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#all she ever did was show up to work and act professional
laurelwinchester · 2 years
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Olicity stans on twitter are still spreading shit about Katie Cassidy. Now they're saying Laurel was supposed to die at the end of season one to have Tommy become the Dark Archer but Katie "got her laywers involved" and had it changed and that Stephen wasn't being paid fairly during season one because she was making them pay her more. I can't with the delusion.
lol wow they sure think katie had a lot of inexplicable and completely random power over at the cw.
anyway yeah that's bullshit. like straight up fanfic level bullshit. easily refuted bullshit. delusional is exactly the right way to put it. kind of pathetic really.
i mean yes i will admit i'm laughing at the whole ''got her lawyers involved'' part because it's so stupid it's funny but let's be serious for a second here.
katie cassidy was treated like garbage for eight years straight. eight fucking years. it was constant. it was relentless. i don't know how she put up with that - and if i'm being honest i also…don't know why - but she did. if she could just wave a magic wand and ''get her lawyers involved'' and end up with whatever she wanted, wouldn't she have used that power to idk get people to stop treating her like shit?
come on now.
it's like they don't even try to sound believable.
for real though imagine being a toxic olicity stan in the year 2023. what kind of tinhat nonsense is that. i know cringe doesn't exist but.....that's pretty cringe.
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toytulini · 2 months
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i feel like the makeup standards are not necessarily going to get Worse, just. stay the Same. "raised by sephora and ulta" christ alive yall act like this shit is new. as if this hasnt been the standard to blast young girls with makeup ads and shit via magazine and tv and imposed beauty standards anyway. the only real difference is like, idk, accessibility of tutorials for how to apply it well
#toy txt post#spoken as. a no makeup bitch#altho i have also been accused by a terf of wearing a pound if makeup for wearing. visible lipstick in a selfie. and that was It#the actual Beauty Standard has largely stayed the exact fucking same of like making your skin texture as fake as possible#that was the standard back then too but it was harder to achieve /know how to do it cos there werent tutorials the same way now#also yes sephora and ulta are evil and all that but like the same amount theyve always been.#yall really acting like these imposed beauty standards being exposed to children is like a new unique tiktom thing thats never happened#before. and yall blaming instagram are no fuckin better. this has been happening The Entire God Damn Time#also theres something rubbing me about the way this is getting talked about. 'she did all thos other arbitrary bullshit except this#One Thing! the discrimination against this one thing is awful!#and like. it is. but i feel like we could address that while also maybe stepping back a tiny bit further and questioning these arbitrary#standards of professionalism too while we're at it#why does she have to have a blazer either? why do the earrings have to be understated#why do the colors have ti be bland and boring? why does he hair have to be a natural color and gender conforming ?#etc etc etc#like if we're accepting all that other shit the ppl upset about this could acknowledge she might experience similar discrimination for say#very obvious goth or punk-y makeup or anything a little too far outside the bounds of the acceptable beauty standard#everyone is pissed about 'eyeliner sharp enough to kill a man' but theyd be saying nothing if she was discriminated for fuckin#big wings and black lipstick bc well thats Obviously not professional standard makeup. okay?#if we change how we look at professional standards of dress and makeup as a whole to include Fucking Freak Bitches#then it would be a lot easier to include No Makeup in there as welllllll#idk#im a no makeup bitch with blue hair whos only ever worked in warehouses so they didnt give too much of a shit about my lack of makeup#or blue hair as long as i didnt show up in like flip flops which is a Reasonable dress code bc its got an actual fucking reason#(safety so you dont lose your goddamn toes to a box or a grate or some shit) vs it makes the office corpo bros sad#anyway idk if you have the privilege to get away with it i think you should dress weirder in the office to get them used to weirder dress#maybe instead of Suddenly going No Makeup sort of slowly lessen the amount so its not a Sudden change or smth#again: if you have the privilege and job security to get away with it#also also also: easier to get away with if you were to say. mask. js. they cant get mad at schrodingers lack of lipstick
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simpee9000 · 2 months
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Not Just Friends - 6 -
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M.List : Prologue : Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part 5 : 5.5k words
Childhood best friends turned into something more, at least with the label. Katsuki Bakugo, a fast-rising hero and fast-learning guy who is ever so slow in getting attached to and loving someone. Even three long years into a relationship, and your friends even forget you're even dating. Nothing happening, spare a few kisses.. like 3 kisses, during high school. Graduated and living together, and you guys have done absolutely nothing to further the relationship. Are you sure you're not just friends? Also not edited!! CW: Smut, brief domestic violence discussion, virginity loss, aggressive flirting from creeps, gore with pro hero stuff (lmk if i missed any) Applies to all chapters regardless of it is in said chapter.
"Photos have been released, of the two of you," you shared a look with Katsuki from across the table, "Together. At the camping resort you went to this previous weekend."
Katsuki's PR manager was in front of you. Arms placed on the table as she clasped her hands together. Face stern and hair slicked back into a ponytail. The definition of professional. The opposite of what you looked and felt right now. You've been sweating your ass off since you got told to come in.
"Are you sure they know it was us?" Katsuki fixed his posture, sitting up straight for the answer to his question. The two of you haven't necessarily came forward with your relationship, but you haven't been hiding it. Still, you preferred to not be public. Mainly to protect your work, everyone would discredit you if they knew you had personal ties to the number two pro hero that led beyond friendship. But also because you knew the danger, you were targeted enough as his best friend.
"Yes," she said bluntly.
"Maybe they didn't see me?" you voiced your hope aloud.
"Look, they know it was the both of you," she sighed, "We need to focus on how to fix this. It needs to be address before it gets worse, and it will get worse, so I suggest acting now."
"Can I see the fucking pictures?" Katsuki ordered, sick and tired of not knowing entirely what's going on.
She clicked away at her keyboard, turning her laptop to face you two. "This was posted by a couple that were there," she showed the photo Katsuki took with the couple that almost caught you at the pond. "And this," she clicked to a photo that showed the lake, "was posted as well. You can clearly see Chargebolt, Red Riot, and Cellophane. And in the background it is also easy to see the two of you being," she coughed, "intimate. They've been able to connect the dots that it was you that he was kissing," she looked at you, "With your connection with their class."
Your stomach dropped. Words just fell from your brain. You were used to the press but not for these reasons. Mainly just for your work, or how you made all number one, two and three top heros support gear and costumes.
"So what the fuck should we do?" Katsuki crossed his arms, face scrunched in thought.
"We need you to make a statement," she paused, prepared for Katsuki to snap. He hated making statements. When all he did was nod, she continued, "We need to do this quick before rumors catch wind." Both you and her were glad that he wasn't being difficult about this.
"What rumors can even be made?" you were curious how bad the drawback could be, trying to see if you could lessen the stress for you and Katsuki.
She looked at you, an apology on her face already, "It is already being said that you are using him to get to Deku, wanting to get the best pro heroes under you." You physically winced. "It is also being said you are cheating on Deku with Dynamight."
Katsuki scoffed, rooling his his eyes as he threw his hands up, "So what the fuck do I say? This is bullshit."
"I've arranged a interview for tonight, they'll ask about it there and you will give as much truth as you want. Talk about how long you've dated and the bond you two have, you need a united front," She explained, "Deku needs to also make a statement that you have not had any romantic relations," she turned to you.
"Of course, I'll call him now," you stood up from your chair, grabbing your phone. Knowing that he was terrible with emails and likely wouldn't notice anything happened until it was too late for the press. Too focus on crime and other heroic things.
"Good, tell him to do it as soon as possible," she instructed.
You squeezed Katsuki's shoulder on your way out, leaving him to discuss about what to talk about in the interview.
Dialing Izuku's number the second you closed the door, walking towards the stairway so you could walk off the stress as you made your way to Katsuki's office, the next floor up.
He answered when you opened the door to the stairway, "Whatssup?"
"I need a favor," you immediately started with.
"What's wrong," he asked concerned. You could hear the wind blowing through his phone, he was likely jumping his way back his office.
"Could you do an interview tonight or something?" you walked up the stairs while talking to him, letting your body move on autopilot and lead the way to Katsuki's office.
"For what?"
"Katsuki's and my relationship got leaked, picture proof and everything," you confessed, "Now there's rumors that I'm cheating on you or some shit." You ran the hand that wasn't holding the phone through your hair. Before dropping it to open the stairway door, keeping your head down as you walked through the office.
"So I need to clear the air?" he concluded, you could hear him land on a building, taking a break from jumping.
"Yes, please," you sighed, "Just talk about how we're best friends. I don't think you have to do an interview, I think a social post might help, ask your manager."
"Of course, I'm happy to help," he smiled, "How are you and Kacchan doing?"
"I'm a little rattled, I didn't think this would happen," you opened the door to Katsuki's office, briefly waving to his manager. "I don't know how Katsuki is doing, he's still with his PR manager."
Izuku laughed nervously, "He's going to kill me."
"It's not your fault," you reassured, "he knows how crazy the internet is." You stood in front of the window, it was a floor to ceiling window that captured the view of the city perfectly. "Uraraka won't be mad right?" you asked, you've never been close to her but you knew her and Z were together.
"No, she'll understand," Izuku confirmed.
"Good, I would of felt horrible," the weight on your shoulders was slowly lifting.
"Well, I should talk to my manager about what to do," Izuku said his goodbyes before he hung up.
It was only Tuesday and your week was already shit. Barely got through lunch before his manager told you to meet with PR. The city was still buzzing with life, unbothered by how much yours was changing. It felt weird, to know each of the small humans from this distant, had their own life and motivation.
"Hey."
You jumped from your spot near the window, "Asshat," you said clutching your heart.
"How are you doing?" Katsuki stepped into the office, letting the door fall shut as he walked to stand beside you.
"I've been better, you?" you looked at him, his face was still scrunched with thought.
"I'm annoyed," he said plainly, "The one fucking time we kiss in public and it's everywhere."
He crossed his arms, his elbow slightly bumping you from where he stood. You hummed your agreement, "When's your interview?" The both of you were looking out the window, trying to puzzle together how to avoid the drawback.
"Right after work, with fucking Heroes' Gossip," he grumbled.
"I'm sorry," you apologized, knowing how much he hated every part of this.
"Was gonna happen eventually," he sighed, "Is that nerd gonna help?"
You nodded, "Yeah, he might make a social media post or something, I told him to listen to his manager."
"Good," he said plainly, letting the conversation end.
Everything was going to change now, it'd be impossible to go back to normal now. With the grief of your old life already setting in, you rested your head on his shoulder. He'd be the one stable thing, even if it got rocky.
---
You had the interview pulled up on the TV, waiting for Heroes' Gossip to introduce him. They've been teasing a surprise guest the entire show, waiting until the last few minutes to bring him on. You've been dealing with the show for the past 40 minutes with no sign of him. It was nice to watch for once though, but it felt like you were intruding on some of the topics. They brought up Mirko's lovers and then talked about spotting Best Jeanist in and out of the hospital, automatically assuming he had a horrible disease. It made you feel gross to watch.
Wondering into the kitchen you grabbed a glass of wine, wanting something to help make the show a little less painful.
When you sat back down they finally announced for Katsuki to come on. Having him grumpily stomp on set until he sat down near the obnoxious interviewer.
"So, Dynamight," she addressed him head on, "There's been some photo's leaked of you and the tech genius," she announced your name to the world. You took a long sip, trying to shake the unease feeling for being known as someone who was with Dynamight rather than a tech genius. The interviewer displayed the pictures his PR manager showed you earlier on screen, "Is this you and her?"
"Yeah," he answered flatly.
"So you and her were making out at this lake, correct?" She pushed, surprised she got this far already.
"Yeah, what about it?" you could see that he was close to snapping, face furrowed entirely as his arms were crossed.
"Despite the claims of her and pro hero Deku being together?" the interviewer smiled, glad to see she was riling him up.
He rolled her eyes, "As if she'd date him."
"Is she not?"
"No, I've been dating her for three god damn years," he confessed to the public.
The interviewer blinked in surprise, quickly getting back onto the questions, "You're not concerned they are seeing each other behind your back?"
"I've known them both since I was five, they aren't like that," he answered simply.
"That also means that they have known each other that long, you're not worried about their connection?" she pushed for more, irritated that Katsuki wasn't lashing out like normal.
"Lemme prove it to you dumbasses," you cringed at his swearing, it wasn't good press for him to swear during interviews. He was grabbing his phone out of his pocket, quickly pressing buttons before he put the phone on speaker, letting everyone listen to it ring.
"Hey," Izuku's bubbly voice echoed through the mic.
"Are you fucking with my girlfriend?" Katsuki was straight to the point, likely not having warned Izuku of his plan before hand.
"No! Why would i do that?! You know that it is just the press going on right? Anything for a story-" before he could ramble on anymore, Katsuki hung up on him.
"See?"
"Well that doesn't prove much," the interviewer was at a lost for words at this point.
Knowing that Katsuki had a handle on this, you walked back to the kitchen, looking for something to eat. All the premade dinners were eaten already so you'd have to cook something from scratch. The voices from the TV faded from your mind as your rattled through the ingredients to use. Deciding on a fried rice. You pulled out the vegetables and placed them to the side as you set the rice to cook.
Your phone buzz and you answered without a thought, "Sup?"
"You fucking Deku?" you laughed at Katsuki's angry voice coming through your speaker. "Stop laughing dumbass."
"Sorry, I just saw you call him for the same thing. No, I am not. I'll say that on a truth quirk as well," you said absentmindedly cutting up the vegetables.
"Great! We'll have you come in soon to do just that," you heard the interviewer cheer though Katsuki's side of the phone.
Katsuki grumbled, "I'm fucking out of here." You could only assume he left the set, hearing him stomp off. "Hey dumbass," his voice was near the mic, clear he turned the call off speaker as his voice was quieter and less aggressive.
"Yeah?"
"That was stupid, my PR agent is going to scream at you."
"Why?"
"Going under a truth quirk on TV is dangerous, you know so much confidental shit," he explained.
"Oh fuck," you realized how much you could spill if someone asked about too much. You felt as if the genius quirk you had wasn't much help.
"I'll be home soon," he skipped past it, saving the conversation for when he could see you.
"Okay," you nodded despite him not being able to see you, "I'm making some fried rice by the way."
"Thanks, see ya."
"Bye."
You put your phone back down, grabbing the now cooked rice and mixing it with the vegetables in a pan. You looked over the mess of the kitchen. You dirtied an extra pan for eggs last second, knowing Katsuki loved the extra protein. Walking back to the living room, you grabbed the wine glass and filed it some more in the kitchen to drink as you mixed the rice.
The rice was getting to a good mixture, just needing to heat for a little longer, you grabbed the eggs and dumped them in with the rest of the rice and vegetable, setting the pan aside on the stove.
You heard the door knob slightly move, as if Katsuki was having issues with the key. You glanced at the time, he wouldn't be over for another ten or so minutes. Fear gripped at your chest. You moved the finished pan of rice to the corner of the stove, putting the empty pan on the heat.
Before you could think of anything else to do, you heard metal fall to the ground. Turning around quickly you saw the doorknob melting off with the remains of it on the floor.
Looking towards the figure in the doorway you saw a girl, around your age. Maybe a couple years older. She looked insane, it sent a chill up your spine at how similar her glare was to Toga's. Her eyes were a bright red, her hair a darker shade as she wore torn up clothes, burn holes all throughout. As if she just got out of a fight.
"The fuck are you doing?" you forced yourself to question.
"So you're the bitch Katsuki is dating?" she ignored your question.
"How did you get up here?" you knew that the apartment probably wasn't the most secure, but you and Katsuki never had time to move. Still, security was set in place. Blood dotted her outfit as well, the smell of burnt flesh radiating off her.
She ignored you again, stepping closer. "You know, Katsuki's going to love me right? Once your out of the picture."
You couldn't help the slight laugh that slipped from your lips. Maybe Katsuki's cocky energy affected you more than you thought.
Her eyes glowed, "That funny to you?"
She was about arms length away at this point, you reached your arm slowly behind you, grabbing onto the handle of the pan. "Kinda," you shrugged.
"Such a cunt," the girl all but screeched, eyes glowing red. From the damage on the doorknob it was clear she had some sort of heat vision. Before she could burn hole through you, you picked up the pan and swung at her. Burning the side of her face and causing her to stumble. Keeping yourself aware of her eyes, you reeled the pan back and hit her straight on, letting the edge of the pan fall into her eyes.
She quickly started to grab at you, cornering you into the stove, blinded by your hits but still intent on hurting you. Digging her nails into your arm. Scratching as she managed to grab ahold of your hand during her flailing around, forcing it down onto the hot stove and burning you.
Filled with a new rush of adrenalin, you grabbed onto her hair with your free hand, yanking her off your hand and pushing her face into the stove. You felt horrible as she screamed, your and her burnt flesh tainting the air with a foul smell. Ruining the stove top in the process. You scrambled away from her after holding her down for a moment, grabbing the knife you used the the vegetables only 20 minutes ago. Almost slipping due to the wine that was spilt from her flailing around the stove.
You stole a glance at the clock, still five more minutes till Katsuki was home. All you had to do was not die in those five minutes.
The girl was standing back up when you looked back at her. Face half burnt as she held a crazed look in her eyes.
"That knife won't do anything," she pushed, "I've done my research, you hardly have a quirk. Another reason you aren't worthy of him."
You weren't interested in talking to her, you just waiting for her next move. "You know, we could end this here. Just stop fighting and Katsuki will talk to you," you suggested, throwing the offer out to distract her.
"With you in the picture, he won't talk to me," she said frustratedly. Her eyes lighting up again, having recovered from the hit to them.
She aimed for your stomach, you move to the side and crouched, kicking at her locked knees, cringing at the snap of it. The hit on your stomach burned through a lot, the pain causing you to hold a hand on yourself. While you were trained to survive, you couldn't handle it. The blood, the pain, the guilt that already worked its way into your bones. She fell down with a yelp. Pulling you with her, before she could get her other hand on you, you stabbed one hand through a cabinet. You stood up as straight as possible, pressing your slipper covered foot onto her head, forcing her to face the cabinet and away from you. Placing your other foot onto her free hand so she couldn't grab at you.
You wheezed, clutching both hands at your side now, pain getting to you. The girl was crying now, "My face! He won't love me if I look deformed." Her heat vision flickered on and off, burning a hole through the bottom cabinet. Slowly destroying your home with Katsuki.
"Shut up," you hissed, stepping on her hand harder.
The injury was getting to you, it was mostly cauterized but her heat vision burned a good depth into your side.
Katsuki kicked the door fully open, snapping his head to look at you. You most of looked crazy. Wearing his shirt from high school, barely visible shorts, fuzzy Deku themed slippers and standing above a very injured girl while bleeding from the wound of your side.
He stepped towards you, lifting you off the girl and making you sit on the floor next to the door. "Cops were already called by the way," he answered your question before you thought of it. "They'll be up here soon." He walked back to the girl who was panting now, going into shock from the pain, something you think you shared with her. He cuffed her quickly, making her quirk shut off. You couldn't be more thankful that he wore his hero outfit home.
With the girl contained, he walked back to you, "Is it just your side?"
You nodded your head aggressively, in too much pain to form words. He lifted the side of your shirt, wincing before putting it back down. Moving to pick you up and carry you.
"I need to get you to the hospital," he claim.
"What about that girl?" you forced out, sucking in a deep breath after. Eyes getting fuzzy as you looked at him.
"She tired herself out," he confirmed, the girl passed out and you felt like doing the same. Eyes blinking without any of your control.
"Kats?"
"What?"
"It hurts," you were only speaking to stay awake, not wanting to scare him anymore then you knew he was.
"You'll be okay, I promise," his voice waivered as he moved through the hallways, you didn't even know where you were at this point. The background slowly turning into black until you blinked the rest of the image away.
---
Everything was too bright, too loud, too stale when you woke up. You couldn't even open your eyes but you were overwhelmed. You're mouth lacked any taste besides meticalic. Muffled voices came from somewhere in front of you, a room away likely. You braced yourself heavily before opening your eyes. Seeing Katsuki in a chair pulled up to your bedside, book in his left hand as his right hand held onto yours. Flipping a page by placing the book into his lap and using his left to flip it. Never once letting go.
The light blurred everything but him, you could only put together the fact that you were in the hospital. He was wearing his glasses, the ones he hardly wore unless he was stress. It was always harder for him to read when stressed, to lessen the strain, he wore the glasses.
"Bright," is what you decided to croak out, voice rough from sleep and likely screaming from the events. Everything was blurred already.
His basically jumped out of skin at the sound of your voice, letting the book fall from his lap as he stood up straight. Looking over you.
"Lights off," is what you groaned next, unable to keep your eyes open in the blare of it for long.
"Fuck sorry," he rushed to turn the light off before returning to your side. "How are you?"
You only looked around now, happy to be without the strain of the light. Your right hand was covered in bandages, from where the girl slammed it against the stove. With how bad it hurt, you worried for her face. Your left side was also heavily wrapped. She burned entirely through you, you remember how burned your walls were before you passed out. Multiple cabinets having holes in them. "Our home is all messed up," you focused on.
Katsuki let out a laugh, it was his laugh that showed you were being ridiculous, when you looked back up at him with a frown he returned it, "You can't be serious?"
"I am," you pouted, looking down at your hands, "She fucked it all up."
"Yeah and you put a dent in her for it," he followed.
"She put a dent in me too," you changed you focus to your stomach. Acknowledging the hole in your side
He gripped tighter onto the railing at the top of your hospital bed. "I had our stuff moved out," he spoke, saying he won't let that happened again without any words.
"Where will we live?" you looked back up at him.
"I bought it on a whim, the first day you were out," he looked apologetic, "I think you'll like it. Safer than that shithole."
You grabbed onto his hand, "Okay, anywhere is home with you."
"The drugs makin' ya loopy?" he smirk down at you, pointing fun at your cheesy line but holding onto your hand nonetheless, gripping on tighter.
"Maybe," you blushed, looking away for moment to think over the feeling. Drugs were definitely dampening the pain right now.
"How are you though? Took quite a hit," he looked at your stomach as well. It reminded you on how he first saw it, likely seeing straight through you. It's probably why he rushed you to the hospital right after.
"Hurts," you mumbled, not looking down but staring at him instead. Wanting your focus off the pain. Looking over how soft the glasses made him look. It was something you always wanted to admire but rarely got to. His face looked softer in the barely light room, just having the glow of the hallway lights shine in.
"Figures, you put up a fight."
"I almost died," you clarified.
"But you didn't," he was trying to focus on the positives, for both you and himself.
You recalled him saying the first day you were out earlier, "How long was I out?"
"Four days," he answered, "Not too long, you were just tired."
You hummed, "When can we go home?"
"I'd have to call the doctor in."
You nodded in permission for him to do so, letting him go alert them. With the quality of the room, you figured that he had you in a hero hospital.
The doctor walked in and asked you to stay an extra day, claiming a healing quirk will be able to help you before you left tomorrow. You reluctantly agreed, mainly from Katsuki cutting in and agreeing for you. It was obvious he felt guilt. From the way he held himself and the way he spoke.
When the doctor left, the two of you sat in silence. Soaking in each others presences.
"Is she okay?" you asked.
"Who?"
"Crazy bitch," you labeled her as.
He looked at you confused, "Yeah, in jail."
"So I didn't hurt her badly?" you were trying to relive some of the guilt.
"No, you did. Put a hole into her hand and burned her face," he confirmed, "Something you did to protect yourself."
"Then why do I feel bad?"
He sighed, grabbing at your hand again and looking you in your eyes, "Cause you always do, you'll probably feel guilty for a while. But trust me, you gave that bitch what she deserved and I'm so fuckin' glad you did."
"How's the press?" you switched topics. Not even remotely proud of yourself for burning a girl's face.
"Everything's settled, police still need your report though," he told you softly.
"Okay," you took in a deep breath, flinching at the pain going up your side. Ignoring Katsuki eyes looking at you in worry. Trying to patch your guilt away.
---
You peered through the apartment door after Katsuki unlocked it and walked through. Taking in the view of the apartment, a clear upgrade from the last. After kicking off your shoes you noticed the empty space to the right, a perfect spot for a living room. Windows from floor to ceiling and a sliding door to excess the balcony, with just enough space for a long wrap around couch to loop around. Snug in its own cube. The left side was a nicely sized kitchen with a dining table near the middle.
The security on the way up was worth the apartment, it was beautiful. It was a good sized apartment overall, perfect for you. There's a total of three bedrooms and three baths. You wondered for a moment about where Katsuki would choose his bedroom. Shoto also lived in this apartment complex, so you knew it was safe. The thought of Shoto's scar hurt your soul, he hated that scare and you gave a random girl the same if not worse.
"We need to buy new furniture for the living room," Katsuki cut into your thoughts.
"Why?" you turned to him confused, you didn't have a wrap around couch but he didn't know your ideas.
He coughed, knowing you hated the topic already, " Other one is burnt."
"Oh," you said sadly.
"I also can't get shit here until Tuesday. Takes a week for em," he barreled through the bad news, "You can look up a couch and I'll buy it."
"I already know the one I want," you looked back at the space, "I saw it Monday online, we can go check the stores to see if it's in stock? If not we can look."
"I don't think you should be doing all that walkin'," he furrowed his face in distaste.
"Too bad," you pushed past your injury, walking back outside the apartment after slipping your shoes on, "We have nowhere to sleep, we can get a couch and have a movie night. Wait, do we need a new TV?"
"Yeah, other one was shit anyway," he put his shoes on and followed you out reluctantly.
---
You pushed past all press, keeping your head down as you walked in front of Katsuki, his arms around you to keep from touching you. It was horrible, worse than it ever was. After your police statement was in, the press went crazy. Needing every detail possible. The entire furniture store had to shut down while you shopped, it made you thankful for Katsuki's job for once. He saved the owners before so they easily shut down for him. Finding your perfect couch was easy enough, wasn't the exact one you saw online but it was even better. While you found the couch, Katsuki got the TV, both set to be delivered to your apartment during the next three hours.
So you and Katsuki got lunch and stopped by his agency in the mean time, him needing to grab some paper work to go over the next few days. Kirishima's bright smile welcoming you the second you walked upstairs.
"Hey!" he greeted, arms stretched out for you. Hugging you gently. "How are you?" he held you back by your shoulders as he looked over you.
"Alright," you answered watching Katsuki walk into his office, "I hurt like a bitch though."
Kirishima laughed warmly, "No doubt, sorry that happened. What you did was super manly though."
You cringed, "I thought you left the manly thing in high school."
"I say it on rare occasions," he smiled down at you.
"Say what?" Katsuki asked as he closed his office behind him, joining you again.
"Manly," you answered, leaning into his space, feeling safe. He hummed in reply, smiling down at you briefly before looking back at Kirishima, crossing him arms.
"You got my patrols cover till Tuesday right?" Katsuki asked.
"Yeah, Denki, Sero, Mina, me and even Midoriya are all taking a chunk of your hours," Kirishima smiled brightly.
"Till Thursday?" you looked up confused, Katsuki hated time off.
Katsuki refused to look at you. LIstening as Kirishima talked, "You need a break and we got it covered, don't worry."
He rolled his eyes, "Send me every detail that happens, I'll be available if absolutely needed."
"Got it," Kirishima gave a toothy grin. Likely happy that he convince Katsuki to take time off in general. You weren't surprised at him being at the hospital, but taking a week off was unknown for him. Yet he seemed perfectly okay with it.
---
Once home, you noticed the fridge was fully stocked. Katsuki's premade meals filling the shelfs. Glad to see no fried rice. Fruit also filling the shelfs.
It was the first thing you went for when you got home, ignoring the wrapped up couch and TV and going for the food. Afterall, Katsuki would set up the TV fully. Needing to wall mount it.
With a premade meal in your hands, warm and ready to eat, you stood at the counter and watched him work.
"So I remember saying I'd do an interview with a truth quirk," you brought up after a while, Katsuki humming to continue from where we set up the TV. "How do I do that without giving up information?"
"Aizawa is probably willing to help, he'll monitor you and turn off the truth quirk person if they ask something sensitive. Still don't know why you said that," he answered, cursing at the TV when it didn't hook into the slot on the wall mount easily.
"Just want to clear my name," you took another bite of food as you watched him grin in victory at the TV being attached to the wall now. Him plugging it in and starting to log into all the streaming apps and everything.
You joined him after finishing your food, pushing a part of the couch into the spot you wanted. "The fuck are you doin?" he spun his head towards you at the sound of the couch moving. "I'll do it, just fuckin' point where to go."
After huffing at him, you stood in front of the TV, facing the couch and leading him to place each section of the couch. Cutting off the wrapping afterwards and sitting in front of the TV.
"What are we watching?" he called towards you, you were digging through the little amount of stuff that Katsuki pack for you two. It was clothes and blankets, all you'd need until Tuesday. It was already Saturday as well.
You plopped down a big blanket for you to share and sunk into the couch, "I don't know," you mumbled. Watching as he clicked onto your favorite movie right after.
"Hate when you say that," he grumbled.
"Yeah sure," you leaned into his side, wanting to be as close as possible to him. The scare of the break in still getting to you. He messed with his hand for a moment before laying his arm over your shoulders, pushing you closer to him. It was something both of you clearly needed. Just the warmth of the other.
-Next Part-
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rhaenyra-storms · 3 months
Note
Aegon x healer!reader where reader is affectionate yet professional? She's taking care of him like a child and Aegon, being a meow meow with mommy issues has fallen hard.
oh, we all know aegon has deep mommy issues, so this is definitely something i can imagine happening heheh
pairing: aegon targaryen x f!reader warnings: aegon is falling hard AND FAST, mommy issues, description of an open wound, blood, he just wants to be cared for, aegon could be a warning (but he's soft in this), alcohol addiction words: 1.5k
masterlist
Aegon didn't want to fall in love with you. It was really more of an accident in his eyes. Growing up with his mother's influence and going through a phase of defying her and then obeying her, he could maybe trace his interest in you back to that.
He always wanted to impress his mother like Aemond did. He wasn't as gentle as Helaena or as strong as Aemond.
Maybe he just wanted someone to care for him and just him. His mother had always been bouncing between the realm, his father and his siblings. All those expectations set upon him from a young age had made him turn to alcohol and it was the only thing strong enough to numb his thoughts in a sufficient way.
Until you came along.
You were meant to check in on him, making sure the king was healthy and well. Most of his servants didn't really engage in friendly conversation with him, so he didn't expect you to be any different.
It was a rainy day when you had come in to check out a bruise on his skin that didn't seem to disappear for weeks. It wasn't anything serious, based on your knowledge, but you took your time that day and it was just you and the King in the room. Aegon had been in a rather bad mood the entire time you had been here, but the silence was uncomfortable as only the storm could be heard raging outside.
"Did you plan on going outside today, your grace?” You asked him as you stirred the ointment you had prepared a few minutes ago.
Aegon never liked to talk and he loved to avert his gaze from you all the time.
On the few occasions you had met his brother, Prince Aemond, you could tell that this was a key difference between them. You often felt like the younger prince's eye never left you, burning holes into your back even when you didn't look at him.
Your presence seemed to annoy him. So you didn't really expect him to answer at all, but at least you would have tried to make a bit of friendly conversation.
"Not really. We're having a council meeting later on."
Aegon's voice was more quiet than usual, his gaze distant as he watched the rain pour in buckets outside.
You tried to hide the surprise you were feeling. This was the most words Aegon had ever spoken to you, but you didn't want to ruin the moment by telling him that. "I hope it goes well, your grace," you replied instead, moving closer to the King.
"Would you mind showing me the bruise again?"
Aegon complied without another word, stretching out his arm and pulling his sleeve up.
He noticed how gentle you were when you applied the ointment to his skin and for a short moment, he even took a closer look at you. The King had met a few healers throughout his life, but none of them had been as pretty as you were.
She is not yours to desire.
His mother's voice echoed in his head. When he was younger, Aegon took whatever he wanted, but he felt too exhausted for that now. While the wine was able to drown out his worries, he always felt like catastrophe was right around the corner. They were heading towards a war and in the private confines of his chambers, he didn't have the energy to act confident anymore.
He didn't even thank you when you were done with your work. You were just dismissed, as usual, but you couldn't help feeling a little satisfied that you had coaxed a few words out of the King at least.
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Most of your meetings with the King followed the same pattern. However, he did let a few more words slip each time.
Once, you even managed to make him laugh with a simple joke of yours.
You had heard Aegon laugh before. It was always a loud and menacing one, but that one time you had joked with him, his laugh was gentle and almost too quiet to be heard.
It had been two weeks since your last visit to the King and there wasn't any scheduled meeting ahead of you. You had done your routine checks the last time you had seen him and unless he hurt himself badly, you wouldn't be called upon.
The sun had already disappeared behind the trees of the King's Wood as you prepared to call it a day for now. You were on your way back to the castle gates, having finished a visit to the King's brother, when a Knight of the Kingsguard caught up with you in the hallway.
"I am sorry to disturb you, m'lady, but the King has hurt himself and needs your assistance."
There wasn't any room for you to argue here. You were tired and wanted to go home for the day, but if the King was in need of your help, you weren't in a position to deny it. You didn't even find yourself wanting to. What had Aegon gotten into this time?
His guard didn't follow you inside the room. Instead, he closed the heavy doors behind you and for a moment, you couldn't even spot Aegon in the room.
However, you could hear quiet groans from behind the blinds opposite of you. "Your grace?"
Aegon tumbled towards you eventually, clutching his left hand with his right one. "I need your help."
His pale skin was stained with blood. The red liquid dropped onto the floor and your breath caught in your throat. You placed your pack of supplies down, grabbing the first towel you could find in it and rushed over to him.
Aegon's face had turned red, his eyes fixated on you as you gently manoeuvred him over to a chair, wrapping the towel around his injured hand.
"What happened, your grace?" You asked, pressing the fabric against the wounds.
"I cut myself." His right hand wasn't injured, but it was covered in blood. He pointed to the other side of the room where glass shards were scattered over the floor and more bloodstains could be seen around them.
"I need to clean the wound first. Stay here," you mumbled quickly and rushed over to retrieve a clean wipe before soaking it with alcohol. You didn't want to risk the king getting an infection and you definitely had to talk to the maester to keep a close eye on him from now on. If he was showing the slightest signs of a fever, you should be called immediately.
Aegon's head hurt, but it didn't stop him from staring at you. The worried expression in your eyes... he was rarely able to see it aimed at him. Everyone always looked at him greedily or with hatred glowing in their eyes. He wasn't loveable and everyone around him made sure to tell him that.
But when you cleaned and bandaged his wounds, talking softly to him while doing so, and looking like you cared, he for once felt like someone could genuinely like him. It didn't have to be love, of course, but he felt like he was experiencing it in some way.
You were smart and beautiful and you cared enough for Aegon to let his guard down. Enjoy your beautiful eyes and bathe in the feeling of genuinely being cared for.
It was happening fast. Too fast.
But all he had ever known were the cold stares from his mother, his brother and especially his wife and sister.
"You need to be more careful, A-"
Your breath caught in your throat. "I am sorry, your grace, I-"
Aegon lifted his healthy hand for a moment. "Don't worry about it. I prefer Aegon anyway."
Had he ever allowed a servant to call him by his name? No. Did it feel right to have you do it when you always gave him those sweet smiles? Definitely. "It's just Aegon," he clarified.
Your eyes visibly widened at the correction. It was surprising that the King would allow you to call him by his first name, but you wouldn't complain. He looked more content after he offered it to you and that expression looked good on him.
"Of course. Just Aegon," you smiled, closing the bandage around his hand once and for all. You then filled a cup with water, handing it to the King and your patient. "Drink. It would be best for you to rest and not put too much pressure on your left hand."
While Aegon always loved to defy whatever someone told him to do, he was happy to oblige this time. He took the cup from you and downed it in one go, placing it back down on the table afterwards.
"Thank you. For..."
When had he ever genuinely thanked someone in the last few years?
"For helping me."
You let out a small laugh, looking at the man in front of you. "There is no need to thank me, Aegon. It's my profession after all. Helping you and looking after you."
Your voice was so sweet and soft, it sounded like music to Aegon's ears. He wanted to hear it play more often from now on.
He couldn't keep cutting himself on purpose to make you care for him, but he could invite you to more joyful meetings.
Because it felt good to actually be cared for. Especially by someone as beautiful as you.
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harrysonlylover · 1 month
Text
Red Line*
Summary: Agent Harry doesn’t hold back when he sees his girl flirting with another agent.
Trope: Agent! Harry
Warnings: Mean & dom Harry, oral, hair pulling, choking.
WC: 4k
Previous oneshot
A/n: The timeline of this oneshot is before At All Costs.
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Harry has been acting weird lately.
Y/n wants to believe that it’s a coincidence, or that he’s just delighting in his position as a superior, but she knows deep down that there’s more to it.
His attitude towards her keeps changing, he’s either completely stern or completely soft. The latter is more confusing for her given his persona. It’s even more concerning when it’s shown in front of other agents.
The only logical reasoning would be the physical relationship that they have. They hook up when he approaches her (which has been increasing lately). But getting on his nerves is her favorite activity, so sometimes she barges into his office or room and initiates the first move. Of course, she does that because he specifies that sex will happen only when he says so. Though his plan doesn’t seem to work as he obliges to her wishes every single time and fucks her into the next training.
It started almost six months ago when he had it with her during an important training. She talked back at him in front of relevant agents from a different country. He commanded her to leave and wait in his office where he was going to issue a punishment for her. That went completely sideways when the verbal discipline he wanted to perform turned into degradation as they screwed each other’s brains.
They never actually agreed to a certain timing, Harry would simply show up and knock the air out of her lungs with a hungry kiss. He’s someone who likes order in both his personal and professional life, Y/n disobedience rendered him attractive to him in an odd way.
The nice outcome was the raw and dirty sex they had. The only orders she obeyed were the ones he gave her behind closed doors.
It isn’t exactly an ideal position because intimate relationships are not to be found in the workplace; especially in this dangerous field. That wasn’t supposed to be an issue since it was common knowledge that they hated each other’s guts.
But did they?
Harry’s weird behavior did not go unnoticed by Y/n, maybe it’s just their chemistry increasing but at this point, she can’t figure out anything. Lying to herself won’t benefit her; she likes him and she really shouldn’t but it’s already too late.
He isn’t a casual kisser but that changed recently. He attaches his mouth to hers the entire time as if they got glued somehow.
He developed the habit of resting his lips against her forehead during missionary, leaving a subtle kiss that she didn’t even catch up on until a while after.
Despite the sexual energy they shared, the stolen glances and lingering touches, by far his lips subtly brushing against her face was the closest form of obedience he had ever experienced.
Their bodies worked together in sync. A kiss here, a kiss there. Warmth here and warmth there.
They despised each other outside of the bedroom, Harry can’t handle someone who questions his authority and Y/n is exactly that.
She messes with his perspective about everything he has been taught, his morals, his personality, and his methods of training. Whenever they’re found in the same room together, know that some snarky comments will be thrown.
He hadn’t seen her in two days. It’s normal to go a while without seeing a colleague or an agent as everyone’s missions can vary. He lived his life normally without seeing lifelong friends for months, unaware of their safety and whereabouts. But the moment the clock turns 8 in the morning, he’s up on his feet strolling to Agent Marks’ office. All agents that he bumps into either move out of his way after greeting him or quickly hide inside a room.
And that is Harry Styles.
“Marks where is Miss Y/n?” Harry practically barged into the office making the agent in front of him jump on his feet in a matter of seconds.
“Morning S-ir” He stuttered in shock at the sudden entrance before processing what Harry asked him and turning his attention to the computer where he typed Y/n’s name as Harry gave him a cold stare.
“It looks like she’s scheduled to return today.” He answers Harry whose face shows a hint of relief upon hearing the information.
He walked out of the office without any other word and headed straight to the spacious gym where other agents were training as well. This time no one halted their movements or walked away, only because everyone wanted to admire his stamina while working out.
All agents were well trained and monitored, just because Harry radiated authority does not mean others were lower than him. He’s a well-respected man.
The attention in the room turned to him as he covered his hands in boxing gloves and began punching the bag in front of him.
Watching him exercise was similar to indulging in a movie about a ruthless athlete. He punched it nonstop as sweat dripped down his forehead until it ultimately covered his pump chest.
His stamina was otherworldly. He didn’t reach this position for nothing. While everyone admired him and secretly wished they could mimic his moves, Harry’s mind was somewhere else.
He couldn’t stop thinking about a certain girl and her safety. He’s not sure which is irritating him more; the fact that he’s unaware of her situation or why he’s so concerned with her.
His punches were coordinated yet extremely intense. His biceps flexed with every move and his abs contracted under the dim light of the gym.
He released every emotion that he couldn’t decipher into that punching bag. He didn’t realize how far he went until his friend Zayn stood in front of him and caught the punching bag in his arms.
“Mate it’s gonna fall off the hook.” He warned him, catching his eyes in a concerned stare.
Harry looked around him only to be met with the sight of an empty gym and a clock that was striking at 1 in the afternoon.
He’s been here for three hours?
He walked slowly to the nearest wall where he rested his back before sitting on the ground.
He lost track of time as his mind was conquered by Y/n. He shouldn’t be thinking about her or anything that’s related to her. And definitely not about the mole on her left hip and the softness of her—
“Are you okay?” Zayn rescued him from his merciless brain. Harry’s chest heaved as he closed his eyes to gain a moment of calmness that he rarely ever enjoys.
The bruises on his knuckles that were healing are now visible again and he can’t help but remember how Y/n expressed worry over them.
Does she care about him?
Is she thinking about him?
“I’m fine.” He replied to Zayn to avoid further questioning. He’s aware that his friend can get worried sometimes but Harry is a closed book. There is no need to confide anyone in.
He walked away after catching his breath, leaving Zayn standing in the middle of the room with unanswered questions.
A cold shower will always soothe Harry right after exercising, but especially when he’s losing control of his thoughts.
As the icy water engulfed his skin in a pleasurable sting, he rubbed his face and eyes to avoid the sinful images that were flooding his mind.
Although he shouldn’t, he realized that he never fucked Y/n in the shower. It didn’t take long for him to harden at the mere thought of their skin together under the water.
He can even imagine the way she’d rest her head against his body, bite his skin, and let out lustful moans that haunt his daydreams.
He is fucked.
“Fuck’s sake.” He tilts his head backward, allowing the cold water to drip down his toned body reaching his erect cock, earning a hiss from him.
He could fuck anyone right now just to get it out of his system. In fact, he could do that at any given time and yet he always holds back.
The gravitational pull Y/n has on him is insane. He wants her body attached to his at all times.
He showered quickly after muttering under his breath about self-discipline and wrapped a towel around his waist.
His mind was so occupied with Y/n that he forgot all about bringing in clothes with him. He’ll have to step out with only the towel covering his body, but that wasn’t much of an issue as he assumed that the center would be somewhat empty at this hour.
He strolled down the hallway with the towel as a layer for his lower body. The shower helped his nerves to calm down after all the torturous thinking.
He was headed towards his office that he stays in on most nights before hearing muffled voices coming from the gym.
Normally, he wouldn’t give two fucks. He can’t keep up with every single agent and he only interferes if he observes something against the rules.
But the soft voice followed by giggles that his ear can detect from miles away—that is his business.
He dismisses the fact that he’s half-naked as he directs his attention to the gym area where he sees Y/n, still in her field clothes standing next to an agent who is clearly thirsting for her.
“I’m glad that you’re back.” The agent practically had his body glued to Y/n.
“Hmm yeah?” Y/n used her flirtatious tone; the same one that had Harry weak in the knees. He clenched his fists, trying to hold back from using the training he had today to deform the guy’s face. All the stress that the shower took away came back and bubbled through his bloodstream.
“Of course. I missed you and I was wondering if you would like—“ Harry interrupted by pushing the door open with a force, catching them off guard.
“Hello Sir—“
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” His anger was visible and he looked like he was about to get reckless.
“Training sir—“
“Training your flirting methods?! They sure as hell suck.” Harry dripped poison with every word and his body language indicated how furious he was.
Y/n stood unbothered. She was amused even. Harry could easily tell that which pissed him off even more. Her eyes scanned his body the same way she eyes a candy.
The guy was swallowing down his throat, inattentive to the shared glances between Harry and Y/n. All he cared about in the moment was not upsetting his boss, and trying not to appear as a total idiot in front of Y/n.
“Get the fuck away from my face right this instant. Your actions will have a consequence.” Harry’s voice was threatening and devilish as if he enjoyed being this rough with agents. In fact, he lived for the thrill of it.
The agent scurried out of the room as fast as he could to avoid eye contact with Harry who was staring at him with a clenched jaw and bulging eyes.
If he wasn’t angry already, Y/n surely knew how to press his buttons. She casually headed towards the door with an amused grin planted on her face.
“Not so fast Y/n.” He grabbed her arm before she got to pass by him. She rolled her eyes instantly and looked away.
“Who the hell are you rolling your eyes at?” He grabbed her jaw with his hand, forcing her to look up at him.
“Is there anyone else in the room?” She replied in a sassy tone, as she fluttered her eyelashes at him.
His nostrils were flaring and she could almost hear his teeth grinding together. The look he gave her warned her that she was in for it. But obviously, she pressed further.
He glanced subtly behind him to make sure that the hallway was empty before tightening his grip on her arm and dragging her behind him.
“Where are you—“
“I don’t want to hear you talking.” She had really messed up.
When she returned from her mission, she craved nothing more than his body against her. It tormented her on the field, but she was instead met with an agent who was pining after her when she was not even interested.
She flirted back because she saw Harry’s silhouette while the guy was too busy staring at her.
Teasing Harry was her favorite activity. They were not official nor expressed romantic gestures but Y/n was curious to see Harry’s reaction upon seeing her with other men, and that guy was the perfect opportunity for her.
She didn’t have a particular response in mind, maybe just Harry being nonchalant but she certainly did not see this coming.
He guided her to his office where he shut the door behind him with a thud. He released her arm and stood in front of her as he looked down at her with furrowed eyebrows and a clenched jaw.
“What the fuck was that Y/n?” His tone fluctuated between high and low as he cornered her, making her lean against the door while his arms caged her on both sides.
“I don’t know. What was it?” She pretended to be clueless, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth; a move that he adores.
“So now you know nothing about being a slut?” He spat with anger, attempting to avoid the way she was tugging at her lip.
Their bodies were dangerously close, he wanted to bury his face in her neck and give her love bites that she’d have to hide but feel their sting whenever pressed on. Y/n craved sinking herself on his cock and caressing his face as he let out the most beautiful sighs. But Harry’s head was spinning with jealousy and Y/n opened Pandora’s box.
“Are you jealous Harry?” She cooed, placing her hand on his toned chest which was still moist from the shower. His pine shower gel was everywhere.
“It’s sir for you.” He moved her hand away from his body and wrapped it around her throat.
He didn’t want to admit it verbally, but he was about to burn the entire room when he saw her breathing next to a man who wasn’t him. These feelings of possessiveness keep increasing and he can’t fight his urges no matter how disciplined he is.
“I left for two days and you got all cranky.”
“Then you came back and started acting like a whore.” His grip on her throat tightened as he inched his face closer to her.
“We were just chatting.” She rolled her eyes again.
“First of all, you can only roll your eyes when my cock is stretching your pussy…” His face was practically glued to hers as his deep voice sent shivers through her body. His cologne made a complete mess out of her.
“… Second of all, he wants to fuck you and that’s my duty only. Do you understand?” His tone was a mix of possessiveness and softness.
“Yes.” Her brain barely processed left his mouth.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes sir.”
With Harry towering over her, she took a quick moment to ogle his body. There’s a reason she likes it when he chokes her; other than the tingly feeling she gets when his hand covers her throat—his veins drench her panties.
They extend along his forearm down to his hand that she stares at during training. The more he tightens his grip—the more his biceps flex. His pumped chest and chiseled abs are a bit moist from the shower, and incredibly smooth because he applies a lotion. The towel is low on his waist giving a scandalous display of his toned V line, and an appearance of the ferns tattoo.
The water covering his curls dripped down to her chest then sternum; drop after the other before he lowered his face to catch them with his tongue. It felt warm against her skin—seeing him fresh out of the shower had her lusting for him to fuck her under the water.
His tongue moved against her skin, catching the fallen droplets before reaching her neck where he sucked harshly on her skin.
He pulled away abruptly offering her his devilish grin.
“Kneel.”
He switched back to his authoritative tone, he knows how much she loves being treated like a slut. She acted like one anyway.
“Yes sir.” She gradually went down on her knees, with her hands trailing his body just so she could take the towel off.
His cock stood against his stomach, beads of precum glistening on his tip.
“Don’t think for one second that this is a reward. Your mouth is nothing but a fuck toy.” He grabbed her ponytail in one hand and inserted his finger in her mouth with the other.
She sucked on his thumb, looking up at him with ‘fuck me eyes’ as she shamelessly continued to ogle his muscles. Her view was perfect. His V line and the trimmed hair had her pussy clenching around nothing.
She stuck her tongue out at him daring him to not hold back. She pushes his buttons every time so she can earn what she wants: rough sex and soft aftercare.
“Such an eager slut. Drooling for cock.” He slapped his cock on her face making her try to suck on it.
“Only your cock sir.” She knew that this would get him all worked up.
“Damn right. Only mine Y/n.” He grunted, guiding his cock to her rosy lips. She licked the precum off his sensitive tip earning a hiss from him.
Her tongue worked its way along his shaft with one of her hands cupping his balls. She maintained eye contact with him for the thrill.
Her mouth released scandalous moans to show him that she likes this. Her hand stroked his shaft while her tongue fixated on his tip.
“Sluts don’t get to enjoy pleasure.” He pulled his cock out of her mouth with a pop making her whine.
He spat on his cock before bringing it to her lips again and thrusting it all in one go. She gagged immediately and tried her best to bob her head against it. He slapped her hand away when she tried to touch his length and began thrusting his hips into her mouth.
“Can you hear that? The sound of your pathetic gagging? Way better than your sassy talk.” His voice shook at the end when his cock reached the back of her throat.
He had to balance between tilting his head backward from pleasure and looking down to see her beautiful ruined face.
Her cheeks hollowed around his shaft as he used her mouth. Her gagging had him weak in the knees, not to mention the tears streaming down her face along with her messy hair strands.
“That’s it, little minx. Make your throat ache.” He stroked her head before pushing it against his shaft, holding it for a few seconds, and pulling out.
She coughed heavily; trying to catch her breath as precum and saliva dripped down from her mouth to her chest.
“Aw, would you look at that?” He swiped his fingers along her mouth, catching their mixed juices together just so he could lick it.
“Whose cum is that hm? Whose cock are you choking on?” He asked with a raspy voice that had her squirming.
“You sir.”
“Hmm like music to my ears.” He took in her puppy eyes and ruined face for a minute or two, before thrusting his cock back in her mouth.
Her tongue felt so fucking warm that he had to restrain himself from cumming. He didn’t lie when he said that her mouth was his fuck toy. His hips rolled forward as he pushed her head on his length back and forth, letting out audible moans.
“This is the only cock you can suck Y/n.” He gritted through his teeth as he fucked her mouth mercilessly.
“When you wake up in the morning with a sore throat, you better keep that in mind.” Her whines were loud through the gagging and choking. Of course, her squirming never fails to make him smirk. She’s sassy until he makes her needy; that’s when sub-Y/n comes out to play.
“Oh poor baby, does your pussy need a cock to fill it?” He slowed down to watch more saliva leak from the corners of her mouth and to hear her beg for a release.
“What was that? Couldn’t hear you.” He sped up again—on purpose. She dug her nails into his thighs and pushed her head against his cock till her nose bumped his pelvis.
This exact moment altered his brain chemistry—she silently choked on his cock, a tear streaming down her cheek as she whimpered eagerly with puppy eyes.
She lived for this—she wanted him to use her.
He refrained from guiding her anymore as she took the initiative by herself and fucked her mouth.
“So dumb for my cock aren’t you?” He rolled his eyes in ecstasy when she swiped her tongue against his swollen tip.
His length had grown since she first began sucking it due to swelling—but that didn’t stop her from taking it all inside his mouth.
He felt his cock beginning to twitch which she seemed to enjoy. Of course, she’d want his load.
“Time to use your mouth as my cum dump, isn’t that right little minx?”
Her muffled moan and gagging sent him over the edge.
He didn’t hold back and released his load inside her mouth. His moans and curses filled the room as he kept letting out one rope after the other of his warm cum.
Y/n’s mouth overflowed as she eagerly swallowed it while some leaked out of the corner of her mouth.
“Take my cum, little minx.” He panted heavily—prompting his muscles to contract as his hand caressed Y/n’s cheek.
She took his cum every single time without hesitation, the same way he devours her cunt for breakfast.
He pulled out with a hiss—he was still leaking but he didn’t want to pressure her even though he knew she’d want it.
She was trying to lick every drop from the corners of her mouth. Her view was even better now—he looked heavenly with his body just standing there as his cock leaked on her face.
He kneeled to her level and lifted her body off the ground with one arm, before placing her on his desk. He was still experiencing the high of the orgasm—but he wanted to make sure she was okay.
She did not use her safe word and he wonders if she ever will—she likes it way too rough.
He wiped her face with tissues, pressing his lips against her temple like he always does. She rested her head against his shoulder as he stroked her head.
They never discussed his gentleness in the aftercare. It was the bare minimum of course but sometimes he liked to pretend that it was more than that.
It was an excuse to give her love. To tip the universe off its balance.
“Y/n?”
“Hmm?”
“This is the last time I wish to see you flirting with another man.” His tone remained neutral, but it was an order. A strict one.
“Don’t want to anyway.” She buried her face in his chest.
Her response caught him off guard. He can’t push away his possessive thoughts for long—but he can’t confess either.
He pulled away momentarily to fetch her a water bottle from his mini fridge. He helped her have some sips before wiping her mouth and kissing it—again.
Her mouth was addictive and damn it was he an addict.
He sticks to a lot of rules in his life—yet her lips feel so forbidden, inviting him into a world free of order.
She was his kryptonite.
His red line that no one would survive crossing.
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Kindly reblog if you liked it!!
Taglist: @babegoals @hotnhardrrry @mattiehattuck1
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astonmartinii · 11 months
Text
bite the hand | max verstappen social media au
pairing: max verstappen x fem musician!reader [face claim: clairo + clairo, boygenius and taylor swift music]
having fans are great, but sometimes it goes to far and you have to bite the hands that feed you
MASTERLIST | TIPS
yourusername
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liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 913,551 others
tagged: beabadoobee
yourusername: howdy ladies, gentlemen and all that's in between, it's single release day. i had so much fun on this track with bea and getting to pour all of my love for maxy onto such a cute melody... hope you all enjoy my loves x
view all comments
user1: YES THANK YOU MOM THIS IS JUST WHAT I NEEDED TODAY
landonorris: how many letters in devoured?
yourusername: ATE 💅
landonorris: ate and left NO crumbs
maxverstappen1: why oh why did i ever introduce you two
yourusername: because you love us both?
maxverstappen1: i sure love you, jury is out on lando
landonorris: boooooooooo
user2: ugh if y/n had to date an f1 driver why couldn't she go for one of the hot ones like lando or charles?
user3: for real like bro he just drags her down
user4: you can't be serious? he's a professional athlete at the top of his sport and by what they show us a massive softy who loves y/n? why would we want anything else for her?
liked by yourusername
user5: y/n will NOT stand for any max bashing idk why you guys try it every time
maxverstappen1: so unbelievably talented and the artist of her generation
yourusername: maybe it's because i have a top notch muse ?
maxverstappen1: NO NO IT'S ALL YOU YOU ARE THE ARTIST I AM JUST LUCKY TO BE IN YOUR VICINITY
yourusername: i am the lucky one baby
danielricciardo: leave your cute shit offline i already have to hear it all of the time let me be on instagram
yourusername: nope love my boyfriend too much
maxverstappen1: nope love my girlfriend too much
user6: they're so insufferable i love them
user7: this song bangs so much more when you pretend it's not about ... him
user8: bro is acting like max verstappen ran over his puppy
user7: sorry i don't want a GREAT artist and BEAUTIFUL woman being dragged down by THAT
user9: you are insane, you do not know y/n, you enjoy her music, that doesn't give you the right to have power over things in her personal life
user10: you people are why this fanbase has a bad name and before long y/n will get fed up too
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maxverstappen1
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liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 829,043 others
tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: the off weekend spent right
view all comments
user13: i need a man so obsessed with me that all he does is post my face
user14: crazy that all this guy does is wax lyrical about how much he loves her and she's like never at his races ... interesting
user15: and her weirdly entitled fanbase say he doesn't deserve her when she clearly doesn't support him as much as he supports her
yourusername: i love you and our soft little weekends, i wanna do it all the time :(
maxverstappen1: gosh our day jobs are really quite unconventional i guess we should just retire to a remote island to live on a small farm?
yourusername: you said it not me i just wanna be anywhere with you
maxverstappen1: i love you <3
user16: RETIRE TO A REMOTE ISLAND? SOMEONE TELL THIS RAT THAT IF HE IS THE REASON WE DON'T GET MUSIC WE WILL RIDE AT DAWN
user17: babe have you ever thought that maybe the reason he said that he wants to retire away from everyone because you people stick your noses in all the time
danielricciardo: @yourusername a soft weekend you say? how many hours did max spend on the sim?
yourusername: a solid ten but he even let me have a go
danielricciardo: oh wow that man really is in love
maxverstappen1: i think she'd rival a couple of you with some practice, i'm working on getting her to join redline
user18: ugh this is so annoying... preaching like you like spending time with your girlfriend and then spend it all playing a video game and letting her have one go?
user19: the sim is something f1 drivers use to train? if anything max probably shouldn't have let y/n have a go she could've accidentally changed the set up or other things
user20: i'm seeing charles and lewis training this off weekend and he just lies in bed with this girl? he really needs to ditch her to stay at the top
user21: literally two comments up is them talking about him training on the sim the jealousy is insane from both fans at this point
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maxverstappen1
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liked by landonorris, yourusername and 893,442 others
tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: happy to take home another win in mexico, i love this track and am forever thankful to this team and my loved ones.
view all comments
user25: holy shit idk what f1 can do but the paddock looked insane today there's no way that is safe for the drivers and personnel.
user26: there's so many videos of people rushing max and although some of them look like max fans who are just excited but there were a lot of very rude rival fans trying to get too close for comfort
yourusername: forever proud of you !! you're like jimmy and sassy with zoomies on crack <3
maxverstappen1: that is the highest of the high compliment thank you my love
yourusername: champagne is on me girlypops no expense spared for the love of my life
redbullracing: do we all qualify as girlypops ???
yourusername: of course !! don't think i didn't notice the supply of vegan pizza rolls you truly are the lactose intolerant allies of the grid
user27: can she stop spending all her hard earned money on this scrub that just uses her
user28: bro makes millions in a year he doesn't NEED her but that doesn't mean he can't want her? you guys are crazy
user29: some of these fans need to do some serious evaluation, drivers are not zoo animals, they are people and deserve respect and that includes respect to their personal space.
user30: for real like why was brad basically having to act as a body guard for max and y/n
user31: this was such a dangerous event for max and y/n. they're both very famous individuals and should be able to move around the paddock without being in danger.
user32: max joked about getting a body guard for this weekend but i think he should seriously consider it especially is y/n is coming to more races while she's not touring
danielricciardo: it has been brought to my attention that y/n has stated that she will spare no expense, i am making a formal enquiry into whether this will cover my bar tab?
yourusername: i will within reason but only because your bffs with maxy and will drink the fruity lil cocktails with me
danielricciardo: REAL men drink cocktails
maxverstappen1: do NOT disrespect the humble gin and tonic on my post
user33: i'm glad they're in high spirits after the shenanigans in the paddock today and the booing towards max :(
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yourusername
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liked by taylorswift, maxverstappen1 and 1,442,776 others
tagged: maxverstappen1
yourusername: there is no full way to articulate my feelings right now. my fans have to respect my personal relationships and my boundaries. i appreciate your support but you have to understand that i am not your personal friend and you do not have the right to my personal life. i also understand that in sport, there are a lot of heightened emotions, but drivers do not owe you their safety. this is something i have felt for a long time since max and i became a public couple and the onslaught of hate came for him. you may say that it comes from a good place, or for my best interests, but the manner in which some 'fans' have expressed their 'worries' is unacceptable. i do not want to bite the hand that feeds me, but there's only so many slaps me and my loved ones can take from the hand.
bite the hand is out on all streaming platforms. please listen closely a re-evaluate your relationships with your favourite artists, thank you.
comments are not available on this post.
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maxverstappen1
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liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 1,220,664 others
tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: i love you and i will never let other people tell me when i'm not enough get in my head again. we both appreciate our support and acknowledge that we would be nowhere without it. but our relationships are ours, please respect this.
comments are not available on this post
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yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 1,344,229 others
tagged: maxverstappen1
yourusername: okay sad songs are important but it's now time for me to sing my wee little heart out about how much i love you and how i know we were always made for each other.
i love you maxy, invisible string is all about my muse. out now.
view all comments
user41: IT BANGS I LOVE THEM SO MUCH
user42: ffs i guess we're stuck with this man for life now ...
user43: LISTEN TO BITE THE HAND AND BANG YOUR HEAD AGAINST THE WALL AND HEAR THE PINBALLS OF YOUR BRAIN GOING CRAZU
user44: speak your truth sis
maxverstappen1: ISN'T IT JUST SO PRETTY TO THINK THAT ALL ALONG THERE WAS SOME INVISIBLE STRING TYING YOU TO ME
maxverstappen1: so true, you make me believe in soulmates YOU ARE MY SOULMATE I LOVE YOU
yourusername: i love you to the moon and to saturn for real
yourusername: and that thread of gold is made from all of your trophies LET'S GO RAHHHHHHHH I'M SO PROUD OF YOU
maxverstappen1: the gold of that grammy @thegrammys yall heard bags?
user45: the way they're each others wags and completely embrace it
user46: i love that they're still their goofy asses they don't give a shit abou t yall
user47: y/n dropped a heart wrenching track and immediately went ... but hey i'm SUPER happy and that's all you're going to hear
landonorris: so like can y/n remix the dutch anthem so we can actually bop every weekend
yourusername: i kinda wanna marry the king of the netherlands so maybe not
landonorris: you broke up ?????
yourusername: no you dumbass max is the king of the netherlands
maxverstappen1: not factually but i do have a medal from the royal family so same thing
landonorris: why do you guys have to clown on me every time
yourusername: you're like our baby brother it's our duty
maxverstappen1: sorry not sorry
user48: you could never make me hate them they're made for each other
user49: finally bite the hand shamed the crazy bitches into finally shutting the fuck up
note: i love bite the hand i actually fear it might be my fave boygenius song and i recommend it to everyone. i actually did my university dissertation on parasocial relationships with athletes so like i feel like a good couple of sports fans could do with a listen to bite the hand. hope yall enjoyed and had a good weekend !! (chelsea gave me a heart attack but what's new, even though i was too sick to go to the game:()
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janeyseymour · 7 months
Note
hiii!! i love your writing and i hope you’re doing well <3 i was hoping to request a melissa x reader with “causal” work crush between the two of them. reader is a very put together teacher during school hours but a trendy aesthetic person off campus. mel comes across reader at the grocery store and is astonished at the revealing alternative style and sexy tattoos. reader gets super nervous and shy once mel teasingly approaches. no one at work has ever seen her like this but especially not her crush melissa
oh wow, this one... nice. written as i procrastinate cleaning my house!
Personal and Professional
wc: ~2.4k
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You grew up hearing from both of your parents that you should never mix the personal with the professional. So you compartmentalize. You’ve always done it. You kept school life away from home life when you could, and now you keep your work life away from your home life. That’s not to say that you aren’t friends with your coworkers at school. It’s just that it’s much easier to keep professional Y/N and personal Y/N separate.
And the personal and professional you are two entirely different people.
You see, at school, you’re ‘Miss Y/N’. You keep it all together. You’re buttoned up, you’re conservative in your clothing style, and you strive to maintain that aura of professionalism that you see coming off of people like Barbara Howard. You’re pretty damn good at it too. You’re kind, you allow your coworkers to see small bits of your home life (“Oh, I’ll probably just do some grocery shopping before laying on my couch for the entirety of the weekend… maybe I’ll go to the gym,” is your usual response when they ask what you’re doing over the weekend), and the teachers have all come to respect you once you settled into your position.
But once the school hours are over and you can let your hair down, both figuratively and metaphorically, you trade out your blouse and sweater or blazer for more form-fitting and revealing shirts, pants that aren’t slacks, and you change your flats to your doc martens that you’ve been rocking since the eleventh grade. You take out the clear stud and put in your nose ring, and exchange earrings different from the delicate hoops you wear to school. Your multiple tattoos show in your street clothes, and you love it. 
You’re not entirely sure how your coworkers would feel if they knew that this was how you presented yourself outside of the school, but it doesn’t matter. They’re so used to seeing you all done up to teach that even if they did see you outside of school, they probably wouldn’t recognize you. You sure as hell wouldn’t go out of your way to say hello if you saw one of them outside of campus.
But then things start to change about six months into working at Abbott.
Shit. You have a thing for one of your coworkers- Melissa Schemmenti to be exact. It’s a very casual and silly thing the two of you have going on, really. She flirts with you, you flirt with her; it’s all in good fun. You know that you’ll never act on it though because you keep your many lives as far away from each other as possible, even going as far as grocery shopping a few streets over from where you know most of your coworkers go in order to not run into them. You’ve never had an issue with running into anyone outside of the school anyway- why would that change?
“What are your plans for the weekend, hot stuff?” Melissa flirts with you while you’re eating lunch. “And don’t give me your usual answer… you gotta have more of a life than what you lead on, miss mysterious.”
You roll your eyes. “You wish I was with you.”
She hums in lieu of an answer before asking you again, “What are your plans for the weekend?”
“Honestly?” you chuckle. “Probably some grocery shopping, I have a friend coming over tomorrow, and then Sunday is a day to grade and veg out on the couch while I catch up on some shitty reality tv.”
“Sounds riveting,” the redhead jokes.
“Well, what do you have going on?”
“Nothin’,” she grins. “I fully plan on staying in my Eagles sweatshirt and catching up on laundry and some chores- probably have some wine while I’m at it. Care to join me on Sunday after I go to church?” She’s never asked you if you wanted to hang out outside of work before, and it throws you for a loop. You nearly choke on your salad.
“Oi,” she huffs playfully. “I was just messin’. I don’t want to have to endure any of that shit reality tv in my house.”
“Yeah,” you chuckle. “I wouldn’t want you to have to sit through that either.” The two of you finish up your lunches and head back to your classrooms to deal with your monsters for the rest of the Friday.
“See you Monday, babe,” Melissa winks at you as she closes the door to her classroom and locks it.
“Oh, counting down already, I see,” you roll your eyes. “See you Monday, babe.”
When you get home, you change out of your stuff work attire and into a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. You change out your jewelry for the things you prefer. You fully plan on laying on your couch with a bottle of wine on this lazy Friday night, but when you get home you realize that you finished off your favorite white last weekend. With a sigh, you go into your bedroom to change into some nicer street clothes- you would rather be caught dead than wear sweatpants and a sweatshirt out in public. At the front door, you pull on your docs, and then you’re off to the grocery store.
If you’re there now, you decide it’s best to just get your grocery shopping for the week out of the way. You grab a cart and start perusing the aisles like you usually do.
You have a few things in your cart when you find yourself in the aisle with the wines and beers, and you’re currently pouring over the selections. What would your friend want? Probably just some Yuengling. So you throw a case of that into your cart before turning to look for the wine that you love. Little do you know, Melissa is turning her cart down the aisle that you’re currently in, and she recognizes you almost immediately.
You look so starkly different than she’s used to seeing you. If she’s being honest, she’s a little thrown off with your outfit. She’s so used to seeing you in your work attire, your hair either in a neat, low bun or down. But here? This look is entirely different from what she was expecting you to be done up in outside of work. She of course knew that you wouldn’t always be dressed like a teacher, but wow. She was not expecting this. You’re in a pair of tighter, ripped black jeans, you have a tank top on, and your hair is thrown up into a stylish messy bun with a few pieces strategically pulled out to give off the appearance that it’s an effortless look (it is for you). Is that a tattoo on your shoulder that she sees? And a tattoo on your arm? How has she never noticed that before? You have a cartilage piercing, bold earrings for your first and second, and… is that a nose ring? She didn’t even know you had your nose pierced. If Melissa’s honest with herself, it only makes you that much more attractive.
You turn, satisfied with your decision, and pop the bottle into the top of your shopping cart. You make eye contact with the redhead that is practically drooling over the sight of you. You give her a shy wave, but you don’t dare to interact. Don’t mix the personal from the professional. The woman snaps out of her own trance and waves back with a curious look.
You continue down the aisles, and you think that you’re in the clear from Melissa- you acknowledged her, that’s all you had to do. She goes on her way too, but the two of you run into each other again during checkout.
“Hey there, hot stuff,” she winks at you as she starts putting her groceries up on the conveyor belt. “Never pegged you as a beer girl.”
“Hey,” you say softly, shyly. “It- it’s actually for my friend.” That also throws Melissa for a loop. At school, you’re so confident, quick to make a remark. But now, you sound like you have something caught in your throat, and you nervously tuck one of the loose strands of hair behind your ear, as if that would make you more professional looking. “I’ve never seen you around here before?”
“I usually go to the one that everyone else goes to, but they were out of my wine, so…” she gestures to it before putting it up on the belt. “It was worth the extra ten minute drive though if it means I get to see you.” She winks at you with those emerald green eyes of her, but you don’t reciprocate. You nervously worry your lip between your teeth, as if you have no idea what to say.
Melissa understands your hesitation and shrugs. The two of you stand in line together awkwardly. She’s rung up, and as she leaves, you call a gentle, “Have a good weekend, see you Monday.”
She turns and blows a kiss your way, waving flirtatiously before leaving.
Your weekend is nice. Your friend comes over, you go out to the clubs, and you almost forget about the encounter that you had with the hot redheaded second grade teacher.
The small break from work is over all too soon, and you find yourself somewhat dragging yourself into Abbott on Monday, but duty calls. You’re back to wearing your lightly colored blouse and a sweater over top to cover the tattoo that you didn’t feel like putting makeup over today, you’re back in your dress pants and flats. You didn’t even bother to do your hair, just simply brushing it and letting it cascade over your shoulders instead.
You enter the staff lounge and it’s empty, as it always is. You’re always the first one in. Whoever comes next is always a mystery, but today, it’s Melissa Schemmenti. Of course it is. Without anyone else there to buffer, you know she is absolutely going to bring up your meeting on Friday night.
“Hey there, gorgeous,” the redhead says suavely. “Have a nice weekend?”
“Yeah, babe,” you shoot out. The coffee pot dings. “You want some?”
“You know I always do,” she sighs out as she makes a move for the cabinet with the mugs inside. She grabs hers before sauntering over to you. The second grade teacher hands you the mug before cozying up to you.
“For you,” you roll your eyes as your pour the scalding hot liquid into her cup.
“Thanks, babe,” she smirks and winks. “So… when were you goin’ to tell me about this little number?” she rests a gentle hand on your shoulder- the one with the tattoo.
“What do you mean?” you chuckle.
“That tattoo,” she licks her lips.
“I forget it’s there,” you roll your eyes. “Young Y/N mistakes.” Not true at all. You love that tattoo, and most of your street clothes show it off. 
“It’s sexy,” she tells you lowly. “Kinda like the ear spike and the nose ring I had no idea you had.”
“I’m a different woman outside of school, babes,” you tell her, smirk evident as you start to fix your own coffee. “Didn’t realize I had to tell you about it all.”
“You don’t,” she shrugs. “I’ll find it all out myself… little miss alt girl.”
“In your dreams,” you fire out, and you get pretty close to her.
“Oh, every night,” she challenges you and moves even closer. At this point, the two of you are nose to nose.
And wow, it wouldn’t take much more for you to-
“Good morning!” Janine bursts in through the door, not knowing what she’s walking into.
You and Melissa couldn’t jump away from each other faster. The young, energetic teacher starts to ramble on all about her weekend, and your other colleagues start to make their way in. When it comes time to watch the news, Melissa settles herself in next you. Her hand finds its way to your shoulder, and she starts to trace the outline of you tattoo. Then, you feel the redhead’s hand make its way to your arm, where the other tattoo is that she saw. You didn’t know she saw that one too. She lets her fingers lazily trace around that one as well. All of your coworkers are too enamored with what’s happening on the screen to really notice, and Melissa’s green eyes are trained on the television as well. You could not be further from what’s happening on the screen. All you can think of is Melissa, and the things that she’s doing right now are driving you crazy.
Soon though, the kids will start to trickle in, and you know you have to get to your classroom. So you head out, a flirtatious smile and wink thrown the second grade teacher’s way before you close yourself into your room. You take a deep breath, and get ready for your day.
As you’re about to make your way out of your classroom, you hear heeled boots clinking along the linoleum floor, and you know those boots belong to the redhead that’s been on your mind all day.
“Hey, babe,” you says, back turned to the door, but you know it’s her. “Come to walk me out?”
The clicking gets louder, and before you can even think, Melissa has you pinned up against your desk. You can feel the corner of it digging into your back, and then you don’t because all you can feel are her lips on yours. Instinctively, you kiss her back. It’s better than you had been dreaming of. And then she pulls back, wipes away the lipstick she left smudged, wipes her own mouth to fix her own lip, and then winks at you.
“I’m done pretending that all this flirting we do is harmless,” she says once she’s righted herself. “You, me, dinner tonight at The Capital Grille. 6, sharp.”
You don’t know what else to do other than nod.
“And don’t come dressed in your teacher outfit,” she instructs. “I want the babe that you are… Ear spike, nose ring, tattoos out.”
With that, she turns on her heel and makes her way out of your room. As she’s making her way down the hall, you hear her call over her shoulder, “Don’t miss me too much!”
So much for not mixing the personal with the professional.
Next
413 notes · View notes
cupcakeslushie · 2 months
Note
I dont usually send asks, mostly cause im shy and don’t know what to say lol, but I wanted to share my appreciation for your Kendratello AU, cause it’s helped me recognize a toxic relationship in my own life.
I’ve never been a victim to SA or anything of the likes, so I can’t say I’ve been EXACTLY in Donnie’s place, but something that unsettled me early on when reading your AU was how…NICE Kendra would seem when alone with Donnie.
In a lot of media, especially in the media I saw growing up, the manipulative antagonist almost always had very obvious tells that show they’re evil when interacting with the victim. Maybe they’re talking about committing a very clearly villainous deed, keep the protagonist prisoner, something like that. But Kendra didn’t. Well, not always.
Kendra destroyed Donnie from the foundation up, and then rebuilt him back up to be who she wanted him to be, would punish him but then spin the situation around to be his own fault, but the rest of the time she would seem kind.
Only recently have I realized that someone very close to me has been toxic for most of our lives, and the reason it took me this long to realize it was because they would treat me kindly only until it became in their own interest to act otherwise. But I would take it, because I loved them and didn’t want to hurt their feelings, and I assumed that since they loved me, they wouldn’t ACTUALLY (emotionally) hurt me.
Spoiler alert: they did.
I’m not going to get much more into it, but your AU’s been very comforting to me ever since this happened, because it’s helping me come to terms with the fact that what happened wasn’t my fault just because our relationship seemed nice most of the time.
Your depiction of Kendra manipulating Donnie so realistically, and Donnie slowly but surely realizing that Kendra was hurting him is so powerful, and I thank you for that.
I’m so happy for you Anon 💚💚
It’s good to see these patterns, and depending on how toxic the relationship is, to speak up for yourself, or cut the person out, if they are unwilling to change.
Kindness is often a tool used by manipulators. But the biggest thing to ask yourself is exactly what you saw. Is this person only nice to me when they need something from me? And if so, then this isn’t real kindness. Good for you for knowing your worth!!
⚠️
sa related ask and discussions of very toxic relationships…
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Personal experience rambling below. Toxic friendship and sa mention.
I’ll only be discussing this once, here, in this post. So I’m afraid if I get anyone asking for further info, I’m not going to reply /lh
I’m very sorry for what you’ve gone through. I hope you can find what you need to heal. Everyone’s traumas are so different, so please if you can, and haven’t already, speak to a professional that will give you help catered to you.
But I do want to immediately answer your question and say, yes, I have healed, for the most part. It took a lot of work and self-reflection that I didn’t want to do, because it was scary. But when I finally talked to someone, and realized I needed to take action in order to heal, that was when the process started.
For years, I thought my only options were to suffer in silence, and that what happened to me was my own fault, because towards the end, I was consenting. But I didn’t understand how my mindset and self worth had become so twisted.
My person (let’s call him J) was one of my best friends growing up. But as he got older, and more interested in…mature things, he changed. J would only ever agree to hang out together unless I offered to give him something to make it worth his while. Eventually I started to think these acts were all I was good for, as that’s all that made him happy to be around me. Pretty soon, J didn’t even have to push the ideas onto me. He only had to act uninterested or busy, and I would sit there and beg to do whatever he wanted.
The idea of rejection grew to be so painful and terrifying as he was one of only two friends that I had (the other being his sister. So if I lost one, I was so scared to lose the other). And I’d recently lost one of my closest childhood friends. Which he often used her cutting contact with us in his manipulations as well.
(It wasn’t until years later that she contacted me through Facebook and revealed that it was J that made her feel too uncomfortable, and as she already lived two hours away from us, and only visited once a year, it was just easier for her to cut off contact. I don’t blame her now, but without that knowledge, the thought that it was something I did, only helped J manipulate me.)
As I grew older, and I got better friends, I started to learn just how much I’d been pushed into only ever doing what he wanted, and how one sided of a relationship it was. He moved away, and that distance I was so scared of became a reality. But it was the best thing to ever happen. I still wonder what would’ve happened if he’d stayed in town. If we might’ve gotten married or if I would’ve finally stood up for myself. But all that matters is he is gone. There is always the danger of him coming home and me seeing him—we were neighbors, so his parents and mine still live right next door. Holidays can be kind of a high stress time lol.
That cafe comic is actually probably the most therapeutic piece out of the whole Kendratello AU I’ve done, as it’s always been a fear of mine that I could just turn around and he’d be in town visiting lol. Sending Kendra through that portal was highly cathartic. But even if that were to happen now, I have my coping skills, and I’m in a much better headspace. I think I would be able to handle myself.
I’m still a people pleaser, I don’t think that’s ever going to go away, even with all the work I’ve done. The biggest thing is, I know I’m worth more now. I can see real kindness, and catch the fake stuff much better by looking for those same toxic signs. The real friendships I’ve made have shown me what connection is truly like. It’s not a one-sided negotiation every time you get together. And if it is, then it’s probably not a healthy give and take. I’ve healed, but it is a constant effort.
Every new person sets off some kind of anxiety in the back of my head, but I don’t let that fear control how our relationship will develop. I’ve got the final say in what happens and what I get out of it.
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Carmy wants Sydney... carnally. 
I’ve debated about what his epic face journey here meant for a year now and I’m without a doubt convinced he was seriously attracted to Sydney from the day they met. There is no other explanation. I mean, if somebody wants to try another explanation go for it, but um. Who looks at a new employee like this? Would he have looked at Marcus like this? Let’s be for real. 
Why is he like this? It’s just too weird. He looks like he just saw a sexy angel (he did). Carmy is a bit odd but this is the weirdest he has ever acted. I mean it’s really stunning and I think just shows there was always something there with him for her. I don’t see how you can deny he is acting so extra. He can’t speak at first, he forgot he was expecting her because he is so surprised by her, he’s just staring, he can barely talk professionally, he forgets what UPS is, then he does this crazy shy double take. His voice is hella soft with her. He needed to look at her again, but it’s almost like he feels guilty. I could analyze these acting choices forever. It’s a really fascinating scene. 
Carmy thinks Sydney is gorgeous. He thought so from the first time he saw her. Now, he kind of tucked away that info super quick. He’s a gentleman and he’s professional. She’s qualified, actually overqualified, of course he’s gonna hire her. But Carmy’s not a pervert so he’s not gonna hire her and sexually harass her. He’s gonna keep it chill. He’s surely worked with attractive women before. No biggie... right? He can keep it together. When Richie calls her sweetheart he checked him. See, it’s all good. No worries. 
But he can’t stop staring. Carmy stares at Sydney often. He loves her face. There are times when what he is communicating could easily be communicated without being up in her face. But no, he is like as close to her face as he can be without being on it, examining from multiple angles as much as possible. He likes to turn to her. He likes to look up at her. He likes to look down at her. He likes to side-eye her. He appreciates art, beauty. Her face is that. She’s so precious to him. Notice how when we see her from his perspective she’s always extra glowy. 
Anyways, I’m sorry when this man gets her the lovemaking is going to be so raw and passionate. I’m telling you. He wants this woman, in his bed, like Moonstruck style. He just isn’t fully aware, but he does think she’s absolutely beautiful. He probably also thinks there is no way she wants him. 
This has to be fun for Jeremy to act. None of his Shameless romances had this kind of depth. This is an epic, super nuanced slow burn on a quality drama. He gets to be spicy, but sneaky, and unsure. And Ayo is so funny. They must be having a blast with this. 
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cod-dump · 6 months
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For the teen!Ghost au, has there ever been a time where Price hasn’t come home? A mission gone badly and he gets injured? Maybe Nik has to handle the fort for a little while on his own because Price is trapped in the hospital?
(Also Roach is a precious bby)
———
John getting hurt bad enough he had to go straight to the hospital. He was unconscious or just unable to call home to tell Nik or the kids that he won’t be coming home that night. So Kate has to call, and she didn’t know enough to know that John would be fine after a minor surgery to correct whatever injury he obtained.
She calls Nik and tells him that John was in the hospital after a mission with south, and that she doesn’t know much about the situation or his condition. It was enough to make Nik’s blood run cold and him to be near hysterics. But Nik’s a professional and he was able to keep a mask up and keep the truth from the kids.
But they knew something was wrong. Dad wasn’t home when he was supposed to be, they hadn’t heard anything from him and Nik was being too quiet. The fact he wasn’t acting worried made them worry.
“Where’s Dad?”
“He’s held up at work. He’s not sure when he’ll be home.”
Nik never felt so much anxiety before, especially in the comfort of his own home. All it took was a phone call and now he felt so out of control. The hospital where John was hadn’t been disclosed with him, Kate hasn’t called and gave him any updates. For all he knew John was dead. And there wasn’t nothing he could do but stay home and care for the kids and animals.
There was nothing else he could do.
Simon and Kyle were not handling this well. Of course they knew something was wrong. They’ve always been anxious boys, and now their dad was missing. Farah was harder to read but Nik could tell this was affecting her as well. She was worried, scared. She was good at hiding how she felt, but he could see her fidget and watch her phone, waiting for a phone call from John.
They were all torn up about this, terrified of what the next call will bring. Nik couldn’t sleep for those two days of silence. He just laid in bed or just rested on the couch, hoping the front door would open and John would come in. He couldn’t speak on the subject with the kids, and he knew that made everything worse.
Kate finally stopped by when the boys were at school and Farah was at work. Nik had to do everything he could to keep himself calm when she walked up the driveway and to their door. He was expecting the worst, he was expecting having to tell the kids the worst thing he could imagine. Having to handle paperwork to become the boys’ legal guardian. Fuck- Pull strings to make it where they stayed with him if that wasn’t possible.
He was expecting the worst and it showed. And Kate blinked when she noticed the stress practically radiating off of him.
“God- He’s fine, Nik.”
Nik felt relief flood him, tears wanting to spill. Then he yelled.
“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?!”
“Don’t you dare yell at me! This has been the most hellish week of my life! I’ve been having to clean up John’s mess and practically live at my office, not having a moment without someone calling me- Are you crying?”
He did start crying. And Kate had him sit down and coached him through what had to be his first panic attack in years. And once he was calm she was able to explain everything that had happened and where John had been. Both him and Kate had been practically isolated after their intel went sour.
John, having been the most hands on in it, was put through debriefings, meetings, and picked apart by his superiors the moment he came out of surgery. He wasn’t allowed to call anyone until SAS was sure he had nothing to do with everything going wrong at once.
“He’s coming home tonight. He asked me to check on you before I headed home.”
Nik felt stress and relief flow intertwined, his heart pulling every which way. John was coming home, and he wanted to strangle him for making him worry. He didn’t strangle him when he saw him get dropped off. Nik instead swung the front door open before he even made it onto the porch and grabbed him and pulled him into a fierce hug. John squawked when he was grabbed but didn’t fight him, just slumped against him, exhausted.
“Missed ya, too,” he had muttered against his shoulder. John could have easily fallen asleep right there, in Nik’s arms.
He wouldn’t get a chance to, however. Once Riley started barking, the house came alive and John wouldn’t know peace for the next few weeks. A small price to pay for the worry he had put his family through.
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elliespeach · 1 year
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the black lace | ellie williams
pairing: ellie williams x afab reader warnings: 18+!! smut smut smutty smut smut smut!! r! receiving, fingering, strap riding, teasing, friends to lovers lowkey,reader n ellie smoke bc who doesn't love that shit, the plot is there if u squint but i tried to not focus on it too much, not proofread wordcount: 3k an: yeah yeah i got this from porn SUE ME i will not be apologizing
you knocked on ellie’s dorm, you were a little late because you couldn’t decide what to actually wear. it was seconds before her door opened, revealing her and that smile you loved so much. your friendship with ellie was always dancing on the very thin line between platonic and romantic. a few drunk nights here and there where you both got really handsy with each other, you were always cuddling and playfully flirting with one another. but neither of you ever truly acted on the obvious feelings you had for one another, and you hoped tonight would change that. 
your plan was simple, really. ellie prided herself on her photography skills, even selling a few of them and you had asked her to help with taking some professional explicit photos of yourself. you didn’t share with her why, but ellie definitely thought about the reason all day. and she cursed herself for not asking why, instead she was so excited about the idea she immediately said yes and only thought about it later once it actually set in. without even fully knowing, your plan was already working. 
“that’s what you’re wearing?” she asked, looking you up and down with a smug expression on her face. 
you lifted up your shirt slightly, revealing the lace beneath, “did you want me to walk across campus with only this on?” ellie whistled and you pulled your shirt back down, rolling your eyes at her while she stepped aside, letting you in her dorm. it was small, but decorated just perfectly to encapsulate ellie’s personality. mortal kombat posters plastered everywhere along with ones related to comics you had no knowledge of. art supplies were scattered along her desk as if she had been painting just minutes prior and her camera sat perfectly placed on her freshly made bed. 
the neon weed sign on her wall illuminated the room in a purple cloud as it always did, making the stick-on stars on her ceiling glow as well in the semi-darkness. you turned back around to her as she shut the door behind her, she was in her usual lounging around wear. the hoodie that she stole from you that she refused to wash because it smells like you. “wanna smoke first?” she inquired, bending down to grab the shoebox from under her bed. 
“always,” you responded and sat on the edge of her bed while she picked a pre-roll from the box. she placed it in her mouth and lit the end but passed it off to you before she inhaled. she sat next to you on the bed as you took a few puffs and blew it out of the open window. 
you handed it back to her, making eye contact as you did and her fingers lingered above yours for a second too long and she cleared her throat, looking away and taking the pre-roll. “so–uh, why did you need these pictures?” she took a drag and exhaled quickly. 
“just for myself,” you admitted, which wasn’t an entire lie because you had no one else to send them to, the only person you would send them to would be her. ellie chuckled, taking another hit and handing back to you but not allowing her fingers to linger. she spoke as you inhaled the smoke. 
“really? just for you?” she asked in disbelief, allowing the little green monster in her show slightly. “not that girl in your lecture who you said was totalllyyy hot?” she mocked you, concealing her jealousy with a joke but her chest felt heavy as she did. 
you turned your body towards her, lifting your knee to rest on the bed, the other dangling off and swaying with the nerves that filled your body. “maybe,” you shrugged, taking one more hit before trying to pass it back to her. ellie rolled her eyes, swiveling her body to reach the camera behind her ignoring you trying to pass her the pre-roll. 
“i’ve heard horror stories about her–” ellie spoke, turning back to you with the camera in her hands. she gently pushed your shoulder down so your head fell to her pillow. she propped herself up on her knees and stared down at you through the camera lens. “you could do better than that.” 
since she wouldn’t take it back, you balanced the pre-roll in your mouth and lifted your upper body, peeling off the shirt that covered the lace. the high coming on making you feel more confident, along with her words so obviously laced in jealousy. bringing yourself back down on her bed and taking another hit and keeping it in your fingers. “and who is that?”
ellie gawked at you through the lens, the lingerie falling so softly on your skin and squeezing all the best parts of you. she had never seen so much of you exposed, the very thin layer of lace that covered your nipples and she was glad you couldn’t tell where she was looking through the camera. she swallowed probably louder than she had intended to and quickly refocused on the conversation. “anyone but her.” 
she snapped a picture, looking at it on the camera and shook her head. you were perfect, but the angle was off and she moved from the foot of the bed and came beside you, still on her knees. you scoffed as she straddled your lap, looking through the lens once again, focusing on your upper body. “ellie wh–” 
“shh, i’m working–” she uttered, snapping another picture catching you off guard. so you decided to just play into it, posing as best you could while she continually took pictures. she would occasionally shift her weight on top of you, resting against your legs that were propped up behind her back. the movement on your core, as little as it was, felt antagonizing like she was doing it on purpose. and she was. 
ellie was doing all she could to keep composed, but you looked so good laying on her bed in the black lace and she felt her own core tighten as it usually did when she was around you. ignoring it, she removed the camera from her eyes and plucked the pre-roll from your hands, taking a drag herself before climbing off of you. if you hadn’t been paying attention, you would have whined at her leaving but while the weed rested in her mouth she tugged on your pants, speaking out of the side of her mouth. “you look stiff,” 
“stiff?” you asked, pulling your pants down to your ankles and ellie couldn’t stop herself from peeling them the rest of the way off for you.she tossed them to the floor, putting out the pre-roll into the ashtray on her desk at the foot of the bed. turning back to you, she placed her hands on your legs gently. while meeting your gaze, she moved them up and goosebumps erupted on your skin. 
“yeah, stiff,” she repeated, stopping her hands at your thighs and spreading them apart. the lingerie hiding your wetness that had grown since you walked in the door and ellie reached for her camera, placing herself between your legs. “like you’re nervous–” she said, pulling the camera up to her eye. 
“i am not nervous,” you lied with a chuckle and ellie dropped her shoulders, bringing the camera down as well and placing it next to you on the bed. her expression read as really? and you doubled down, “i’m not!” 
she clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth, breathing out a sigh that you couldn’t decipher. she pushed back any thoughts screaming at her to stop as she lowered herself between your legs, peppering kisses along the insides of them. “do i make you nervous?” her hot breath grazed your thighs and you knew you were a goner, your breathing hitched and you laughed as her lips tickled your thighs. 
“n-no,” you remained firm, but her kisses felt like velvet on your legs and you held back from begging her to rip off the lingerie. she lifted her head from your legs, meeting your gaze. 
“i’m not buying it, babe,” you were used to her calling you babe, but her voice had turned to a low raspy tone and you nearly melted. ellie took notice of your weakened state with her between your legs and bit down on her lip, taking you in. she ran her hand up your thigh, grazing it over the top of the lace on your stomach and all bets were off for her. “i could help loosen you up, y’know.” 
you stomach was doing flips and you looked down at her still between your legs, her fingers twirling the lingerie on your hips. you knew exactly what she meant, but you decided to play dumb despite the aching urge for her to connect her lips to you again, “we already smoked–” 
“i’m not talking about smoking,” she whispered as she pulled herself up from your legs and hovering over your face. she studied your face, moving from your eyes to your lips and back again, as if asking permission. you didn’t nod, you didn’t respond, you took her face in your hands and connected your lips, tired of waiting. 
her mouth took control, forcing her tongue inside yours as her hand guided itself down your chest and squeezing the lingerie that covered your breast. you two had kissed before but it was when you were way too drunk but this time felt different. as if circumstances had changed, she kissed you like you were hers and it felt hungry which only made you all the more desperate for her to touch you. 
her hand wandered down as she kissed you, stuffing her hand beneath the clothing and finding your drenched pussy. as her fingers swirled around between your folds you moaned into her mouth, unable to hold it back and she smiled against your lips as if in victory. she pulled back from the kiss while her hands worked their magic that you had been longing for ever since you met her. she kept her face close to yours, feeling each other's heavy breathing and your hips bucked, needing more of her. 
but as you did she retracted her hand, snapping your lingerie back down on your skin. this time you whined, the missing feeling of her fingers in your slick being overbearing. “you’re soaked, babe,” she said breathlessly in her raspy voice. she took the camera that had been laying stagnant beside the two of you and repositioned herself at your feet. “let’s see if that helped,” bringing the camera up to her eye, staring at the mess she had made you to be. your chest was heaving and the clothing did little to hide the wet patch that had appeared as the result of her. 
she tsk’d, lowering the camera and looked into your doe eyes, glossed over with desperation. “try touching yourself,” ellie’d be lying if she said that she wasn’t self indulging here, you looked perfect and to be honest you were never stiff to begin with. but she couldn’t hide the way you made her feel, the butterflies that filled her stomach when you moaned into her mouth and she knew that she couldn’t go back to how it was before after this. 
you obliged, slipping your hand beneath your lingerie and felt just exactly how wet you were. you’d be embarrassed it had been anyone but ellie, but while watching her look down at you through the camera you felt the familiar build up rising in your stomach. just the image of her was enough for you. soft mumbles escaped your mouth and you arched your head back, hearing the camera snapping above you. when it stopped you lifted your head, your fingers still gliding through your own folds and ellie had placed the camera back down and she was just gazing at you while you pleased yourself. you swore you heard a soft, fuck come from her but over your own mumbles you weren’t sure. 
she leaned down, snagging the small straps on your hips in her knuckles and tugged. you lifted your legs to your chest as she pulled them up and off of you, your wet cunt on full display for her now and the look in her eye was dangerous. you hadn’t seen this side of ellie before, just her grabby hands all over you but never so determined like now. she gently pushed your legs apart again, sliding her fingers through your wetness before inserting her middle finger and your back arched. you gripped her sheets as she pumped in and out, groaning as she quickened her pace at your reaction. 
“f-fuck, ellie–” you moaned, eyes rolling back in pleasure. ellie smirked watching you unravel in front of her and slid in her ring finger, curling them inside of you. your pussy clenched around them and ellie let out a low animalistic grunt, pushing them further into your cunt with every thrust. the sound of your slick against her fingers filling the room and you felt your stomach bundle up in knots. your hand grasped at her arm that was holding her up, digging your nails into her skin and letting the moans roll out of your mouth. “i’m– i–” 
“i know baby,” ellie panted, her fingers never letting up, the new nickname ringing in your ears, bringing you closer to your climax. “let it out, i got you–” she cooed through breaths and with her words you came undone. your legs shook around her fingers, eyes rolling and back arching as tall as it could and ellie nearly finished herself just watching you. your tits bouncing with the thrusts of her fingers and she only slowed down and removed them when your quick breaths turned into long exhales. 
she couldn’t help herself and licked her fingers clean of you, leaning down and planting soft kisses on your jawline then coming back up to your mouth. “it wasn’t about pictures, was it?” she spoke quietly into your mouth, her eyes fluttering open to meet yours. you shook your head slightly, cupping her face and kissing her again, feeling accomplished that your plan had worked. 
when she pulled away you gave her puppy dog eyes, your hands gliding down her arms and tugging slightly as if to pull her back to you. “you want more?” she asked tauntingly, leaning against the wall beside her bed and brushing a hair from your face. you got up, positioning yourself on her lap and laced your arms behind her head, trailing wet kisses down her neck. 
her hands roamed your body while she hummed softly from your kisses. while sitting on her lap, you couldn’t help but feel a bulge poking you from under her sweatpants and you pulled back, an amused expression across your face. “it wasn’t just pictures for you either then?” you questioned in a low voice as your hands worked their way beyond her pants and felt the silicone underneath. 
she pulled off her hoodie, throwing it behind you and her hands found your figure again. her thumbs tracing your skin softly as she refocused her eyes on you. “i just happen to be wearing it,” 
“sure, els,” you mocked her, sliding off of her lap and tugging her pants down revealing the strap she had been concealing. it was rather large, veiny and had a purple tint to it– although you weren’t sure if it was from the neon lights in her room. but nonetheless it looked sexy attached to her, springing up as her pants were removed. you crawled up her legs, kissing here and there while she watched, her hands playing in your hair. ellie’s own pussy throbbing at the sight as you placed yourself down on the purple silicone, feeling it fill you up. 
her hands found your hips and with the help of her hands guiding your hips, you rode her strap. the movement of the base of it rubbing ellie just the right way to feel her stomach tighten as your tits bounced in her face. you placed one hand on the wall behind her to steady yourself, the other resting on her shoulder as you grinded on her, the strap reaching every corner of your pussy. ellie dug her fingers into your hips and moved you faster, feeling her own release coming on. 
your head fell into her shoulder and a string of moans and cursing came rambling out next to her ear. she was doing the same, allowing herself to express her pleasure in the form of quick breaths and low grunts. “oh my god, baby–” she managed to get out as your hips grinded faster into her and her hands cupped your tits, squeezing harshly before bringing one of them into her mouth. her tongue swirled on your sensitive nipple, feeling the vibration of her moans as she sucked on your boob before letting them go with a pop. 
her head leaned back on the wall beside your hand and her eyes were closed tight, feeling herself come closer to her finish. she could sense you were close to, your legs shaking against hers and how your breathing became more erratic. bringing her hands back to your hips to guide them, as if they needed any help anyway, you both felt the sensation of tipping over the edge and awfully loud gasps came from the both of you. your head was still buried in her shoulder as you came and ellie grabbed your face, pulling you into a deep kiss as you rode out your highs together. your grinds slowly came to a stop before plucking yourself off of her. 
you sat beside her, both of you completely out of breath and when you met her gaze she smirked at you lightly. “i still wanna take those pictures of you,” your face contorted into a confused one and she continued, rubbing your thigh with her hand, “for…. science.” 
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wileys-russo · 11 months
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Mearps with a reader who plays on like a local Sunday league football team so literally nothing close to professional, it’s just for fun. But Mary makes every game she can stood with her hood up on the sideline cheering when you so much as touch the ball or like shows off the fact that she’s yours by rolling up to get you from training or something? And you come home and dinners made “because she’s proud of you for training hard”
sunday league II m.earps
"-so are we all just expected to ignore the fact that there's an actual lioness watching us play right now." your teammate breathed out with a shake of her head making you smile.
"yes you are! heads back in the game." you ordered sternly, everyone huddled up for half time taking a water break. "she's like the least judgmental person ever guys we go through this issue every single week, relax." you chuckled as their eyes continued to flicker to your girlfriend on the sidelines.
you'd warned her over and over how intimidating her presence was at your grassroot level sunday league games however forever the proud girlfriend her solution to the problem was to just show up in a hoodie and cover her face as if that helped at all.
the ref calling for everyone to return to the pitch you turned to put your water bottle back, catching her eye as she gave you a toothy grin and a wink. "come on captain you can kiss your girlfriend later." your team mate teased as she grabbed you, dragging you back to the pitch.
though it was hardly the wsl that didn't mean none of you took your games seriously, so up by one you were determined to keep that lead if unable to widen it, shot after shot being blocked as the opposition resorted to a 5 man defensive line.
"lets go 14!" you heard mary call out your number proudly with an encouraging clap as you took another shot but it bounced off the post, kicking the ground in frustration and just waiting for the whistle to blow.
unfortunately for you luck seemed to be on their side. you watched with a defeated sigh as the ball swooshed into the back of your net, not even a minute later reprised by the whistle.
you did your best to build your team back up in a post game huddle, highlighing the positives of the game rather than the negatives and telling them you'd see them all at training on tuesday night. after a bried debrief with your coach he clapped you on the back and you grabbed your bag making your way over to mary.
"hi gorgeous." the older girl smiled sympathetically, opening her arms as you melted into her with a tired sigh. "oi, none of that. you played wonderfully love!" she assured softly as you reached up and tugged at the hood which covered your head.
"your disguise didn't work very well baby, you freaked them all out again." you smiled in amusement. "well i'm not staying away so they better get used to it." mary grinned and nudged your chin up, sweetly kissing your lips before taking your bag off you and pulling you into her side walking the two of you to her car.
"i had to fight off tooney and maya from coming with me you know? imagine if three lionesses came to watch, your team might faint on the pitch." mary teased as you rolled your eyes and she threw your bag in the back, opening your door for you.
"you know i still could-"
"no! i love you so very dearly but we do not need a mary earps masterclass at training." you shook your head but kissed her cheek in thanks anyway, knowing she meant no harm. "you look good as a wag. you know i could get you a spare jersey to wear next time?" you smirked wiggling your eyebrows as she started the car.
"oh my god and if you could sign it for me? i'd simply die i'm just your biggest fan!" mary gushed sarcastically, fanning her face with a sigh as you playfully shoved her head and she started to drive the two of you home.
~
"dinner's already done, go have a shower and i'll dish up." your girlfriend smiled softly, pecking your lips and nodding upstairs. "you're the best." you melted at the thoughtful act of domesticity.
"i know, you're so lucky." mary sighed dramatically as you shoved her. "i'm really proud of you though. my pretty hard working captain." the taller girl smiled much more sincerely as you craned your neck up to press your lips to hers.
"mm if this continues we'll both need a shower. go on love!" she pushed you away, smacking your bum with a wink. "doesn't sound like the worst idea?" you hinted, holding your hand out hopefully as she shook her head.
"later, if you play your cards right." mary smiled suggestively as she returned to the kitchen. "bold of you to hold that over me when its you who has the self control problem earps." you teased her as she flipped you off and you disappeared upstairs.
"you know baby it's just such a shame you're a...striker." mary gagged later on, forcing out the word as you punched her in the arm and continued drying the dishes she handed you.
"some of us like participating in games, not just sitting back in the net being bossy and yelling at everyone." you smirked as your girlfriend dropped the dish she was washing and fixed you with a glare.
within seconds you'd dropped the tea towel, racing off as she charged after you, your laughters filling your space before inevitably she caught you, the keeper taking you down to the floor with a grin.
"i'll show you bossy."
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Text
The Art of Turning 30
“So, am I allowed to talk?” Annabelle gave an awkward little laugh, that she immediately wanted to stuff back into her mouth. “I’ve never done this before!”
“You can talk.” Julian flashed her a quick, reassuring smile. “At least until I tell you not to.”
They both laughed, then. Julian’s laugh was not awkward.
It was six months until her thirtieth birthday.
She had met him at her girlfriend Camille’s twenty-ninth birthday party, a few weeks ago, only to be surprised that they’d somehow never crossed paths before. London was big, but it wasn’t that big surely, and Julian was an artist.
Annabelle felt like she spent half her free time at artsy bohemian parties and amateur gallery openings, though maybe that was why. He wasn’t an amateur, was he?
She’d looked him up online after and seen several shining reviews of his first exhibition, and a rosy buzz of anticipation at what he’d do next.
She remembered that buzz. People used to get that buzz when they talked about her. Apparently, his work was ‘visceral’ and ‘felt startlingly alive’.
It seemed impossible that he wanted to paint her, of all people.
Annabelle shifted on the stool, glancing around Julian’s studio space as he finished setting up his easel and paints. Oils. He’d said he was using oils. That mattered in painting, didn’t it?
The studio was everything she’d always imagined a professional artist’s studio to be. It was quite large, with clean wooden floors and white walls crowded with stacks of sheet-covered canvases in progress.
There was only one that was ready and visible; a painting of a beautiful blond man, probably nearing thirty too, lounging on the same stool that Annabelle was perched upon. He gazed out at the viewer with a hungry sort of hope. Like they were the best thing he had ever seen.
The studio smelled like drying paint and the sandalwood diffuser wafting its calming scent from the window sill. Sunlight coated the room like honey, or gold.
“You’re not going to make me look ugly, are you?” she asked.
He smiled again, meeting her eyes. “I couldn’t possibly.”
He probably flirted with all of his models, but she still felt a blush of heat rise to her face.
He looked like he could be in a painting, or one of those classical sculptures still concerned with archetypal ideals of beauty. Of course, she was with Camille, so nothing would happen…but still. The attention made her heart pound. Camille was usually too tired from work to flirt with her anymore.
Annabelle wasn’t sure how good she’d be at seeing a painting of herself that she hated, and not letting it show on her face. She’d probably tear up. It would be embarrassing for both of them. She shifted on the stool once more, and tugged at the hem of her summer dress.
“This is for your next exhibition?”
“I think I’m going to call it ‘The Art of Turning 30’.”
“Explains why I’m your muse instead of some gorgeous twenty two year old ingenue.” She laughed again. He did not. She continued, even as she willed herself to stop babbling, because he wasn’t looking at her with the expectation that she do anything. He plucked up a pencil, beginning his work. “It’s like, when you’re a woman, after you turn thirty your life is over, right? It’s like with my acting. And then by the time you’re forty all of a sudden all you can possibly be is, like, a mother or a witch. Or, you know, the dead wife. It’s all downhill.”
“You wouldn’t want to be a witch?” He raised a brow. “They always seemed pretty powerful to me. I could see you as a witch.”
“But do you know what I mean?”
“Can you turn your head a little the left, please?”
“What? Oh. Yes.”
She turned her head to the side, towards the window, and hoped the sunshine made her seem younger rather than highlighting every growing crag and wrinkle.
She could only watch him out of her periphery vision now; a wistful muse, seemingly unaware that she was being observed. She tried to look deep and mysterious.
“Perfect,” he said. “Thanks. You’re just perfect.”
The canvas of the blond man fell to the floor with a soft thump.
Annabelle jumped.
“Sorry.” Julian shook his head, another easy laugh on his breath. “The landlord never lets me put proper hangings on the wall here. Says it wrecks them. I guess so long as they don’t do that at the exhibition?”
“I don’t know, you could probably play it off as a stunt…lean into the photorealism.”
“Now, there’s an idea. Genius.” 
She probably didn’t look deep and mysterious. She probably just looked smitten.
***
She sat for Julian three times a week for the next several months.
It became a pocket of peace in her life, the hours when it was okay to finally stop and be for a while, because everything else seemed to be hurtling through her fingers faster than she could clutch hold of it.
She’d always imagined that she would be a successful, or at least up-and-coming, actress and screenwriter by the time she turned thirty.
Sure, women only made up around 30% of the directors or writers behind the camera, but back in school everyone always said that maybe she’d be the one to change that. She wasn’t entirely sure when they stopped saying it, but they had.
It was three months until her thirtieth birthday.
“Here.” Julian caught hold of her chin, featherlight, angling her back towards the sun. The days were getting shorter. Time was running out for them both. “You were like this.”
She had got in the habit of always sitting a little wrong, because he’d always adjust her, oh so careful and attentive, like she was his masterpiece.
She would have probably preferred to be her own masterpiece, but being his seemed like the second best option. She could practically feel the ghosts of forgotten, underappreciated female muses-past screaming at her that no, it was always better to be somebody than someone’s, but frankly she wasn’t sure she could be picky.
She’d been getting less and less call backs, and was starting to feel more like she was a part-time waitress dabbling at film than a part-time actress-filmmaker working hours in hospitality to make ends meet.
It was like a window was closing. Her window. That morning she’d found an honest to the devil grey hair on her head!
Camille told her that she was being ridiculous – that she’d become increasingly vain since Julian started painting her.
Annabelle had snapped back that vanity wasn’t vanity for an actress. Her looks were her currency.
It hadn’t always been so hard, had it?
All in all, it didn’t seem like a sin to let him touch her. It was nice to be touched. There was nothing untoward in that.
She peeked up at Julian, standing over her, his star ever on the rise. Their stares met again. He smiled that quick, reassuring smile of his.
“You look tired,” he said softly.
“Sorry.”
“No, no.” He widened his eyes. “I didn’t mean—” he huffed gently, and let go of her. “I haven’t got to your mouth yet. If you want to talk about it.”
Annabelle grinned back before she could stop herself.
It had become a standing joke. She sometimes felt she spent their whole time together talking about herself, but he always said it was interesting and made the hours fly. He was a very good listener.
More privately, she sometimes suspected that he was leaving her mouth for last just so they could continue chatting, but she wasn’t allowed to see the painting to check. The thought was thrilling though.
 “It’s nothing,” she said, even if she already knew she’d probably tell him everything on her mind. “I don’t know.”
What would she do when the painting was done? She’d see him at his exhibition opening, probably, but there would hardly be a reason for them spend time together like they did when she was sitting for her portrait.
Maybe it was silly to consider him one of her friends. She’d miss it, though. She’d miss him.
Maybe he’d want to do another one of her, but who was she kidding? Maybe in ten years, when he did a gimmicky but charming follow up. The Art of Turning 40: Where Are They Now?
What did he know about turning thirty anyway? He couldn’t be more than twenty-five. He had loads of time.
“There’s an intimacy,” he murmured, “to painting someone. Especially like this, in the old fashioned way. A lot of people use photographs and quick studies because they’re more convenient and you don’t have to catch the right light, you know? But I love it.” The air filled with their breathing, and the soothing dab of his paint brushes on his palette, mixing up the colours of her. “You really get to know people this way. It adds soul to the work. It’s magic.”
She felt, more than saw, his gaze cut over her again.  Her blood was electric beneath his scrutiny.
He continued, softly.
“I knew from the moment we met that I wanted you to be my centrepiece for this one.”
“Flatterer.”
“It’s true!” He laughed. “You have this great energy. I knew you were going to be interesting, and I was right. And you know how to model well. Because you’re an actress, right? You’re used to people looking at you.”
An actress, no ‘wannabe’ or ‘aspiring’ or ‘failed’ tacked on front. She couldn’t help but sneak a glance at him as best she could without turning her head.
“My boss always says I should have more energy, then I’d wait tables faster.”
“What does Camille say?”
“Camille—” Annabelle blinked in surprise, then swallowed. Her hands curled in her lap. She resisted the urge to sigh.
“Uh-oh.”
“No, no,” she said. “It’s fine. I just – she thinks if I’m not happy I should do something about it. She’s always telling me about other things I’d be really good at that have better pay, or more sociable hours.”
“So, give up on your dreams already.”
“Yeah.”
Annabelle deflated. She knew that Camille didn’t mean anything bad by it, but that was what it implied, right? She was never going to be a famous and successful actress or screenwriter, so she should settle for something manageable.
“Well, she’s not a creative, like us,” Julian said. “She doesn’t get it.”
Like us. Annabelle was a horrible girlfriend for feeling a swell of pleasure at that. It was true, though. Still.
“We’ve been together for a really long time, and she’s been really supportive. I think she’s just finding the whole ‘me turning thirty’ thing annoying. Mainly because I won’t shut up about it. Which I’m sure you sympathise with!”
Camille said that anyone who claimed life stopped at thirty was an idiot. There was no limit for potential, no one age where everyone had to have their life together and perfect by.
She was probably right, but Annabelle could still feel the panic of it clawing at her the closer her birthday got. Even if she was successful after thirty, she wouldn’t be one of those young geniuses that everyone had expected her to be. She wouldn’t be exceptional.
She would just be Annabelle. It didn’t feel like enough. Maybe if she could see herself like Julian apparently saw her, it would be better.
“Chin up,” Julian said.
Annabelle cleared her throat again. “Right, yeah.”
“No, I mean.” His voice was deadpan. “Your head. You’ve moved. Drooped.”
She shot him a look over her shoulder. The melancholy shoved itself down again in the pit of her stomach.
He tossed her a wink from behind the easel, to indicate he was joking. Only trying to cheer her up and lighten the mood.
“So, I still don’t get to see what else you’re working on, huh?” she asked.
“I’d have to kill you.” He switched to another, smaller brush in her periphery vision.
She snorted.
“It would be very inconvenient all around,” he said. “Rigor mortis sets in fast. I’d never get the painting done in time.”
“Well we can’t have that. After you’re finished with me then, I suppose.”
“Our art is a part of us, Annabelle.” He shot her another glance in turn, brush poised above his image of her, considering. “So how, then, could I ever truly be finished with you?”
Her breath hitched in her throat. She debated possible responses to that, and how he could have meant it. Her body felt warm and flushed.
He gestured that she angle her head left once more, not looking away for a second himself.
Annabelle turned.
The summer waned outside the window, but in the painting she would still be in her sundress, legs tanned and toes painted sky blue.
Thank god he kept his studio warm. The minutes ticked by, the air between them settling tranquil once more.
“Sometimes,” she said, softly, “I wish we could stay like this forever. Freeze the moment. Is that stupid?” It felt a confessional thing to say. Bold.
“No.” She could hear the equally soft smile in his voice. “It’s not stupid. Isn’t that how I got you to agree to do me this favour?”
She remembered the party; an adult version of what they all used to do, even if it still felt like they were all pretending to be grown-ups. Or at least, Annabelle felt like she was pretending. She didn’t feel twenty-nine.
She’d clutched her glass of wine and hovered near a somewhat strained conversation about mortgages and the state of the housing market, and how none of them were going to be on the property ladder before they were fifty, before she caught sight of Julian coming in. 
She echoed his words, and didn’t have to fake her wistfulness that time.
“To be remembered in art is the closest any humans’ get to immortality.”
He echoed the next line back at her. “Doesn’t that sound like fun?”
And she’d said yes.
***
“I’ve got a date for the exhibition,” Julian said, from behind his easel. “A few weeks after your birthday. Short notice, I know. Soz.”
“Ugh, don’t mention the B word. But that’s exciting! Can I come?”
“Of course you can come,” he said. “It’s why I’m telling you. This wouldn’t be possible without you.”
“I mean, while sitting here is terribly difficult,” she said, “I do feel like you should get some of the credit. Just some.”
She heard him laugh.
She’d grown to love Julian’s laugh; he was so ready to do it, at least in their sessions.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard Camille laugh at something she said. Then again, she wasn’t sure the last time she and Camille had spent all that much time together.
By the time Camille got back from a day of teaching, Annabelle was usually already out for the night shift at the pub she waited in. Yet another thing in her life that wasn’t working like it was supposed to!
Camille said that could be worked on if, hey, Annabelle was willing to actually prioritise their relationship.
It had been one of their worst arguments to date.
“There’ll be thirty paintings in total, I think,” he mused, more talkative than normal. “Yours being the main one, like I said.”
“I’m sure you will perfectly capture the raw turmoil of turning thirty.”
He laughed again. It had been one of the most notable reviews of his first exhibition – except the exact wording had been that his work perfectly captured ‘the raw turmoil of adolescence, as an emotional and nostalgic period of change and growth’.
He’d finally caved and showed her some of his previous pieces, other than the ones she’d managed to find online, as a compromise of his refusal to show her how his painting of her was coming along.
Most of the individual pieces from his first exhibit had been sold off, but he’d kept the main one.
His main piece – Girl On Swing – got the most praise, so it had apparently been a bit of a scandal that he hadn’t sold it. He’d had offers.
It was a triptych (Julian’s word) of a girl, unsurprisingly, on a swing.
In the first of three paintings she was a child, carefree and giggling. In the second, a young teenager, her face a storm of emotion. In the final one, she was a young adult, caught mid-leap flying off the swing she’d been sitting on for seemingly eighteen years. Her arms were painted halfway to transitioning to a bird’s wings. She was no longer looking back at the viewer but forward, to all that life had to offer.
Annabelle wondered what people would say about Julian’s version of her.
People liked to fantasise about how amazing being a teenager was when they were an adult, but she hadn’t met anyone who fantasied about turning thirty. It wasn’t nearly as glamorous.
She hoped he made her glamorous.
“Of course,” he was continuing, “with the date so near, we might need a few more sessions to get finished on time.”
She looked over at him again, then, even if she wasn’t supposed to be moving.
The golden light danced across his handsome features, and caught the edges of the canvases behind him. There were twenty nine of them waiting.
“I make a pretty good lasagne,” he said, biting his lip. “If I say so myself. Compensation. If you don’t mind finishing late. There’s also a nice wine I got for Christmas that I really couldn’t drink alone.”
“I don’t mind,” she heard herself saying, before she’d even thought about it. “I don’t mind at all.”
“It’s a good venue,” he said. “A really good venue. Everyone’s going to love you.”
With him, maybe, the window wouldn’t close.
***
“I’m done, except for the varnish.”
The words sent a bolt through her, stirring away the sleepy content that came with posing for an extended period of time. She felt seen. Now, though, she wanted to see. Finally.
It was the day before her thirtieth birthday, and Camille had a massive surprise party planned, that Annabelle was both pretending that she didn’t know about, and dreading like a punch to the gut.
It was sweet that Camille was doing it. But also, maybe, if she didn’t celebrate the date she could still, somehow, be in her twenties for another year. That was how it worked, right?
“You are?” She leapt off the stool, and felt her joints click. “Can I see? I feel like I should have a right to see before everyone else. I won’t tell anyone.”
“It is top secret.” He pretended to consider.
She took the opportunity to relish actually looking at him for once; there was a kiss of red on the cuff of his painting shirt that hadn’t yet dried. It was the exact colour of her lipstick. She smiled.
He really had left her mouth for last.
“Fine,” he said, and gestured her over, eyes bright with amusement. “But only because I know you won’t tell.”
In the short space of walking over, Annabelle had time to feel her stomach clench. Her old fears boiled nauseously to the surface.
What if it was awful?
What if it wasn’t what she wanted, as if that had ever been the point?
What if her immortality looked like the part-time waitress she didn’t want to be?
She would have to keep a straight face, and not hurt his feelings. He’d been working on it for so long. It would ruin everything if he knew she hated it. It would no doubt be technically very skilled. She should have researched painting techniques she could comment on.
She rounded the easel, a little dizzy.
His hand fell on the small of her back, thumb tracing the curve of her hip, idly almost.  
She stared.
Her painted self was lovely. So alive, as if thirty couldn’t possibly contain her.
It was not as realistic as ‘Girl On Swing’ though.
She was caught in the motion of talking, hands gesturing animatedly in the air despite her best efforts of posing, and though her face was turned towards the light of the window it was as clear as confession that her eyes were always turning towards him, trying to steal a glimpse.
She looked at him, at the viewer, like he was the best thing she had ever seen.
Camille would see the painting too.
She had already said that she had to come to the opening, especially ‘after all the time her girlfriend had spent with this Julian fellow instead of her.’
Annabelle swallowed.
The perfect bubble burst.
She released a shaky breath, abruptly more aware of his hand through the thin material of her dress.
They hadn’t done anything.
Even the night when she ended up staying over at his, after lasagne and wine, they hadn’t done anything.
The painting made it look like they had, though. She wasn’t even sure she could accuse Julian of exactly making it up, either.
He had painted the truth. Raw. Even when it would have been politer to hide it.
“Oh,” she said. “Wow. Um. Julian—”
“Happy Birthday,” he murmured. “For tomorrow.”
His hand moved up to the back of her neck and all of the colours of the painting swirled and rushed forward to meet her.
“Oh, and Annabelle?” His voice sounded very far away. “This is the bit where you stop talking.”
***
Annabelle had been thirty for nearly a month. Well, not exactly.
They all said that she looked amazing. So realistic.
She couldn’t move. She couldn’t feel her body. But, she could watch, from her frame.
She’d watched as Julian approached her with a paintbrush dipped in varnish – to seal the work – and she’d watched with her world turned sideways as they carried her canvas from the studio to the gallery.
She’d watched as they hung her up on the wall and made comments about her like she wasn’t there at all.
She’d screamed, too, or tried to. They hadn’t been able to hear her.
Julian had approached her again when they were alone, hands in his pockets, perfectly relaxed and pleased with himself.
“It’s a good trick, isn’t it? I’ve always had the knack of turning people into portraits.” He’d flashed her the same quick, reassuring smile he always did as he peered up at her. “As I said, it’s all about getting to know the person. Getting them to pour their soul out to you.”
He’d laughed, like he so often did, only this time it was at his own joke instead of hers. Or maybe she had always been the joke. 
“I did worry for a moment that I wouldn’t be finished in time. But, don’t worry. We made it. You’re twenty-nine forever! Just like you wanted. Just like I promised. I’m not that cruel.”
She’d wanted to tell him that this was not what she’d wanted. She wanted to ask a million questions. She wanted to punch him.
Instead, Annabelle watched as Camille stepped into the exhibition room, on opening night.
She watched Camille scan the crowd, feverishly, expecting her to be there.
She watched as Camille’s attention snagged on the vast painting of her across the room.
God, Camille.
Her girlfriend made a beeline over. It had been an age since Annabelle had last looked at her, properly looked at her, hadn’t it?
Camille’s face crumpled a little as she studied the portrait; a myriad of regret and fear and confusion. Hurt. Her eyes were red and swollen like she’d been crying. She raised one hand towards Annabelle’s life-sized face, as if to touch, but didn’t. Her fists curled at her sides instead.
Guilt twisted in Annabelle’s gut. Camille looked exactly like how one might when learning that their girlfriend had cheated on them.
She felt an absurd surge of hope, despite everything, that Camille might see her where no one other than Julian had. The portrait, for all of its intimacies, suggested a grand love affair. People didn’t vanish fairly from grand love affairs, they just didn’t! It was suspicious, right? He was the last person to see her. The proof was in the painting!
Camille stared at her for a moment longer, her jaw set with grim determination. Then she scrubbed a hand over her face. Her shoulders hunched against some unbearable, undefinable weight. Her dark hair was greasy with worry.
“I’ll find you,” Camille still whispered. “I swear, I’ll find you.”
Annabelle’s stomach sank.
“No, Camille—” Of course, the words didn't come out. Nothing did.
She’d had been such an idiot, hadn’t she?
She felt a fresh stab of longing for that surprise birthday party.
How long had they waited for her to arrive? Waited for her.
Had Camille reported her missing? There would be no body to find, no evidence. The painting, the wanting limited eyes she looked out of, felt like a mockery.
Maybe the life she had with Camille hadn’t been perfect, not by a long shot, but at least they’d been alive. At least they’d been real.
Camille began to turn away.
“Please.” Annabelle’s voice broke. “I’m so sorry. I’m here, please. Don’t leave me! Camille!”
More attendees bustled to claim prime spot in front of the painting, murmuring about how talented Julian was, speculating on if Annabelle was his lover. Camille flinched.
“It makes me feel,” one of gallery attendees said, “like I’m interrupting them in a private moment, you know? Of course, it’s so Julian that she’s not actually a nude—”
She couldn’t see Camille anymore.
She was never going to see Camille again, was she?
CAMILLE. CAMILLE. CAMILLE.
Annabelle screamed it with everything she had, every atom of her, with the absolute certainty that if her girlfriend walked out the gallery door that Annabelle would never escape the painting.
She would never get to say sorry, or kiss Camille, or tell her properly that nothing had happened or would ever have happened, despite what she may have let her foolish heart feel.
She’d just liked the way he looked at her.
She didn’t want to stop the clock.
She wanted her life back, to live.
The painting hit the floor of the exhibition with an almighty crash.
Everyone scattered back. Red wine spilled like a crime scene against the polished floor.
Camille whirled back around too, alone a few metres away, her eyes wide and startled.
Julian appeared, clutching a glass of champagne in one hand.
“Goddamn these hooks. Who set this up? It’s a hazard. Everyone alright?” He looked around at his adoring fans, and summoned up a rueful smile. “I should have just got eyes to follow you all around the room instead, huh?” He looked down at her, where she stared up, in the same narrow periphery vision he’d painted her with. “Really leaned into the photorealism.”
Past him, past his taunts, Camille looked between the two of them. Uncertain misery flashed across her features once more. She opened her mouth, as if to say something, before closing it.
Annabelle willed her painted self to move again too, to speak, to do anything. She willed Camille to question, to press, to not give up on them and on her. Not now.
“Camille!” Julian had caught sight of her too, and straightened. He gestured for one of the gallery employees to get Annabelle back into position. “I’m so glad you could make it! Is Annabelle not with you? She was so excited for the exhibition…”
“You haven’t seen her?” Camille’s voice broke. “I – I thought she’d be here, at least. With you.”
“With me?” Julian spoke mildly. Innocently. “No, no. I haven’t seen her. I thought she was with you. Is something wrong?” His tone gentled, as he walked towards Camille. “She mentioned you’d been having some problems…”
“No – it wasn’t like that – Camille—”
Crowds swarmed Annabelle’s painted self once more. She was lifted back on the wall, as if nothing had happened.
"Let me get you a drink," Julian said. "You can tell me everything."
She caught a glimpse of Julian's arm wrapped around Camille's waist. The way she leaned into him, looked up at him. His lips by her ear.
"Camille—"
By the time the room cleared, they were already gone.
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bestygogirl · 8 months
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BEST YGO GIRL: SEMI FINALS
Match 2
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please use this as an opportunity to say why you like a character, not why you don't.
Propaganda under the cut!
Isis Ishtar
gorgeous, very caring sister, strong duelist, and the only woman to ever make Seto Kaiba squirm
anyways. not only as mentioned above is she the first woman to make kaiba squirm, but she was by all means going to beat him if not for the millennium rod's millennium interference. yami marik admits that she's a strong duelist with a strategy that's been working for literal years-- and given that she's not like, a professional duelist, thats pretty impressive
she also recently got some really cool meta bumps and let me point out that an "ishizu deck" now includes obelisk the tormentor-- which we knew she had prior to giving it to kaiba, but i think it only solidifies my opinion that she very much could wield an Egyptian God Card, an exclusive little club for top tier duelists
as a character she presents herself with an amazing amount of poise and grace, shes compassionate and kind and stays with mai and serenity even though she only just met them. shes struggling through living the past 5 years of her life drowning in guilt for her family's tragedy just because she wanted to make her little brother happy and shadi is a fucking liar. shes foretold her own death and marches towards it grimly but with so much love in her heart. and even then shes 20 years old and holds an important position in the egyptian government that typically requires a doctorate degree AND has been dealing with mariks off-and-on bullshit entirely by her lonesome. she also likes to flex her fortunetelling a little which is awesome i think she should do that more that scene where she tells the guy exactly how the stele is being transported was so everything
speaking of shes got such an attitude. "is it your destiny to waste my time?" iconic. never seen before will never be seen again. watch the duel between her va and joeys its so fucking funny
shes excult. shes doesnt flinch in the face of god nor death. seto kaiba and yami marik respect her. shes so sad and so sweet and battle city couldnt have happened without her.
also her parallels with kaiba are what motivate kaiba to give yugi the card he needed to beat marik.
kaiba, in duelist kingdom, was ready to jump off a ledge if yugi didnt let him through to face pegasus while trying to save mokuba out of sheer desperation to save his little brother. he KNOWS what that dedication feels like and the iron kind of will you need to have to make that kind of gamble. isis is being so fucking legit with what shes saying and he respects that and her judgement enough to change his mind and not only watch the duel, but give yugi a card that eventually helps him win, even if he has no real confidence in the odds. but theres a CHANCE, which is the same thing he taught her when he beat her in a duel. the layers its her faith that moves him to act. which is so crazy
anyway vote isis shes my best friend forever and a real rep for all the 20 year olds who honest to god did not sign up for this bullshit
Aki Izayoi
An abuse victim who isn't the perfect passive figure but gets to work through her complicated feelings about power, agency, and family. Even with Yusei's help, she is the star of the show when she learns to control her powers and reconciles with her father, it is so fun that a ygo heroine gets to take such an antagonistic role bu not be shamed for her anger
please vote for my main girl, aki izayoi. aki was led to believe she was a monster from a young age by her father, who treated her powers like it made her unworthy of love. as a result, divine was able to swoop in and take advantage of aki's low self esteem. for years, aki believed herself unworthy of love and was molded into a living weapon at the hands of authority figures in her life. she was taken advantage of, and thus when she finally comes face to face with yusei, she refuses to believe he could provide her with unconditional friendship. who would want to be around a monster, after all?
aki also nearly beats yusei TWICE in a duel, bringing it down to a single turn difference. she comes toe to toe with him, and it truly is the result of who dueled better. she remains a fierce duelist, btw. the second season, aki gets her duel runner license, and immediately nearly beats the ass of a tournament winning turbo duelist - to the point where once again, a single card is the deciding factor. that's right: she nearly won. if not for a single trap card, aki izayoi would've won.
a fierce duelist who was shaped into a loving, caring woman despite years of being beaten down by the world: aki izayoi. vote for her now on your phones.
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missrosiesworld · 1 month
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Hi! I really like your crush fics from zzz! I was wondering if you could do one for either Nicole or Anby? Whoever you prefer. That would be amazing! Totally understandable if you’d rather not tho! No pressure :)
Hi~ 👋🏼 Thank you for the ask 😊 I sure can do Nicole! Here are some cute headcanons about Nicole when she has a crush:
Subtle Generosity: Nicole, known for being stingy, suddenly starts treating her crush to little things, like snacks or small trinkets, using the excuse of "leftovers" or "extra stock." It’s her way of showing affection without being obvious.
Nicole: "Hey, I had some extra snacks lying around, thought you might like them." She casually tosses a small bag of treats onto the table, trying to act indifferent.
Crush: "Thanks, Nicole! This is really thoughtful of you."
Nicole: "Yeah, well… Don't get used to it." She shrugs, but a faint smile tugs at the corner of her lips.
Clumsy Cunning: Normally sharp and quick-witted, Nicole finds herself stumbling over her words or making silly mistakes when her crush is around. She’ll try to play it off with her usual cunning, but it’s clear she’s off her game.
Nicole: "So, uh, I… I was thinking… maybe we could… I mean, if you’re not busy—" She suddenly drops her pen, cursing under her breath as she scrambles to pick it up.
Crush: "Sure, I’d love to. What were you thinking?"
Nicole: "Oh, um, just… you know, a quick… discussion. About work." She finally retrieves the pen, her cheeks slightly flushed.
Extra Protective: Nicole’s protective instincts kick into high gear. She’ll casually inquire about her crush’s safety and well-being, and if they’re ever in trouble, she’ll drop everything to help, though she’ll insist it’s just business.
Nicole: "I heard there’s been some trouble in that part of town. You’re not planning on going there alone, are you?" Her voice is firm, almost commanding.
Crush: "I was, but I can handle it."
Nicole: "No way. I’ll come with you. Just… to make sure nothing goes wrong." She crosses her arms, leaving no room for argument.
Doodles in the Ledger: Her agency’s ledger, normally filled with serious notes and financial records, starts to have little doodles in the margins—hasty sketches of her crush, hearts, or the two of them together. She’d be mortified if anyone found out.
Nicole: "Where did I put that… Oh, here it is!" She quickly flips the ledger closed, but not before a small sketch of her crush catches their eye.
Crush: "What was that?"
Nicole: "Nothing! Just… just some random doodles. Nothing important." She tries to change the subject, her heart racing.
Awkward Invitations: Nicole awkwardly tries to invite her crush to hang out, often under the guise of "business meetings". She’ll overcompensate by being overly professional, even though it’s clear she just wants to spend time with them.
Nicole: "So, I was thinking… maybe we should, uh, discuss our next job… over dinner?" She fiddles with her nails, trying to sound nonchalant.
Crush: "Dinner sounds great. Are you thinking somewhere specific?"
Nicole: "Yeah, I mean, no… I mean, we could go wherever. It’s just business, after all." She forces a casual shrug, though her pulse quickens.
Uncharacteristic Generosity: Despite her usual financial struggles, Nicole doesn’t hesitate to spend what little money she has on things that might impress or help her crush.
Nicole: "I noticed you were looking at this the other day, so… here." She hands over a small, but expensive, item, avoiding eye contact.
Crush: "Nicole, this is… I don’t know what to say. Thank you."
Nicole: "Don’t mention it. Just… take care of it, okay?" She brushes it off with a wave, but her heart swells with pride.
Eager to Impress: Nicole goes out of her way to show off her skills and knowledge around her crush, whether it’s her street smarts, negotiation tactics, or even her (admittedly lacking) financial acumen. She wants to make sure they see her at her best.
Nicole: "You know, I managed to negotiate that deal down by 30%. Not bad, right?" She leans against the doorframe, a confident smirk on her face.
Crush: "That’s really impressive, Nicole. You’re a natural."
Nicole: "Well, I’ve been doing this for years. You pick up a thing or two." She tries to sound humble, but the compliment makes her beam inside.
Overthinking Everything: Normally decisive, Nicole starts overthinking every interaction with her crush. She’ll replay conversations in her head, analyzing every word and gesture, trying to figure out if her crush feels the same way.
Nicole: "So when you said you liked working with me, did you mean… you know, like in general, or like… specifically?" She tries to sound casual, but there’s a hint of nervousness in her voice.
Crush: "I meant it in every way. You’re great to work with, Nicole."
Nicole: "Oh, okay. Cool. That’s… good to know." She nods, biting her lip as she mentally replays the conversation for the tenth time.
Secretive Smiles: Nicole, who usually keeps a cunning smirk, starts smiling more often when thinking about or interacting with her crush. These smiles are softer and more genuine, something she’s not used to showing.
Crush: "Nicole, did you hear what I said?"
Nicole: "Huh? Oh, yeah, I heard you." She quickly snaps out of her thoughts, a soft smile lingering on her lips. "I was just thinking about how things have been going lately."
Crush: "Good thoughts, I hope?" They raise an eyebrow, curious about the smile.
Nicole: "Yeah, surprisingly good." She glances at them with a warm, almost shy smile before focusing back on the task at hand, the smile still tugging at her lips.
Unexpected Sweetness: Known for her sharp tongue, Nicole starts slipping in unexpected compliments or sweet comments directed at her crush. It catches even her off guard, and she quickly tries to cover it up with a joke or a change of subject.
Crush: "I’m not sure if I did this right. Can you check it for me, Nicole?"
Nicole: "You doubt yourself too much," she says, her voice unusually gentle as she looks over their work. "You're more capable than you give yourself credit for."
Crush: "Thanks, Nicole. That means a lot coming from you."
Nicole: "Don't let it go to your head," she quips, though there’s a softness in her eyes. "But yeah, you did great." She quickly looks away, trying to hide the hint of sweetness that slipped into her tone.
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lazydoodlesandfanfic · 8 months
Text
Fate's Plans (Wanda Maximoff X Male!Reader)
Characters: Wanda Maximoff X Male!Reader
Universe: Marvel, Avengers (Takes place sometime after AOU)
Warnings: Pregnancy, vague mentions of birth, bit of swearing
Could you write Wanda x male!reader, it’s just fluff really if that’s ok. Wanda and the reader find out they’re pregnant and the fic’s about their time throughout the pregnancy and after their child is born. Maybe the reader kinda freaks out a bit and Wanda finds it really funny/cute.
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There were a lot of people who believed that finding true love was an act of fate. If it happened to you, you’d know immediately, and it would become a story to tell your kids and grandkids beside the person you were destined to grow old with. Wanda was one of those people. She believed with all her whole heart that her parents' meeting was fate, even if it meant that they would die young, leaving behind her and Pietro. However, she also believed that this fate wasn’t ever going to happen to her. Life was too cruel- why would life beat her down so hard so far just to throw her a bone now? And she was okay with that. She believed this so hard, that it actually took her a while to realise that she was wrong. Fate did have other plans for her, and the love of her life was already with her.
Wanda only realised it was you, was when she watched you excitedly calling her name repeatedly, getting a little quieter as you got close and closer, beaming as you proceeded to hand her a cloth bag that fit in her hand, and watched excitedly as she opened it, finding several stones, shells and even sea glass, and you went on to explain that on your PTO (Because you’d gotten injured on a mission and should have been resting) you’d gone to the coast with some family and gathered some trinkets because you thought she’d like it. She didn’t like it. She loved it, and she loved that you had thought of her and did this. That’s why immediately after, she asked you to dinner, and your eyes widened, not expecting that, before stuttering out an acceptance.
She was surprised it took her so long for herself to realise how special you were. You were an agent of SHIELD, and had been for two years, starting just a year after Wanda became an Avenger. Being young, and a rookie, you got a lot of teasing, especially from people like Clint and Tony, but you took it all in your stride and with a smile. You were always kind, eager to help, which on first appearance made you appear a bit of an airhead or gullible, but oh boy, was that wrong- Tony learnt that the hard way, when he tried to prank you by putting you in charge of checking over his security software for any faults, bugs, or cyber attacks, him already having it planned out for you to be overwhelmed and for FRIDAY to mimic an actual attack to scare you, only for you to handle it, and actually catch a bug in the system. All of which you announced to Tony in front of several other Avengers, including Wanda. Not long after, you ended up being assigned on a mission with Natasha, Clint and Steve, and come back with the three gobsmacked, and then tell a story of you being the most competent and well trained agent any of them had actually worked with. That kind of complimentary talk really boosts you up the ranks, it turns out, and soon Wanda was able to see it first hand. 
But out of missions, you were that kind, slightly silly person. You always asked about her day, complimented her on her recent mission, and eventually, you began giving gifts- getting her coffee in the morning, then also a bit of breakfast, then snacks, and eventually your gifts moved from food and drinks to finding DVDs of obscure movies she mentioned wanting to watch again, or fixing things for her in your down time. Your sewing skills on her cardigans and skirts were far from professional, but they worked as intended, and it was a lovely gesture. Wanda practically slapped herself when she realised these were your ways of trying to show you liked her.
As soon as you two actually started dating, everything just clicked. Your acts of love and affection didn’t slow down at all, except now the coffee and breakfast was something you grabbed together, you kept her favourite snacks at yours for when she came over, and she did the same for you, and dates between you was basically anytime you two got to be alone together- which was whenever you two had time after work, or after a mission, where you two just cuddled and relaxed after it all. The only real problem was the part where you two would be at work and be teased by your team for being kids in love, but it was all in good fun. The team was fully supportive. They saw how happy you made Wanda, and how well you two clicked. It was worth the aww’s and teasing whenever you told each other you loved each other or shared a look across a room. This did get a little better though when you two actually moved in together a year and half into your relationship, though now the team would regularly question when you two were gonna get married already.
Imagine the team's surprise when Wanda announced that she was going on desk work for the next few months- because you two were having a baby. 
“You know, there’s still time for a shotgun wedding.” Tony commented, walking past Wanda as she was sitting reading a mission report, also enjoying some baby carrots, the bowl balanced on her belly that had grown a lot the last few months. 
“Not happening Tony. Knowing my luck, I’ll go into labour while saying my vows.” She commented, not looking up. 
“You don’t even have to walk down an aisle or anything- we get you a white dress, get Y/N in a suit- can’t Captains officiate weddings? I own boats, that counts, right?” Tony questioned.
“Tony, we know you just want another party. I have no clue how you’re still functioning after what you pulled at the baby shower.” Natasha commented, coming in the room to give Wanda new forms, before taking the ones from her. “Now leave her alone, before I tell Clint.” She warned. Tony raised his hands in surrender, before leaving the room. “Now you.” 
“I haven’t done anything.” Wanda defended. 
“Other than you’re supposed to be working from home? You’re due any day now.” Natasha pointed out. 
“Exactly- Y/N got dragged off to that mission the other day and isn’t back yet- if I go into labour at home, I’m by myself.” She pointed out. 
“And if Y/N finds out you’re not following doctor’s orders, he’s gonna be irate.” She pointed out. Wanda knew she was right. Ever since Wanda had shown you the test results, you somehow became even more affectionate, even more loving, but also now protective. You always tried to not be overbearing on her and get on her nerves- she was the one actually going through it after all. You made sure her snack stash, which adjusted to her cravings, was always well stocked. As the pregnancy progressed, you switched chores- her doing any that she could do with minimal moving or while sat on a stool, and you did anything that would cause her any back pain. You set the nursery up together, you doing the painting, and Wanda put together most of the furniture, not having to do any heavy lifting thanks to her powers, though every few weeks you could come home to the nursery reorganised because she wasn’t happy about some aspects of it- the cot too far away from the door, the chair too far away from the cot, the cot and chair are too close together. Eventually she settled on a layout.
When Wanda entered her 3rd Trimester, was when you became a true worrier. If she showed any discomfort, you were by her side to try and help, and with every day closer to the due date, Wanda could tell you were getting more anxious- she blamed all the books and research you did pretty early on in her pregnancy, which led you down a rabbit hole about risks and worst case scenarios, though you didn’t want to talk about it with her- as to not worry her. That stress really showed when you found out about your current mission, and Wanda saw you actually raise your voice at Fury for sending you on it, knowing the situation. In the end, Fury could not reassign who was on the mission, but he did extend your leave after the baby’s birth by 2 months. Wanda promised to keep the baby in till you came back, and Natasha, Clint and Bruce promised to look after Wanda and also to keep Tony on a leash.
“Have you heard anything from them on how the mission’s going?” Wanda inquired, trying to change the subject. 
“Got a vague text from Steve saying ‘nearly done’ early this morning, but other than that, nothing, but knowing how effective Steve, Thor and Y/N work together, I’m expecting them back tonight.” She told Wanda. “In other words, you have until tonight to get home, or I'm telling.” 
“I can handle Y/N being a little annoyed at me being here- I want to see him as soon as he gets back, not a second longer.” Wanda decided, resting her head back in her chair. Natasha felt a buzz in her pocket, pulling her phone out, before grinning and putting it away. 
“Well better get moving- they’re already landing.” 
You were exhausted from the mission, but eager to get off the jet and get to Wanda. You didn’t like the idea on her being alone, both in the day and at night while due any moment- you heard a lot of labours start at night, and you’d had a nightmare while on your mission of Wanda waking up in the middle of the night with contractions, no one answering her calls because they were asleep, and an ambulance not getting to her for hours. You didn’t want that, so the best spot for you was by her side.
As soon as Steve landed the plane, you were off it, stripping off harnesses, belts and gear as you walked, rushing inside the building for the quicked debrief which you planned to mostly consist of ‘I’ll do the paperwork later’ talk, only to spot Wanda shuffling towards you, right beside Natasha, who sent an apologetic smile. You dumped your gear on the spot and ran to her. “You okay? What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be resting.” You fussed, taking Wanda in your arms, seeing her face for any discomfort- any sign she was having contractions or in labour- but she just smiled back at you. 
“Figured me being here meant having people around, so even if I went into labour, I wouldn’t be alone.” She pointed out. You sighed, your shoulders relaxing, the comment actually soothing that horrible thought that had been haunting your dreams. It was almost like-
“Have you been reading my mind again?” You asked her. 
“Only when your thoughts are so loud, I can hear them without telepathy. You worry too much, my love.” She told you, resting her hand on your cheek. 
“And now that you’re home- go take her home before we have to have Bruce deliver your kid- I’m not sure if Bruce could handle that stress. I’ll handle the debrief and Fury. Enjoy your last few days of peace for the next few years.” Steve commented as he walked past you both. You jokingly saluted him, and did as told. 
As soon as you got home, got Wanda settled and got the chores done that needed to be done, you joined your girlfriend in your bed, putting on one of the old DvDs of an old sitcom Wanda loved that she got you addicted to as well. “Tony giving you any trouble?” You asked. 
“Other than wanting us to have a shotgun wedding so he can get as wasted as he did at our baby shower? No… how did he even get that drunk?” Wanda asked. 
“If I had to guess… Thor and his flask of Asguardian alcohol. But then again I wouldn’t put it past him to figure out where we ordered our chocolates and got alcohol laced ones and ate them all to himself… can you imagine him getting drunk at our daughter’s Christmas Nativity? Or her toddler ballet classes?” You humoured, making Wanda laugh. 
“Oh, I think you mean our son’s Christmas Nativity and his toddler ballet classes. This, is a boy.” She said, tapping her stomach. 
“Hmmm, I still think for a girl, little Wanda Jr.” You told her, leaning over to kiss her bump. 
“If it is a girl, we are not calling her Wanda Jr.” She grinned, and you hummed. “You sure you’re okay with Pietro for a boy?” She asked. 
“Of course I am. Has been since we talked about it 6 months ago. Hell if it is a girl, we can have Petra, or something.” You suggested, wrapping an arm around her. “I wish I could have met him. I bet he would have been the best uncle… and also he’d join Tony in the shotgun wedding idea.” You commented, making her chuckle. 
“Yeah, he would… I think he’d love you though, he’d want us to marry just to gain you as a brother.” She added. “Anyway, one episode, then bed, I’m tired from looking at paper all day, and don’t lie to me about being tired yourself.” She told you. You agreed to that, but ended up falling asleep not even half way through. 
However, you did wake up to Wanda shaking your arm. “Hmm? Yeah? Need water? The bathroom?” You asked on autopilot, before you became more aware of your surroundings, realising Wanda was already out of bed… a bed, that was wet.
“Get dressed and take me to the hospital- my water broke.” She told you, keeping her voice low as she brushed her hair out before clipping it back. You stared at her, processing her words, before it clicked. Hospital. Water. Broke. Labour. Baby. Now. 
“Oh fuck we’re doing this!” You announced, jumping out of bed, rushing to grab clothes from your drawers to get dressed, while Wanda watched you, happy in her pyjamas, slippers and dressing gown as you hurried to get half decent, before grabbing her to-go bag from the chair in the corner, taking her by the arm and escorting outside to drive her to the hospital. “Let me know when you feel a contraction- have you felt any yet? Have you timed them? Your water breaking means it’s gonna speed up.” You requested as you drove. 
“Had a few in bed- thought they were braxton hicks, but then my water broke, so I woke you up. I wasn’t timing them, but I will now- hold on.” She said, her voice becoming strained as she grabbed the door and your arm, and you pulled over and looked at her. “No, drive! Contraction!” She ordered. 
“Oh! Right, sorry!” You apologised, taking off again. Wanda already knew this was going to be an experience, and a story to tell later with you right there. 
Boy was she right. From getting there, to getting her checked into the maternity ward, all attempts to hold back on being dramatically worried was forgotten. At all times, you had some sort of contact with Wanda, whether that was holding her as she walked around, letting her squeeze your hand through contractions, rubbing her back to help with pains, or hugging her and telling her she was doing amazing, you were there. You were there every step of the way, all attention on her, checking in on her, making sure she was as comfortable as she could be, and being a rock. You made the whole thing go as smoothly as they could, and Wanda was thankful for that. She wasn’t sure she could do it without you. But eventually, it was over, and she had her baby in her arms. She looked over at you, sat beside her, arms leant on the siderails, looking at your daughter, mesmerized, before looking up at Wanda. “She’s so small.” You whispered, making her smile. 
“Get over here and hold her, you dork.” She told you, shuffling over as much as she could so you could partially lay with her, taking your daughter in your arms, and looking down at her, before once again turning to Wanda, this time kissing her head.
“My girls. My beautiful girls, my whole world.” You told her, and she smiled, resting her head on you as you got comfortable with your baby, who was sound asleep in your arms, like she’d been the one doing all the hard work. “I knew you were a girl. Dreamt about it all the time- my little girl who looks just like her beautiful mom.” You told the baby in your arms. 
“So, what are we naming her? And don’t say Wanda Jr.” She questioned. 
“Thought we already agreed? Petra, right? Unless you want that as a first name, in which case, we could do what Clint did for you and name her after him. What’s the female version of Clint? Clinton?... Cli-”
“Don’t finish that thought, you’re too sleep deprived. Petra’s fine.” She told you, already seeing where exactly you were going, even if you didn’t. “Anyway, you should probably go tell the others- let Tony know a shotgun wedding is no longer an option but he can throw a party anyway.” She told you.
“Alright, I can do that. Want me to put our baby down to sleep so you can get some rest? I’ll make sure they don’t come around till late morning.” You told her, kissing her head as she nodded, and you put Petra in her cot beside Wanda. 
“And as soon as you’re done, get back here, I want more hugs, even if it’s cramped.” She told you, getting a playful salute like how you had done to Steve earlier, before you grabbed your phone to step out and share the good news. Wanda rolled onto her side to look at her daughter, reaching out to put her arm into her cot, running a finger across her cheek. 
Hope you like it! I wrote this in about 2-3 hours in one sitting so if there's mistakes please let me know. If you have any questions, please send them in!
*Not my gif
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