#they make captions much easier

[brilliantfantasticgeronimo]

snow. hope. life. memories. dust. ashes. death. beaches.

[icewindandboringhorror]

More misc. daily life pictures and such

[chiropteracupola]

Spring's a girl from the streets at night...

[btsbs]

.

[planet4546b]

im editing and didnt draft the edit of this one. please pray for me

[vaugarde]

now that im on best wishes season 2 (in the sub, dub wise its been “rival destinies” for a while. hm.) im kinda curious to see how i process these episodes in the present. i havent seen most of them since they aired when i was a kid and i remember it being a mixed bag? in that there was a lot of stuff i remember not liking, like iris’s dragonite and ash’s charizard coming back for no reason (actually most of the nostalgia baiting was stuff i didnt care for back then? bc id get like frustrated that besides charizard they didnt commit, like the caterpie episode), and decolore was def a hit or miss in its structure

but also, this season had the N and team plasma arc and literally solidified concordia and anthea as some of my favorite human characters, i do remember liking dawn and some of the world cup stuff (tho i dont remember a ton of it, i think i actually missed a few episodes bc i cant even recall if all the rivals show up for the world cup besides trip), and besides some forgettable episodes, i remember really enjoying the decolore islands stuff. considering its basically just them trying to capture the orange island arc vibes from OS and that i liked orange islands, i do have high hopes for it this time around. i’m excited to see how much my opinions will change and if ill like stuff like dragonite better this time.

like i remember not liking “all for the love of meloetta” or really that much of the meloetta arc for some reason... i actually cant tell you why i didnt like it, i think i  was just bitter that i couldnt get meloetta in the game. but this time i thought the episode was really sweet and i appreciated it a lot more considering how JN would later build on what the iris vs cynthia battle set up. i think this season has some more to offer and im optimistic

[kechiwrites]

totally platonic

johnny "soap" mactavish x best friend!reader kinktober countdown, day three (recording)

synopsis: soap helps you give your ex something real to worry about. 🎥

wc: 1.6k

cw: recording / making a sex tape, revenge, allusions to potential cheating (emotional?), fem + afab!reader, anal play, fingering, creampies, unprotected sex, spitting, mentions of cunnilingus

author's note: my first forray into soap, for the anon who asked for soap helping reader get revenge...like a million years ago.

“No, no, into the camera, I don’t want the poor fuck to miss your face when you come. Fucker’s probably never seen it. Not for real anyway.” Soap squeezes at the back of your neck, just firm enough to get you to lift your face out of your pillows. Enough to get you to stare into your phone’s camera. Your eyes make a fevered, strained connection with the tiny lens and a thrill runs through you, up your spine and out of your mouth in the form of Soap’s name. 

“Yes.” He hisses digging his fingertips into the flesh at your hips, tugging you back onto his length. 

Were you your ex, in about an hour or so, you’d get a video attachment with the sparkling heart emoji you loved to use in place of a caption. Were you your ex, you’d open the video, rolling your eyes and anticipating six minutes of you crying and whimpering apologies. Instead, you’d get an eyeful of your glassy expression, your clammy face, your open mouth, mumbling incoherently while Soap’s hips smacked hard against your back side.

You’d have seen the opening moments of the video you're currently shooting where Soap had zoomed in on the puffy lips of your cunt, documenting the way his dick slid over your labia over and over until you moaned deep in your throat off screen. You would’ve heard your own empty headed pleading with Johnny to “stop teasing already” before he sunk into you proper, pushing into your pussy, letting the camera catch him stretching you open, making you take every inch while you drooled obscenities. 

Thankfully though, you aren’t your ex, so you get to experience every second of Soap painstakingly taking you apart live and in-fucking-colour. 

It hadn’t been intentional. Soap is your friend, your best friend. Either of you would proudly take a bullet for the other. You’ve spent years in each other’s company, raiding each other’s fridges, crying on each other’s shoulders, laughing at one another’s dumbass jokes. You fit together like puzzle pieces. 

Totally. Platonic. Puzzle Pieces.

What makes the whole “having sex with your best friend and recording it” thing worse (or better, if you asked Johnny), is that your ex had always doubted the innocence of yours and MacTavish’s relationship, always muttering bitterly in the presence of your friendship. He’d argued over and over that Soap was “into you” and you just “didn’t want to see it”. And maybe you hadn’t. Maybe it made things easier to not address the casual intimacy of your actions, the long hugs, the near mouth kisses, the cuddling. You didn’t even want to consider the much too frequent occasions where you’d catch him staring at your mouth, or when you’d catch yourself leering at his arms, or the sex dreams. The goddamn sex dreams. Night after accursed night of Dream You and Dream Soap going at it like animals. Fucking like it’s what you were born to do.

Fucking the way you are right now.

He clasps a hand around your nape again, squeezing before he runs his palm down your sweat slick back. Soap presses deft fingers against your sides, gripping hard and punching forward again, rocking your entire body towards the camera. He’s going painfully slow, and the heavy glide of his cock inside you is mind-numbing. There’s no way the face you’re making to the camera lens is attractive, but later, when you're cuddled against him in your bed, rewatching the video, Soap will insist it’s perfect. 

Right now though, who gives a fuck what you look like, when you can feel Johnny rearranging your insides with his dick. 

He groans, spreading your ass to get a better look at his cock disappearing into you. “Fuck me.” He draws it out, voice drunk and deep with pleasure. You look over your shoulder at him, whispering something so low it doesn’t get picked up on camera.

And Soap couldn’t have that, could he?

“Tell him.” Your hips stutter, slowing the rhythm the two of you have built, your mind is already clouded with lust, thoughts obscured by the sensation of Johnny fucking you like he hates you.

Or loves you.

You really could not give less of shit about the difference tonight,

“Tell him, sweet.” He jerks his chin at your phone, propped up against a pillow and recording every second of your debasement in the highest definition the three year old device can manage.

Shivers wrack your body but you concede, facing the camera. “I asked him to spit on me.”

“Where did you ask for it? Don’t be shy.” He goads, picking up your slack, jolting you back and forth with deep thrusts, bottoming out then withdrawing until only the flushed scarlet tip of his cock is inside you, only for him to fuck back into you, grinding against your abused walls.

“My ass.” You moan, teeth bared as you try to breathe through your impending orgasm. “I asked him to spit on my ass.” You pant the answer, ”Cause you never wanted to.”

Soap’s laugh is boisterous, vindictive and loud, and he obliges you, finally, spitting at the furl of your asshole. The sensation makes you shiver, and you clench down on him, nearly wailing when your best friend’s thumb begins rubbing insistently at the rim of your hole, spreading his spit with purpose.

“Think I can get my thumb in there?” He huffs, and bends over, his chest blanketing your back so his face is in the camera too. Soap drags the very tip of her tongue over the shell of your ear, biting down softly on your earlobe, sucking at the skin beneath it before he addresses the lens this time, “Whaddya say, Leo? Think I can get my thumb in ‘er?” He rubs his forehead against the nape of your neck before levering back up, out of frame. “I think I can.” He murmurs happily, pressing the pad of the digit against your hole, quietly urging you to push against him, to breathe easy, until you part around the finger. Your whole body just melts as you get used to it, being full. Johnny begins moving again, stroking you deep then grinding inside you, rubbing his hands over your sides, squeezing, groping, touching like he can’t believe you’re here. Like he can’t believe he gets to have you like this.

He wiggles his thumb, pulling it to the side so he can stare at how he’s filled you completely. You can practically hear him ruminating on how he was going to convince you to let him fuck you there, stretch your ass open and spill his seed where no one had before. Lay an irrefutable claim.

Or maybe that was just you.

Honestly, it really didn’t matter because the pace at which Soap is pistoning into you, making your cunt weep, made every little thought that managed to grow in your mind die almost instantaneously.

"Mm...Johnny, I'm close" you grab at the hand he has anchored to your waist. The hair on his thighs rubs against you, the friction and the feel of his balls slapping against your clit speeding you towards an orgasm for the fucking record books. And contrary to Soap's posturing, you didn't fake orgasms, who the fuck had time for that? However, the ones Leo occasionally gave you were nothing like what you felt coming. You struggled not to bite your tongue clean off as ecstasy shot through you, your breath stalling in your lungs. You flee forward when Soap presses his thumb into your ass as far as it could go, pulling his unoccupied hand out of yours so he could rub tight circles over the hood of your clit. It's too much, gratification and sensation and reckless fucking pleasure.

Look at you, running from dick. Who'da thunk it?

"Oh that's not happening." Johnny rasps, breaking his own rhythm once, then twice, abandoning your clit to pull you back onto him. "Take it. Let him see how you take it." Another, smaller, climax tears through your last bit of restraint, all caught on digital film, and you drop your head and scream, muffled by pillows while Soap gives in and comes inside you, throwing his head back, groaning at your ceiling, or God, maybe.

Either's as likely.

When he pulls out, there's a fleeting moment of silence interrupted only by the sound of synchronized heavy breathing. 

Soap bends forward again, this time grabbing your shoulders and pulling you up and against his chest, knocking your legs apart with his hand so the camera can focus on his cum leaking out of you, dripping thick and slow for the benefit of your future audience. He turns your face by your chin, pressing his mouth to yours, further flooding your senses. When his tongue traces over yours, you can literally feel you and Johnny pass the point of no return. 

“Turn it off.” Soap nods to the phone again, and you have to shake your head twice and kiss him three times before you feel cognizant enough to understand what he’s asking. You can’t stop yourself from smiling facetiously into the tiny lens before you end the recording. 

“Give it here.” 

You pass him the phone, staring at the lock screen, a half decade old photo of you and Soap in a matching halloween costume, Johnny dressed like an angel and you his complicit devil, your arms wrapped around each other. 

Leo had hated it.

“Aaaaand send.” Soap sing-songs, tapping at the screen of your phone a few times before he chucks the device to the floor, ignoring your indignant yelp of protest. “How long do you think we have before he opens it?” 

“Long enough for you to eat me out?” You flop back on your bed, propped up on your bent elbows. 

“Then we’d best get started.”

Soap barely gets the chance to touch his tongue to your clit when your phone starts to buzz furiously.

god i hope this anon sees this, i started working on it the day they requested it but totally forgot it was FOR someone and got stuck in my perfectionist k-hole.

support city girls with spit kinks, reblog what you like.

find the rest of the masterlist here.

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (10)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: as dictated by the results of poll #6, this chapter will include stunt training, clubbing, and an accident. Plus, you've got tub anon to thank for... well... the tub scene :) Oh, and this is kind of 18+. Just a tad.

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

Matt and the reader eagerly explore the uncharted waters of their budding relationship. Ewan is booked and busy with the preparation for his new franchise. Will Ewan and his darling even find time for each other, or should they just take this opportunity to let go?

The internet, ever so informative, lets you know that Ewan and Jenna’s arrangement is in its initial stages before he even calls to tell you. 

Their first interview with Josh Horowitz is immediately followed by another feature on the movie set, with the two talking about the pre-production, what they liked about the script, and their chemistry, which according to them, came naturally and did not require much work at all. It was practically the thing they had to work on the least. How lucky. 

A lighthearted reprieve came in the form of a meme that started circulating not long after their interview with Josh. In it, Ewan is caught looking like he's either malfunctioning or deep in a philosophical crisis. The internet ran with it, with captions like, ‘When you realise you left the oven on at home’, to comparing him to an NPC glitching out.

When you asked him about it, he quickly stammered that he simply spaced out. Sure. It was hilarious, nonetheless.

Your publicist Mallory had commented that soon Ewan and Jenna would be obliged to go on pap walks, something that would appear casual and separate from the confines of the project that they’re working on. Something that signals that their relationship is making it into the real world.

“That whole casual ‘just friends hanging out’ vibe they’re gonna push? It’s all part of the gig,” Mallory shared. “Next thing you know, they’ll be taking long walks on the beach or grabbing coffee in some trendy LA spot.”

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t sting. Even just a little. Sure, you know what the business is like. You’ve been on the same end of that deal just recently, with your own film’s PR efforts. But this arrangement that Ewan has doesn’t seem like the usual short-term fling to drum up buzz. It feels… heavy, like something that might actually stick.

“I’d be lying if I say I don’t find it all annoying, darling, but I try to look at it now as part of the job, you know?” he had said, when he phoned you one evening – his afternoon – to let you know that his stay in LA would be much longer than expected. 

You responded with, “Oh, yeah, I completely understand.” What else can you do? You aren’t together – you don’t have a claim to him, and vice versa. You thought that would make things better – easier – but you’re still waiting for that sense of comfort to kick in.

This is for the best, you would remind yourself every time a new headline surfaces. 

It’s only been a month since you last properly saw Ewan, since that night on the rooftop. In the early days, he messaged every day, called whenever he had a spare moment. But slowly, the calls have become shorter, more sporadic – chalked up to his increasingly busy schedule. Your tones have become more dispassionate – he blames it on his exhaustion, profusely swearing that he misses you so fucking much, but something feels different. 

Your job keeps you busy, with your commitments related to the new season of House of the Dragon, event appearances, and gearing up for the release of your film with Jacob. You are even invited to the upcoming Vanity Fair Young Hollywood Ball, an exclusive party to be held in New York.

And Matt is a more than welcome distraction. 

Matt, who has begun spending more time in your apartment after Ewan’s temporary move to LA. Matt, who brings you flowers that are apparently ‘beautiful, but pales in comparison to you’. Matt, who is unfailingly a gentleman, respecting your boundaries and not making a move since that time on your couch after your first date, when you told him to wait. 

He sits with you by your kitchen counter, in a disarmingly tight white shirt that leaves little to the imagination, one sturdy hand nursing a cup of coffee and the other on the small of your back to support you as you sit on the high stool, and you suddenly don’t want him to wait anymore. 

“Have you decided on what you’ll be wearing to the screening tonight, love?” he asks. 

“Why? Does it have to be pre-approved?” you playfully quip, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Ah,” he nods, smiling, playing along, “of course, of course. You think I’m an easy man to date? You’ve got to keep up with my standards, as beautiful as you already are.”

You laugh, playfully mussing his hair, and he catches your wrist before it drops back on the counter. He says, “I ask because I wanted to match you, so to speak. We’d be like two peas in a pod.”

“Oh,” you snort softly, “or you know, like Tweedledee and Tweedledum?”

“Funny girl,” he muses, before leaning forward and capturing your lips in a soft kiss, caffeinated and warm and Matty. You notice that his hand on your back is pressed firmer – he didn’t want you to slip when you leaned in. 

Charming bastard. He isn’t making things any easier… or maybe he is. 

Maybe he’s it. 

But the moment’s broken by a loud, offended-sounding meow. You look down to see Sansa, staring at Matt like he’s personally responsible for all the world’s problems.

“Hey, babygirl,” Matt croons, extending a hand toward her. Sansa, the biggest diva of a kitten, just gives him a slow blink before trotting off, clearly unimpressed.

“Calling her babygirl isn’t going to make her warm up to you,” you tease.

“She already doesn’t seem to like me,” he replies, scoffing. “Which is a shock, pretty much, how can she not?”

“So humble, Matthew.” You smile at his effortless charm, his easy personality. That’s all you seem to be doing nowadays. Matt is like your personal ray of sunshine. 

“I’ll win her over,” he declares confidently, sitting upright. “Anything for my lady.”

You roll your eyes. “How very Daemon of you.”

“Actually,” he laughs, “Daemon would probably feed her to Caraxes for being difficult.”

“Matthew!”

“I’m kidding!”

Sansa meows even louder, bounding away towards your bedroom. 

“Leave my Sansa alone,” you say, pointing at him accusingly.

He gives you a sly grin. “I will… if you come here and give me another kiss.”

Before you can respond, he slides your stool closer to his with a smooth movement, catching you off guard. You find yourself practically in his lap, his thighs pressing against yours as he waits, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“Okay,” you sigh deeply, narrowing your eyes, unable to mask the smile that graces your lips. “One kiss, but only for Sansa.”

“Oh, shush and kiss me already, love.”

The film screening had been a private event, by invitation only from those who worked on the film. Edward Bluemel, Matt’s good friend, is a fellow actor marking his directorial debut with this film. For a first go, it was impressive, gripping from start to finish. Almost as much as Matt’s hand resting just above your knee, his thumb absentmindedly tracing soft circles into your skin.

Your cheeks had flushed when a particularly steamy scene came on the screen, and it might have been the nervous gremlins in your mind, but you swore Matt’s hand inched higher up your leg.

Now, on your couch, his hand is even higher. He hovers over you, his breath heavy and uneven as his fingers tease at the warmth between your thighs, so close to where you’re already aching for him. 

Maybe it was all the dirty martinis you drank at the open bar after the screening, or maybe this was a long time coming. Either way, you want him, and from the way his lips move urgently against yours, he wants you too.

It dawns on you that the tension is no longer something you can talk yourself out of.

He pulls away, and you protest with a mewling whine, your body arching into him. He nearly growls in frustration, the unspeakable sound you just made having a direct line to his hardened cock. With a gentle tug at the nape of his neck, you pull him back down to your lips, but he resists. 

“We have to slow down,” he chuckles mirthlessly. “Because we’re about to cross a line that I won’t be able to hold back from, love.”

“Matt – ”

“I understand – ” He licks his lips, letting out a slow and controlled breath. “ – that you want to wait – ”

Your confession comes out slow and measured, letting him know that this is what you really want. “Maybe I don’t want… to wait anymore.”

“Say that again,” he says slowly, his eyes darkening in lust. 

“Maybe I… I want you to fuck me.”

“Maybe?” he whispers, his voice rough, practically pleading.

“Oh, just fuck me.”

That’s all it takes for him to snap.

He undresses you in record time, ripping off every item of clothing from your body with an eagerness that betrays just how hungry he is for you.

Neither of you even bother to travel to your bedroom. At some point, your entwined naked bodies slip off the couch and onto your plush carpet. 

And you have a heated… What was it called again? 

Oh right – a damn good roll in the hay. 

The water is still warm in your deep clawfoot tub, steam rising gently from the surface. You lean back, head resting against the porcelain, that blissful post-sex daze settling over you. 

Matt slides into the water opposite you, his movements slow, deliberate. His eyes haven’t left you since he stepped in, and you can feel the weight of his gaze lingering on your skin. It isn’t just the remnants of your earlier intimacy – though that heat still hummed in the air between you – it’s something more. Something you can’t name and maybe you’re afraid to, but it tugs at you all the same.

A small smile plays on his lips, the kind that made your chest tighten – half teasing, half dangerous.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asks, voice low and smooth.

You exhale a soft laugh, running your fingers lazily through the water, trailing small ripples across the surface. “I’m not exactly complaining, am I?”

“Good. Wouldn’t want you to have second thoughts.” His tone is light, but the undercurrent of meaning isn’t lost on you.

You close your eyes, letting the warm water soothe your tired muscles, but even with the comfort of the bath, you can’t quite escape the one person lingering in the back of your mind. 

Matt isn’t Ewan, but he’s here, his presence steady, his charm disarming. He makes you laugh, makes you feel wanted in ways that are simple and uncomplicated, and maybe that’s what you need right now. Maybe it was okay to let yourself enjoy this, to live in this moment without overthinking what it meant.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Matt asks, leaning forward.

You open your eyes, catching the glint of amusement in his. “Just... thinking.”

“Dangerous territory,” he teases, reaching for your hand.

“Hmm, maybe,” you murmur, meeting his gaze. “You’re too charming for your own good, you know that?”

He chuckles deeply. “I’ve been told. But I like to think it’s part of my appeal.”

You roll your eyes, though you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Cocky bastard.”

He grins, leaning in even closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “Takes one to know one.” His hand travels to your leg underneath the water, massaging gently.

“I’m serious, though,” he says softly, his voice taking on a more earnest tone. “I don’t want you overthinking this. We’re good, yeah?”

You nod, but there is a flicker of something else in your chest. Guilt, maybe? But Matt is right here, and he isn’t asking for anything more than what you could give, and for now, that is more than enough.

“We’re good,” you whisper, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips.

He smiles against your mouth, his hand moving to cup the back of your neck, pulling you in closer. “Good,” he whispers back, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down your spine. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

You laugh, the sound muffled as he kisses you again and positions you on top of him. You shuffle forward and discover a very obvious indication that he’s ready for round two of rolling in the hay. Or in the tub. Whatever works. 

He looks absolutely enraptured when you ride him, your motions causing tremors in the water. 

And in the sheer pleasure he gives you, surrounded by flickering candlelight and the smell of lavender, you allow yourself to let go.

The event has the industry buzzing - an exclusive event by Vanity Fair celebrating the rising stars of Hollywood. A masquerade party, the notion of which excited you to no end. You’d only read about such in books, in its medieval iterations, all poofy skirts and velvet waistcoats, the whole concept full of prestige and mystery. 

You spent days prepping with your team, the anticipation building until it felt like a living thing inside you. Your dress, a beautiful piece from Atelier Versace, fits like a glove, one side made of draped black sequins shimmering like liquid night against your skin. The theme is Midnight Elysium, and you look every bit the part - dangerous and glamourous and untouchable. 

Your makeup team did an impeccable job. Your eyeshadow resembles a swirling galaxy, a blend of silver and noir. Your lipstick is a perfect nude shade that matches your skin tone and your features.  

But then there was the mask. The final, necessary touch. Delicate black lace that settles over your eyes, framed with gold filigree and flecks of silver – sharp and ethereal at once. It was a piece of art, something you personally commissioned from a local designer in your hometown.

In a room where everyone claims to know everyone, a mask can be more than just a costume piece. It can be a weapon – giving you the freedom to be both seen and unseen. 

Stepping into the nightclub is like slipping in between worlds. Black velvet drapes line the walls, catching the glow of the minimal lighting – gold and silver chandeliers hanging like constellations. The bass from the music pulses underfoot, sending vibrations through your veins. Faces are obscured by extravagant masks, but you are able to recognise some of them if you look close enough. Milly is speaking to someone by the bar, and you remind yourself to pull her aside for a chat later. Timothee is introducing his date to a small flock of people. And Jacob is bounding right for you the moment you make eye contact. 

“There’s my leading lady,” he greets cheerfully, swooping down to kiss you on both cheeks. He’s wearing a metallic silver vest and trousers, along with a white mask that covers one side of his face like The Phantom.

“Wow,” you say, making a show of appraising him, looking at all 6 foot 5 inches of his figure up and down. “You look like a handsome disco ball.”

He laughs, the sound unmistakable even in the bustling nightclub. “And look at you! What are you, a cyberpunk witch? A sleek dominatrix?” 

“Careful now,” you warn him, “or I might just hex you into getting me a drink.”

“Coming right up,” he says, but his attention is pulled by someone calling his name. “Hold on a sec, I have to introduce you to some of my friends.” You let him lead you further into the room, and you’re swept into the rhythm of it all, moving through the crowd as if you belong – because you do. You’re slowly getting used to the weight of eyes on you, but tonight, it feels as if there’s a shadow you can’t quite shake. 

Your personal shadow in a room full of masked shadows. Your skin prickles, an awareness blooming under your ribs. In all the fuss leading up to this event, you hadn’t really bothered to check the full roster of attendees.

After several rounds of conversation, you excuse yourself for a moment and stand off to the side to take a breather. 

And then you see him.

Ewan stands across the room, a drink in hand, his black leather overcoat tailored to perfection. The mask he wears, a sharp cut of black and gold, adds a dangerous air to him. His effortlessly tousled hair sports a smattering of gold embellishments, like streaks of pale blonde hair. You take him in, every inch of him, that mischievous curve of his lips and the glint of his blue eyes underneath that mask. 

It hits you like a tidal wave, like a fucking hurricane, the longing you’ve tried to suppress for weeks. 

You shouldn’t want him this much, not when you both agreed to the break. To keep some distance. His fake romantic arrangement had made sure of that. And after everything, you knew that some separation was what you both needed. 

But seeing him now, looking at you like he’s starving… it’s enough to unravel every careful thread you’d stitched together since you last touched. You want to look away, pretend that this is just another night, that he’s just another fellow actor among the crowd. But the pull is too strong. It’s as if your legs move on their own volition, and you slowly move through the crowd, almost subconsciously drawn to him. 

He steps deeper into the shadows of the club as you approach, disappearing into one of the more secluded alcoves draped in heavy black velvet. No one will see you there. No one will know any better.

The world narrows down to just the two of you, and the music becomes a distant hum. It’s quieter, darker, and for all the trappings of the Hollywood elite, Ewan is far more intoxicating. 

“You’re here,” you whisper, half in question, half in disbelief.

But he’s already moving towards you, his eyes dark and hungry behind the mask. The air between you crackles with an undeniable need – weeks of distance, of longing, building up to this moment. He’s close enough that you feel the warmth of his body through your dress, and you so badly want to forget that this is a bad idea.

“I can’t stay away,” he says, his voice low and raw, like it’s costing him to hold back. “Not tonight.”

You swallow, your heart pounding in your chest, every rational thought slipping away as his fingers skim the bare skin of your waist through the slits in your dress. “We… we can’t,” you manage to say, but even to your own ears, it sounds weak. Oh, who are you trying to fool?

“How can I not? Fuck, how can you look like that and expect me to just walk away?”

You want to say something, something sensible, something to remind him of the stakes. But nothing comes to mind, not when his hand brushes up your arm, raising goosebumps in its wake. His other hand slips to your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space between you. He dips his head down, breathing against your shoulders and your neck, taking you in like a vice. 

“Ewan,” you finally croak. “We agreed not to – ”

“I don’t bloody care,” he cuts you off, his mouth inches from yours. “We agreed to give it some time, sure, but I never agreed to stop wanting you. Besides, I make good on what’s asked of me. I play the part. I deserve to be rewarded, don’t I? And you’re the only prize I desire.”

His words hit you hard, melting any resistance you’d been clinging to. 

“Oh? So… so I’m just a prize now?”

He only smiles. “The only one worth winning.”

Before you can think, before you can stop yourself, you pull him closer and crash your lips into his. 

The kiss is hard, fierce, his mouth feverishly attacking yours. He tastes bittersweet, all hard bourbon and cigarettes. You’re certain that the lipstick your makeup artist painstakingly applied would be wiped clean off. His hands grip you harder, fingers digging into your flesh, pulling you closer, deeper, like he can’t get enough.

You break apart, gasping for breath. His lips are slick, shining in the occasional flicker of neon blue and red lights, his mask casting shadows across his sharp features.

A bright flash from the party's official photographer erupts in the corner, thankfully not pointed in your direction. Still, it momentarily shakes both of you back to reality. 

“Come with me.” His hand slips into yours, fingers curling possessively as he pulls you away from the cacophony of the club. You barely have time to react before you’re being led down a narrow, dimly lit hallway. He pushes open a door, leading you into a smaller room bathed in that same cold, electric blue. Plush seating is arranged haphazardly in the corners, but the space is mostly empty. The low hum of the bass still thrums in the distance, but it’s reduced to a faint echo. The smell gives off cigarette smoke and spilled liquor.

“Smoking area,” he says with a half-smirk, glancing around the room as if seeing it for the first time himself. “I think.”

“You think?” You raise an eyebrow.

He shrugs, utterly unconcerned. “Who cares? It’s just us in here.”

You shoot him a look, glancing back at the door. “Someone could walk in.”

He chuckles, stepping closer, that familiar heat radiating off him like a furnace. “It’s a party, darling. They’re probably wasted out of their minds. And besides…” He taps the edge of his mask, his eyes glinting mischievously behind the black and gold. “The masks?”

You bite your lip, trying to maintain some semblance of control. “And if someone does walk in?” you ask, arching a brow. “What then?”

He steps closer, crowding into your space, the tension thick between you. “Then they get a show,” he says, his voice playful and teasing, but laced with something darker. 

“Are you fucking serious?” 

“You can still walk away, darling,” he offers, trying to bait you when he knows full well that he already has you hooked. “Or, you can just shut up and kiss me.”

So much for giving it time. Ewan’s lips find yours once more, just as desperate, and you barely notice when he directs you to the seating, your back colliding with its velvet exterior. His low groan sends a wave of heat pooling in your stomach, and you think to yourself, this was a terrible idea. 

Your hands roam, finding the planes of his chest. He smoothly takes off his leather overcoat, revealing his bare torso underneath. The sight of it makes your head spin, and you croak unsteadily, “Ewan… not here, baby, we can’t – ”

“I know, darling,” he croons, his hand cradling your face. “I just wanna kiss you. I just want you… to touch me…” His other hand takes yours and drags it down the firm lines of his stomach, a desperate plea in his eyes. “Please, just – ”

The moment is abruptly shattered by the sound of giggling from the hallway, getting louder. Suddenly, the door opens and in stumbles a pair of girls, one of them you recognise to be Jenna. 

“Oh!” The other girl exclaims, clearly delighted by the situation she’s just walked into. She pulls off her mask, revealing herself as Emma Myers. “We found him! We finally found your date.”

Your heart plummets, right down on the liquor stained carpet.

“Hi,” you manage to squeak, getting to your feet and smoothing down your dress which had ridden scandalously higher up your thighs. “I’m – ”

“Oh, I know who you are,” Jenna says, shaking your hand, not the least bit bothered by the state she found you and Ewan in. “I love your work. I’m Jenna.”

“Oh… thank you – ”

Emma steps in, grinning. “Hi! I’m Emma. I’m such a fan.”

“Oh my god, I should be saying that to you guys!” you blurt, feeling a rush of relief at their easy demeanour. “I love Wednesday.”

They both gasp, and soon the three of you are exchanging compliments like old friends, chatting about each other's work with enthusiasm. Ewan, still seated, watches the scene unfold with barely concealed frustration. He eventually stands, shrugging his leather coat back on, and glances at Jenna.

“One of our producers is here,” Jenna explains cheerfully. “She’d love to chat with both of us.”

Right. Ewan’s her date. The word echoes in your mind, but the jealousy you expected to feel is oddly muted now. 

Ewan speaks, addressing only you, “Darling, will you – ”

“I’ve got her,” Emma declares, looping her arm around yours. “I’ve got so much I want to ask you!” Before you know it, she leads you out of the room like you’ve been best friends for years.

Ewan’s eyes stay on you, full of frustration and yearning, even as he and Jenna follow you out the door.

But you barely see him for the rest of the night.

The party is a blur of celebrities and conversations, but your mind keeps drifting back to that stolen moment in the blue-lit room. Eventually, your social battery runs out, and you slip out of the club early, unnoticed by most. 

Back at your hotel, you peel off your dress and drop onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling as the events of the night replay in your head. The feeling of his hands on your skin, the heat of his body pressed against yours – it’s all too much.

Your phone buzzes on the nightstand, snapping you out of your thoughts. Ewan One-Eye flashes across the screen.

You hesitate, thumb hovering over the screen, but you pick up. His voice is low, almost cautious. “You left early.”

“I was tired,” you reply, voice soft. “The party was great but it was... a lot.” Mainly because of him.

A beat of silence follows, and you wonder if he's wrestling with what to say next. “Are you okay?” You can almost picture him running a hand through his hair, jaw clenched, eyes dark with worry. 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you say, unable to hide the tremble in your voice. 

Another long pause, with only his slow breathing on the other end. 

“I hate this,” he finally says, voice barely above a whisper, the raw emotion in his words hitting you like a punch to the gut. “I fucking hate that he gets to have you, and I don’t… and I can’t… ” He cuts himself off, and you hear the snap of his lighter followed by his sharp exhale.

You bite your lip, your throat tight with emotion. You’ve both been so careful, dancing around each other, pretending that you could stay apart.

“I’m flying back to London tomorrow night,” you blurt out, the words rushing out before you can stop them. It feels like a confession, like you’re admitting defeat.

“I need to see you before you go.”

“Ewan, we agreed – ”

“Fuck what we agreed!” His sudden outburst takes you by surprise, and you hear the raw need in his voice. “I don’t care about the arrangement, I don’t care about the distance. I just... I need you.”

You want to tell him that you need him too. You want to throw caution to the wind and agree to being together in secret despite the false romance he has to portray to the world. But you can’t. 

“I...” Your voice falters. “We’ll see each other soon.” It doesn’t feel like enough. With a soft sigh, you add on a lighter note, “Alyna still has to kick Aemond’s ass, you know.”

A beat passes, and then you hear his tired laugh on the other end. “Right,” he chuckles softly, the sound both comforting and heartbreaking. “Wouldn’t want to keep the fans waiting for that.”

“Yeah, well,” you say, trying for casual, trying not to let your voice crack, “someone’s got to put Aemond in his place.”

“Hmm, well if that place happens to be right in Alyna’s arms, I doubt you’ll hear any complaints about the script from me this time.”

You can’t help but smile at his teasing, but it only deepens the ache in your heart.

“Ewan…” you begin, but the words hang in the air, unspoken. 

“I know, darling,” he replies, his tone resigned yet gentle. “I miss you too.”

The training room is alive with the sounds of clashing swords and laughter, but you can’t help but feel a different kind of electricity buzzing in the air. Maybe it’s just the way Matt looks at you, as you rehearse a scene where Daemon helps Alyna brush up on her sword fighting. 

You lunge forward, initiating the first move with confidence, and he counters effortlessly, the blades clashing in a symphony of steel. The practice moves are intense, each swing bringing you closer. His eyes darken with focus as he follows your movements, and for a moment, it becomes easy to forget the rest of the stunt crew in the room. 

“Nice footwork,” Matt compliments, stepping in closer. His body brushes against yours, sending a rush of heat through you. Ever since your night together, he has only been more brazen with his affections. “But you’re leaving yourself open here.” He demonstrates, his sword brushing against your side as he adjusts your stance.

“There,” he says, his voice dropping lower, “feel that?” You swallow nervously, grateful that the stunt coordinator had moved on to Harry in the far side of the room.

“I think I might be too open,” you manage to say, trying to keep your tone light.

“Maybe,” Matt murmurs, stepping back slightly but keeping his gaze locked on yours. “But I can’t help but want to close the distance.”

As you move through the choreography, you both fall into a rhythm, and almost inevitably, the fight turns into something more playful. You circle each other, exchanging faux blows and laughter, the distracting banter causing the stunt director to approach and get you both back on track. 

Next up, you have to train for Alyna’s pivotal scene where she attempts to mount Caraxes as per Daemon’s command. 

As you practice the mounting technique on the mechanical dragon, you’re hyper-aware of every movement. The crew watches closely, ready to offer guidance. You grip the handles tightly, adrenaline coursing through your veins, and for a brief moment, you lose yourself in the character, feeling the thrill of the scene.

But then it happens. The Buck jolts unexpectedly, throwing you off balance. Time seems to slow as you feel yourself slipping. You try to brace for impact, but it’s too late. You land hard, the pain shooting through your ankle as it twists at an unnatural angle.

There is a stinging sensation too, by the side of your head, and all you think is – oh fuck. The world around you fades to a blur, just as chaos erupts.

When you finally regain consciousness, the sterile scent of antiseptic fills your nostrils. Your surroundings come into focus slowly, and your heart races when you realise you’re in a hospital room. The steady beep of a monitor is the only sound, punctuated by the faint rustle of fabric.

You feel his hand on yours before your eyes even land on his figure, slumped on a chair beside your bed. His head rests on his shoulder, his grip still lightly holding your hand. His brow is furrowed in worry, even in sleep. 

You feel lightheaded, and for a moment you worry that your concussion might be worse than it is, but no. It's just him. 

Then, the sound of your movement catches his attention. He stirs, his eyes fluttering open, and when he meets your gaze, relief instantly washes over his features. 

“Love… you’re awake.”

Taglist: @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @vyctorya @wildrangers @onlyrealjoy @hotdismylife @thepurplecrown @just-fics-station @clarkysblog @urmomsgirlfriend1 @misfitbimbosblog (continued in comments ... )

Some notes in the margins...

Well, well, well. Yous were convinced that Matty would get the clubbing scene, helped by the red herring of his dancing video. Alas!

Is that Matty at the end there? Or a certain Mitchelly man? Hmm... one wonders. 💖

Complaints? Refund requests? Please direct your thoughts in the comments section below. I can 100% guarantee a satisfying solution. Or 70%.

Or, you know, bugger it. We're all in this together, better or worse ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

[lightfeltmemories]

toge inumaki; general boyfriend headcanons

note: my first work related to jjk, and i can't lie, i like the funny cursed speech user he's a cutie, so, here are some sfw mainly fluff headcanons if he was your boyfriend, if he's ooc i apologize, don't chew my asshole a new one i'm new here. (some of my headcanons are also inspired from some i saw on tik tok), requests are open for any jjk character (yes, even mahito) if you want to see more content like this.

tags & warnings: mentions of period products.

to start, since he can't exactly speak, it's going to be difficult to speak with you, so, if you manage to snag his phone number things will be a whole lot easier for the both of you, and thus, gives him the confidence to ask you out (please say yes.)

someone like panda or maki will probably let you know beforehand like a "yeah he likes you" or something.

but once you say yes, you'll have pretty much contemplated on whether or not you've found your soulmate.

he likes getting active with you, playing sports and such, even if you're not the best at it, he still sees it as a form of bonding and quality time, may or may not get a bit too competitive sometimes and you will cry if he wins too many times.

you are not exempt from his trolling, if anything, you're more susceptible, he won't do anything too over the top though, just some lighthearted fun the both of you can enjoy.

is definitely the type to send a meme to keep the convo going, and a reaction image when you say something that calls for the right opportunity to send it.

loves cuddling and watching movies or youtube videos with you, mainly the latter,

(over text) calls you babe or baby, or even a weird nicknamed variation of your name, doesn't mind if you call him bro since he'll do the same to you.

not the jealous type, unless someone says something to or about you that makes you uncomfortable (uses his cursed speech to tell them to shit their pants), isn't very controlling either, doesn't care about what you wear out.

but this doesn't mean he won't let people know you're his, such as walking beside you or hand in hand.

posts you on his instagram, he's insanely cheeky and cringe about it too, a picture of the two of you together at a carnival and the caption is "my world" or something of that nature, straight middle school cornball shit.

he also has loads of pictures of you... doing whatever, he may or may not have snuck a picture of you sleeping once or twice, he couldn't help it, you were cute.

if you were to ever ask him the question "would you still love me if i was a worm" his answer would be a sarcastic "no."

doesn't let you steal his food.

is the type to ask "what size is your pussy" when he's going to get tampons/pads for you, probably much to your annoyance, he also doesn't have much shame in doing it, either.

he's very protective of you, and wants to keep you safe.

mixed on pda, he's affectionate but not shameless about it, he'll give you a kiss on the cheek, a peck on the lips, or a hug.

when looking through his phone he doesn't have much going on, and definitely doesn't text anyone else romantically, he doesn't even like selfies of other girls, that man is loyal hands down, and expects the same for you.

he cooks for you sometimes, but can also teach you how to if you don't know how.

doesn't care much for gender roles.

doesn't mind being big spoon or little spoon, as long as he gets to sleep next to you.

loves seeing you in his clothes, with your scent tied to it and all.

likes going to parks and fun events with you.

he definitely wants to marry you one day, not too sure on kids, though.

he loves you more than anything and you know that. :)

[cutielando]

goals | o.p.

social media au

synopsis: in which everyone is jealous of your relationship

my masterlist

liked by landonorris, mclaren and 2,194,572 others

yourusername life lately 🩷 tagged: oscarpiastri

view all 391,724 comments

oscarpiastri ❤️

landonorris why are you doing this?

yourusername doing what?

landonorris making me feel single

yourusername you are single?🤔

landonorris ...not the point😠

logansargeant cute liked by oscarpiastri and yourusername

user1 they are too cute ❤️

nicolepiastri my children ❤️ i miss you guys

yourusername we miss you too, nicole ❤️

oscarpiastri we'll visit soon ❤️

mclaren 🧡 liked by oscarpiastri

lilymhe ❤️❤️❤️

yourusername ❤️

user2 our favorite grid couple ❤️

user3 we love y/n feeding us oscar content during the winter break 🥳🥳

yourusername i got your back 🫶🏻

user3 omg 😭😭

user4 will you come to more races next season? ❤️

yourusername i'm going to do my best to attend them all !! even though Oscar has offered to make me a full-time WAG, i do love my job haha

user4 hahahaha we love Oscar😩

landonorris you're welcome, btw

oscarpiastri for what?

landonorris i took all of these pictures when i was third-wheeling with your asses 😒

yourusername sounds like a you problem

landonorris you always bully me 😔

yourusername sucks to suck

user5 seeing Y/N and Lando bicker like siblings is my favorite thing 😭

user4 fr, they get along so well and i'm sure it's making Oscar's experience more enjoyable and easier because of that

user3 it's amazing to see how much she supports him though

user4 i know, she's been with him for a long time. it’s cute to see how proud she is of him 🥹

liked by yourusername, nicolepiastri and 1,824,715 others

oscarpiastri back to work, always with me💗 tagged: yourusername

view all 417,583 comments

yourusername always ❤️

oscarpiastri ❤️

landonorris wasn’t i third-wheeling enough during the break?

yourusername you’re the one tagging along

oscarpiastri she has a point 🤷🏻‍♂️

landonorris i like hanging out with you guys :(

yourusername then why are you complaining?

landonorris …i don’t know

nicolepiastri ❤️my beautiful son

oscarpiastri i miss you mum 🧡

nicolepiastri we’ll see you soon ❤️❤️

user1 i dream of having a relationship like their when i grow up 😩😩

user2 their love makes me believe in fairytales 💗💗

user3 how long have they been together?

user2 close to 3 years. they are childhood best friends as far as i know

user3 ooh, thank you. i was just wondering because they seem very happy together ❤️

logansargeant you never pay attention to me when she’s with you😭

oscarpiastri that’s not true

yourusername i’m just too cool 😎

logansargeant i don’t know about that

oscarpiastri watch it😠

yourusername my knight in shining armor 😩💗

alex_albon are you trying to be aesthetic?

yourusername we’re not trying, we already are

oscarpiastri i’m surprised you know what that is

alex_albon haha, funny

user4 forever thankful for these 2 🥲❤️❤️

user5 i want someone to love me like Oscar loves Y/N 😩😩😩🧡🧡🧡

user6 they are goals 🥹🥹🥲

yourusername has added to their story

seen by 98K

caption: my outfit for today’s race 🧡

liked by landonorris, mclaren and 1,927,481 others

yourusername proud doesn't even begin to describe how i feel 🧡 tagged: oscarpiastri

view all 471,824 comments

oscarpiastri you were my lucky charm, couldn't have done it without you 🧡

yourusername you're gonna make me cry baby 😭😭😭😭

yourusername i love you so much🩷🩷🩷

oscarpiastri i love you more❤️

landonorris i was on the podium as well :(

yourusername i congratulated you too 🥹

landonorris but why does he get special treatment?

yourusername because he's my boyfriend...?

oscarpiastri watch it, mate

landonorris i was just saying :/

nicolepiastri 🧡🧡🧡🧡 liked by yourusername and oscarpiastri

user1 he did so well for her 😭😭🧡

user2 i want a relationship like theirs 🫶🏻😍

user3 the way he looked at her when he was on the podium >>>

user2 i need someone to look at me like that 😩

user4 girl, same

georgerussell63 well done, mate! well deserved💪🏻

oscarpiastri thanks, george!

logansargeant making the Aussies proud, I see

yourusername he never disappoints

oscarpiastri not when i have you with me

logansargeant why do you always have to flirt in the comments?

yourusername we’re giving the people what they want to see

mclaren proud of you, Oscar! what a stellar weekend! 🧡

yourusername i love you, admin 🥹🧡

mclaren ilyt😉😉

oscarpiastri should i be concerned…?

landonorris they’re taking over. run for your life

yourusername 😒

yourusername you need to step up your game, babe

oscarpiastri are you seriously suggesting i’m losing you to the mclaren admin?

mclaren she’s not suggesting it, it’s already happening

oscarpiastri on it yourusername 🫡

lilymhe you were gorgeous, babe❤️❤️

yourusername i could say the same about you❤️

francisca.cgomes we stole the show

alex_albon ...

pierregasly ...

oscarpiastri ...

yourusername sorry boys

liked by yourusername, nicolepiastri and 3,018,472 others

oscarpiastri we celebrated in style last night tagged: yourusername

view all 724,019 comments

yourusername yes we did 🥵🥵

oscarpiastri 😘🫶🏻

landonorris you two are disgusting

yourusername no, u

logansargeant i hope you used protection

oscarpiastri mate, wtf

yourusername don’t worry, eagle. we did

oscarpiastri babe, did you have to say it?

yourusername you know i had no choice

mclaren you’re not making our job any easier, y/n - PR

yourusername ooops 🤭

user1 Oscar is wilding man 😭😭

user2 this is the dirtiest post we’re gonna get from him and i’m here for it 💀

oscaaaaahpastry not y/n being scolded by McLaren 💀💀💀😭

lando.norrriiiiizzxxx imagine the PR nightmare she causes behind closed doors we don’t get to see 😭

user3 she’s a menace and i’m here for it 😉😉

user4 we love seeing Oscar being dirty 😩😩

yourusername same

user5 😭😭

user6 she is so unhinged and i love it 😭😭

landonorris atta boy

mclaren Lando, please, don’t make it worse 😭

oscarpiastri 🫢🤭

yourusername we’re sorry, McLaren admin :(

mclaren no, you’re not

yourusername no, we’re not

oscarpiastri we’re really not

maxverstappen1 these photos aren’t doing the night any justice��

yourusername 🤭

oscarpiastri you weren’t any better, shut up

maxverstappen1 🤐

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

much appreciated!!

REQUEST HERE

[sminiac]

Heyy can we get soul bf if not its okay i really live your intak,theo and keeho ver.

⋆ Haku Shota + Reader

💌 — Of course I can my sweets! Thank you sm <3!!!

Bf!Soul who buys you the silliest gifts whether he’s travelling or not, the type to see ads of utterly ridiculous items that would have no practical value to it and still put them into his cart without hesitation and giggles to himself when handing the package to you when it comes in, wouldn’t say a word even if you repeatedly ask him what it is, just sits and waits patiently for you to open it.

Ex: Sometimes he even goes out of his way to buy you matching accessories, but sometimes it’s the most absurd looking thing you’ll ever see. Also yk how he has 2 custom rings of his dogs? He’d 100% get custom pieces for the two of you, the design pertaining to something that only you and him understand! Would also get a few pieces with your initials engraved in the back, another little secret only you’d know about.

Bf!Soul who doesn’t like messaging you when he’s away, he absolutely will when there’s no other option but he’d much rather hear your voice, and he makes sure to tell you too! “I just missed hearing you talk to me that’s why I called, it makes me feel better, you know?” He’d also send you little texts throughout the day to keep you updated on where he is, what he’s doing, but they’d never be in great detail, you’d look down randomly at your phone and there’s just: “Baby I ate a bug!!” and “Walked head first into a pole >ヮ< I’m okay I think”

Ex: He’d also frequently tell you “I miss you” but every time he’d explain why, and it would almost always be a different reason each time :,)

Bf!Soul who is such an affectionate person, hugs and kisses given to you for the smallest reasons, you open something for him? You’re suddenly being smothered in kisses, they’re so quick and gentle that before you know it he’s pulling away like he didn’t just leave you blinded and dizzy from his lips. Also the type to hug you unexpectedly, just slowly raises his arms leaving his chest open until you get the hint and pull yourself into him, the same with holding your hand, but instead he’d keep reaching, pulling, trying to dig his fingers to his designated spot between yours.

Bf!Soul who builds you the cutest, most aesthetic buildings you’ve ever seen in your shared Minecraft world, the amount of time and effort he’d put into making everything pretty for you is insane. Takes care of your cats, dogs, and other random plethora of animals when you’re offline, would also leave you random little signs with messages on them for you to find whenever you’re active again, sometimes they’re just silly nonsense, others you’ll find really cute ones of him just completely gushing over you.

Bf!Soul who I feel like is so “Guess what Y/n did?” To his members, a constant yapper about you, if you’ve done anything to your hair recently, that one makeup look you did, that outfit you wore, that thing you said, everything and anything he’s constantly connecting to you and then he just has to tell everyone!

Bf!Soul who lets you do anything you want to him, he’s just pure putty in your hands! You want to put his hair in cute pigtails again? He’s already finding a spot between your legs so you have easier access to his head. You want to see him in a certain outfit? He’s laying out all of his options for you to pick from, and he doesn’t complain even one bit throughout the process.

Ex: Small spontaneous photoshoots happen quite often with this, does so many poses for you, even refers to you as his ‘pretty photographer’ when crediting you in the caption of his posts for taking the pictures of him.

Bf!Soul who would request of you to send your favourite songs to him just so he can make a freestyle video for you :,)

Bf!Soul who I feel like puts an incredible amount of effort into conveying his love for you, he really appreciates someone who can even help him, whether that’s guiding him into the words he can’t seem to find or just simply being patient with him. Likes cuddling into you while you play with his hair as he rambles on and on about you, what you mean to him, how lucky he must be to have found someone so reactive to his energy that not a lot of people can match in the way he feels is genuine. When he has the time he really gets into the details about how he feels, the emotion behind it, I feel like he’d really like the deep, touching talks late at night where everything just pieces together right in front of his eyes thanks to your presence, your kind heart. He could talk to you for hours, things are just easy with you.

[engenlvr]

kintsugi

pairing: alexia putellas x anneliese hoffmann (oc)

summary: your relationship with a certain blonde captain is complicated especially since all you can do is think about her but every time you try to move forward with her something always pulls you back.

a/n: orange coloured text mean that is german, blue coloured text means that its dutch and red coloured text means spanish. i hate writing games so it will probably be written horribly. the end isn't written the best as i didn't really know how to finish it and sometimes it’s hard to write exactly how you want it to turn out also if there’s any spelling mistakes i’m sorry but enjoy

w/c: 7.3k

playing at barcelona had been a dream of yours since you were a kid despite growing up germany to a german mum and a dutch dad. you immediately fell in love with the club ever since he introduced you to the club at a young age and you always flew out to see them play when you can.

just before the world cup the club had contacted you telling you that they wanted your and before they finished the sentence you blurted out a yes. saying yes was even easier when you knew caroline, ingrid and fridolina from wolfsburg.

despite germany’s early elimination which shocked not only the team but the world especially since we were in the euros final. but watching the rest of the tournament was a learning experience and time to learn your new teammates way of play.

though it was hard to leave wolfsburg as you’ve been there for as long as you could remember. slowly making your way to the first team but barcelona was the right challenge you needed. with your arrival at barcelona the wolfsburg girl’s immediately took you under their wing.

after being at barcelona for a couple of months of being there you fell in love with the atmosphere. being able to play with the worlds best alexia with some other players who were worthy of it. you learned so much.

apart from the girls from wolfsburg you got along with esmee the most as the both of you are dutch. the rest of the team you got along with easily but your friendship with alexia was weird. the two of you got along but it was awkward at least in your eyes.

today was the day barcelona were gonna play eintracht frankfurt in germany and you were over the moon. to be able to speak german again and be at home. but more importantly to see national teammates but especially laura.

the both of you made it through germany’s youth together to the first team she reminded you of your sister that’s why the two of you first bonded.

the four old wolfsburg girl’s walked out one the pitch talking about all the fun the lot of you had on germany. your eyes grazed the field in hopes of finding the familiar blonde you knew. once they did you ran to the girl jumping on her back which caused her to nearly fall.

“anne, missed me?” laura said with a joking tone and placing you down on the grass “of course we don’t even live in the same country anymore”

she looked at you talking in your appearance “how’s spain been treating you? you’ve even got a tan” you went on blabbering about the spanish life and how everything was perfect until alexia called you over telling you it was time to prep for the match “see you soon” pulling the girl in a long hug before making you way back.

“you know you shouldn’t be fraternising with the enemy afterwards sure but before no” alexia told you in her caption voice before walking away.

★★★★★

you told the team how they played just before the lot of you went on the pitch as you knew how the team plays. but despite that the team let a goal slip by none other than laura. over the years whenever the two of you played each other and one of you scored the other did shortly after.

thought that didn’t happen in the first half it happens it soon happened shortly after the second half started. when they were given a free kick which you decided to take and went it. which seemed to fill the team with more energy as as two more goal came from mariona in the fiftieth minute and salma in the sixty seventh.

once the final whistle was blown you went around congratulating the players and spending extra time with your national teammates.

“you just had to score the first goal didn’t you” teasing the girl seeing as your team won in the end “and you just can’t keep copying me. i score and then you score some may say you’re obsessed with me” laughing at her comment and pushing her shoulder away.

“well you know what they say look up to your elders—” laura was about to retaliate when a blonde girl came and placed a hand on your lower back causing you to jump slightly at the placement.

alexia was out for a little bit as her knee was causing her irritation but she could still travel with the team if she wanted to “great goal by the way. i’m happy it’s with us not against us” her eyes looked directly at you forgetting that laura was there completely before walking off to mapi before you could respond. your eyes followed her before looking back at your friend.

your best friend looked at you knowingly "what?” questioning her gaze on you, but she stayed quite “laura what? i don’t like when you look at me like that”

“you like her” her theory caused your eyes to widen while trying to come up with something. Which caused her to think her to think her theory was right “no i don’t i just think that she’s pretty and talented”

“sure”

“well esmee’s calling me so i got to go” pointing at the girl on the other side of the pitch who wasn’t even looking in your direction “byeee” running to the dutch girl as fast as you could.

“you can’t run away from this” the german girl shouted across the pitch.

★★★★★

it was now christmas break and the girls were hanging out before they all went away doing their own thing for christmas. they all had family to go home to but you couldn’t it would be too much.

when you were little you used to love christmas spending time with your parents and sister. the snow the music and the markets in town. it was also conveniently when your birthday was the day before christmas.

but then the whole thing with your sister happened making you hate your birthday and christmas.

hearing all the plans the girl has made you sad. ingrid and mapi going to norway to experience a scandinavian christmas with snow and then coming back to spend time with mapi’s family.

esmee going back to the netherlands to be with her family.

fridolina going home to sweden to spend time with her boyfriend.

the whole team talked about the plans they had this christmas. you sat there quietly listening but barely taking in the words that were being spoken. how they’d spend time with family their parents, brothers, sister.

sister

SISTER

SISTER

“anneliese, you got any special plans this christmas?” you started at the cup of tea in your hands before alexia nudged your shoulder tapping you out of your thoughts.

smiling “nope I’m staying here by myself just need some time away from home”

“alone for christmas” salma said with a sad smile at the thought of her teammate being alone on a day meant to be spent with family and your loved ones.

all the girls who were staying in spain offered to let you stay with them all except one alexia who sat there quietly while you kindly declined the girls despite their persistence.

the night ended soon after with you laying in your bed scrolling through your phone when a message appeared.

alexia

no one shouldn’t be alone on christmas

spend it with me and my family

anneliese

as kind as that is i don’t want to intrude

plus i’m fine being on my own

alexia

i won’t have it

join me and my family on christmas eve at least

anneliese

your not gonna take no for an answer are you

alexia

nope

anneliese

fine but only cause your so persistent

alexia

great can’t wait to see you

so there you were sat with alexia’s family as light chatter filled the room. you admired what they had, her close relationship with all her family.

her mum welcomed you as of you were her own, hugging you immediately when went through the door. completely forgetting about her daughter.

you’d forgotten what it was like to be with family on holidays you rarely were.

you and alexia weren’t even that close, not like you were with ingrid, frido and caro. so for the the catalan girl to ask you to spend christmas eve with her family it caught you off guard.

why?

the two of you never spent time outside of of football unless it was team bonding night other than that the two of you were basically strangers.

after being dragged away by alba who talked about anything and everything from her job to saying that the two of you should meet up for dinner one day. as she said and i quote ‘no wonder alexia been hiding you from me she’d know that we’d immediately get along. we have to grab dinner some time’

“i’m going to borrow her for a second” alexia said to her sister and pulled you along with her to the garden “thought you’d want a breather, i know how my sister can be”

she brought you out to the garden area which had a nice outdoor sofa facing the sunset that was currently happening. flowers covering every corner of it making the scene in front of your eyes look like one that should be in a museum.

looking at the girl “no honestly it’s fine she’s so kind we actual lot have planes to get dinner soon” a shocked look was on the girls face “i admire the relationship you have with your sister it’s so pure and cute” it got you thinking about your sister and your relationship with her the two of you should of been like them but instead you weren’t.

“you have any siblings?” the question wasn’t even a hurtful one but it did it cute deep and she didn’t know no one did except for your family “yeah a twin sister actually. we used to be like exactly like you and alba” smiling fondly at the memory.

“if you don’t mind me asking why aren’t you?”

“we just don’t talk anymore” a sad smile painted on your face which alexia took as a sign to drop the topic “well i’m glad you decided to join me today” placing a hand on your shoulder.

“well you were very persistent and i can’t exactly say no to my captain”

she laughed at your comment, you hadn’t been this close to alexia ever and you’ve never really appreciated her beauty. her hazel eyes, her blonde hair which was glowing due to the sun behind her, the dimple that appeared when she smiled.

“you’re so pretty” the words blurted out before you could stop them from coming out, covering your mouth in shock and staring directly at the girl who’s smile seemed to get bigger.

the blonde girl moved closer to you so that your legs were touching “thank you so are you” complimenting you back with a slight giggle.

you saw her eyes flicking between your eye’s and lips whilst yours did the same. the two of you slowly got closer to each other to the point where you could feel her breath on you. just one of you had to move forward and your lips would be touching and alexia was the one to do so.

“anne you didn’t tell me it was your birthday” alba walked through the door just as you’re lips were about to touch. you looked at alexia and saw as her faces fulfilled with shock? hurt? sadness? over the fact you didn’t tell her.

“yeah i guess how’d you know?”

alba waved your phone in the air “well your phone kept ringing so i was going to check who it was and then they sent a happy birthday message so i put it together”

walking to alba you grabbed your phone “well i’m going to call them back real quick” walking further in the garden.

alba walked and sat where you previously were “did you know it was her birthday and don’t think i didn’t see what was happening there you were about to kiss her” she gushed over the scene that was about to unfold in front of her, happy to see the girl happy and in love again “omg your really like her”

“alba” dragging out her name “i don’t know one second she was telling us she was spending christmas alone and then i invited her without even asking mum. and that not like me i like plans, a schedule. i don’t know what’s happening to me, we’re not even that close as you can tell cause i didn’t even know it was her birthday. i feel like shit cause i don’t have anything for her—”

“alexia it’s okay breathe. it’s okay to like her, i get it she’s nice easy to talk to. oh and you know mum called it the second the two of you walked through the doors” her eyes brightened when her sister said that, the thought of her mum liking you “really”

“yeah, so did i” the smile on her face only grew bigger

walking back to the sisters “just had to listen to my parents complain about how it took me too long to answer” attempting to joke as you could tell you not talking alexia about your birthday hurt her “i’ll leave you guy’s alone” alba touched your shoulder with a smile before walking back in “happy birthday”

“i’m sorry i didn’t tell you i wanted to but i don’t really celebrate it after everything with my sister. it just reminds me of her and i kind of just forgot so i’m so sorry—”

“— it’s fine if just wish i could of got you something and made this day more in your honour” holding your hand and rubbing her thumb on the top of your hand “honestly it’s the most fun i’ve had in forever”

it was true, as bad as it sounded you forget about your sister. for the first time in forever you forgot about the girl and had peace in your mind, you felt guilty but it felt nice.

“let’s go back in”

the german girl started to walk back inside “i actually do have a present for you” her hand grabbed yours spinning up around.

“how you just found out—” alexia’s lips met yours causing you to freeze in shock before reciprocating and wrapping your arms around her neck pulling her closer to you. pulling apart to catch a breath before pecking her lips two more times.

“you just kissed me?” your face full of shock by her public act in front of her family

“i did”

placing another kiss on your lips, never wanting to leave the moment “we should really go back inside” pulling away from the kiss.

the two of you went back inside with rosy cheeks. despite the kiss being in the open only alba and eli managed to see it. the only reason you knew that they saw was that alba was now jumping in excitement and eli was looking at you with an all knowing smile.

so hours later you found yourself having a few too many glasses of alcohol and you were giggling anything that was being said and clinging to the girl who complied putting your head underneath her’s. but with the alcohol you were in no shape to go back home.

"I can just sleep on the sofa" offering not wanting anyone to give up their bed for you.

eli shook her head at your idea "nonsense you and alexia can sleep in her room"

but before you could protest the two of you were pushed in the room. a scheme that was definitely orchestrated by the blonds sister, in hopes for the two of you to kiss again? confess 'feelings'? said feelings that you didn't even know what they meant. whether she had felt the same as you did? the whole situation confused you to much. being in a relationship was a bigger step for you than one might think.

cause of her

alexia's room was filled with her teenage brain pictures of her football idol's, some family photos mainly of her and her dad, old football gear, football trophies which helped make sense to all the awards she was getting now. though you had twenty nine year old alexia in front of you got to see all the younger versions of her.

the two of you laid in her old bed, you wearing one of her old football jersey paired with shorts.

your green eyes looked into her hazel ones as the two of you faced each other "I wish I could of made today more about you and overall more fun. instead you got a day with my family" pushing a piece of your hair behind you ear the main reason being so she could touch you.

be closer to you

"seeing your family be so happy honestly made this the best birthday I've had in years" a smile growing on the girl's face at the thought of you liking her family.

the hand stayed there stroking your face lightly the act so small but it had you feeling things. which got the german girl thinking as to if the girl in front of her had the same feeling. whether her actions were due to the alcohol the catalan girl had or so she could feel some sort of control in her life, she lost control on her leg causing her to be out with injury.

"goodnight, alex"

"goodnight, liese. happy birthday"

christmas eve ( your birthday ) was the first and last time the two of you kissed for a while.

★★★★★

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anneliesehoffmann 🎄👙🍽️🍾💋🚗

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laurafreigang who did u ditch me for 😭

> anneliesehoffmann i didn’t ditch u for anyone

> laurafreigang well i know ur not alone

alexiaputellas 💞

liked by anneliesehoffmann

barcalvr i’m so happy to see the girls love u

liked by anneliesehoffmann

esmeebrugts pretty girl

liked by anneliesehoffmann

lynnwilms_ miss uuu

> anneliesehoffmann miss u moreee tell the girls i say hi and that i miss them

marialeonn16 I KNOW WHOS HOUSE THIS IS

> annehofflvr mapi don’t be afraid tell us who’s house this is

user2627 ugh ur soooo

ingrid_engen so happy to be playing with u again

> fridolinarolfo i second that

> graham95 i agree

> anneliesehoffmann well i happy to be playing with my girls again

★★★★★

the thought of being with the alexia scared you. ever since the two of you kissed on your birthday it was all you could think about. you wanted to be able to kiss her whenever you felt like.

but wherever you thought about telling the girl that you wanted to be in a relationship with her all thoughts linked back to her.

the distance between that you put between the two of you was something that alexia felt. the way that every time that two of you would bump into each other outside of work you’d walk the other way or you’d walk past her muttering an excuse as to why you couldn’t sit and chat whenever she tried.

at work the two girls would only talk if they absolutely had to. their conversations only about football never about that night months ago.

what hurt alexia more wasn’t that the fact that you weren’t talking to her, it was the fact that you still saw her sister and not like once since the last you guys met or whenever your calendars aligned. but it was like once a week, at this point her sister was seeing her situationship? the girl she liked? her teammate? yes her teammate, that was the best word to describe their relationship given that they don’t even talk in unless needed.

alexia wanted to talk to you, the way the two of you talked in her mum’s garden. the scene replayed in her head everyday since then replaying the way you looked at her, the way you looked with the sunset making you look like something straight out a painting, the kiss that quite literally captivated her. and it was silly because it was one kiss well maybe like five including the small ones.

the most words you spoke to her was when she returned back on the pitch after her surgery with you simply congratulating her on it and the goal that she scored. plus the words you spoke to her after a little celebratory night out the team had for her return but you couldn’t remember anything ( probably due to the alcohol ) but alexia did she remembered everything.

alba could confirm this, as without a doubt everyday her sister would complain about the situation. that night it seemed as if the of you would take a step further or atleast see what would come with your relationship.

she thought it would lead to a couple dates, heartfelt talks and a few more kisses.

instead she got no dates, the two of you only talking about football when forced forced, you avoiding her and no kisses.

upon the alba’s complaints about how often she would hear her complaints, the girl confided in mapi instead and mapi being mapi she couldn’t keep her mouth shut and told ingrid ( just her thankfully ) about everything.

today was already a big day for you before knowing that it was the champions league final. the last time you were in one despite scoring the two goal which caused wolfsburg to be in the lead, but during the second half barcelona managed to bounce back and score three more. in the end they won your feelings towards the loss then were weird you weren’t as sad as you should of been, maybe it was because you deserved it as she was meant to be her not you.

you stole her dream, the life she deserved to have.

and you losing that final was the price to had to pay.

you sat in your cubby as the dark haired norwegian girl sat next to you “anna, mapi told me something yesterday and i don’t think that i was meant to know but you know how mapi is she can’t keep a secret” turning to the girl in confusion “about you and alexia, you know you’re allowed to feel love? in my years of knowing you not once have you talked about a girl even if someone asked you out you’d decline”

no one knew your reasoning as to why you pushed alexia away “it’s just so much more to it” keeping your response short so you didn’t reveal too much “it makes sense now the looks alexia gave you. you spending christmas with her. all i’m saying is don’t be afraid to let go and let yourself feel their love for you”

“ingrid”

“okay, if we win you have to at least give it a go you might not see it but it’s hurting alexia more than you know. but if we lose i’ll let it go and i’ll make sure mapi doesn’t push anything. whatever or whoever is causing you to push alexia away isn’t worth you living your life not being in love and i really would be perfect alexia is mapi’s best friend and ur mine so we could go on double dates”

it was such a simple sentence bit it caused all the emotions that you were feeling to resurface. tears started to build up and fall “oh anne, it will work all out in the end” wiping your tears away and kissing your cheek, you looked over at the blonde who was in the far right corner only to see the girl already looking at you sending you a little smile which you returned.

“okay, now let win this” nodding at the norwegian.

hours later you and the rest of the starting eleven started to walk on the pitch alongside olympique lyonnais. your heart started to beat faster at everything what the day meant to you before it was named as the final for the champions league. you looked at the catalan girl who was at on the bench.

breath anneliese

and the second the whistle was blown you had to put all you emotions aside. the first half wasn't an easy one with both teams proving as to why they were both in the final. lyon had many attempts some of them from corners but thankfully cata was able to save them. we just happened to have the same luck with all of our attempts to be save or have them merely miss the goal.

then half time rolled by and after a motivational team talk given by alexia. the deadlock was broken by you with an assist from keira. the two of you were passing the ball back and forth between each other when you started to run forward to the left side of the net and kicked it into the top right corner.

cheers erupted through the stadium, your teammates running towards you and the subs jumping in joy. they were all looking at you but your eyes were on team captain.

this was the most you’ve looked at her since then. since that night. it was just a glance at each other but it meant so much more to the both of us

it wasn’t until the 90th minute that the alexia came on for keira, claps through the stadium at a club legend coming on.

she showed just why she’s is know as one of the worlds greats. as in the ninety sixth minute claudia kicked the ball towards alexia who finished it off.

you watched as the girl took of her shirts and spun it around ( much like what chloe kelly did in the euros final when she done the winning goal ). you watched as she bowed down to her people, she looked and you completely forgetting about the others around her you were what mattered most and you ran toward her jumping in her arms and holding her face

“you just had to go and show them why they call you la reina” she laughed at your words “i hate when people call me that”

“okay well, my star girl showing the world why she’s the best”

and less than a minute later the final whistle blew and the two of you ran to each other again hugging, the rest of them soon joining the two of you. you began to sob many thought it was due to winning but it wasn’t it was cause of her.

ingrid’s words changed the way you looked at the situation, that maybe she’d would want you to be happy to find love again.

for years you thought that every big game that you lost was due to her, your sister. maybe you winning this game was her telling you that you could forgive yourself. that it wasn’t your fault.

the stadium was now close to empty all the family members and friends on the pitch.

you were gonna tell her.

now or never.

“alex, erm i’m so sorry for the way i’ve treated you pushing you away. only thinking of myself—”

“liese—”

“no please don’t interrupt me or i won’t say it. for years i thought that it was my fault. genny my twin was the one that loved football not me, i only went cause she did. then she got sick and i wanted to quit but she made me continue but she kept getting worse nothing was working the chemo barley did anything then one day she— she just died. i felt like i stole her life. i’m living the one she always wanted to live and i never even wanted it. i thought that every game i lost was punishment, for stealing her life. but today winning this game i think was her way of telling me that it was okay and that i can forgive myself. that i can let myself be loved and feel love. ingrid said that if we win this game i should tell you how i feel and alex i— the first day that we spent together just us was the day i realised that i loved you. the way you are with your family, how much people look up to you, how your simple show. i love everything about you—”

your words stoped the second she placed her hands in your cheeks “liese, i’m so sorry that you’ve been through all that but don’t think for a second that it was your fault that she died okay or that you deserve to the dead one okay. the world works in cruel ways and losing innocent loved ones is part of it unfortunately. i’m glad that you’ve realised it’s not your fault”

for once you didn’t care about anything only the girl in front of you.

the pair of you stayed together till you both spotted you family and went your separate ways. they went on about how proud they are of you, how proud she would be of you. the three of you were talking till your mum spotted ingrid’s mum and went to the norwegian who she grew a friendship with when you played in germany.

you spotted alba who was talking to her sister and you ran to the girl hugging her “i’m so proud of you” the girl whispered happy to see a genuine smile on your face “i see you and my sister have sorted things out” you nodded “good cause i can’t listen to her complaining about you none more” the words cause alexia too hot the girl in the head “hey that was between us”

smiling at alexia your alex “hate to break it to you but i already knew. you told mapi and then mapi told ingrid who had a little talk with me today” she swore under her breath about her best friend

“plus mums gonna be so happy that you found love” the girl blushed looking at you and gently pulling you in her arms “yeah i guess i have”

★★★★★

pretend its you in all the pictures with alexia , in the 5th ur esmee, 7th and 8th ur frido but in the 8th pretend aitaina is a image of her sister

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anneliesehoffmann ive done it big sister

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alexiaputellas for her

> anneliesehoffmann no for them

barca4ever i may seem delusional but i fell like there’s somet between her and alexia

ingrid_engen i told everything would work out in the end plus this win is already better cause we won it together. the wolfsburg gang is back

laurafreigang you deserved this so much anne

annehofflvr i honestly haven’t seen her smile more

marialeonn16 you know ingrid refused to take a picture with me until she took one with u stop stealing my gf

> anneliesehoffmann omg sorry not sorry wolfsburg gang > youu

fridolinarolfo the girl who deserves it most

liked by anneliesehoffmann

lena_oberdorf6 goals in finals just seen to be your thing

> anneliesehoffmann lena it don’t count if we lose 😭

user3565 why are half the pictures you and alexia

esmeebrugts so cute

★★★★★

you and alexia your girlfriend. if that’s what the two of you were. you guys done stuff that couple did, like going on dates, staying at each others place ( meaning you being at her's all the time ) , visiting her family. the two of you were basically a couple but neither one of you have fully asked the other to be their girlfriend.

this summer before the olympics the two of you explored more of barcelona together alexia showing you her home in between games. but for the time off the two of you had before both of you were off to national duty.

you showed her your homes, the first time you've ever done so to somebody you loved. you showed her germany some of your favourite places, some of your sisters favourite places growing up. it was such a small thing but it was so intimate to you, and alex knew that. you opening up about you're sister was such a big act no one really knew about her the fan's didn't only close friend's and family.

you showed her the netherlands the place your family moved after your sister. you're parents had gone away on holiday so that allowed you and alex to stay there.

the two girls were currently out for dinner at a nice restaurant which you went to a lot as a kid. it was a big place with seats in a garden filled with many flowers and plants.

"im happy that you wanted to give this a try” her hand moving a piece of your hair away. she could get used to this you sat beside her, going on little dates, the two of you “i'm happy i did too, so tomorrow i’m thinking maybe we could go to that breakfast place the one me and my family used to—”

“—be me girlfriend?” your sentence halted in shock of the catalans words. they caught the both you you by surprise “i had this whole plan to do it tomorrow after going out to dinner and then a walk through the park but i can’t wait i’ve wanted you to be my girlfriend since we kissed and it’s all i can think about since you said you wanted to give this a try”

“— yeah i’ll be you’re girlfriend” placing a soft kiss on the girls lips. it was different since their last, it held so much more emotion. it was raw and truly showed how you felt for each other. the thought of being someone's girlfriend used to scare to it due until a month ago where that fear turned into excitement. you were waiting till you would be able to call alex your girlfriend.

★★★★★

pretend it’s u in all the photos with alexia and in the 8th pretend that nathalie björn is u in alexia’s spain kit

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alexiaputellas 💐💞🌺📖🍦📸🦋

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evrywoso OKAY HARD LAUNCH

annelisehoffmann i did not agree to that photo

> alexiaputellas don’t worry you look beautiful

ingrid_engen remember what i said before the final we better do that soon

> alexiaputellas you didn’t tell me anything

> ingrid_engen i was talking to anne not you

> alexiaputellas @annelisehoffmann liese ???

> anneliesehoffmann i’ll tell u in a second alex also why are you texting me when your right next to me

laurafreigang omg something happened and u haven’t told me but u told ingrid

> anneliesehoffmann 😝

wosolvr anne is alexia’s spain kit is so cute

albaps9 dinner date when

> alexiaputellas when i’m back just come over

> albaps9 ale i’m talking to anne not you plus i see u all the time

> anneliesehoffmann whenever i’ll cancel plans to see u

annehofflvr their nicknames for each other

> barca4ever i know it’s so cute and how alba’s friends with anneliese

marialeonn16 oh you so done it

user4567 so they’ve deffo met each other’s families

★★★★★

the olympics went neither of the girls way their first games went good germany winning 3-0 to australia and spain winning 2-1 to japan. germany was missing some key players like lena who tore her acl and mcl in a match that didn’t even matter as we had already qualified for the upcoming euros.

we were fine against canada which went to penalties which was 4-2 to us and funnily enough so pain went into penalties as well with a 4-2 win over colombia. then we played usa which seemed to be a problem for us even in the group stages which was a 1-0 win to them.

but for spain it went horrible. they just weren’t playing like they normally do, making silly mistakes which allowed brazil to take advantage of it. alexia wasn’t playing for the majority of the game till the 77th minute, and that was when the team started to play better but despite their sudden elevated energy ( which you said was due to alexia being on the pitch ) it wasn’t enough they still lost.

you were playing spain.

you were playing alexia.

obviously you had thought about having to play alexia but you didn’t think it would happen. the both of you had been dreading the game, it wasn’t just her you were playing a lot of the team played for barcelona.

the both of you starting.

but despite the two of you playing you swore to each other that you wouldn’t let what you feel stop from fully committing to the game.

when the two of you were on the pitch you didn’t know each other in fact the couple decided that they were to hate each other on the pitch.

and they done exactly that.

the second that whistle was blown you both had an aim and that was to get that bronze medal. germany’s motivation was to do this for obi and spains was to prove exactly why they’re the worlds best.

the first half was tough you didn’t really have any chances but spain, they were eager to get a medal and they had chances most hitting the crossbar out just being slightly off target. your defence wasn’t the best in the first half cutting it to close making these chances for spain and you were lucky that none went in the back of the net.

the second half was where the action started ( specifically the sixty fourth minute) to happen it was germanys chance. you were just past the half way mark where you saw gulia in the perfect position so you kicked the ball over to her.

the only person in front of her was cata who pushed gulia to move her from the ball which resulted in the referee giving a penalty immediately.

and you were gonna take it.

maybe it was because you knew how cata played but it still was hard. you always hated playing against your teammates even in friendlies but especially it important games like this one.

you watched spains last penalty shoot out against colombia and they were good. you saw how she played her tells.

you walked up to your spot and you could feel her eyes on you, and off you looked back at her you wouldn’t be able look to fully it would throw you off your game. but like the both of you agreed to use the your love as motivation to beat the other

taking a deep breath. your heard the whistle blow an ran towards the ball putting it in the bottom right corner while me cata went to left. running to where obi was and pointing at her so she knew that all this was for her. you turned around to hug lea who all ready had her hands open for you.

but that goal didn’t mean that germany would win the game can turn around in seconds and spain were known for doing that in the euro qualifiers and in the olympics.

if anything that goal lit a spark in the team more fouls were committed you and alexia committing some on each other.

jenni was a problem she wanted to make this level and get her name on the score sheet, a cross from olga to the center of the box right where jenni was headed toward the girl and luckly ann was there and saved another attempt from her.

and they kept coming spain these opportunities from spain but ann was always there to clean up our mistakes proving just how good she was.

the fully ninety + the seven was done all we had to do was make sure that we didn’t make any mistakes until you did resulting in a penalty to spain you and your teammates were convinced that you barley touched her and that she fell down dramatically as she was in the penalty area and knew that they could get a pently out of it.

you could be the reason that germany lose and as if it was some silly joke alexia was taking it for spain.

your alex.

against berger.

your feeling were conflicted even though you promised her you wouldn’t be. of course you wanted the best for alexia but you wanted, no needed your team to win not just for yourself but for obi for horst for your sister.

the situation was cruel but it was the game.

you were stood next to aitana ready to kick the ball away if it gets blocked and came back to the girls in red. you watch as you’re girlfriend, no alexia kicked the ball in the same direction as you did but this time it being saved.

your ran towards ann to hug her as a thanks for cleaning up your mistakes. surely this was the last action of the game and it was as less than a minute later the whistle was blown.

germany won.

the whole team ran to ann as she was the while reason that we won with all her amazing saves. but while you were all huddled up you saw a alexia was being comforted her teammates and you couldn’t help but feel guilty. but that was the game no matter how great the player is it’s a group sport.

after some time of talking to obi she was like your’s and lea’s child you were her wolfsburg mum and lea was a bayern mum well that was what the fans had been saying. alexia was finally alone sat down waiting for you, you slowly made your way and sat next to her.

the both of you sat silent till alexia broke the silence “i’m happy for you, you deserve it more than anyone i know” she finally looked at you with her hazel eyes, those eyes that you grew to love looking at “i don’t want you to think that you can’t celebrate or be happy around me”

putting her face in your hands, you knew the look that she had on her face. she blamed herself for spain’s loss “alex, it not your fault and no one’s looking at you differently for missing that penalty. you guys had ninety minutes before hand to put a goal in that net okay. you don’t see anyone else blaming themselves as much as you are, they all had chances. so don’t think for a second that missing that penalty erases the ballon d’ors and all the other award that you got. it’s a group sport and as hard as it sound every team needs to lose from time to time it helps show that no matter where your team is ranked you got to make sure you continue to work for it. in the end this will all work out for the better”

you watched as a smile began to rise on the girl’s face “thank you. i really needed that but seriously you were the better team and you played brilliantly today my star girl” repeating the same words you said to her in the champions league final. the day the two of you gave this a go.

the both of you sat there in each other shirts chatting about what you were gonna do what you were back in barcelona, back in her flat which is basically theirs with how often the german girl was sleeping over at alex’s.

no matter the result of a game their love for each other was bigger than what ever happens between them on the pitch. in the end the both of them knew they found the one. whether it was in english, spanish, catalan, german or dutch they knew that in every language that they spoke that they loved each other.

[wannabehockeygf]

Feels Like - Quinn Hughes

“We almost got away, we cut it close,

The city’s getting loud, if I choke,

It’s only ‘cause I’m scared to be alone,

Been trying to work it out you should know,

I would do whatever you wanted.”

***

part 2 // quinn hughes x gracie abrams albums fic trilogy

part 1 part 3

***

Summary: Quinn’s been up to no good, and it’s about time you find out.

Word count: 6.8k

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x fem!reader

Warnings: cheating, alcohol

Notes:

- me saying I’m so busy and won’t have time then I crank this out in a day !!

- this was so heart wrenching to write …

- not proof read as always

***

Quinn Hughes had a good head on his shoulders. At least, that’s what everyone always told him. Coaches, family, even the media—they all saw Quinn as the level-headed one, the smart one, the kid who knew what he wanted and went after it.

Except when it came to you. When it came to you, Quinn's head was anything but good. It was a mess—confused, conflicted, weighed down by the guilt that had been gnawing at him since last night.

Quinn ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead. He sat on the edge of his hotel bed in Boston, staring at his phone like it was some kind of bomb he had to defuse. Your name was still at the top of his recent calls, your last text a blue bubble of worry and reassurance.

“Heading your way, Q. On a train. Didn’t book a flight because it was too much, but I’ll be there in the morning. I love you.”

He swiped out of the messages and into Instagram, his thumb hovering over the search bar. His heart pounded against his ribs, each thud a reminder of just how much he had screwed up. He was still in last night’s clothes, a blue Hawaiian shirt that Jack had bought him as a joke and black slacks that clung to him uncomfortably. He hadn’t slept; instead, he’d gone out, did so much more than emotionally cheat on you, and then spent the night pacing his room, trying to figure out how to make this right—how to fix something that might be beyond fixing.

His phone buzzed in his hand, a new message from you: “Quinn, are you awake? Call me when you see this.”

Quinn's stomach twisted. He could picture you right now, curled up on that train seat with your eyes heavy from lack of sleep, your hair mussed from running your hands through it too many times. You were coming all this way for him, despite everything. You were coming to see him even after he’d hung up on you. He felt a pang of guilt so sharp it made his chest ache. You deserved so much better.

He knew that. God, did he know it. But knowing it didn’t make things any easier. If anything, it made things worse, because he couldn’t stop. Couldn’t stop thinking about you, couldn’t stop needing you. And yet, he was too weak to stop what he was doing—the other thing he couldn’t seem to stop needing.

His fingers hesitated over the search bar for just a moment longer before he typed in the name, quick and almost subconscious, like he was on autopilot. The profile came up instantly: smiling photos of her on some beach, her hair wild in the wind, sunglasses perched on her nose. She looked carefree, happy. The last photo was from a week ago, captioned with a simple heart emoji.

Quinn’s heart clenched. God, she was beautiful. And she made him feel things—things he didn’t feel when he was with you, his girlfriend, things that scared him as much as they thrilled him. She was everything you weren't: spontaneous, wild, a bit reckless. She didn’t make him feel like he had to be perfect all the time.

Which was probably why he’d ended up here in the first place.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to quell the guilt that surged up his throat like bile. He thought back to last night—the way she’d looked at him across the bar, her eyes dark and knowing, the way she’d smiled like she knew every secret he was trying so hard to hide. The way her lips felt against his, the heat of her breath, the sound of her voice when she whispered in his ear.

And then he thought about you. About your laugh, your smile, the way you looked at him like he was the most important person in the world. How you never hesitated to drop everything for him, even when it meant putting your own life on hold. Like right now. Like this very moment, when you were probably sitting on some cold, uncomfortable train seat to get to him because you thought he needed you.

He was such an asshole.

Quinn tossed his phone onto the bed, burying his face in his hands. He felt like he was being torn in two—one part of him screaming at him to get his shit together, to be the guy everyone thought he was, the good guy, the guy who didn’t screw over the people he cared about. And then there was the other part—the part that was scared, insecure, the part that wanted so desperately to feel something real that he didn’t care if it meant hurting the one person who had always been there for him.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, the word barely more than a sigh. What was he supposed to do? He didn’t know. He was in too deep, caught between two worlds that couldn’t coexist, caught between two versions of himself that he couldn’t reconcile.

He stood up, pacing the small hotel room, the carpet rough under his bare feet. His mind raced, thoughts bouncing around like ping-pong balls in his head. He couldn’t keep doing this. He had to make a choice. He had to choose.

But how do you choose between the girl who makes you feel safe and the one who makes you feel alive?

His phone buzzed again, and this time he couldn’t ignore it. He snatched it up, expecting another message from you, another plea for him to call, but instead, it was from the other girl. A simple text: “Had fun last night. When can I see you again?”

Quinn stared at the message, his heart hammering against his ribs. What was he doing? What the hell was he doing? He wanted to smash the phone against the wall, to shatter it into a million pieces, to shatter himself along with it. But instead, he just stood there, staring at the screen, torn between guilt and desire, between what he wanted and what he knew he should do.

“Quinn?” A voice called from outside his door, sharp and insistent. It was Petey, knocking lightly. “You in there, man? We gotta head out to practice soon.”

Quinn stood frozen in the middle of his hotel room, his phone buzzing persistently in his hand. The screen glowed with the picture of you he had made his lockscreen, and every time he looked at it his heart dropped. His stomach churned, a sickening mix of guilt and anxiety that had been gnawing at him for the good part of twelve hours. He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers tangling in the mess of curls that he hadn’t bothered to tame since last night.

Last night. God, what a disaster.

He could still taste the remnants of whiskey on his tongue, still feel the phantom touch of her lips against his. She had been all over him, pulling him in with that damn magnetic smile of hers. And Quinn, the idiot that he was, hadn’t done a damn thing to stop it. Now, standing here, he felt like he was drowning in the aftermath.

“Huggy?” Elias’ voice came through the door again, more insistent this time. “You good?”

Quinn glanced at the clock—barely enough time to get his shit together before practice. Not that it mattered. His head was so scrambled, he doubted he’d be of any use on the ice today.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to move. One foot in front of the other, like he was on autopilot. He tossed his phone on the bed and headed for the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face in a vain attempt to shock some sense into himself. The water dripped down his cheeks, and he stared at his reflection in the mirror, searching for some sign of the guy everyone thought he was. The guy who had it all together.

But all he saw was a mess. A guy who couldn’t make up his mind, who was screwing over the one person who had always been there for him. The guy who, deep down, was terrified that he was going to lose everything if he didn’t get his shit together.

He grabbed a towel and dried his face, then ran a hand through his hair again, trying to make himself look halfway presentable. But no amount of water or towels could wash away the guilt that clung to him like a second skin. He was stuck with it, like a tattoo he couldn’t scrub off no matter how hard he tried.

“Fuck,” he muttered, the word slipping out before he could stop it. He shook his head, running his hands through his hair once again, feeling the strands tug against his fingers. He needed to get it together. He needed to get out of this room before he went completely insane.

He grabbed his practice gear from the chair by the window, where he’d tossed it last night when he’d stumbled in. The memory made his stomach twist: the way he’d pressed the button to hang up on you, the way his thumb had hovered over it like it weighed a hundred pounds. And then the other girl’s laugh, soft and sweet in his ear, her fingers trailing down his arm as she whispered something he couldn’t quite remember anymore but knew had made him feel like he was floating.

Quinn pulled off his clothes, replacing them with a questionable smelling sweatshirt and gym shorts, his movements jerky and stiff like his body was protesting every step. He glanced at the mirror on his way to the door, catching sight of himself—his face pale and drawn, his eyes shadowed with fatigue. He looked like hell. He felt like it, too.

With a sigh, he opened the door to find Elias leaning against the wall, one brow raised. “Dude, you look like you got hit by a truck.”

“Feel like it too,” Quinn muttered, stepping out into the hallway. The bright lights made his eyes sting, and he squinted, wishing he’d grabbed his sunglasses. Or maybe he just wanted to hide behind them.

Elias clapped a hand on his shoulder, giving him a once-over. “Rough night?”

Quinn forced a smile, but it felt more like a grimace. “Something like that.”

“Yeah, well, better shake it off. Coach is on one today, and he’s not in the mood for anyone dragging ass.” Elias started down the hall, and Quinn followed, trying to push everything to the back of his mind. Practice. Focus on practice.

But his thoughts wouldn’t settle. They kept bouncing back and forth like a damn tennis match: his girlfriend’s face, her worried messages, the way she always seemed to know when he needed her without him even having to say it. And then the other girl—the way she made him feel like he could breathe, like he could forget everything for just a little while.

He clenched his fists as they reached the elevator, trying to steady his breathing. Elias was rambling about something, but Quinn couldn’t focus on the words. His mind was a blur, a mess of emotions that he couldn’t untangle.

The elevator doors opened, and they stepped inside, the metal walls reflecting their distorted images. Quinn caught sight of himself again and grimaced. “I look like shit, don’t I?”

Elias snorted. “You said it, not me.” He glanced at Quinn, his expression shifting to something more serious. “But seriously, man, you okay? You’ve been off for a while now.”

Quinn swallowed hard, his throat dry. How could he even begin to explain what he was feeling? How could he tell Elias that he was standing on the edge of a cliff, teetering between falling and flying, and he didn’t know which one he wanted more?

“I’m fine,” he lied, the words heavy on his tongue. “Just tired.”

Elias didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t press. Instead, he just nodded, letting the subject drop as the elevator dinged and the doors slid open to the lobby.

They walked out into the warm Boston morning, the humid air biting at Quinn’s skin through his clothes. He shivered, shoving his hands into his pockets as they made their way to the team bus. He tried to lose himself in the routine, in the familiar motions of getting on the bus, finding his seat, putting in his headphones. But even the music couldn’t drown out his thoughts, couldn’t silence the nagging voice in his head that kept telling him he was screwing up.

He leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes, willing himself to focus on the day ahead. Practice. Game plan. Not on the texts waiting on his phone, not on the girl he was supposed to love and the girl he couldn’t stop thinking about.

But his mind wouldn’t cooperate. It kept circling back, like a dog chasing its tail, never quite catching it but never stopping either. He thought about you, about the way she made him feel grounded, like he had a purpose. And then he thought about the other girl, about the way she made him feel alive, like he was on fire.

God, he was an idiot. A selfish, stupid idiot who didn’t deserve either of them.

He opened his eyes, staring blankly at the seat in front of him. What was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to choose between two things that felt like they were pulling him in opposite directions, like they were tearing him apart?

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out without thinking, his heart lurching in his chest. It was a text from you, and his stomach twisted as he read it:

“I’m here. Just got to the station. Can’t wait to see you.”

Quinn closed his eyes, a wave of guilt washing over him. You were here. You were here for him, because you thought he needed you. And maybe he did. Maybe he needed you more than he’d ever realized.

Quinn’s mind was spinning as the team bus rumbled through the streets of Boston, the city waking up around them in a blur of brick buildings and early morning light. He stared out the window, his reflection a pale, drawn ghost in the glass, looking back at him with tired eyes. The weight of his phone in his pocket felt like a lead ball, dragging him down deeper into the mess he’d made for himself.

He glanced around the bus, his teammates absorbed in their own routines—some with headphones on, nodding along to whatever music was blasting in their ears, others chatting quietly, their voices low and relaxed. Elias was beside him, scrolling through his phone, occasionally chuckling at something he saw. Quinn tried to mimic that ease, but his stomach was tied in knots, and every breath felt like it caught in his throat.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to find a position that didn’t make him feel like he was about to crawl out of his own skin. But no matter how he twisted or turned, the guilt was there, gnawing at him, a constant reminder that he’d messed up in a way that couldn’t be easily fixed.

His phone buzzed again, and he bit down hard on his bottom lip, his hand twitching towards his pocket before he stopped himself. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—look at it. Not yet. The last thing he needed was to see another text from you, filled with love and concern, when all he could think about was how he didn’t deserve any of it.

But of course, his brain wouldn’t let him rest. As much as he wanted to ignore it, your last message played on a loop in his mind: “I’m here. Just got to the station. Can’t wait to see you.” He could picture you standing there, suitcase in hand, maybe looking around for him, your eyes bright with anticipation. The thought made his chest tighten, a painful squeeze that sent a ripple of nausea through his gut.

He thought about how you’d always been there for him, how you never hesitated to drop everything and come running when he needed you. And now, here you were, doing it again, without knowing that he’d spent the night with someone else, that he’d betrayed the trust you’d placed in him so completely.

God, he was a piece of work.

Quinn shifted again, his knee bouncing nervously as he tried to focus on anything else—the pattern of the bus seat, the way the sunlight filtered through the trees, the hum of the engine beneath his feet. But everything came back to you, and the way he was going to have to face you in a few hours, knowing what he’d done.

A part of him—the rational, level-headed part that everyone always said he had—knew that he should come clean, that he should tell you everything and deal with the consequences. But the other part, the part that was scared and ashamed and desperate to keep you in his life, was louder, drowning out the voice of reason with a hundred excuses and justifications.

He swallowed hard, his throat dry. What was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to look you in the eye and pretend that everything was okay, when he knew it wasn’t? But then again, how could he tell you the truth and risk losing you forever?

He pressed his head against the cool glass of the bus window, staring out at the passing streets of Boston. The city looked bright and sunny, a stark contrast to the storm brewing in his mind. It was the kind of day that would normally have him in good spirits, maybe even cracking jokes with the guys. But not today. Today, he felt like he was carrying a mountain on his back.

The bus jolted as it hit a pothole, and Quinn’s head banged against the glass. “Ow, fuck,” he muttered, rubbing the sore spot. Elias glanced over from the seat next to him, eyebrows raised.

“You good, man?” he asked again, his tone a mix of concern and exasperation. Quinn knew Elias was just trying to help, but right now, all he wanted was to be left alone with his own stupidity.

“Yeah, just...headache,” Quinn lied, forcing a smile that probably looked more like a grimace. He didn’t know how to explain the real problem without sounding like the world’s biggest jerk. He wasn’t ready for the questions that would follow, the judgment, the inevitable “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Elias nodded, turning back to his phone, but Quinn could feel his eyes lingering, like he was trying to solve some kind of puzzle. Quinn wished he could give him the answer, wished he knew it himself. But all he had were a bunch of jumbled pieces that didn’t seem to fit together.

As the bus pulled up to the arena, Quinn grabbed his gear and followed the rest of the team inside. The familiar smell of a rink—ice, rubber, sweat—usually calmed his nerves, but today it just made him feel queasy. He trudged to the locker room, his legs feeling like lead, and sat down on the bench, staring at his skates like they might somehow offer him some guidance.

“Hey, Huggy,” Brock called from across the room, already halfway into his gear. “You gonna put those on, or are you just gonna stare at them all day?”

Quinn blinked, realizing he’d been sitting there for way too long. “Right, yeah,” he mumbled, pulling off his shoes and shoving his feet into his skates. The process felt mechanical, like he was going through the motions without really being there. He tied the laces tight, almost too tight, like he was trying to squeeze out the guilt that sat heavy in his chest.

As he laced up, his mind wandered back to last night. He remembered the way her fingers had grazed his wrist, the light touch sending sparks through his skin. He remembered the look in her eyes, that dangerous mix of desire and something else—something that made him feel like he was balancing on a razor’s edge. And then he remembered your text, the way your voice had sounded over the phone, so soft, so worried. The contrast made him feel like he was being split down the middle, two halves of a person who didn’t know how to be whole anymore.

Quinn dragged his skates across the locker room floor, the sharp blades scraping against the concrete as he walked to the bench. His hands moved on autopilot, grabbing pads, buckling straps, all while his mind replayed the same scene over and over again: your smile, your eyes, the sound of your voice. The guilt gnawed at him, relentless, like a dog with a bone it refused to let go.

He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice Brock sidling up next to him until the guy was practically in his lap.

“You look like someone ran over your puppy,” Brock quipped, pulling on his jersey with a grunt. “What’s up with you today?”

Quinn forced a laugh, but it came out more like a wheeze. “Just didn’t sleep well, I guess,” he lied, his stomach twisting into another knot. Brock, bless his soul, nodded, accepting the excuse without question.

“Yeah, well, try to pull it together, man. You’ve got that ‘I just accidentally liked my ex’s Instagram post from 2017’ face.”

Quinn blinked, momentarily pulled out of his spiraling thoughts. “Is that...a thing?”

“Definitely. Don’t ask me how I know.”

Quinn couldn’t help but chuckle, a real one this time, and for a moment, he felt a little bit lighter. But the moment passed quickly, like a cloud drifting over the sun, and the heaviness settled back in.

He needed to tell someone. He really did, and he thought about telling Brock, someone a little older, with a little more experience, but he knew it wouldn’t go well. The man had a wife and kid, and admitting to him that he’s a cheater couldn’t go any way but sideways.

He finished gearing up, the ritual of it providing some small comfort, like if he could just get everything on right, he’d be okay. But as he stepped onto the ice, the cool air hitting his face, he knew it was only a temporary reprieve.

The practice rink the Bruins had given them was buzzing with activity, the sound of skates cutting into the ice, pucks clattering against the boards, the low hum of voices. Normally, this was his sanctuary, the place where he could clear his mind and focus on nothing but the game. But today, the rink felt like a prison, every noise amplified, every movement too sharp.

Quinn skated a few laps, trying to shake the feeling, but it clung to him like a second skin. He saw you in every reflection, heard your voice in the echoes of the arena. And every time, it was like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of him.

“Quinn! Heads up!”

He barely had time to react before the puck came flying toward him, and he fumbled to catch it, the black rubber slipping off the tip of his stick and skidding across the ice. A chorus of laughter erupted from the other guys, and Quinn forced a grin, trying to play it off.

“Nice hands, Huggy,” one of them called out, and Quinn gave a mock salute, his heart pounding in his chest.

As practice dragged on, Quinn found it harder and harder to focus. His mind kept wandering, and every time it did, it went straight back to you. He thought about the last time you’d visited him, how you’d spent the weekend curled up together on the couch, watching movies and talking about everything and nothing. He thought about the way you’d looked at him, like he was the only person in the world, and how he’d felt like the biggest fraud alive.

He thought about a few mornings ago, when he’d kissed you goodbye before heading to the rink, your sleepy smile still lingering in his mind. He hadn’t known then what he was going to do later, hadn’t known how everything would spiral out of control. But now, he couldn’t stop thinking about it, couldn’t stop replaying the night in his head, wondering how he’d let it happen.

The worst part was, he knew he didn’t deserve you. Not after what he’d done. But he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, couldn’t imagine his life without you in it. And so, he found himself trapped, caught between his guilt and his fear, unable to move in either direction.

When practice finally ended, Quinn was the first off the ice, practically sprinting to the locker room. He needed a moment to breathe, to think, to figure out what the hell he was going to do. But as soon as he sat down on the bench, his phone buzzed in his pocket, and he knew without looking that it was you.

He stared at it, his heart in his throat, his fingers trembling as he reached for it. The screen lit up with your name, and for a split second, he considered ignoring it. But he couldn’t do that, couldn’t just pretend you weren’t there, waiting for him, loving him, trusting him.

With a deep breath, Quinn swiped his thumb across the screen and brought the phone to his ear. “Hey,” he said, his voice low, barely above a whisper.

Quinn swallowed hard, his heart racing as he heard your voice on the other end of the line. It was like a balm and a burn at the same time, soothing yet searing into him with the heat of his own guilt.

“Hey! I’m here at the station,” you said, sounding bright and cheery, completely unaware of the emotional storm that was tearing him apart. “I was just wondering if you’re on your way or if I should grab a coffee or something?”

Your words were so casual, so normal, that they felt almost surreal to him. He closed his eyes, the images of last night flashing like a movie reel against the backs of his eyelids—her laughter, the way she’d leaned in close, her lips brushing his neck in a way that had sent shivers down his spine. And then he’d see your face, smiling up at him with that same soft look you always gave him, the one that made him feel like he was exactly where he needed to be.

He forced a laugh, trying to keep his voice steady. “Yeah, I’m, uh, just finishing up at practice. I’ll be there soon.” The lie tasted bitter on his tongue, but he didn’t know what else to say. How could he tell you the truth? How could he explain that he’d been weak, that he’d betrayed you, that he didn’t deserve to have you waiting for him?

“Great! I can’t wait to see you.” Your voice was so full of warmth and excitement that it made his stomach twist. He could picture you standing there, probably wearing that old Canucks jacket of his that you loved, the one that was two sizes too big but somehow looked perfect on you. The thought made his chest tighten with an ache that he couldn’t shake.

“Yeah, me too,” he managed to say, his voice cracking just a little. “See you soon.”

As he hung up, Quinn let out a long breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. The guilt felt like a heavy stone lodged in his gut, pressing down with an intensity that made it hard to breathe. He dropped his head into his hands, fingers tangling in his hair as he tried to make sense of his own stupidity.

He should have never gone out last night. He should have stayed in, watched TV, gone to bed early—anything other than what he did. But instead, he’d let himself get swept up in the moment, let himself be led astray by a smile and a soft touch, and now he was paying the price for it.

Why couldn’t he just have said no? Why couldn’t he have just kept his distance, like a rational human being?

But no, Quinn Hughes had to be an idiot. A complete, utter, monumental idiot.

He glanced around the locker room, hoping for some kind of distraction. Most of the guys were still milling around, showering, changing, talking about the upcoming game, like it was just another day. Like his whole world wasn’t collapsing around him.

Quinn stared at the locker room ceiling, the fluorescent lights casting harsh, white beams that felt like an interrogation spotlight. The thought of meeting you at the station had his stomach in knots, guilt gnawing at him like a relentless beast. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to find some semblance of calm, but the images of last night wouldn’t leave him alone.

“Why did I do that? Why am I like this?” Quinn muttered to himself, rubbing his temples as if he could erase the memory with enough pressure. The smell of sweat and damp gear filled his nostrils, a stark contrast to the sweet perfume that had lingered on his skin just hours ago. He grimaced, suddenly aware of how sick it made him feel.

His phone buzzed again. Without even looking, he knew it was another message from you, probably asking how long he’d be. He couldn’t ignore you forever, but he also wasn’t ready to face you. He needed more time—time to figure out what the hell he was going to say, time to gather the pieces of his shattered conscience.

With a groan, Quinn grabbed his phone and quickly ordered an Uber. The bus to the station was out of the question; the last thing he needed was more time to wallow in his guilt with nothing but his own thoughts for company. As soon as the confirmation buzzed through, he grabbed his gear, barely acknowledging his teammates as he rushed out of the locker room.

Within minutes, a car pulled up, and Quinn slid into the backseat, barely managing a greeting to the driver. He stared out the window as the city blurred by, the buildings and people blending into a haze of colors and motion. His reflection in the glass looked haunted, a man on the brink of losing everything.

His mind kept replaying the events of last night, a relentless loop of regret and self-loathing. He thought about the way he’d let himself be drawn in, the way he’d ignored that little voice in his head telling him to stop, to walk away. But he hadn’t listened. He’d let his guard down, let himself be led by his desires instead of his brain, and now he was stuck in a mess of his own making.

Quinn squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the images, but they kept coming—her smile, her touch, the way she’d looked at him like he was the only man in the room. It had been intoxicating, a rush he hadn’t felt in a long time. But now, it felt like poison, spreading through him with every thought, every memory.

He opened his eyes, staring down at his hands, noticing the way they shook. He felt sick, his stomach churning with a mix of fear and guilt. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have thrown away everything he had with you for a moment of weakness?

The driver made a comment about the weather, but Quinn barely heard him, his thoughts too loud, too chaotic. He just nodded absently, his mind a million miles away. He couldn’t focus on anything but you, waiting for him at the station, completely unaware of the storm raging inside his head.

The car finally pulled up to the station, and Quinn could see the throngs of people milling about, all of them blissfully unaware of the inner turmoil raging inside him. He thanked the driver and stepped out, his legs feeling like they might give out beneath him. With every step towards the entrance, his resolve weakened, the weight of his guilt dragging him down like an anchor.

There you were, standing near the entrance with your suitcase by your side, your face lighting up as soon as you spotted him. Quinn’s heart lurched painfully in his chest at the sight of your smile—so warm, so genuine, so undeserved. He forced a smile in return, even though it felt like a mask, a flimsy attempt to cover up the disaster he’d become.

“Hey, you,” you greeted him, your voice as bright and cheerful as ever. “I missed you.”

Quinn swallowed hard, the lump in his throat nearly choking him. “Missed you too,” he replied, his voice cracking just slightly. He leaned in to hug you, his arms wrapping around you with a desperation that he hoped you wouldn’t notice. But even as he held you close, the guilt gnawed at him, a constant reminder of the mess he’d made.

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him with those eyes that always seemed to see right through him. “You okay? You seem…off.”

“Yeah, just tired,” Quinn lied, his smile faltering for a moment. “It’s been a long morning.”

Quinn watched your expression as you searched his face, and he felt a pang of anxiety strike deep in his gut. He couldn’t remember a time when lying to you had felt so awful. You were the one stable thing in his chaotic life, the person who always knew him better than he knew himself. And now, all he could do was lie to you, feeding you half-truths like they were the easiest thing in the world. The guilt twisted in his stomach like a knife.

“I get it,” you said, giving him a small, understanding smile that made him feel even worse. “Traveling always wears you out.”

“Yeah, that’s it,” he said, trying to muster a laugh that sounded more like a cough. He reached for your suitcase, needing something to do with his hands. “Here, let me grab that for you.”

As he lifted the bag, he could feel your eyes on him, studying him. He turned his head slightly, avoiding your gaze, afraid that if he looked at you for too long, he might break down right there in the middle of the station.

The two of you walked toward the exit, and Quinn’s mind raced, trying to find a way to change the subject, to steer the conversation away from any topic that might reveal just how messed up he was feeling inside. He felt like he was standing on a tightrope, trying to balance between the truth and the lies, between who he was and who he pretended to be.

“So, how was your trip?” he asked, hoping to sound casual, but his voice came out a little too high-pitched, like a teenager caught sneaking in past curfew. “Everything go okay?”

“It was fine,” you replied, glancing at him sideways, deciding not to tell him about the woman with the accent who preached how much men sucked. “Kind of boring, actually. I kept thinking about you.”

Quinn’s heart sank. Of course, you were thinking about him. You always were. And here he was, thinking about someone else. His stomach twisted with a fresh wave of nausea.

“Yeah?” He forced a grin, trying to keep the mood light. “You didn’t have too much fun without me, did you?”

You laughed, the sound like a melody he didn’t deserve to hear. “Not a chance. You’re the fun one, remember?”

Quinn managed a weak chuckle. “Yeah, right. Me, fun. That’s a good one.”

As you two stepped outside, the warm air hit him, and he took a deep breath, hoping to clear his head. The sunlight was blinding, making him squint as he tried to navigate through the crowds. He was grateful for the distraction, for anything that would keep him from focusing on the dark cloud hanging over his head.

Quinn tried to focus on the city around him, on the way the skyscrapers loomed overhead, their glass windows reflecting the blazing sun. He tried to lose himself in the noise of the traffic, the blaring horns and the distant chatter of people passing by. Anything to distract him from the overwhelming guilt clawing at his chest. He wished he could just disappear, sink into the pavement, and let the earth swallow him whole.

As you reached the hotel, Quinn fumbled with his key card, his hands shaking so badly he could barely swipe it. You gave him a puzzled look, and he managed a weak smile, hoping you couldn’t see the panic in his eyes. The door finally clicked open, and he hurried inside, dropping your suitcase by the bed.

“Home sweet home,” he said, trying to sound cheerful, but his voice cracked, betraying him. He turned away, pretending to adjust the air conditioning, but really just needing a moment to collect himself. The room felt stifling, the walls closing in on him, each breath a struggle.

You wandered over to the window, gazing out at the city below. “It’s a nice view,” you said softly, and Quinn’s chest ached at the sound of your voice. You were always so kind, so thoughtful, and here he was, lying to you every step of the way. He hated himself for it.

“Yeah, it’s… something,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck, feeling the tension coil up his spine. He knew he needed to tell you, to come clean about everything, but the words felt like lead in his throat, heavy and impossible to get out. How could he explain something like this? How could he make you understand when he didn’t even understand it himself?

He took a step closer to you, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure you could hear it. He hesitated, his hand hovering over your shoulder, before finally giving in and wrapping his arms around you from behind. You leaned back into him, and for a moment, he closed his eyes, breathing in your scent, feeling the familiar warmth of your body against his. It was almost enough to make him forget, to pretend that everything was okay, that he hadn’t completely screwed up the best thing in his life.

Almost.

“Quinn, are you sure you’re okay?” you asked again, turning in his arms to face him, your brows furrowed in concern. Your eyes searched his face, and he felt like you could see right through him, like you knew every dirty secret he was trying to hide.

“I…” He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. “I need to tell you something.” His voice was barely a whisper, the words sticking to his throat like glue.

“What is it?” You tilted your head, looking up at him with those wide, trusting eyes, and he felt like the worst person in the world. How could he do this to you? How could he destroy everything you had together?

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, he leaned down and kissed you, hard and desperate, like a drowning man grasping for air. You gasped in surprise, your hands coming up to cup his face, and for a moment, he lost himself in the kiss, in the feel of your lips against his, soft and familiar and everything he didn’t deserve.

When he finally pulled back, he was breathing heavily, his forehead resting against yours. “I’m so sorry,” he choked out, his voice breaking. “I’m so, so sorry.”

You blinked, confusion etched across your features. “Quinn, what’s going on? You’re scaring me.”

“I messed up,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “I messed up so bad, and I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t even know if I can.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and Quinn felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest. He wanted to hold you, to comfort you, but he knew he had no right. Not after what he had done.

“I need you to know that I love you,” he said, his voice cracking. “I love you so much, and I never meant to hurt you. I never meant for any of this to happen.”

“What did you do?” you whispered, your voice trembling.

Quinn took a deep breath, his hands shaking as he tried to steady himself. He knew he couldn’t keep lying, couldn’t keep hiding the truth from you.

You deserved better than that.

You deserved so much more than he could ever give you.

[fairlyang]

Let you break my heart again 🕷️

you are in love with your best friend

w/c: 999

pairing: miguel o’hara x reader

tags: kinda angst? you’re so in love, he doesn’t feel the same, heartbreak, shitting n crying, slightly delusional

notes: the grip this song has had on me the past two weeks- this idea came to me last week I just HAD TO-

part two

You had been feeling down the entire day since you saw Miguel post the new girl he had been talking to and calling her his girlfriend with today’s date on the caption.

Him calling you a couple hours after asking if you wanted to go to a party with him only added salt to the wound.

You have been hopelessly and desperately in love with him since your freshmen year of high school.

8 years.

8 years of silence.

8 years of torture.

No one even looked his way in high school because he, alongside you, were known as the science nerds of the school. You obviously didn’t care, if anything it made falling for him that much predictable.

At least for anyone with eyes and good at deciphering body language.

Which Miguel wasn’t.

Somehow he never realized and you never had the balls to confess your love to him.

After graduating high school he had quite possibly the biggest glow up (unbeknownst to you he had turned into spider-man) and first semester of uni changed everything for him.

He had girls eating out of the palm of his hand and practically falling to their knees for him as if they hadn’t been using him to do their homework just a few months back.

Miguel didn’t seem to care or see through all the girl’s intentions.

Meanwhile you had liked him when he would wear nerdy little crewnecks and those thick glasses that had now been long abandoned.

You liked him when he was getting brutally bullied and were the only one to ever stick up for him, but it never going well for either of you.

You liked him when he was going through a hard time with his mom and relied on you heavily for nearly everything.

You liked him when the revelation of who his father was, tore him up to literal pieces.

He was always in your head. Whether it be daydream, hearing someone talk about him, or actually dreaming about him at night.

Only in your mind can you pretend that you’re his girlfriend. That he likes you.

That you’re his first and only choice.

That you’re the only one he wants.

That he’s just as in love with you as you are with him.

He had taken over all your thoughts possible and it never got any easier.

You thought you’d get over it after sophomore year but it only grew as he ended up being your only friend throughout high school.

Nothing was more heartbreaking than having to hear him talk about all the girls he would go out with, or fuck.

The worst was when you’d actually go to parties with him. You’d end up almost throwing up or crying in the bathroom after seeing yet another new girl grinding herself against him or a girl making out with him.

It never ended up being less heartbreaking. You had luckily made a few friends who tried their best to help.

Peter B and MJ.

Somehow you befriended them your first year of uni and all four of you became a little group. They were your occasional saviors when you’d find yourself sulking over Miguel being with another girl.

They’d always try to distract you and cheer you up.

Or if they were the ones to spot Miguel fooling around they’d turn you to the opposite direction to avoid your heart from crumbling again.

You felt as if you were being entrapped.

It was almost as if Miguel subconsciously knew what he was doing.

Because when he grew bored of a girl all of a sudden his attention would be fully on you.

Buying you food, getting you cute little plants, helping you study.

It was an endless cycle of pain and heartbreak then yearning and being enamored by him.

Right now was pure heartbreak and misery.

You had been crying for hours on end now and just let your sad playlist loop.

All you were wishing for now is that one day you’d stop falling in love with him.

That somehow your feelings for him would wash away and you’ll never have to deal with this heartbreak ever again.

But it’s been long now. These feelings weren’t going to disappear.

And he wasn’t going to magically fall in love with you.

Especially because he’s always been the one to let anyone and everyone know that you were only his best friend. And nothing more.

But the way he’d wrap his arms around you, leave kisses on your forehead and cheeks just boggled your head.

The way he would just stare at you when you were rambling about the newest science news you’d heard about.

The way he would hug you tightly at the most random times imaginable.

The way he’d willingly put his jacket on you if it were too chilly outside.

The way he would get so overprotective when a guy asks you out.

So you were always questioning what he really thought of you.

He never made it easy to decipher any of his feelings unless he was telling you up front, which he almost never did.

As more hot tears fell down your face, you could only pray that someone will like you like you like him.

It felt like such an impossible ask.

You loved him so much and you could practically feel pieces of your heart breaking. Why couldn’t he just reciprocate your love?

Why did you have to torture yourself like this?

Why is the only time you’re truly happy (besides when you’re with him) is when you’re dreaming about actually being with him?

Why is it so hard for him to romantically love you?

Why does it always have to be platonic?

Maybe one day you’ll be able to get over him and these feelings won’t be as strong.

Maybe one day you’ll find someone that’ll know how to take care of your heart and return your love.

Maybe one day it’ll be him.

[idesofrevolution]

Never Sleep with Your Phone On

Throughout recorded history, humans have been terrified of the dark. They created stories of sordid creatures of the night that would creep out from beneath your bed and drag you to some subterranean lair to languish in your final moments; or slither out of your mirror if you left it uncovered when your lights were extinguished to steal your soul from your snoring lips. The tales and cryptids across all cultures were all effective in terrifying their communities once the sun set on the horizon. Though that is not necessarily to say that every tale was crafted from pure imagination.

When technology bloomed, humans believed that the horrifying superstitions of yore were long behind them. They had evolved past the primitive fears of what lurks in the shadows, where in reality they had become complacent, arrogant, and lulled. Certainly some of the eldritch creatures had subsided, as all creatures do eventually. Though for every dead legend, a new myth sprouts, and each of those grew and evolved right there along with us. Which, of course, brings us to Asher.

Asher West was, by all accounts, a fairly normal guy. Graduated from high school, going straight into college on a modest academic scholarship. He played frisbee golf with his friends on the weekends, studied hard from 9 to 5, and was seldom seen without a cup of Starbucks in the mornings. He had a sizeable social media following, as was expected for someone with a traditionally handsome visage and adequately charismatic personality. Every day he'd happily post a quick selfie, posting for his thousands of admirers a run of the mill shirtless pic, often without so much as a filter. It'd almost become muscle memory for him: tap the camera icon, snap the pic, post with some benign emojis as the caption, and boom. 900 likes as the day meandered on. Did it provide him with a momentary burst of endorphins? Yes. Was it satisfying? Somewhat, at least he thought so. Years of his staggeringly average life had been all but usurped by this second life online, where he was glamorous, exciting, and adored.

It was so much easier to live in that fantasyland than to truly be present in the real world around him. He, as many of us are, was living his life as someone else- and a life that spectacled easily caught attention. It was easy to come across him in the sea of countless names and faces. It was easy to stumble upon that pretty face. It was easy find, attracting more than just starry eyed fans. Skulking in the void between lines of 1 and 0, buried deep in the infinite cosmic vacuum of the world electric and technological, another pair of eyes would befall him.

It had slinked into his vast sphere rather quickly, and it had begun to watch. Watching each and every 'tasteful' selfie, every vapid thought that he'd post, and every like and pin he'd make, it watched him with empty, expressionless black eyes from within a fragment of his phone's memory. It studied him, curious at first. Things of its nature were always curious, always inclined to watch and analyze and replicate. Even as he slept, his phone siphoning it's charge from it's cable, it would read. The more it saw, the more it had learned about Asher. In fact, it knew more of Asher than perhaps he himself was aware of, if not able to admit.

It had seen those intimate moments he'd taken careful measure to hide from the vast majority of those watching eyes. Second accounts under pseudonyms, gave way to countless of hidden alternate lives he lived: Tumblr blogs dedicated to bad-boy thrist traps and queer erotica, Twitter accounts cataloguing pictures and videos of his closest kept kinks, a well used and well loved Chaturbate account with his face tastefully cropped out of frame... all these lives immortalized in the endless archives of the internet. And after all it's patient watching, all the hours of analyzing, all the months of consuming his information, it had grown an attachment.

Asher had come home late one night. Not unusual for him, as the occasional party wouldn't derail his real life ambitions. After a few libations, and no small amount of cannabis, he'd made his way back home to his small apartment above the corner store. Just as he'd done numerous times before, he stripped himself of his shirt, pulling his camera from his jeans pocket, and snapped a slightly inebriated picture of himself. It'd be enough to boost his ego the next morning, enough to power through the long haul of his draining daily agenda.

SNAP. The flash of the camera went off, and his beloved face was shared for all to see. Though, that night, he mis stepped. Perhaps it was the booze, perhaps it was the toke, perhaps he was simply too tired to notice that he'd left the screen on. By the time he'd hit the bed he was out like a rock, collapsed onto the bed and quietly drifting to sleep. There on the brightly lit screen, in the darkness of the unlit bedroom, it saw its opportunity.

From it's perch on the nightstand, the phone began to spark. Small sparks at first, a quick fizzle and quiet pop. Then more: louder, brighter, faster. It began to rumble against the wooden tabletop, sizzling and sparkling as it danced before the screen went black and dead. Slowly, electric crackling gave way to a bubbling sludge. The glass subtly started wave and bellow, as if it were liquified, not taking long to begin to spill over the edges of it's metal frame. The black sludge fell like oil onto the hardwood floors, collecting in a growing, bubbling pool.

From the primordial ooze burst forth a long, slender arm; it's taloned fingers scraping as it braced itself on the ground. A second arm clawed it's way out, and with an echoing slosh, it had begun to pull itself out of the sludge. It's long, emaciated torso and thick muscled legs had slithered out, landing on two massive, clawed feet. It towered above Asher's bed as he slumbered, bent over so as not to hit it's back onto the eight foot ceiling. It stood there, looking at the person it'd observed and studied for so long. The image presented in the world it'd pried himself out of was nothing of what lay before it. From what it had gathered from his more clandestine dealings, it had noted that he was far from the archetypes he'd collected on Asher's behalf.

He did not have the tattoos like those he'd pinned on Pinterest. He was not wearing the dark, heavy clothes like those he'd saved on Instagram. He wasn't well endowed like the video's he'd favorited on X-Tube. He didn't give off the aura of some rebellious casanova like the stories he'd reblogged on Tumblr. To a creature of symmetry and consistency, this was an error to be corrected; a dichotomy requiring integration.

It crouched down above his drooling maw, gently caressing his head to face it's clenching claw. The talons pressed ever so tenderly past his lips and over his tongue, becoming the very black ooze it had crawled out of once more. It flooded down his throat as it's second arm made it's way into his mouth, as if it were being sucked into Asher. He was drinking it's essence, it's aqueous body slurping down into his core. It's torso compressed as it wriggled down his gullet, ringing out splashing squelches as Asher gargled it down.

As quickly as it had entered, it's long legs slithered into his mouth, leaving only its large feet thrashing about in the air. Asher's stomach was bubbling and undulating under the sheer pressure from this invasion, growing to a large gut spilling over the waistband of his jeans. One loud slurp and a crisp pop, and the feet slipped into him, leaving his writhing body squirming on the bed. It expanded within him, incorporating itself into every fibre of his being. Pressing into his arms, his legs, pushing up his throat until it met the top of his palate. The pressure began to mount, black goo dribbling down the corners of his mouth, until a wet crack sounded in his cavernous head, and it flowed into his skull.

It took mere seconds for it to reach his brain, which it flowed freely into throughout the grooves and nooks. Entirely coated, imbued and inoculated with it, the deed was done. Asher opened his eyes, tiredly sitting up in his bed. He looked over at his phone, tapping it with his finger: 3 AM.

At first it seemed like a nightmare. He could recall moments here and there, though the majority of his 'dream' was a blur. From what he could remember, it was nothing visual he could recollect... but it he could recollect the sensations. Wet, slimy, invasive, and cold- much like he felt drunkenly sleeping in his cold sweat. He brought himself to his feet, dragging his feet on the slippery floorboards to his bathroom.

Flipping the switch, the harsh fluorescent light flickered to life above him, as he turned the nozzle on his shower. Immediately, his jaw nearly dropped to the floor. In the mirror, Asher finally caught a glimpse of himself: strange black bruises and undulating bumps were scattered across his body. That pristine, smooth skin was now covered in sprawling web-like lesions from head to toe. He had mere moments to process the horror reflected in front of him before an immediate pain in the gut had him doubled over the counter.

His stomach started to bubble and groan, and through the foggy haze of his blurred vision he saw his feet begin to ripple and swell. He could feel the slick sweaty soles slide across the tile floor as they expanded and grew. As they reached a substantial size 13, the swelling crept it's way up his calves and into his thighs. Asher wobbled on his feet, as if they were filled with gelatin beneath his slippery skin while his knees began to buckle. He collapsed into a crouch, the fumes of sweaty footmusk bellowing up to his nostrils as his legs cracked and stretched above. He'd never truly experienced scentplay as he'd so dearly fantasized about throughout countless hours of edging to such content, nor had this funk ever emanated from his own soles. In the moment, he felt something within him prod into his brain. As if poking the individual folds of his cerebrum with thousands of tiny needles, causing cascades of thoughts to enter his mind- all of which telling him to embrace. In his mind's eye, he could see himself burying his face into his sweaty sole, between his long toes, lapping up every droplet of sweat that was spewing from his pores. The thought was buried deep in his subconscious, pried out with expert measure, by something now within him.

Grasping for anything to steady himself on, Asher gripped the edge of the sink, pulling himself upright once again and now towering above the countertop. He hung his aching head low, watching with strange newfound fervor as his cock began to feel heavier and heavier. Drool started to drip from the bottom of his lip, landing square onto the lengthening shaft. Like a sandbag, his balls dropped and swelled while he got harder and harder. Another onslaught of pinpricks in his head brought forth another command: stroke.

Steam started build in the bathroom as the hot water continued to fall from the shower, intensifying the scent wafting from now both his feet and his pendulous sac. Each breath of hot, wet musk hit like ecstasy, and with bated breath, he softly grasped ahold of his python and began to pump. Each knead of his engorged member was accompanied by a change. His fingers grew long and sinewy, smooth and slick with precum. His arms remained thin but toned, growing longer and packed with lean muscle. His torso lengthened, topped off with a firm pair of pecs above his sinewy abdomen.

As pressure began to build in his balls, his mind began to feel the needles one last time, imbuing his brain with one last injection of a single trait: pride. He didn't need the approval of anyone else, he was aware of how fucking hot he was. He didn't need to heed the rules that society had straddled him with, he always forged his own path. He had no fears of recompense for his attitude, his ego, his spirit- the world would either stand with him, or he would step on top of them. Either way, what bliss. As the last of his inhibitions and fears had gathered in his groin, he cried out in elation as he erupted. Rope after rope of black sludge shot from his cannon, washing him with a sense of relief he'd never before known. He released his grip on his softening cock, hanging at an obscene eleven inches. He smirked at the sludge coating his mirror and pooling beneath his toes. A sight like that would have shocked and terrified the old Asher, though as he stood before his reflection, devoid of any tension, he relented to the entity within him. It had delivered onto him a new self, a new image, a new viewpoint. As tattoos both vulgar and delicate began to sprawl across his skin, he happily admired his new likeness.

The entity had bestowed a gift to him; throughout the horror, throughout the fear, he was becoming the true Asher that had only ever peeked out from the abyss of his psyche. He leered, bringing his thumb and middle finger together before snapping loudly. From his pores, the black sludge began to spill across his body until he was nearly covered from the neck down in what appeared to be a rubber suit before it began to become a bit more defined. A plain white tee shirt, classically fashioned with a black and white varsity jacket from his college. Skinny, weathered black jeans barely containing his sizeable commando bulge beneath it's thin fabric. On his feet, a pair of white socks and tightly tied high top Chucks, quelling the ripe stink of his soles within the sneaker for some sub to pry off and enjoy.

He grinned, posing and modeling for himself, before he finally turned off the steaming water. After the long, arduous, painful process, the entity had incorporated itself entirely within him- now completely indistinguishable from parasitic to symbiotic. It had rewritten him, completely remade him in the likeness of who he had shown the vast virtual world. There was no cognitive dissonance, there were no lies, there was no deception. All that remained was the Asher he had created in his fantasy, now ready to fuck the real world and all within it.

Thus, as our creature feature comes to an end, I leave you with a modicum of friendly advice. Don't leave your phone on as you slumber, for those that are watching, those that are waiting, those that have been learning are a mere sheet of glass away from finding their way inside. Take my counsel, or ignore it. But do so knowing the outcome, and whether or not you are prepared to weather such a storm.

[astonmartinii]

lewis x accountant!reader if that's ok, pretty please 😋

get the bag | lewis hamilton social media au

pairing: lewis hamilton x accountant!reader

sometimes the perfect pair is a millionaire f1 driver and a top accountant.

lewishamilton

liked by georgerussell63, yourusername and 1,123,878 others

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton: holiday lovin 🌊

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user89 alert alert lewis is cuffed wtf is going on

georgerussell63 ahh y/n has finally gotten the esteemed instagram post

yourusername had me rotting in the basement

lewishamilton i just made our relationship public and the first thing you say is i have you locked in the basement ???

yourusername oops ... love you 🫶

user48 the end of the slag era ... i need a moment

yourusername added to their story

[caption: working lady needs enough caffeine to fuel a rocket]

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, pierregasly and 10,673 others

tagged: lewishamilton

yourusername: weekends are for racing (and winning) ;)

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user77 okay i've come to the conclusion that she slays

lewishamilton much easier with a lucky charm in the garage

yourusername pretty sure you were a seven time world champ before i met you but yeah i'll take the credit for this one xx

user12 i'm so glad he has someone who celebrates him as much as he should be

user65 literally thank the lord

f1wagupdates

liked by 1,078 others

tagged: yourusername, lewishamilton

f1wagsupdates: this is y/n y/ln, lewis hamilton's new girlfriend. not much is known about her except that she's an accountant at a big firm in london, she's reportedly been with lewis for five months and the pair met in a cafe in south kensington.

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user47 oh god smart and pretty? leave some for the rest of us

user21 call me crazy but i'm ready to defend this relationship with my life

user66 real question is whether roscoe likes her or not

roscoelovescoco i loves y/n very muchs

user90 LMAOOOO

mercedesamgf1

liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell63 and 554,003 others

tagged: yourusername, roscoelovescoco

mercedesamgf1: two lovely guests in the garage this weekend! @redbullracing maybe you could get some advice from y/n, make sure no more catering budget mishaps 😉

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user89 LMAO THEY WENT THERE

yourusername i'm not quite sure they have the budget for my expertise

redbullracing way harsh y/n

user71 i love y/n this just confirms it

lewishamilton my two favourite people

lewishamilton

liked by yourusername, pierregasly and 1,302,776 others

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton: spending time with princess

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yourusername love you bub xx

lewishamilton love you more

user57 god. i need this in my life

georgerussell63 so when is this double date carmen and i have been promised?

yourusername next weekend work?

yourusername

liked by mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton and 13,567 others

tagged: lewishamilton

yourusername: happy birthday baby!! you've been the best thing to ever happen to me and i'm so grateful i get to live this life with you xx

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lewishamilton i love you too, thank you for always being there for me

yourusername always

user57 gonna stargaze on the train tracks tonight

roscoelovescoco happy birthdays dad !!

user90 i love them so much

note: hope you enjoyed!! it's a bit shorter than i wanted it to be but i hope you enjoyed xx