him with a touch both gentle and confident. He gasped, his hips lifting involuntarily off the bed.

"So responsive," she purred, her eyes gleaming with approval. "Your body remembers the sea's embrace, even if your mind has forgotten."

Her thumb circled the tip of his manhood, spreading the moisture gathered there. Theon moaned, torn between the pleasure of her touch and the lingering fear of the unknown. The selkie continued her ministrations, alternating between long, languid strokes and quick, teasing caresses.

"You're even more desperate than I am,” she muttered, glancing up at him before slowly, almost shyly, licking a stripe over his cock, taking it carefully in her wonderfully soft, warm mouth.

Theon gasped as her mouth enveloped him, warm and wet like the sea itself. His fingers tangled in her hair, silky strands slipping through his grasp like water. The selkie's tongue swirled around his length, teasing and exploring with an expertise that left him breathless.

"Gods," he groaned, his head falling back against the pillow. The pleasure was intense, almost overwhelming, yet there was something else - a strange tingling sensation that spread from where her lips met his skin, flowing through his veins like the tide.

She hummed in response, the vibrations sending shocks of pleasure up his spine. Her hands caressed his thighs, nails lightly scraping against his skin. Theon's hips bucked involuntarily, driving himself deeper into her mouth.

The selkie pulled back slightly, releasing him with a soft pop. Her eyes, dark and fathomless as the deep sea, met his. "Patience, my iron prince," she murmured, her voice husky with desire. "The night is young, and I wish to see if you understand."

She crawled up his body, her skin cool and slightly damp against his. Theon reached for her, pulling her close and capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. He could taste salt on her tongue, along with his own musk.

As they kissed, she laid down next to him, evidently waiting for his next move. But what was he he to do with a girl, a woman, a being like her? Whores usually quickly satified his needs but with her… he just couldn’t bring himself to use her in such a way.

Theon hesitated, his hands hovering uncertainly over the selkie's body. She was unlike any woman he had ever been with, and he found himself at a loss. Her otherworldly beauty and mysterious nature both thrilled and intimidated him.

"What's wrong, my iron prince?" she asked, her voice a soft whisper that seemed to caress his skin. "Are you not used to a woman who knows what she wants?"

Theon swallowed hard, his pride stung by her words. "I... I've been with plenty of women," he said, trying to sound confident. "But you're different. I don't know what you want from me."

The selkie's laugh was like the tinkling of sea glass in the surf. She took his hand in hers, guiding it to her breast. Her skin was cool and smooth, like polished stone worn by the sea.

"I want you to touch me," she murmured, her eyes locked on his. "I want you to explore me as if I were uncharted waters. Can you do that, Theon of the Iron Islands?"

Her words ignited something within him, a mixture of desire and curiosity that overwhelmed his hesitation. Slowly, reverently, he began to caress her body, marveling at the way her skin seemed to shimmer in the dim light.

His fingers traced the curve of her hip, the dip of her waist, the swell of her breast. She sighed contentedly, smilig into the dimness of the hut. “More, Theon, I will not break… Show me your strength…,” she whispered.

Emboldened by her words, Theon's touch became more confident. He cupped her breast, feeling the weight of it in his palm, his thumb brushing over her nipple. The selkie arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips.

Theon leaned in, pressing his lips to the curve of her neck. He could taste salt on her skin, reminding him of sea spray on a windy day. His kisses trailed lower, across her collarbone and down to her breast. He took her nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened peak.

The selkie's fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close. "Yes," she breathed, her voice husky with desire. "Just like that."

Encouraged by her response, Theon's hand slid lower, tracing the curve of her hip and thigh. He hesitated for a moment before dipping between her legs, finding her already slick with desire. The selkie gasped as he explored her folds, her hips rolling against his hand.

"You're so wet," Theon murmured against her skin, his fingers circling her most sensitive spot.

"I am of the sea," she reminded him, her voice breathy. "Always ready to embrace those who seek me."

Theon groaned at her words, his own desire mounting. He kissed his way down her body, pausing to nip at the soft skin of her inner thigh, before he parted her soft curls with his fingers, settling between her thighs just as she had done before.

Her scent - gods - he had not even fully tasted her, yet he did not wish to part with her already, his tongue slowly touching her cunny.

The selkie gasped as Theon's tongue made contact with her most intimate place. Her fingers tightened in his hair, urging him closer. Theon obliged, his tongue exploring her folds with growing enthusiasm.

She tasted of the sea - salt and brine mingled with her own unique flavor. It was intoxicating, and Theon found himself lost in the act, his world narrowing to the sound of her soft moans and the feel of her beneath his lips and tongue.

His hands gripped her thighs, holding her steady as he worked. He traced patterns with his tongue, alternating between broad strokes and focused attention on her most sensitive spots. The selkie's hips rolled against his face.

"Oh, Theon," she breathed, her voice thick with pleasure. "You truly are a son of the sea. You know just how to please me."

Her words sent a thrill through him, spurring him on. He redoubled his efforts, sucking gently on her pearl while his fingers teased her entrance. The selkie cried out, her back arching off the bed.

Theon could feel her trembling beneath him, teetering on the edge of release. He quickly sat up, kissing her like a starved man, before pushing himself into her.

The selkie's eyes flashed with a mixture of pleasure and frustration as Theon entered her. In one fluid motion, she hooked her leg around his waist and flipped him onto his back, pinning him beneath her with surprising strength.

"Tsk, tsk," she chided, her voice a low, dangerous purr. "So eager, my iron prince. Did you forget that the sea demands patience?"

Theon gasped, overwhelmed by the sensation of being sheathed within her. Her inner walls pulsed around him, cool and slick like the embrace of the tide. He tried to thrust upward, seeking more friction, but the selkie held him firmly in place.

"I... I'm sorry," he managed to stammer, his hands instinctively moving to her hips.

The selkie caught his wrists, pinning them above his head with surprising strength. "Oh, you will be," she whispered, a wicked gleam in her eye. "The sea is patient, Theon of the Iron Islands. And so am I."

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, she began to move. Her hips rolled in a hypnotic rhythm, rising and falling like the swell of waves. Theon groaned, his hands grasping at her hips, trying to urge her to move faster. But the selkie was unyielding, setting her own pace.

She rode him with the patience of the eternal sea, each movement precise and deliberate. Her skin gleamed with a faint, otherworldly luminescence in the dim light, like moonlight on water. Theon watched, mesmerized, as droplets of moisture beaded on her skin, rolling down her body like rivulets of seawater. He longed to taste them, to run his tongue along the curves of her body, but she kept him pinned beneath her, at her mercy.

"Please," Theon gasped, his voice hoarse with need. "I need... I need..."

The selkie smiled, a predatory gleam in her eyes. "What do you need, my iron prince? Tell me."

"More," he groaned. "Faster. I need to feel you."

She leaned down, her lips brushing against his ear. "The sea gives and takes as she pleases," she whispered. "And tonight, I am the sea."

With those words, she began to move faster, her hips undulating in a rhythm that matched the crashing waves outside. Theon moaned, lost in the sensation of her around him, the cool silk of her skin against his, the intoxicating scent of salt and sex that filled the air.

The selkie's movements grew more frenzied, her breath coming in short gasps. She released Theon's wrists, bracing herself against his chest as she rode him. Freed from her grip, Theon's hands roamed her body, caressing her breasts, her hips, her thighs.

"Yes," she hissed, her head thrown back in ecstasy. "Touch me, Theon."

Theon's hands roamed the selkie's body feverishly, tracing the curves and dips of her otherworldly form. Her skin seemed to ripple beneath his touch, as if tiny waves were coursing just beneath the surface. He could feel the power of the sea thrumming through her, wild and untamed.

The selkie's movements grew more frenzied, her hips rolling and crashing against his like storm-tossed waves. Theon felt himself being pulled under, drowning in sensation. His entire world narrowed to the feel of her around him, the salt-sweet taste of her skin, the sound of her gasps and moans mingling with the distant roar of the sea.

He was close, so close. The pressure built within him like a tide ready to break. His fingers dug into her hips, pulling her down harder onto him. The selkie's inner walls clenched around him, pulsing with a rhythm that seemed to match the beating of his heart.

"Oh gods," Theon groaned, his back arching off the bed. "I'm going to-"

Suddenly, the selkie stilled. In one fluid motion, she lifted herself off him, leaving Theon gasping and desperate. He reached for her, but she evaded his grasp with a teasing smile, instead laying down on her stomach with a wicked little smile.

"Now you know what it feels like," she purred, her voice low and husky. "I am not done and neither are you."

Theon groaned in frustration, his body aching with unfulfilled desire. The selkie's eyes glimmered with mischief as she looked back at him over her shoulder, her hair cascading down her back like dark seaweed.

"Come, my iron prince," she cooed, arching her back invitingly, wiggling her full buttocks. "Show me the strength of the storm."

Theon didn't need to be told twice. He moved behind her, his hands caressing the smooth curve of her hips. The selkie sighed contentedly as he positioned himself, teasing her entrance with the tip of his manhood.

"Don't make me wait," she breathed, pushing back against him.

With a low growl, Theon thrust into her, burying himself to the hilt. The selkie cried out in pleasure, her fingers gripping the furs beneath them. Theon set a punishing pace, driven by his earlier denied release and the intoxicating power of the creature beneath him.

The sound of flesh meeting flesh mingled with their gasps and moans, creating a primal rhythm that seemed to echo the crashing waves outside. Theon's hands roamed her body, caressing her breasts, her stomach, her thighs. Every touch sent sparks of pleasure through him, as if her very skin conducted the raw energy of the sea.

The selkie met him thrust for thrust, her body undulating like the tide. She turned her head, capturing his lips in a fierce kiss. Theon kissed her back hungrily, tasting salt and desire on her lips. His hands tangled in her hair, pulling her closer as he continued to drive into her. The selkie moaned into his mouth, her body trembling beneath him.

Breaking the kiss, she gasped, "Yes, Theon. Just like that. Be good for me, please… give me… just like…."

Her words ignited something primal within him. Theon's thrusts became more forceful, more desperate. He could feel the pressure building again, a tidal wave of pleasure threatening to overwhelm him.

The selkie's inner walls clenched around him, her body shuddering with each thrust. She buried her face in the furs, muffling her cries of ecstasy. Theon could feel her climax approaching, her muscles tensing beneath his hands.

"Look at me," he growled, surprising himself with the command in his voice. "I want to see your face when you come undone."

The selkie turned her head, her eyes meeting his. In that moment, Theon saw the vastness of the sea in her gaze - deep, mysterious, and utterly wild. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

With a final, powerful thrust, Theon felt himself tipping over the edge. The selkie cried out, her body arching beneath him as her own release crashed over her. Theon groaned, burying himself deep inside her as wave after wave of pleasure washed over him. It felt like he was being pulled into the depths of the sea itself, drowning in ecstasy.

As the intensity of their shared climax began to ebb, Theon collapsed onto the selkie's back, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He could feel her heart racing beneath him, her skin cool and slightly damp against his chest. For a long moment, they lay there, intertwined and breathless.

Slowly, carefully, Theon rolled off her, falling onto his back beside her on the narrow bed. The selkie turned to face him, her eyes now soft and warm like the sea on a calm summer day. She reached out, tracing the line of his jaw with gentle fingers.

"You have pleased me well, my iron prince," she murmured, her voice rich with satisfaction. "The sea will remember you fondly."

Theon chuckled weakly, still trying to catch his breath. "I don't think I'll ever forget this night," he said, turning his head to meet her gaze. "Or you."

The selkie smiled, a hint of sadness in her eyes. "Perhaps," she said softly. "But the memories of men are often as fleeting as seafoam on the shore."

She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips before rising from the bed. Theon watched, mesmerized, as she moved about the small hut, her body glowing faintly in the dim light. She retrieved her cloak, fastening it around her shoulders, and gave him a sad, sorrowful little smile. “Go back to the bears now, my kraken. I’m sure you are missed.”

“But… can you not just… stay here? For a while at least?”, Theon asked, quickly gathering up his own clothing. Normally he would’ve left just as quickly as she was about to, yet she was no Ros, no Wintertown whore.

The selkie paused, her hand on the door. She turned back to Theon, her eyes softening with a mixture of fondness and regret.

"Oh, my sweet iron prince," she said softly. "Your words warm my heart, but I cannot stay. The sea calls to me, as it always has and always will."

Theon felt a pang in his chest, a longing he couldn't quite name. He stood, still naked, and took a step towards her. "Then let me come with you," he said impulsively. "Just for a while. I... I miss the sea."

The selkie's smile was sad and knowing. She reached out, cupping his cheek in her cool hand. "You are not ready for my world, Theon of the Iron Islands. Your path lies elsewhere, at least for now."

She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. Theon could taste the salt of the sea on her breath, feel the pull of the tide in her touch. When she pulled away, her eyes seemed to shimmer with unshed tears.

"But know this," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the crashing waves outside. "The sea never forgets her children. When the time comes, if you truly wish it, you may find your way back to us."

With those words, she slipped out the door and into the night. Theon rushed after her, but as he stepped outside, he saw only the empty beach and the vast, freezing waters, the selkie’s figure retreating into the waves.

Theon stood on the shore, the cool night air raising goosebumps on his bare skin. He watched the waves crash against the rocky beach, searching for any sign of the mysterious selkie, but she had vanished as completely as if she had never existed. The only evidence of their encounter was the lingering taste of salt on his lips and the slight ache in his muscles.

With a heavy sigh, Theon turned back to the small hut. The interior still smelled of sea and sex, and for a moment, he wondered if he had dreamed the entire encounter. But no, his clothes were strewn about the floor, and he could still feel the ghost of her touch on his skin.

Slowly, he began to dress himself. His fingers fumbled with the laces of his breeches, his mind still clouded with the intoxicating memory of the selkie. As he pulled on his tunic, he noticed it smelled faintly of seaweed and brine. He wondered idly if Lord Stark would notice, then dismissed the thought. The old wolf rarely paid him much attention anyway.

Theon retrieved his cloak from where it had fallen, shaking out the sand before fastening it around his shoulders. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to tame the wild locks that the selkie had so eagerly mussed. As he did so, he felt something caught in the strands – a single, iridescent scale that gleamed in the dim light. He stared at it and reverently tucked it into his satchel.

Stepping out of the hut, Theon took one last look at the sea. The moon hung low on the horizon, its reflection shimmering on the dark waters. For a moment, he thought he saw a seal's head bobbing in the waves, watching him with knowing eyes. But when he blinked, it was gone. The sea had claimed him, he thought, and he would honour it.

#asas fics #fanfiction #game of thrones #asoiaf #theon greyjoy #theon greyjoy smut #theon greyjoy x reader #selkie

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ddejavvu · 2 years ago

Note

Do you think you could do Sirius Black with the “I hate everyone but you.” Personality.

James is immediately alerted to your glum mood when you sit down without so much as a greeting, and he leans across the table with narrowed eyes.

"What's'a matter, Y/L/N?"

"Sirius is mad at me." You reveal drearily, wrapping your hand around the fork set at your place even if you don't feel like eating.

"Oh," James's brow scrunches, "Don't take it personal, babe. He's having a shit day, he heard from his mum. Nothing nice, I bet. Wouldn't let me see it. Just- he's grouchy with everyone today, don't let it bother you."

"But he told me to come back tomorrow," You recount, "Like he can't stand seeing me for the entire day! What am I supposed to do, James, we're set to study in the library at three. And- and I could help him! I could be there for him, but he's pushing me away instead."

James's brows raise, and a pitying smile works its way over his face, "Love. You're the kind of person that wants to be around people all the time. You seek comfort out when you're sad; Sirius doesn't. If you love him, y'gotta let him sulk for a bit. Then he'll come to you. And-" His nose scrunches, his brows wrinkled, "And all he said was 'come back tomorrow'? That's nothing. He told me to get my bespectacled arse out of the room before he shut the window on my head."

Your face contorts in horror, "James! James, that's so mean, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, darling." He snickers, "That's what I mean, that's just what Sirius does."

"Not to me he doesn't," You frown, "That's not okay, James, he should treat you better than that."

"He's having a rough time," James shrugs, "Doesn't bother me. He's all talk, he'd never do any of it. Just needs to blow off steam, y'know? And I think we both know why he tones it down for you, Y/N."

"I'm not special," You snap, reigniting the age-old argument between you and James that Sirius totally does not have feelings for you, not one bit.

"Right," James gives you an overexaggerated roll of his eyes, curls bouncing as he does so, "That's why he threatened to behead me and all he did to you was kindly shoo you away."

"Maybe you just piss him off more than me," You stick your tongue out at him, and turn to Remus for support as the boy sits down beside you.

"Morning," James takes the lead, shooting you a smirk out of the corner of his eye, "Talk to Sirius today, Moony?"

"Little shit told me if I didn't stop talking to him - which I only tried once, by the way," Remus groans, "- he'd 'mess me up' so hard my transformations felt like reprieve."

James's eyes widen and he tries tamping down a snort, tucking into his breakfast instead. Remus turns to you and your once-more incredulous gaze, scoffing lightly, "And I suppose he just told you to come back tomorrow?"

"That's exactly it!" James slams a fist on the table, a chunk of egg flying from his mouth that Remus shakes off of his hand with a grimace, "Moony, tell her she's special."

"I'm not special," You desperately try deluding yourself, shoveling your own forkful of food into your mouth as soon as you're done speaking, so that you don't have to answer to their protests, "He just hates you both."

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toomuchracket · 11 months ago

Text

summer wine (dad!matty x reader smut)

the penultimate tmr summer75 fic. first date night since baba 1. fluffy as hell but also sexy. enjoy <3

“will you get a bloody move on? you're going to be late!”

“relax, mum,” you shout back, capping your lipstick and stomping out of the bathroom. as you catch sight of her at the bottom of the stairs, you glare at her. “stop trying to kick me out of my own house. and stop swearing in front of your granddaughter!”

you can hear matty laugh from the living room, while your mum rolls her eyes. “it's hardly a swear word, bloody. ‘specially not where we're all from.”

“well, yeah, but we're not in manchester right now, are we?”

“could be,” she makes a pouty face, the same one you inherited and the same one dylan will likely get too. “if the two of you would move back home, let me and denise see our granddaughter more often.”

matty wanders through, dylan babbling away in his arms. he nudges your mum. “that listing you sent the other day was nice.”

“wasn't it? can just see dyl running about in that garden.”

“yeah, me too. and the-”

“hang on a minute,” you hold your index finger up, pinching the bridge of your nose in exasperation with the other hand. “you've been discussing houses for sale in manchester? without me?”

they nod, and you grit your teeth at their lack of shame, before nodding at your mum. “always knew you loved him more than me.”

she rolls her eyes again, while your husband bites back a smile. “oh, here we go again, this old chestnut…”

“no, it's true,” you sigh, overexaggerated, scooping your baby from matty's arms and cuddling her into you (and doing your best not to drop the bit and smile at her happy coos). “you're the only one who cares about me, dyl.”

matty wraps his arms around your waist, kissing your cheek and looking down at the baby. “mummy's telling fibs, munchkin, we all care about her very much. and i think she looks beautiful.”

“sap,” you lean round to peck him. “thank you, though. you've scrubbed up well tonight too.”

“yeah, you both look good,” your mum smiles. “the three of you, i should say - dyl's showing you up, though, if i'm honest.”

you and matty laugh, and you lift your daughter to kiss all over her little face; the little happy noises she lets out are possibly the best thing you've ever heard. “my perfect girl. you're gonna have so much fun with gran tonight, munchkin!” hugging her properly, you do your best to keep a lid on the sudden melancholy you feel about leaving her. “be back first thing tomorrow, i promise.”

“and if you need us tonight, gran'll tell us, and we'll come home,” matty adds, taking the baby to give her his own cuddle - he holds her up so their faces are level, and speaks again. “and i love you, but please try not to do that. mummy's done so much for you and i lately, and she deserves a night off, yeah?” he kisses her little nose, smiling at the way she scrunches it up the same way you do. “see you in the morning, my darling.”

your mum beams, taking dylan from matty and kissing his cheek, then yours. “oh, we’ll be fine. now go! have a good night!”

you stroke your baby's head a final time, and squeeze your mum's hand before grabbing matty's. “love you both. bye!”

matty follows suit, bidding your family goodbye before following you out to the car; he speeds ahead to open the passenger door for you, and you giggle. “how chivalrous of you.”

“duh,” he gets into the driver's seat, leaning over to kiss you sweetly before starting the car. “first date night as mum and dad. s'a big deal, babe - tonight is going to be perfect.”

he isn't wrong, actually. and you know you and matty could have a good time together in any circumstances, but tonight's are particularly sweet - dinner in the italian small plates place you've loved since it opened a few years ago, then a drive to get some ice cream and drop the car near where you're staying tonight, and finally a wander in the evening sunshine to a new wine bar a girl at work recommended. there aren't any tables left indoors when you arrive, so you go al fresco; it's dreamy, you think, sitting in the fresh air with the love of your life, with a bottle of red and a cigarette or two each, the setting sun warming your skin and glinting off the wedding rings on you and matty's hands.

he kisses yours, looking - as he always has, really - adoringly at you with the big brown eyes you're actually disappointed your daughter didn't inherit. “have i already told you that you're beautiful?”

“seven times and counting,” your cheeks burn, and you busy yourself with intertwining his and your fingers as a distraction. “you've got baby brain, my love.”

“no, i think you're just that beautiful that i have to keep saying it,” matty smiles. “y'having a good night?”

“the best. though it feels a bit weird without dyl, to be honest.”

“yeah,” he laughs. “i keep forgetting that it's just you and i tonight.”

you stare at him, blinking. his brow furrows. “what?”

“just waiting for you to finish the lyric, s'all.”

“oh, for fuck's sake,” your husband shakes his head, doing his best to keep the smile from his face while he takes a drink of wine. “you little groupie, clocking the lyric before i did.”

you shrug, taking a sip from your own glass. “i'm extra-sensitive to that song, babe. i remember when you wrote it, one of the nights you stayed at uni with me,” the memory makes you smile. “we were drinking red wine that night, too. wasn't as nice as this one, though.”

matty smiles, one of those slow, sweet smiles that end up taking over his whole face; your heart flutters when he kisses your hand again. “used to dream about nights like this back in those days, you know? me, you, married, on a date. dreamt up dyl back then too and all.”

“you had the baby dream?”

“yeah,” his cheeks go pink. god, you love him. “happened more often when we moved into the flat, but the first time i had it was in your room at uni. and it was dylan i dreamed of, exactly as she was born - hair like mine, face like yours, asleep in my arms while you made a cuppa and spoke to me,” matty looks up at you, eyes slightly teary. “it was always going to be you, darling. you, and me, and her. m'sorry that it took so long for us to end up there - here, i should say.”

“oh, matty,” you kiss his hand, smiling when he caresses your cheek. “i'm not sorry it took the time it did, you know - we got to a good place within ourselves and our relationship before we had our girl, and she's going to grow up in the best possible circumstances because we did, yeah? besides,” you wink. “i always knew you'd end up putting a ring on my finger. i wasn't worried about the timings.”

your husband laughs, wiping his eyes before leaning in to kiss you softly; as always, you get butterflies when he does. “i love you.”

“i love you,” you down your glass of wine as classily as you can, and smile at him. “and i would really love to show you how much, if you'd be up for that.”

“always, darling.”

***

“jesus christ, it's like stepping back in time,” you giggle deliriously as you cross the threshold to the old flat, tapping the guitar head key-holder before turning back to matty. “except now you've got grey hair, and i've got stretchmarks.”

he grins, pulling you close. “i love your stretchmarks.”

“and i find the grey really, really sexy,” you weave your hands into his hair, pressing your lips against his and moaning when his hands squeeze your arse. matty takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, tongue tracing your lips before licking into your mouth, sending heat flooding through your veins and into your underwear - after a minute, you pull back to breathe, beaming at the familiar manic glint of arousal in his eyes. “fuck, i've missed this… take me to bed, please?”

“whatever my sweet girl wants,” matty wraps your legs around his waist and kisses you again, and you're briefly aware of being carried somewhere before you're gently plopped on a bed. he smiles at you, and looks around your old bedroom. “wasn't even sure where we were gonna end up, to be honest, darling - that was muscle memory, that.”

you look around the room, noting the absence of dust on the surfaces and the fresh smell of the bedding before smirking at your husband. “nah, you planned this, i know it.”

his jaw falls open. “i did not.”

“no?” you tilt your head. “you mean you didn't take the opportunity to make my old bedroom all neat for us to shag in, as soon as i suggested we go to a bar in east for date night?”

he smirks. “must be coincidence.”

“hmm,” so quickly matty can't react, you reach into the bedside drawer, laughing when you pull out exactly what you expected to find - a fresh box of condoms. “oh, you sappy little git, matthew.”

“i-” matty's face is beet red; it falls into an expression of slight defeat when you wave the box at him. “alright, fine, i admit it - i might've come in here a couple of days ago to set up.”

you hum, lying back down on the pillows and busying yourself with pulling strings of condoms from the box. matty lurks sheepishly at the bottom of the bed; when he clears his throat, you look up at him, and grin. “are you waiting for me to say the line? you are, aren't you?”

“no,” comes the response, in a voice that suggests otherwise.

“you're so weird, baby,” you sigh, before smiling knowingly at him. “but i think you should get over here, healy - i want to kiss you,” you giggle when he jumps onto the bed, kissing his cheek and whispering in his ear. “and fuck you. well… you to fuck me, but you know what i mean.”

“‘course i do,” his lips find your neck, and you sigh in bliss. “needy girl.”

bliss ruined. you glare at him. “you prepped all those condoms, and i'm the needy one?”

“i'm just keeping up with demand, sweetheart,” matty raises his hands in mock surrender, and then brings them to your tits. “i know what my wife needs.”

fuck.

you beam, breathing heavily as you murmur. “say it again.”

he hums, kissing slowly up your neck to whisper in your ear. “i know what my wife needs.”

the heat in your body becomes too much to bear; your hands fly to the buttons of matty's shirt, deftly undoing them as you lean blindly up to kiss him. he reciprocates eagerly, taking your top lip between his teeth while his hands busy themselves with dragging your dress down by the straps. you work quickly, efficiently, the years of practice put in in this very room ensuring you both end up in your underwear in seconds flat, lips connected and only breaking apart when breathing becomes an absolute necessity.

it's at this moment that matty catches sight of your new lingerie for the first time, lust-black eyes widening (and clothed dick hardening) as he drinks in your body, wrapped in a babydoll made of dark red mesh. his hands slide softly up your thighs, which part to give him a look at the matching panties; the moan he lets out is enough to soak them. “oh, baby.”

“you like it?” suddenly shy, goosebumps fluttering across your skin at the realisation that this is the first time you've been quite so exposed since having the baby, your voice goes small. “i look… alright?”

it's testament to how well matty knows you that he immediately leans forward to stroke your face reassuringly, resting his forehead against yours so tenderly you could cry. “you look perfect, my darling - so, so beautiful.”

you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. “really?”

“yes, angel,” the kiss that follows his words is sweet, but still passionate enough to dispel all worry from your mind. “d'you wanna keep your dress thing on? we'll do whatever's most comfortable.”

“no, take it off, please - just lift it, babe,” you smile as matty fumbles with the lingerie, giggling along with him as he successfully manages to pull it over your head. “hi.”

“hi,” comes the breathy reply, followed by a kiss between your boobs. when you let out a little moan, matty presses kisses all over your chest, trailing them up across your neck to your lips. “have i told you how fucking sexy i think you are?”

you giggle. “high praise, that, coming from the world's hottest dad.”

“fuck yeah,” he sits back on his heels, eyes trailing up and down your body, mouth parting slightly in the way it always does when he's really, really turned on. “christ, you've no idea how much i want you.”

“yeah, i do,” you lightly drag your nails down your husband's chest and stomach, hooking them into the waistband of his boxers. “s'been too long, baby. need you inside me again.”

“shit. take your panties off for me, darling… yeah, just like that,” matty's eyes don't leave your soaked cunt at all as he takes his own underwear off; your gaze fixates on his dick, excitement fizzing as you watch him reach for a condom and roll it on, smile splitting your face as he settles himself above you. “fuck, i'm a little bit nervous.”

“why, darling?” you take his face in your hands, thumbs gently rubbing his cheekbones. “s'just me, yeah? me and you in our bed. done it a thousand times before.”

matty smirks. there he is. “think we can do another thousand tonight?”

you smirk to match. “we can try.”

“oh, i love you,” he kisses you again, slowly running his dick along your core. “you ready, darling?”

“yeah. love you,” you smile into the kiss, moaning softly in harmony with matty as he slowly slides home. “fuck, you feel good.”

“not as good as you,” comes the mumbled reply, matty's eyes rolling back into his head as he tentatively begins thrusting into you. “missed this.”

you giggle breathily, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer. “s'only been a couple of months, baby, we've gone longer without fucking before.”

“yeah, but - oh, fuck, do that again,” matty gasps into your neck as you dig your nails into his back, kissing across your face so he can smile at you, and blush as you wink. “you're so fucking hot.”

you roll your eyes. “shut up.”

“no, i'm serious,” he sits back on his heels, gently lifting your legs onto his shoulders so he can see you a bit better while he fucks you; you're not complaining about the new angle, either. “i have literally never found you sexier than you are right now. ever,” he kisses your calf muscle. “which is why not being allowed to fuck you until now has fucking killed me.”

there isn't even a slither of insincerity in his voice, or on that gorgeous face of his. yours burns, still unused to your husband's compliments after all this time, and your hands gently skim the outline of your chest and hips. “you've been looking delicious, lately, too.”

matty laughs. “delicious?”

“yeah,” you bite the tip of your index finger, sighing happily at the feeling of being fucked slowly. “practically on my knees every time i see you hold the baby, you know. and especially when you do it shirtless,” you let out a low whistle. “not to be crude, but… yeah, i'd take it anywhere you wanted.”

he throws his head back, cackling. “well, darling, you're doing just that,” he leans forward to kiss you, stretching your legs in the most gorgeous way. “d'you wanna try taking it a bit harder? up to you.”

“yeah,” you breathe into him. “fuck me, matty. please.”

“since you asked so nicely,” he pecks your lips, before slamming into you with a groan and repeating the motion, over and over and over. “jesus christ, baby.”

you can't speak, a mixture of pleasure haze and just sheer love for matty clouding your brain and closing your throat to everything but little moans and whines, those noises he loves so much; it's obvious from the way he smiles and speeds up when he hears them how much he loves them, and obvious from the way he kisses and the way his eyes sparkle how much he loves you. they've sparkled for you like that for the better part of fifteen years, and a sudden wave of some inexplicable emotion washes over you when you think about how long you and matty have loved each other, and now you've ended up here.

you don't realise you're crying until he slows down, face concerned, and wipes the tears from your lashline with his thumbs. “what is it, my darling?” his voice is soft, soothing, exactly the same as it is when he talks to your baby girl. “everything alright?”

nuzzling into his hand, you nod, sniffling. “i just really, really love you, matty.”

he smiles, eyes crinkling and filling up to match yours. “i love you. girl of my dreams, mother of my baby, love of my life.”

the two of you stay like that the rest of the night, matty fucking you slowly, deeply, tenderly, both of you trading sweet words and i love yous and kisses that feel like home. getting each other off isn't the priority anymore, dropped in favour of simply loving, but your orgasm is as intense as ever; maybe even more so, actually, limbs wrapping around matty and tears falling onto his skin as he gets you there and holds you through it with a “my girl, my beautiful, beautiful girl”, before burying his head in the crook of your neck as he spills into the condom with a whimper.

for the briefest of moments afterwards, there's silence in the room, the only sound your respective heavy breathing as you recover; it's broken, as always, by your husband, kissing your cheek before moving to pull out of you and pull off the condom. you giggle when he launches it with pinpoint accuracy into the bin in the corner of the room, moving to snuggle against his chest once he settles back onto the bed. “i think,” you begin, tracing the tattoo on his chest. “it's safe to say that you've still got it.”

he snorts. “d'you mean the sex, or my aim in chucking shit in that bin?”

“both,” you kiss over his heart, looking up at him adoringly. like you could look at him any other way. “that was really special, baby. thank you.”

he strokes your hair. “anything for you, my love,” his finger slides down your nose, booping the end, and he giggles when you scrunch your face up. “round two, in a minute? we still have all those condoms to get through.”

“in a minute, yeah,” you grin, climbing atop your husband and grinding down onto his lap. “but this time, i'm on top.”

#mads muses #mads does writing #dad!matty #summer75 #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fic #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy smut #matty healy x reader #matty x reader

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apollosgiftofprophecy · 1 year ago

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what are your thoughts on the olympians’ thrones? we know that they are connected to the power of the gods, and that kronos’ tactic was to destroy olympus/their thrones in order to weaken them (so when kronos destroyed the arm rest of ares’ throne, did that weaken him during the battle with typhon?)

but why should the destruction of their thrones weaken them? isn’t the source of their power, their divinity, well, themselves? and what of minor gods? or what about during the first titanomachy? sorry for the lengthy question but it’s all very confusing and im interested in hearing your take.

THE OLYMPIAN THRONES

first let's see what Dionysus had to say about this in The Last Olympian

"Whichever! Now listen, the situation is graver than you imagine. If Olympus falls, not only will the gods fade, but everything that is connected to our legacy will also begin to unravel. The very fabric of your puny little civilization—"

"Yes, yes. Your entire society will dissolve. Perhaps not right away, but mark my words, the chaos of the Titans will mean the end of Western civilization. Art, law, wine tastings, music, video games, silk shirts, black velvet paintings—all the things that make life worth living will disappear!"

"—the other gods would never admit this, but we actually need you mortals to rescue Olympus. You see, we are manifestations of your culture. If you don't care enough to save Olympus yourselves—"

Let's look at the third part first! Dionysus tells us that the gods are manifestations of human culture. And as we know, in the RRverse, the gods have moved around with the flame of progression, where the most human power is allocated. This is why they are in the US in the RRverse, and why they tend to reflect a more American culture (ie, Zeus in a CEO suit, Poseidon as a fisherman, Ares is a biker, ect.)

So what I'm getting from Dionysus's explanation here, is that the gods and human culture are intrinsically intertwined with each other. You can't have one without the other and all that. If human culture fades, the gods weaken, and if the gods weaken, human culture fades.

Something interesting to note here is that Dionysus says that the gods will fade if their thrones are destroyed...interesting, considering Dionysus and Percy also discuss how Pan faded.

But Pan didn't fade because of a lack of human belief/culture - he faded because his domain was being destroyed. Helios and Selene faded because they lost faith in themselves.

I think Dionysus might be overexaggerating a bit here. I don't think the gods would have necessarily faded if their thrones were destroyed- just significantly weakened. And perhaps, weak enough that if they ever just decided to give up...they would fade.

(Which brings up an interesting notion of Dionysus fearing them fading, because maybe that implies he thinks not all of them have the willpower to push through that...food for thought)

Kronos destroying Ares's arm rest is curious, since after the defeat of Typhon, we see the Olympian gods and nothing is out of the ordinary, even with Ares. So I'm guessing the arm rest getting cut off didn't exactly affect Ares, but if a larger piece of the throne or even the throne itself was sliced up? We'd have a different story.

I believe the source of the gods' power comes from a variety of places- mortal belief, their thrones, and belief in themselves. We see the latter occurring with Apollo in The Tower of Nero especially, where he's able to bring himself back into immortality on his own willpower, and I think we even see this happening with Hades and Poseidon, leaving their respected realms to come to the aid of Olympus and leaving behind their grudge (Hades) and ego (Poseidon) for the greater good.

This brings up an interesting idea, then. The Olympians have three main sources of power. But are they even aware of the third?

Because think about it. People, in series and out, have automatically assumed Helios and Selene faded because of a lack of mortal belief. But, that is not what happened, for they were still majorly worshipped- instead, it was a lack of faith in themselves. They lost their sense of self.

So I think the "power ranking" of these sources go as follows;

Belief in self

Mortal belief

Thrones

Mortal belief is often talked about, especially in ToA where Nero tells us mortals gave him a prolonged life and eventually immortality. He does not have a throne like the Olympians, though he does have a fasces, where his immortality is stored.

Could it be that the Olympian's immortality is stored in their thrones? Maybe. But remember, Nero is a wannabe god. There has to be drawbacks to that, and I bet the fasces was one of them. He has to contain his immortality in something, while the Olympians do not, because they are immortal. Full stop.

Now minor gods...this is a bit trickier, but I think minor gods have a power scaling of their own. The Olympians are on another level for godly power- they are The Squad so to speak.

How powerful minor gods are I think depends on their domain, as well as mortal belief/their own belief.

Hecate, for example, is probably exceptionally powerful for a minor goddess because of her position as the goddess of magic, the Mist, and crossroads among other things (did you know she has some influence over prophecy? ;3 she and Apollo were two sides of the same coin when it came to prophecy).

Iris is probably not as powerful as Hecate is, because, uh, rainbows aren't exactly powerful when it comes to magic XD

As for the Elder Olympians' power during the Titanomachy...that's also interesting to think about. Imo, I think their power grew over the time of the war, since they didn't really have the opportunity to fine-tune anything what with being in Kronos's stomach and all lol

Zeus probably got more practice in when he was young, but probably not as much when he became cupbearer. And I also think the symbols of power of the Big Three help channel their power- which now has a funny image because here are the guys learning how to focus their power with training wheels while the girls are just fucking around and finding out.

Demeter probably strangled a few people with her plants. Hera probably unleased a hoard of peacocks on someone. Hestia no doubt set a few things on fire.

lmao, that's funny to think about.

Anyway, finally got around to this one!!! :D

#the oracle speaks #anon ask #asked and answered #the trials of apollo #ramblings of an oracle #trials of apollo #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo dionysus #pjo apollo #toa apollo #pjo zeus #pjo poseidon #pjo hades #pjo demeter #pjo hera #pjo hestia #the last olympian

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morganski-19 · 2 years ago

Text

Things I Won't Say When I'm Sober

inspired by this post by @imfinereallyy. I saw this post ages ago but literally just found this idea in my drafts and decided to finally write it,

part 2

Steve lies across the floor of Eddie’s new trailer, mind hazy, with Robin’s limbs haphazardly laying on him. He’s mindlessly running his hands along the carpet, feeling the soft fiber under his hand. Eddie’s hand reaches into his vision as he passes Steve the joint. He really doesn’t need to take anymore, his muscles already relaxed more than they have been in a while, and his mind is slipping into that territory that might give him a panic attack if he goes too far. But he’s with people he trusts and Robin will cut him off before any of that happens, if he won’t cut himself off before then.

He blows the smoke up into the air as Eddie takes back the joint. Running his hand across the carpet again, he brushes against something different. Curious, he starts playing with it, rolling it between his fingers, tugging on it a bit to see if he can tell what it is.

“Stevie,” Eddie slurs. Steve hums. “Why are you playing with my hair?”

Steve’s eyebrows furrow. “This is your hair?” He tugs on the strand between his fingers a bit.

“Yes, and I'd appreciate it if you’d stop pulling on it.”

“It’s so soft,” Steve finds himself saying, not dropping the hair between his fingers, instead picking up more.

Robin bursts out laughing. “How high are you, dingus?”

Steve shrugs. “Pretty high I guess.”

“Could you stop playing with my hair?” Eddie complains, rolling away a bit and almost kicking Steve in the face.

He moves his hand away from Eddie’s hair and brings it up behind his head. Robin shifts, rolling off of Steve and starting to stand up.

“Where are you going?” Steve complains, needy.

“The bathroom,” Robin deadpans. “Why?”

The giggles kick in and Steve struggles to get the words out. “Cause I have a secret and I need to tell you it.”

The secret in question was Steve’s crush on Eddie. Something he’s buried deeper than he’s willing to admit and something that he’s barely come to accept. But something about the safe feeling of his friends and the weed loosening his thoughts to stop the denial and face the facts made him want to tell her. It’s not the first time that he’s thought that his attraction to Eddie was a fact and not just the desire to be friends. That it wasn’t normal for people to fantasize about kissing their best friends and sharing the same bed all the time.

It took time for Steve to realize that these thoughts were ok for him to have. That he could have feelings for girls in the past while also having feelings for a boy now. That it’s ok for him to be having feelings for a boy at all. He is who he is, and who he likes won’t change that. The Steve he was when he dated girls isn’t different from the Steve who has a crush on a boy. It’s all him, even if he didn’t know he was capable of doing it.

The main problem was that he hadn’t told Robin about it yet, and it seems that his hazy mind decided that now was the best time. Now, when Eddie, the person he has a crush on, is still in the room.

“And this secret is hilarious?” Robin joins in on the giggles but tries to hide it. “Can you tell me the secret so I can go to the bathroom?”

Steve shakes his head while giggling more, now realizing his mistake and thinking it’s hilarious rather than embarrassing. “No.”

Robin rolls her eyes. “No?”

“Mhm. Can’t tell you.”

“So you have a secret that you need to tell me but can’t tell me. Why is that, Steven?” Robin very annoyingly asks, only pulling out the full name when she wants him to get to the point.

“Eddie’s in the room,” Steve says like it’s the simplest fact there is.

Eddie sits up. “Why can’t I know your secret?”

“Cause it’s a Robin secret. You don’t get to know those.”

Robin rolls her eyes again while Eddie makes an overexaggerated offended look. “I’m going to the bathroom, you two can figure this out while I’m gone.”

Steve stops his giggles to roll over and grab at Robin’s legs as she gets up, attempting to stop her from leaving. She steps out of his grasp and makes her way out of the room. He lays there pouting for a second before bursting out in laughter again.

“So keeping secrets from me is so funny now isn’t it,” Eddie pouts.

“I am so high,” he manages to get out between giggles as he rolls back onto his back.

Eddie rolls his eyes before laying down next to him, their heads next to each other this time. “Yeah, I can tell. You don’t normally laugh this much when you’re not.”

The weed is doing nothing to stop the blush that covers Steve’s face, though his face was plenty red before so maybe it would hide it. “You notice that about me?”

“I notice a lot of things about you, Steve,” Eddie responds sincerely, turning his head to look Steve in the eyes.

Maybe it’s the high, maybe it isn’t, but Steve can’t help but think that the look Eddie has in his eyes is the same one that he finds himself getting every time he looks at Eddie. The simple want of something more that can never be. To be more than all that they are, friends.

A look that tells Steve that if he leaned in for a moment, maybe Eddie wouldn’t back away. Maybe he would let it happen. Maybe he would lean in too. Maybe all of the things Steve has accepted that he wants could come true.

Not that he would even try right now. He’s high, Eddie’s high. No person’s first kiss with someone they really care about should be like this. It should be in a state where they could remember it. Where they could look back on it in the future and remember every detail. Or maybe it should be done when he’s a little bit high. Maybe then he won’t second guess himself at the last minute and actually go through with it. Then if it ends badly, he has the chance of forgetting the little details but is left with the knowledge that this is hopeless. Then he can get over it.

He has the feeling that getting over Eddie would be hard though. The feelings that bubble over in his chest every time he’s around Eddie are all but proof of that. This is different, more than he’s felt about someone in a long time. The most he’s felt about a person since Nancy.

That scares him, still scares him. That he can look at another person the way he looked at her. Or more, he can feel something for someone on that level again, but this time completely differently. He likes Eddie for different reasons then he liked Nancy, but it doesn’t change the way he feels about him. This affection, this crush, this almost love is deep. Steve doesn’t want to mess it up this time.

“I’m not that offended that you won’t tell me you’re secret,” Eddie whispers, like this moment isn’t meant to be heard even though they’re the only ones in the room. “I know that you and Robin share pretty much everything. So if it’s meant for her ears only I understand. I just hope you might be able to tell me one day.”

“Eddie, I-” Steve stammers, cut off by the sound of Robin entering the room again.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #stranger things #ficlet #cw: smoking #angst #getting together #but not yet #pining #things i wont say when i’m sober #cw smoking

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pixiesfz · 2 years ago

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Hi how are you and love your fics and would you write for Charli grant also Katrina gorry

heya!, I'm doing well thankyou I actually have a cute idea of Charli and the reader going to the Australian woman of the year awards together!!

plot: Y/N and Charli are injured and can't go to the Matildas camp in Canada, therefor they are asked to represent the Matildas at the Australian Woman of the Year awards (imagine reader in the red mini dress Margot Robbie wore for a barbie premiere)

Warnings: fluff, mentions of anxiety (ik dates don't add up...live the fantasy)

When you sprained your ankle at the Leicester vs Arsenal game you were upset that you couldn't take part in the last international camp of the year, you considered all of the girls like family.

Then Charli also injured herself, ruling you both out of the camp. It was then you decided that you could both go home to your families in Australia and spend your week there.

You forgot about your injury and instead got excited, you hadn't physically seen your girlfriend in about three weeks and you had missed her so much.

Kyra gave you so much shit for it.

When the plane to Sydney landed you knew she would be at the Airport waiting so you flashed a smile quickly to the person who thankfully didn't snore who sat behind you and made your way out of the plane.

You saw her from a mile away with her bright perfect smile and blonde wavy locks. She was the definition of sunlight in your eyes and every time you saw her you felt like you were falling in love all over again.

When you quickened up your steps to get to her you let go of your suitcase and engulfed her in a bone-crushing hug.

"hello to you to babe" she laughed and you squeezed her tighter "I missed you Chaz"

"I missed you too" she said and relaxed into your touch. You both stayed like that before she let you go and reached into her bag, bringing out two tickets.

"I may have agreed to something" she sheepishly smiled and you laughed "what did you do?" you ask and she held out the tickets to you.

"Woman of the year awards" you read out before she pointed at them again "you missed something"

You looked back down at the ticket and furrowed your brows until you saw it.

"Tonight?!"

"Surprise!" Charli smiled cautiously as she watched your face "I know they're last minute but it would be you and me representing the Matilda's whilst they're at camp and plus we get to dress up" she added on, grabbing your hands.

You gave in and smiled "Okay," you told her "I don't have a dress though, I didn't think 'big event' would've been something I should've packed for" you said and Charli laughed "They've got us dresses babe" she told you before giving you a soft kiss on the lips.

"Can we go home?" you asked with an overexaggerated pout "if I'm going to this thing I'm gonna need a rest to get rid of these eyebags" you pointed at your eyes and Charli grabbed the tickets out of your hand.

"Oh please you will be the most sexy woman there" she encouraged and grabbed your hand "let's go".

You were both at your family home, laying on your childhood bed, napping with your legs entangled together.

You watched Charli sleep with a smile, she was gorgeous, you didn't know that she was doing the same thing ten minutes ago when you were fast asleep.

You got up to the end of the bed and checked your phone for the time, three o'clock. You knew you had to wake Charli up to get ready.

But before you did you looked at the door that had the dress that Vanity Fair had chosen for you both, Charli had an elegant yellow gown and you had a red silk mini dress that you knew you would probably be thinking about the shortness of the whole night.

"We can switch" a voice popped up behind you and you faced Charli "No, you would look perfect with the yellow" You smiled and Charli moved up from the bed to you and snuggled into your side "You will look fabulous" she told you and kissed your shoulder "you always do"

"I'm just a little bit scared is all" you admitted and Charli nodded "like what if I fall-" "you want fall" "but I could" you told her before looking down "I have bruises on my shins from soccer it will be unattractive and the media would be-"

"hey" Charli turned your head delicately with her fingers to face her "We are there to accept an award because of our sport, it would be a little stupid if they think we walk out of the pitch with nicely tanned shaved legs with no damage to our bodies, plus we are only going because we have done damage to our bodies" she joked, hoping it would bring a smile upon your lips, which it did.

"I don't want you thinking about anyone in the media y/n" Charli told you as she stroked her fingers in your hair "think about you, or me, or even you and me, think of anything" she encouraged and pressed a small kiss to your lips.

"You always know how to make me feel better" you smile at her "anything for my girl" she smiled, and for the 1000th time that day you felt your heart melt.

"I love you"

"I love you too, now lets get ready"

It wasn't long until the hair and makeup people came and 'did you up' as Charli called it, her hair was curled and her eyes had a shimmer on them that somehow made her shine even more than her natural self.

You didn't think that was possible.

Your makeup was similar, only with a sharper eyeliner and you hair was in a low bun with strands curled at the front.

You walked out to your girlfriend talking to one of the media girls that you recognized from the world cup who was filming Charli answering a few questions in her dress which she stopped when you walked out.

"y/n freaking y/l/n" she stated before walking up to you and giving you a hug "you look gorgeous she told you before stepping back and looking at you upside down "and bloody sexy!" she added, making you blush.

You weren't gonna lie you did feel glamorous and you did catch yourself looking in the mirror a bit longer than intended.

"You're not too bad yourself" you told the blonde who couldn't stop smiling.

You both answered some questions, even including questions about your relationship that the viewers on tik tok would love.

"Cabs here you ready to go babe?" you called out as you got the text of the arrival of your uber driver, you turned around to your girlfriend taking pictures of you "Charli!" you called out and she laughed.

"You just look so good!"

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