#i kept running far away and she kept showing up even in the back of the store when i was looking in the car section

[hogwartslegacyreactions2]

Hello i just discovered your blog and i love it but may i request an MC who was a child of a brutally war and had like 3-5 younger siblings who died in the war and one day when they are walking around a pure-blood said something along the lines of "OH their Siblings deserved to die" and MC just losses it and straights up punch the pure-blood in the face and knocking them out, how would the HCL +Professor's react to mc in that situation? (Btw I'm sorry if this is a too sensitive topic u don't have to write it if u don't want to, XOXO have a good day or night)

A/N: not to worry, that's what the warnings are for.

HLC REACT TO MC PUNCHING A BULLY

WARNING: MC has PTSD, terrorism, blood racism, hurt/comfort

It was less of a war and more of a massacre. The slaying of muggleborns in the 1885 attack was terroristic and unjust. MC was the only survivor of their family. Their siblings were gone. All that was left was the screaming in MC's head. The screaming that kept them up at night. The screaming that told them to run....to hide...

The pure blood student laid on the floor, holding his nose. Blood poured out as the student whined. MC stood over them, fists clenched. MC's knuckles were already bruising from the force of the hit. Their breathing was fast and irregular. Their eyes were wide and blank, they seemed a thousand miles away.

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: He'd never seen MC move so fast. Before he could tell the instigator off himself, MC threw themselves at them and punched with enough force to break bricks. He doesn't realize the state MC's in at first, laughing and jeering at the bleeding bully.

Until he notices MC isn't laughing with him. They're strangely quiet. Shaking. He hears a Professor coming and he steers MC away from the scene. "MC? What's going on with you? ..MC?" He gets a closer look at their face and sees silent tears flowing from their wide eyes. He's seen this face before, on Anne after they found their parents dead.

He takes MC's good hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. "MC. Come back to me. Come back to now. The pain is in the past, don't let it halt your future." He gently talks MC down from their episode and stays with them until they insist they're fine. Even then, he's hard to get rid of.

OMINIS GAUNT: He swears he heard bons breaking when MC's fist collided with the bully. He knew a staff member wouldn't be far away from the commotion and he immediately dragged MC away. "You shouldn't have resorted to physical violence. What that bastard said wasn't acceptable, but now you could be facing detention or worse! That sort of behavior is brutish! Just jinx them like anyone else, at the very least. ..MC?"

He'd just realized MC wasn't talking, not even trying to defend their actions. "MC..? I need you to talk to me. What's going on?" Silence. MC was as still as a statue. Their hand was clammy in his. "What they said....there's more to it, isn't there?" He didn't know the full story, but MC's silence was too loud to ignore.

He takes them to the undercroft to recover in peace and talk to them privately about what really happened.

ANNE SALLOW: She had her wand out but MC's fist was faster. "That's exactly what you deserve!" She huffs and grabs MC's good hand. "Let's go, before staff show up." She walks with them a while before asking about their hand. "Are you alright? You hit them pretty hard." She examines MC's hand. It was heavily bruised and possibly broken, but nothing a healing potion wouldn't fix.

She looks into MC's eyes and they seem to look through her. "MC? MC, it's alright. You're alright. You don't have to fight anymore. The danger has passed." She speaks soothingly until they seem themselves again. She hugs them if they let her. She has the strongest urge to comfort and cuddle.

IMELDA REYES: She sees red. How. Fucking. DARE they! MC swings once but she keeps the pain train rolling. She kicks them in the ribs. She curb stomps their stomach. She pushes them down the nearest flight of stairs and spits in their direction as they roll away.

It takes more than a minute for her to calm down and realize MC hadn't moved or said anything. "Hey...you good?" She's still breathing heavily from the adrenaline. "Let's get out of here." She gets them out to the flying lawn and pulls out her broom. "You going to use yours?" MC complied and pulled out theirs but still hasn't said anything or changed their blank expression.

"Follow me." She leads them to a high cliff away from the castle and the noise. "This is where I come to think...or scream. You look like you could do both right about now."

NATSAI ONAI: She uses depulso without her wand and the bully slides across the floor far away from them. She looks at MC with great concern. "You don't look so good. I have never seen you attack someone like that, even over pure blood nonsense. What was it they said that got to you?"

MC's tears come and it breaks her heart. MC was hurting in a bad way, she could see it in their eyes. "You were there, weren't you? This attack they mentioned." MC breaks into sobs and their knees give out. She catches them before they hit the floor and holds them close. "I am here. I am here, MC. I will not let anyone hurt you. Never again."

GARRETH WEASLEY: His eye twitches and he has to hold back the urge to bring out his wand. He couldn't curse the bully without risk, but he could do something. He drops a small green bottle on the bully's lap. "Here. It'll clear up the nose bleed. Come on, MC." He, somewhat forcefully, pushes MC away and leads them around the corner.

He smiles to himself when screams echoed down the corridor. The boils the potion gave the bully would last for weeks and be horrifically painful. "Got exactly what was coming. What does that git think he's trying to prove? Many purebloods are accepting of muggleborns. The terrorist attack all those years ago was a small extremist group and they're ALL in Azkaban or dead."

He talks and talks and talks, going off on tangents and eventually forgetting what he started talking about. It's not that he never noticed MC having a hard time, he just thought if he could distract them from it instead of drawing attention to it, he would be of more help.

AMIT THAKKAR: He's so shocked by what the bully said that he doesn't even process MC punching the daylights out of them. He just watches the bully writhe in pain on the ground. He's as still and silent as MC. Both processing what just happened.

LEANDER PREWETT: "Levioso! Descendo!" His magic throws the bully helplessly into the air and then slams them back down. They'd be lucky if they didn't have multiple broken bones. He pockets his wand and takes MC's hand. "Come on."

He takes them outside for some air. MC's outburst then sudden silence was unnerving him. "What happened in there?" He asked calmly. "He mentioned siblings of yours? Was he taking the mick or...?" His unfinished sentence hing in the air between them.

MC finally focused on him, years starting to stream down their cheeks. He could see it in their eyes, real pain. The kind of pain that makes you shut down. He doesn't know what to do so he holds their good hand and looks back into their eyes. "You're going to be alright."

"Maybe we should go..." He eventually says and he starts to walk away. MC follows and they walk in silence all the way up the astronomy tower. In the clear and cool air, they take a simultaneous deep breath. "People are rotting no matter where you go. Be it skin or blood or belief. The human superiority complex never ceases to disgust. At the very least, know that you have a friend in me, MC. I'm with you."

EVERETT CLOPTON: He throws a fogging dung bomb and he and MC escape the commotion. "Good on ya for putting that twat in his place! If you ask me, you should have just cursed them, but a punch will do." He laughs as he takes MC to a more secluded corridor.

He doesn't realize MC isn't okay until he tries to give them another one of his special dung bombs "for emergencies". Their blank expression first leads him to think they don't like the dung bombs, but when he takes a closer look at their eyes... "Oh...oh Merlin, MC, I'm sorry. I thought they were lying. Your siblings...that's why you...oh..." He awkwardly puts away the bombs and holds out his arms. "Come here, let me make it better."

POPPY SWEETING: "You really showed them. How dare they say such a thing! How horrible of a person do you have to be to believe muggleborns deserve death? Honestly! I can't even imagine what their parents are like." She spits in the bully's general direction and stands with MC as the bully slowly gets up and runs off.

"They're probably going to tell a teacher. Don't worry, I'll be your alibi. They tripped." She smirks and nudges MC with her elbow. She frowns when they don't react. "MC? Hello? Hey!" She waves her hand in front of MC and she gets more worried when MC still doesn't react.

She calms down and takes the time to examine MC's body language. Treating them like a stunned beast, she speaks softly and reassures MC that everything is okay.

[vivwritesfics]

Just need need need a fix abt giving bf!Landon a bracelets that is literally just a bra strap and he wears it to the Ausgp and at first no one notices cz he wears so many bracelets anyway!! And then Oscar is the first to notice and he thinks it’s cute but still makes fun of him for it haha. And then the internet finds out and Lando and reader just cuddle in bed together laughing bc the internet thinks they’re insane/ freaky.

bf coded lando is my favourite lando

"It's bwoken!"

Lando had heard that far too many times since their relationship had started. Any time something in their apartment broke, she'd shout it. At first he rolled his eyes, but he had come to love it.

He stood from his rig and walked into their bedroom. "What is it this time?" He asked as he sat on the bed and looked at her.

With her bra fastened, holding her boobs in place, she showed him the strap. It had snapped away from the back of the bra, handing down off the front.

It was maybe the oldest bra she owned,. She'd had it before she and Lando started dating, when they were just fucking. She'd worn it the first time they were together, back when it was actually nice. Now it served as a reminder of where she and Lando had come from. She kept it out of sentimental reasons.

But now it was broken, and she was so fucking upset about it. "Love," Lando said as though she was being ridiculous. But he saw the pout on her face and opened his arms. "C'mere."

She collapsed into his arms and he unclasped her bra. "We can frame it, if you want," he said, and she slapped his arm.

"Lan, we're not framing my bra," she said as she pulled away from him and dropped the bra into the bed. She got changed into another, grabbed the broken one, and took it to the kitchen.

They had the sewing kit in there. Neither of them were meant to be seamstresses, but they had the kit there in case the needed it. It seemed now, they did.

Lando went back to the sim as she sat at the kitchen table. She used the stitch picker to cleanly get the strap away from the bra. They were going to keep it, at least a part of it.

Lando couldn't help but wonder what she was doing while he raced on the sim. But, even with his mind somewhere else, he was still doing incredibly clean laps.

Maybe ten minutes later she came running into the room. "Hold your hand out," she said as she strode towards him.

Lando did as she asked. He paused mid race and held out his arm towards her. She slid whatever it was onto his wrist and tightened it. As soon as she let go, Lando held it towards his face. "Is this..."

"The broken bra strap? Yeah," she said.

Lando grinned. He grabbed a hold of her and pulled her closer, kissing her quickly. "I love it," he said. "I'll never take it off."

And Lando didn't take it off. Even when the F1 season started, he was still wearing it. Nobody noticed at first. Well, maybe their were a few comments online, but they were overshadowed by comments about his facial hair.

But then Oscar picked up on it.

It was the middle of an interview when Oscar saw it, the red strap highlighted against the microphone. "What the hell is that?" Oscar asked, tapping the microphone against the 'bracelet'.

Lando blushed red and looked at his shoes, the brim of his hat shielding his eyes from the camera. He cleared his throat, steadied himself and held the microphone back to his lips. "My girlfriend made it for me."

Oscar, who hadn't forgetten the 'girlfriend' comment from before the season had started. He grinned as he held his microphone up. He had one, single word for Lando.

"Simp"

[lady-ashfade]

so this one i stole again lol from your list. “Please go on a date with me.”

basically percy notices the reader and tries to impress her by doing crazy ridiculous things but she’s not interested because she thinks his ego is too big. finally she comes around when she sees he got hurt doing something for her to notice him. i hope that makes sense.

Falling for you- Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader

-£ words: 900 words

-£ Warnings: Short story, Simp Percy, cute crushes, reader being a bit mean to him, percy get it hurt, fluffy fic

-£ taglist: @kazurami14 @anonymouslyawesome25 @american-idiot21

the son of poseidon was persistent.

no matter how many times you told him off, or set him running with his head running, or you leaving him alone. he always kept coming back. Percy was often knocking his opponent down in training hoping you’d see him. he did everything to try and get your attention.

his back legs curled around a tree branch where you normally took your daily stroll, he was hanging down with a huge smile on his face and his cheeks glowing red. “percy.” you greeted with a uninterested tone. he just kept that annoying big smile, “lovely day isn’t it?” the only thing you did was roll your eyes and continue to walk down the dirt path. “And you’re ruining it.”

when he first arrived at camp, he already had some sort of glory after defeating a minotaur. he just kept finding his way in danger and saving the day, time after time. but his stupid smirk or smile told you he was too full of himself. he’d making the lake waves move, or make them a shape of something. no matter what, he was showing off.

and boy did you hate it.

somehow he find his way to you and that annoyed you, it was just too much. honestly you didn’t even realize he was trying to get your attention and just thought he was showing off to everyone. and certainly you didn’t know he had a crush on you. all you noticed was his ego.

but he noticed everything about you.

the way you walked, if you held your head up high or at the ground. how pretty your face shined when the sun shined on it, and how your smile shined even brighter. he was constantly chasing after you, he was craving to get your attention. most of the time he just did what popped up in his head which for someone like him, and you, was always dangerous and over the top. he lacked self control.

how someone could be so beautiful he couldn’t understand. even when you fought, he was entranced. you could be the worst fighter and he’d stare at you like the stars in the sky. his heart belonged to you.

but this time, he had gone to far.

“you’re a idiot,” you push his head under the water as you clothes get wetter by the second of sitting in the water. the bruising on his skin and the cuts going along with it only made your heart ache worse. his stunt didn’t go so well this time, hints his fracture wrist. he took a deep breath as he came back up even though he could breath under the water. he just wasn’t thinking straight.

sitting yourself back down on the sand you click your tongue. he had challenged you to a fight with that same attitude, the same smirk, the same slick tone. he got a little to distracted near the edge. he walked backwards with his sword held pointed at you, “look at us spending time together, we should do this more often.” he really should have watched his steps because his foot finally slipped and he took a tumble down onto the rocks. you watch him slide down, his grunts of pain and the way his body sounded made you cringe

lucky he landing on the shore line and only a few feet away from the water. which is were you two stay now catching your breath and thinking to yourself. why did you care if he was actually hurt or not? not like he would die or stay injured because he always got back up. why did his smile finally get to you back then?

and why was your stomach sick.

as you thought to yourself percy watched again like he always found himself doing. he loved the look on your face when you were deep in thought. and now that your face was wet and hair hanging down he couldn’t stop himself from falling deeper for you.

“please go on a date with me.” his words cut you out of thought.

your eyes grow bigger and look at him shocked and startled. you couldn’t believe your ears. he just asked you out on a date…percy jackson asked you out. the cocky, dumb, arrogant demigod was talking to you. Why, you hate his guts and always made fun of him. he jumped up from the water and you saw his teeth pinch the inside of his mouth anxiously.

“Sorry,” he sighed. “it just came out. I’ve been trying to ask you out for weeks but i couldn’t work up the courage to ask you out, I’m not good at this type of thing.” percy jackson lacking courage? that made you laugh. you looked up at him, the sun shining behind him as his hand now extended to you offering to help you up. any other time you would have smacked it away and cursed at him to leave you alone.

“I know you probably think I’m a total idiot which is true but, I really like you. If you really don’t want anything to do with me then I respect your wishes.”

but now you realize that you actually enjoyed his company. he made camp fun and exciting. and boy, was he handsome now that you really look at him. “alright, beach boy.” you grabbed ahold of his hand as he pulls you up. your body pressed into his and knocked him back a bit but his arm grabbed ahold of your waist to steady you.

inches away from his face your lips curled in a small smirk, “You got yourself a deal.”

[aphroditesmoon]

Heyy I love your Clarisse work!!! Can I get a Clarisse being protective over fem reader when Percy Jackson arrives and he tries to talk to us? Thank you!!!!

back to you

clarisse la rue x fem!demigod!reader

warnings: ep2 spoilers, protective clarisse, kissing.

a/n: thank you for reading n enjoying my clarisse fic! I hope this is to ur liking<3

wc: 1.7k

---

The new kid was lost. That much was easy to tell. He had been clamied as Poseidon's son, and yet no one had the thought of actually directing him to his new cabin.

You've been watching him from the corner of your eyes as you help fix your cabin siblings' stance for a spar. He's been walking back and forth in circles like an abandoned kitten. It was honestly amusing to watch.

It was about 2 minutes later when you hear his footsteps nearing you and turned ariund to meet the boy's face. "Hey." He greeted breathily like he's been running a marathon.

"Fish boy." You responded, making him frown. "Um, I'm actually- never mind, I was wondering if you uh, know where the Poseidon cabin is?" You cross your arms and studied the confusion on his face. "Did Chiron not show you?"

"He did, I just, forgot?" Of course he did. "I'll show you, come on." You walk past him to where his cabin is at, the whole map of this camp is engraved in your mind.

"It's really not that far." You tell him as you kept moving. You had to slow down a bit when you remember he's carrying his bags with him.

Percy Jackson looks less threatening to you now than he did before. It's almosf hard to believe that this is the same kid who destroyed a minotaur and broke Clarisse's spear. He was just a boy, and not even a mean or bratty one.

How is it that Mr. D and Chiron both founded it totally fine to let this 12 year old boy live in an empty cabin alone is beyond you, but that's not your problem to think about.

He's quicker on his feet than you expected and asked questions less stupid that others have.

"There shouldn't be a curfew if I'm the only one here, right?" He ask as he drops his bag on the floor by the bed. You watch him from the door, leaning against the frame. "I mean, technically, I'm head of the cabin."

Your brows raised at that. "I don't think that's how it works."

"The curfew is probably the same as any other cabin's curfew, though like you said, it's not like there's anyone else to tell you when to go to bed here." He gets the implication you're making. You weren't going to tell him that he could go around and do as he likes, but he could actually do it if he wanted to. There's not much supervision here.

You turn on the lights from where you're at, the switch button being on the wall by the entrance. The walls of the place were blue and white, it seems more well kept than the other cabins. How disappointing that he wouldn't have anyone to share the space with.

Percy had stood up from his bed to walk over to you to say his thanks when the both of you were interrupted by a familiar voice. He flinched at Clarisse's presence. But you, as surprised as you are, is used to her sneaking up from behind.

"What does this punk want with you?" She questions boldly. You spin around to find her a few steps away from you. Percy physically shivered, walking deeper into the cabin. "I was just asking her for directions." He explained before you could.

She's looking him up and down like predators do to their preys with a demonic glare in her eyes. It's been less than 12 hours since he broke her spear. And losing dessert privileges and her spear wasn't exactly a recipe to making Clarisse happy.

You pat her shoulder with your hand, in which she quickly shrugged off as she steps closer to the cabin, standing next to you and eyeing Percy suspiciously. "You expect me to believe that no one else has shown you the direction here."

"I forgot." He spoke at the same time as you told her, "Clarisse, he forgot."

“Forgot?” Clarisse turns her gaze from him to you and then back to him with a frown. "Well, you've already led him here, haven't you?" You gave her a look that says 'can you not?' She easily ignores your meaning of course, glaring at the boy again.

"Yes, I have. So I'll go now, come on Clarisse." You announced loudly, pulling your girlfriend by her arm to leave Percy alone.

She remains unmoving at first, sizing up Percy, until you tugged at her arm again, calling out her name. “Clarisse, please. Let's just go back to training.” Finally giving in, she lets you drag ger away from the blonde boy. You could almost hear the sigh of relief leave his body.

"Thanks for the help-" you hear the fish boy shout from behind hesitantly.

"Absolute brat." Clarisse mutters under his breath once the two of you are away from him. "He was just asking for help." You felt the need to defend him.

She put her right arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer to her as she scoff at your words. "Great, you're already siding with him after what he's done to me. Really? Are we forgetting that he broke my spear?"

You did chase him around with it like a lunatic, you thought of telling her. But you knew better than to upset her even more.

"I'm always on your side, you know that." You replied gently instead, letting your own arm wrap around her waist as the two of you make it back to the training grounds.

"Good, you're the only one I want on my team, so that better be the last time I see you around him" You smiled at that and leaned closer to her face to place a peck on her cheeks before other people could see you two coming over. "Yes, ma'am." You teased her.

She pulls your face back to hers before you could fullt pull away and kisses you harder, cupping your cheek with her free hand, uncaring of anyone's eyes on you.

[theemporium]

[3k] the season is over but the marriage remains. max starts to see little leclerc in a light no one in the world has ever seen before. and daniel is stirring the pot because he is bored. but in a concerned way, obviously.

series masterlist

.

“When did you say he was coming?” 

“Maman.” 

“Sorry for being excited to see my son-in-law.”

“Ugh, don’t call him that.” 

“That’s what he is, Charles. Grow up, please.” 

You couldn’t help but let out a snort as you watched the way your brother argued with your mother, both on very different sides of the spectrum as you awaited Max to show up. Despite his best attempts, whatever plans Charles made to try and ruin the dinner, Pascale would always be one step ahead of him, leaving the boy pouty by the time six o’clock was approaching.

And whilst you knew your mother would be excited to meet the man you impulsively—and drunkenly—decided to marry in Vegas, you hadn’t expected her to reach this level. You don’t think you had even ever seen her take Christmas dinners to this level.

The fancy plates and cutlery had been taken out of the kitchen cupboard you and Arthur were forbidden from opening, and you had spent all morning polishing them with Lorenzo. Pascale had been running around the house like a headless chicken, as though Max would step into the house and notice the specks of dust on the top of the bookshelves and doorways. Charles had been sent out the house on a goose chase that you indefinitely knew was your mother’s way of preventing him from poisoning any dishes. And Arthur was sent along with him for good measure. 

And when the clock hit five, she had practically ordered each and every one of you to put on something presentable and nice before the guest of the night arrived.

Truthfully, it felt like a funny fever dream until you were sitting in the living room, fingers tugging on the hem of your dress as you tried to fight the pit of anxiety in your stomach.

You hadn’t spoken to Max since earlier that morning. He had tried messaging a few more times: first asking what caused the sudden shift in tone, and then to ask for opinions on different bouquets. But you couldn’t bring yourself to reply to either. 

You were angry. Not at him. Never at him, You were just angry at yourself. You were angry for letting such a small, meaningless comment get in your head. You were angry that you were taking your emotions out on Max who was clueless and didn’t deserve your sudden cold shoulder. You were angry that despite logically knowing all of this, the sight of his contact name and the mere idea that he was going to be in your house in the next few minutes didn’t help the pit in your stomach.

You tried to focus on Charles’ tantrum. You tried to focus on the jokes Arthur kept making to wind him up. You tried to focus on the way Lorenzo was calmly trying to persuade your mother to put the photo albums away before Max even arrived. 

You tried to pretend you were okay when you were far from it.

“I want all four of you on your best behaviour,” Pascale told each of you as she anxiously glanced over at the clock, practically vibrating on the spot as the big hand neared closer to twelve with each passing moment. “No nonsense.” 

“That means no sneaking away to make out with your husband,” Arthur teased, only to let out a wince when Charles slapped him across the back of his head.

“There will be nothing of the sort,” Charles grumbled, only to let out a wince when Pascale slapped him across the back of the head.

“Don’t hit your brother,” she said in a stern voice before adding. “And stop being such a buzzkill towards your sister.”

Charles rolled his eyes.

Pascale opened her mouth as though she was going to continue scolding her middle son, only to be cut off by the sound of three knocks at the door. Her face instantly lit up as she clapped her hands together, grinning widely as she rushed towards the door. 

Maybe it was the anxiety or maybe it was something else, but your chest tightened when the door swung open and you saw Max on the other side of the door. 

He arrived right at six on the dot, though you guessed the punctuality didn’t surprise you. What did surprise you was the lack of Red Bull merch. It was stupid to think he would have worn it to dinner, but then again, he had worn it to plenty of other events shamelessly so you never knew what to expect. 

But no. Instead, Max stood in the doorway in black sweater with the collar of his white shirt sticking out the top. He wore dark jeans that didn’t look like they were painted on (a miracle) and he held a large bouquet of peonies that were the prettiest shade of pink you had ever seen in your life. 

“Mrs Leclerc,” he greeted her with a charming smile on his face as she opened the door. “Thank you for inviting—”

“Oh enough with the formalities!” She laughed before she brought him into a hug, the act clearly catching the boy off-guard if the wide eyes were anything to go by. “We are family now. Call me Pascale.” 

“Oh. Right,” Max murmured, expertly keeping the bouquet to one side as he wrapped his other arm around the older woman. “Uh, these are for you.”

“My favourite,” she said with a genuine smile when she pulled back to take the bouquet from his hands. “What a gentleman you are, Max.”

You could have sworn you saw a light blush spread across his cheeks. 

“Please, come in,” she ushered him in as she closed the door behind him. She turned on her heel, her smile still so wide, it was almost concerning. “Make yourself comfortable. Dinner is almost ready.”

Max nodded his head in thanks and turned to look at the others in the room. But his gaze completely missed your brothers and landed on you, something in his eyes shifting as he stepped forward and opened his mouth to say something. 

But you were already up and out of your seat before he could say a single word to you. 

“I’ll help bring the food to the table, Maman,” you said suddenly as you rushed towards the kitchen.

Arthur only snorted in response. “Trouble in paradise already.”

...

...

“You’re ignoring me.”

You almost jumped out of your skin, the phone that was previously in your hands now clambering onto the counter. You pressed your hand to your chest, the feeling of your wildly beating heart thundering under your skin as you tried to clear your throat.

“No, I’m not,” you denied, though you hadn’t turned to look at him.

Max raised his brows. “So you’re just hiding out in the kitchen when the rest of your family are outside for no reason then?”

“I’m not hiding out. I was checking on the chicken,” you said aimlessly, your cheeks heating up under his intense gaze. But still, you kept your eyes on the counter and the random dishes of food rather than the Dutchman who taking a few steps closer to you. “And I was texting Yuki. He was having some marriage issues so—”

“Guess you can relate then,” Max deadpanned. 

Your cheeks burned warmer. “You should head back out to the party, Max.”

“At least fucking look at me,” he whispered, something almost pleading in his voice. 

You weren’t used to it with the Dutchman. Even from a young age, Max was oddly self-assured and confident in what he said. The media said he was rude, but he was just blunt. He knew what he wanted to say. He didn’t sound apologetic when he said it. And he certainly didn’t sound so distressed when he demanded things. 

And yet here he was, the three time world champion who had never sounded so desperate and anguished before in his life, just aching for you to lift your head. 

You swallowed the ball lodged in the back of your throat before slowly turning your head to find Max a few steps away from you. He looked oddly concerned and maybe that’s what really caught you off-guard. You weren’t sure what you were expecting—maybe some annoyance or some anger—but it certainly wasn’t this. 

His brows were furrowed together, the crease between his eyebrows deeper and more prominent than you had ever seen it. He looked a little lost and bashful, like for the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to do and he didn’t know what to do with that piece of information. 

Max Verstappen had never looked so hopeless.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he spoke in a soft voice, and it didn’t help the pounding in your chest. 

“Nothing is wrong, Max,” you said to him, and you tried to flash him a smile. But it was strained and wrong and he hated the look of it on your face.

“Don’t bullshit me. You said this marriage wasn’t going to work if I wasn’t enthusiastic, well it won’t work either if you lie to me,” he said in a slightly more firm voice, and this time he took another step towards you. “Tell me what I did.”

Your chest tightened again. “Max—”

“Was it the comment earlier?” He continued, that pleading note in his voice so loud and clear again. “It was a joke, I promise you. I’m not ashamed to be married to you. I could never be ashamed of you.”

“Max—”

“Yes, I know the circumstances of our marriage are a little unconventional and a little inconvenient too but,” Max’s hands rested on your upper arms, the touch warm and overwhelming but you didn’t think you wanted him to let go of you just yet. “If I had to marry someone in Vegas, I am glad it’s you.” 

And it hurt. 

It hurt so fucking bad that the boy was standing in front of you, laying himself on the line and blaming himself for something that wasn’t even his fault. It hurt because no matter what you did, you couldn’t bring yourself to open your mouth and tell him. You couldn’t bring yourself to say that his agreement to your comment struck a nerve. You couldn’t bring yourself to say that you were feeling stupidly self-deprecating when you made the comment in the first place and his response just felt like he kicked you when you were down.

You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him about the countless articles. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him about the comments made throughout your life, throughout your brothers’ careers, throughout your own career. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that he had practically chained himself to a PR manager’s worst fucking nightmare with no way out any time soon. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to say any of it. Not when you hadn’t even confessed half of your feelings to the people in the other room. Not when a part of you was scared he would agree with every single fear that laid lingering in the back of your head. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” you finally managed to say, and something quite like relief washed over the boy when he realised you were actually answering him, that you weren’t going to run off and hide in another room like you had done before. “Just…it was something else that upset me. Not you. I promise. You did nothing wrong, Max.”

The concern returned. “What upset you?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” you said simply, and you were grateful enough that the boy dropped the topic—even if he wasn’t particularly happy about it. “We have a dinner to enjoy. It’s not worth ruining when Maman has spent all day making sure Charles didn’t slip some arsenic into your soup.”

Max snorted, shaking his head. A few beats passed before he squeezed your arms slightly. “We’re good?”

You smiled. “We’re good, Max.”

He nodded, seemingly pleased with that response as he let out an exhale. “Good, because now you can come out and help me. If Arthur makes one more sex joke, I think Charles might serve my balls for dessert.”

You snorted. “Maman would have his balls on a plate first if he tried to ruin the dinner itinerary she set up.”

...

...

...

“Can we talk?”

Max paused what he was doing, the pile of dishes sitting in front of him from where he was trying to help tidy up after dinner moments ago. Despite Pascale’s insistence that he was a guest who didn’t need to assist, Max still found himself joining the oddly domestic dance of working around the Leclerc’s to clean away the table and take everything back into the kitchen. 

He could hear you and Arthur giggling in the other room, quickly followed by soft scolds from Pascale—the kind where you could still hear the smile in her voice. He could hear Lorenzo stepping outside for a phone call, his voice muffled by the balcony whilst Arthur made some joke that he was probably going to throw himself off after watching his baby sister make heart eyes at her husband all night. That was followed by another scolding from Pascale. 

There was an odd sense of contentment deep in his chest as he collected the last of the dishes on the dining table when he heard somebody step into the room, expecting it just to be Pascale or maybe even you. 

He wasn’t expecting Charles. 

“Uh, yeah,” the Dutchman muttered, shifting around so he was facing the boy instead. “What’s up?” He almost cringed at his own words the second they left his mouth.

“Tell me this isn’t a tactic.” 

Max paused, wondering for a few moments if he had heard the boy correctly. However, Charles didn’t seem to repeat himself as he stood there on the other side of the table, staring blankly at the Dutchman as he waited for his response. 

“What?” 

“Tell me that this whole thing isn’t just some ploy made up by Red Bull,” Charles said, his face remaining straight as he spoke. 

“What is a ploy? This dinner?” Max questioned, utterly baffled by the words leaving his mouth.

“I need you to tell me whether you are just messing with my sister as some weird, twisted way to get to me,” Charles said, his arms crossed over his chest. “I need you to tell me if this is some fucking game to you and your team.”

And Max’s stomach churned at the allegation. 

He thought this was all planned. He thought Red Bull had sent him out like a spy to get involved with the Leclerc family and exploit them. He thought this didn’t mean shit to Max beyond a mind game to assure him the championship next year.

And the worst part was that Max could see why he would think that. If there was anyone who risked being his biggest competitor on track—car aside—it would be Charles. Not his own teammate. Not Mercedes. Not McLaren. It would be Charles Leclerc, like it had always been when they were younger. 

It had always been Max Vertsappen versus Charles Leclerc. And it always would be until the end of their careers. 

For Charles to assume it was one thing. But for Charles to actually believe Max would go through with something like that? To agree to such a plan? 

The Dutchman couldn’t deny that it really fucking stung. It fucking stung that Charles assumed the worst of him—even if it was to protect his little sister—and it fucking stung to wonder if the other Leclerc’s assumed the same.

“Charles,” a disbelieving scoff left his lips as he shook his head. “I would never—”

“Because I don’t give two fucks about a championship if you are messing with my sister,” Charles interrupted. There was a rage in his eyes, a rage he had never witnessed in the boy before—not even during his worst races. “She cares deeply about people. She loves hard and fast. And if you become one of those people and break her heart?”

Max didn’t say anything.

“There’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for her,” he said in a softer voice, but the underlying threat was still clear. “And there is nobody I wouldn’t hurt if they hurt her.” 

“This isn’t some mind game,” Max said to the boy, because he didn’t think the boy would believe anything else he said. “Vegas was a mess, I know that. But I would never do something like this. And I would never bring your sister into our rivalry or on-track business.”

Charles’ jaw clenched a little, like he was contemplating whether he believed Max or not.

And for a few moments, Max wondered what would happen if he confessed his true feelings. He wondered what the Monagasque would say if he learnt that Max had spent the better part of their early careers either trying to beat him in a kart or ogling his sister. He wondered what Charles would think if Max told him he was almost pretty sure his little sister was his first love, even when they didn’t have a proper conversation until Charles finally joined Formula One.

Max wondered what Charles would think if he knew the truth. 

But now was not the time nor the place to tell him. To be completely honest, Max didn’t think it would ever be the time or place to tell him. He didn’t think he would ever confess that to Charles, he didn’t think there was any reason to. There was only one person in this world that deserved to hear his confession, but Max would rather throw himself in front of the RB19 before he told you how he felt.

“I swear on my life, my cats’ lives and my mother’s life,” he added after a few moments, watching as the boy’s shoulders sagged a little like he finally realised Max was telling the truth. 

“Good,” Charles nodded, pausing for a few moments. “I mean everything I said. For as long as it takes to sort out this mess, if you even upset her once, I swear to God—”

“Image loud and clear, Charles,” Max assured the boy with a single nod of his head.

“Good. Remember it, Verstappen.”

And with that, he left the room and left Max staring blankly at the pile of dishes on the table, a dull ache in his chest that he wasn’t really sure how to ease.

...

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 372,933 others

yourusername breaking news: max verstappen does wear something other than red bull merch!!!

view all 17,932 comments

landonorris how much did you have to pay him to wear it?

danielricciardo he had a bit of a tantrum before he left the house but i promised him two bedtime stories

maxverstappen1 you both suck

user OMG THE DINNER ACTUALLY HAPPENED

user meeting the in-laws!!!

user okay but those flowers are so pretty???

pascaleleclerc it was lovely having you, max! we must make these a regular thing!

charles_leclerc MAMAN???????

user this is my roman empire fr

user i need to know how close charles was to poisoning max

arthur_leclerc so close

maxverstappen1 i do own other clothes. you've just not seen them yet

yourusername is that an invite, mr verstappen?

oscarpiastri there are children on this app. please.

yourusername what children

logansargeant ME! I AM CHILDREN! THIS IS HORRIBLE!

yourusername grow up

user this is everything i needed and more

user okay but when do we get the solo max and little leclerc dinner date?

yourusername i would like to know too. my husband is lacking

maxverstappen1 maybe i'll wear my red bull polo

yourusername i take it back, i don't want to go out to dinner with you

.

[ellecdc]

Mother, i had a request but i forgot what it was 😭😭 i was sooo excited tooo 😫

But in trying to remember i had another brilliant idea!!

Reader x Reggie where theyre both stoic, slightly volatile 🐍 but theyre actually really soft and mushy. And then SURPRISE!! Theyre actually also dating Remus who takes care of them and is super protective. Maybe its revealed near the full moon and possessive Moony makes an appearance.

Siri is flabberghasted; Barty is horrified his darling sweethearts are be defiled; James is shook; and Lily is yhe ultimate bro and super proud of Rem.

Anyway, im sorry your computer was so mean to you. I hope you're looking after yourself 🩵🩵

......this is going to go down in history as my most controversial post........😈 may I present to you.....poly!MoonWater 😈😈😈😈😈

poly!moonwater x fem stoic!reader (i.e., Remus Lupin x Regulus Black x reader)

Sirius Black was admittedly currently going through a hard time.

Now, depending on who you asked, one (literally everyone and anyone) might say it was his own fault.

But if you asked Sirius Black? It was everyone else and their insufferable happiness that was to blame.

His insufferable best-friend-that-anyone-could-ever-ask-for finally landed the woman of his dreams and said woman of previously mentioned best friend was horribly in love with the sod.

Even his baby brother was happy! Which seemed like an oxymoron because in looking at Regulus Arcturus Black, one would assume that boy had never known a single moment of happiness in his life.

If one took into account their childhoods, they’d be right.

But Regulus Black, who was quiet in a way that made you feel like you were always being judged and ridiculed (you were) who very rarely had a kind thing to say about anyone had found happiness (read: a girl) who, for all intents and purposes, could be his personality doppelganger.

One difference, however, was that you were quiet in a way that always had one feeling like you knew too much, saw too much, and you were far too perceptive for anyone’s good. You always seemed to be analyzing the people around you and Sirius, sue him, found that incredibly disconcerting. 

He did not wish to be known, thank you very much. 

And even Moony! Moony, the bastard, was seeing someone! Fucked if Sirius knew who though because the sod wouldn't tell anyone who they were. He just kept popping back to the dorm room covered in hickies and looking far too pleased with himself whilst offering no details.

He was even spending entire nights away from the dorm, and always made sure he had the sodding map with him so they couldn’t even see where he was.

So yeah, Sirius was pissed.

And before you ask – no, it’s not because he was lonely – in fact, he had frequent visitors in his bed thank you very much.  And NO, he didn’t want to discuss the fact that perhaps if he didn’t run at the first sign of commitment or emotional intimacy, he too would have happiness. 

Perhaps he just wanted everyone else to be slightly less happy for his own sake.

Did no one ever think about Sirius Black?

Give right now for example. He and Regulus had been...hanging out (if that’s what you could call the two of them sitting together not speaking as they each did their own homework) since Sirius insisted it was important to do so, especially since Sirius no longer lived at home meaning that their usual means of brotherly bonding (read: trauma) no longer took place. 

And then James showed up (he was so lucky Sirius loved him) who was but of course accompanied by Lily Evans (she was so lucky she’s as lovely as she is) which turned into a small James Potter roast on account of Regulus and Lily both having years’ worth of material from hating him up until recently, and Sirius had loads of material on account of him being a certified hater. 

And then Moony showed up, and if Sirius didn’t know any better, he had definitely been fooling around mere moments ago.

But Sirius did know better.

“Moony, what broom closet did you just crawl out of and where’s the poor soul that was stuck in there with you?” He spat.

Remus merely chuckled and pulled a book out of his bag, making himself comfortable in one of the library’s grandfather chairs. “No one was stuck anywhere with me.”

“No, I’m sure they were a very willing participant.” Regulus drawled, looking particularly bored for all intents and purposes, never bothering to lift his gaze from his book.

“No need to be jealous, baby Black. You’re more than welcome to join me in such broom closets.” Remus joked with a wink.

“Oi!” Sirius swatted at Remus on behalf of his brother (he’s welcome). “That’s my baby brother you’re talking about, and he’s taken thank you very much.”

“Merlin knows how,” James muttered none too quietly, “it’s not like he’s very approachable.”

Regulus lifted a lazy eyebrow as he looked at James from above the pages of his book. “I’ll have you know I’m very approachable to those I wish to be approached by.”

“Hi Reggie!” 

“Get fucked.” Regulus called back to Barty Crouch Junior, hardly sparing his best friend a glance as he approached him from behind. 

“Wow, Reggie’s in a good mood today, huh?” Barty said as he sat on one arm of Regulus’ chair, causing James to laugh until he realized that Barty wasn’t joking.

Suddenly another body showed up and gently sat on the other arm of Regulus’ chair.

Sirius watched as Regulus’ impassive face completely cleared of all contempt and he looked up at you with pure and unadulterated adoration.

It made Sirius sick. 

“Bonjour, mon cheri.” He murmured softly, in complete contrast to the harsh, militarized way he had previously been spitting at everyone else. 

You smiled gently at the boy as you pulled a notebook out of your book bag and produced a small, pressed flower, handing it to Regulus between your thumb and forefinger.

Regulus looked at it like you had just presented him with a hundred-year-old bottle of fire-whiskey.

“Did you pick this for me?” He asked gently, plucking the flower from your fingers with matching delicacy.

You offered him a quiet ‘mhm’ and Sirius noticed a shy smile grace your lips. Regulus’ eyes moved from the flower to your face, and he gazed at you like you had hung the moon.

“Merci, mon amour.” He said reverently and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

Lily looked at the two of you with a smile one might see on the face of a proud mother, James looked at the two of you like he was seeing a bowtruckle for the first time, and Remus looked oddly taken with the show of affection. Barty was apparently the only other sane one amongst them – oh gods, maybe Sirius really was losing it.

“Where the fuck has this Regulus been the last six years?” Barty muttered incredulously. 

Without much effort on your part, you reached over Regulus’ shoulder and shoved Barty off the arm of the chair and onto the floor before sliding to sit directly in Regulus’ lap.

“You...alright, Crouch?” James called tentatively from his place on the other side of the couple. 

“Oh, I’m fine. That’s just how she shows her love.” Barty said as he bounced back up, completely unperturbed. 

“Is it now?” Sirius asked, tone dripping with sarcasm. Remus swatted Sirius’ leg with his book.

“What?” Sirius squawked.

“Be nice.” He chided.

“I am nice! And why do you care?” Sirius argued, though he never got an answer. 

“I think they’re cute.” Lily announced, sending a sly smirk towards Remus.

“See? Lily gets it.” Remus said with a shrug as he went back to his book.

Sirius hated every single one of them.

But if Sirius thought that had been rough, he had no idea what was in store for him today. 

Sirius, Remus, Peter, James and... Lily had all been sitting at the Gryffindor table during dinner when Sirius noticed you rushing into the Great Hall looking rather frazzled.

“Whoa, what’s going on with Y/N?” Peter asked, apparently having noticed you at the same time as Sirius.

The conversation stopped abruptly as Remus’ head snapped towards the entrance, seemingly on high alert upon hearing of your arrival.

Sirius watched as you scanned the Hall before your eyes fell on their group. Your face crumpled in misery, and you rushed over. You were usually so polished and poised, any and all emotions locked away behind a well-fitted mask, no wonder you and Regulus got along so well.

Regulus...something must have happened to Regulus. Sirius had a dreadful feeling settle in the pit of his stomach; what could have happened to make you rush up to him looking that alarmed?

Except...you breezed right past him.

“What’s wrong, lovebug?” Remus cooed quietly, causing Sirius to choke on his own spit.

“He was hurt during practice.” You cried quietly, voice no more than a whisper as you moved to step between Remus’ spread legs where he had rotated on the bench to face you. His hands landed on the back of your thighs were his thumbs rubbed soothing circles into your tight clad legs.

“Okay. How hurt?” Remus asked just as quietly, ignoring the sputtering happening from James, the chuckling from Lily, and the horrified expression painting Sirius’ face.

“Dislocated shoulder.” You cried miserably, as if you’d just been told Regulus was damned to spend the rest of his life in a vegetative state.

Remus’s mouth looked like it was fighting really hard to smile as his eyes pooled with equal parts fondness, worry (for you or Regulus, Sirius wasn’t sure at this moment), and no shortage of love.

What the fuck was going on right now!? 

“What the fuck is going on right now!?” Sirius demanded, his outside voice echoing the one inside of his head.

You startled a little at his exclamation, leaning closer into Remus who increased his embrace around you. 

“What’s happening dear padfoot, is it appears your brother has been injured during quidditch practice. Perhaps you ought to go see how he is?” Remus taunted as he continued running soothing hands over your body.

“Yeah, yeah; the sky is blue, and people get hurt in quidditch. Now what is this!?” He screeched gesturing wildly at the two of you. 

You looked equal parts embarrassed from the attention and equal parts wanting to tell Sirius off for downplaying what you clearly thought was some great upheaval in Regulus’ life when Lily spoke up.

“I’m surprised it took you this long to notice, Pads.”

His mouth dropped open as he turned to regard his best friend’s girlfriend with a look of pure betrayal.

“Et tu, Lily!?” Sirius cried as James sputtered, “you knew!?”

Remus just smiled as he shoved his nose into your collarbone. You brought up a hand to begin scratching at his scalp, and Sirius was certain the sods leg would be thumping in contentment if he were a dog.

“Let’s go, Sirius.” Remus finally muttered, interrupting an argument that was going nowhere between James, Lily, and Sirius. “You’ve got a brother in the hospital wing.”

You hurried on ahead of them, clearly not interested in the talk the two friends were about to have.

“So, are you fucking my brother too or just fucking him over by screwing his girl?” Sirius finally spat with his arms crossed petulantly over his chest. 

Remus groaned and looked up at the ceiling, as if praying for strength to get through this conversation with Sirius Drama Queen Black. “Sirius, can you ask me a question that’s less likely to get me punched in the face?”

“No.” Sirius muttered. 

“He’s happy, Sirius. I promise.” Remus pressed. “He...he really deserves all the love he’s getting.”

And Sirius would have been an absolute arse if he’d had anything to say in response to that...

Don’t get him wrong, Sirius was an arse and did have many things to say in response to that, but the words died on the tip of his tongue when they walked into the hospital wing to see you sitting on the end of Regulus’ hospital bed.

Regulus, save the sling holding his arm to his chest and the fact that he was sitting in a hospital bed, looked as casual as Sirius ever remembered seeing him, smiling at you with...

Love.

A lot of love. 

“I’m fine, amour, I promise.” They heard him plead with you as they approached.

“Still have all your limbs, I see.” Remus commented as he walked over and pressed a gentle kiss to Regulus’ hair, causing the youngest Black to blush something fierce as he looked over at Sirius. 

“I’m sure she told you I was comatose.” He commented quietly, turning and offering you a wink.

“Don’t tease me...” You moaned, looking very much like you still wanted to fold Regulus up and put him in your pocket for safe keeping.

“Yeah, don’t tease her, love. You’d be sitting in this hospital bed all on your lonesome with no one you dote on you otherwise.” Remus jokingly chided. 

“Love.” Sirius groaned with a dramatized gag. 

“Oh, grow up, Siri.” Regulus barked.

Sirius’ head snapped over to his brother at the sound of his childhood nickname. Regulus’ cheeks were still dusted pink, whether it be at the unplanned outing of his relationship, being hurt, or the gravity of this moment.

Regulus hadn’t called him that since they were children...like, real children before the trauma, the alienation, the disinheritance, the running away...

Perhaps because Regulus had spent all of that time living in unmeasurable pain. Just like Sirius had.

And maybe, now...Regulus had people who made him feel brave enough to be vulnerable like this, to reconnect in ways he long thought impossible. 

Fuck Moony and his good naturedness; Sirius hated that Remus was right about this. 

“Oh, fucking Godric.” Sirius muttered petulantly as he pulled Regulus into a bone crushing hug.

Literally.

“Sirius!” Regulus groaned before Sirius was ripped away from his brother. Sirius expected Remus to be the one throwing him to the floor for inadvertently hurting Regulus’ injury...but it was you. 

“You idiot.” You hissed as new tears formed in your eyes, immediately moving to grab the ice pack from the bedside table and gently placing it on Regulus’ shoulder.

Remus and Regulus looked at you with so much adoration, Sirius was certain hearts were going to start pouring out of their eyes and floating around their heads.

“I’m fine, thanks!” He called out as he hauled himself up off the floor. 

“Oh good.” You said sarcastically.

“I don’t like this.” Sirius grumbled, causing all three faces to turn to him.

“Pads...”

“Sirius, please.” Regulus implored.  

“What if you break his heart?” He asked no one in particular. “What if you hurt my baby brother? Who am I supposed to support then? Or you; what am I supposed to do if you hurt my best friend? And what if you tossers hurt Y/N!”

The three of you shared a look before his brother turned to him. “Sirius, if we breakup, I give you permission to side with Remus.”

“And if we break up, I promise you can side with Y/N.” Remus added.

“Nope.” You said quickly, “that’s fine, I don’t need to be included in this.”

Sirius groaned out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank gods. Okay, okay. I guess I'll allow it then....”

“THE THREE OF YOU ARE WHAT!?” Barty screeched as he stood at the door of the infirmary, still in his quidditch kit.

“Do we actually have to have this conversation again?” You groaned quietly.

Remus shot Regulus and extremely guilty look as he slowly stood.

“Remus.” Regulus warned.

Remus grimaced and slowly made his way over to you.

“Remus John Lupin, I swear to Salazar...”

“Regulus, I love you; I do. But...he’s you’re friend an- NOW DOVE” He shouted, and the two of you took off in a sprint out of the infirmary. 

“Quite the catch you’ve got yourself there Regs.” Sirius taunted. 

“Sod off.” Regulus muttered as Barty made his way over to his bedside.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Sirius jeered as he, too, took off out of the infirmary, leaving Regulus Black to deal with the likes of Barty Crouch Junior on his own.  

don't hate me

[leighsartworks216]

You Hate Me

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Sooooo I wrote this one morning when even just laying down had my knees hurting and I was like,, well what if Tav had that too? Also inspired by the fact I get to campus an hour early and still try to rush to the (empty) classroom instead of, ya know, taking advantage of the huge time buffer I give myself

Warnings: swearing, descriptions of joint pain, insecurity, crying, possibly OOC, clown mention

Word Count: 1,545

Masterlist

AO3

Just a bit further. A little further and then you could rest. If you make it to that tree - make it to that tree and you can sit down. Just a bit left to go.

It started almost a week ago. Unable to cope with all the traveling, your right knee started bothering you. With every step you could feel your kneecap shifting back and forth with a dull click. Then, it started to hurt. Nothing serious. If you walked slow enough, you could avoid it. But now every step sent shocks of pain up your entire leg. Your left knee joined the party this morning, removing any sense of relief you had while walking. Even sitting down didn't remove the pain, but you couldn't afford a day off.

Your companions noticed the changes, despite your best effort not to show any outward discomfort. You moved slower, the occasional grimace slipped through, they weren't traveling quite as far. You consider asking Shadowheart for anything that could ease the pain, but you already knew there was little she could do to help. So you grit your teeth and kept going.

Your foot stepped on uneven ground and you nearly dropped from the agony that shot through your whole body. Karlach worried you might actually just collapse. But you kept going.

Astarion couldn't bear it. None of them could - they hated seeing their intrepid leader fight their own body just to go a few more feet - but your struggle settled like a boulder in his stomach. Every time your face scrunched up, every hiss of your sharp inhales, felt like someone had stabbed a knife in his chest and was twisting it ever deeper. He hated the feeling.

With only a few long strides, he slipped from the back of the group to the front, walking alongside you. He had to change his normal gait just so he didn't surpass you. "Darling," he hummed quietly, just loud enough to keep the conversation between you two, "you should rest."

You shook your head. You didn't even spare him a glance. Your eyes didn't shift from the tree. "We're almost there," you dismiss. It's slightly breathless. Despite needing to walk slow to avoid the pain, you were pushing to go faster.

He tsked. "And how far do we still have left to go?" He tilted his head as he looked at you, already knowing whatever distance you said would be too far.

You nodded to a tree dead ahead. "Once we reach that birch, we can rest."

"That birch?" He pointed. "The birch tree that's nearly half a mile away?"

He could feel you bristle with his incredulous tone, but you didn't say anything.

He scoffed. "My dear, I can be stubborn at the best of times, but this is ridiculous! You're barely staying upright as it is."

"I'm fine-"

"No, you're not," he sharply cuts you off. He grabs your arm and pulls you to a stop, holding you there with enough force that you wouldn't slip out and keep going. You refuse to look at him even now. "You're wincing, your hands have been clenched for the last mile, and you keep stumbling. The tree will still be there if you just sit down for a minute."

The rest of the party watches from a distance. Far enough away they can just make out what Astarion's saying, especially as his voice rises in pitch the more frustrated he gets.

Standing still hurts. It's hard to say if it hurts more or less than walking; it just hurts. Your face is pinched as sharp jolts run up through your joints, like someone is poking you with a sewing needle. Walking, you decide, must be better than this.

"It's not that far," you insist, voice low. "And when we get there, we can-"

"Gods above, you're impossible! Fine. Fine! You want to get to that tree, fine." He lets go of your arm.

Before you can even take a step, he's sweeping you into his arms, supporting you with one arm under your back and the other hooked under your knees. The pressure hurts for a moment, but it quickly fades away. The lingering aches are from pushing yourself too hard. He begins marching once more toward your end goal.

You want to shout, to demand he put you down. But when you look up at his face, his eyes are sharper than usual, lips pulled into a tight frown and crease forming between his eyebrows. He's angry.

He's angry with you.

The words die in your throat. You hate being so dependent. You were the leader - you needed to be strong and fearless and without weakness. To receive help feels like someone plunging their hand between your ribs and stealing away a chunk of your worth. But seeing Astarion upset, upset with you, that stings far worse.

You avoid looking over his shoulder. You could just imagine their faces. How Lae'zel would scowl at you for being weak. How Gale's face would turn somber when he realizes you're not as capable as he thought. You couldn't bear it. So you press your forehead to Astarion's neck and stare at your lap.

There's an unwelcome burn at the back of your eyes. Shame floods your chest and crawls up your throat until it chokes you. Water pools along your lower lids and blurs your vision. You can't walk and now you're going to cry. Just how fucking pathetic can you be?

Astarion's head shifts and you can tell he's trying to look down at you. He's trying to see your face. Because he can feel you shaking in his arms. He can hear your lungs quivering as your breaths become uneven and choppy. You press your closed eyes against his throat and he can feel the hot tears against his skin.

His frown softens, though you can't see it. He slows down to a stop and tells the others to go on ahead, to the birch tree just there, and start working on setting up camp, but all you can hear is your heart pounding in your ears. Their faces become fraught with worry; Karlach is the last to go. She still looks back once or twice. Astarion finds a suitable rock and he sits.

"Shh, sweet thing," he cooes, voice no louder than a whisper. His arm around your back pulls you into his shoulder, hand tangling in your hair as he cradles you. His other hand rubs soothing circles along your thigh. You gasp around a sob, body curling further into itself, into him, as you release your emotions. "It's alright."

You strangle out an apology. It's wet and croaky and painful.

"Whatever for?" he asks.

"You're mad at me," you whimper.

He huffs. The frustration from before rises in him again just thinking about it. "Yes, I am."

He feels your breath catch in your throat, and the heaving breath you take after. "You hate me."

Astarion laughs, short and sharp. "Why would I hate you, dear? Because you're too stubborn for your own good?" You don't have a response for him. He kisses your head, wherever he can reach. "I'm mad because you put yourself out trying to solve all of our issues, but the moment you have one of your own, you refuse any help. You're going to tear yourself apart."

He sighs and rests his cheek atop your head. His fingers rub the nape of your neck, gently tugging at the hair there. You carry so much tension, it's a wonder your muscles haven't locked up from the stress.

Time passes slowly in his arms. It seems to take forever before you start to calm down, and even longer before your eyes have dried. He does nothing to speed the process aside from gently hush you when you try to choke out apologies.

You sniffle quietly. Your eyes are raw, and you're all too aware of the stain of water you've left on the vampire's neck. When you speak, it's a painful creak in your vocal chords. "You don't hate me?"

He presses another kiss to your head. "No, love, I don't hate you. Not unless you've done something truly horrific, like invite a clown to show up at camp in the middle of the night." You chuckle weakly. It's such sweet music. "Gods forbid you start donating to charity." You laugh this time, and Astarion's chuckle vibrates against your ear.

His fingers detangle themselves from your hair with one last gentle tug, and his arm wraps around your back once more. As though you weigh no more than one of his pillows, he stands once more with you in his safe grasp, and begins heading for camp. He can see Karlach up ahead light up when she sees you're finally on your way.

"I'm sorry," you whisper. "I just feel so... useless, like this."

"Please, stop apologizing," he begs, dramatically. "Just say 'thank you' and we can move on."

You peel your face from his skin, dried tears sticking you together. You wince at how disgusting this must be for him. You lean up and kiss his cheek. He smiles at the affection. "Thank you."

Softer, he says, "Of course, my love."

[allfearstofallto]

Day of the Wedding

Yandere! Genshin Men x Fem! Reader

Ft: Diluc, Childe, Scaramouche

Forced Marriage AU

TW: Yandere Themes, Forced(?) Alcohol Consumption

AN: I checked today and I have 900 followers??? That's actually insane!!! This is what I've got to offer I guess!!

Diluc

Who wouldn't cry tears of joy when marrying the most desired bachelor of Mondstadt? That's what people thought when they saw you dressed from head to toe in pure white, the only thing throwing your princess attire off being your smeared makeup. Your eyes, so red and puffy, had mascara running down your cheeks. Black tears staining your face.

Despite the way you looked, you still forced a smile. It was a small wedding, containing only those close to the both of you, but your family couldn't help, but wonder why you chose to stay close under your newly wed husband, almost seeming afraid to talk to them.

When the vows were spoken, you could barely get the words out. Your voice shaking through sobs as your tears fell upon the page of written notes, eventually making the ink leak and becoming ineligible. You still spoke your I Do’s, followed by him lifting your veil and kissing you right upon your lips. His hand snaked around your waist and the other held your head in place. But you, you stood there stiffly, like kissing him had made you turn into stone.

Diluc pulled away with a smile, his mouth stained with a slight tint of your lipstick. He walked you back down the aisle, with the crowd throwing rice and cheering. On the happiest day of your life where you were supposed to be looking forward ahead of you, you just kept looking back, hoping that your family could see the distress in your eyes, though they never did.

Childe

So many of Childe's siblings and cousins and aunts and uncles came to the wedding, but not a single one of your family members joined you.

“She's not close to her family,” he'd say, holding on to your waist with a threatening hand. That was a lie. You loved your family. You saw them often, at least, you did before the day you abruptly decided to move to Snezhnaya without a word to them. You hadn't seen them since and they didn't know where to send letters, you were essentially a ghost of their past. Your memory haunted them daily as they missed you dearly and you missed them too.

The wedding lasted days and days. A surprise to even you, but apparently that's tradition. Games and singing. There was dancing happening for what felt like hours. And drinking. So so so much drinking. With a feast that spanned almost an entire table, there was an abundance of alcohol to match.

You could hardly keep up with the festivities. In an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people being wed to a man you thought you knew. Childe wouldn't let you show your discomfort on your face, meeting your lips with a glass of whatever he was drinking, you'd gulp down even more and fall into that drunken dizziness. When the wedding ended, you don't exactly remember. It all became a blur near the end. But you remember waking up to Childe laying you down in bed, placing a kiss on your forehead and whispering words of praise to you that would've been comforting, had it not been for who he was.

Scaramouche

He always adored the way you looked in kimono. Today was no different. The pure white silk draped over your body was by far the nicest one he'd gifted you. Dolled up in traditional make-up, you felt so stiff with your now decadent appearance.

You'd feel less scared if he wasn't still wearing that same glare. That same look of anger and disappointment. Even though it was just the two of you in the room, you him and the officiant who would wed the two of you, he still glared at the man like one mistake would kill him. And it probably would.

Your hand shook as you picked up what looked to be the tea pot, something he made you practice time and time again to prepare just for today. Getting it wrong today would mean facing his wrath later, yet you still shook while pouring it into the small bowl. You watched with a pounding heart as you managed to spill some, dripping onto the floor and sinking between the wood.

Meeting his gaze and preparing for a scolding, you instead saw him lightly chuckle. Seldom did he smile and even more rare than that, did he actually laugh. The sight was even scarier than his usual glares, somehow his joy made him seem even more menacing.

“I expected this much from you,” he whispered into the silence. His nimble fingers gripped the rim of the bowl and he brought it to your lips, making you take a sip of the warm alcohol. It was bitter and disgusting, just as you'd remembered. When you swallowed your sip, he took one right after you, finishing off what was left in the dish, then sitting it to the side again.

Your names were signed onto a piece of parchment, a wedding document written in traditional Inazuma script. You couldn't read a word of it, but there was no worse contract than the one that said you'd be his lawfully wedded wife.

Scaramouche held your hand as the two of you walked out of the shrine, his fingers cold and his grip tight. It was such a beautiful day out. That was all you could think about as you were walked back to his carriage which would take you to his home. Your last day as a truly free woman, you were glad it was beautiful.

[neteyamsilly]

i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 1

summary ;; As Jake Sully's oldest daughter, you never see eye to eye with him, always challenging him and pushing his buttons to the limit. What happens when things go too far one day? [PART 2] pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; welcome to the labor of my daddy issues and my very own therapy. this fic is inspired by this one by @layonatanvi and I only wanted to borrow the running away from home to get an ikran idea/prompt! Please excuse my mistakes if you see any.

There’s a widespread belief among sky people that every first-born daughter is a direct copy of her father. 

You listened in on your own father complaining to your mother about this privately one time; according to him, this was why you guys kept banging hammerheads like 'angtsìks. 

Lo’ak was his troublemaker, yes, but you were the rebel pain in his ass, wouldn’t stop questioning one tiny simple step he made, never took anything seriously when he needed you to be on top of things hundred percent of the time... Even your younger brother knew boundaries after he was given the stink eye, but you hadn’t stopped testing him every single goddamn day after the sky people had come back. 

His youngest son and oldest daughter were nearly identical in the speed they got him seeing red, but the similarities ended there. Lo’ak would go behind him to cause trouble, and you would do it right to his face, that fearlessness and defiance made you more dangerous than your brother in your father’s opinion.  

His blood pressure skyrocketing was reserved for Lo’ak and the shenanigans he knew right away the boy was getting into, and you got his explosive anger the moment you would open your mouth to defy him — he couldn’t talk to you, a normal conversation even about your mother’s cooking wasn’t possible without you being passive-aggressive and things snowballing from there. 

(“This is delicious Neytiri, thank you for the food. Sturmbeest?”

“Sturmbeest meat ran out like two weeks ago, father. You ask this everyday and mom answers the same everyday.”

Cue him reprimanding you for talking to him like that, you saying maybe he should greenlight a hunt soon to calm his nerves and promptly being sent to your room. It was Neteyam who’d saved some food for you that night.)

If only you would stop talking back to him and listen for once, he’d said, pacing in the tent with hands on hips like an agitated viperwolf as mother watched on, most likely tired from going through this loop for yet another day. You are the older sister to Lo’ak, Kiri and Tuk, why can’t you be a role model for them like Neteyam is? 

(Mom had given him the flattest, “She is at the age for such behavior, Ma’Jake, we’ve talked about this. Let her be.”)

In your defense, he didn’t make sense sometimes, what harm was there in wanting him to explain the thought process behind his decisions?

Apparently you simply were prohibited from doing that to the Olo’eyktan. 

But he was father, he was your family. Why did that have to be disrespect? 

He wasn’t like this before.

A small part of you was aware this was you lashing out because you missed your father — the lighthearted rock in your life, the big shadow protecting you from the heat of the world, who knew how to smile and show his love before all of this. Now he was just the leader of the clan, the weight of the revered Toruk Makto on his shoulders made him a total stranger you didn’t recognize. 

He barely ever called you sweetheart anymore, punishing you for being a brat, most likely. You tried to act like it didn’t hurt. 

But it did. You missed him dearly when he was right in front of you. The rest of the family did, too, they just didn’t say it out loud the way you expressed through what you called standing up to him — in reality, it was a statement about the man he had become, father couldn’t read between the lines to understand.

Mom did. 

She would always explain he did it out of love and worry, and his every move had a reason behind it after the scoldings ended. It was as if she saw right through the prickly exterior of her eldest daughter.

Her love wasn’t held back like his was, not shared like military MREs at decided moments in a day in between attacks, raids, meetings and duties. Hers were long touches, hugs, kisses on your temple, shared time and hunts together, her letting you ride on her ikran with her, the warmth of a meal and soft smiles; whilst his was randomly asking how you were after training and where you’ve been if he caught onto your absence sometimes. He didn’t have time for you or your siblings except for Tuktuk these days. That’s why you were now a mama’s girl.

Sooner or later, the breaking point was finally bound to arrive. 

Yours did after a particularly heated-up fight about your rite of passage. You had had enough of father postponing it when Lo’ak, younger than you, had already gained his own ikran and gone through uniltaron. He was present in the tent while you were fussing and debating with your immovable mountain of a father only answering with single syllable responses, and his light snickers made you all the more aggressive. He got a strong jab from Kiri after a loud snort.  

Kiri, you could get. She was built different from the start — got her mount earlier than anybody else, just walked up to it and asked. Besides, the girl wasn’t a dick about it like Lo’ak was. 

“You aren’t ready yet,” father answered the more you asked him. You thought he'd say a different thing the hundredth time, but he didn't. “Your brother was.”

Lo’ak puffed his chest at that, desperate for a drop of recognition as always, and you could only roll your eyes. “So you think I’m weak? I’m not strong enough?”

Father sighed at the provocation. “That’s not what I’m saying. This and being ready are two different things.”

“How are they different? If I’m on top of my training, that means I’m ready.”

“Physically ready, and mentally ready are not the same.”

“How can I not be mentally ready, I’ve already seen what happens—”

“Enough!” He stood up, towering above you and leaning in slightly. Your younger brother had stopped smiling so quickly you almost let a laugh escape you, and father got agitated when he saw that, thinking you were making fun of him. “Some don’t return from the dream hunt. Do you understand? The strongest sometimes don’t return from that. Your mind needs to be strong.”

“And mine isn’t?”

He gave a slow exhale through his nose, not actually wanting to say it for some reason. “No it isn’t.”

“Why?”

There it is. Your signature phrase. ‘Why?’

And it made your father look above, asking silently for patience from Eywa as it always did. 

“Ma’ite, why don’t we take a break, hm? Come walk with me,” your mom interrupted, taking your hand and standing next to you, your four fingers got enveloped in her larger, warmer grip, strong and insistent. 

“No, I wanna hear it. What do you think makes me not ready?”

You insinuating that your father was entirely going off his own wrong opinion and not knowing any better set him off. You saw the change from ticked off to borderline on edge, but instead of giving into it, he turned his back on you and went back to cleaning his gun, movements choppy and harsh. “That immaturity for a start.”

And you hissed at him—actually hissed at him when none of your siblings would ever dare to talk back to him during a lecture. 

The audible gasps, the holding of breaths, and the slow turn of your father’s head looking like he was going through confusion of reality upon being hit on the head had followed. His eyes narrowed and the lines of his eyebrows got gradually lower on his face, his form seemingly expanding in mass from building anger, spine slowly straightening after fully comprehending what you just did.

“I’m way past you giving me attitude missy,” his baritone and low voice was so steady that you’d rather him yell at you like usual, but he was scarily calm, pushing you to raise your chin righteously at him to show you weren’t bothered by him none, but your ears betrayed you by cowering flat and taut against your skull. “But you’re hissing at your father now? Hm? You think this right here is gonna get you the respect you think you deserve?”

“You don’t listen,” you said, ignoring your heart trashing away from how coldly father was to you.  “Disrespect,” your fingers quoting in the air resulted only in making him angrier. Neteyam to his right, silent and observant the whole argument, was furiously shaking his head that the beads in his braids were clicking loudly. “is the only way you ever pay attention to anything anymore. See? Look how sharp you are right now. Mission accomplished, I guess.” 

“Bro…” Lo’ak, frightened by the wide eyed glare father was giving you, weakly protested, but you knew he would never be able to interfere in the verbal struggle between you and father the way you did to his. 

“You will go to your room,” father said between his teeth, “Do not let me see your face. I swear to Eywa—Neytiri, get her outta here.“

“Do you ever want to see our faces anymore, father?” 

A beat. 

Mom gasped your name in shock, grabbing your arm this time as if she wanted to drag you away. 

All his fury froze away immediately. “What did you just say?” 

You just stared at him. 

“That’s enough,” your mother snapped at you, but you didn’t hold it against her, she was more worried about what would follow if this went on. “Come on, we’re leaving.”

“Okay.” Father slowly shook his head, the storm brewing right under his skin got you preparing for the impact, and all the kids flinched when he threw the unloaded gun back in the crate. “You know so much, don’t you? You’re smart, wise. Know better than Tsahik herself. Fine, you get your way. Go.”

You froze. “What?”

“Yeah, go. Get yourself an ikran.”

“Father—”

“Don’t father me. Go on. I’m not stopping you. Since you’re so ready and you’ll say just about anything to get what you want, who am I to get in your way, huh?” 

But you didn’t want it to be like this. Iknimaya was supposed to be something exciting, prideful — a ceremony. He was saying it like you were being thrown out. Who was going to paint your face? Be proud of you? 

“Why are you just standing there?” He poked your crushed ego further, confident in the fact that you wouldn't set one foot outside of the cave systems at this hour of the day. “Didn’t you want this?”

You didn’t want this. 

“Dad, it’s the middle of the night,” Kiri said, appalled, not quite believing her ears. 

“What does it matter?” He showed you in mock pride, up and down that you couldn’t stop the tears from stinging the corners of your eyes. “Mighty hunter here is ready.”

“Jake,” your mother warned in such a threatening tone that he stopped and shifted on his feet, almost uneasy. 

“What? If she doesn’t want a father’s concern I’m not giving it to her.”

Like you weren’t standing right in front of him at all. 

“Jake!”

That was the final straw. You wrenched your arm free from mom’s iron grip and screamed, “I hate you!” at the top of your lungs at him before storming off the tent.

His ears flattening was the last thing you paid attention to as everything became a blur because of tears swelling. Yeah, right. You wished you could hurt him, unfortunately he was too much of a wall for that. You bet he was scoffing at your declaration right now.

Your body thought faster than your brain did even when the emotions had you drowning under the current, deciding you were going to sneak off to the ikran rookery tonight. You knew he would send Neteyam after you — him barking, “Follow your sister,” at the boy right after you hid yourself between the rocks surrounding the tent was the confirmation of the hypothesis. He was to make sure you didn’t leave High Camp. 

Everyone in your family knew your favorite hiding spot to cool off, Neteyam of course was heading there automatically, and it was the headstart you needed to get a move on. 

Fine. You would complete your iknimaya yourself without anybody’s support, as if these things had any value anymore with how military he’d conditioned the clan to be. You were going to make him eat his words for humiliating you.

The muffled of father drifting off flared up your determination as you soundlessly sneaked off. "Jesus, I've spoiled her too much..."

[targaryenluvs]

ooh what about coryo x a plinth!reader, like sejanus’s younger sister who’s friendly but cautious. and though she accepts coryo into the family (since he was her brother’s “friend”) the way he just took his place begins to unsettle her until she finds out what happened but by then it’s too late and she can’t get rid of him

RUNAWAY

pairings: dark!coriolanus snow x fem!plinth!reader

summary: you’d always considered coriolanus to be a friend of yours. family even. but after sejanus’s death you find him to be off. he’s keeping something from your family and you’ve run out of time to get as far away as you can.

warnings: mentioned murder/hanging, nc kissing, secrets, manipulation, lying, possessive, blackmail, forced marriage, implied sex

a/n: thank u for the requestsss!! i’ve had no inspo lately so thank y’all

he looked so different.

well not so, but to anyone else it was just a change of clothes and a hairstyle. but he truly had changed, in personality and looks. his face rarely smiled anymore, it being reserved for a small group.

what you didn’t know was that the group was just you.

your family has been quick to welcome him, sejanus’s loyal best friend. the one who’d been by his side, when it happened and before it. who helped him in the academy and as peacekeepers. you liked coriolanus a lot back then, he was always nice to you. bringing you a rose or a treat he’d managed to charm a naive baker into passing his way free of charge. you’d always seen him as a brother, his presents being an affectionate way of showing his liking of you. sejanus’s little sister. you were happy for sejanus, as most of the kids weren’t exactly welcoming. having an acquaintance, friend even, was good for him.

but if you’d known he had other intentions in mind for these years you would have ran for the hills.

coriolanus was on the fast track for success.

with the plinth fortune at his back he was for once providing what he wanted to for his family. presidency in the horizon, respect by his side and lucy gray in the past.

but there was something he wanted from the plinth family, even if he’d already taken their fortune and son. their daughter. before now, he was meek. he may have held himself high, fooled some and scared others with his smart self he’d never managed to get the one thing he wanted, you. but there was no way you could deny him now, right?

you didn’t know how it had happened but you weren’t miserable. you knew you’d have to marry one day so why not coriolanus? you thought to yourself as you fixed your wedding dress, you’d asked for time alone before you walked since- well you didn’t know why. you just wanted a second to breathe before the entire capitol came down on you with a million questions, pokes and prods.

you were in corio and yourselfs room. as you surveyed the room one last time as an unmarried woman you noticed something peeking out from his bed. you knew coriolanus liked to write, but you assumed it was all business related. god you wish your curiosity had kept itself in check.

your dress was wet in places. the tears were non-stop and you couldn’t breathe. just when you thought the tears and heavy breathing would die down you felt coriolanus’s hand on your bare shoulder, “you should have not read it.” his voice was stern, unwavering. you wanted nothing more than to kill him. “don’t be hysterical. get up. he’s gone and there is nothing you can do about it. i won’t allow you to ruin my image, get up.” you continued crying as he lifted you up, manoeuvring you like a doll. moulded for him.

he wiped away your tears as you buried your face in his neck and your nails in his biceps. you were holding on to him for dear life, you feared if he wasn’t there to ground you the floor would eat you.

“settle down, we have a wedding to finish.” you choked on god knows what, “do you honestly believe i’d marry you now? no! i’m telling everyone. and they’ll see what a disgusting monster you are. how dare you come to our family for reprieve and safety! use our money! stay in our home and smile at us knowing what you did?” you screamed as you ran towards the door, being met with a guard. he was large, burly and did not look like he cared about you. the tears down your face and he held no sympathy. “i pay him handsomely. he won’t help you, no one here will.” coriolanus walked over to the door and shut it as you walked backwards.

you had no clue what he would do to you, if he could have sejanus hung and then face his family everyday. charm you, love you, sleep with you and now marry?

“would you like to tell your mother? that someone she considers to be a son took her child from her? would she even believe you? or would she die of heartbreak before you could explain? what happens when i prove your lying? no one knows besides you and me. your word vs mine. a powerful business man, game maker of the hunger games, from old money and wealth. coriolanus snow, soon to be president and his dear wife. y/n plinth, a daughter of the plinths, new money with no history in the capitol and whom made money of off the war whilst others suffered. even if they did believe you, who would stop me from making sure they see their son again?”

checkmate.

you had no where to run to and your family on the line, so when coriolanus walked to you, fixed your hair and dress, you let him.

when your father walked you down the isle to the monster who destroyed your family, you let him.

when your mother cried tears of happiness for her daughters marriage, you let her.

when coriolanus kissed you passionately, hand dropping quite low as the crowd cheered for your love. you let them.

and when he carried you to your new bedroom, ripped your dress off and made his way down, you let him.

because you knew there was no way you’d allow him to touch your parents, hurt them. maybe they could get away from his poisoned thorns that dug so deeply. by the end of the night you’d been taken in so many ways you couldn’t move without irritating a bruise. and with coriolanus’s arm trapping you in his chest only one thought blared through your mind.

RUNAWAY!

[barcaatthemoon]

home is where the heart is || mary earps x reader ||

you make a surprise visit to see mary.

your flight from germany landed in the middle of mary's derby. that was why you opted for going back to her apartment instead of the game. your training injury had yet to be announced, so you had some time off to go back home for a bit. germany was great, and you loved living with georgia, but the woman waiting for you back in manchester would always be your home.

mary's apartment looked exactly the same as from when you left it. she had kept everything you put up exactly where it had been. you smiled as you walked around the familiar place and took it all in. mary had always been a bit messy, and you swore that the cluttered items were still the same ones that you told her to pick up before you left.

you had at least an hour before mary got back, so you decided to turn on the game as you started cooking dinner. it was nothing fancy, just a little something that mary had always loved, your mother's beef stew. mary didn't have all of the ingredients, but you hadn't expected her to. the quick trip to the store on the way there guaranteed that you'd have everything that you needed.

"what is that smell?" you heard ella's voice before you heard her enter mary's apartment. the next thing you heard was mary drop everything and begin to run towards you. she had always been heavy-footed, stomping around the apartment at all hours of the day.

"oh my god, i've missed you," mary said as she scooped you up into her arms. she pressed several kisses to the side of your face. mary didn't care to turn you for a proper kiss, content to just have you in her arms for a bit longer.

"let her go, you're gonna hurt her," ella teased. mary shot her a glare, but set you back on the ground. "hi, (y/n)."

"hi ella," you returned the greeting. behind you, you could feel mary moving as she looked around the kitchen. "why don't you go in the living room for a bit?"

"are you sure that you don't need any help?" mary knew the answer, but she still wanted to ask anyway. you knew that it was genuine, not just because ella was here. you shooed both women out of the kitchen, unsurprised when ella announced that she was leaving a mere 15 minutes later. you gave the girl lots of hugs and a couple of kisses, having missed her nearly as much as you missed mary. you had missed most of your old friends in england, but you were glad that you followed georgia to germany.

"mary, the stew's done." you brought a bowl out to her, carefully balancing the two in your hands. there was more than enough left for later, and you knew mary would eat at least two bowls. she was always ravenous after a game, and even more so whenever you were the one doing the cooking.

"oh this is nice," mary said as she put her arm around your shoulders. you leaned into her embrace as you started eating. the two of you enjoyed your dinner while mary let you catch up on some of the shows that you had missed while you were away. you went back to take a shower while mary cleaned up in the kitchen, her getting done just a few minutes before you walked out of the bathroom in a towel. "i don't know what i did to deserve all this, but i'll take it."

"cheeky," you warned. mary pouted as she placed her hand on your towel. she didn't tug it down immediately, which you appreciated. however, you did not miss the look on her face that completely revealed her intentions. "if you pull that towel down, i'll call ella over for a sleepover right now."

"i was just feeling the fabric, that's all. i wanted to make sure it was soft enough for your skin. it's sensitive baby," mary said as she dropped her hand. you smirked at how quickly she had changed her attitude.

"i'm sure that you were," you laughed. mary sat back on the bed and pulled her knees up to her chest. she let out a small sigh as you sat down on the edge of the bed, just far enough away that she couldn't reach you.

"do you think that maybe for a second, you could drop the towel?" mary asked sweetly. you twisted yourself around so that you were facing mary before you started crawling up the bed. she let you push her legs down so that you could sit on her lap. mary forced herself to look away until you pulled her in for a kiss.

it wasn't like the kisses in the kitchen, where mary had just been trying to be all over you. this was very focused. you dropped the one hand that had been on your towel away, letting it fall between your bodies while you held mary's attention in the kiss. mary's hands came up to rest on your waist, and she let out a surprised little gasp to feel your skin against hers.

"do you think that i could have that?" you asked as you grabbed at mary's shirt. she pulled it over her head without a second thought and handed it right over to you. mary seemed to realize that you were getting dressed a second too late because she whined as you pulled her shirt over her head. "i was getting cold."

"i can tell," mary said as she reached up towards your boobs. you swatted her hands away and slipped off of her lap. mary tilted her head as she watched you put on a pair of boxers to sleep in. they had been from before you left manchester, and while mary hadn't mentioned it, you had really been hitting the gym in germany. the fabric of the boxers rode up way more on your thighs and ass, which were threatening to peek out from the bottom.

"are you ready for bed?" you asked mary. she shook her head, but made absolutely no effort to move an inch. you knew that she'd be out like a light the moment that you laid down in her arms. there was only one thing that would keep mary awake this late if she was already in bed and after your long day of travel, you weren't quite up to it yet. "i love you."

"i love you too," mary muttered as she kissed the side of your forehead. she laid back and let you get situated on top of her. it had been a long time since you had gotten to fall asleep to a good mary earps cuddle, and you were going to enjoy your injury time out while you had it.

[pelova4president]

Shadows are to protect II

Victoria Pelova x Putellas!Reader

Alessia Russo x Putellas!Reader

Shadows are to protect I, III, IV

summary~ When you finally start to thrive at Arsenal there’s still one person that’s holding you back.

You sat there. In the dark, on your grey couch, the picture of you and Alexia staring at you. The bright light of your screen brightened your face like the Barcelona sun had done a few months ago. You couldn’t run away anymore, you were stuck. No one to talk to and no one to come home to.

Looking down at your screen again you saw the little beads of salty water resting on your screen. And even though you’ve been lonely for far too long you’ve never let the evidence of salty water show it. You never really were a crier, Alexia had always told you to be strong and not to show anyone those emotions, they made you seem weaker than your were.

But when you really needed her she didn’t say a thing about being strong. When you’d go home and cried, you cried in her arms. She held you when you needed to without doubt. She didn’t need you to tell her what was wrong, she just knew that you needed her so she’d be there, always.

‘Ale, i need you’

And that’s how you landed on the first morning flight to Barcelona you could find. The ticket was as pricey as they could get but that didn’t matter, you just needed your sister.

The welcome was warm, like always. It was all too familiar. The airport where you’ve landed and departed from all those Barca years. The sun was at it’s brightest and it almost melted you to the dark tarmac of the airfield. And somehow that thought felt more enjoyable than any thought you had in the past week. Being stuck to Barcelona.

Alexia had told you to be strong and that she’ll visit you soon but you didn’t think that soon would be soon enough.

You got into an severely overpriced taxi at the airport and directed him towards your sisters house. The car was hot and it felt like your skin was melting away. You could see little beads of sweat forming on your driver’s forehead. You didn’t think you could miss a warm sweaty car this much but you had been missing it.

When the vibrating car stopped moving and the motor of the car was cooling down you got out. With both of your feet on the sidewalk of Alexia’s house you were stuck. You traveled all the way to her home to stand still in front of it.

She probably wasn’t even home. The Barca girls had training from 9 to at least 1 if they were lucky. When you finally got the courage to take another step you looked under one of the plants in front of her door. It was dead, you were sure of it but she kept it anyway. Honestly, you didn’t get it. Why do people get plants they know they can’t take care of. It just so sad to see something that was once so green and full of life dry out.

Alexia’s house was cold. Her dog Nala was waiting for her to return but was surprised by the sight of you. You hadn’t seen Nala in a while but you were so sure she would’ve remembered you, she would always remember you, like everyone else right? You loved Nala.

When you scrolled through an ad of a shelter for dogs you saw Nala. You read her description and immediately knew you had to give her a new life. Alexia was in a dark place and so was Nala, they needed eachother. So the next week you picked the princess up and drove to your sisters house to surprise her.

Alexia wasn’t really fond of having a dog in house but that changed so quick. Nala was Alexia’s princess, and yours too.

But Nala didn’t seem to remember anything from that story anymore. She wasn’t jumping on you or letting out some hard barks. The little dog was growling at you. She seemed to forget you, just like whole Barcelona did.

You sat there, on Alexia’s couch. The one that you used to crash on at least once a week. Nala was sat next to you, she was paying no mind to you. Scrolling through your Instagram feed you saw Alessia with Katie and Caitlin. It made you jealous to some extent. She had friends and you, you didn’t, not really. The girls were nice but they weren’t friends. At the moment you didn’t really have friends anywhere.

You heard the noise of keys and Nala’s ears shot right up. Alexia’s home.

You heard her grunt and drop her training bag at the door. Nala’s steps were going towards your sister and so were yours. “Hola, hermana.” you welcomed her. Her eyes shot up to your face and her arms flew open to embrace you.

You almost sprung into her arms. Alexia didn’t say anything, she just held you and you didn’t let go. “you’re gonna be okay.” she whispered and that’s when you lost it. Tears started to stream down your face. Alexia’s grey sweater had taken a darker shade of grey and she could feel the deathly grip you had on her sweater.

“I’m not gonna be okay Ale. I don’t know what i’m doing.” you cried. She didn’t assure you you didn’t, she didn’t tell you that you just needed to get used to England. She just hummed. And it kind of made you love her even more for it. She didn’t offer you some fake sympathy talk, she kept it real.

The both of you didn’t say much more that day. You went to sleep early and Alexia crawled next to you later that night. With her arms around you and a kiss to your forehead she wished you goodnight. It was nights like these that you missed more than anything.

You woke up around 4 am. Nala and Alexia were dead asleep so you picked your phone up from your nightstand. You had gotten one message. ‘Hey, i didn’t see you at practice today, are you okay? If you want to talk to anyone, i’m here’ you read. Victoria Pelova cared about you?

You knew Alessia and Victoria were good friends. And it made sense Alessia probably hadn’t told Victoria about.. you. Just like you still hadn’t told anyone about Alessia.

Alexia grumbled a bit and opened her eyes. “What are you doing hermanita?” she asked you tiredly. “Pelova, you know her. She was wondering where i was today and asked me if i’m okay and if i needed someone to talk to.” you explained. Alexia hummed understandingly. “I think you should talk to her. Maybe you’d get along eh?” she thought aloud.

She was right, you had to give her a chance. She was being nice and it wasn’t like you had any other friends in London. So you texted her back, ‘I’m in Barcelona at the moment, just needed to see some family. Maybe we could talk when i’m back?’.

Alexia didn’t exactly say that she wanted you out of her house after day three but you knew she did. So when she came home after training you took that as your cue to travel back to the still red North London.

You came home around dinner time and didn’t really have anything to eat. ‘Are you back in England yet?’ Victoria had texted. You texted her that you were and if she wanted to come over to order something. And in less than twenty minutes she was knocking on your door.

“I took some Chinese takeout with me on the way, hope you don’t mind?” she smiled. You thanked her with a grin.

Victoria seemed like a very extroverted and outspoken and maybe even a bit annoying type to you at training. But maybe that was just because she was hanging around Katie, Beth and Kyra. But now she seemed a lot calmer, the opposite of annoying really.

Vic didn’t mention your absence which was nice, you didn’t really want to explain all of that to her. You didn’t expect to have a lot in common with the Dutch girl. She had a really warm presence and you loved every bit of it. Maybe all you needed was a friend here.

Victoria was waiting at the entrance of the training centre. “Buen día!” she waved. “I didn’t know you could speak Spanish.” you said. “I can’t but i’ve started my Duolingo streak Spanish since yesterday!” she smiled proudly. She made you so happy, she learned Spanish just for you. You were starting to feel thankful for Alexia’s advice.

“I guess i’ll have to learn Dutch now?” you laughed. She nodded her head and offered to learn you Dutch if you gave her some Spanish lessons. It seemed like a pretty good deal.

You started to spend a lot more time with the brunette. She was good company and you actually started to learn Dutch. You planned a trip to The Netherlands together. She would show you the city and her previous club, Ajax.

Everything was going better. You were in a better mental place and physically you were unstoppable. Jonas started to give you a place in the starting lineup almost every game and even the fans started to love you. You even got your very own chant. You were on top of the League and could not be held back any longer, you were finally thriving in London.

Alessia was the only problem keeping you from being fully happy. Even though you only saw her at practice and games she still was being bitter to you. Whenever you were talking to Victoria she took her away from you with some bad excuse. It was hard for you to feel at home in the changing room without Victoria around.

Naturally fans started to speculate about the two of you. They were saying that you were in a relationship with the midfielder and that you’ve been hiding it for a while now. Victoria was a good friend, your bestfriend but that was it. Nothing more. You hadn’t had those sort of feelings since Alessia and they still hadn’t totally gone away. It was shit to still have those feelings for someone who made it very clear she didn’t reciprocate those feelings. So you opted to ignore those feeling all together.

Victoria came over after practice to bake a pie for your upcoming birthday. She told you that she was an absolute pro in baking apple pie but you knew she was lying. No way that the girl that couldn’t even cook rice without burning it can bake an actual good pie.

And just like you had predicted the pie wasn’t really pie-ing. There was flour and cinnamon all over your kitchen and on both of your clothes. “Sukkel!” you shouted at her when she tipped her glass of water off the counter. But you started laughing when she slipped and fell right to the ground that was still covered in white flour.

“Fuck!” she cursed whilst you were trying to hold yourself up while laughing uncontrollably.

The night went by quickly like it always did with the midfielder.

Victoria has been the little light in your dark thoughts and you were so thankful for her but when you bid her goodnight you didn’t expect her to kiss you. She was stood in front of you, in a black hoodie with white spots on it from your kitchen adventure. Her cheeks were red from all the laughing and drinking. And she was leaning in to kiss you.

You didn’t stop her though. And you definitely didn’t stop her when you saw the door across from yours open. You didn’t stop her when blue eyes focused on the two of you. And you didn’t stop when you heard a door shut.

Victoria waved goodbye and you stood still, staring at the two plants placed on the ground in front of you. The ones you had gifted Alessia. They were dead. You were the only one that kept them alive and now they were dead. You failed them.

[lady-ashfade]

is there any chance you can do a yander clarisse fic? Im not too sure about but maybe reader is kinda naive and sweet and Clarisse is really overprotective sorry this is vague im not sure what else

You got it!

Yandere!Romantic! Clarisse La Rue x Demeter's daughter!reader

-£ my first time really writing for her! Hope you like it. And you didn’t say what kind of reader you wanted so it is fem, and also didn’t know if you wanted romance or platonic. If you are upset with this you can request again!

-£ warnings: short, yandere behavior, stalking, slight mentions of violence, swearing, reader being to naive to notice, changing perspectives half way through,

she never liked flowers. She found them annoying, when she realized it was what she was “supposed” to like. no, she likes to play in the dirt and rough house.

until she found one flower that wanted to keep safe. and her name was y/n and oh, was she beautiful. she didn’t realize how pretty nature could be until she saw how you created and helped the flowers, grass and anything you could find.

“do that again,” the girl looked at her with confusions, “smile, I like it.”

Clarisse didn’t truly know how she could have wrapped herself at her around her finger so easily and without trying. from the first time watching her grow a patch of flowers in the woods made her entranced.

at first she watched from far away, not scared. just getting the feel. but day after day of watching her smile with her siblings and other people, when she didn’t even get a glance? it was unfair. but she would prove herself.

knocking a boy over at lunch just before her table, making sure she would see, Clarisse just stared at the boy with a playful smirk knowing he wouldn’t do anything about it. After the boy ran away she glanced over to the table, finding those eyes looking back at her. it was a high greater then any blessing she could have.

Everything got worse from there. Clarisse had no control over herself sometimes and she got that from her father. This is where you two finally start hanging out. Everywhere you turned she was always close or right beside you. Though you didn’t find it strange but as a way to say how much life wanted to kept her around you.

“It’s so nice to have a friend.” You beamed with happiness. Her eyes darkened as her lips curled up into a devilish smirk, “Friends? Yeah.” You didn’t notice the way she was looking at you like a sheep.

She hated how nice you were to everyone who approached you at camp. How you would smile and bat your eyes and are willing to help anyone who asked. That was her attention. That was her smile. That was her girl..

She was so relieved that you never noticed anything about her. And how everyone that seem to spend to much time around you seemed to avoid being at least ten feet near you.

Every few days she found herself in the woods, deep in the night with one hand clinging to someone’s shirt and the other one raised. that hand was covered in blood and her knuckles bruised. No real harm. Just a warning to keep them away.

When she finally asked you out. She was able to hold you close now, not that she didn’t already, but she could kiss your lips anytime she wanted. Her hand stayed on your hip to hold you close. Like a leash incase you want to run off.

And gods, did it feel good to show you off.

[celestialwhoree]

older bf price and his younger spitfire of a girl. always giddy always running around, until it’s night time and she makes a little nest to cuddle up on and sleep in the middle of the bed 🥺 just soft and protective john

John is just like a big bear in my mind!! All cuddly n grumbly n protective and I love him your honour!🫡💕

౨ৎ

John would never have expected to fall for someone like you. God no. A man of his age, his seniority, he needed someone at a similar point in their life as him. That was what he thought. Until he met you. Perhaps, what he really needed was someone to make him feel young again, to bring the energy back into his life and remind him that not everything revolves around paperwork, guns and fighting.

Gaz had introduced the two of you, bringing you to the pub with the guys in order to introduce them to his frequently spoken of best friend, who he'd grown up next door to. He'd told the guys how absolutely distraught you'd been when he'd enlisted, and he'd introduced you to his teammates ever since to allow you the peace of mind of at least knowing that he wasn't alone in his path, and that he was surrounded by good men. He'd wanted you to meet Price most of all - the man who he'd trusted his life with far too many times to count. To Gaz, you were the best gift he could ever think of giving John. The captain had been immediately smitten with you and your quick wit. The intelligence behind your eyes was impossible to miss, and the wickedness of your smile only served to make him want you more.

That was three years ago. Ever since then, you'd hit it off. John had given you everything, and you'd become his everything. You kept him perpetually on his toes with your impossibly quick wit and jokes that made him laugh until his belly ached. Your home was full of love and laughter, and whilst you'd finally found someone who matched your stupid sense of humour, and was more than willing to bankroll all of the hobbies you picked up, John had found someone to show him what life could be if he looked beyond the scope of a gun.

The evenings were always his favourite, coming home from base to be bombarded by a fray of limbs and hair as you ran to fling yourself into him, ever energetic from his presence alone. Long ago he'd called you the energiser bunny, and even now it stuck. "Hey, bun." He'd coo into your hair, and you'd spend the evenings cuddled up together on the couch, or pottering around the kitchen making dinner and drinking wine. For him though, the best part of all of your evenings would come when he'd carry you upstairs to your shared bedroom, dropping you onto the puffy, far too expensive duvet you'd both splurged on and shimmying into bed beside you. You'd stay up for hours chatting away about anything and nothing, curled up safe and so desperately in love with one another until eventually you'd drift off to sleep.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

My Favorite Pet

BDSM Preformer!Fem!Reader! X subby! Wanda

Summary: You've hit your limit when you can't find a partner to click with at work until a new plaything comes along.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI!, obviously BDSM themes at play, collar leash play, exhibitionism and voyeurism, pet play, pet names (R is referred by W as Mommy, W is referred by R as pet and plaything along with amor) degradation, praise, R uses strap on W, rope play, vibrator use, edge play, aftercare

Word count: 4.5K

A/N: I loved writing this, and I still have more I want to do with this, so if you like it, there could be a part 2 in the future

Having all eyes on you was something you normally dreaded. You hated knowing that people were looking or staring at you. Normally you’d want to be invisible, but not now; not on stage. Fuck did it feel good to have people watching you get degraded or degrade someone else. To toy and tease, bending to your pleasure. 

You stood above him, cold as you played through your scene; distant. As soon as it ended, you were gone, far away from him and everyone else. Of course, though, he yells after you are trying to get you to stop. You hate it when anyone yells at you, but more specifically, men. 

“What the hell is wrong with you, Y/N!?” He asked as you stopped. Everyone around had their eyes on you, and you shook in place. “Well? What the hell was that? There was nothing behind that! No feeling. No emotion! How are we supposed to give them a good show when it’s all fake?” 

You kept walking, ignoring him and his words. It didn’t matter to you anymore. They’re all the same, and none of them are satisfying to you. 

“Fuck this I’m done. Find yourself a new stage partner!” you started running until you went out the back door, out of breath as you fall down. 

How are you supposed to keep this job when you can’t work with anyone here? You can’t do anything else. This is all you're good at. You are not going to go back to being a teacher again. You loved that, but this was on a whole other level of making you happy and paying the bills that’s for sure.

“Y/N/N?” You hear the familiar voice of your best friend, Kate, call out to you. You look up at her, and she realizes the tears in your eyes. “Oh Y/N, what happened?” She sits down next to you, the warm summer night air feeling good on your skin.

“I can’t work with any of them. There’s no feeling behind it and none of them want to work with me if I can’t do that, but I haven’t been able to do that since…” you shake your head trying not to think of bad thoughts, back to your last partner, well your last partner before Kate. You feel her arms wrap around you, pulling you close. 

“Listen to me. She’s nothing. Got it? She’s a shit person, and she doesn’t control you.” You nod slowly, choosing to think of the better times with Kate. You sniffled a bit, and Kate held you tighter. You and Kate had dated for a bit, but you two realized you were better as friends.

“You’ll be okay, let’s go home.” She got up, pulling you up with her. 

You hadn’t been to the club in a week even though the manager keeps calling you to ask if you want to do a performance. You can’t though…nobody wants you as their partner. You can’t put emotions into something that you have no emotion towards. 

You're lying on Kate’s couch with a blanket pulled up to your chin and scrolling on your social media. You've been staying here instead of your house because you didn’t want to be alone. Kate’s wife, Yelena, is pretty amazing, too. The three of you get along really well. She’s at the end of the couch with your feet on her lap as she watches something on TV. Your phone buzzes again, and it’s your manager, Natasha, who is Yelena’s older sister; you sigh and get Yelena’s attention before answering it. 

“Yes Tasha?” you asked, sounding exhausted even to yourself. You shifted onto your back and looked at Lena, who raised an eyebrow. Mouthing ‘Sestra?’ Which you nod to her.

“Can you come tonight? I need you to help out with a new girl. She’s going to be starting tonight. She’s a year younger than you and I think it’d be good for both of you.” You sigh again, not really wanting to go out tonight, especially not there where you have to dress up and put on a show. 

“Domme or sub?” you ask, noticing Yelena’s smirking.

“Sub it seems.” Submissive boys are fun to play with, but girls are always a lot more fun to play with.

“Alright…what time?” you could hear her perk up.

“The usual time. Five to close.” You sigh again. After not being there for a week, you were not looking forward to a nine hour shift.

“I’ll be there, no promises on how good I’ll be.” You let her know and hung up. You closed your eyes, and Lena spoke,

“We going to the club tonight?” Lena wiggled her eyebrows at you. As if doesn’t visit her sister every night or work on the back end of the business with Kate.

“Yeah there’s a new girl they want me to show her the ropes, literally.” you both laugh at the pun as Kate comes in the front door.

“What’s so funny?” She asks setting her keys down in the bowl they keep by the entry way.

“Y/N’s gotta show a new girl the ropes.” Kate’s expression falls.

“You two are idiots.”

“We’re your idiots though~” you say and get up with a smile. “This could end up being a fun evening.” 

You had Kate and Yelena take you back home so you could go choose an outfit. It was simple enough, just a red silk button-up with a black tie and a black button-up vest and some black dress pants as well as a pair of black loafers. You checked yourself over in the mirror and slicked your Y/H/C hair back. 

Your phone vibrates multiple times in a row, and you know it’s Kate. You smile and roll your eyes as you grab your phone. Five new text messages from her. 

“You’re still going right?”

“Don’t make me drag you there!”

“Hey!”

“Answer me!”

“Where are you??”

You type out a message to her, “Yes, I’m going. I’ll be there in five.” You barely get to set your phone down before another reply comes in from her,

“See you there ily <3” You smile at your phone and reply to it before sliding it into your pocket along with my other belongings.

≈≈≈

The club was always so quiet before hours as the three of you made your way inside past Bucky the bouncer who always loved to see you. Familiar faces on you, some happy and others not so much as you made my way to Tasha letting her know to send the new girl to your room and then headed there. Kate and Yelena stayed behind, grabbing a drink from the bartender, Scott.

You were putting the finishing touches on your make-up when there was a knock at your door. “Come in.” you called, when the door opened you looked through your mirror to see probably the most beautiful woman you had ever met, auburn hair, piercing emerald green eyes that you could see from across the room, she wore a short black dress with a red leather crop jacket, she wore knee high ripped stockings, and ankle cuff boots, the make-up around her green eyes was dark and smoky in a way that reminded me of high school.

“Hi you’re Y/N, right?” She asked and fuck she has an accent which is your biggest weakness. You love accents of all kinds and most of them turn you on. 

“Yes that is me. I unfortunately wasn’t told your name, just that you’re new and would be my new partner.” She smiled at you.

“Wanda. Wanda Maximoff.” She told me.

“Wanda...” You tested the name on your lips. “Beautiful.” You smiled and noticed her blush. “Come here.” You beckoned, and she finally stepped in, sauntering over to you. “Spin around.” She does as told, spinning slowly as I looked her over, drinking up every inch of her. “Stop.” you commanded as she faced you again. “Kneel.” She got down without a word of protest, “Such a good girl.” You smirk. “Now tell me, is there anything I should know about you, Wanda?” you ask and she pulls out the forms that everyone has to fill out of their kinks, hard limits, soft limits, and some personal questions mainly about health issues that your play partner should be aware of, allergies, and if you have any STDs. The last question is about safe sex which Wanda takes birth control much like myself. Not that you ever actually do it with the guys.

As far as tastes go, Wanda and you are pretty much on the same page with your likes and dislikes, which makes you smile. “I can work with this.” You tilt her chin up using your fingers. She had been looking at the floor this whole time, “Now for my own personal questions for you, Wanda. Which name do you like better, pet, puppy, kitten, baby, or something else entirely?” You ask her.

“Pet is always a good one for me. I tend to have Doms that tell me what I am, why does it matter which I like best?” She tilts her head to the side so innocently. 

“I want to get the best reaction out of you. The whole performance is you. All eyes on your reactions, and they need to be genuine. No form of play is good if you don’t follow one simple rule.” You tell her, and she tilts her head the opposite way. You lean down slightly, so you're eye level with her. “I may be the Domme, but you are in control of the whole scene. You’re the one who holds control over all of it.” You tell her, and she looks so confused. 

“What are you talking about? I’m not in control at all. You control me. You tie me up, you degrade me, you turn me into a dumb slut because you’ve fucked me until I can’t even think how am I in control?” you bite your lip at the idea of everything she just said to you, soaking it in and remembering it for your performance. 

“Safe word.” You start, “You hold all of the control because you hold the safe word. The thing that will end everything. Make me stop dead in my tracks and make sure you’re okay. Make sure you are safe.” You're looking into the deep emerald eyes, and she’s staring back into my own Y/E/C ones. “You really never had a good Dom who took care of you, did you?” You tilt your head.

“They took care of me in the way that mattered.” She tried defending, but I knew she didn't have a leg to stand on in this aspect.

“Aftercare.” You state simply, and she looks at you with her face contorting in confusion.

“What?”

“Have you ever had aftercare?”

“I...what is that?” Your heart sinks at her response.

“How many Dom/sub relationships have you been in?” 

“Seven.” She swallows hard. Seven BDSM relationships and not one of them took care of this girl?

“Aftercare is what you do when the scene ends. This is where the Dom makes sure that you come back from subspace in a safe way and not crashing back; it can have bad effects on your mental and physical health. I always have my subs tell me what they like best, for me personally when I’m the sub I tend to ask for cuddles and I can just scroll on my phone watching tiktok and YouTube shorts that I can share with my partner. I’ve had subs that ask for cuddles and words of affirmation, I’ve had baths after a scene is done, surprisingly I even had one that just wanted to always go for a walk in the park after.” ypu shrug, “Everyone is different. What is something you think you’d like to do?” You ask, and she thinks for a moment.

“I really enjoy cooking, and I’m always hungry after sex. I’ve always just cooked by myself, making a meal for my Dom.” She confesses.

“Well then, after we finish our performance, you and I can go back to my place, it’s only a few blocks away, and we can cook dinner. Does that sound good?” She blushes and nods. You cup her cheeks, brushing the pads of your thumbs across her cheeks, loving the feeling of her smooth skin beneath your tips. “I’m going to take care of you, Wanda. We have a long night ahead of us. While others perform until it’s our turn, luckily they saved us for last, we’ll be going around the club and introducing you to our clientele. I’ll introduce you as my pet or plaything. You have no name to them, at least as a sub. Well, even as a Domme, I shouldn’t have a name, but they all know me out there, so they call me by my name.” You let her know, and she’s listening intently. 

“Yes...uh...”

“Miss, Mistress, Master, Sir, Mommy. Whichever you prefer. I love all of them.”

“Yes...Mommy.” you smiled at her, running your fingers through her hair. 

“My good baby.” I haven’t felt like this since her. It's been so long since you thought you'd never feel like this with a partner again. “How about we get you all dressed up,  pretty girl. As much as I love this outfit you’ve chosen. I’d like you in something a little different.” You smirk, and she nods happily, ready and willing to follow. 

You get her dressed in a red lace lingerie set with black accents and roses over it, along with garter belts and a pair of black thigh highs. You get her all fixed up and dolled up. “There’s a pretty girl.” You put your thumb and middle finger on either side of her chin. “I can’t wait to have you screaming later.” You tease as you grab a little lacey red and black collar for her to match that you put on her, a little tag hanging from it that says ‘Property of  Y/N/N’ 

“Y/N/N?” Wanda questions.

“My nickname. It feels more personal than one that has my Domme title. Besides, I have like six that I rotate through. My nickname is always permanent.” You explain, and her biting her lip and blushing doesn’t go unnoticed by you. 

≈≈≈

“Y/N, Miss. Romanoff wants you on stage for a solo.” MJ, Natasha’s ‘assistant’ tells me, you internally and externally groan, rolling your neck. You're about to throw a tantrum when Tasha rounds the corner, giving you her signature look.

“Yeah, no. I’m having none of your attitude after ghosting us for a week. You’ll go up there, and you WILL have a good time. You’ll show your pet just how much fun solos can be. Do I make myself clear? Unless you want a punishment tonight?” Tasha asks, and it just makes you want to groan more. She grabs your face tightly, nails digging in, making you hiss. You aren't in the head space for that as you pull away. 

“Okay Tasha I get it. I’m not in a sub state of mind, so can you lay off.” You bite at her. Tasha was your oldest friend. Older than Kate and who you met in high school. Tasha and you go back to diapers, which is why she puts up with your bullshit at times and other times knowing when you need to be put in your place. Tasha and you have fucked around, you have for years, it was always a good time when you needed to not think for six or more hours.

“Then act like it. I set up your Playlist.” 

“Okay fine. Let’s go, pet.” You tug on the leash that is attached to the collar around her neck. When you get in front of the stage, you turn to Wanda. “Sit.” She sits front and center on the floor. “Good girl. Watch me.” 

“Who’s ready for some good entertainment!?” You call out, you're back to the crowd as they roar back as ‘Hey Look Ma, I Made it’ starts playing, and you're taking over the stage. Suddenly, you're a whole other person. Captivating everyone, locking eyes, you dance and sing around. Next plays ‘Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off’ and you smirk, looking at Wanda as you crawl over to her. So long as you don’t pull her up on the stage it’s still a solo performance. Tasha doesn’t have rules about involving audience members so long as they don’t come on the stage.

You fuck with her almost the whole song as you move around, touching yourself, moaning out as the crowd roars, money finding it’s way to the stage as you practically get yourself off in front of them. As the song crescendos, you feel an orgasm rack through your body as you lock eyes with Wanda, watching her squirm, thighs so tightly pressed against each other, and you smirk at her as your performance ends. Collecting your earnings and bowing as you get off the stage, grabbing Wanda’s leash and pulling her. 

“Let’s go. Now.” You pull her back to your dressing room, locking the door behind you. “Strip. Now.” She seems taken aback by it as you start taking off the little clothes you had left after your performance. She starts doing the same, and once you're both undressed, you push her back onto the bed in your dressing room. Moving yourself between her thighs, which are covered in her juices, you can smell her, and you feel hazy from how good she smells. Without asking you dive right in, letting your tongue swipe over her folds as she moans out, you moan out at how good she tastes, so fucking sweet,

“Ah! M-Mommy!” You flick both your tongue and your eyes up at her. Watching as her face twists in pleasure, expertly working your tongue over her and sucking on her clit. “Please...”

“Please what?” 

“Please fuck me.” you smirk at her words.

“Oh you can do better than that pet. Go on, beg for it.”

“Please Mommy fuck me with your fingers! Please fill me up with your fingers and make me cum until I can’t think!” you do as asked and push two fingers inside making her moan out as she grabs your hair, rutting against your face as you lay your tongue out flat for her to ride against as you pump your fingers in her. “F-Faster..Harder...” She’s whimpering and so you add a third finger making it a little harder to move as her walls clench around your slender digits. 

“Oh good girl, so tight for Mommy. Are you going to cum from Mommy’s fingers?” 

“Yes Mommy!”

“Did you enjoy my performance pet?”

“Yes Mommy!”

“Did you want to touch yourself when you saw me like that?” 

“Yes Mommy! I wanted to touch myself. I wanted to crawl on stage and eat you and please you and...ah...Mommy.” Her words sent fire to your core. 

“Cum.” you tell her and moments later she’s unraveling in front of you. A moaning, whimpering, mewling mess. “Good girl...so good for Mommy.” you lick up what you can off your face, moaning once more at the taste as you move up, brushing your thumb across her bottom lip, “Open.” She opens her mouth allowing your fingers inside as she looks you in the eye, cleaning them. “Mmmm fuck...” you felt that familiar feeling in your chest as your eyes bore into each other, the feelings she was sending through you. You knew what this was and you don’t think you've ever fallen faster.

“More?” you laugh a bit at her request.

“Oh you’ll get plenty during our performance, pretty girl. Don’t worry Mommy’s going to take good care of you.”

≈≈≈

When Wanda stood, she was taller than you, which meant on stage she'd be kept on her knees. You made sure she had on knee pads since we'd be performing for over an hour. 

“Hello out there to all you lovely people! Welcome to the last performance of the night here at The Red Room!” Of course, there were some people making disheartening noises. “Don't you worry my pet and I will make sure that this is a performance you can go home later and think about while you fuck yourselves!” you call out as you get things ready. “Now my pet is new. It is her first performance tonight. Shall I go easy on her?” A roar of no's came from the crowd. “Well I'm glad it's not up to you. I'm going to give her everything she wants and needs. When I'm done with her she's going to be a dumb slut with no thoughts.” you make a clicking noise with your mouth, signaling Wanda to come out, crawling as she makes her way to me. Before your performance you told her to keep her eyes on you unless you told her otherwise. Mostly to help with her nerves. When she got to your legs she nuzzled into them. Yoi ran your fingers through her hair. 

“I'd like everyone to meet my new pet to those who didn't get the opportunity earlier. She's a sweet little plaything, and I'm going to break her so good before your eyes tonight.” You look down at Wanda and smile as you grip her hair, pulling as she mewls. You loved hearing her sounds. She looked up at you, eyes already blown with lust just from the eyes on her. 

You get her up on the bed we have up on the stage. It has this amazing bathroom blanket for any messes that are made, which is amazing. 

“Strip.” She does as told, taking off her lingerie set you put her in, leaving her in only your collar, you smiled down at her. “Tão bonita.(So beautiful)” You speak in Portuguese, which throws her off momentarily, not knowing what you've said to her. 

You grab the ropes and start tying her up expertly. Doing your signature pentagram harness, whispering as you tighten the ropes down her arms, “Are you comfortable?” 

“Yes Mommy.” You smile and kiss her neck, nibbling and making sure you mark her up. She's yours. No one else is taking her from you.

You have her kneeling for you, back arched perfectly as the vibrator sits against her clit and you pound into her with your 8 inch strap. “Who are you?” you ask, grabbing her hair, pulling her against your chest. 

“Mommy’s dumb little cock slut!” She cries out. You’ve been edging her for just about an hour. Every time she's come close you stop everything and whisper sweet nothings in her ears. All the makeup she's put on is ruined and staining her cheeks from the tears in her eyes. “You look so cute when you cry, amor.” 

“M-Mommy please…can't take n’more. Cum Mommy?” She was begging and mewling as you left marks over her back. You push all 8 inches back inside, bottoming out as you push her face down into the mattress. 

“My fucking slut wants to cum?” you ask.

“Yes! Yes, Mommy! Please! Please, Mommy! Wan’cum on Mommy's cock!”

“Go on slut. Cum all over my cock.” Wanda cums on your command, shaking intensely as she squeezes so tight it's hard to move, but the friction is enough to get you off. “F-fuck!” you moan out as you bottom out inside her and rutt against her as she collapses beneath you. Completely engulfed in subspace as I slowly pull out of her. 

“Thank you, everyone. I hope you enjoyed my pet's first performance and any further tips are always appreciated.” You say with a bow as various customers and clients leave us tips on the stage. You leave Steve, who cleans up the stage between performances to clean it up as you untie Wanda, the rope marks deep in her skin, more marks from me. You toss aside the strap after the curtain has closed and pick Wanda up. She's taller than you, but you're strong enough to do this much as you take her back to your dressing room. Laying her down on your bed as you grab comfy clothes of sweatpants and a baggy shirt for her. Throwing leggings and a sweatshirt on yourself, not bothering with anything else for us besides shoes. “Let's go to my house, amor. Can you walk?” You ask, and she nods, but almost falls when she tries to stand on her own. “I've got you. Come on, let's go get you that aftercare.” You have your arm around her waist as you walk out.

You set Wanda up on your countertop as she figured out a recipe to make and you counted out your tips dividing it in half.

“Here you go, amor. Your half.” You hand it to her, 

“How much is it?” She asks, eyes coming off the screen as she looks at the wad I'm handing her.

“$750. Don't expect it every time. Our performance was new, and people were excited. I've had nights where I only make $50. Either way, though, just remember that there's always tomorrow.” You tell her.

“Y/N?” 

“hmm?” 

“How long have you done this for?” She asks, and you notice how she is now coming back fully as she looks around your penthouse. 

“10 years.” 

“How old are you?”

“28. I've been doing this since I was 18. Natasha and I go way back to being in diapers. Our parents were friends growing up. Tasha is a few years older than me and established the club while I finished up high school. Once I turned 18, she let me join the club.” Wanda nodded, listening.

“How many-”

“Too many. I'd rather not think about that, okay, amor?” You had cut her off. You didn't want to think about past partners. All you wanted was her at this moment. 

You move between her legs, kissing gently over the marks you've left on her neck. “I only want to think about you right now.” You admit against her neck, and you feel her relax.

“I'm okay with that.” You smiled against her neck. 

“How about we make some pasta? I've got a carb craving right now.” you ask, looking up at her. Though I'd be dominant all night, looking up at her from between her legs just felt right. 

“Sounds good to me.” She cupped your cheeks and leaned down, pulling you up so your lips met, and you melted a bit. She was perfect.

The two of you were curled up on your couch watching sitcoms. You had found out they were Wanda's favorites. You were lying down. You were laying on her mainly because she pulled you in this way. “Shhh I wanna hold you.” Had been her response, and you didn't argue with her. Laying here with your head on her chest, hearing her heartbeat as she gently scratched my scalp eventually lulled you to sleep.

[sleekswosobession]

recovery takes time

part 2 of ‘you are broken on the floor’

alexia putellas x keeper!reader

request: here

A/N: reminder that i’m a writer and not a med student so idk what times are like for this..

also since y’all wanted me to ask more questions.. if you’ve experienced anything paranormal lmk because i’m interested in that stuff and experienced stuff myself so 🤷

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The first few weeks of recovery are the worst, you can’t do anything at all. Even walking is a challenge, how would you ever go back to where you were?

Alexia was always by your side though, helping wherever she could considering you weren’t allowed to lift anything. The concussion went away as expected and now was just a long journey of recovery ahead.

“You and I both know you’ll be back out on the soon, give yourself time. Recovery isn’t a quick process, remember what you told me when I did my ACL.” She’d say things similar to that, and for a while you’d believe her until you saw what the media kept saying.

As much as it affected your mental health, it only made you want to come back stronger and be better, to prove the critics wrong. To show the world who you were and that you were staying.

- - - - -

After 10 weeks, you could do regular tasks again. It did tire you out but it gave you strength and the feeling you had control over something. It’s something you so desperately needed, outside of Alexia of course.

You started to head back to the training grounds for meetings with physios and trainers who were doing their best to assess where to start when lifting weights and doing other flexible motions with your arms and chest that isn’t too harsh.

While it still isn’t much, it’s still something. That’s all that matters.

- - - - -

When you were first cleared to lift 5kg, Alexia was there. She always was when you had more progress in getting closer to the pitch. She was your number 1 supporter and it really encouraged you to be better.

When you could fully stretch your arms without pain or feeling uncomfortable, she was there.

When you could go back to lifting regular weights in gym sessions, she’d watch you while feeling immense pride at how far you’d come.

When you were kicked balls to for the first time again, she watched and congratulated every ball you saved.

She’s your knight in shining armour.

- - - - -

The day of your first game, a year of recovery behind you. You were finally starting for your club again. You stand tall behind your girlfriend who sports the armband.

Ever since it was announced you were in training and back in the squad, the media had been relentless. Asking too many questions. Wondering too many things.

You had one job tonight, and that was to show the world who you were. Who you are. Who you will be.

You walk out, fans yelling and cheering as the Barça anthem plays in the background. You missed this so bad.

- - - - -

The game was tough, some shots on you but you managed to keep a clean sheet. Alexia smiling and crowd roaring at you as you did so.

When the final whistle blows, Ale runs to you first pulling you into a crushing hug.

“Mi amor, you did so well.” She wraps her arms around your waist and kisses your neck.

“Thanks Ale, couldn’t have done it without you.” You reply, hands brushing up and down her back.

No matter what happened in life, you’d always want to do it with Alexia. Only Alexia.

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i’m gonna close my requests for the time being so i can get through my 7 other works 🙏