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#Waiting for them to resolve whatever the fuck is between them
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Sherlock and Irene: *are going through emotional turmoil*
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Mycroft:
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#Honestly I'm kind of sad that we don't talk about him during this scene#When it's so goddamn funny 😂#Even the scenes before he was already absolutely devastated#Like when he got Moriarty's message#Man just wanted to solve his problems with cake#lol#And on the plane too#Mycroft at the start: Lmao Imma just gonna tell my little brother about this woman. Nothing bad can come out of this.#*6 months later*#Mycroft: FUCK NO... NO... NOOOOOO#And then he had to deal with these two in his own home#I'm sure he just wanted to chill down after a busy day#Thanks S & I#Now he be standing there like '🧍‍♂️' nearly the whole time#Waiting for them to resolve whatever the fuck is between them#Which is kind of interesting#Cuz unlike John he never got to see them interact with each other irl#Like he just wasn't there until now#Then this scene happened and he was probably confused a bit cuz 'Wait she be actually liking you?'#'Why?'#'I mean good for me but the fuck is happening??????'#Also just seeing his brother being like THAT#'Is he really in love or...????'#No wonder he didn't think that Sherlock wouldn't save her in Karachi#He wasn't there during their numerous eye fucking like John#Not like he needs it#I also like how he was the one who was present during this super important scene in both Sherlock's and Irene's lifes#Big Brother looking after his little brother and The Woman who is known for using other people's feelings against them#But you were so wrong about Sherlock's feelings Mycroft#Ofc he went to Karachi and he ATE... ugh there is no more space left for tags... shame
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fyrewalkwithmee · 1 month
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Temptations Pt.2
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Early Seasons Spencer x Roommate Reader// NSFW MDNI
I just wanted to thank everyone for all the love on part 1 of this story which was also my first ever Spencer post. It truly means a lot and your comments, reblogs and likes are so encouraging and make me want to write more 🥺❤️
Warnings: SMUT!MDNI!!, Sub!Spencer, Inexperienced!Spencer, Dom!reader, dry humping, palming. Whiny Spence makes me go BARK BARK. Mommy!kink, Light choking, Male and female orgasm.
3.4k WORDS (sorry i got a bit carried away)
Please like, comment, reblog if you enjoy! Im also keen to write more for Spencer so if you have any requests my asks are open :)
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It had been a couple of weeks since the incident with Spencer. You knew that you should have been riddled with guilt and shame after spying on him while he was vulnerable… and joining in, but you didn't. After all, he clearly wanted you and you definitely wanted him so what was there to feel bad about? 
That night had exposed Spencer to you in a whole new light and it was getting increasingly hard to be around him. You found your eyes lingering longer on him, your mind concocting sinful visions of his long fingers, pullable hair, creamy skin that was just begging to be marked. In the dead of night, your hands would travel down between your thighs, a puddle of arousal waiting for you as you replayed the sounds of his needy whines and tried your best to imagine the parts of him that have yet to be seen by you. You had spent the last two weeks trying to come up with a plan to get inside his head… and his pants. But you were struggling. Spencer was sensitive and inexperienced and you didn't want to scare him away or embarrass him by being too forward or revealing that you had discovered his dirty little secret.     
Luckily for you, there seemed to be some mystic force watching and putting into place the ideal situation for the both of you to finally get what you want. 
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“Alright spill, what is up with you tonight?” you asked with a hint of annoyance in your voice as you continued to clean up after dinner. Spencer had been off ever since he came home from the office, being especially quiet and sulky. You could tell something wasn't right when he got like this, you could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he sat through dinner eyebrows furrowed, his mind trying to put puzzle pieces together to resolve whatever was bothering him. Normally it was the case he was working on or some complex scientific concept he had been researching, but tonight felt different. There was an air of hesitancy and frustration that loomed over him like a storm cloud about to burst. 
Spencer quickly met your gaze, his brown eyes widening as if he was shocked you had noticed his behaviour, like he hadn't just sat through dinner barely speaking two words. 
“N-Nothings wrong. It's just uhh the case we're working on right now.” 
Spencer stuttered as he spoke, peering into his lap to fidget with his fingers. God those fingers, what you would do to feel them on your body or slipping in and out of your… Fuck no focus focus focus.
You finished drying the last plate and placed it back into the draw before you leaned both hands against the counter. Your position had you towering over Spencer who was seated on the other side,
 “You are so cute when you lie.” 
You spoke playfully but couldn't conceal the underlying flirtation in your tone that was dying to come out and play. What you were able to hide was the bitter pang that shot straight through your heart. Not because he was lying to you, but because whatever he was going through he didn't think that he could talk to you about it.  
Despite his enormous intelligence, Spencer was sensitive and he let things get to him. You knew how his team could be, picking on him because he was the youngest and less experienced in most areas of life. Despite your raging sexual attraction to the boy you also cared deeply for him and knew that if he didn't talk to you about it he would keep it bottled up. 
Spencer looked to you again, he swallowed at the way you loomed over him his Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat. His cheeks had taken on a slight rosiness at your comment and you relished in the effect you had on his body, knowing exactly where his mind was probably heading. 
He instinctively leaned in closer as he rushed to defend himself,
 “W-what! I'm n-not lying.”
You met his challenge by coming even nearer, now face to face with the boy wonder. You couldn't help but admire his beauty being this close, the way his glasses framed his big brown eyes, the sharpness of his reddening cheekbones and the way his pink lips were slightly parted almost welcoming you in.   
“You think I can't tell when you're lying Spence? We've lived together for almost a year.”
The nickname made Spencer’s breath catch in his throat, he shifted nervously in his seat suddenly very aware of your close proximity. He tore his eyes from yours fidgeting anxiously, trying to ignore the familiar feeling of arousal bubbling in his stomach.
Spencer prayed that you were oblivious to the fact that being around you often excited him in more ways than one. He also prayed that you would drop the subject as he was sure discussing it with you could only result in his own humiliation. Spencer stood from his position and walked over to the couch partly to hide away from your questions but also to hide the way his pants had begun to tighten in a not-so-subtle way.
“Fine, I lied! I just don't think you can help me out with this one. It's personal and kind of… embarrassing.” He let out a defeated sigh and buried his face in his hands. His attempts to detur you only heightened your curiosity and if his problem had to do with what you thought it did there was no way you were backing down now.
You sat down next to him on the couch and gently pulled away his hands so you could see his face.
“Spencer, you've literally seen me at my worst. How many times have you held my hair while I emptied my guts into the toilet after a night out? Or have to comfort me when I'm a mess after coming home from a bad date?” Or have me weak in the knees while I fuck myself to the sounds of you getting yourself off, “Nothing you say could be any more embarrassing than anything I've done.” 
You place a reassuring hand on his thigh, feeling him tense up under your touch, you meet his eyes and spoke smoothly, “Let me help you”.
If Spencer wasn't hard before he certainly was now, having you so close with your hands on his body made his brain go fuzzy and a burning heat had begun to engulf the air around him. As much as he didn't want to tell you what happened, he wanted your attention more, he wanted you to continue dotting over him and talking to him in that gentle affectionate tone. Maybe it was his nerves or the uncomfortable pressure of his cock straining against his briefs but before he knew it he was a blubbering mess trying to explain to you what had occurred earlier that day.
“I-its not really a big deal. It was just at work we got to talking about relationships and sex and everyone had stories to share but when it got to me I didn't know what to say and M-morgan made a joke about how I wouldn't even know how to get a date with a woman let alone please one and I know it was only a joke but I just-” 
You gripped the frantic boy’s arms tightly and stroked them soothingly trying to get him to slow down, “Woah woah slow down sweetheart. None of that is true, you shouldn't lis-” 
Spencer interrupted you, big puppy dog eyes staring into yours, “The thing is it is true. Not the getting a date aspect, I think I could manage that but when it comes to sex I… I’m not really the most experienced with that type of thing and I’m worried that when I am put in that position I won’t know what to do.”
Spencer's cheeks burned with embarrassment at his admission and he struggled now to meet your eyes. You felt terrible for him and the way his work colleagues teased him but you also couldn't help but think how fucking perfect this all was. This was your chance to finally get a taste of the man who had been destroying your body and mind for far too long.
You sat up straight making yourself tall and turned yourself to face him, “I see” You replied and pretended to be deep in thought before lowering one hand to draw faint patterns on his knee. Spencer's jaw clenched at the gesture, his eyes glued to the spot where your feathered touch roamed. 
“Maybe you just need some practice.” You spoke in a sultry tone as your fingers pushed deeper, nails scraping lightly at the skin beneath his pants. 
Spencer let out an almost non-existent groan at the pressure, he was absolutely dumbfounded by the situation and shift in your behaviour. There was no way this was happening, no way you were offering what he thought you were. It had to be some kind of sick joke. The boy's voice had risen at least two octaves as he breathlessly replied,
 “P-practice? I umm I’m not sure I understand.” 
You moved your hand from his knee and gripped his thigh firmly, moving it back and forth, sensually stroking. With your eyes on his lower half, you could clearly see the large tent that had formed under his pants. Your pussy clenched around nothing at the sight, your arousal intensifying rapidly and leaking into your panties. You were so in you thought to yourself a satisfied smirk forming on your lips. 
You leaned in and whispered into his ear, “I think you do genius.” your hand slowly crept higher and higher towards his cock, ghosting delicately over his hardness, “I think your body definitely does.” 
Spencer let out a delicious whimper, sheepishly bucking his hips up to meet your hand. You chuckled at his eagerness and continued your torture, adding some pressure so you were lightly palming him, “I’m more than happy to help you out Spence, if thats what you want. You need to tell me if you want me to stop.”
Spencer was a mess, replying to your command with a blissful whine. He continued his attempts to push up into your hand needing more friction to relieve the unbearable ache between his thighs. To his dismay, you removed your hand completely from his crotch, instead wrapping it gently around the slender column of his neck. 
The way he looked at you in that moment was enough to make you cum on the spot. His innocent big eyes were slightly watery from your teasing, his cheeks a new level of flushed and strands of his dishevelled hair hung loosely over his eyes. He looked at you with so much want, you knew he was putty in your hands. You shifted yourself so you sat in his lap, staring down at the heavenly sight below you, 
“I'm gonna need to hear your words, baby. Do you want me to stop or keep going?”
The pressure of your body on his made Spencer squirm beneath you and you could practically feel the way his thickness throbbed against your core. Spencer looked at you with despair in his eyes as he involuntarily bucked up into you and begged, 
“P-please don't stop!”
That was all you needed to hear to let the fun begin. You began to grind down with a slow but sturdy rhythm, earning an array of breathy groans from the boy under you. You leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth and whispered an encouraging “Good boy” into his ear. 
Spencer gasped at the nickname, his movements becoming faster and more frantic. Your warm body on his, the dominance of your tone, the realisation that you wanted him. It was all to much. He was grinding into you like a horny teenager, a mixture of moans and broken words falling from his open mouth, 
“Fuckk. Ahhh, please, please” his whines were like honey as they melted into the air around you and you couldn't help but let out your own at the way he writhed underneath you. You planted two hands on his chest giving you more leverage to rub back and forth over his clothed hardness as you slowed your pace, the new sensation sent you both into orbit, Spencer shutting his eyes tight with his mouth agape letting out shallow laboured breaths. His big hands went straight to your hips, fingers digging into the supple flesh there as he pushed you into him even harder. You threw your head back taking in the way his large bulge repeatedly bumped perfectly against your sensitive clit.   
“Feels so good baby, tell me what you want pretty boy.” you managed to ask through moans.
Spencer's eyes remained shut, completely wrapped up in the pleasure of the moment as he begged, “N-need to feel you. F-feel more of you. Need to kiss you please let me kiss you”
The pathetic tone of his voice as he asked for your permission to kiss was borderline ridiculous, but he had been so good and you'd be lying if you said you weren't dying to feel his wet mouth on yours. You halted your movements climbing off his lap, earning a disappointed whine from the boy. Spencer opened his eyes and peered at you, waiting for your next move. You couldn't believe what a mess he was for you, the FBI’s golden boy absolutely pussy drunk and waiting for your instructions. It was laughable. And the hottest thing you had ever seen. 
Spencer's anxious mind started reeling at the loss of contact and he began to fumble an apology thinking he had done something wrong, “I'm sorry, we d-dont have to. I just wanted to-”
You cut him off speaking in an authoritative voice, “clothes off and lie down.” 
Spencer looked at you hesitantly for about half a second then hurried to undo his belt and buttons, almost falling over himself in the process. While he worked you did the same, removing everything but your bra and panties which had become practically see-through from the wetness that had soaked through. By the time you were finished, Spencer was already lying nervously on the couch, his hands covering his exposed cock from your view. He spoke awkwardly,
“Umm, I don't have any uhh… protection.” 
You let out a condescending laugh as you stalked over to him, kneeling beside his head. You ran a hand through his soft hair,
“Don't worry sweetness, I’m not gonna fuck you tonight. We have plenty of time for that.”  
As much as you wanted to fuck his brains out, you were going to take things slow with Spencer and show him all the different ways two people could pleasure each other. He looked at you confused and began to ask what you meant but you cut him off by slamming your lips onto his, earning a surprised yelp from Spencer as your tongue slid into his mouth. 
Spencer's kiss was sloppy and filled with need as he gripped your head between his hands and explored your mouth with his tongue. He tasted like peppermint and cinnamon and you found yourself lost in his kisses, falling deeper and deeper into an intoxicated bliss. You could stay with him like this forever, but you knew that there was a more pressing matter that needed to be taken care of. You moved from his lips to his neck sucking and biting every tender spot you could find that made him groan beneath you. You trailed your way down his chest to his abdomen, which was surprisingly toned despite his thinness. You stopped when you reached the place he needed you most, taking in the sight before you. 
Spencer's cock was better than you could ever have imagined. He was bigger than you expected and extremely hard, his length pressing straight up against his abdomen. Your mouth watered at the way precum dripped from the top of his aggravated tip and slid down over the veiny thickness of his length. The view put you in a trance and you couldn't help but reach out and wrap your hand around him, stroking him softly and moving your thumb around his swollen tip. Spencer's hips lifted up off the couch as he moaned into your touch, you thought he might cum there and then so you halted your movements squeezing him at the base. Spencer whined desperately, his red tip had begun to turn purple from all the stimulation. Fuck he was so sensitive, so desperate to come that he began moving his hips, fucking himself into your hand as you watched on in awe. 
But you didn't want him to cum like this so you removed your hand which didn't stop him from continuing to fuck up into nothing, getting closer and closer to finishing while you straddled him. He stopped moving when he felt your weight on him, he looked wrecked as he looked at you, his eyes glazed over in a dreamy, eager haze. You kept his gaze as you lowered your clothed core down onto the flatness of his length, his slickness only adding to the already-soaked fabric of your panties. You were throbbing at the contact and the friction of his cock sliding through your folds with only the rough cotton of your panties keeping you apart.
“Were you about to cum baby?” You began to move back and forth on top of him, matching his quick movements.
“Yes.. I’m S-so close” he panted suddenly jutting his hips against your slickness.
“Well that's too bad, you only get to c-cum when I say so okay? You spoke through moans as Spencer’s pace increased, a familiar tingly warmth beginning to radiate through your core.
Spencer didn't answer back, too caught up in the feeling of your wetness between his cock which had become drenched in your juices. You leaned down and gripped his throat, a lot rougher than you had the first time, “I asked you a question.” you ordered and Spencer was quick to reply, hips still moving at a frantic pace,
“Yes! Yes Mom-” he whined but stopped himself stuttering to finish, “Only when you say”
He had no time to feel embarrassed at the name he almost called you as he felt his cock twitch signalling that he was close to release. Little did he know that you were already aware of what he wanted and you were more than happy to give it to him.
Spencer's pace began to falter and his nails dug deep into your hips his own bucked wildly underneath you. He sat up a little allowing gravity to pull you down even harder onto him, each time he moved his cock pounded right against your clit creating a rhythm that sent you spiralling closer and closer towards release. All the air was sucked out of the room replaced by a sinful heat as the both of you used each other to get yourselves off. 
Spencer whimpered incoherently, mouth hanging open, eyes screwed shut as he begged you to let him finish,
“Plea- fuck - please let me cum, please let me cumahh” 
Tears were forming in his eyes as you looked down at his desperate state, wrapping your arms around his neck you pushed your chest into his so you were as close as possible and whispered to him,
“You wanna cum?”
“Yes!” he cried “pleasee”
“Okay cum for me then. Cum for Mommy”
Spencer let out a choked cry as he jutted into you with an animalistic force, holding you tight against him as he cried out,
“Fuck Mommy, gonn- gonna cum. Thank you mommy, Thank you, Thankyo-” His own release interrupted him as he whined loudly into your shoulder hips rocking as thick ropes of cum spurted from his cock onto his abdomen. The sight of his pleasure sent you over the edge too, your orgasm crashing down on you as you rode it out overstimulating Spencer's already leaking cock. 
The two of you panted heavily trying to catch your breath, you leaned down and planted a sweet kiss on Spencer’s lips which he gladly accepted. He chuckled underneath you and looked at you with bewilderment,
“I can't believe we just did that.”
You giggled lightly back, running a hair through his messy hair and replied,
“I can't wait to do it again.”
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inkyajax · 2 months
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⋆₊˚⊹♡ sunday + grinding on his fingers while he works!
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character: sunday warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, fem reader, extreme teasing, dom/sub power dynamics, pet names (darling, angel, sweetheart), tiny bit of degradation (needy slut), toxic relationship (sunday is a lil mean/controlling/overbearing), taps into sunday’s god complex  words: 1.4k
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Thinking about Sunday’s fingers; long, slim, warmed by the gloves, his heat radiating off the thin material. Thinking about not even riding them, but humping them, using them while he deals with something far more important. He won’t put them inside of you, refuses to even take off his gloves as he wedges a hand between your thighs, claiming that this is more than enough to make you cum, sweetheart and he knows you can do it, he knows you can get off from just this. 
Because you’re such a needy little slut for him, aren’t you? Pathetic and acquiescent and willing to take whatever the fuck he’ll give you, even if it’s merely the very tips of his fingers, just scarcely brushing your throbbing clit. 
It’s up to you to do all the work—you’re the one who wanted it, after all; you’re the one who couldn’t sit proper and patient and wait for him to finish with his tasks and duties, too eager and desperate for the tiniest piece of him to stand it—and he declines to put in any effort at all, simply keeping his fingers still and stiff, a hairs width from your cunt. 
As such, it’s your responsibility to make yourself feel good.
He barely pays you a shred of attention throughout the entire tedious process, gaze prim and focused on the documents spread neatly across his desktop, his free hand leafing through papers and jotting down notes. 
But despite his cool, calm, seemingly unaffected demeanour, you know better. 
Because you can see it; his cock, hard and huge and straining against white trousers, just begging for relief. You can hear it; those gentle, almost imperceptible hitches in his breath—a subtle response to your own sweet little noises, whiny little mewls and airy little moans, sounds that melt in the heat of your mouth, sugared frustration on your tongue.  
Every brush of your clit against his fingers pushes another one from your pouty lips, features pinched and tight with concentration, muscles coiled and tense as they work and flex, desperate to achieve your goal. 
Yet despite what Sunday had claimed, it truly isn’t enough, each soft swipe of his fingers only working to fuel the fire roiling in your belly, spritzing kerosene on the flames but never fostering an explosion. 
“S’not enough, Sir,” you whimper after nearly an hour of this routine, a heavy ache beginning to settle deep within your flesh, 
“It’s not enough,” he corrects you, not sparing you a glance. “And I assure you it is, darling. Come, now, be a good girl for me, and show me that you can cum from just my fingertips.” 
“I can’t, I can’t,” you hiccup, lids squeezing shut as tears nip at your vision, aggravation budding at the corners of your eyes. “I need more!”
“Don’t get greedy, now,” he chastises, an implicit warning woven into the sentence. “You’ve already taken one of my hands away, and considerably slowed down my productivity, interrupting my workflow with your neediness. Isn’t that enough?” 
A flash of guilt sears through your stomach, bitter and sharp, and you lip juts out even further,  puckering your chin. 
He’s right—You know he’s right. He’s already making a sacrifice for you by just giving you this—time is money, time is power, time is control, and you’re eating up a substantial amount with your disgraceful desire. How much more selfish could you possibly be? 
“M’sorry, Master,” you slur out, eyes shut tightly enough to crinkle your lids as you attempt to scrape together the tatters of your concentration. “I’m sorry.” 
Sunday says nothing, but the corner of his mouth twitches, curls upward with something sick and sadistic, thick authority cracking in the atmosphere around him. 
With renewed resolve, your hips begin to swivel again, grinding your swollen clit against sheathed fingers. His fingertips flutter softly, just teasing, and your movements speed up, rocking into his feathery touch, the motion just shy of satisfying. 
Something similar to vexation chokes in your throat; a half-stifled groan smothered by your determination to be good, to obey. 
You will not complain again. 
The quick, light drumming of his fingers against your clit ceases a mere moment before your pleasure crests—it’s a curse, how proficiently he knows your body, how perfectly he can decode those precious little gasps, slipping unwittingly from your lips and tinged with exasperation, and those pathetic little ruts, pelvis stuttering as it chases his touch, stomach muscles coiled and clenched. 
He can read you so well, too well, almost as if he made you himself, took blood and bone between his palms and molded it into flesh, into his personal little angel—he is your creator, and you worship him flawlessly. 
It’s obscene, just how wet you are, copious amounts of arousal soaking through the cotton of his gloves to prune his fingers, turning the material slippery, puffy clit gliding over it with fluid ease.
It’s embarrassing, just how wet you are, thick dribbles of slick streaming down Sunday’s drenched digits to collect in little pools on the webs between his knuckles. It’s overflowing, leaking onto his palm slow and steady to seep into the fabric, now stained with evidence of your desire clinging to his hand. 
You’re saturated in sweat by the time you finally manage to orgasm, thin linen of your dress plastered to your form, contouring every dip and curve of your body, outlining every heave of your chest. A garland of tiny beads is strung along your hairline and collarbone, glistening dewdrops streaming down your cheeks and neck and leaving pretty shimmering trails of damp salt in their wake. 
Strands of matted hair stick to your temples, your thighs still tensing around Sunday’s now rigid hand, hips continuing to gyrate in sloppy little circles as you chase residual sparks of pleasure, quick jolts of overstimulation rippling your flesh. 
But despite the dull, dense ache in your muscles, heavy with exhaustion and filled with sand, and the prodigal sparks of pain-dyed ecstasy, pushing sharp hisses through the gaps of your clenched teeth with each bout through your blood, you just can’t seem to stop.
“Th-Thank you, Sunday, Sir, thank you, thank you,” you’re babbling out in hiccups, words hitching in time with the motions of your hips. 
So polite, his sweet little seraph, so devoted to making your gratitude known—it is, in essence, only right to thank your god after he grants you a tiny piece of heaven, a single taste of bliss, Sunday knows. And your reverence will not go unrewarded. 
Because your reverence far exceeds great respect and high regard; your reverence bleeds into veneration, obsession, addiction. Your love knows no bounds. 
Your love is voracious in its worship, devouring any morsel of attention or affection he grants you and being grateful for it—even something as small and insignificant as a fingertip. 
It’s fucking exhilarating to experience such power, and it sends a heady shot of rhapsody straight to his brain, dazing him and infusing his blood. He can feel it oozing out of every pore, clinging to his form like a protective shield, reinvigorating his hegemony and reaffirming his authority.
Yearning against his pants, his cock twitches, the stitches threaded across the groin stretched taut with how hard he is. 
His hand is doused in you—your cum and your sweat and your arousal—and he pulls it free from your flexing thighs to examine it, holding it up in front of his face and turning it; first this way, then that, leisurely admiring the way every inch of his glove gleams in the diffused sun spilling past the stained glass. Sheathed in you, it almost looks like a shimmery satin.
“Such a mess,” he grits out, the words wispy and ragged. “Such a pretty mess you made for me.” 
A pair of gloved fingers tap together in a scissor-like motion, slow and controlled, pupils blown wide with awe as he watches the slick material stick to itself, glimmering in the setting sunlight and separating with minimal effort, strings of your cum strung between the appendages, webby, quivering slightly. 
You’ve since slumped against him, face nearly buried in his bicep as he appreciates the gift you’ve given him. Your breath is hot and humid against his neck, panted out through parted lips in uneven little huffs and stammered by soft whines.
“Rest, angel,” he murmurs, cheek laid against your head after he’s peeled the soiled glove from his skin and stashed it away in a desk drawer for safe keeping. “You did well.”
He knew you would. A god is never wrong, after all.
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eomayas · 5 months
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the boy is mine • lee chan
pairing: lee chan x f!reader, (new) established relationship
genre: smut, 18+ MINORS DNI!!!!
warnings: smut, pwp (kinda!), unprotected p in v (do not be like them), oral (m & f), fingering, dirty talk, use of the term ‘slut’ a lot but it’s ~endearing~, chan is super sweet and very in like with reader
a/n: unedited! chan has been clouding my brain bad!!!
the tension between you and chan was palpable—at least it felt that way. you wonder if anybody else could sense what was passing between the two of you, or if it was a secret that only the two of you were in on. whatever; either way you didn’t care. all you wanted was chan.
you cling to him, your hand wrapped around his bicep and head on his shoulder while he talks to seungcheol and minghao. seungcheol smiles at you two like a parent witnessing his sons first relationship, and each time you and chan do something cute, you catch minghao and cheol share a look.
it’s sort of how they all look at you and chan. most of it is because they think he’s a loser (endearing) and can’t really believe that he got someone like you to agree to date him. they think you’re cute and sweet, a bit innocent compared to their youngest member. they feel like they have to clean their act up when you come around, not wanting to taint your ears with unpleasant, male conversations.
if only they knew how you let chan fuck you stupid multiple times a week, to the point where you find is difficult to stand, or even look at him because you’re mildly embarrassed by how you acted like a little slut for him. oh well. they can believe what they want.
“yo, we’re about to start the movie!” soonyoung calls from the living room. seungcheol an minghao shuffle out of the kitchen and you begin to follow them until you’re tugged back by your boyfriend.
chan pulls you towards him by the waist, a small smirk on his face when you plant your hands against his chest. you look into his eyes and smile, heart beat getting faster by the second, and then place your lips on his. like most of your kisses, it gets heated quickly, tongues clashing and chans hands sliding down to grip your ass.
your body feels like it’s on fire, his touch searing and making you feel hot. if people weren’t waiting on you, you’d stay in this position all night.
pulling back, you gently bite down on his bottom lip, pointedly locking eyes with him. chan can’t help the blood that rushes to his crotch and the firm squeeze he gives your ass. “yo! come on!” soonyoungs voice interrupts the two of you and chan rolls his eyes extremely hard, making you giggle before you grab onto his hand and pull him out of the kitchen and to the living room where all 12 of his friends lay spread out.
there’s a space on the couch left open for the two of you and you both crowd onto it, chan sitting on the outside of you so you’re pressed against the arm. seungkwan clicks play on the movie and you curl up in chans side.
for the first few minutes of the movie, you and chan keep your hands to yourself, though the feeling of his weight on you is making focusing on the movie less of a priority. when seokmin gets up and comes back with a stack of blankets and tosses one to everybody in the room. the moment chan opens it and drapes it over the two of you, all resolve you once had shatters, now determined to sneak out of here and get him alone.
first, you innocently place a hand on his leg. he looked down at you and you give him a soft smile that ears you a kiss on your cheek. a few moments later, you move your hand up a bit higher, lightly brushing over his semi-hard dick. chan looks down at you once more, but this time you ignore him and play coy.
chan presses a long kiss against your temple, draping an arm around your waist and holding onto your hip. “channie, i’m tired,” you whisper, looking up at him through your lashes. he locks eyes with you and you smile an all too familiar smile that makes him twitch in his sweats. “i wanna go to bed.” you fully palm him through his pants and he sniffs to mask the breath of air he sucks in.
seconds later, chan is standing up and announcing that the two of you are going to sleep, and all but drags you upstairs before you can say goodnight to everyone. jeonghan throws you a knowing look and your cheeks flush. there wasn’t a care in your body about who really believed what you and chan were going to bed, as long as you ended up in chans bed within the next few seconds.
once you get upstairs into chans bedroom, you’re all over him, hands sliding up under his shirt while you kiss on his neck. “needy,” chan breathes out a laugh and runs a hand through his hair, letting out a small whimper when you suck a hickey onto his neck. you push his shirt up to signal him to take it off, and he pulls back to oblige.
his bare form is one you haven’t truly gotten used to; each time you see him like this you feel thirsty. it doesn’t help that he’s constantly working out, too. “you’re hot,” your murmur, dragging your acrylics over his toned abdomen. chan chuckles and grabs ahold of your face, pulling you into a heated kiss.
sliding his hands down your body, he gropes you in all the places that make you pant against his mouth. his lips never leave your mouth while his hands frantically try to tear you out of your shirt. “channie,” you breathe, lightly shoving him off of you to take off your top and subsequently your bra.
he’s back on you once you’re bare on top, pushing you down onto the bed and kissing every bare inch of skin. “channie, i need you,” you sigh, back arching when he suckles on one of your nipples and plays with your other breast. you tangle a hand in your hair, nails digging nicely into his scalp.
a trail of saliva follows chan when he pulls back from your breast. “yeah? you need me?” he asks patronizingly, fingers hooking into the waistband of your leggings and tugging them. you press yourself flat into the bed and spread your legs for him once your legs of material. “such a little slut for me.” he says, truly endeared by you.
“always,” you say, buzzing in anticipation. chan licks his lips as he looks down at your panty clad mound. dragging a finger down the slit of your covered core, he smiles when the material sticks to you. “channie.” you whine, opening your thighs wider from him, urging him to touch you.
“slut,” he groans, pushing your panties to the side and dragging his finger through your slick folds before dipping it into your hole. he slowly pushes it in and out of you, adding a second finger. “so wet. and all for me? it’s all for me, right baby?” he coos, speeding up his ministrations, biting his lip when you clench around his fingers.
“yes, channie,” you pant, chest rising and falling quickly. “oh.” he curls his fingers inside of you, your thighs closing around his his hand. chan forces your legs open and slips in a third finger, trying to thoroughly stretch you out.
clenching around his fingers, the sounds coming from you mouth increase from quiet whimpers to louder moans. it urges chan on, his goal tonight to get you to come once on his fingers, a second time on his mouth, and third time on his dick. he can tell he’s about a 1/3 of the way there with the way you suck his fingers inside and cry out his name.
his dick throbs in his pants, but he’s more concerned with making you feel good first, ever the pleaser. “you gonna come for me, baby? are you gonna be a good girl and come for me?” his voice is soft though firm. there’s authority in his tone and ever his good girl, you whine out a ‘yes’. “you can do it baby. you’re my good girl, right? my good, little slut?” his thumb makes its way to your clit, rubbing slow circles against it.
your toes curl and your back arches off the bed at his words. your core pulses and chan rubs harsher circles against your nub, the stimulation causing your jaw to fall open. “ch-chan!” you cry, harsh pants leaving your mouth.
“that’s it, pretty,” he murmurs, a satisfied smile taking over his face as you unravel, your arousal gushing out onto his hand. “good job, baby. such a good girl for me.” chan pulls his hand out from in between your legs and sticks his fingers in his mouth, humming as he sucks your juices off.
you watch in mild astonishment, heat flooding your cheeks when he smiles at you. you pull your underwear off and toss them onto the floor below, your core fully on display for him. chan grabs your calves and drags you to the end of the bed and gets on his knees in front of you.
a whimper leaves your mouth when chan buries his head in between your legs, tongue flicking over your clit and licking up the rest of your arousal. he dips his tongue into your hole, dragging the muscle through your folds. “f-fuck!” you shriek, eyes squeezing closed.
chan keeps your legs open with just his shoulders, hooking his arms around your thighs to hold you down when you try to wriggle away from him. his tongue expertly licks your core, the sounds lewd and loud in your ears. “ch-channie, i c-can’t take i-it,” you cry out, thighs beginning to shake.
your next orgasm washes over you without much warning, loud cries of his name leaving your mouth. chan continues to eat you through your orgasm, vision going spotty from the overstimulation. “ch-chan, stop,” you pant, legs going limp against his shoulders.
arousal coats his face, his mouth and chin glistening in the light. you pant below him and he strokes your leg to bring you back to him. “baby? im right here,” chan says, voice soft. you keep your eyes closed but hold out a hand to him, which he grabs and kisses the back of. “you’re doing so good for me, baby.”
the praise makes you smile and crack an eye open. the smile of your sweet, sweet boyfriend greets you and you can’t help but return it. “hi,” you say, voice scratchy.
“hey, beautiful.”
you tug him down to you and he braces himself with one arm, hand planted on the bed near your head. his strength turns you on, to say the least, and you pull him down to your lips by the back of his neck. you don’t care that he just are you out and you can taste it, all you want is him. you make out lazily and he lowers his hips to yours, his dick heavy against your inner thigh.
pulling back, you glance down to look at the tent in his sweats. “take those off,” you say, pushing at the waistband. chan stands and makes a show of taking off his sweats but leaving his boxers on. you scramble onto your knees and crawl over to him, hands flying to tear him out of the barrier.
“you really are a little slut,” he says, eyes darkening when you push his boxers down and grab ahold of his dick. “get down on your knees for me.” it’s a demand you have no problem complying with, quickly getting off the bed and onto the floor before him. he peers down at you and lovingly strokes your face before gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail. “suck.”
you take his dick into your hands, thumb rubbing over the tip and spreading the cum that leaks out, over the head. chan lets our air through his nose, heart pounding when you place a kiss to the tip. your eyes flick up to look at him and he twitches in your hand, his will power threatening to crumble.
the smile you give him is angelic. the way you take him into your mouth is nasty. the way you take him until you gag and tears prick in your eyes goes straight to his ego. “shit,” he pants, grip tightening on your hair.
he’s not even fully in your mouth, a little over half way, and you stroke what doesn’t fit. tears fill your waterline as you move him in and out of your mouth, cheeks hollowed as you breathe heavily out of your nose. chan groans above you, moaning out your name and calling you his good girl, his little slut.
he’s close and it’s evident in the way his knees buckle and how he catches himself against the mattress. you pull your mouth off of him with a pant, saliva dripping down your chin, mixing with a few tears that slip down your cheeks. you pant as your pump his shaft, playing with his balls to bring him to his release. “fuck, fuck, fuck!” he whimpers, hips jerking and eyes squeezing shut.
opening your mouth, you stick out your tongue and jerk his dick until he comes, cum shooting out onto your tongue. he aims to get most of it into your mouth, some getting on your chin and chest. chan squints down at you, whimpering when you close your mouth and swallow his seed. it’s not your first time and definitely won’t be your last, but he’ll never get tired of seeing you do it.
you wipe whatever up of his cum was left with your finger, and lick it off, not wanting to waste a drop. “need to feel you,” chan grumbles, dominant side melting as he pulls you off the floor and pushes you down onto the bed. he hovers over you and kisses you deep, holding his dick in his hand and lining it up with your entrance. “you’re so good to me.” his babbling isn’t new—he always gets like this at some point whenever the two of you have sex. you find it cute, especially when he tries to be rough with you.
a high pitched moan leave your mouth as he presses his head into you. “i’ve got you,” he murmurs, kissing your neck as he continues to slowly feed you inches. he kisses you to drown out your soft cries, and massages one of your breasts. you hold onto his shoulders, sharp nails digging into his skin.
once he’s fully inside, he gives you a second to adjust. your breathing is labored and you clench around him tightly. “fuck, channie!” you squeak, blowing out a breath. he rubs your hip and peppers light kisses along your jaw and face. “you’re so big.” you whine it like it’s a problem, but it’s a top 10 thing about him—it might be number 9.
chans previous demeanor finds him nearly as quickly as it left. “but you can take it,” he says, pushing himself up onto his hands. “you’re going to take it.” he starts out with shallow, slow strokes to ease you into it. “fuck, you’re so tight!” he grunts, hips starting to rock into you at a quicker pace.
“oh, chan!” you cry, fingers tangling into the sheets. his hips snap against yours brutally, the air leaving your lungs each time he pushes into you. “fuck, baby! harder!” you moan out, head spinning.
“harder?” he pants, hair falling into his eyes. you cry out when he pulls all the way out and slams into you, hands holding onto your hips tightly enough to bruise. “fucking slut!”
that familiar, tight feeling in your stomach builds. chan can tell by the vice grip you have on him and the way your face is screwed up in pleasure. he pants heavily, eyes trained on your chest as your breasts bounce each time he fucks into you. “i-im close!”
chan grabs one of your thighs and hooks it onto your hip, his thrusts slowing down only to become more pointed and deliberate, an ‘oh’ eliciting form you with each pound. “gonna come for me a third time, pretty?” his voice wavers as he talks to you, the grip on your thigh tight. “shit, y/n! fuck.” sweat slides down his temple and drips down to his chin and drops off to the bed.
“i-i’m coming!” you cry as you spasm around him, your third orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks. your moans are loud, crude, and downright pornographic. anybody on the second floor is guaranteed to hear you by now.
your sounds blow up chans ego even more than you already have tonight, and soon he’s pulling out of you to release onto your stomach, praises falling from his lips. “fuck, baby. you’re so good to me. my pretty little baby,” he babbles, collapsing on top of you. you wrap your arms around him and squeeze onto him, lightly stroking the hair at the nape of his neck. “thank you.” he sighs, kissing your jaw.
“channie, i can’t breathe,” you say, pushing at his shoulder. he quickly rolls off you and lies flat on his back, his hand making his way to rest on your thigh. “channie.” you say softly, rolling onto your stomach and resting your chin on his shoulder.
he gazes down at you and chuckles, rolling his eyes with a smile on his face. he knows that tone, knows that look and can see that you’re not done with the night. he sits up and grabs a pillow from the top of his bed and lifts you up by the hips, shoving a pillow beneath you.
“my good, little slut.”
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gaysindistress · 6 months
Text
What if Simon didn’t listen when Price told him to apologize to his girl before she does go off and find herself a better man? - part two
a/n: I know John isn’t American but I kept picturing him as Joe from SIX and honety Gibs from NCIS and I couldn’t stop myself. I sincerely apologize that this John is American-grumpy-hot-military-older man coded (not really). Also I know it took a month and I’m so sorry 🙈 I got so busy at work but it’s here! Enjoy!!
Warnings: smutty smut smut, phone sex
non-mcu masterlist
part one
Taglist: @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries @calicocat45 @whos-fran @vonev @yyiikes
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The situation at hand is tricky to say the least. Waiting around and trying to be careful of everyone’s feelings will push you away. On the other hand, he’s wanted to show you the love that you deserve and now is his chance.
Fuck Simon.
Fuck him for treating you like a safety net and like you’re replaceable. Fuck him for letting you shoulder the burden of your relationship and expecting you to always be at his beck and call. Fuck him for lying to you instead of having the balls to just be honest about why he wanted to break up. Fuck Simon Riley for saying that you could find a better man and expecting you to not listen to him for once.
“I want a lot of things,” he starts and takes a moment to choose his words, “I might be a gentleman but I’m a selfish man. I won’t take what’s not offered but you’d be hell bent to find me sharing my life with others. If you say that it’s over and mean it, well then love, I’ll be the most selfish man you’ve ever met when it comes to you. Im not some young lad anymore; I’m settled in my life and now that things are stable I want someone to share it with. I’ll follow your lead when it comes to how we share it but just know that I don’t want something casual or even friendship.”
You’re still resting your chin on his shoulder, listening to his every word as hope begins to fill your eyes. It’s the last sentence he whispers as he gazes down at you that causes your breath to hitch;
“I’ll love you until my lungs give out.”
And this man Delivers. The capital d is not a typo. John Price understands that you’re an independent person and he respects that. That’s not to say that he doesn’t spoil the absolute shit out of you and ensures that you are happy in every facet of your life imaginable.
The dogs are being wild today and overwhelming you? As soon as he gets home, he’s taking them out on a walk and giving you instructions to go have yourself a nice hot bath. Dinner is already taken care of so no need to worry about that. Just sit back, relax, and enjoy the quiet.
He’s been on deployment for a couple weeks and the loneliness is starting to creep in? You will be getting at least two check in texts a day and a call or FaceTime if he can before you go to bed. You should also expect some sort of care package to be on your doorstep weekly. This could be anything from flowers to your whole ass Amazon cart, all you need to do is say you miss him and he’s got you covered.
Things have been a little tense between the two of you? Well get ready because you’re going to be doing a check in that night where the two of you talk about whatever is going on. If it’s something small like you’re both stressed from work and a weekend getaway is needed, he’s already got that planned. If it’s something that needs more work, he’s ready to dive right into it and figure it out.
Still true to his internal word, nothing physical happens between you two at first. He wanted desperately to kiss you when he told you he would love you until his last breath but he didn’t. Disgusted by the enormity of his craving for you, John vowed to wait until you asked for his physical affection. Of course this meant he wouldn’t give into any of your advances until you told what you wanted.
After that night, you began the long and arduous process of breaking down John’s resolve. While it may have been unspoken, you knew what he wanted but you weren’t going to give into him so quickly. It started with closing the distance between you two. Instead of sitting on opposite ends of the couch, you’d lay your feet in his lap or move just close enough to trail your fingers over the back of his hand. Only would you move to sit beside him if he slung his thick arm over the couch’s back and beckoned you closer. Then you would take every opportunity possible to cuddle into his side and slyly skirt your hands across the waistband of his sweats when you wrapped your arms around him. If you were in the kitchen together, you were always just out of his grasp. His fingers could grasp at the back of your shirt but never fully grab you. You’d swiftly slip around him if he moved behind you but not before brushing your hands over him in some way.
Eventually you grew bolder and began to shower with the door propped open. You’d said it was so the dogs could still see you but John isn’t stupid. He knew that you wanted him to catch a glimpse of your body through the foggy glass doors. But here’s the thing; he’s not Simon. Simon would’ve joined you and fucked you on that glass door like your life depended on it but not a captain price.
No no no. John Price is going to make you say those three little words, ‘I want you’, before he touches you even if it means leaving on for a mission without so much as a chaste peck on the lips. No amount of sly looks and sneaky touches is going to convince this man to give into you.
He starts beating you at your own game though. his bedroom door is suddenly always cracked open making it so that you can hear every rumbling moan and gasp of your name when he fists his cock at night. You no longer feel the waistband of his underwear when you wrap your arms around his am waist during your cuddles. Instead your fingers find the thick trail of hair that disappears under his sweatpants. Speaking of which, John knows about grey sweat pants and he exploits that turn on every chance he gets. Soon it goes from just wearing them low on his hips to forgoing boxers (as mentioned above) and sometimes he even ‘forgets’ his shirt. The memory of his thick bare chest on display alone is enough to make you clench your legs together.
When he finally does have to leave for work, he presses a light kiss to your temple and tells you to be careful. It goes without saying but John makes your promise anyways. Eases his old heart as he likes to say. If only he would go easy on yours…
Nearly every photo, FaceTime, what have you, this man is bare chested with lidded eyes and a knowing smirk on his face. He knows that you’re frustrated with the way things have played out; namely his departure with no memorable moments. He’s already become an expert in you, knowing what your body langue means, what your blushes mean, and most importantly, what your words truly mean.
Probably about a month in to this mission is when it comes to a climax. Your hands were doing nothing to ease the ache between your legs and your toys were making it worse. It was as if your body knew that it was you instead John rubbing small circles into your clit late at night. You’d tried nearly everything you could think of aside from finding someone in a pub and telling the older captain about your dilemma. While you two weren’t anything more than roommates with feelings at this point, it still felt wrong to find someone else to help you out. With only one person that your body wanted and nothing you could do about it, you settled for being sexually frustrated and irritable.
John is finally able to get some alone time to call you and actually talk to you. Settled into some poor excuse for a cot, he makes himself comfortable as he waits for you to pick up. It makes maybe a few rings before your tight voice comes through with a short ‘hello?’
He wants to chuckle and fails to suppress it, “Well hello to you too, love.”
Immediately you sigh when you recognize his voice, “oh John it’s you. How are you?”
“Been better. What’s been going on with you?”
You let out another deep sigh, pausing to answer as you contemplate what to tell him.
“What is it, love? Something bothering you?”
“I…I’m just….im just irritable,” you attempt to pass off as the full truth but John knows you better than that.
“Irritable you say?”
You can hear him shuffle around on his end and it causes your legs to cross to even think about him. God it’s beyond annoying to be this turned on over just hearing him move around, let alone hear his voice right now.
“I’d say a relaxing day is in order,” he teases with a low pitched sultry tone, “find some relief in a massage maybe.”
Relief.
The word feels hot as it washes over your brain and invokes images that would make a nun curse under her breath.
You snort at his suggestion. In that small noise, he finds all the answers he needed; you’re about to break and murmur those three sweet words.
“No appeal to that, love?” He asks and you can just hear the smirk he’s wearing. “A massage isn’t the relief you’re looking for though is it? You need a different type of relief, isn’t that right love?”
That bastard.
You hear him shuffle again and you swear to god you hear the sound of a belt coming undone.
“Talk to me. Tell me how I can help.”
If you weren’t needy before, you must certainly are now. You feel pathetic, a bitch in heat with the way your body starts to react to his simple words. Practically mumbling you attempt to tell him to fuck off but it doesn’t sting as much as you’d hoped. John laughs off your feeble attempt at hiding the true reason you’re in a mood.
Instead of adding flame to fire, he stays quiet.
It takes 40 agonizing seconds of silence for you to groan his name out of frustration. The captain only hums his acknowledgment that you spoke.
Phone sex isn’t new to you by any means however there’s something about this time that causes you to falter. There’s something about the way he initiated it but is allowing you to lead where it goes. There’s something about the way he knew what you needed within seconds. There’s something about the way your body seems to know that it craves his without ever touching.
“Yes,” you mumble while your cheeks burn and your body sings at the thought of getting what it truly desires.
John chuckles under his breath and the sardonic sounds causes your eyes to squeeze shut.
“Be a good girl for me and slip your hand into your panties.”
Your hearing dulls to a muffled tone as your hand follows his instructions. Barely does your ears register the sound of skin on skin, a slick hand taunting an impossibly hard cock. Your name comes out as a groan when you tell him to continue.
“Fuuckkk, love. Tell me are ya wet?”
“S…soaked.” You sigh as you roll your clit with your fingertips.
He lets out a string of curses as his hips buck up into his hand and his cock throbs from his slow pace.
“I want you to keep rubbing your clit and fuck yourself with your fingers,” the captain orders you, “and dont try to hide any of those pretty sounds.”
You mumble a weak ‘okay’ as you work your clit in small circles, feeling yourself become even more wet.
Strings of curses fall from his lips as he listens to your desperate cries of pleasure. The sounds of his thrusts get louder and louder in time when you bury two fingers in and become to fuck yourself like he told you to. It feels better than all of your other attempts but it’s not enough.
Nothing will be enough until you can feel John’s cock deep inside of you. Until you can feel his hips rut against yours and his hoarse moans in your ear. Until you feel the burn that his facial hair will give you when he eats you out like a starved and neglected dog. Until you feel his warm speed leak from you after he’s worked you through several of your own orgasms.
The thoughts of what is to come push you over the edge and you moan out his name in an absolutely pornographic manner. It stirs something disgustingly powerful and sinful deep in his gut when he hears it. He can only imagine the beautiful display of pleasure and bliss that you’ve come as you lay panting post orgasm.
You can only imagine how stunning he looks with his sweats pulled down to his mid thigh, his bare chest rapidly rising and falling while his stomach is painted with his own cum.
“John?” You whisper after your breathing has returned to normal(ish). “When are you coming home?”
His lips turn up in a smirk at your word choice, “missing me more than you let on, now are ya love?”
“Yeah it’s lonely without you here. you can’t leave on another deployment like this without fucking me before.”
“I promise it won’t happen again, my love.”
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leah-lover · 5 months
Text
Reward. Mary earps x reader.
Smut 18+
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Mary being an ass girl.
After training your day was very chill. You would usually divide the house shutters between you and those girlfriend Mary in order to get them done quicker.
This day though has been even more quiet than usual. You finished your pigeon of the work way before Mary did, so you decided to lay on the couch and wait for Mary tho be done. Little food you know that that decision will change your entire day.
Mary was upstairs doing laundry, when her phone beeped and the lock screen opened. You usually don't pay attention to Mary's phone believing that in a relationship people deserve privacy.However, what you saw shocked you.
You knew that the goalkeeper had a thing for your ass. She would touch, slap, tease, and squeeze it whenever she could. She didn't mind that you were in public or with your friends and family. Putting her hands on your ass felt like an impulse she couldn't control. You often used this weakness over hers to your advantage. You would coarse her to change her mind or do something that you wanted just by offering her full control of your ass. In sex she lived fucking you from behind offer just ticking your ass whenever you wanted to be closer to her and when you make her nad she punishes you by spawning you until your ass was red.
So your girlfriend's lock screen wasn't as much of a shock than a surprise that caught you off guard. Mary had put a picture she took off your backside on the beach when you were on vacation in her lock screen. Your ass was zoomed in and out took the entire screen.
This gesture surprisingly made you happy so you decided to reward your girlfriend for it.
So you left the couch and went straight to the bedroom closet. You put on a pair of sexy red lingerie, just like your girlfriend liked. These lingerie were a bit special because your ass was completely bare. You then did your hair and makeup pretty quickly and situated yourself on the bed.
It didn't take long after you finished for Mary to be done too. She expected you to be on the couch as usual and when she didn't find you she started talking for you.
“Baby where are you?”she asked
“Upstairs in the bedroom, love .”you responded.
Upon getting in the room her jaw was on the floor.
“What did I do to deserve this?.”she asked.
“Well baby I was your lock screen and I thought I would reward you for it. Tonight you can do whatever you want with me.” you said seductively.
Mary didn't waste any time. She quickly took off her shirt and got on top of you. She kissed you roughly, like your lips were gonna disappear.
“ You are so fucking beautiful.” She whispers in between kisses. She then moved on to your neck marking it so that everyone knew it was hers. She sucked your purse point harshly while moaning your name. You were already crazy for this girl but her actions make you go crazier. After she was done with your neck leaving enough bruises on it she took your bra off.
“You are so fucking sexy baby “she whispers again her voice full of lust.
“fuck Mary.”you moan as soon as she had your nipples in between her teeth. She gave each breast a large amount of bruising which only resolved in you being a moaning mess and the juices between your legs to drip down to the sheets.
“Baby please, I need to feel you inside me.” You moan out loud.
“ I want to you too come while I am fucking your beautiful juicy ass.”she ordered.
She then got up and went to your toy drawer and picked out the biggest strap you had. You only took that strap once and you remembered it being a rough challenge.
“Mary, I don't think I can take this.” You say hesitantly
“ Of course you can, baby.” she doubled down, fixing the strap to her core.
She then flipped you s on that your ass was in the air. She then situated herself behind you and slid the tip in. You whined and squirmed at the size of it but mary didn't flinch. She slowly pushed the whole strap in.
“That my good girl who takes what I give her “she praised you. She quickly loosened you up, thrusting faster and stronger.
“ I don't think I can take it “ you moan.
“yes you can baby you can take it “she cooed her hand on your back soothing you.
You knew Mary had pace but today she reconfirmed it to you. She thrusted harder and stronger in you by the second. She would occasionally squeeze your ass giving it a few slaps.
“I want you to touch yourself slowly “she ordered. You obliged to the order and you started touching your puffy needy clit while moaning Mary's name.
“ Move faster baby I am gonna come and I want us to do it together “ she said.
It only took a few minutes before you both came at the same time.
“ do you want me come in your ass baby “ she said a few moment before her release.
“ Yes baby, please come in my ass please.” You pleaded before yours.
After you both came down she gave you as a few kisses before she asked
“Who does this ass belong to ?”
“To you. my ass belongs to you “ you confirm while panting from your orgasm.
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eccentricallygothic · 5 months
Note
please i need a pedri fanfic where his gf gets horny in public and starts teasing him until he takes her somewhere private and fucks her
I love your stories theyre amazinggg
I am (was) on my period hence huge feelies so I added those to this because I am very tender on Pedri as it is. I also see him as a very dominant and caregiving person as well as lover so I hope you don't mind what I've made of your request and enjoy it <3
| Unusual |
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Pairing: Bf!Pedri | Gf!You. 
Warning(s): Smut with plot, unprotected p-in-v, d/s undertones (it's literally Pedri), m!dom, f!sub, Daddy kink, suggestive exhibitionism, doggy style, spanking, hair pulling, dirty talk, creampie, marking, Pedri calling you vida because I am very fond of that idea, caring Pedri, he's also intimidating bc he's Pedri.
.
Pedri sighs as he arrests your impish wrist in his hand for the umpteenth time today and peels it off his thigh before carrying it back to your knee. 
"Vida…" Usually, a stern look is enough for you to mend your ways and start behaving yourself, but today seems to be the day where you decide to grow immunity towards his warnings.
And it usually never comes down to this tone of his because it hardly ever means anything ideal for you. 
But you just can't keep your hands to yourself today. 
You whine under your breath when he resumes his conversation with Gavi; one of his best mates, again. When you are still not paid the attention that you so desperately crave, you sigh and glance around the table at everyone present. 
It is a boring Saturday lunch that the two of you are having with some of your boyfriend's club mates and their girls. You are not to be taken the wrong way. These kinds of things are usually quite fun for you. 
The keyword is usually. 
Because the exception is days when your mind cannot think of anything other than your man's cock while your insides burn. 
The past week was a busy one for Pedri and you are a good girlfriend so you patiently waited, thinking he was gonna give you what you needed most on the night of the big game when he wouldn't have anything left to worry about for a while after. But he was so exhausted when he got home last night that you postponed the fulfillment of your need for the next morning. 
Except, you woke up to your love making breakfast and then informing you over it that the boys had invited you two for lunch. If that wasn't messy enough, he had had some errands to run before said lunch which further crushed any hopes of something quick as well. 
And now, here you are. 
Frustrated, on edge, excited beyond measure, moody, iffy and extremely noncompliant. 
Then, on top of it all, the food is taking forever and the conversations are way too mundane for you; a horny girl who was busy needily ogling at her boyfriend. 
It isn't your fault, really. He looks too fucking great to resist. You know a shave is probably coming and you love him either way but Pedri looks just so hot with the light stubble a few days of negligence has caused on his handsome face. Then his thick dark hair rests on his forehead in the most perfect way as his naturally stern eyes move along with his strong, manly hands each time he makes a gesture. And the way his lips move when he speaks… Your thighs clench at the memories of all the times they have been between them.  
You break against your forced resolve once more when he hums along to whatever Ferran is saying and leans in your direction to pour you a glass of water to drink because you can not track your hydration to save your own life. The sheer dominance in the way he does not break his conservation even once but places the Tumblr in front of you causes a wave of burning hot love to wash over you and then you just can't take it anymore. 
Where you had played with his fingers, snuggled into his arm, groped his thigh and then stroked his leg with your foot before, you think fuck all and 'drop' your napkin which just happens to fall between his feet. 
"Woopsie" of course, Pedri knows you are up to no good when you bend down to 'fetch' it and place your hand on his knee for support. You take your time with 'finding' said napkin and your hand shamelessly trails to his dick in the meantime, hurriedly taking a fat, mighty squeeze before your claw can be pried off its prey. 
Your boyfriend has realized by now to not expect anything innocent from you today because although you are the shy one between the two of you usually, your antics since the moment you took your seats have been of the naughty sort. 
Today is a very unusual day indeed. 
Pedri stills and stops mid sentence, his whole body stiffening as he realizes what is happening. Your party grows concerned over his sudden silence and his ears redden at the awareness of you not coming back up, instead choosing to remain 'searching' for your napkin while clinging your fingers to his now hard cock like your life depends on it. 
"Oh" but of course, the young man is much stronger than you and so your hand is easily manhandled into his. "I see" he pretends as though you have said something to him before standing up and facing your lunch companions. "She needs my help navigating the place for a restroom, we will be right back" the way he cares for you like one would a child is nothing weird for your close friends and family anymore. Pedri helps you out with the smallest of things and the most basic of tasks and that is just the dynamic the two of you share. 
However, there is nothing tender in the way he drags you behind him with a firm hold on your wrist. You whimper when you are taken to a deserted hallway and then pushed into some sort of a cctv-less maintenance room because unless Pedri wants whatever he is about to do to you playing on every other news channel by the evening's end, this would have to do for now. 
"Tsk, tsk, vida" you gulp as you blink repeatedly to get your eyes to adjust to the dim lighting of the room. The door slowly clicks shut behind you and you feel your shoulders jump at the sound due to how quiet it is otherwise. You want to turn around and face your lover, perhaps inquire why he's done what he has done but you're both too intimidated and excited to do so. 
Before you can decide what you want to do, his arms snake around your waist from behind to press your back into his chest as his lips brush against your ear. "What am I going to do with you, hm?" A shudder sets off in your bones as his hands begin to re-explore the bumps and crevices of your body. 
You instantly relax in his embrace and crane your neck backwards to lean your head against his shoulder. "I- I dunno…" The two of you move in a sync and his lips find the crook of your neck. "W- What are you going to do with me…?" Though you intend for your words to be one of fear and panic, what ends up dripping from them is pure excitement. 
Pedri groans before your body is pushed up against the many shelves that are mounted on the middle wall that you face. "I think a lesson in basic manners is a good place to start with" you try your best to feign consternation but the eager way in which you fold your arms over one of the shelves and spread your legs as your boyfriend raises the hem of your skirt from behind gives your intentions away. 
"Oh, no!" Yet you push on; so frustrated and needy at this point that any touch from him is good touch for you.
Pedri clicks his tongue before squeezing your panty clad cheeks. "I spoil you too much, don't I, vida?" You let out a soft sound that you subconsciously make when thinking but your boyfriend cuts off your thought process with a loud slap that catches both your cheeks at once. 
"Ow!" You found out just a few days into dating him that he was much stronger than you with how effortlessly he lifted heavy things and manhandled you when you got more comfortable around each other. So it always hurts like a bitch when he's in a reproachful mood. 
"Already?" He taunts you mockingly and lands another mean spank on your buzzing cheeks. "But vida," your eyes flutter close and you have to slither in a heavy gasp when he drapes himself over you from behind, one hand tracing its way up your side to palm one of your boobs, "I haven't even started with you yet." 
"Hnnng, please!" You push your ass backwards to try and turn him on. That is when you realize that he is rock hard already. 
Well, that explains the edge in his usually calm and collected tone. 
"Being a fussy little brat throughout breakfast" two slaps on each cheek. "Refusing to get out of the shower" you hadn't even realized that you had started 'bratting' out of your ire. You whine and bounce as he settles upon a rhythm. "Scrolling your silly little social media instead of getting ready for lunch" he suddenly yanks your panties off and despite the sting in your backside, you feel your needy hole clench before releasing a thick blob of pure hot arousal. "And then behaving like a perverted little maniac throughout–" the sound that the meeting of his unforgiving fingers with your nether lips -due to the gap that your squirming has caused between your thighs- creates is stunning enough to momentarily mum your boyfriend who is usually a composed know-it-all. 
"Hm~!" The sound is tugged out from deep within your vocal cords. Your knees tremble when you feel Pedri's prying fingers worm their way between your crack before he spreads your privates out. 
"Geez, vida" his breath is hot on your pucker and the snort he lets out when the sensation causes it to clench unconsciously makes blood rush to your face. "I know you're a horny little thing but fuck have you made a mess?" He can act as judgemental as he wants but you know that he loves every little drop of the need that he makes you feel. 
Which is all the time. 
You pout and instinctively push yourself closer to his face. "N- Need you… D- Daddy…" 
"Need me?" Your teeth trap your bottom lip between them when you feel one of his thumbs inch closer to your sopping cunt. "Where do you need me, baby?" 
You whine as your forehead creases. "Y- You know where!" 
He chuckles. "I don't think right now is the time when you push your luck, vida" your features push themselves upwards when you feel the tip of his thumb graze against the outline of your pussy lips. You let out an icy whimper in response so he adds; "Come on, if you tell me how you need me I'll give it to you" though he pretends as though he is unaffected by the sight he faces, you can hear the agitated urgency in his voice.
Your hips timidly try to move against his finger that refuses to give you anything beyond enticing yet unfulfilling strokes over your squishy petals. "I- I… n- need you i- in…" You hear clinking behind you but you are too busy in your desperation to find something pleasurable in the thumb that presses against you. "Inm- mypussy,Daddy" the questioning hum that he lets out rings in your ear when he is behind you within the next second and the way in which his cock jabs its way through your eager entrance at the same time causes for your eyes to bulge out. 
"What was that, baby?" Pedri has to clamp one of his palms over your mouth to keep you from moaning out loud. The sudden bustle that sounds right outside the wardrobe as if on cue causes him to quickly pull back and fuck into you harder as you clench to aid him. It is greedy and rushed; the both of you aware of how you are dangling by a thin thread but the franticness to devour one another so extreme in your bodies that you want to finish before you are caught. 
It is the only goal. 
"I couldn't quite catch that" the way he roughly whispers in your ear to avoid detection from the manager who is busy barking orders at the staff outside while wrapping a hand around your hair has you arching your back as you get fucked into the shelf. When you refuse to respond, he has to add with a mean fondling of your boobs; "Come on, vida. Now you know better than to disobey Daddy when he can very easily destroy you for it" your lust-drunk body springs up in alarm. 
The executions of his threats are always deadly and edging is not even the last thing that you want right now. 
"I…" His cock is too pleasurable inside you as he pushes in before pulling out its length through your tight entrance with each speeding thrust, its girth putting the most knee weakening strain on the band of your pussy as his bulging veins and coarse edges rub against your sensitive walls in a way that causes your head to spin. 
Your head is yanked back by your hair. His lips ghost over the skin of your temple that gets overwhelmed by his irregular breathing. "Go on, vida. You're doing so well taking my cock" his other hand parts from your boobs to reach for one of your knees before it is bent to be propped against one of the lower shelves. Your mouth falls open and your eyes shut to clench themselves at how far up you feel him, his thick tip colliding with your special spot as a result. "Say it for me." 
"I- I need you i- in my pussy, Daddy!" Your cry is rather loud but neither of you are in the mind to care about that anymore. Your hips tighten when the snapping of his hips escalates to full on pounding and the towels and little bottles placed on the shelves begin to rattle and tumble all over. "Always need you in my pussy, Daddy!" He rewards you with the dipping of his fingers between your thighs.
"Good girl" the digits easily find your squelching cunt and he uses his grip on your hair to pull your head to one side so he can bury his face in the crook of your neck. 
The gliding of his fingers is too much for your desperately worked up and frustrated pussy to handle so when his hand uncurls from your hair to pinch one of your nipples while his teeth nibble on that one sensitive patch of your skin, you can't help but throw your head back to let out a gut wrenching moan. 
Your vision fills with neon colors and your hearing declines. The tension within your hips is pulled loose and heat surges through every single knot that has formed in your muscles over the week. Pedri's hot cum that fills you soon after is the perfect end and you finally feel in place after days. 
Sex has the opposite effect on the both of you; while it helps Pedri clear his head, yours gets fuzzy instead. So it is him who fixes you up when he decides that he is done with you for now. You meekly stand like a baby– his baby as he pats your disheveled hair down, adjusts your bra and mends your outfit to the best of his ability. 
"Look at the mess you have made, vida" you whine and snuggle into his chest so you can hide your flushed face when he points out the wreck that you two have made of the place. Pedri chuckles as he fishes out some compensatory money from his wallet and places the bills on one of the shelves before taking your hand in his and helping you walk back to the table as you happily waddle behind him, senses numb but relaxed. No one says anything or even acknowledges your long absence but they know.
The flaming red hickey on your neck is the evidence to their suspicions. 
.
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octoberautumnbox · 8 months
Text
Discordant Waltz: Friday
Oh Sieun ICE Oh Rosi (Former IZ*ONE/Soloist Jo Yuri) & Male Reader
Categories/warnings: smut, anal, uniform, clothed sex, rough anal, uhh anal, loud sex, fuck buddy, fwb, ANAL
Word count: 1.9k
| Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 (coming soon) |
a/n: Based very loosely on Friday by IU actually, but like in a really really perverted way. Also based on Hang On by Jo Yuri babygurl lol. I hope the emotions I want to portray come across well lmao
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Your phone buzzed as you set it at 0% volume. The sparkly bits of the curb shone the orange sunlight into your eyes. Worried about Sieun, you resolved to be a bit early for your regular Friday "date" with her, but the loud angry voices and clanging sounds coming from within her house gave you the impression that she was… busy. At this rate, the six-pack of beer you brought for the two of you would be warm before you even see her.
You leaned back onto the side of her house, waiting for the noises to stop, fiddling with your phone, picking at the gravel beneath your shoes. It was a good spot, the one you’re sitting at, just out of view from the front door in case anyone leaves. You’re not here to intrude, just worried about your… friend. Yeah, just a friend.
Friends look out for each other, after all. They’re supposed to offer support in the times and ways their friends need them to. That’s all you’re doing, just offering support to your friend. Your friend who invites you over to her house to fuck on a weekly basis. Your friend who recently came her brains out in a school restroom with you. Your friend whose visuals while sucking your cock are burned into your mind and easily accessible whenever you need a quick release. 
A voice rings loud from near their front door. You try to hide yourself more, but with such an open space, there’s not much to do. You’re sure you hear Sieun yelling, followed by a loud slam of a door and trudging steps leading away from the house. 
You place your phone in your backpack and, once the coast is clear, you walk up quietly, respectfully, to the poor front door. Before your knuckles come into contact with the wood, the door swings open to reveal your friend, teary-eyed and distraught.
“Look, I– I’m fine,” she says between sobs and ragged breaths. She keeps her eyes shut and covered with her hands as she tries her best not to ruin her makeup. “There’s no reason to…”
You cut her off then and there; whatever’s bothering her can wait. The door shuts and she suddenly finds her back is shoved up against the wall and your hands on her shoulders. Your sudden attack catches her off guard, but your friend is more than willing to let your tongue into her mouth like she always does. She moans a little moan as you lick her tongue back, and she places her hands on each of your cheeks to keep you in place. 
Pull away and give her some breathing room. Notice her unsteady breathing, her tears running down her cheeks. “I brought beer,” you mention casually as if you didn’t just take her breath away, “might be warm by now. Let’s drink it after.”
“I-” is all she can say before you come in for another torrid kiss. Despite a bit more hesitance from her, she welcomes your tongue back in her mouth and tries to match your energy. Run your hands down the sides of her uniform and reach the hem of her skirt. Without breaking the kiss, you open your eyes and find hers closed, with a tear forming and falling down her cheek. She must be really upset. 
Thinking she must really need this, you choose not to waste any more time and grab your friend's ass through her panties under her skirt. She lets out an “ah~” when she feels you kneading the flesh of her butt and melts back into your kiss deeply. You pick her up by her behind, and her legs wrap around your waist as she gets lifted up off the ground. 
You’ve done this a million times by now; you know the way from the front door to her bedroom like the back of your hand. You know it so well that it was no issue at all to carry her there without breaking the kiss. Throw her onto the mattress, forcing her bedframe to groan and creak like you’ve heard countless nights before. She looks at you expectantly, maybe a bit scared, definitely like she forgot about what was on her mind earlier. Now you’ve got her. 
Your shirt leaves your body and you join her in bed, taking your royal place beside her. She captures your lips with hers again, but surprisingly just after a few seconds she pulls you down to her neck. 
Thinking nothing of the new "interests" she now has, you attack her neck, gently biting and licking at her skin and causing her to groan at the feeling of you ravaging previously untouched territory. You enjoy how she feels against your lips and the sweet smell of her long hair that you’ve never been allowed to sniff before. 
She brings your hand over to her thighs, and you graciously start squeezing them and feeling her soft and smooth skin. You found it weird she hasn't asked for your dick yet, but you gather she's still shaken from her earlier fight with whoever that was. Give her time to settle, but also give her the love she needs.
Feeling her thighs warming up, you inch your hand closer to her waiting core. Her legs part and allow access, and you find a large wet spot right over her sex. Pull aside the thin fabric and trace circles around her nub, bite and pull at the skin of her neck. She grows wetter by the second, and moans spill out of her mouth faster than you can rub her off. 
"No marks, please…" she whimpers, obviously flustered but not yet fully needy: just a bit more. 
You respond with another kiss and an attempt to insert two fingers into her leaking pussy, but she pushes your hand away.
“In my ass…” She whispers quietly to you, as if ashamed of wanting it. Your friend shifts to lie on her side and face away from you, presenting you with her pink, virgin asshole. 
Never minding her choices for today, you reach for a condom and the unopened bottle of lube in her nightstand. You strip yourself of your pants and put the rubber on by yourself. You slather lube first on your erect cock, and put some on your fingers before sliding one of them into your friend's butt. 
"Oh oppa, that's good…" she moans as you invade deeper and deeper into her ass. You try finding her good spots inside her tight asshole, but resolve to just get it over with and fuck her as quick as you can. Forget about how she isn’t as chatty as she typically is, forget how oppa is a nickname you’ve never heard from her before. Just forget, and make sure she remembers this, you, instead.
Steady her with a hand on her hip, grip the side of her uniform, line up your rock-hard cock with her waiting hole. Fighting back your lust for the gorgeous woman in bed with you, you give her a taste by inserting your head slowly into her. She sucks in air between her teeth and hisses her pleasure quietly. 
"Mmm…" she tries to contain a loud moan you're sure she wouldn't have been able to hold back if you fucked her as hard as you usually do. Go easy, she needs to relax today. 
You push your cock deeper and deeper into her despite her weak protests. She tries fighting, whispering "not too deep, please," and taking your hand from her hip to grip it hard between hers. You find it increasingly difficult to keep from plowing her as hard as you can, and the way her tight asshole stretches to take you isn't doing you any favors.
A sense of confusion creeps into your mind: you know she takes rougher than this from you all the time, but she seems to genuinely be hurting now. On the other hand, if she's hurting then she would just say your safe word and get herself some breathing room. You soldier on (you know how sick she is in the head), but take extra care not to hurt your friend too bad.
Soon after, your continued thrusts start earning her sweet moans instead. She acclimates to your cock rubbing against the insides of her ass and even starts meeting your thrusts into her. Feel her plump ass on your pelvis, admire how your friend’s skin is smooth against yours. Pull her close, never mind the wrinkles that form on the formerly clean-pressed white blazer she has on. 
There’s no reason to muffle her this time, she can be as loud as she likes. She can bite and kick and scream for all you care, all you need is her to feel as good as she always does on Friday nights. 
“I-I’m close…” Relish in how pliant, how willing, how submissive she is for you. How she takes you so obediently despite her pain like she knows you own her. Her eagerness and the way her insides squeeze your cock so lovingly drive you crazy. As much as you want this night to last forever, you know it’s about to end. 
Fuck her faster. Make sure she feels every vein on your cock, make her yours as her throat sores with her groans.
Pound her harder. She’s pulling at her bedsheets, voice quaking, straining to keep her sanity. Her asshole clenches around you, trying to keep you all for herself.
With a final deep thrust, your orgasm hits you like a bolt of lightning. Bury your thick cock as deep as humanly possible into the woman of your dreams. Your dick twitches and sends waves of pleasure up her spine as her voice strains for higher and higher notes to match her ecstasy. 
At the same time, she's forced over the edge of her sanity and falls into a purgatory of mind-numbing pleasure. She lets out stream after stream of her cum onto the sheets and mattress. Her bite marks imprint on the pillow case, as does whatever ruined makeup she was wearing. 
You both come down from your highs, and you spend a minute, at most two, cuddling her. Finally, expending your energy to peek at whether she's still alert and aware, you get up and lean on your elbow only to find her eyes lazily half-shut, her breathing deep and slow, and her tongue out and resting on the pillow too. 
Remind yourself: this is your friend. This isn't the woman of your dreams; it can't be. Why would you even think otherwise? What else could there be between the two of you? Nothing at all, just friends.
You make sure she's comfortable in bed, drape a blanket over her, and leave her bedroom. On your way out, you place the six-pack of beer into the fridge. 
The walk back home is quiet and somber, like a shower of rain hanging in the sky that’s too stubborn to fall. Must be the post-nut clarity, but you start to wonder: why was Sieun so submissive this time? Why was she letting you kiss her neck, fuck her ass? And what the hell was that uniform?
You vaguely notice your phone vibrate at the bottom of your backpack. You reach in and fish it out, absent-mindedly unlocking it and reading your notifications.
Twenty-seven missed calls.
~~~
| Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 (coming soon) |
a/n: and there you have it! if im being totally honest this was really awkward to write but i hope the anal part earns me a little bit of exp for the next time i write it. btw the emotions i wanted to portray were awkward and weird and conflicted lol. as always feedback is always welcome and i look forward your asks and dms all the time :)))) 
604 notes · View notes
samkerrworshipper · 7 months
Text
exhausted | barca femeni/alexia putellas x reader
reader has insomnia… but doesn’t tell her teammates alexia begins to figure it out though
was gonna make yall wait till tomorrow butttt i rlly can’t fucked lol
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Sleep is something that has never come easy to you.
No matter how hard you try, no matter how much melatonin or herbal teas or meditation you tried, none of it worked.
You, quite simply, could not sleep.
It was fine when you were just a student, when you could dip out of your morning classes or sneak in a nap here and there between classes, when you didn’t have to make it through full days of work.
It was fine when you were playing for London City, when nobody cared about what you were doing, only if you could stop other players from getting past.
It had all changed though when the Barca offer had come in though.
It was known to every single footballer in the women's league that Barca had major injury problems, specifically in their backline, injuries that wouldn’t be resolved until long after the season was over.
You’d never thought though that some absences in Barcelona’s star squad would crate an opportunity for you, but for whatever reason, the Barca selectors had seen something in you, and even though it was mid season, had been desperate to sign you, it was a big move to go from England to Spain, but one you were more than happy to make for the sake of your career.
You’d never thought that the move from home would be so much more detrimental to your sleep schedule, but slowly you’d found yourself becoming more exhausted as you struggled to keep up with your new life.
There were a lot of things that were different about Spain, or more specifically the Barcelona Women’s team. When you were playing in London, training every couple of days and playing once a week, you could afford to miss some hours of sleep during the night, especially considering that nobody in London was concerned about making school a priority over there. You could take some naps during the day, laze around as much as you wanted and go to school whenever you could be bothered.
Barca was different, and not in a good way.
It was good for your football, internationally and just in general. Before Barca, you’d been more of a bench player then a starter for the England under 17s, but your game had lifted and you’d been a consistent starter in every tournament and friendly since.
You were exhausted, more than you’d ever been in your entire life, and you were sure it was starting to show.
It was hard enough being 16, in a foreign country, getting hardly any hours of sleep, training at least three hours a day as well as gym sessions and playing twice a week. Trying to be a full time student as well, it was completely unrealistic and it was starting to show.
“Nena, do you want to slow down on the energy drinks? Someone so itty bitty and young like you shouldn’t be consuming any caffeine, let alone two red bulls before noon, we’re lucky you aren’t pinging off the walls yet.”
Mapi’s hands are on your cheeks, pinching and squeezing them as if you are a baby. Instead of paying her any kind of attention you keep your eyes fixed on your laptop screen and lips pressed to the can of red bull that you’ve been tirelessly sipping at for the past couple of minutes.
Integrating into the team had been hard, but you’d actually become far closer with the crew of injured girls, mapi specifically, as well as her girlfriend Ingrid. Frido had also been one of the first people to welcome you, accompanied by two familiar English faces, Keira and Lucy.
Mapi particularly, had taken you under her wing, or had sort of adopted you in an older sister type fashion. It was sort of annoying, the older Spaniard was constantly talking, to the point where you’d learn to pretty much drown out everything that left her lips.
“If you keep touching my face then it won’t just be your knee that’ll be injured, your hands will be broken as well.”
Mapi frowns at you, her pinching fingers moving to brush loose hair from your face and rub at your temples, trying to rub away the frown lines deeply ingrained on your forehead.
“Wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning did we, nena? You know you’ll get wrinkles if you keep frowning like that, it’s not good for your little baby face.”
You shake your head in an attempt to get Mapi’s hands off of your face, it partially works, but not fully.
“María I am serious, you’ve got three seconds before I tear this can in half and use it to cut off your fingers, don’t you have rehab to do or something more entertaining than bothering me?”
Mapi’s hands fly up in surrender, something you are infinitely grateful for.
“Fine, you want to be grumpy then you can be grumpy by yourself, don’t come looking for me later when you’re bored of school and looking for some fun.”
You don’t bat an eyelid as Mapi retreats from your table.
You take another sip of your drink, praying that it’ll somehow make it easier for you to read the words on your laptop screen, even though it does absolutely nothing.
You’ve read the same page, over and over again and yet it’s done absolutely nothing to make you understand what it is you are supposed to be learning. It’s a mess of consonants and verbs, jumbled up words that just can’t seem to resonate in your brain.
Whilst Mapi has left, unbeknownst to you, you aren’t completely alone in the recovery room.
Alexia has been sitting on one of the massage tables, doing her exercises for the last hour, watching as you’ve gradually been getting far more frustrated with your work.
Alexia’s relationship with you so far has been… rocky.
The captain had made it clear from day one that whilst the club needed you, that your studies were going to be a priority alongside football. If you had known that you’d be going from doing as much school as you liked, to hours of online school everyday, you probably would have reconsidered your move to Spain, but you were here now and struggling more than you cared to admit.
Alexia knew something was up, beyond your clear hatred for school, she just wasn’t sure what yet but she was determined to find out why.
“Everything alright pequena?”
You practically jump at the sound of Alexia’s voice, hand clutching at your heart as you suddenly become aware of a presence in the room that you were unaware existed.
“Perfectly fine.”
You do well to recover from the shock, your eyes darting straight back to your screen almost as quickly as they had left it.
“You’ve been staring at the same page for the last twenty minutes.”
Alexia notices that your hands are shaking slightly, most likely due to the insane amounts of taurine that your body is processing.
“There’s a lot of writing on one page.”
You take another sip, finishing off the can and sliding it across the table.
“Mapi’s right, it’s not good for pequena’s like you to be drinking stuff like that, it’s bad for your brain cells, and don’t get me started on what it does to your body.”
Alexia moves to take a seat beside you at the table, her concern for you growing even more when she took a look at your face and realised how exhausted you looked.
“I don’t need the lecture, I’m poisoning my body, I’m aware of it, now can I please have slime peace so I can finish this off before training starts?”
Alexia isn’t anywhere near satisfied with your answer, she wants you to argue with her, not admit your wrongdoing like it’s nothing.
“Yes, you are, you aren’t an adult, you don’t need energy drinks, you will do perfectly fine without them.”
Your eyes leave the screen to look at Alexia for a second, a little exhale huffing out between your lips.
“Okay, whatever.”
Alexia can’t get past just how tired you look, so tired that you’re seemingly agreeing with her just to avoid conflict.
“Pequena, how about you take a break for a couple of minutes, go get some fresh air, I’m sure you can finish this up later.”
Alexia’s never let you finish school early, you don’t understand why she’s deciding to today.
“I need to get it done.”
Your body is so tense, Alexia’s scared that you’re going to pull a muscle just from how tight your body looks.
“I’m sure it can wait till later, you’ve been sitting here for two hours now, you need a break.”
Your hands are still shaking, and you’re as hunched over as possible without being asleep on top of your laptop.
“Alexia, I’m fine, I’ve just got to finish this and then I’ll be done.”
Alexia’s hand reaches up to meet your shaking one, somehow hoping that it’ll stop the frantic tremors.
“You’re taking a break, just go and spend some time in the team room, or go for a walk, just take fifteen minutes and I’ll next you when you need to be back. Go, now, I’m not asking.”
You slam your laptop closed with more aggression then Alexia’s seen from you all morning, your body dragging itself out of the room without any regards for your captain whatsoever.
Alexia begins to get worried when twenty minutes later, after multiple text messages, you are yet to return.
She knows you’re stressed, that school isn’t what you want to be focusing all of your energy on. But Alexia knows from personal experience how easy it is for somebody of your age with your kind of talent to disregard things like education, something that she believes is so crucial to any adult's life. You need options, Alexia is trying to give you them, even if you seem to hate them with every single fibre in your body.
Alexia decides to go looking for you once twenty five minutes have passed and you are nowhere in sight and have ignored every single one of her messages.
It doesn’t take her long to find you, although she does almost miss you.
Alexia peeks her head into the locker room, simply to ask if anyone has seen you, the room is silent and empty though.
She almost leaves, but just as she’s about to close the door, she spots your body, tucked up inside of your locker, your head tucked into your knees.
You look frightfully unrestful, you don’t look like most people look when they’re sleeping, most people look peaceful, you look bothered, like your body is fighting against the sleep that you so clearly need.
Alexia walks over to you, now more than ever she’s certain you’re sick, that you’ve caught some kind of cold that’s causing this exhaustion and the short tempered mood you’ve been in.
She brings the back of her palm up to your forehead, an action that has your eyes snapping opening immediately.
Alexia’s sort of surprised when she realises you’ve got no fever whatsoever, although she’s well aware that not all sicknesses result in fever, something about it is putting her off.
“Hola pequenita.”
It takes you a few seconds to realise where you are and what’s happening, but as soon as you do you are shaking Alexia’s hand from your face and pushing yourself out of your cube.
“Sorry, time completely slipped past me, I’ll head back now.”
Alexia’s hand grabs your forehand before you have the opportunity to slip past her, tugging you backwards until you’re standing directly in front of your captain, forced to look at her.
“Are you sick?”
Alexia isn’t sure what’s wrong, but it’s clear something is up and sickness is the clearest option. She knows that you are no stranger to energy drinks, she spends most of her time heckling at you to try and put down whatever drink you’ve got in your hands. She’s never seen you down two in such a short amount of time though and sickness would be a good explanation.
“No, I’m fine.”
Alexia can’t find any deceit in your words or mannerisms, it appears that you are being completely honest with her, something that makes Alexia even more confused. None of the tell-tale signs are there, you are telling the truth.
“I know you aren’t a stranger to a midday nap, but it’s unlike you to be so tired.”
Alexia’s arm moves from your forearm up to your face, gently tracing the deep purple bags that are sitting below your eyes. Her thumb is soft, it feels like she’s mending all of the fatigue that lies there, but as soon as her thumb moves it all comes back.
“I’m fine Capí, just stayed up a little bit later last night.”
Alexia can tell that’s a lie, a cover up from whatever it is that you’re hiding from her.
“Well see to it that you get into bed earlier tonight. The team is out on the pitch, I told Jona that you’d join them once finished up with your work that you’d head out but I think you need some fresh air. Better get moving.”
Alexia’s voice is ridged and your body reacts to it, reaching into your locker with more speed then she’s seen you work with all day, you grab your cleats and before Alexia has the chance to speak anymore you are marching out of the rooms and out towards the pitch.
It’s perplexing to Alexia, she hates being lied to, especially when it’s clear something is wrong. She waits in the locker room for a few minutes, trying to piece together the mystery yet she comes up with nothing.
Eventually she makes the decision to go out and watch the training, pitchside, maybe you’ll have perked up now that you’re out doing something you enjoy.
The first thing Alexia notices is how frantically you are playing, it’s unlike you to be sloppy and yet as she watches you it’s all she can observe.
You are sloppy, messy and uncalculated, something that you are normally the opposite of.
You are a technical player, something that has helped you settle into the Barcelona squad with ease, you adjusted to the Spanish way of playing without much fuss.
What Alexia is watching though, you look like a completely different player. You’re practically passing the ball directly to Salma, goal after goal being put through your legs and around your body. It’s embarrassing, and she’s certain other people are picking up on your abnormal behaviour, multiple people, specifically Ingrid coming to check on you and make sure everything is fine.
You shake all of them off, even though it’s clear that something is up and whatever that something is, it’s big and it’s affecting your game and mood majorly.
Alexia’s not surprised when Jona drags you from the field, already yelling at you and sending orders your way, what she is surprised by is the way that you don’t even flinch as he throws never ending criticism your way.
You just stare at him, neither nodding or trying to reply to him, Alexia’s not even sure if you’re hearing him, if you’re present enough to be listening to the words that are leaving his mouth. For a second she considers the possibility that you’re violently hungover or acting under the influence of some kind of substance, it would explain the drowsiness and weird behaviour.
The idea makes Alexia instantly filled with anger, you are 16 and she will take you to the grave if you’ve been touching any kinds of substances. She’s mad enough as it is over the energy drinks, and she’s going to express that when the two of you are in private later on, but the chance that you’ve consumed something illegal for someone of your age, it sends shivers down her spine.
Jona has you back out on the field before you can even begin to respond to his critiques, back into defence where you are brutally humbled time and time again by the likes of Aitana, Salma and Caro.
Alexia cringes every single time, she knows that you are struggling, what she’s completely unprepared for is for you to fully collapse on the field.
Caro volleys another ball over your head and for a second Alexia doesn’t even notice you crumpled up on the ground of the pitch, she’s too busy watching the sight of Caro’s ball perfectly managing to slot in behind Cata. It’s a truly beautiful goal, and truly there isn’t much you could have done about it.
She only notices you when Cata doesn’t turn around to grab the ball, instead, she rushes forwards, leaving the ball long forgotten beside the bottom right post. She’s rushing forwards, down to her knees, directly beside your crumpled up body.
Alexia jumps up from her spot immediately, running faster than she should considering the current state of her knee, it doesn’t matter to her though, seeing your tiny little body all clumped up against the grass terrifies her.
Cata’s smart, and apparently fast acting because before Alexia is sitting down next to you, Cata’s already got her shirt off, drenched it with her drink bottle and has it folded up over your forehead. The cold water seems to bring you back a little bit, your head jerking upwards in reaction to the sudden change of temperature across your skin.
Just as Alexia’s crouching down next to you, the medics are pushing everyone out of the way, kneeling down next to you and doing the same as Cata had done, placing wet towels across your skin. They’re treating it like you’ve got heat stroke and whilst Alexia is aware it’s a warmer day, she knows that whatever is wrong with you, it most definitely isn’t heat stroke.
One of the medics squirts some water onto your face, something that Alexia doesn’t like the look of, but it seems to bring you back awake, your eyes bursting open and blinking furiously as you take in your surroundings.
Alexia can see you panicking immediately, your eyes flashing to the multiple faces that are crowding your vision.
“Everyone take a step back, give her some space.”
The medics and your teammates take a step back, leaving Alexia to skoot herself closer to you. Her hand comes to rest on your face, gently brushing the water residue off.
“Hola nena, stay calm for me, you had a little fall, we’re going to get you inside now, do you think you can get up for me?”
You nod at Alexia, you can’t remember what happened but you don’t want to be on the floor any longer than you have to be.
Alexia helps you up and off the pitch, the medics leading the two of you inside.
Alexia immediately gets you situated on a table, the medics immediately getting their hands all over you.
“Test her heart for me please, and her caffeine and sugar levels. I’ll be right back nena, I’m just going to grab something from my locker, text me if you need anything.”
Alexia is inexplicably angry and she knows that if she spends any more time in a room with you she’s going to yell, or say something that she’s going to regret. If it wasn’t for all the doctors, she probably wouldn’t care but she doesn’t need to air out private situations in front of people who have no business in your private life.
So she stomps her way to the locker room, set on trying to detangle the mess of emotions that has developed deep in her gut ever since this morning.
It’s been longer than this morning, Alexia’s noticed oddities in your behaviour, ever since you’d arrived. The energy drinks, the constant eye bags, power naps whenever you could fit them in. You live by yourself, something that Alexia deeply disapproves of and after today she doesn’t think it should continue on like this. You’d requested your own apartment for two reasons, privacy and because you didn’t want to disturb the private life of your teammates.
Alexia wanted to punch a wall, or throw something. That was all that was running across her mind as she paced back and forth in the locker rooms.
All Alexia could think about was your body, crumpled up on the pitch and she had no idea why and no idea how to help you.
You were sitting in the medical room, by yourself, beside the many doctors and physios who were poking and attaching you to different things.
You were exhausted, you were finding it hard to keep your eyes open. You’d felt the same way all day, hitting the pitch had been too much, too hard, too much energy for your exhausted body.
You wished that you’d feel the same every night when you tried to go to sleep every night, but alas, it felt like as soon as you got into bed, or as soon as you tried to close your eyes sleep just avoided you.
Alexia was probably two laps of the locker room away from throwing her phone at a wall when Mapi walked in, weirded out by the sight of her best friend grinding her feet into the floor as she walked back and forth in the locker rooms.
“Ale?”
Alexia’s pacing doesn’t stop, but she does take a second to look up at María and for some reason the concernedly smiley face of her best friend seems to help the anger bubbling up inside her simmer down slightly.
“Alexia, what’s wrong?”
Alexia’s hands are fidgeting wildly in front of her, her fingers clicking and toying with each other.
“Somethings wrong with Nena, she’s exhausted and frantic and she looks like she hasn’t slept and she’s downing all those energy drinks and maybe they’re getting to her heart? Maybe that’s why she collapsed or maybe she’s sick but somethings wrong and I don’t know what and she collapsed right in front of my eyes.”
Normally, out of the two, Mapi is the one who confides in Alexia the most. Alexia isn’t an openly emotional person and when she is it’s with Olga, because for some reason that woman can get everything and anything out of her. Here though, it’s clear Alexia needs someone to de stress with and Mapi is happy to take up that role.
“It’s just her Alexia, she’s always tired and drinking energy drinks, it’s how the kids these days do it.”
Mapi’s words are supposed to soothe Alexia, honestly they do the complete opposite.
“But she shouldn’t, she’s an athlete, she shouldn’t need them. Mapi, I am telling you, something is seriously wrong, I can feel it. I know she’s always tired, but she looks like she hasn’s slept in weeks and I don’t know why.”
Mapi, for the sake of trying to calm Alexia down, decides that instead of trying to invalidate her worries, it’s best to just try and reason with Ale.
“Ale, how about we go see her, if somethings wrong I’m sure she’d tell us.”
Alexia nods at Mapi, taking the extended arm that her friend gives her and allowing the Zaragozan to lead her back to the physio room she’d previously been in.
When she returns, she’s relieved to see that you look a lot better than how you had on the pitch. There are still grass stains across your face, but you’re less pale than you were before and you’re sipping on a gatorade which somehow makes Alexia feel less guilty about the whole situation.
“Hola pequena.”
Your eyes manage to meet Alexia’s, something that kind of shocks her, considering just how weighed down your eyes seem to be by the deep purple bags underneath your eyes.
“Bon dia.”
Alexia would not call this a good morning, she couldn’t even call it an okay one.
“What’s wrong?”
Alexia’s focus is on the physios, not you, she’s saving you for later.
“Luckily, not a lot. I checked her heart and I couldn’t find any abnormalities, it’s clear that she’s tired, she’s told me she woke up a little bit earlier than normal this morning which paired with the warmer weather and some minor dehydration is probably the main cause. She’ll take today off, rest up, but I can’t find anything that would indicate any serious underlying problems so there isn’t any reason why I would say she couldn’t be back on the pitch tomorrow.”
It’s a positive sign, but not what Alexia wants to hear, she wants something to be wrong, so that she can get to the bottom of whatever is happening to you.
“Good, thank you, do you think you could give us the room for a couple of minutes, por favor?”
The physio smiles at Alexia, giving her a nod before leaving the room discreetly.
As soon as Alexia is certain he is no longer within hearing distance, she pivots on her heel, so she’s facing you directly.
“What are you hiding?”
It’s so ominous, even Mapi thinks it’s a little bit far-fetched, as a 16 year old, Mapi was probably hiding more than she was sharing, it’s not really a fair question.
“What am I hiding?”
It sounds like you're even struggling to get words out, your voice is just so tired, like it’s taking up so much energy for you to speak a few simple words.
“Somethings wrong, you’ve been drinking all these energy drinks, which are not only far too caffeinated but also extremely bad for you and you look like you haven’t slept properly in weeks.”
You want to tell Alexia that she’s right, you aren’t sleeping properly, you haven’t been your whole life, but she wouldn’t be the first person who tried to help you and has failed miserably in the process, it’s quite simple, sleep and you just simply do not work.
“Anyone from England would tell you that I just drink energy drinks, it’s not that deep Alexia.”
Mapi is teetering on the edge of having to hold Alexia back from causing you bodily harm.
“Deep? Collapsing on a pitch is not deep? It seems pretty deep to me amor, you can hardly talk, you could hardly read this morning, it’s clear something is wrong and I want to know what.”
You don’t know how to tell Alexia that something isn’t wrong, this is just you, or the new version of you in Spain. Your insomnia had always affected you, moving to Spain had seemed to make it worse but you’d always lived like this, ever since you could remember, sleep was just something that you could never have consistently.
“Nothings wrong, I am fine, I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”
Alexia’s jaw sets and for a second Mapi does truly worry for you.
“I want you to not lie to my face.”
You visibly flinch at those words, you don’t want nor mean to lie to Alexia, but you figure you are saving yourself from a merry go round of painful conversations.
“I’m not lying.”
Alexia knows you are, she’s not stupid.
“Right, well you’ve got the day off, you’ll be coming home with me and staying with Olga and I until you look less like you are on the brink of a coma. María will go get your things.”
Mapi nods quickly at Alexia, walking out of the room as quickly as she can manage, leaving just you and Alexia.
Even though Alexia is mad, she begrudgingly helps you up from the bed, draping your arm over her shoulder to give you somebody to lean on as she walks the two of you out to her car. She’s just gotten you seated in the passenger seat and closed your door when Mapi pops up with your things. Before Alexia can hop into the car and get going, Mapi stops her.
“Be easy on her, si? She’s going through something and I know you want to know, I know you want to help her but whatever is wrong, she’s not talking about it for a reason. Maybe she doesn’t need you questioning her, just take a look, a proper look at her and see if you can get a better idea. For me?”
Alexia knows that Mapi won’t let go of her shirt without some kind of acknowledgement that she’s going to agree to her.
“Okay, I’ll go easy on her.”
It’s a half truth, Mapi seems to accept it though, letting go of Alexia’s shirt so that the Catalan can take her seat in her car and begin to drive the two of you home.
The car ride home is eerily silent, Alexia keeps her eyes focused on the road, her knuckles whitening from the grip she has on the steering wheel and her jaw so set that you begin to worry that her teeth must hurt from the constant clenching.
When the two of you pull up to Alexia’s house you’re feeling a lot better, your head is clearer and you don’t feel as broken as you had earlier.
You clamber out of the car, walking your way slowly to Alexia’s front door. Alexia bothers around with the keys, twisting them in the hole before opening up the door for the two of you.
“Ale? You’re home early.”
Olga’s voice filters in from the kitchen, the two of you making your way through until you spot her.
“Nena, is that you? I didn’t know we were going to have company, if I had I would have cleaned up a little bit for you.”
You shake your head at Olga, giving her a small smile that you’ve reserved just for Alexia’s partner.
“Go sit down on the couch, get your feet up.”
Alexia’s voice is stern, it immediately makes Olga frown at her.
Alexia allows her girlfriend to drag her from the kitchen and into their pantry.
“What’s with the mood?”
Olga’s happy space is her and Ale’s house, it’s supposed to be the one place that the both of them can get away from football and stress.
“Nena is hiding something, she collapsed at training and we don’t really know why but she does and she won’t tell us.”
Olga nods her head, the somehow younger but wiser woman putting on her thinking hat and trying to rationalise what Alexia is telling her.
“Don’t you think it would be smarter to try and be nice to her? I know that she’s fucked up, but it’s clear she just needs some love right now, maybe you should be giving it to her.”
Alexia thinks that Olga doesn’t understand the whole situation, she doesn’t see you everyday, doesn’t see how ragged you are and how deep this issue stems, but she also can’t not listen to her, the woman somehow tends to always be right and she can’t see why that would change now.
“Okay, okay.”
Olga smiles at her, getting up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to Alexia’s jaw before pushing her out of the pantry and back into the kitchen.
Alexia is unsurprised to find you dead asleep on her couch, your head lulled against one of her couch pillows. She’s glad, and decides to pocket the inevitable conversation she is going to have to have with you, instead opting to help her girlfriend make lunch.
You sleep for a total of 40 minutes, something that Alexia is less glad about. As soon as she notices you’re awake she’s forcing a bottle of water into your hands and two aspirins. You take them before she shoves them down your throat, taking multiple gulps of the water so Alexia didn’t have another reason to be mad with you.
To be fair, she looked a lot less mad than she had earlier, you wouldn’t even really describe how she looked as mad, more concerned.
Alexia sat down in front of you on the couch, taking a deep breath before she started speaking.
“I’m not going to force you to tell me anything, I understand that you are going through a lot, I just need you to know that I’m here for you, anything you need nena I am here to support you and try and help you however I think best.”
Alexia’s words cut deep for you, it’s a struggle for you not to break out in tears, as much as you really want to.
“I know Ale.”
She nods at you, holding back her own tears, there’s some kind of understanding between the two of you, that you aren’t going to cry or speak, just acknowledge each other for now.
“Olga’s made up the spare room for you, you’ll stay here until you’re in a better place. You’re welcome here and you’ll be no bother for the next couple of weeks.”
You nod your head, biting down on your tongue to stop yourself from arguing back to her.
The rest of the afternoon is fairly similar, you are fed by Olga and then spend the majority of the rest of the day lounging on the couch, occasionally falling asleep, but as Alexia notices, never for longer than 40 minutes. It’s like your body refuses to properly rest.
When dinner comes around you look just as exhausted as you had this morning, you just look a little bit less dead.
After dinner, you head off to bed, alexia’s glad, she’s hoping that you’ll have a nice long proper sleep and that all of this will be solved.
She’s wrong.
Instead of hopping into bed, you pull out your laptop, knowing that if you stand a chance at getting even two hours of sleep it’s not happening any time soon.
You work at your school work, completing the things you hadn’t finished earlier. When 12 o’clock rolls around, you force yourself away from your laptop and underneath the covers of alexia’s extremely comfortable spare bed.
You stare at the roof, every now and again you’ll twitch and for some reason it’ll hurt your brain. You play your favourite song over and over again in your head, praying that it’ll somehow lull you to sleep, it neves does. You stare at the ceiling and try to focus on the sound of the fan. You stare at the ceiling and wonder if the swirl pattern in it is mobing. You think about your favourite film and how the characters used to provide you so much peace. When you remember how much they meant to you, you let a few stray tears fall.
You stare at the ceiling.
Every once and a while, you’ll roll over and press your face into the pillows and pull the covers over your head and hope that if you hide somehow you’ll fall asleep.
Eventually, you’ll fall asleep.
Sometimes it takes hours, all for you to wake up half an hour later feeling as unsatisfied as ever.
It’s how you live, it’s the same routine every night, it’s your normal.
When 4am rolls around and you’ve managed to get a measly twenty minutes or so of sleep, you climb out of the sheets, annoyed that your glass of water is empty. Your eyes are dry and itchy with the feeling of needing to cry, you push that feeling deep into your gut, ignoring the desperate need to ignore your feelings in favour of keeping a strong face.
You try to be as quiet as possible, filling up your glass and taking a seat on Alexia’s couch, looking out of the window of her lounge room at the Barcelona skyline that lights up along her back fence.
“Nena is that you?”
You nearly jump out of your skin.
Alexia is standing in the kitchen, leaning up against the island, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and staring at you inquisitively.
“What are you doing awake?”
The words trigger something in you, it’s probably the half dazed state you’re in, the complete exhaustion and annoyance you’re experiencing at your inability to sleep, but all of a sudden, tears are dripping your face and you don’t know why or how.
Alexia freezes for a second, she’d expected something obviously, but crying was not one of those things.
She’s never seen you cry, she’s never had to deal with a teenager who is breaking down right in front of her eyes. She doesn’t know what to do, or how to help you, all she knows is that you are crying a lot and she is just standing and watching.
The problem solver in Alexia tells her that she has to do something, so she paces her way over to the couch, sitting down beside you and tentatively wrapping an arm around your shoulder. She doesn’t know whether or not it’s the right way to go, but it seems to pay off when you immediately relax into her, your head craning into the pocket of her neck and shoulder. Fresh, warm tears drip down onto Alexia’s skin.
Alexia is tense, her back as straight as a board. She doesn’t normally have to deal with this kind of thing, she doesn’t have to try and sympathise with feelings. She’s not an emotional person herself, she cries once a year normally and that’s on the anniversary of her fathers death.
“Nena, it’s okay, I’m here.”
Alexia’s words are calculated, strategic, like she’s reading them off of google or something. Truly, she doesn’t intend for them to come off that way, but it’s kind of just how they do.
Alexia waits for the tears to stop coming, she figures it has to happen, you can’t just cry forever.
The two of you sit like that, crisscrossed on the couch until you manage to compose yourself, until you’ve cried out all the annoyance and grievances over your current predicament.
In the past, your insomnia would stop you from sleeping for days, but eventually the exhaustion would catch up with you and you would get a good night or a few of sleep, but it had been weeks now of you living in Barcelona and sleep had been avoiding you the whole time.
“Nena, what’s wrong?”
Right now, it feels like everything is wrong, it feels like your whole world is upside and you want it to be normal, you want to just be able to close your eyes and get some fucking sleep.
“I can’t sleep.”
Alexia’s brow furrows.
“Well maybe you shouldn’t have had so many energy drinks, no?”
It’s the kind of reply you should have expected.
“No Alexia, I can’t sleep, I have insomnia.”
Alexia struggles with the translation in her head, in-som-ni-a?
“Sorry, what?”
You take a deep shaky breath, pulling your head away from Alexia’s chest so that you can rub the tears from your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt.
“Insomnia, I can’t sleep, medically. I have a condition that stops me from being able to sleep regularly.”
Alexia’s head all of a sudden starts working, she’s a little bit behind, it’s 4am after all and she’s struggling to keep her eyes open.
“You can’t sleep?”
You shake your head, Alexia wants to tell you that you’re being silly, but when she sees the pure heart break and exhaustion in your eyes she knows that you can’t be lying. You look so young, tear tracks all over your face and body caved in on itself.
“I can’t sleep.”
It makes more sense to alexia now, all the energy drinks, the exhaustion, the power naps.
“Have you talked to the team doctors about it, I’m sure they could give you medication or something that could make it better, this can’t go on forever, nena.”
You shake your head at Alexia, your exhaustion turning to fear.
“No and you have to promise you won’t either. I’ve been through it, the sleep tests, all of it. I won’t take drugs, you can't make me and I refuse to.”
It’s like you go from being a mellowed out version of yourself to an attack dog.
“Nena, you need help, you can’t keep playing when you can hardly keep yourself standing.”
You shake your head, so fast that Alexia worries you might pass out from the sudden and frequent movements.
“I’m not taking drugs, you can’t make me, I won’t do it.”
Alexia doesn’t know where this sudden defensiveness has come from, but she knows two things. She needs to make sure that you understand that she can be there for whatever you are going through whilst also trying to figure out what is your random refusal to not take medication.
“Wouldn’t it help some?”
It’s hard to explain your complete hatred for any kinds of drugs. You’d grown up in a household where your mom might as well have been a druggie with how little she was invested in your life and where your dad was a legitimate druggie.
You struggled to take paracetamol, let alone any kind of prescribed drug.
You were scared shitless that somehow, you would turn out like your father and that was the last thing you could ever want.
You didn’t come from a loving home, you didn’t come from a place where you got the newest cleats every year and the best training. You came from a home where grocery money was spent on cocaine and any football money was spent on heroin. You’d been lucky enough that you were good enough for England teams to notice you, for academies to notice you. You were always good enough that you didn’t have to fork out the extra money and if you did it was your own money.
That’s why you’d been so eager to get out of England, to come to Spain. It saved you from the lifestyle that you had been so desperate to get away from.
“I’m not going to take medication Ale.”
For a long time, you’d blamed the insomnia on the constant partying that happened at your house as a kid. Your dad was a revolving door house kind of person, there were always people inside of your house, women, druggies, sex workers, partiers. It was never ending, and for a logn while you’d just thought you couldn’t sleep because of the constant noise inside of your house. When you went away for your first camp at 11, you realised that just simply wasn’t it, you had a serious problem. Maybe it was a byproduct of always being in a house full of noise, or maybe it was just your fucked up ness, you just knew that somewhere along the way, everything in your brain started working backwards.
“Nena, you don’t have to take medication, but can you tell me why?”
You figure that you’ve already told Alexia too much, why stop now?
“My dad has drug problems, always has, probably always will. My mom was never really home as a kid, when she was it wasn’t pretty. I don’t want to turn out like them. That’s why I didn’t go home over the break”
Alexia’s heart drops. She’s been through her own problems with her family, her fathers death and so on. But she’s always had something and that is a safe place to go if she ever needs it. Her parents loved her, they did everything to protect her as a child, Alexia grew up in a space where she could be whoever she wanted and her parents would support her. You, to some extent, clearly didn’t and it explained a lot to her. It explained why you were so hesitant to accept help from anyone, and why you were such a lone wolf, you had to be for survival.
Alexia suddenly wraps her arms around you, all of a sudden feeling an overwhelming sense that she has to protect you, that you need her to keep you safe.
You’re crying again, it hurts less this time, it comes more from a place of exhaustion than annoyance and anger.
“I just want to rest Ale, I just want some peace.”
Alexia’s grip tightens, she’s compressing your bones in the best way possible.
“It’s okay nena, I’ve got you, it’s going to be okay.”
Alexia just holds you, until you exhaust yourself so much from the crying that you fall asleep.
She doesn’t want to wake you, not after everything you’ve just confessed to her, so she lays herself down on the couch, keeping you pulled tight to her chest as she drapes a blanket over the two of you and rests down against the pillows, deciding that she might as well get a few hours in for herself.
You wake up to the sun in your eyes and the smell of bacon and pancakes.
You feel better than you have in weeks, blinking the sleep away from your eyes and slowly sitting up as you adjust to your surroundings.
Alexia and Olga are in the kitchen, talking hushedly as Alexia cooks over the stove and Olga rocks with her from behind. It feels and looks intimate and you are so tempted to sneak out of the front door to leave them to their peace and avoid all the obvious issues that are going to have to be unpacked with your captain.
You’re seriously considering, but your plotting is stopped when Olga turns around to grab something and she spots you on the couch, conscious and awake.
“Bon Dia, nena.”
Alexia pivots as well, sending a smile towards you.
“Good morning, what time is it?”
Olga detaches herself from Alexia, moving towards the fridge.
“It’s just past six.”
2 and a half hours of sleep, that’s not bad at all, it’s better than you’ve had in weeks.
“Breakfast is almost done, if you want to take a seat at the table.”
You nod at Alexia, standing up from your spot on the couch and walking over to the dining table, taking a seat at the table and trying to tame your bed head whilst Alexia plates up the food.
The plate she hands you is full of food, bacon, toast, pancakes, sausages, fruit. It reminds you of home in a weird way, it’s not a truly traditional Spanish breakfast, more English and it seems like Ale’s done it for a reason.
She waits until you’ve started to tuck into your food before she starts speaking.
“I’ve scheduled a meeting with Jona and the medical team this morning, for you.”
Your boyd goes from relaxed and at peace to tense, Alexia knows it’s breaking your trust in a way, but she also knows that she’s now obligated to protect you.
“I told you I don't want doctors or drugs.”
Alexia takes a deep breath, looking over at Olga and being reminded that sometimes she has to do hard things.
“I know nena, and i’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to, I don’t think I could if I tried, but this can’t keep going. I did some research, there are some really good drugs for people that struggle like you, that aren’t addictive and can help lots. I’m not a doctor and neither are you. We don’t know about these things, it’s not our job, but there are people who do know about this stuff and they can try to help you, really help you. You can’t live like this, it’s not sustainable in any way, we need to find some way to fix this. Whether it’s therapy or medication or resting, you need something and you can’t provide it yourself.”
Alexia words are a punch to the gut, but they also make sense, she knows what she’s talking about.
“You promise that I won’t have to do anything I don’t want to?”
Alexia nods her head, she’s shocked that you’re already sort of agreeing with her.
“I promise nena, I just want to help you somehow, however that may be.”
You take a big bite of your food, and a gulp of the orange juice that Olga has set down next to you.
“I slept better than I have in months last night, because of you, I don’t know how or why but something you did made me sleep and if you think that I need help, then I can’t really argue with that. It needs to be on my own terms though.”
Alexia nods, this is so hard for you, accepting help, accepting that you have a problem that needs fixing.
“Of course nena.”
You nod, drawing all of your thoughts together.
“I think I need help Ale, I want help.”
916 notes · View notes
mypoisonedvine · 1 year
Note
Humbly requesting knotting with werewolf bill pleaseeeeee I’m thirsty 🥺
oh god oh jesus oh no oh god oh jesus this got out of hand quickly...
warnings: knotting and a few other a/b/o tropes but technically not a/b/o cause reader is 'normal', semi-werewolf bill (I don't get into the specifics it's porn), size kink and some pain, breeding kink, biting/marking kink
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"I don't want to hurt you," he said, but his grip was getting tighter on your thighs; you knew he needed this. It's why you agreed in the first place— but the little fucker kept stalling.
Okay, actually, not a little fucker. That was exactly what was holding him back now: knowing he was anything but little.
"I would never forgive myself, really," he insisted, "if you— if it hurt you. If I—"
"Bill, it's okay," you promised. "I can take it."
You weren't actually totally sure of that; now that you'd seen his cock, and now that you'd read about werewolves and their... mating, you were a bit nervous that he really would ruin you. But you at least wanted to try— and you knew that whatever he needed, you could give. "But if you need me to stop—"
"I know," you sighed, "you'll be the first to know."
He sighed, looking down at you and tilting his head slightly. "You're too good to me," he breathed.
"Hey, just a favour between friends," you insisted, even though it was obviously more than that; he laughed a little, knowing this was beyond the typical bounds of a friendly offering. But you'd been the one to suggest it, when he explained to you how sick he could get if he didn't give in to his breeding instinct, and he had only checked that you really meant it about a thousand times before he agreeing to it.
His cock was already hard, of course; actually, it was throbbing, like it knew what was coming. He'd been struggling to control himself as soon as he smelled you— your cunt, your arousal, he swore he could hear your heartbeat. His body longed to fill you, breed you, claim you, and it was a little more than just his newfound werewolf qualities talking... but he wasn't quite acknowledging that consciously at the moment.
He laid his cock down over your stomach, pressing his base right up to where it would meet you if he was balls deep, and almost snarled at the sight of his tip surpassing your belly button. "S'how deep it's gonna be..." he whispered to you.
You swallowed thickly. "I can fit it. At least I'll try."
He shut his eyes, summoning a few more moments of patience, swearing to himself that he would be gentle with you even if it took more self-control than he felt he had at the moment.
"I-it's okay if you don't want to, with me," you added quickly, nervous with the way he seemed to keep hesitating. "It was just an idea..."
But he was so focused on admiring your body under him, your spread legs and the wet, waiting cunt between them— soft skin, a patient stare on your face; there was a sick little voice in his mind, shouting out from one of the deepest corners ruin, ruin, ruin. He needed you to be his. He knew how dangerous this was; but it nearly killed him last rut, not being able to fuck anything but his hand. He already felt the base of his cock pulsing, ready to swell and knot anything at this point. "I want you," he whispered. "Really fucking bad. Is that okay?"
You bit your lip. "Yeah, that's okay. I want you to do it, Bill— take me. I wanna help you."
He nodded a little, before he leaned down and kissed you. The kiss was gentle, shockingly so— that was the last of his human resolve, it felt like. It was the way he imagined he should've kissed you a long time ago, if he wasn't always too nervous to try. You kissed him back, reaching up to gently hold onto his arms. You felt... little. Smaller than usual. Maybe it was your shyness, or maybe it was just that he felt big in times like this.
He pressed his swollen head to your opening, and sighed as he plunged forward. Your nails dug into his skin, but he kept going; you whined against his lips, but he kept going, going going until he was flush against you and your eyes were rolled back in your head. "F-fuck, Bill— s'deep..."
"Fuck," he groaned, lifting you up, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close; he needed to feel you everywhere, as much as he could. "Is it hurting you?"
"No, fuck," you promised, holding onto him in return, "just move. I'm ready."
He tried to be slow, really, but it was hard not to just let his animal side take over. With all his patience, he managed to keep it not-quite-rushed but still not delicate either; you whined and hid your face in the crook of his neck, so he kissed the side of your head as he tried to remind himself not to hurt you. "It won't take me long," he assured, thinking that was a good thing in this case since you were probably struggling with it. "I— I haven't at all, since... since it happened. And I need it more than ever."
He saw your bare shoulder, and he shuddered with desire.
"You're so pretty," he breathed, "I want— I wanna bite you. Fuck, is that weird?"
"Do it," you pleaded, baring your neck for him; he was totally helpless to that, and he licked all over your skin before carefully sinking his teeth in. "Fuck! Bill, fuck, I like it— I like when you do that to me..."
He growled and did it again, on your shoulder; he wanted to mark you all over until you could never hide what he'd done to you. "Tell me it feels good," he demanded.
"It feels— oh god, Bill, it feels really fucking good... your cock is— fuck!" you moaned, and he could feel you shaking in his arms.
"I want you to come first," he whispered, "it might make it easier to take. I don't think I'll last much longer..."
He held your hips and tilted them just right, so your clit could grind against the spot above his cock— which was already just about ready to knot you, by the way, but he was holding it back somehow— and he hoped you wouldn't mind that he hadn't done much to tame the wild ginger hairs there.
He almost lost his cool when you started to rub yourself on him, rocking your hips just the way you needed, moaning louder in his ear. All he could've hoped for was that this would satisfy him, but clearly you loved it too, and that made him twice as desperate in an instant. "Fuck, it's coming— the knot," he warned with a gasp. "M'gonna breed you. Fuck. Gonna give you pups."
"Bill," you sobbed, but he couldn't stop talking as he fucked you faster and rougher than ever.
"Gonna be so fucking pretty— so fucking full," he groaned, "full of me. Gonna be mine now."
"Yeah," you panted.
"Gonna be so good for me, m'gonna breed you over and over—"
"Fuck!" you whimpered, and he could feel you pulsing, creaming around him; it was enough to make a growl echo in his chest.
"Mine," he insisted again, "my girl. Say it."
"Yours," you promised, "fuck, I want it— knot me, Bill, breed me—"
He already was, as soon as you said he was yours: the base of his cock filled and he heard your words break into a shaky sob as it pushed you to your absolute limits. He'd imagined he might pull the knot out of you before it got too big, to save you the pain, but now that he was here he had no intentions of keeping it anywhere but safe and warm inside you. "Good girl," he praised, "all fucking mine. Can you feel it? Feel me breeding you?"
You were speechless, just shivering and nodding; he could feel your tears, they were running down his chest as you pressed your face against him, and he should've felt guilty for how much he loved it.
Still, a bit of sanity was returning now that his knot was inside you, his come filling you— and not a drop of it would go to waste, with him keeping you plugged like this.
He held tighter onto you and laid you back on the beg again, kissing your tear-stained face.
"Tell me you're okay," he requested quietly, and you just nodded. "I'm sorry, I— not everything I said was— you won't get pregnant, there's a potion for it."
You smiled a little. "It's fine."
"It's fine, as in, it's fine that I said it, or... it's fine, you won't take the potion?"
Your wide, teary eyes looked up at him, and he figured he might have said too much, but he couldn't find the heart to take it back. "Would you... I mean, would you let me—?"
"Would I let you have my baby?" he chuckled. "It's your choice."
"That's... a pretty big favour for a friend," you mumbled, and he laughed before he nuzzled his face against yours.
"How about if I'm in love with you? What then?" he whispered. "And if you loved me to? Maybe we could..."
"Yeah," you breathed, "okay. Maybe."
He purred happily as he kissed one of your tears away. "Good," he said, "because I think when this knot goes down, we might have to start all over."
1K notes · View notes
neetily · 1 month
Note
First time request! Magic pocket pussy with Sam if possible <3 loved loved loved Alex's and Sebastian's versions that I'm requesting Sam! Collecting them all like pokemon.
I don't have any particular details in mind, maybe something desperate, needy, feral on Sam's part but he's too shy and sweet to act upon it? Maybe?
Whatever you'll write, I'm positive I'll love it haha
ough... perfect request to begin with, thank u so much for ur patience in waiting for me to get to it!! magic pocket pussy is one of my favourite tropes to write about, even if it's a bit obscure hehe... u can have so much fun with it !!
hope you enjoy this piece <3 !!
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— ✧ warnings: magic pocket pussy, sex toy, dubcon, brief cunnilingus, masturbation (m solo), pussyjob, premature ejaculation — ✧ word count: 2,461 — ✧ genre: smut (18+)
— ✧ A/N: i used the word "fap" exactly once in this writing so if u hate it im sorry but i think it's so sexy. that's all :D...
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When desperate times call for desperate measures, you often find yourself in the kind of situation that you never thought possible, right? Sam, too, finds himself in the midst of a certain predicament. A particularly vexing position that he's not sure how to resolve in the most effective manner, torn between his heart and his brain. And to be honest, he wouldn't have even been placed in such a messy state of affairs if it wasn't for his previous bout of indecision too, just like now, chewing at his bottom lip as he gently squeezes the soft object between his sweaty palm. Anxiety churns thickly in his chest as he remain idle, choking on thin air as he stares blanky off into space.
Except his mind isn't anywhere near as blank as his face lets on, thoughts racing, one after another— should he? He really shouldn't... He's not dumb, he knows what the right answer is, it's just that he might be stupid enough not to take it is all.
On one hand, the toy between his fingers is the closest he can get to you at the moment, lest he somehow grows enough courage to confess his true feelings in the hopes of getting a single sweet taste of the real deal; but that hasn't happened this far. And he doubts it'll pass him by soon. And on the other hand, fuck, he knows that what his heart—and his rock hard cock—wants more than anything right now is wrong. God, it'd be so fucking wrong, wouldn't it? Just terrible of him to follow through with his wishes, all because he's too chicken to ask you out on a date.
... And yet.
He's not proud of himself, giving in to his more baser emotions as the magic pocket pussy stares back at him, even just catching sight of the soft pink toy causes his cock to twitch against his pants, a prompt hiss escaping him at the rough contact between his leaking tip and underwear. You need to know that he's sorry, that he's no better than those he means to beat when it comes to obtaining your affections— he's just better at hiding his misdeeds. Right, yeah. That's all. It should be okay if he just... Doesn't let you know, right? He's just curious is all, and you're so kind hearted that you'd probably understand his inability to withhold himself when it comes to you, even just the mere imitation of you, right? After all, he's just a man at the end of the day.
A needy, desperate, cheek chewing, anxious leg bouncing man, allowing his thumb to smooth over the outer lips of the faux toy with seedy intent. And his reaction is almost immediate, spare the way his mind lags behind out of nervousness.
Oh, you're so soft. Bringing the toy up to meet his gaze, throat drying up the instant he takes a proper good look at all the folds and creases, gulping down the sight of the perfect little hole that's just begging for his touch. A shudder runs through him as he continues to stroke just the outer lips of the toy, doing a better job of edging himself as opposed to teasing you. Not that he can know just how much he might be teasing you right now, given that you're likely alone in bed at the old farmhouse as he plays with himself in his childhood bedroom. But nonetheless, the way his cock twitches and leaks for attention—your attention—is enough for him to know that he's the loser in this instance. Pathetic right down to the way his fingers tremble against the toy, how his tongue starts to poke out from between his wobbly lips, dying to prove himself to you from the shadow. God, he's had a crush on you for fucking ever, it's embarrassing how he's this whipped for a fucking fleshlight of you.
No matter, honestly. It's not like you're around to bear witness to just how much he needs you, how tight and taut his balls are at the mere thought of pleasuring you. To see how deplorable he truly is deep down inside, enough to yearn for your tight hole regardless of your presence. It's sickening, makes his tummy flip with butterflies when he takes a greedy inhale of the toy slit, huffing eagerly to see if it even owns your smell and— "Fuck—" so good, smell so fucking good just like he'd imagined, snapping the last straw of restraint his rational mind was desperately clinging on to in favour of letting his tongue loll out to lick a fat stripe up and down your cute little cunt; and he's instantly done for.
Knew he would be, truthfully. So down bad for you it borders on obsession, the twinge of guilt pittering against his heart is easily overtaken by the hard throb of his cock, though. Convincing him to continue, to give in to his instincts more so as to make you feel just how much he loves you, even if you've got no idea that it's him behind that strange late night feeling between your legs.
Because the toy is linked to you, of course. Based off your form, an apparently perfect replica of your most private parts— or so the wizard in that creepy old tower had promised him. And he's inclined to believe that old man just due to how fucking cute the faux cunt is, can imagine it suiting you so perfectly, poking his tongue between the faux folds experimentally, just to see if he can gain any sort of reaction out of you.
In the meantime of wetting your pretty pussy up for him, he wrestles with his jeans and tugs them off with his boxers soon following suit. Leaving his bottom half completely bare, tight fist automatically squeezing at the base of his throbbing cock in an effort to relieve some of the built up pressure just looking at your cunt has built within him, but it barely does the job. Prompting a low whine to escape his dry throat, murmured right against your hole as he sticks his tongue into it, exploring your squishy insides with an unintentionally eye roll— "Fuuuuh—" he babbles, unable to properly enunciate his curses due to fucking his tongue in and out of you out of sheer need. An undeniable requirement to tongue fuck out as much of your cunt juices as possible; that'll mean that the wizard wasn't lying, surely.
And oh, he can just imagine the look on your face so well right now. Cute furrowed brows, maybe your lips are parted just that small amount in both confusion and enjoyment, right? He wonders if you'd be searching between your legs just as frantically as he sucks and licks all over your cunt, slurping at your hole once or twice more before coming to the conclusion that shit, the old man was telling the truth.
A string of saliva and slick mixed together connects him to your cunt, another gush of it dripping from your hole from assumed contractions as he drops the pocket pussy to his waist, hovering it just behind his cock while his arm works automatically. Dumb eyed stare, moving off of instincts alone, giving in to his innermost desires when it comes to you with a quick snap of his wrist up and down his erection, his mouth hanging open to freely pant and moan into the night air because it feels so fucking good to finally have a taste of you. An albeit small one, but he's not about to complain when he can still taste you on his lips, licking himself clean as he instead focuses on the slick up and down of his hand on pulsing cock, simply admiring the view of your cunt from afar. It somehow feels better than ever before, now that he knows that he really shouldn't be doing this to you right now, but he's not some kind of monster, you should at least know that.
He won't stick his dick in you, not yet. Far too shy to, really. Even if there's no one around to witness his perversion. He still likes you, wants more than anything to make you feel good, and he's sure that the feeling of some phantom dick ruining your inside might scare you for good. But— his cock still throbs and his balls still ache for release, all the pumping away at his length is doing very little to offer him resolution.
There are things yet that he can do with the toy that will satisfy both you and himself. Things that won't scare you too badly, and that won't push his limits too far. He might need you more than words can say at the moment, but he figures he can work up to it eventually. Need to encourage himself first.
For now, he settles with angling his cock towards the toy cunt hole, mouth watering from the heat he can feel radiating from it. Such a slippery slope he's found himself in, gliding his cock head against your slit, letting his precum dribble out all over your folds, coating his knuckles sticky too from the copious amounts of it as it trickles down. Ah, if only you were here to see the things you do to him, maybe then you'd understand why he's unable to restrain himself right now. Shuffling to lay down on his bed in a more comfortable position, pocket pussy held stationary for him to simulate the act of sex more accurately, lifting and dropping his hips against the outside of the toy with plenty of hushed curses falling from his bitten lips. It's late at night, and he's huddled amongst his bedsheets, cock completely out, rubbing one out against what he knows is your cunt, hoping that you can feel every drip and drop of precum the warm heat of your folds fuck out of him as he slips and slides against you, letting his head fall back against the pillow behind him in utter bliss, no residual regret left in his body because your cunt—the simulated version of it—feels almost too good to be true.
"I can't—" He breathlessly laughs to himself, cutting off into a gasped moan, rushing air in through his teeth for him to tut at when a slick gush coats his cock all tacky and shiny in return, as if you can hear how utterly done for he is, tone whiny and high pitched all for you. Good girl, you must be enjoying his touch too, right? Every coating of your slick up and down his humping cock is like a promise, a way for you to communicate: it's okay, keep going. He can't be doing anything too bad if your body is enjoying his rocking so much, right? Pressing his tip against your clit, fucking his full fat length against your pretty slit. Pretty little angel cunt, taking his cock so well— "Can't fuckin' stop, 'm sorry—" But he's not. Not really, he'd never apologise for getting you so wet, bucking his hips faster against the toy cunt with every stroke, choked moans just barely escaping him as his eyes squeeze shut in pure pleasure, because you feel so good. Too good it's almost unfair, assaulting you from afar, a mix of lewd thoughts swirling in his otherwise absent mind.
Your pretty face, all contorted. Enjoyment? Horror? What must you be feeling right now? Are you getting off too? Flicking that cute little clit he keeps rubbing precum against, stretching your cunt wide open with sticky fingers as if asking for more? Fuck, he wants so badly to give it to you, to ram his dick so deep in that little hole, stretch your squishy walls into his cock shape, but even now he knows that to be a terrible idea. In spite of how fucking feral he feels right now, frantically humping the air, pressing his cock harsher against your slit in an effort to claim presence. Look, he begs with each stroke. It's me that's making you feel so good.
And he can imagine how messy your bed must be too, sheets thrown off your sweating body in favour of inspecting your cunt, hair all bunched up with the throw back of your head, tossing and turning and squealing every time his balls rock against the toy, fully humped up your slit, only to eagerly drop back down again, over and over again to leave a cute little mess on your sheets. A mess of his own making, dribbling down to you ass to stain you sticky; yeah, that's it. He can see the scene so perfectly, so intricately, right down to the way your hole must be clenching around nothing, seeking his tip to catch and fuck you so full of nice thick cock but he can't. He simply can't stop rutting against your slit for long enough to slide inside, fapping himself silly, mind muddled and eyes glazed over as he really leans into the wet squelch of his every fuck up and down and—
Oh, he didn't realise that he was so close to the edge. Moving the pocket pussy up and down just a little, enough to offer him a minor amount of extra stimulation to the red hot tip of his cock, to spread his precum all over your cunt, but it proves to be too much for his fragile mind. Completely pussy whipped from the imitation, cumming before he even realises what's happening, his body folding in on itself as he squishes the toy against his cum coated tip, making sure to mark every rope of load somewhere against your slit. He can't really see though. Eyes squeezed shut, the grip he has of the toy tightening rhythmically, like a stress ball, while he cakes your slit in sticky seed. He feels winded, honestly.
But still he whispers you name when he feels like he can breathe again, a couple more spurts of cum milked from his cock as he runs the slick mixture up and down his length, wincing at the way it all seems to collect at his balls, all wet and icky as the weight of his actions soon come knocking again. A twist in his tummy, tension in his chest as he ogles the painted white toy.
Well, he can remedy it by making you cum too, right? Already lifting the prettily ruined cunt to his lips, tongue already poking out in preparation to eat you out all night.
It's okay, he'll bring you coffee tomorrow morning to make up for selfishly stealing your bed time.
155 notes · View notes
torialefay · 5 months
Note
Prompt 7 with either Chan or Lee Know please
-🦔
Whatever Makes You Feel Better. Period. ❣️
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〰️ boyfriend!leeknow x menstruating!reader
〰️ synopsis: having a particularly painful period has left you feeling pretty crummy. that is, until your boyfriend gives you some much-needed relief
〰️ reader has period, but otherwise is gender neutral.
〰️ warnings: period sex (hands only for now... part 2 maybe?), minors DNI 🔞
〰️ word count: 1k
• you'd been holding your belly all day, pressing down in hopes that it would provide any ounce of relief. usually your periods were never this debilitating, but this time was different.
• once your boyfriend noticed, he invited you to sit in between his legs so you could lean back into him while he rubbed your stomach and warmed you up.
• minho wasn't usually the "sappy" kind, but when the time called for it, he always took such good care of you.
• as you laid back against him, you couldn't help but let out small moans and sighs of relief as your pain let up, minho gently rubbing all of the cramps and tension away.
• as he kept massaging with one hand, the other snaked around to find your own, holding it tightly while he tried to focus his eyes on the tv ahead.
• "thank you baby," you whispered into his neck as you smiled, relief flooding over your face. no, more than relief. pure bliss. you let out a tiny moan as your head rolled back happily, soaking in your new-found peaceful state.
• minho would have done anything to keep you frozen in time so that he could look at that face all day. he knew it too well. the face he'd always make you give to him, but this was the first time he'd seen it outside of having sex with you. he'd be lying if he said that it wasn't an instant turn on.
• "you don't have to thank me, jagi," he smiled, planting a kiss to your cheek. you felt as he shifted back in his seat a bit, giving room to a slight hard feeling pressed against your back.
• 'really? he'd be into this?' you thought. you weren't opposed to period sex, it's just that you'd never really... thought about it before.
• but you couldn't be for sure that's what this was about. you decided to test your little theory.
• "babe? can you massage a bit lower?" you asked sweetly, waiting in anticipating for him to move down.
• you were patient as he dragged his had from your lower stomach to the area just above your pussy. he pressed softly, kneading his way into the skin and then going deeper.
• you gasped at the way that it almost fully resolved the pain. your breath was taken away as you arched your back and leaned back even further into minho, whispering words of praise to him. "fuck that feels so good," you strained out, hoping he'd go on forever.
• and then you felt it. the bulge behind you growing even harder. you were partly hoping that he didn't know you could feel it, but the other part of you couldn't give less of a fuck.
• you heard his breath hitch before quickening, trying to still himself. he didn't want to get lost in this. not when he thought it would weird you out. but boy was he wrong.
• "you know baby," you started again with a teasing smile, "they say that orgasms help the most with cramps." you began to move your hips the slightest bit as you waited for him to catch your words.
• "i think you could probably use that right now, don't you?" he smirked back. he used one arm to hold tightly around you, locking you into him. the other hand went down just a bit lower, going down to start palming your core over top of your pad. normally, you were team tampon, but bedtime was always a time to take them out. you definitely weren't regretting that decision now.
• you felt all the muscles in your lower half relax as minho started rubbing his hand deeply into you, making sure to go over top of the pad so he didn't make a mess.
• he'd been with you enough to know exactly what you liked... and exactly where your clit was without having to go searching for it. he rubbed tiny circles around where he knew the most sensitive part would be resting underneath.
• it sent tingles up your spine as he hit the right spot repeatedly. you felt yourself grinding into his hand instinctively as he went, giving you more and more delicious friction.
• the harder you both went, the closer you got to your orgasm. you knew it would wash over you quickly.
• minho took the chance to take solid bites along the side of your neck. he was making sure that every single part of you would be distracted by the pain.
• as you felt him push even deeper, circling your clit and working it up until you couldn't take it anymore, he ran his tongue along the outline of a new bruise forming on your neck.
• at that, you lost it. you couldn't help but to let out the loudest moan of your life as your orgasm washed over you with such strong intensity that you weren't even aware you were capable of.
• as you convulsed around him, minho never stopped his hand, making sure he rode out every last chance to help you feel better.
• once you'd finally calmed, you breathed quickly trying to catch your breath, realizing now how dry your mouth had gotten in the process.
• "well," minho chuckled a bit to himself, holding you in a tight bear hug from behind, "did it help?"
• you rolled your eyes as an annoyed smile came over your face. "i think so. maybe a little," you joked, nuzzling back into him.
• he kissed the top of your head before resting his chin on your crown for a moment. it was almost as if you could feel him pondering overhead. after a final few seconds, he cocked his head to the side.
• "if that felt good jagi..." he trailed off for a moment before finding his words. "then maybe we could try a little bit more?" he questioned, almost nervously.
• you couldn't help but smile at how cute he was. you turned your face to look at his own.
• "is this your way of telling me you want to fuck me while i'm on my period, lee minho?" you cocked a brow, taunting him in the most sensual voice you could muster.
• "that depends." he slid his hand back down now to cup around your pussy. not to put you through anything further, but to claim it as his own. exactly where he should be resting himself. "would you let me?"
---------------------------------
✨ if you enjoyed, please consider liking, commenting, and/or re-blogging <3
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ha1taniwh0re · 8 months
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What a conversation
Summary: You are fallen angel and you were done with Charlie's ideas about sinners getting to Heaven.
Warnings:reader is angel, curse, reader is backstabber, reader is with Alastor..
A/N: Im obsessed with song "You didn't know" and thought what if I use this as conversation but at hazbin hotel between main cast and reader.
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The whole hazbin hotel crew was sitting in lobby waiting for extermination.
"I HAVE A PLAN!!"
Charlie jumped from sofa.
"UGHHH STOP IT CHARLIE!!" I yelled at her
I was laying my shoulder on wall annoyed. Everyone looked at me confused, except Alistor who stil had his grin.
"What do you mean?" Charlie asked.
"There is no help anymore if we survive we survived the end" I said.
"No Angel changed he deserves to go to Heaven, he saw the light, (name) checked all the boxes that they said would. Prove a person deserves a second chance, now you turn your back on second glance?" Charlie was annoyed
"It's not as simple as you think not everything is spelled in ink" I said with sad face
"It's not fair, (name)" Charlie said.
"Careful, Charlie, keep a cool head" Vaggie tried to calm her.
"No! Don't you care, (name)? That just because someone is dead, it doesn't mean they can't resolve to change their ways. Turn the page, escape infernal blaze" Charlie said with angry face ready to fight me.
"I'm sure you wish it could be so but there's a lot that you don't know" Alastor said.
I was glad that Alastor took my side but this annoyed me, everyone knows Im fallen angel and that I worked with fucking Adam why can't she just listen.
"What are we even talkin' about? Some crack-whore who fucked up already? He blew shots, like the cocks in his mouth. This discussion is senseless and petty" I yelled i walked to Charlie who was standing in middle of lobby.
"There's no question to be posed. He's unholy, case closed!! Did you forget that Hell is forever?!" I yelled.
"A man only lives once, they'll see us in one month gotta say, Adam can't wait to come down and exterminate me" I yelled.
"If Hell is forever, then Heaven must be a lie!!" Charlie yelled
"Charlie!" I wanted to sya something
"If angels can do whatever, and remain in the sky The rules are shades of gray when you don't do as you say When you make the wretched suffer just to kill them again" Charlie yelled
Vaggie came to comfort her girlfriend who had tears in her eyes now.
"I was told not to trust in angels" Charlie said.
"BY HER?!" I yelled and smiled
Alastor came and tried to calm me.
"Dear don't" he said.
"Ha! She should know" I still had angry smile
"We should go" Vaggie tried to take Charlie to other room
"Don't you act all high and mighty" I said to Vaggie
"Did you ever think your little girlfriend might be a liar" I was now looking at Charlie.
"Don't, (name) please!"Vaggie begged.
What's the fuss? Why hide the fact that you're an angel just like me~?
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blasphemecel · 7 months
Text
Michael Kaiser, Alexis Ness — Wardrobe Malfunction
PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader/Alexis Ness WORD COUNT: 1.6k TYPE: Humor, Clothes Swap NOTE(S): For the purposes of this situation, reader is on the shorter side, and also because I feel like they have the evil of a short person in their soul. Also, same Y/n character as Dog Walking, but you don't need to read that to read this at all!
Despite whatever airs you put on, you like wearing your Bastard München uniform. Mostly because it makes you feel like a big shot professional, which appeals to your sense of self-importance.
You don’t think much of it when you slip on your shirt, but soon enough it becomes apparent to you that something is off. It feels wrong, too loose. And it’s falling down way lower than what you’re used to. You take a few seconds to scrutinize it in between owlish blinks, although the emboldened logo on the front doesn’t aid you in figuring out this mystery.
The easy way to check comes to you soon enough, and you lift your leg to see a traitorous ten in the corner of the shorts instead of your number. A look of horror takes over your face… No… You’re going to get Kaiser’s cooties. He is contaminating you with his germs.
You can already feel them loosening after the movement, and once you put your foot back down, they immediately slide off. With a huff, you grab them from the floor and resolve to strut up to the crux of your dilemma.
When you approach, Kaiser has his back on you, and you immediately notice the big eight, and the wrong name accompanying it. Ness is struggling to fit into the shirt he got, and while his jersey isn’t too ill-fitting on Kaiser, it’s too short, leaving him to fumble with the hem to try and hide the exposed part of his waist.
“It’s just like the pants, I can’t put it on,” Ness cries.
“What do you mean, you can’t put it on?” Kaiser asks before taking a handful of fabric and yanking down with too much force. “See, you can put it on just fine.”
“I can barely move! This is ridiculous-”
Oh, you see how it is now. Are they stupid, though? How have they been talking for so long without pinpointing the problem? You sneak behind Kaiser and reel in your arm before smacking him on the back with the shorts, exerting all of your might.
He lets out a grunt of pain you believe is overdramatized since it can’t have hurt that much, shoulders jerking up. “Whoever did that, I will fucking curb stomp y-” and then, after he whips around and sees you, the threat dies down on his tongue.
“Your dirty pants, sir,” you say in a fake fancy voice before throwing them at his face.
Kaiser flings them away on the bench, narrowing his eyes at you with this weird mix between taunting and adoring. “What the fuck? What the fuck is wrong with you. You’re so cute right now. Let me see.”
With this new positioning, Ness seems to finally realize what happened, too, because he says, “Wait, Kaiser, that’s… m-mine.”
Ignoring him, Kaiser steps around to examine you, and his ugly grin that you can’t stand grows even wider somehow when he reads his name. His name that’s on you because you’re wearing his jersey. “Holy shit.”
“You look like an imp.”
He disregards you with ease, too — you have to admit he’s good at this ‘only hearing what he wants to hear’ stuff — and opens his locker to rummage through it. Ness says, “You’re- you’re wearing Kaiser’s? That’s so unfair.”
“Yeah, and you’re wearing mine. Stand proud. You’re blessed. Millions would kill to be in your place. Everyone’s gonna wear this merch in the future, but you get the real thing.”
“You seriously live in la-la-land, it’s unbelievable.”
You spin your finger in the air, seeming way too pleased with yourself. “Do a little twirl for me, I wanna see how it looks on you all around.”
“I will NOT be doing that,” Ness denies with a huff. He’s so uptight when it comes to anyone who’s not Kaiser. Someone would’ve thought you have gangrene or that you asked him to clean roadkill off the street or something with the way he’s acting.
What Kaiser was searching for in such a rush turns out to have been his phone, you come to find out when he starts taking pictures of you without even a modicum of shame. Multiple of them, if the repetitive pressing he’s doing is indicative of anything.
“Don’t point your phone at me, you sick fuck,” you say, reaching out to cover the lens.
Your efforts go in vain, since he just lifts it up high where you can’t reach and continues. “No way. You’re just way too cute right now. I mean, shit.”
Mocking you aside, there’s this thinly-veiled wonder on his face, and it’s making you want to vomit because of course he’d be the type to get a kick out of stupid shit like this. He’s so fucking lucky, too, it’s pissing you off. Among the three of you, he’s the only one who’s kind of in presentable condition.
Once you come close to swatting the device out of his grasp with a jump, Kaiser presses his palm to your face and shoves you away, keeping you at an arm’s length. Then he diverts his attention to Ness, snapping photos of him now and laughing. “You look stupid as hell.”
“Nooo, Kaiser, don’t! Stop!” Ness says, red-faced, to absolutely no avail.
He even takes a few steps back and does a bad job of covering his stomach with his hands while inching towards the bench, which… he makes a genuine attempt at ducking under. This doesn’t deter Kaiser from continuing his paparazzi session or whatever it is that he’s doing, nor does it conceal Ness from view.
You detach your cheek from Kaiser’s hold and announce, “Don’t worry, Ness, I’m gonna save you from the vile pig,” before you take an unnecessary leap and stick your fingers where the shirt is riding up, tickling his sides.
This startles him enough to let go of his phone (the apparatus of evil), sending it flying. You at least have enough decency to catch it, since you’re not really above letting it shatter either. Then you start scrolling through it with the intention of deleting the photos.
It doesn’t take Kaiser long to recover from your attack, and when he does, he reaches out to you. You assume he’s just trying to get his phone, so you kind of twist around to try and prevent him from doing so, but what he does is much worse.
He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into him before collapsing his stupid ass on the bench (which, at this point, has witnessed many horrors), leaving you to sit on his lap. Then — as if this isn’t offensive enough already — he rests his chin on your shoulder.
“God, you’re such a touch-starved freak, it’s actually appalling.”
“You probably won’t look this good in your life ever again.” You roll your eyes at the stupid comment, and he starts tapping the screen along with you, and he even has the nerve to snicker. “I needed to be opportunistic.”
“Whatever, man.”
The weird battle results in a lot of random apps opening and closing, until eventually the gallery comes up on accident. With a feeling of triumph, you slap his hand away, so he won’t get in your way anymore. There you see the long string of pictures depicting Ness’s progression towards hiding under the bench, which, in your opinion, would make a great slideshow. Next are the images featuring you, where you’re looking up at him and struggling to even graze the phone, swiping your fists at thin air. Wow, you never thought you’d see your Great and Almighty Self from such a… pitiful perspective.
Before you can mope about how vertically challenged you are, however, something else catches your eye, and you burst out laughing, borderline dry-heaving from the acuteness of it. “What-”
Kaiser flusters and snatches his phone out of your fingers before pushing you up and away from him. This, for better or for worse, doesn’t wipe your memory or make you unsee the comically large amount of shirtless mirror selfies he has accumulated.
Despite your stumbling, you don’t fall. “How did you always manage to make the exact same pose and exact same expression in every single one of them?! Seriously. That’s spine-chilling.” You pretend to wipe a tear, even if it’s not that funny.
Kaiser doesn’t respond and turns around to toss his phone back to wherever he got it from. Ness — whose presence you kind of forgot about — deems it safe enough to stand up and reemerge. He asks, “What? What did you see?”
“His shrine of himself,” you say. “By the way, I think he’s a stripper.”
“I’m not a stripper,” argues Kaiser as if there was a possibility Ness might believe you.
For the first time, it’s Ness who is pretending Kaiser didn’t say anything. “Did you delete them?”
“No.”
He slumps, disheartened.
You make your way behind him. “Alright, let’s switch back,” you say, rolling up the material of your jersey. Surprisingly Ness accepts the help without any complaints and just accommodates you with a high raise of his hands.
You’re nearing the biggest problem area — his shoulders — when Kaiser deems it fit to intervene. “Ness, bend over. You’re taking too long.”
He does as told and Kaiser, for some godforsaken, idiotic reason, hooks his fingers inside of the collar. But you don’t see that since you’re trying to focus on your part, so instead you just comment on his willingness, “Slutty.”
“S-Shut up- Oh my god, don’t pull like that, what if it tears?!”
“It’s not going to tear.”
This exchange alarms you somewhat, so you shift your gaze to Kaiser, and what greets you is the sight of him tugging on the collar, trying to hoist it over Ness’s head. Your eye twitches. “If you damage mine, I’m gonna make good use of yours. Naturally what I mean by this is that I’ll use it as toilet paper.”
“It’s not going to tear,” repeats Kaiser, yanking harder. Apparently your collective lack of faith in him is vexing him.
… You hear a rip.
___
Happy valentine's day (I wrote this yesterday i was with my boyfriend today lol. He's american so he thinks valentine's day is a real holiday)
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utilitycaster · 12 days
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You mentioned it briefly a few months ago (but it lives rent free in my head sorry!) that the most popular ship from this campaign has almost only AU fanfics and it's really telling me something about the characters from c3, that there is just really nothing to explore about them.
So here's the thing. I do not think the characters aren't worth exploring! There's been good character work (a lot of which gets ignored, actually, because it's not what many of the people who insist that C3 is their favorite as they slowly turn into a corncob want*; see basically anyone on Twitter about Orym), it's just not central to the plot.
I stand by what I originally said and which was validated at a recent Q&A panel: the cast wasn't told that this was going to be the Moon Plot Campaign (they were just told pulpier and deadlier) and Laura wasn't told that Imogen would be as central a character as she was. So I think we have characters who could have, for the most part, had a character-driven campaign around them, but it became clear relatively early on that this was the Moon Plot campaign and that wouldn't be the focus; and because to get all of his ducks in a row for the Moon Plot Matt had to take a heavier hand with the rails and as a result the party didn't have a ton of bonding time early on because they were always taking NPC missions/being ferried around in an airship with no need for watch conversations, and it's hard to go back and fill in those interactions later, which is why they've sort of fallen out of the habit.
With respect to the ship...the thing is, I genuinely believe it could have been good. The reason I'm not a fan of imo/dna isn't because I think the characters aren't good (well, my feelings on Laudna are documented but I do think Imogen is a great character). It's because, ironically enough, every barrier between them did get removed all too quickly in the service of Cottage Endgame and as a result I think many of the people who wanted that are like "wait...that's it?" Like, the gnarlrock fight fizzled out only for the same conflict to come up briefly with Ishta (swordgate) 70 episodes later and be resolved a day later in-game. When they reunited I was like you know what would have made this good? If Laudna had remained angry in episode 65 and turned Imogen down which Laura 100% expected to happen, because they hadn't talked about this and they were awkwardly trying to deal with unresolved feelings for 30+ episodes and perhaps Laudna actually leaned into Delilah wholeheartedly during that time and realized she had feelings for Imogen after all, while Imogen was simultaneously struggling with that rejection and realizing Laudna was going into a dark place but didn't feel like she could get involved, and they both leaned more (platonically) on other characters and Swordgate was the point where Laudna said "oh no, I'm becoming too much of a problem and I do want Imogen to like me" and the soul anchor felt like a culmination of a deeply felt struggle instead of a quick fix for something that had only inconvenienced her a few times and led to a 20 hour long minor spat at best? If we actually got a fucking slowburn? It would have been great! Turns out if you always go for the instant gratification, it makes for a story without any tension! And now we're watching people who were always clamoring for skipping to the good part realizing that in doing so we skipped all the buildup that makes it the good part. There could have been something to explore. It was not explored.
*I think that there are people who for whatever reason do legitimately prefer Campaign 3 for whatever reasons and are in earnest and this isn't about them. While I don't share their tastes I support them and their feelings; we all have our preferences. This is about the people who are already visibly setting up the groundwork for a dramatic rage quit that will make copious, wildly incorrect use of the term "neoliberal" if the campaign ends with the gods still in place while still insisting this is definitely the best campaign and making absolutely brainless statements about prior campaigns not being as political even though this is the least politically inclined or aware group by a country mile. I think the lesson from the above and from here is that you really cannot have your cake and eat it too.
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freakinator · 27 days
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funny thing about how i view the conflict in todays stream is that i view flame and wemmbu in very separate ways despite them doing essentially the same thing
in flames case:
i view his betrayal as ultimately a tragedy, their history all thrown aside due to a combination of wounded pride and genuine upset
if yall didnt see his chat for this stream it was actually really, really bad, like his chat is genuinely so fucking annoying oh my god and is a really good demonstration of why i think streamers should be mean to their chatters sometimes to so i actually wasnt at all surprised that he was so upset but i thought hed log off instead of acting out like this
he wanted respect but literally ruined the months long work of one of the few ppl that were willing to trust him over something that couldve been resolved if he just waited until september, but at the same time i can kinda understand why he was being so impulsive considering again his chat is Really bad, but at the end of the day that really shouldnt have been something you took out on one of your few allies like???? bruh even mocked zams storytelling as if he didnt do thee same shit as well 😭
honestly one of the reasons i was sad about his betrayal is cause it kinda sounded to me like he was genuinely about to cry at first??? maybe im just making shit up tho and he def stopped sounding like he was gonna cry after blowing up the spacewaffles tower lol
in wemmbus case:
i feel no pity for this man, he wanted conflict wherever he can get it and he got it! i think hes a lot like zam in that he just wants some attention and most importantly something to do but whatever happens to him next is his own fault lmao, i respect his honesty tho like hey he sucks but he knows what hes about at least lol
the fact that he still kept trying to get a commission from zam (or at least guilttripping him about it for lack of a better word) like bro i know you wanted to do a capitalism morality dilemma arc with zam but read the room my guy 😭
maybe hes at least a little mad that zam kept turning him away despite the fact he accepted a commission from mapicc of all ppl but like. bro. theres a reason zam called him a nightmare customer lmao
that being said you can tell hes not used to going this overboard considering he offered to help repair the tree when zam got upset lmao
idk i just thought his evilness was kinda funny, still hope he gets his shit kicked in spectacularly tho!
its funny, despite being acting like the shitty no reading comprehension version of abyss he gives me the exact same feeling of schadenfreude i did for minute back in s5 and i believe part of it is his mockery of lore and weird complicated dismissal of moral conflict particularly regarding zam
by weird complicated dismissal of moral conflict i mean both he and minute both tried to convince zam to see ''their side'' and ''reason'' but coming at it from an angle that completely misunderstands zam and when zam points it out they dismiss it and act like it means nothing because of their ''objective'' view of reality, spoiler alert! its not objective at all and they refuse to understand things from zams perspective cause they think hes just being unreasonable or something
idk overall i think their motivations for doing things are just kinda... shit lol
like ik theres some pretty obvious parallels that can be made with s5 here but the difference between the og players and flamebu aside from the lack of style and drama is that the og players waited several months before they started acting out the way they did and when they did start acting out tgey always made sure evryone who wanted to get involved Actually got involved rather than doing it while everyone was away plus their opps werent their own allies (except maybe pangi depending on how you look at it)
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