#women's wrestling appreciation

[yuri-is-online]

Head empty... brain replaced by thoughts of a pro wrestling obsessed Yuu who everyone us surprised Vil gets along with.... maybe even wants to kiss idk

[mailikeswrestling]

warm take maybe but i don’t understand how anyone can care about what wrestlers bodies look like

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

nvm fuck all that im watching beautiful women hit each other with ladders

[spdk1]

REVIEW: Pro Wrestling Crate February 2023 Spoilers

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

The Fun Kind of Sparring

Soldier Boy (The Boys) x Reader

Minors do ¡NOT! interact. This is not for you.

A/N: I haven’t seen the Boys and won’t BUTT that finale, amirite??? So in honor of the glorious return of Jensen Ackles, maybe the finest man who’s ever existed- seriously, when the aliens invade, show them him and they’ll be besotted by his beauty- I wrote this for all y’all SB lovers. Just note that I do not endorse any of this man’s actions, and if you do… the fuck?

I think it goes without saying but this is not my picture, it belongs to EW. (Too tired to make icons 💪)

Anyways, icons by me and all interaction-especially commentary- is appreciated!

Content/Content Warning: straight filth. The mouth on this man is crazy. Diddle that skittle.

****************************************************

It really had just been sparring. A little one on one, if you will. Me and Soldier Boy. Soldier Boy and me.

If it were anyone else, being pinned down to the ground would be the opposite of erotic. It would be annoying, and I’d be flailing around, trying to hit my partner in the balls.

But with Soldier Boy? We’d been skirting around each other since The Boys broke him out. Well, that’s a lie. I’ve been skirting around him, he’s made it more than a little obvious that he’s into me. I don’t know if it’s that he just wants a quick lay or what, but because I’m unfortunately attracted to him, I don’t really care.

Especially right now, when I’m pinned under him on the gym mat.

“Y’know, we shouldn’t do this,” I stall, no meaning behind my words.

“Sure, sweetheart,” he humors me. His lips are mere inches away from mine, his hair falling against my forehead. And I think I’m drunk on the scent of his pungent aftershave.

“I mean, you’re like, what, 103?” I ponder aloud, trying to distract myself from the fact that the Soldier Boy is rested over me in a plank, shirtless. That I can feel his warm breath on my face. That it smells like peppermints.

“104, actually, sweets,” he corrects. He’s had this shot-eating grin plastered on his face since he managed to wrestle me down, because like me, he knows exactly how this is going to end. But unlike me, he’s not remotely hesitant about showing it. And because he’s a jerk, he’s making me make the first move. But I’m not ready quite yet.

“104, right,” I mutter. “Older than my grandpa.”

“Smart girl,” he just goes along with everything I’m saying, letting me stall. The mischievous glint in his emerald colored eyes never ceases.

I nod slowly. “You are a very attractive grandpa,” I state, my tone far away as if I’m talking about him while he isn’t on top of me. Ohhh do I want him on top. You know what I mean.

“Thanks, sugar. But I think I’d prefer ‘Daddy’ if we’re going for the titles,” he says cheekily, still making no moves. I on the other hand am blushing the brightest red. Between the nicknames and Daddy, it’s too much to handle.

“O-oh,” I stutter, swallowing thickly. “Noted. But, uh, aren’t you more into… more mature women?”

“I believe all women are mature. I don’t discriminate, sweets,” he says, his shit-eating grin somehow eating more shit.

“Very feminist of you,” I say sarcastically.

“Damn straight,” he agrees.

I bite my lower lip. “You’re very experienced, right?”

“Not to toot my own horn or anything, but yes, I’d say so,” I can tell that he can tell that I can tell that this is volatile, just moments from going somewhere.

“Okay, so I guess my last question is this: how would you go about it. Y’know? With someone that you hypothetically wouldn’t treat as someone you paid for? That you’re sort of friends with?” I have to know. I’m too nervous for him not to lay it out plain and simple for me, I need to mentally prepare myself.

“Well, firstly, I think I’d have to know my girl likes it,” he gives me a pointed look.

“Your hypothetical girl,” I correct.

“Sure, my hypothetical girl,” he agrees. How has he not broken a single sweat this entire time? He’s been in a plank over me for the last however long it’s been and it doesn’t even affect him??

Quit getting distracted.

“Maybe she likes it rough. She wants to feel it for a few days,” I suggest, feeling my stomach knot at the notion. I’d been consistently growing wetter since he put me under him, and my arousal shows no signs of stopping.

“Okay, so I’d give it to her rough. Work her up until she’s begging for it… maybe I’ll- I mean, I’d- use my mouth first, taste her pretty pussy before I get my dick wet.” It’s all I can do not to moan at the dirty words falling out of his plush lips. Not to mention his honeyed transatlantic 50s accent… I’m so fucked. In so many ways. “Probably get her to come at least once, cause I’m sure she tastes as sweet as she looks.”

“Uh huh,” I mumble, the sound coming out higher than it should as I look at him with wide, attentive eyes.

“Don’t get me wrong, even before then I’d be marking her up and down. So that way everyone can see who made her feel so good, who got her walking so funny,” he backtracks. And again, the notion is far too good to be true. But the promise in his voice? It’s real. “I’d have to get her ready for my cock, stretch her out with my fingers. Start with one, but she’d be so wet that that wouldn’t even do anything. She’d be begging for more if I just did two, so I’ll give her three, make that needy cunt happy,” he muses. And it’s so, so erotic. And I’m ready to just lean up and kiss him, make him do all the things he says. But I’m captivated by his words, his narration- I think I could come from it alone. “I don’t know if I’d let her come again then. Because I think she’d be begging for my dick with how good my fingers feel stuffed in her tight pussy.”

Mother. Fucking. Hell. Oh. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He shouldn’t be real. These words should be banned from his vocabulary, because I am on fire right now.

“Where do you think this hypothetical girl would want me to come?” he asks out of curiosity, smirking. Probably at the way I’m looking at him like a bitch in heat.

“In her,” I mumble.

“In her where?” he asks smugly, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it.

“Ben,” I whine in protest.

“Oh, c’mon, tell me,” he chides. “For the sake of the story.”

“In my-her-pussy,” I answer in a breathy whisper.

“Good girl,” he praises, and it’s all I can do not to keen. I have to be soaked through my shorts by now, there’s no way. “Well, what I’d do next… that’s simple. I’d fuck her until she cried, and then I’d keep going. And I’d keep going until the only thing she can remember is my name, until she’s gooey and clingy and a sweet little fucked out thing, all for me,” he finishes, his grin from before returning back to his face. I’m losing it. I can’t think straight. And yet- he’s still waiting for me to make the first move. Son of a bitch.

“O-okay,” I clear my throat, unable to find my senses. “And if that hypothetical girl was me?” We both know it’s me, I just need to hear it.

“Well in that case I think I’d be the luckiest bastard who ever lived,” he says sincerely, looking at me with a gaze that can only be described as pure adoration and lust. Yep. That’s it for me. I lean up and kiss him with as much force as I can muster.

****************************************************

In the meantime… want more Soldier Boy?? Try Taming The Supe <3

[mrchiipchrome]

Misophonia

W.C.- 2.7k

Happy birthday to meeeeee

——————

It was no secret in the world of women’s football that you and Kyra Cooney-Cross were everyone’s unofficial little sisters. The younger of the two, you, had been moved up from the Arsenal academy at the same time that Kyra joined, and the unfamiliarity of the new team that you were suddenly thrown into made you two bond fast. Really fast.

Within 5 minutes of meeting the other, you had managed to plan at least 4 pranks to perform on the girls. Through Kyra, you also became much closer to the aussies of the team, just a sort of natural consequence of hanging around the Aussie all day. She was like your older, but just as mature as you, sister.

By month 3 of knowing each other, you and Kyra had managed to find every single button to press to make the other go completely mad. For Kyra, the main thing that set her off was when you tapped your feet against the floor repeatedly. For you it was whenever anyone made any type of noise with their mouths, with the obvious exception of speaking.

It just made you so irrationally mad, especially when someone was chewing all up in your ear, the sound so revolting that you often shouted for them to get away. Most of the team had learned their lessons already and knew not to even try to chew loudly near you, as you’d put your headphones on and ignore them for most of the day.

Kyra however, being the annoying little shit (lovingly) that she was, continued to do it every single second that she could, her favourite being when she knew that you couldn’t do anything about it, like in meetings.

She’d sit in the seat right behind you, leaning her head forward so that her chin would rest against your shoulder, and start to snack loudly on a granola bar or smacking her gum. The only thing you could do was sit there and take it, clenching your fist and wondering what it was you’d send in the text to Mini later that evening.

When Kyra would get told off by her team mom later that night she always looked at you, moving her thumb over her throat, telling you that you were dead.

But yet she kept on doing it, and you kept on telling Mini, it happened so often in fact that you too created a special bond with the older woman, her becoming a somewhat mother to you too. You always joined in on their facetime calls, Harper greatly appreciating you too.

Mini liked that Kyra had someone to goof around with at Arsenal, even if it did happen to be a 16 year old kid.

And as much as you liked and worked well with Kyra, not a single adult at Arsenal thought it was a good idea for you two to live with each other, no matter how much you begged and pleaded with them. Instead you were sent to live with Beth and Viv, whilst Kyra got her own apartment. That didn’t stop you from having sleepovers once a week however.

—------

Kyra breathing loudly directly beside your ear is the first thing you notice as you wake up from your nap in the community room at Arsenal, all groggy and confused, yet already annoyed by the girl’s incessant need to irritate you.

“Man, get the fuck out my ear!” Your voice is all scratchy and deep as you shout at the other girl, annoyance at her actions showing clearly on your face. More than a few heads snap up to look in your direction, quickly looking away when they notice the situation you find yourself in, many of them already knowing what the Aussie was doing.

“Awe is wittle baby Y/n a bit cranky from their nap?” Kyra antagonizes, trying to fuel the fire that was sure to start if she continued.

“You do remember that I know where you live? I can easily smother you in your sleep.” The girl’s knew to separate the two of you when the threats started flying, knowing that it could end with you two on the floor, wrestling or trying to strangle the other.

Alessia put her arm around a smiling Kyra’s waist, pulling her away from you even as she continued to breathe loudly, annoying you all the way from across the room. Viv sat down next to you on the bean bag, looking slightly irritated at your little outburst. She knew it wasn’t really your fault, but you’d been working with her on how to regulate your feelings.

“Y/n, we don’t threaten our friends, even when they’re being annoying. How about you go and apologise to Kyra and we’ll go get you some ice cream?” The dutchie was one of your many adoptive mothers in the squad, one of the more prominent ones as she knew exactly the pressure put on you as a young superstar in the making. She just wanted to help, often doing so by coming over with dinner for you and Kyra when you have your sleepovers, making sure that you didn’t trash your diets too much.

Looking down to the floor as you walk over to the older girl, she smiles at you mischievously like she knew exactly what it was you were doing. She knew that you’d been forced by your mom to apologize to her and she was enjoying the process of you going through all the stages of grief before getting to her.

Looking her in the eye, she sees the playful hate in your gaze, she already knew that you didn’t hate her but instead having to apologize for something that she caused.

“I’m sorry Kyra” Lowering your voice, she sees you look down at her in amusement. “I hope you know that I’m only doing this for the ice cream.” The Australian gasps in mock shock at your statement, but mostly at the fact that you’re allowed to get ice cream when she isn’t.

“VIV?! Why is Y/n getting ice cream and not me?” She catches the attention of the entire team with her bold accusation, most if not all of them rolling their eyes at her actions.

“Because Y/n doesn’t start fights, and she’s apologizing for threatening you.” Viv joins the others in rolling their eyes, taking hold of your shoulders as you make your way over to her, pulling you into a side hug.

With your backs to the young Aussie, neither of you notice the way she’s rushing towards you two, ready to absolutely throw herself onto you. She comes in with an awkward angle, her legs wrapping around both you and Vic’s waists, her arms locking around your necks, nearly choking you both out. Her head slots into the space between you and Viv’s heads.

Luckily enough for every Arsenal women’s fan ever, there’s a photographer there to capture the looks of absolute horror on you and the Dutch woman’s face and the unignorable grin on the Australian’s.

“Kyra Cooney-Cross get off right this second or I swear to god I will contact Katrina personally.” Viv comes off more than a little threatening, her voice deadly calm as she speaks to the younger girl. Kyra frowns playfully and slides down you and Viv’s excessively tall bodies, her feet touching the floor after a few seconds.

“What do they feed you dutchies? You need to stop being so tall, it’s annoying.” The short girl looks at you angrily when you pat her head like she was some sort of dog, waiting for a treat. She slaps your hand away when it comes down to pet her again and the only response she gets is a shrug from you as Viv drags you away to her car.

Only minutes later Kyra’s phone pings with a notification from instagram, seeing the ‘yourinstagram tagged you in a post’ had her stressing out. When she looked at the story you had tagged her in, she couldn’t help but roll her eyes, it was a selfie of you and Viv with ice creams in your hands, you with the biggest smile ever on your face and Viv looking slightly fed up with you.

The caption you’d typed out was ‘revenge is best served cold, right @/kyracooneyx’, she reposted your story to her own, typing out a simple ‘I hate you’. But with your quick thinking and amazing humor, you quickly reply with your own story, a caption reading ‘tell that to the ice cream you didn’t get’.

Kyra couldn’t even lie and say that it wasn’t funny, the little giggle she let out an indicator of how she enjoyed the little back and forth.

————————————————

Everyone in the team agreed that the decision to put you and Kyra in the same car on the road-trip across the country was a bad idea. They knew that it would be torture, Kyra would chew in your ear, or simply just breathe loudly next to you, making you really fucking irritated. You would constantly touch her, poking at her like you weren’t afraid of losing your fingers.

The unfortunate person having to sit next to you and Kyra during the entire ride this time was none other than Alessia Russo, someone who really just wanted to sleep the entire 8 hour ride and skip your bullshit, obviously that didn’t happen.

“WHO LET KYRA HAVE SNACKS? I’m going to kill you.” Alessia sat to your left, rubbing her temples at the already growing headache, Kyra sat to your right, a sucker in her mouth and three loud crinkly bags of crisps in her lap. You were in the middle seat, a frankly uncomfortable seat seeing as you were the tallest in the entire car, knees bent inwards trying to fit your long legs between the seats.

“Yeah, Viv did you not ban snacks so that this wouldn’t happen?” Beth questions the forward, who meets Kyra’s guilty gaze in the rearview mirror, looking at her sternly. Viv sighs like she knew it would happen before reaching her hand back and asking for Kyra’s snacks. When she begrudgingly hands them over, you look at her with a huge grin on your face.

“Thank you pa, you’re my hero, saving me from the evil supervillain ready to chew in my ear.” Viv gets a little embarrassed and emotional at you calling her pa, the Dutch name for father you had nicknamed her was something you only called her in private.

“Aww Vivi, did you get a bit embarrassed?” Beth teases her girlfriend gently, tugging lightly at her dark red cheek. It was lucky you’d stopped at a red light, otherwise Viv would’ve probably crashed the car.

All of a sudden, when you’re distracted by Beth and Viv interacting, you hear a couple of loud chews of what sounds like at least 6 sticks of gum. The way you recoil is almost instant, throwing your body into Alessia’s open arms, the woman glaring at Kyra for doing that, AGAIN. Alessia liked cuddling you though so it wasn’t all that bad.

She definitely can’t complain when you fall asleep in less than 5 minutes either, though having to give Kyra a stare down as she tried to tickle your sides definitely wasn’t a highlight of her day.

Within 25 minutes of your departure from the training grounds, Kyra was already complaining about needing to pee, only answering with a shrug and a simple ‘I didn’t need to go then’ when asked why she didn’t go at home.

Viv sighs as she stops at the gas station in the middle of nowhere, Alessia waking you up so that you too could go to the toilet.

“Oh for fucks sake Kyra, you don’t need all that candy. I swear I’m more of an adult than you are.” You told the Australian girl as you came into the gas station, moving towards the bathroom. It looked like you could get every STD possible from simply being in there.

When you exited it was with a grossed out expression, that was until you spotted the slushy machines lined up against the wall. You lit up like a child on christmas morning when you spotted it, quickly filling a cup whilst you commanded her to get you a sprite, the cashier taking a quick peek at you bouncing up and down in anticipation of your drink.

After you paid, you instructed Kyra to pour about half the sprite into the slushy cup, letting her taste it after she’d promised on her mothers life not to make any sound.

“That’s delicious, where did you learn to do that?” She questions you, moving to buy her own slushy and sprite.

“I don’t know, I just did it once and it tasted great. Now you better hurry up because I think Viv is going to kill us if we’re not in the car soon.” With that, Kyra hurries up.

You’re both in the car in record time, all the actual adults in the car’s eyes widening at the half full slushy glasses in your hands.

Only a few minutes later, both you and Kyra are in full on sugar rush mode, singing along with the song on the radio loudly, swaying in your seats as you pretend you’re on the big stage somewhere. They’re all pleasantly surprised when you belt out the riff to Keyshia Cole’s Love, it being legitimately good.

As were Alessia’s instagram followers, the girl posting a video of you singing like you’d just had your heart broken, well that was until you were interrupted by Kyra snacking loudly right next to your ear.

“LOOOOOOVE NEVER KNEW WHAT I WAS MISS- KYRA GET THE FUCK OUT MY EAR.” She does look a little sheepish as she does it this time, pretty clearly not even registering that she was chewing with her mouth open.

Though she doesn’t stay sheepish for long, just like you don’t stay mad for long, because ‘I want it that way’ by the backstreet boys suddenly came on the radio, and that was always you and Kyra’s karaoke song.

It only took you a few more songs for the sugar crash to hit, you and Kyra suddenly going from duetting on songs to snoring loudly in the backseat.

Luckily enough for everyone in the car you managed to stay asleep through the whole ride, only waking up a few times to tell Kyra to ‘get the fuck out my ear’.

Literally everyone is confused when you turn up to the camping site, half asleep and clinging to Kyra tightly, Beth soon taking you from the younger girl so that she could start helping to set up the tents.

“They didn’t cause too much trouble, did they? I know how they can be.” Kim comes up to stand beside Beth, who shakes her head diligently.

“No, they slept most of the ride, they were both drinking some slushy and then had a sugar crash after singing for half an hour.” Beth smiles at you tenderly, the motherly affection clearly something she’d picked up from her own mother.

“Aw well that’s good then.” Kim says quietly, noticing you drooling slightly with your eyes half open, looking like those orange cats you always showed her.

———————

“Kyra if you don’t get the fuck out my ear I will kill you.” It wasn’t even her fault that she was sniffly, she’d caught something from Harper at camp and when you asked if you could come over for your sleepover, she didn’t hesitate.

She looked at you sadly, like she was heartbroken by your insensitive words. It makes you sad to see her like that, so you quickly bring her into your arms, asking for forgiveness.

“I’m so sorry Ky Ky, how about I make you some soup yk feel better?” She nodded wholeheartedly at your words, sitting on the counter as you made your famous soup.

And even though you had to keep yourself from being angry at her every single second, you wouldn’t trade being at Kyra’s home cooking for her for anything.

[thatlesbianbarbie]

Our Omega

Pairing: Select Lionesses x reader

Tags: Omegaverse, Sight Kidnapping, Fast burn, Love at first Smell.

Summary: large packs are normal but you never expected to be in a pack with players from the England lionesses. I hate this but I needed to expel my demons.

WordCount: 2.6K

You weren't ever really interested in Fútbol well in the women yes but not so much in the logistics and rules. So one time when your new Alpha coworker Amber offered to bring you to an England lionesses game you were really just interested in seeing pretty girls. Which is how you are here is a sweaty crowded stadium watching England play France. The weather was almost as hot as the players, meaning you were sweating out your eyeballs. But it's worth it for the front row view you are getting. “ Do you think they are going to win?” Amber asks, leaning slightly into your space. You've only worked with her a couple of times and she definitely likes you more than you like her.

She seems to be confident in herself as if everyone owes her something. “They're going to win”.You don't move your eyes off of the pitch. The whole game she has been asking you technical questions you don't know the answer to. She doesn’t understand that just enjoying the view she has to know everything. It is more than a little frustrating.

You by some grace of god manage to zone out for the remainder of the match only nodding and humming as she talks beside you. Once the match is over the wind picks up rather drastically blowing from behind you and across the pitch meaning anyone standing close can smell the sweat on your skin.”You smell good “ Amber whispers her voice deeper than usual. You really should have told her you weren’t interested. “Thanks” you try to gather your bag and wrestle your coat back onto your body. You're so focused on getting everything together so you can get out of this crowded place that you don't notice someone jogging up to the barrier.

”Hey you” A alpha voice growls from below you. You whip around in surprise. Millie Bright is standing on the other side of the barrier pointing directly at you. You point to yourself with a curious look surely she couldn't mean you. “Yes you come here” she curls her finger and it is like some part of your omega brain is triggered as you shuffle to be right against the barrier.  “Smell me” You do a double take because there is no way in hell she is insinuating what you think she is. Mates can recognize each other by scent and she seems to think you are fated. Who are you to deny this beautiful woman's claims? So Of course you lean over the barrier smelling the junction of her neck and should deeply. She smells strongly of bergamot and vanilla; it's almost intoxicating. You pull back slightly dizzying from the overpowering smell. “I knew it was you. Did you come here with anyone.” Millie questions your head still spinning, you only point to Amber. “Who is that?” Her growl is only low enough you can hear it but it is still terrifying. “A coworker, I think she was trying to get me to go out with her.” You mumble leaning in for more of Millie's scent. “That's not happening “You yelp as you are pulled over the barrier. “Hey that's my date you can’t just go off stealing her”Amber shouts but Millie doesn't even offer her a glance back. 

Millie shifts you to rest comfortably on her back. You can’t seem to bring yourself to care about the full stadium of people around you watching or videoing you. “Who is that? '' You recognize Lucy bronze in her accent alone. Her voice is just as intoxicating as Millie's scent. “Smell her” Mllie prompts as Lucy circles around her to get a better look at you.you can't help the giggle that escapes you when she nuzzles her face into your neck. “I am jealous of Your nose mill Never would have smelled her from over here.”Lucy has appreciation clear in her voice. “‘I think I should go home” Your mind starts to clear and suddenly all of this is hitting you really hard. “baby you're going to be alright Mills And I will take great care of you and just wait till Leah Hears about you she will be ecstatic.”Lucy's hand rubs over your back as Millie's purr fills the air around you again pulling you back into a manipulatable state.

When you mind finally returns to you you are in the back of a car tucked into someones lap.”Hello love” Its leah fucking williamson holding tucked to her chest like her favorite teddy bear. “Love you need to calm down or I will start Purring” Leah runs her hand over your back in soft circles. “You are safe we are going to get you home and get you fed. How does that sound.” Leah asks, wiggling her eyebrows for added effect. ”I was thinking Ham sandwiches,” Leah offers with a smile on her face. Now that she says it you are hungry. “She doesn’t want a ham sandwich Lee” You peek up from Leah to see Mary Earps navigate the car through traffic. “She seemed to think a ham Sandwich sounded pretty good, didn't you love it?” She asks softly, nuzzling at you. “A ham sandwich is okay. Whatever is easy, I don't want to be a bother.” You smile at Mary in the rearview. “You're never a bother, love your omega . We will do anything we can to take care of you.” Mary's tone is softer than you've ever heard in any interview ever. “Thank you”

“You don’t have to thank us. Love , we want to take care of you and do nice things for you.'' Leah smiles, pulling you close into her.``Were Here” Mary sings songs pulling into a gravel driveway. “Is that her?” You hear someone call as Mary opens the door and walks around to help Leah out. Mary opens the door and reaches out for you”You can walk if you want but you might still be drowsy and the gravel is sharp if you fall.” Mary explains as you let her lift you out of the car. ”Hi Im Ella that's Less over there with the blonde hair. She is a little nervous” Ella laughs as Less sheepishly jogs to catch up with Mary. “Mary kicks the door open and slips her shoes off. “Less Tooney Why don't you two go get the bags from the car” Mary is more telling then asking and the girls complain but still surender and go back to the car.

“Georgia Go straighten up the nest please” Mary asks the girl resting on the sofa. “It's really her” Georgia’s voice. “You can Gawk over her later go get the nest sorted” Mary ushers her up stairs and sets you down in the spot Georgia vacated. “Stay Here Mills is in the kitchen. I want to make sure she is making you something other than a ham sandwich. “Mary says with a roll of her eyes. She clicks the tv on to a random channel and walks off leaving you alone and questioning everything going on around you. Surely this has to be some kind of weird dream. There is no way Some of the most famous football players in the world are mated to you.

“What are you so stressed about? I can Smell you from all the way across the house” Lucy Collapses into the sofa next to you. “It's just a little Sudden I go from no mates to I don't even know” You run hand through your sweaty hair. “Seven. you have Seven Mates.” Lucy sets her Head down in your lap and you can't help the wave of calmness that overtakes your body simply from having your Alpha This close. “Ten is so many” You groan slouching back into the arm of the sofa. “Ten makes for a healthy pack. You have your alpha prime, that's Mills. Then you Alphas Leah, Mary, and Me. Then Your Delta Rachel You have your betas. Ella Alessia and Georgia.Then you are a beautiful sweet image.`` ''You guys don't even know me” you run a hand through Lucy's impossible soft hair. “Not yet but The girls will remedy that at dinner always a million and one questions.” You can practically hear Luce's eye roll. 

“Dinner is ready” Marys sings songs from what you can assume is the kitchen. “We should get you some food before there isn't any left.” Lucy's stands and pulls you up behind her. You tail after her and she doesn't let go of your hands. The table is set and the room is empty save for Mary. “ Mills wanted to get changed, just sit and I'll get dinner dished out” Mary gestures to the table before retreating back into the kitchen. “Sit here” Lucy pushes you into a chair and pushes you flush with the table not leaving any room for argument. “I'm going to help Mary stay here” Luce presses a kiss to the top of your head before evicting the room. You're barely alone a second before Rachel comes barrelling into the room. “Ahh there you are. Those girls have been hiding you away from me” She slides in “Hey” It feels so surreal to be talking to these women as if they are everyday people and not super famous. “I'm Rachel but you probably knew that considering you were at our game” She has a slight teasing tone to her voice that you find yourself really enjoying. ”how do you feel? I know the girls can be a little too much when they are all together” Her voice has such genuine concern in it that your heart hurts. ”I feel A little overwhelmed. It's just so sudden one moment I am watching a football game and the next minute freaking millie bright is pulling me over the barricade and telling me I am her mate. I just don’t know how we move forward from this.” It feels nice to tell someone about the thoughts that have been racing around your head for the past couple of Hours. ”First we decide if you want to keep your job. Then if you want to move in with us which I think is best but you can do whatever you think is best for now. That's all the decisions that need to be made right now.” Rach sounds like she has done this a time or too before. “And Mating bonds' ' That was the real problem here. You wanted to mate them to have them inside of you with their teeth on your skin but how could you even know what they expect. “If you want to do it today we will or the girls will wait. They might not be ecstatic about it but they will get over it.” Rachels hand finds itself wrapped around the back of your chair, her hand resting on your shoulder. “I think I would like to at least start tonight. I might not want to go all the way through but I want to try. I want to be mated to you guys. All I have ever wanted was to have a pack of my own. ''You let out a shriek as the door bursts open and ella and less fall into a pile on the floor.

“Girls you know how rude it is to eavesdrop.”Rache looks mock aghast as the girls scramble to make themselves presentable. “Who has been eavesdropping” Millie comes in behind less and ella and they at least have the heart to look embarrassed.”  I was trying to have a healthy conversation about the emotions our omega was going through but these two decided to drop in.” Rachel Eplains as millie finds her spot at the head of the table.  “You two know better than to eavesdrop you're on dishes” Mille scolds her alpha voice coming through slightly due to her frustration. “But we were on dishes last night,” Ella complains, sinking into her seat. “And the night before” Less adds with a pout. “Sounds Like you two are in a whole lot of trouble” You can't help the words as they escape your mouth. “How dare you we are the sweetest nicest girls you could ever be graced with the presence of” Ella argues making direct eye contact with you as if daring you to challenge her claim. “You can’t be in here lying to our omega she doesn't know any better yet” Mary enters the room with a large glass pan full of lasagna cradled in her arms. Luce enters behind her a salad and dresses in her arms. “Where did Georgia and Leah run Off too.”Millie questions cutting into the lasagna. “I think they were making sure the nest is clean for her” Luce starts putting salad on people's plates. “I can get my own food Luce” You are trying to pull away your plate. “Do you see any of these girls making their plates?” Luce raises an eyebrow as you look down into your lap. “No” You mumble not bringing yourself to look her in the eyes. “Let Me make your plate for you” Luce prys the plate out of your hand and sets it back on the table in front of you after there is an adequate amount of food on it. Georgia and Leah come running into the room just as all of the plates are dished up. “Georgia, would you mind grabbing the pop?” Georgia rolls her eyes but hurries down the hall in search of the pop. 

Once dinner and all two hundred and one questions are done a bath is a welcome relaxation. Until you realize Georgia is intent on joining you in said bath. “ Just get in, I'll go you in a minute” Georgia leaves before you have the chance to say anything. Leaving you to strip and sink into the seamting bath all by yourself.You almost find yourself falling asleep as the comforting smells of the bath oils georgia used fill your nose. “I have snacks' ' Georgia hurries into the bathroom startling you out for your thoughts. “I have ice cream and pop” Georgia sets the ice cream and a red beverage that must be the pop down next to the bath before stripping off her clothes. “Lean forward so I can Get Behind ya” Georgia barley utters the words before you're moving to comply. She slips into the bath behind you and pulls you to her chest as soon as she is settled. “Here luv” Georgia presses the ice cream into your hands and sets about washing your hair. You would be lying if you said you didn't enjoy it. Plus that ice cream is good cherry Garcia is truly the way to a girl's heart. I mean who could deny such a sweet woman. 

By the time you're done with your bath all you want to do is curl up in your nest well. If they even have a nest I mean what pack wouldn’t have a nest. Georgia wraps you in a fluffy towel and carries you into a bedroom. There is a large circle bed built into the floor while their nest building skills could you word it was habitable at least for the night. “Here Baby” Alessia handed you a shirt and a soft pair of boxers. You change into them and crawl into the net, your body sinking into the plush material. Soon after you lay down the rest join and a blanket is tossed over you. You can't help yourself as you drift off to sleep surrounded by your soon to be mates.

[damiansgoodgirll]

hello, can you write about damian priest x reader where she just got into the main roster on RAW and she felt left out in the women's lockerroom (except becky and liv) and a impossible crush with the archer of infamy but he is the one who ask her out

love this request!

‼️a little angst and rhea’s a little mean, sorry

damian priest x reader

my birdie

you were a shy person.

always been. but when it came to wrestling, you were an animal, everyone knew about your abilities and they loved you for it. that’s why you went from nxt to smackdown and from smackdown to raw in less than two years.

people wanted to see you doing big things and big things came when hunter placed you in a completely different roaster.

you made some friends in nxt, you’ve been there the most so your colleagues got to know you better. it’s not that you were rude, you didn’t like being on your own either but you were shy.

some of your colleagues got to know this side of you and tried to involve you in more activities together, others didn’t care as they all wanted to focus on themselves.

when you spent a few months on smackdown, everyone apart from bayley ignored you. she immediately understood what you were feeling. fear of being alone and starting in a roaster where you didn’t know anybody and the fact that you weren’t talkative at all was making it 100% harder.

you were grateful for bayley and for her patience with you, that’s why you cried to her when you were being shifted on raw.

you wanted to be on raw, you were just scared of how you were going to be treated. it wasn’t easy on smackdown but at least you made a friend.

the first two weeks were hard. bayley was constantly checking on you, making sure you were okay and doing good. she even said to the other girls that you were shy and needed a little time to open up but it felt like they didn’t care.

liv and becky were the only two people who never made you feel unwanted. they took times to introduce you to the rest of the raw squad.

basically, everyone was ignoring you.

shayna tried to get to know you, and in fact she liked your shy and calm persona but she was too focused on her goals to have time to get to know you better. still, you appreciated her efforts. she still spent time eating lunch with you and you were really grateful for that.

but, apart from the three girls, it was clear that you were unwanted. other girls saw you as a threat.

especially rhea. you would describe the meeting with the judgment day “the most scary day of your life”. liv introduced you to them and you felt like an animal in a cage when you felt all of their eyes on you.

dom and finn didn’t really care about you. rhea ignored you but kept watching you. damian, well, damian had the audacity to make some stupid jokes about your shy persona.

“what is a scared birdie like you doing in a place like this?” he joked making everyone but liv laugh “cat really got your tongue birdie? be safe out there, you’re a little bird in a room full of cats ready to eat you alive”

“and the one right here” dom said pointing at rhea “is the scariest cat you’ll ever meet” and with that they all left.

you remember crying that night.

you also knew that becky and liv had a conversation with them because they stopped poking at you. they just watched you from afar. especially damian. who you got a little crush on but could never tell him. you couldn’t really understand why he was constantly watching you. when you were training. when you were on live television. when you were basically doing nothing. he was watching you and his beautiful but firm eyes made you a little scared.

“what is she doing here?” you heard rhea saying to finn, one time you were all training together. she didn’t know you were listening but you were. and her words hurt you “she looks like a lost princess from disneyland” she said making finn laugh.

you excused yourself from training with becky and seth and they immediately knew something was wrong. they took you under their protective wing, training with you and teaching you new moves.

“jeez rhea, was that necessary?” becky said with an angry look on her face.

“what?” she said like nothing happened.

“why do you all hate her so much? what has she ever done to you?” seth said to finn and the rest of the judgment day.

silence.

they had no reason to hate her “like i thought” seth said.

“she’s in the wrong place” rhea said, not making eye contact with becky.

“wrong place? she kicked your ass last week” becky said laughing “just because she’s shy doesn’t mean she isn’t capable, she’s just as smart and strong as you rhea…she just has more difficulty to open up to people…you guys should help her instead of making fun of her, or at least, if you don’t feel that kind to get to know her, ignore her…for her own sake, stop making fun of her” becky said very annoyed before leaving with seth.

that night you kept thinking about rhea’s words. maybe you really were in the wrong place. maybe you didn’t belong with them. maybe you really should be doing something different. and those thoughts made you cry because wrestling was all you ever wanted to do in your entire life.

but before you could overthink again, a soft knock on your hotel room awaked you from your wandering mind.

you weren’t definitely expecting to see damian priest in front of you.

“hey…” he smiled at you.

“you should at least wait until tomorrow to make fun of me” you said, looking at the ground “again…”

damian felt guilty.

he saw how you quickly wiped your tears away. he also knew he fucked up.

he felt guilty because in reality he was in love with you. you caught his attention the moment liv introduced you to them. he was watching every move you made, making sure you were being safe but he didn’t want to let you know what he was feeling.

“i’m here to apologise…”

“sure” you still weren’t looking at him.

“i’m serious y/n…i’m so sorry for how i made you feel, for how me and my team made you feel…” he began apologising and you let him in the room before you could catch other’s attention “we thought it was funny at first but…we clearly weren’t thinking and for that i’m so sorry, we didn’t mean to hurt you” he said truthfully but still you weren’t looking at him.

his eyes had a different effect on you.

“can you please look at me?” he said moving closer to your body “are you scared of me birdie?”

“i’m not scared…” you said raising your eyes.

now you were both looking into each other’s eyes.

“i’m sorry…really, so so sorry for hurting you…” he apologised again.

“it’s okay damian…thank you for your apology, uhm…it’s okay now i guess” you shyly smiled at him.

“and if you’re okay…i would like to get to know you a little bit more…only if you’re okay with that” he said a little awkwardly.

“yes…it’s okay for me”

“perfect” he smiled “what about tomorrow? i’ll take you somewhere nice for lunch, if you’re free of course” he rambled.

“i’m free” you smiled, seeing how funny he was being.

“then i’ll see you tomorrow birdie” he smirked before leaving your room.

“would you ever stop calling me that?” you asked him.

“i don’t think so” he smiled at you closing your hotel door.

you looked at the door for about ten minutes before moving into your bed, smiling like a teen who just got asked out.

now, all you had to do was to get a nice sleep and waiting for tomorrow to come.

[imjustasimpxd]

Something Old, Something New

(Chapter One)

➬ Ken Sato x Fem reader

Summary : At first glance, Ken Sato seemed to have it all. With money, fame, and success surrounding his name, there was nothing he couldn’t get his hands on. They say money can buy happiness. That may be true to an extent, however, can money buy forgiveness? Unfortunately for Ken, no amount of money and influence can turn back time and change the past. No amount of bribery can erase the fact that he had chosen to abandon his wife in favor of pursuing his baseball career. That awful decision he made took place five years ago, when he was just starting out as a professional athlete. But now that he’s matured and had time to reflect on his actions, can he hope for a chance to rekindle his marriage? Or should he accept defeat and live with the consequences of letting the only woman he’s ever truly loved slip away from him?

Word count : around 2,500 words

Warnings : mentions of abandonment and neglect, arrogant Sato, sad reader, mentions of regret, angst

Author’s notes : comments and reblogs are appreciated!! I appreciate all feedback on my writing so that I can know what you guys liked and what you think I should improve on

Disclaimer : this is a work of fiction and should in no way, shape, or form, be taken seriously.

Side Note : This fic, and everything else I’ve written on my blog is mine and only mine. I work very hard on everything I write so do not, under any circumstances, modify, copy, or stela my work.

Ken Sato. Looks, wealth, talent, charisma, and confidence rolled into one good looking package. 

The mere mention of his name was enough to cause an uproar of fanatics screaming and shouting in excitement, as if they were a pack of wolves howling at the moon. 

Though he was mostly known for his impressive baseball career, being named one of the most eligible bachelors in sports didn’t hurt his credibility either. If anything, playing the part of the charming ladies’ man only increased his popularity, especially to any of his adoring fans that were women, which most of them were.

After becoming one the biggest celebrities in both Japan and American sports, there weren’t many people who were ignorant of a household name such as his. Every man wanted to be him, and every woman wanted to be with him. 

To the public eye, Ken Sato seemed to have it all. But looks can be deceiving, can’t they? Especially when it comes to a man who’s spent years hiding his true feelings behind a veil of humor and charisma. 

No one could know how much he was struggling to keep it all together, or the depths of the affliction eating away at his heart. He was Ken Sato after all, and Ken Sato wasn’t weak, he was a legend, and legends never died, they prevailed. So, he must too.

No matter how much the reporters hounded him, using every possible tactic they could think of to pry into his personal life, Kenji never gave them more than a shred of minuscule details. Feeding them like rats, giving them only the bare necessities to satisfy their hunger for a short while before they came crawling back, demanding more. 

He never let them know more than he wanted, more than he felt like sharing, and frankly, there was a plethora of details he didn’t feel like sharing. 

His reputation of perfection probably wouldn’t uphold itself that well if the media knew about all the things he was wrestling with. Between being a newfound parent to a kaiju infant by day and a masked vigilante known as Ultraman by night, Ken didn’t exactly fit the cookie cutter version of “having it all together.” 

And if that wasn’t enough, then the shame he harbored towards a decision he made almost five years ago would definitely topple the pedestal he comfortably built his identity on. 

The press loved gossip, and they’d fight tooth and nail for even the smallest scintilla of drama. Twisting innocent words and blowing frivolous details out of proportions was the job of reporters. So, imagine the headlines they’d make if those reporters found out any real insiders on the life of the world-famous baseball player. 

Imagine the sales they’d make if a journalist ever got ahold of the information about his past, the same past he’s been hiding away from during his time back in Japan.  

He’s thought about calling, maybe writing a letter to express some form of condolences, but what if word got out? What if the press found out about the woman he used to be married to, the same one he abandoned five years ago in order to pursue his baseball career. 

Forget his most recent batting record, a scandalous story such as that would make headlines from both sides of the Pacific Ocean, and then there really would be nowhere else for him to hide from his past, lest he fancied moving somewhere more remote and secluded. 

If that day came, if Ken Sato was exposed for the decisions he made before becoming famous, then his reputation might take some irreparable damage. 

That’s why he was so closed off towards reporters, towards his teammates, towards everyone. 

Never let anyone close to you and they can never betray you. That’s how Ken Sato lives. 

At least, how he did live, before a little reptilian creature crawled into his life, forcing him to realize there were things that mattered more than wealth and fame.

Before taking care of a kaiju infant became the priority in his life, Ken Sato had rooted his worth in the success of his career. So once that career took off, offering him all the success and affluence he could ever want, he began to realize just how little he really had. 

Despite the riches, the popularity, all of it felt meaningless with no one to share it with. He could’ve held a party with hundreds of guests, surrounding himself with countless people all desperate to please him. Nevertheless, none of it would fill the emptiness engulfing his heart; knowing that no one he interacted with would ever see him as more than a means to financial gain and an increase in social status. 

He had a world full of convenience and opportunities at his fingertips, and yet, he never felt more detached from reality. 

His family was complicated, his friends were more like business partners who benefitted from their relations to him, and the one person he had ever felt truly comfortable around probably hated him now, after being dismissed in favor of baseball. 

In the end, even in a room full of dedicated fans, Ken Sato felt alone. 

However, then that little kaiju infant came along, and everything started to get better. Caring for a child, though tiring at first, gave Kenji something to work towards; a purpose that mattered more than advertising for energy drinks or scoring another record breaking hit at home plate. 

Emi finally gave him the one thing he always wanted, the same thing he always pretended not to need: family. 

After that, baseball didn’t seem to matter as much as it used to, unless he was teaching it to Emi. And all the wealth he had acquired over the years didn’t hold the same value as before, unless he was spending it on his adopted daughter. His lifestyle remained the same, but his heart was in a different place, a more peaceful one. 

Winning championships were more rewarding when he had someone to win for, someone to celebrate with afterwards. And now that he’d repaired the relationship between him and his father, things were looking promising for his future. 

But there was still one more roadblock, one last regret preventing him from moving forward completely. 

You. The woman he’d been married to for a whole year, and, regretfully, the same woman who asked for a divorce due to his neglectful and inconsiderate disregard for her. 

He was young and immature back then, foolishly believing the pursuit of his baseball career was more important than maintaining a healthy marriage. He was arrogant, thinking that extravagant gifts and vacations would keep you happy and secure his role as a provider. 

But he was ignorant to think that being married to you meant he no longer had to earn your affection. All the money and gifts in the world couldn’t make up for the fact that he was never home, and that you were never his priority back then. 

Every morning he’d wake up early, well before you, just to attend practice. And every night he’d come home late, just after dinner, claiming he had needed to stay longer than normal to practice more. 

You’d set out a plate for him, but after his baseball career started taking off, he didn’t really have the time for things such as family dinners or game nights; or so he said. 

He’d usually come home and skip dinner, taking a shower or going to sleep instead. You didn’t necessarily blame him for that, it was only natural for him to be tired from practice. But as the days of barely seeing him turned into months, and he started traveling consistently for his games, you started to feel more like a stranger to him than his wife. He was your husband on paper, but, in the confines of your home, you barely knew how to keep a conversation with him anymore. If you were being honest, you didn’t even really know him that well anymore. 

At least, not as much as you used to. Things were different when you first got married, he wasn’t always so arrogant and inconsiderate. Instead, he was passionate and playful, always knowing how to make you laugh after crying. Even on your first date, he was romantic and charming, making you blush to yourself every time a compliment slipped past his lips. 

But I guess the honeymoon phase people always warn you about before marriage was real; at least, it was for you and Kenji. 

Once his baseball career started taking off, the fame must’ve gotten to his head, and he forgot about the one woman who had been supporting him from the sidelines all along. You had gone to every game, recorded all his winning homeruns, supported his career even though it meant holding off on pursuing yours. And yet, he repaid you with neglect, with a one-sided marriage.

You held on for a while, convinced that he would come around, that his behavior would change and he would reflect on his actions. But after the one-year anniversary of your marriage arrived and he wasn’t even in town to celebrate with you, that’s when you made your decision. You were done being a second choice. 

You got in contact with a lawyer, gathered divorce papers and waited with bated breath till he got home from his trip. And the moment he walked in the door, you practically shoved the papers in his face, all the emotions you’d kept bottled up for so long suddenly coming out in a volcanic eruption of shouting and sobbing. 

And surprisingly enough, he stayed quiet through the majority of it, just watching with a hollow stare as you unleashed all the frustration you’d been harboring towards him. And without a word, he took the papers from you and fished out a pen from his desk drawer, signing them in silence. 

Maybe he had realized from your onslaught of emotions that you were better off without him, that he was clearly causing you pain, and you’d be happier once he set you free of him. Or maybe he really was just that heartless and figured now was the perfect opportunity to get rid of you. Either way, your stomach seemed to twist into a knot at the way he so casually signed those divorce papers and handed them back to you. 

This was what you had wanted, wasn’t it? You’re the one who had gathered the papers in the first place, you should’ve been happy that he was finally ending it, finally setting you free. And yet, you felt yourself holding back tears at his lack of emotion. He didn’t try to argue, he didn’t plead with you to give him another chance like you had expected him too. He just admitted defeat, giving up on trying to fix your marriage and taking off for Japan two days later. 

He left, leaving you back in America while he returned to his home country to continue baseball there; abandoning his American team in the middle of their journey to the championships. 

He had given you an opportunity to move on, to become the person he always prevented you from being, and so you took it.

You cut all forms of communication, threw out everything of his that he didn’t take when he left, and moved into your own apartment. It was a fresh start, a clean slate, and you finally had the chance to chase after your dream career, just like he had been doing.  

So, you did, and you didn’t give up. You refused to, you owed this to yourself, and you weren’t going to waste any more time pouring effort into someone who didn’t appreciate it. 

So, you worked, tirelessly, anxiously, until the day came when your newest novel finally become a bestseller all around the nation, and you were officially titled a successful author. 

Now it was your turn, to stand in front of a crowd of adoring fans, to sign autographs and attend fan events. It almost reminded you of your ex-husband, how people used to scream his name and cheer for his success. But now they were cheering for you, supporting you like he hadn’t. You almost laughed at the irony of it all. Five years ago, you would’ve never imagined the life you’d made for yourself now, celebrating your fourth bestselling novel in a row and becoming a well-known author like you always dreamed of. 

And yet, looking back, none of this would’ve been possible had you not been set free from the restraints your marriage to Ken Sato had bound you to. Without him and the neglect he subjected you to, you wouldn’t have worked as hard as you did. So really, in a way, you had him to thank for how far you’ve come and all the success you’ve accomplished. Because if he never signed those papers five years ago, you would still be tied down to a one-sided marriage. 

But you weren’t, and thank God for that.

Now you had moved on, and so had he. 

Or so you thought. 

Little did you know, Ken Sato was on a mission, and not as Ultraman this time. After undergoing the change and maturity necessary to become a parent to a kaiju infant, Kenji realized he needed to make things right between the two of you. Even if it had been five years since he last saw you. 

He wasn’t looking to ask you to take him back and rekindle your marriage, though he wouldn’t have minded if that ended up happening. Instead, he simply wanted to apologize for his actions, for being such a crappy husband back then. He had reflected a lot on the subject of your marriage over the past couple years, but, he never reached out in fear of your reaction to seeing him again. 

Although, after avoiding it for long enough, and getting a lecture about taking responsibility from his dad, he finally decided to go through with it and booked a flight back to America. 

He was nervous to say the least, but he knew he couldn’t back out. Even if you screamed and yelled at him, he had to take accountability for his past actions and apologize for the pain he’d caused you, for pushing you to the back burner while he allowed baseball to take priority in his life. 

He’d made peace with himself and his father already, thanks to the help of his adoptive daughter. So now it was time to make peace with you. And as he watched the plane lift off the ground from his window seat, he held his breath, wondering how you would react to seeing him again after so many years. 

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[celestica-1988]

Some other Tokyo Revengers characters headcanon. There will be SPOILERS.

When Mikey left the Sano household he brought with him his towel and some pics of the people he lost. Almost every night when he's curled up in his towel ready to sleep he watches the pics and cries. Yes, even when he's in bonten.

Draken biggest regret is not confessing his feelings to Emma. So when he gets up and goes to bed he always says "I love you" to her pic on the wall.

Baji is so scared of his mother tears because when she cries she turns in a really strong opponent. She's the female version of the blue ogre.

Chifuyu thought that his mother hated Peke J till one day when he got home from school and found the two sleeping together snuggling.

Takemichi finds some notes of his past self in which he's confused about being friends with people he doesn't even remember he knew and lately being involved in a gang. Past Takemichi is afraid he's going insane so our Takemichi writes te a note in which he explains everything. Not surprisingly past Takemichi is even more confused and thinks he need a therapist.

Kazutora is proud of his tattoo. He just wish people in Japan wouldn't be so scared of tattoos because sometimes is tired of hide it with turtlenecks.

Takuya likes to watch wrestling.

Yamagishi dream is that his delinquent encyclopedia would be published one day.

Akkun dies his hair red by himself as a training to be an hairdresser.

Mitsuya is very good at karaoke, he likes to sing rock songs.

Hakkai is the first and more hardcore shipper of Mitsuya x Yuzuha. He really wants Taka-chan to be a part of his family.

Sometimes Taiju babysits Mana and Luna. One time they asked him to watch IT (the 90s version) with them since Takanii forbid them to watch such a scary horror movie, Taiju accepted but not much longer the movie started Mana and Luna started to cry and Taiju did his best to comfort them (he said he would punch any clowns that goes close to them or something similar). In the end the little ones fell asleep in his arms and Taiju had to live for a week with the Mitsuya because Mana and Luna felt safe only near to him. Needless to say an angry Mitsuya scolded Taiju.

When Pahchin gets released all the Toman members throw a party for him. He was sad Mikey was not there though.

When Yasuda confessed to Pehyan he malfunctioned and froze for a solid 15 minutes.

Angry thought for a while that he would be a nurse when he will be an adult. He changes his mind after seeing Nahoya smiling with his eyes wide in delight while eating the ramen that he prepared. Since then Angry wants to be a ramen chef.

Smiley once stole Angry favorite stuffed animal, Souya got so upset that accidentally unleashed the blue ogree. Since then Nahoya always politely asks to Souya if he can borrow one of his plushies.

Mucho goes to punk rock concerts, one time he brought Sanzu with him, but it wasn't a good idea. Sanzu beated almost all the people in the venue.

Sanzu ends up regretting killing Mucho, he misses the older brother he was for him. Especially when he feels lonely and he realizes he has got nobody to talk to.

When Kisaki reaches the afterlife Baji punches him in the face so hard that for a moment he was sure he would come back in the world of the livings.

Hanma likes to play shooting games at the arcade, but when he loses he usually punches the machine.

Kokonoi lives in a traditional house when he's in bonten. There are a lot of candles, lanterns and things that make it a cozy place. Only Miley is admitted in his house and only for urgent matters. The house is his sanctuary to find inner peace after dealing with his crazy coworkers.

Inui likes goth girls more because they understand and appreciate his hobbies.

When Izana listens to Queen the whole neighborhood listens to Queen.

Kakucho learned to cook from Mochi.

Mochi hates creeps who harass women and always beat them down to a pulp. Harassing a woman is not an honorable behavior for a man!

Shion always fails tests of courage since when he was a kid. He believes in ghosts and he's afraid of them.

Rindou panicked when Ran slept for a whole day, he thought he was dead or in a coma. That's when he realized how important Ran is to him. When Ran woke up he cried for joy and ran to buy a mont blanc for his brother.

Ran cut his hair because he was tired of Sanzu calling him Wednesday or Annabelle.

Never insult someone because they are not fully Japanese in front of South, he will punch the living shit out of you. Since he's also a mixed race person he hates when people are bullied for that reason.

Wakasa saved a stray cat once and let the kitten live with him. Now when he doesn't wanna hang out with Takeomi he said he's busy... Busy cuddling his cat that he treasures so much because it help him avoid unnecessary social situations. And because... Who doesn't love a cat?

Benkei likes to built copies of castles in miniature. It relaxes him cause it takes great concentration and ability to do that in the right way.

Takeomi gossips like an old lady with his coworkers (may God help them)

Shinichiro cried the first time he watched Titanic, it's one of his favorite movies.

Yuzuha meets with Emma and Senju every month to talk about how hard it is dealing with problematic brothers.

Hinata is a fan of Avril Lavigne and sometimes she dreams of touring around the world playing the songs she wrote. Unluckily she can't sing but she has got some alternative fashion clothes.

Emma talks and sleeps with the plushie Draken gave to her. She calls him Kenken.

Senju goes often to Harajuku to take inspiration for her outfits.

[fairysluna]

little wolf.

Cregan's little sister is the only one who can change his mind, which is why Aemond decides to use his charms and convince her to support the Green using some peculiar methods.

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Stark!Reader

Tags/TW: smut (p in v, loss of virginity, f!oral sex, praise, breeding, kinda innocent!kink), teasing, a bit of mean!aemond, slight dubcon, cregan being an overprotective brother, cursing. if something is missing let me know!!

Author's Note: mimor @tvrgvryen sent me this request a few days ago and I had to do it bc i loved it so much. So here it is!

Word Count: 4.9k

Aemond has always been a good observer. He has always noticed the small details, the reason why people acted as they did, the way people treated others. That's why it wasn't hard for him to realize how important you were for your beloved brother Cregan. 

The day he first stepped into Winterfell after Vhagar gracefully landed on the snow, he saw how brave Cregan was for stepping between you and the enormous beast. However, that mere gesture exposed the big affection he had for you; his only sister, and with that, Aemond knew what was Lord Stark's greatest weakness… you. 

He went to the North with a mission, a task to fulfill, and he was not a man that was known to give up on things. Aemond was resilient, determined. He would not accept a negative answer from the Warden of the North, and even though he knew about the oath and how Starks are famously known for being loyal to their words; he was eager to find his way to gain the North's support. 

And his opportunity came up with you; the sweet, kind Lady Stark. Beloved by all, you were also known as the Heart of Winterfell, for it was said that even the small folk held dear for you. Everything that Aemond heard about you were nothing but good words, showing how much people appreciated you, which only impulsed Aemond's bad intentions. 

It is true, a Stark never forgets an oath, but the North gathers when the wolf howls… and even though your brother was the visible face of your House, everyone knew that it was you the one that had true power over the masses; your gentleness made you the Queen of the North, and that information was enough for Aemond to start his devious schemes. 

It all started at the training yard. The snow had fallen earlier in the morning, covering the ground with a thick layer of snow. He was staring at you as you struggled with a bow and arrow, not being able to hit the bullseye. This would only make you groan with impatience, despair even. Aemond pressed his lips and looked down at his shoes, trying to show himself amused by you wrestling. 

"You're too tense, my lady," he said as he slowly walked towards you. 

His black fur coat covering his slim shape, his white hair perfectly still despite the crazy wind, his hands at the back of his body. He looked so effortlessly elegant, it almost made you blush. 

"My prince," you greeted him, bowing swiftly, "I'm sorry you have to watch this terrible attempt."

"I didn't know women were allowed to train here in the North," he spoke, politely as he stretched his arm to touch the fine wood of the bow you were holding. 

"We're not," you replied, "but my brother insists I should be prepared to defend myself, so he forces me to train either way."

"Mhm…" he nodded, "your brother is a clever man. A beauty like yours is the target of many deprived men, he's doing well by letting you learn how to protect yourself."

"But he barely has time to teach me," you complained, placing your arms in position to shoot again, "now he's in a meeting with the Mormonts, and I am here," you let the arrow go, but it didn't even hit the target. "...failing miserably."

Aemond chuckled, and you inevitably blushed at the low sound that came out of him. You stared at him from your peripheral view, analyzing his undeniable beauty and flirtatious smirk which made your heart beat a little too fast. 

"You're too tense," he repeated, as he shifted his position until he was behind you. 

His hands went to your shoulders, and he squeezed them softly giving you a soft and short massage that made you close your eyes. Soon, one of his hands reached yours, the one that was holding the bow's grip. He wrapped it around yours, and you immediately felt his warmth on your cold skin. It made you gasp silently. 

"You see, I'm not so good at using a bow, I think my weapon of choice is the sword," he whispered, getting closer to your ear, his breath smacking against your shivering skin, "but I know things… and I can teach you if you please, my lady."

His nose rubbed against your hair, and your delicious smell almost made him groan. Soon, the prince helped you to fix your position as your breathing was getting heavier and an unknown feeling was installed in your lower belly. You feel the heat even though it was freezing cold, you felt his body pressing against yours leaving a sensation of distress, as if your body was begging you for something. 

You feared of someone seeing you; the position was quite compromising, and you were certain your reputation would be stained if someone witnessed such a scandalous scene. It felt too intimate for you, perhaps not so proper for a maiden like you. You would have tried to push him away, but there was something within him that did not allow you to do so; it was as if he had bewitched you with his charms, and you were under a spell from which you were not able to wake up. 

"It's simple, my lady," he explained, "you must relax, you must let go," his voice so deep and low against your ear, "come on, no one's watching, you're under no pressure…" 

His touch, so delicate and gentle, mixed with his words, which you quickly misinterpreted; 'no one's watching', it sounded more like an invitation rather than words of comfort. You couldn't help but to sigh, a gesture that brought a slight smirk upon Aemond's face. 

"Let yourself go, Lady Stark," his voice turned more breathy, rapier. "That's it, so good… now, eyes on the target, don't take your eyes off of it, okay?" 

You simply nodded, wildly blushing at his praise. There was a subtle shiver that went to your trembling hands, you cleared your throat trying to play it down. 

"Take deep breaths, don't close your eyes," his hands left yours, now going to your abdomen, his nose brushing against your ear as he kept whispering, "good, good girl."

Your teeth captured your lower lip as you held back a whimper. Squirming in your place, you felt weak on the knees as his hands left a squeeze on your hips. 

"Now… shoot."

You listened, and your hand let go of the string. Your eyes widened with surprise as the arrow hit close to the bullseye, which was certainly not perfect, but it was an improvement. A smile appeared in your face as you tilted your head to appreciate your achievement, and soon a giggle escaped you. 

"Oh, Gods…" you sighed, "I did it."

"You did it," Aemond said, "you did so well."

His words made your face turn to face him, and his lips were just a few inches away from yours. Your breath hitched, as your heart pounded with so much strength that you thought he would be able to hear it… even feel it. His hand traveled upwards your body until it reached the nape of your neck. 

For a moment you thought he would kiss you, that his soft-looking lips would dare to touch yours. But suddenly, he pulled away. Few seconds later, footsteps were heard dragging the snow beneath their feet, and soon you found out the reason behind his abrupt reaction. 

"Sister!" you heard. The deep and roaring voice of your brother woke you up from your trance, and you turned around to face him. 

You saw a frown upon his face as his eyes narrowed. For a moment you thought he saw how close you were with Aemond, but soon his own words proved you wrong. 

"Septa has been waiting for you for an hour!" he scolded you, "why are you still here?" 

It took you a while to speak, you knew your voice would come out weak and thin if you dared to utter a word in that moment, which not only would make Cregan be suspicious of what happened, but also would embarrass you in front of the charming prince. 

Luckily for you, Aemond decided to step in. 

"I was helping her train, my lord, I'm sorry for the disruption I might have caused," you looked down at the steps Aemond had left in the snow, right beside yours. 

You were quick and subtle once you purposely stepped on them to erase them. Aemond noticed and he couldn't help but smirk. 

"Well, stop your training and go," he demanded, "you might continue tomorrow."

You had no choice but to obey. One last glance was given to Aemond as you bowed to him, saying goodbye. Cregan followed your frame as you entered the castle, and then he turned to look at the prince. Aemond was no fool, he knew Cregan was not ignorant of his intention… he was a man after all, he could see through his facade with no big effort. 

However, he did not say anything about it. He just nodded, and then he left leaving Aemond standing alone with the burning desire running down his body. 

At first, he planned on just seducing you… but now? Now he will have you. He needed to have you. 

That same day, quite late at night, you were found in your chambers, laying on your belly on top of the fur carpet right in front of the warmth of the fireplace. A book was between your hands as your eyes followed the traces of the poetic words that were written in it. The sound of the fire crackling and burning the wood was the only thing you were able to hear until three soft knocks interrupted the quiet calmness of the night. 

You barely looked up as you muttered a soft 'come in', turning the page to continue with your reading. The door was opened in a subtle movement that you barely noticed, and soon you heard steps getting close to you. 

It wasn't until you were able to see the shoes of that person that you decided to look up, only to find Aemond's grin staring back at you. You immediately sat up, crossing your legs and trying to cover your breasts with the book; the fabric of your nightgown was thin, and you knew that your skin could usually be seen through it if he dared to squint to take a look. 

Your body hasn't forgotten about his touch and closeness, and in a certain way it was actually craving for more of that. But you knew it was not proper, you've heard whispers around the castle claiming that he was actually betrothed to one of Lord Baratheon's daughters, meaning he already belonged to someone else. 

And yet, you couldn't help but to feel the eagerness to touch him. 

"My Prince," you said, the shock of seeing him there, sitting on the carpet right beside you was shown in your voice, "what- what are you doing here?" 

"I found myself alone and bored in my chambers, so I decided to wander around the castle and the path brought me here… to you," he smiled kindly as he said those last two words. Words that made your heart beat faster and your cheeks turn red, "were you reading?" He asked, pointing at the book that was covering your pebbled nipples.

"Uh… yes," you nodded, shyly, "it's a book about poetry."

"Poetry?" He asked, raising his eyebrows, "Mind if I have a look, little wolf?" 

You couldn't help but to wildly blush with the pet name, feeling butterflies inside your belly as you pulled the book out of your chest and left it in his hands. Aemond's eyes inevitably went to see your soft breasts covered by a thin white layer of silky fabric, breathing deep and harsh as he felt his cock twitch inside his pants once he managed to see your nipples through it. 

He remained calm, even when the only thing he wanted was to rip that gown out of your body and take you right there. Instead, he just sighed as his fingers elegantly turned the pages, reading some extract of the love poems in the book. 

"I see you're a romantic person, my Lady," he commented, without taking his eyes off of the pages, "do you consider yourself a fan of the genre?" 

"It's something that I enjoy reading, yes," you nodded. 

"I had the impression," he confessed, closing the book and leaving it aside, "have you ever been in love?" 

You shook your head, "I don't- I don't think so."

"Mhm…" he sighed, "that’s odd, you're a gorgeous lady, one might have thought you had a lot of suitors waiting for you."

"You're too kind," you said, looking retrained for a few seconds. 

"I'm just stating the facts, little wolf," he spoke softly, "It seems like your brother likes to scare them away."

"Them?" You asked confused. 

"Your suitors," he clarified, "that's the only reasonable explanation of why you are not married yet."

"He just wants the best for me," you defended him. 

"And what would that be?"

"A husband who not only sees me as a womb with legs, but also as something precious, something worthy of love and care," your dreamy voice made Aemond smirk, the naiveness in you amused him in so many ways.

"You're asking for too much in a society like this, don't you think?" 

You shrugged, "a girl can only dream."

The prince nodded, "and a man can only fulfill those dreams, am I right?" You remained silent, avoiding his heavy and penetrative stare at all cost, "have you ever been this close to a man before?" 

"No…" 

"I could tell," he chuckled, a sound that buzzed into your ears and made your mind go fuzzy, "you were quite nervous when I helped you with your bow this morning."

"I don't feel very comfortable with the proximity of men…" you confessed.

"Of all men, or just of me?" 

That's when you realized where this was going, and the panic quickly installed in your gut as you swallowed hard. It took you some time, but you finally noticed his true intentions. You knew you had to stop him before things went further. 

"My prince, I'm not quite sure what you mean by those words," you started to stand up, tumbling in your knees, "but it's late and it wouldn't be proper for you to be seen in my chambers, so please-" 

Your words were interrupted by the sudden action of Aemond, who pulled you closer until you stranded him, your legs at each side of his body as he forced you to sit on his lap, his hands pressed in your hips firmly, not allowing you to escape from his strong grip. 

"I think you know what I mean, my lady…" he whispered, leaning closer to your ear only to mutter with his seductive and raspy voice, "I think you can feel it."

Your breath hitched in your throat at the same time you tried to speak, "I- I don't know…" 

"Tell me what you felt when I touched you this morning," he commanded, his hands lowering to your thighs, starting to lift the thin fabric of your gown, "was it similar to what you're feeling right now?" 

"I… I don't-" 

"I sensed your nervousness when I said how good of a girl you are," he chuckled, starting to breathe in your neck, smelling your sweet scent, "does that arouse you, little wolf? Being praised?" 

"Prince Aemond, this is not proper, please-" you tried to pull away, but his grip pushed you down once again. Now you were able to feel his hard-on pressing right down your core, which sent you a sensation that caused chills down your spine. 

"That's not what I'm asking you," he spoke sternly, massaging your thighs, squeezing them every now and then, "Mhm… my sweet little wolf, you're shaking. Are you nervous now? You don't have to be, I won't hurt you."

"I told you I do not enjoy this," you breathed out, feeling his hands reaching your hips underneath your gown. 

"So you're telling me that if I dare to touch between your legs… I would not find your cunt drenching for me?" 

His words made you squirm, the blush running to your cheeks as his thumb started to caress your mons pubis. Your body tensed as you widened your eyes, feeling his finger pressing down. 

“I- I don’t- my Prince, please stop-” a small moan interrupted your words as he found your clit between your folds. His thumb rubbing it slowly as you closed your eyes; embarrassed that he was touching such a private part of your body. 

“Have you ever been kissed, my lady?” He asked, trying to hold back a groan as he felt your slick coating his digit, “Has someone been lucky enough to be the first to claim your beautiful lips?”

You shook your head, Aemond hummed with delight.

“Then I guess I’ll be the first…” 

You barely were able to process his words when he pressed his soft lips against yours. Slow movements that were easy for you to follow without much struggle as you held back whimpers of pleasure, for his thumb was still torturing your pearl in a slow and gentle manner. 

Your hand fell on his chest, not with the intention of pushing him away. You grasp his thin blouse, catching the fabric between your trembling hands as you felt the tip of his tongue starting to tease your lips. Hesitantly, your lips parted just a few inches, enough to give him space for him to claim your mouth; swirling his tongue against yours as you tried to keep up with his slow and tempting actions. 

He was able to taste your inexperience, the way you would doubt your movements before actually doing them was enough proof for him to know that you were not lying; he was the first man to kiss, which now made him more eager to also become the first man to fuck you. 

A gasp escaped your swollen lips when, in a sudden movement, he laid your body in the soft carpet, spreading your legs and placing himself between them. Your nightgown was wrinkled around your hips, exposing your glistening folds to him as he kept playing with your now sensitive clit. Soft mewls were heard as he stopped kissing you in order to taste your skin. You felt the wet caresses of his lips in your neck, your jaw, your collarbones, all while your hands were grasping the fur of the carpet beneath you. 

His fingers were soon covered in your juices, your hips trying to move against them in an attempt to feel more, but he pulled them away and you widened your eyes once you saw him licking them and humming after he felt your sweet taste against his tongue. Your breath was caught in your throat as you heard him groan. 

"My lady, you taste as sweet as you are," he spoke slowly, you blinked a couple times still feeling your mind fuzzy, "do you want a taste?" 

You gulped, not entirely sure of what to reply. The words were unable to come out, so all you could was nod. 

A careless smile appeared on his face as he left a soft kiss on your cheek, before you realized your legs were on his shoulders and his face buried in your drenching cunt as you tried to squirm away from the overwhelming pleasure his tongue was providing you. 

His slurping was heard, echoing in the room as you tried to push his head away from your pussy, breathing fast and unsteady as he devoured you. You felt his tongue teasing your needy hole as his nose rubbed against your clit, making you moan a bit too loudly. His hands were grabbing your hips tightly, just to make sure you don't escape from him; his fingertips burying in your soft skin as your body writhe under his skilful mouth. 

You could feel your own slick slipping down your thigh along with his spit. It was messy, far from being as slow and calm as the kiss he gave you before. He was eager to make you cum; licking, sucking, and fucking your cunt until you were nothing but a moaning mess. 

It was over before you even noticed it. With a loud gasp, your eyes rolling and your thighs pressing at each side of Aemond's head, you reached your first orgasm, which finished with you gulping and hiccuping with pleasure. You heard him moaning against your soaking folds, collecting all your slick to then lean over your body. 

He took a look at your face, your lips quivering as your cheeks were burning and tinted with a furious red. His fingers reached your chin, and made you open your mouth, which you did without hesitation. His spit fell in your tongue before your glistening eyes closed as you whimpered. You were able to taste yourself in it, the sweetness of your release coating your tongue. 

"Swallow it," he commanded, and you quickly obeyed him, "good girl…" he let out a chuckle, and you couldn’t help but to feel an unknown heat running down your body. "See? I told you you were sweet, doesn't it taste good?"

You nodded, sighing. 

"So good, so delicious…" he leaned to kiss you again as his hands pulled down your gown, freeing your breasts, "I swear it, my lady, I will not rest until your cunt is mine forever."

His big hands left a soft squeeze on your tits before they went to his pants, untying the lace and pulling them down. His leaking cock was now on your sight, hard and reddish. You barely noticed he took off his shirt as you were too hypnotized seeing that specific part of his body. Aemond immediately noticed your curious eyes, and he teasingly grabbed his cock in his hand only to stroke it a few times before letting it on top of your clit. 

"Do you want it, my lady?" He whispered, starting to rub himself on you.

You whined, looking down at the obscene scene of his cock parting your puffy lips. 

"Do you want my cock to make you feel good?" He groaned, feeling your slick coating his shaft, "I will give it to you if you ask me… Tell me what you want."

You gulped, trying to pronounce pleas. 

"Aemond… I- I want…" 

"Tell me, my beautiful lady," he muttered, "tell me what you desire."

"I want you… please… it's hurting, I-" 

The head of his cock reached your hole and he slowly started to sink in you. Your eyes widened as a soft cry escaped your throat. Your legs closed as you brought them against your chest, and Aemond groaned in disapproval. 

"Come on, darling… keep your legs open for me," he cooed, "I want to see your pretty pussy taking my cock."

He held the back of your knees, keeping your legs folded but spread. His cock was buried in your tight cunt as tears of pain started to fall down your cheeks. A loud cry was heard, louder than all of the others, and Aemond was quick to put his hand on top of your mouth. 

"Sh, sh…" he whispered, "It's okay, it'll pass. Just relax, my lady, it will feel so good."

He spreaded you open with one push, your back arched as you struggled to take him. He stayed still for a few seconds before his own lust decided that he could not wait any longer. Your walls were squeezing him deliciously as he started to pound against you, groaning and moaning as the pleasure was taking the best of him. 

Grasping on the fur beneath you, you started to sob. Aemond saw the signs of pain in your face and he quickly leaned over you in order to take one of your pebbled nipples into his mouth. The feeling that brought you was indescribable, and soon the pain became bearable as his thrusts remained slow but became harder. 

Aemond would choke his moans against your tit as his tongue skilfully swirling around it, licking and sucking as he kept fucking you, each thrust going deeper and deeper. 

"Fuck…" he sighed, "your pussy is so fucking tight. Made by the Gods just for me."

His words made you drool as the warmth of the fireplace was starting to affect you, making you sweat. His hand left your mouth, now going to play with your swollen and needy clit. 

"This little cunt belongs to me now, doesn't it?" he purred against your ear. 

"A-Aemond..."

He hummed, "how sweet you sound when you moan my name like that."

"P-please…" 

"What is it, my lady?" he teased you, "do you want to cum? Do you want to make a mess on my cock?" 

"Y-yes…" you managed to say, choking with your words as he thrusted harder, "Oh, Gods! Yes…"

"That's it, sweet girl…" he praised you, "taking me so well, so good. I'm gonna fill you up, leave you leaking with my cum. Is that what you want?" 

"G-Gods… yes, p-please!" you whined. 

"Then I guess I have no other choice but to give you what you want…" 

A soft chuckle left him as his thrusts became faster. His hips smacking against yours as he gripped your arsecheeks to gain stability. The sound of your slick drenching around his cock echoed in the room as you started to cry out, sobbing with pleasure and begging for more. 

Aemond looked at your cunt, and a soft and subtle whine was heard as he saw the way his cock disappeared between your folds. Your pleas would only make him desperate, eager to reach his climax and seeing your abused hole leaking his pearly seed. The image alone was enough to make his cock twitch inside you. 

"Fuck, so good… so fucking good," he lifted your hips, pounding restlessly against you as he leaned his head back, closing his eyes as his breathing turned unsteady, "such a perfect pussy, squeezing me so fucking good." 

You clenched around him, and that was what sent him over the edge, spilling his big loads of cum inside of you at the same time that your release exploded. Your cries were heard even in the hallway, as the intensity of your orgasm took over your shaky body. The feeling of him stuffing you with his seed sent you a shiver down your spine that made you twitch your hips. 

Aemond leaned over you to kiss you, pounding lazily as he was coming down from his orgasm. You receive the sloppy kiss as your eyes were closing by themselves, too worn out to keep them open. 

But then, Aemond decided to speak. 

"Look at you, sweet girl…" he said with an odd tone that you haven't heard from him until now, "what would your big brother say if he saw you now, huh? Filled with my seed, a mess under my touch."

Your breathing stopped for a second and only then you realized what you did. You opened your eyes only to find a smirk on his face, and your heart dropped. 

"You probably will be swollen with my bastard in a few months… then what would the people think of you? The Heart of the North carrying the Prince's bastard child…" 

"N-no…" you muttered, starting to softly push his chest. 

"Mhm, yes…" he scoffed, "unless I take you as my bride, of course."

A shaky breath came out of your nose as tears of despair fell down your cheeks, your bottom lip quivered as your gleaming eyes looked at his. 

"W-would you… would you take me as your wife?" 

Aemond smirked, starting to pull out of you. He hummed delighted with the view as he saw the pearly drops leaking out of you. He sighed, putting his pants on and fixing his clothes. 

"If your brother decides to join his forces with ours, I will take you as my bride and no one will know this happened before our marriage…" he said, standing up and looking down at you. "But, if he decides to join my sister's army…" 

He doesn't even need to finish the sentence for you to know the consequences of that. The panic ran down your body as you sat in the carp carpet, covering your nudity with your nightgown and crying. 

"How- how am I supposed to-?" 

"Cregan Stark will do anything his little sister commands," he interrupts you, taking a few steps towards you to gently grab your jaw in his hand, forcing you to look at him, "so you better choose the right option, my lady."

He left a caress in your cheek with a smug smile on his face. He abandoned your chambers, letting you there feeling helpless and a bit scared. 

It wasn't a big surprise for him when a few days later Lord Stark gave him the good news… and Aemond fulfilled his words, marrying you a month after the North joined the war and helped King Aegon II win the final battle against Rhaenyra. 

What was a surprise, was the birth of your first child, a month earlier than what the Maesters expected.

[astromechs]

ok, i did barbenheimer, so here are some assorted thoughts about both films (i am discussing potential "spoilers" for both, so look away if you don't want these):

on paper, and in experience, this is the wildest double feature to do. barbie and oppenheimer could not be two more different films, in terms of tone, aesthetic, and themes; on the one hand, you have a treatise on feminism in the guise of one of the most widely known decades-old ip, and on the other, you have a complicated biopic about the complicated figure who developed the atomic bomb.

and yet, there is a heart and soul linking these two films, and i actually think seeing them in the double feature makes them work: it's care and craftsmanship. these are two films made by people who actually care about cinema as an artform, and it's such a breath of fresh air compared to a lot of the dreck we've been getting out of major studios and wide releases, especially over the past decade.

barbie is not an independent film; you guys are silly, and you need to get that out of your heads. mattell's name is literally on it lol BUT. what this story turns out to be is something pretty unique in terms of today's cinematic landscape. it's a thoughtful treatise on feminism and gender roles on all sides of the equation — the unrealistic expectations put on women, the emptiness that drives men into upholding patriarchy, the absolute absurdity it is on all counts to let ourselves be consumed by this instead of getting to be ourselves and figure out who we actually are. loved every second of it.

also: "i lost interest in patriarchy when i learned it wasn't about horses", like, line of the year.

oppenheimer manages to distinguish itself from the sludge of oscar bait biopics, because, well, because of the craftsmanship of christopher nolan, but also because, in particular, it has such strong thematic focus. it is both a story about oppenheimer, the complicated figure who unleashed something terrible on the world, and the story of the plight of the scientist; just because you can do something, does it mean you should? when you put a dangerous tool into someone else's hands, is it their hands who have the responsibility for how it's used, or is it you, for creating it in the first place?

these are questions that i think the film wrestles with very adeptly, and it doesn't provide easy answers — because there are none. oppenheimer himself spent the remainder of his life wrestling with his own complicated legacy, and the film really captures the spirit of that. the final shot really makes that stick.

both of these films had clear vision for what they wanted to say, clear care and craftsmanship involved, and as someone who genuinely loves cinema and has felt so disheartened seeing shit upon shit being flung into theaters in wide release, i deeply appreciate both of these films, and i don't regret the experience of doing the double feature, because it was really something special — even if, whew, i'm going to need about five business days to process all of this.

[edmcmayonnaise]

Months ago, I wrote "biographies" for Edwin and Simon in the style of the Edwardian (Third Edition published in 1915) study on "Sexual Inversion" (medical phrasing that pre-dates the term "homosexuality") in the style of Studies in the Psychology of Sex by Havelock Ellis. This book can be found for free online and is a treasure trove due to the collection of biographies written by queer people.

Maybe against my better judgment, I will share them now for Simon Appreciation Week, as they capture to some extent how I perceive their interpersonal dynamics.

HISTORY E.P. - English, student at public boarding school, aged 16. His father, who comes from an unremarkable middle class lineage, is a physician. His father has been deployed to France since 1914 for wartime service. His mother’s family has a history notable for hysteria in his maternal grandmother, and his mother he describes as a high-strung and nervous woman who herself has been intermittently institutionalized for afflictions of mood. 

He has no siblings, and describes the relationship with his parents as distant. He lived most of his early childhood life in the care of a nanny. At age seven, was sent away to boarding school. 

He has never been attracted to girls or women, though had minimal contact with girls his age, He takes little interest in women or in their society. There is nothing markedly feminine in his general appearance, but he does believe that his general kinesthetic disposition is not viewed by others as manly. Specifically, he says that he is concerned that the animated way in which his hands is too recognizable as a symptom of what he considers to be his congenital condition. 

He is of average height and medium-slim build, but generally normatively developed and healthy. He considers himself to lack skill in athletic pursuits with the exception of fencing, but is an omnivorous reader and excels in academics. 

In his own words:

“I have always been very shy of showing any affectionate tendencies. Most of my acquaintances (and close friends, even) find me curiously cold. For obvious reasons I have been unable to speak as to why this is. I fear being cruelly misunderstood, and I have at times felt as if wrestling in the folds of the morally reprehensible python of inversion.

"I find myself cut off from others, feel myself to be an outcast, and, amongst others my age, am intensely withdrawn. Privately, I am miserable. The desire to love and be loved is hard to drown, especially when treading through a veritable pool of ‘what-ifs’ as I am surrounded by male virality in all aspects of my life at school.

“I am not sure entirely what it is for which I am longing. Certainly, my parents neglected to impart to me any sort of knowledge of the adult modus vivendi. The only thing I do know with confidence is that no bodily satisfaction should be sought at the cost of another person’s distress or degradation, including my own.

“At my school, I have heard rumor, and in fact been the subject of rumor, regarding attachments and gratifications with other boys, which are all untrue. As with any topic that is discussed only behind cupped hands and in whispers, the stories become more and more fantastical as they are shared from schoolmate to schoolmate. Upon my truest promise, I have never yielded to the temptation of any sort of intercrural connection. I have preserved strict chastity. I do not know how long my mind can hold back the instincts of my heart and body, but I am terrified that I will soon lose this seemingly never ending battle.”

Shortly after E.P. submitted his history for publication in this book, it was reported that he and several other boys at his school went missing in what the school is calling an Act of God. Any additional information about what may have happened to this youth and his friends is not forthcoming at this time. 

~

HISTORY S.M. - English, student at a public boarding school, aged 17. Father and mother both living; the latter is of a better social standing than the former. He is much attached to his mother, and she gives him some sympathy and companionship, when he is at home. He is the third of four siblings, all boys, and he suspects that his next elder brother is also inverted.

In early life, S.M. was of delicate constitution and his studies were often interrupted by illness. Though living under mostly happy conditions he was shy and nervous, often depressed. This he attributes to having been on several occasions mishandled by his next elder brother; concedes that his brother is prone to foul and violent moods. However, his brother is well-liked, by his father and other siblings, he says, because of his masculine character. His brother has many friends at school. Though S.M. does report that he does have some influence over some of his classmates, he has few close friends.

Of his inversion, he reports the following:

“There is a boy in my year who has become the absorbing thought of my school days, and who comes to me in my dreams almost nightly. I have absolutely no words to tell you how powerfully his beauty affects me. He is well-formed, lean, shy, and in my dream he sits beside me, allowing our legs to touch and for me to caress his thigh. He looks at me with desire in his eyes, green, but clouded over dark with his want for me to kiss him. And I do want to kiss him– on his wrist, and his palm, and into the gentle, milky curve of his neck, and to leave my lover’s mark on him, to say to anyone who might pursue him that he is mine and mine only. 

“I keep my feelings hidden, however, hardly daring to look at him for fear of being found out. His bed is next to mine, and the rest of the dormitory is boisterous and lewd, and there is a good deal of bullying, which I cannot bear to have directed my way.

“I have tried to tell myself that these dreams are not due to a moral failing of my own, but indeed this boy’s own influence upon me. I love him and I resent him. His seeming indifference towards my existence, as he has never responded well when I have plucked up my courage to speak with him, angers me. I want him to look towards me and love me, too.”

S.M. was involved in the same incident as E.P.,  where he and several other boys went missing from their school. It is reported that their last known whereabouts were their school dormitory rooms.

[kitkat238984]

Goddess Of Your Dreams (soulmate au)

Summary: In an alternate universe where soulmates are determined by unique marks, you do everything you can to hide your matching soul mark from the cold-hearted handsome devil, Hook.

But when a match with "Timeless" Toni Storm causes your secret to be revealed to the whole world, you have many awkward encounters that leave you both mesmerised and breathless.

TW: Mentions of sexual themes, normal wrestling violence.

The crowd roared as The Chairman’s Intent played through the speakers and Hook entered through the tunnel and made his way down the ramp towards his hungry-for-violence opponent, Wheeler Yuta. Excalibur’s voice fed through the TV screens in the homes of thousands. 

“And we see the cold-hearted handsome devil walk down the ramp, so confident and expressionless, a complete contrast to that sunflower soulmark he’s sporting there, wouldn’t you say Taz?” 

The father of the heart-throb in the wrestling world had to stay neutral in his job as a commentator, but never hid how proud he was of his son and his achievements. “Of course. But if there’s one thing I’m sure about is that he will make some lucky girl very happy”. 

“Hook, doing his ritual of circling around the ring. And I think the soul marks make you realise just how human we all are, showing almost the vulnerability in people as stone cold as Hook”. 

The match between Hook and Wheeler wasn’t for any title, only to settle a score when Yuta began cussing out Hook’s arrogance and the friends he “strings along”, and - as he usually does - Hook shoved those words where the sun don’t shine and had him caught in a redrum within minutes. After all, cursing is Danhausen’s thing. 

— 

A couple of weeks later, you were backstage, preparing for your upcoming fight against ‘Timeless’ Toni Storm for the Women’s World Championship. This was quite frankly the biggest match of your life, and against a wrestler who was far more experienced than yourself, even though you had been in AEW for a year now and had made quite the spectacle of yourself with your alluring character. You couldn’t count the number of times male fans of AEW had approached you with their clever but awkward pick-up lines. 

“You’re ready for this” , the voice of your ringside and friend, Kris Statlander, told you whilst patting your shoulder. “You’ve studied every one of her moves and trained for weeks on end. How are you nervous about this?” 

You ignored her question with no real answer to give her. You were ready, more than you had ever been for a match, let alone already being a decent wrestler. 

You continued to watch yourself in the mirror. You really did look like a goddess. And that wasn’t you trying to be conceited because your whole gimmick was that you were Venus, the Roman goddess of love and beauty and sex and more. You wore waist high blue shorts with decorative white buttons and drawstring with a matching plaid sporting bra which cupped your breasts and made your cleavage visible for all to see. 

You didn’t mind being used as sex appeal to be honest as it made you feel a lot more confident in your self. You’d hardly had any confidence before AEW until one day you decided to be brave, wearing very little sportswear at the gym which happened to be the day you were recognised as a potential for professional wrestling. Coincidence? Who knows, but you didn’t care. Everyone appreciated you as a good sportswoman. You were here and you were proud your dream came true whilst also being one of the best female wrestlers in the company. 

“You know why I’m nervous”, you said, timidly, glancing to the right of the mirror to meet the gaze of Kris. 

“We go through this every time, no one’s going to see it. They never do! That choker is very secure. You might as well be strangling yourself”. 

You hummed, instinctively slipping your hand under the large braid that snaked down the right side of your neck and swept your fingers under the choker, touching where you knew your soul mark to be. 

“I don’t even know why you bother hiding it. It’ll come out eventually. One of your hookups are going to piece it together”. 

You smiled and chuckled lightly at her comment and turned around, tiptoeing to lean closer to her ear. 

You whispered, “Daniel Garcia didn’t say anything when he had his hands wrapped round my throat”. 

With a hearty laugh, you went to leave the room you used as a dressing room hearing her dramatically gasp, saying “Y/N, you’re such a slut!” 

The door was half open with you facing inside. “I may be a slut but I still have morals. My soulmate is more important than any of those floozies”, you laughed again and opened the door fully, but almost crashed into a figure who was walking past and most likely heard the last of your conversation. 

You looked up at the tall man wearing a white hoodie and black sweatpants and immediately cleared your throat and glanced back down when you made quick eye contact when he glanced at you with a raised eyebrow and continued on his way, not stopping once to question what he just heard. 

“Awkward”. You turned your head to glare before nodding your head towards the hallway so you can get ready to go on, not before taking one last look at the cold-hearted Hook who had his hood covering that damned mark that matched yours. 

Why, of all people, him? 

You’d never even spoken to each other and you always thought that your personalities would clash. That is, if you even knew his personality. His cool exterior was only an act after all - or at least most of it. You had no clue where to even start with him. 

Your ‘quick look back’ must have lasted a little longer than you anticipated because you found yourself being pushed through the dimly lit hallway towards the stage. 

Toni Storm was already out there making her extravagant entrance as usual and the nerves suddenly hit you again like a continuous stabbing to the gut. 

Kris must have read you like a book because she began roughly massaging your shoulders and shaking you, waking you out of the depths of your own mind. 

“You got this", she told you. “Rip out the feathers of her boa and you’ll have her crumbling on the spot”. 

“Or that would just make her even more angry?" 

“Just beat her senseless and bring back that belt. Come on, we’re on”. 

You heard the guitar riff you’d heard so many times which was your entrance song, 'Venus' by Shocking Blue - ironically not such a shocking song for your character. 

Holding your best flirty face, you walked through the tunnel and stood centre stage, eyeing the crowd and blowing kisses at certain men on the front row, contributing to your act. You made eye contact with Toni Storm and gracefully travelled down the ramp with Kris tailing behind you, riling up the crowd a bit before walking around ringside. 

Entering the ring you saw she had a mic in her hand and so you thought you’d wait to attack and have a little fun first. 

“Any words before I banish you off the screen?” 

You motioned for the mic and she willingly let you have it. “First off, that belt clashes with your outfit. And secondly… I’m about to knock you into the 1800s, showgirl”. 

You throw the mic to the side and headed straight for the attack which Storm skilfully dodges but you bounce back on the ropes and high kick her in the face which makes her stumble back. 

You go back and forth with the attacks and a few minutes in it’s still difficult to predict a winner as you both fight through the pain, eager to get your hands on that belt. 

You let her swing you around the ring before stranding you in the middle where she kicked your back and you fell forward, face first into the canvas. Blood was most likely pouring from your nose at this point and you felt pretty helpless but, your arms the only thing keeping you up, even when she had your legs bent and leaning on your back you still wouldn’t budge so the referee never started counting. 

Everything from that point felt like slow-motion. Storm yanked up your hair and grabbed a hold of the precious choker that you felt the need to guard with your life. However, you couldn’t stop her as your arms were still in use to hold you up. 

You thought you could hear the voices of Excalibur, Tony, and Taz commenting on this scene when your oxygen privileges were taken away from you for a brief couple of seconds. 

“Dramatic as ever! Toni Storm ripping that choker from Venus, breaks the chain, and still has her-” 

“Wait a minute there, Tony”, Excalibur interrupts. “What’s that? On her neck?” 

“Why, it’s a sunflower!” He was quick to reply. “Oh, my god! Now, for anyone who doesn’t remember, that’s the exact same soul mark as our very own Hook! Taz, how are you feeling about this?” 

A few seconds passed before Taz responded to that question, bewildered by this realisation that millions of people in the fanbase had just come to terms with. “For the first time ever, I-I have no words. I’m utterly speechless”. 

You couldn’t believe what had just happened. You were in such shock that the one thing you were trying to hide was revealed that you lost control of your arms and they gave in to both the weight of yourself and Toni - who was still laying over your back - and the recoil of your head after the breakage of your choker. 

You acted fast when the referee began smacking his hand on the canvas and you swung your elbow back into Storm’s side, rolling her onto her front in place of you, pulling her legs back and holding down her upper back with your knees so she couldn’t escape. 

Within three seconds, you heard the ring of the bell indicating your victory and had secured yourself the WWC. You carefully got off your opponent and used your large braid which was still somehow intact to cover the sunflower mark. You knew it was all too late but perhaps you could save yourself at least a little dignity for now. 

You allowed your hand to be raised in the air and for the Women’s World Championship belt to be slung over your shoulder. You decided to not let your revealed secret take away your triumph and you gladly stood on the ropes of the ring and held up the belt for the world to see. Most of the crowd were cheering which you were relieved at. 

Jumping out of the ring you picked up a mic and yelled out, “Checkmate, bitch!” before Kris attacked you with a hug which you happily embraced, knocking the microphone out of your hand. 

With smiles strewn across your faces, you limped up the ramp and gave the camera a wink and blew a kiss before heading through the tunnel. 

You were greeted with “well done”s and “congratulations”’s, and you didn’t fail to notice every one of them look at where your soul mark was. 

“I can’t believe I just did that”, you said to them all, still breathless. 

“We thought you were a goner when she had you pinned like that. Such a turn around”. 

“Saw it in the viewing room. Could’ve gone either way”. 

“Y/N…” a stern voice called to you. You turned to see who it was and came face-to-face with the one and only Tony Khan. 

Ah shit. 

“I hate to cut this celebration short but could I speak with you for a moment?” 

You stared in shock. “Uh yeah of course”. 

He couldn’t fire you, could he? It was just a soul mark. Even though the scenario that he would get rid of you was unlikely, the fear plagued your mind. 

— 

“I first want to say well done for securing the Women’s World Championship. You deserve it after all the effort you’ve put in this year”. 

“Thank you”, is all you managed to say. 

“I’m going to be straight with you. It was very irresponsible to keep something like a soul mark matched with another wrestler away from myself and the team. We would have understood if you wanted to keep that a secret from the public but not us. We could have helped you and prevented a situation like this from happening". 

You sighed, knowing he was completely right and you should have at least told someone about it so you could get help to cover it rather than taking it upon yourself to hide it from everyone. 

“We can’t do much about it now. The public already knows and we’ll just have to go with it”. 

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying, sir?” 

“If what you’re thinking is incorporating it into a story line, then yes”. 

You had such mixed emotions coursing through your veins at this moment. You were relieved that you weren’t in trouble, excited you were part of a new story line, thrilled that you’d just won your match against Toni Storm, and scared as to what your soulmate would say to you after this. 

He continued. “But I have to ask. Did Hook know?” 

You shook your head lightly in shame and looked down at the hands that sat fidgety on your lap. 

“Well I’ll give you time to sort out a few personal things, and I’ll make sure promos are recorded regarding your new on-screen romance first before there’s any action in the ring. Thank you”. 

You nodded in appreciation and left his makeshift office, now bubbling in anticipation at this new opportunity. You practically ran to your dressing room where Kris said she’d meet you and you’d get changed and party until dawn, drinking to celebrate your success and to also forget about the future encounter with Hook, well… Tyler is what you’d found out his name was, but you weren’t ready to be so casual with someone you'd never spoken to before. 

— 

When you were back at work, you expected Hook to approach you straight away, however, the most you got out of him was a mere glance your way or sometimes you’d catch him staring at your back, not that he seemed even the slightest bit embarrassed to turn away. 

You couldn’t possibly start any conversation with him. In fact, when you were told what was happening for one of the promos, introducing your on-screen romance, you never spoke to him about it and had to improvise when the cameras were placed on you both. 

“Danhausen, tell us how you’re feeling about the upcoming trios match?” The interviewer asked him. Danhausen being himself, he had this scary yet amusing pose with clawed fingers in front of him. 

“Very good. I have cursed all three of them so they may die before then”, he said in his freaky accent. 

“And of course you’re teaming with Hook and Orange Cassidy - a pretty strong team formed there if you ask me - how do you think they’re coping with the pressure of this match?” 

“I fear they are frozen”. 

“Uh frozen? What do you mean by that?” 

“Some powerful sorcery has frozen them in time. Look!”. 

The camera first focused on Orange Cassidy who was leaning up against a wall, both arms and legs crossed and slowly chewing on a piece of gum. 

The camera then turned to you and Hook who were told to stand opposite one another, simply staring into the other’s eyes, your soul mark being the one to show the camera. 

Although it was only acting, you still felt butterflies floating around your stomach since this was technically the most you’ve ever interacted with him, your soulmate. No one else’s soulmate. None of his adoring female fans had the same mark as him on their necks. The thought of you being the special one almost brought a smile to your face, but you had to stop yourself when you remembered the cameras. 

You used this time to really appreciate his facial features. How had you not realised how attractive he was sooner? His jawline was well-defined yet looked so soft to touch. And his eyes… so dark but so… intriguing… and… and… what were you saying? 

You’d got so lost in the moment that you hadn’t even realised that the cameras were no longer on your faces. It was only when the clicking of Danhausen’s fingers in between you both that you were brought out of your trance. 

“I fixed them! I didn’t know I could uncurse someone…” 

You saw Orange Cassidy on the other side of the room, peeking over the top of his sunglasses with his suggestive look at you. Hook hadn’t once flinched or maybe even blinked and still continued staring your way. The fear and self-consciousness struck you like it had done a thousand times before and you awkwardly walked past him towards catering where you were to meet Kris and Willow. 

You were smitten alright. Unmistakably. And you did not want to make yourself feel even more flustered than that situation had already made you. 

— 

The plan was simple. "Timeless" Toni Storm and her husband and AEW wrestler, Juice Robinson, would talk shit about you in the ring, daring you to come out with the belt. You’d go out, say something snarky, they’d beat the crap out of you, and Hook comes out to save you. Easy. Simple. 

Except it really wasn’t that simple. Not when Hook was involved. You couldn’t bring yourself to confront him again. Danhausen’s promo was only the beginning and you only just managed to hold yourself together then. 

It took you a few laps around your hotel room that morning to clear your mind of the worries. Once all of this was over and everything made sense in the world, there would be nothing left to worry about and you would actually be able to get on with your life and career in peace. 

You were backstage, ready for your entrance. Hook stood only a couple metres away, eating a bag of chips. If there was one thing you definitely knew about Hook as Tyler, it was that he loved chips. Even when the cameras were nowhere in sight you always saw him with chips to hand. 

“...so what I want to say to Venus is that if you want to disrespect my beautiful wife, then you can come out here and say it to me as well. Come on! What are you afraid of? Everyone knows your dirty little secret now so you might as well show it to the world!” 

You took that as your cue and motioned for the sound and visuals manager to play your into. When it began, you wasted no time strutting out on stage, with no bother sending kisses to the crowd. After all, you were meant to be angry at them. 

You were given a mic at the end of the ramp and when you entered the ring, the power couple before you stood tall and confident, looking down at you who stood alone with your newly won belt you felt the need to protect. 

“Let us not dither with such a minor dispute. I don’t want to waste my time with an extra”, Storm laughed, and you heard a few boos in the crowd. Thank you. “You have stolen what is mine and I want it back. Now”. 

You smirked to the crowd and back at her who had her hand out expectedly. 

“It’s actually my belt now. My belt, my championship, my title. If you want it, you’ll have to come and take it from me. Mr. Loverboy over here don’t scare me”. 

An impulsive thought suddenly came to you whilst saying that. Where were their soul marks? Were they matching? People get into relationships, but normally they wait for their soulmates for marriage. Perhaps you just couldn’t see their marks, you thought, but then inwardly grimaced at where it might be as Robinson wasn’t exactly hiding much of himself with the amount of clothing he was wearing. 

“And where’s yours?” she asked. “Are you done staring at each other or are you still both lost little puppies, looking for their owners?” The teasing began to infuriate you. She must have been told to make the most of how she was the one to shed the light on your soul mark. 

“It’s… none of your business…” you awkwardly stated, glancing off to the side. 

“I’ll tell you what is my business. That championship. Darling?” 

Within seconds, the mic flung out of your hands for goddess knows how many times now and before you knew it, your hands were pinned behind your back and you had fallen to your knees, hair pulled to look up the 1920s star, officially at the mercy of the couple. 

As always, Storm dramatised the entire scenario, acting as if the belt was an Oscar she’d won for a picture show, and suddenly flung it to the side of the ring before striking your face with her forearm several times and you could do nothing but endure it. 

At one point you decided to test the waters and spat at her, who gasped disgustingly and kicked you to the side and you dropped on the floor. 

As if on cue, the arena darkened and Action Bronson played through the speakers, notifying you that Hook had entered the scene, and the butterflies yet again fluttered in your chest. 

Don’t get nervous now with millions of people watching you, Y/N. 

At the sight of Hook striding down the ramp with his cold-hearted yet handsome, sort of devilish expression - oh you got why they called him that now - Robinson and Storm ran past him towards the tunnel, Hook intimidatingly puffing out his chest through his hoodie as they crossed. 

The crowd went absolutely wild when they saw that Hook hadn’t stopped there and fought, but climbed through the ring and stood over your feeble state. As expected and without any exchange of words, he offered you a hand which you looked to the audience for approval before accepting gratefully. 

Ahhh it hurts so much. I didn’t realise the soulmate bond was this powerful. Was he feeling the same as me? How was he so cool about this all? 

You smiled as you both walked up the ramp in style, a couple that were quite frankly unstoppable to AEW. 

You didn’t bother lingering backstage, hoping that maybe Hook would finally approach you since you still couldn’t gather the courage to do it yourself. It was rather hypocritical of you seeing as you had an entire year to say something, but you just wanted to know if he was interested in you or not before making a fool out of yourself. 

A small gasp escaped your lips when a strong hand gripped your arm and spun you around where you faced the devil himself. He stared at you like he had all those other times, although you noticed the subtle desperation in his expression as his nose twitched and eyebrows furrowed, adjusting his jaw. 

His eyes shifted and you followed his gaze to where your mark was and self-consciously reached up to touch it but his hand gently took hold of your wrist, stopping you, and his head leaned closer toward your neck. 

Was this a chapter out of Fifty Shades of Grey or something? 

You couldn’t tell if your heart had stopped or if it was beating so furiously that it would burst out of your chest. A shiver sent down your spine and a shaky breath left your lips when you felt his own brush over the mark you shared, giving you the perfect angle to see his own soul mark. 

It really was a replica of the one you had which was a given. 

His head lifted out of your neck and he met your eyes again, this time exhibiting a sly smirk telling you that he knew exactly what he was doing to you. 

How devious… but you couldn’t deny that you were loving every second of it. 

“Why were you ignoring me?” you finally managed to ask after weeks since your mark was first shown in the ring. His obvious attraction and reveal of his need for you as well fuelled confidence within you, and you were glad that this encounter had turned out the way it had. 

“Why did you hide this from me?” He placed a hand on the side of your neck which now filled you with warmth and comfort. 

You kept quiet and bit your bottom lip as you didn’t really have a good explanation for why you did what you did. 

He chuckled lightly and quickly looked over your body, licking his lips - a small detail that only someone as close to him as you were in that moment would have noticed. 

“Well now I know we’re soulbound, it’d be rude not to ask the lady for a drink after the show. So how about it?” 

A large, mischievous grin swept across your face. “I’d love to. But you should know that I don’t commit on the first date. Not to anyone”. 

“Not even to your soulmate? Aren’t you meant to be the goddess of love?” 

“Are you saying you’re already in love with me?” 

You had both found yourselves gradually getting closer and closer. You didn’t even realise when your chests had come into contact, breath tickling each other’s faces. 

“Can’t argue with the soulmate bond”. 

Almost in desperation, your lips crashed into Hook’s who’s hands travelled to your waist to somehow pull you even closer than you already were, your arms snaking around his neck, fingers sliding through the hair at the top of the nape of his neck. 

“...I thought these videos were meant to be about me…” a voice broke you out of your kiss and you felt Hook huff and pout like he usually does, making you giggle at his childishness. 

You turned and saw Danhausen standing, watching you both in confusion with the camera crew situated behind him, pointing towards you. 

This was undoubtedly going to be aired in a promo but you couldn’t care less in that special moment of yours. The crew left once they realised that you both weren’t going to budge from where you were. You’d just been thrown in the arms of your soulmate after a year of knowing the truth and over a month of incredible attraction. 

Your attention was very quickly back on the man securely holding you in place, and you decided to tease him a little if that was the game you were going to be playing. “I’m not just the goddess of love. I’m the goddess of beauty… desire… sex…” 

Knowing exactly where you were going with this, his smirk returned, bigger than before. “Well let’s see. Beauty? Check. Desire?” He told a hold of your hand before guiding it towards the bulge that stuck out of his sweatpants. You squeezed his length gently, earning a soft groan before pulling your hand away again. “Check. Sex? Well I guess I’ll be the judge of that”. 

His hands slid down, cupping your ass and lifting you up with ease as you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. You felt yourself being carried through the halls backstage and you used this time to entangle your hands back through his hair which caused him to squeeze where his hands were placed on your backside. 

You lightly nibbled on his neck where the mark was and breathed in all of him. 

Ugh. Did he always smell this fucking good? 

You didn’t care if the people you passed were judging you or not; you only cared that all this tension was finally about to be released. 

“You’ll be turning full heel after the night is over, baby. I’m about the fuck all that gracefulness out of you”. 

You giggled and leaned in close to his ear and whispered, “You just try me”. 

THE END. 

[abadbitchblogs]

SOS

Part 1

Pairing: Jey Uso x OC x Damian Priest

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.6k

a/n: Ya girl is alive y’all! I wanted to revamp this because I felt like y'all deserved more! Thank you to everyone who has supported me and my work. I love y'all!  All likes, comments, reblogs and feedback is greatly appreciated!

-divider by @cafekitsune

Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion as the entire roster hooped and hollered in  celebration of Trin’s return at the Royal Rumble. While shots, champagne and cocktails were being thrown back, all Amirah could do was watch the way her best friend humbly received the love she deserved with tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. It was such a full circle moment for her; comforting Trinity when leaving the company broke her, supporting her decision to join Impact! Wrestling, then experiencing the reception of her homecoming. Watching her fall back into the swing of things like she never left felt so satisfying. Before she could spiral into an emotional breakdown, a large hand waving in her face snapped her out of her thoughts making her scrunch her nose in confusion. “Aye, girl! You good?” Jimmy’s furrowed brows and jutted out bottom lip came into focus, immediately coaxing a laugh out of her. Jimmy was one person that you could count on to lift your spirits without even trying- he was the textbook definition of goofy.

“I'm good, promise!” If he doubted she was telling the truth, the content glimmer in her eyes deterred him from pressing the matter any further. Instead, she looped her arm with his and dragged him back over to their friends where they could enjoy their night out. Plopping down on the sectional next to Trinity, the group of superstars fell into easy conversation catching up with those who are on a different brand as they only see each other during the major PLEs. Somehow the chat turned into the couples pestering the single people; i.e Bayley and Amirah. Bay may have fought to defend herself, but she just found their concern amusing. “Listen. I don't treat being single like a punishment. I love being by myself. I aint gotta worry about nobody cheating on me, nobody resenting me for my career or trying to police my body.” No lies were detected as they all had no choice but to agree. Relationships in their business were hard whether you were with a fellow pro wrestler or a regular person. “Besides, the chances of finding real love like y’all are slim as hell!”

“I know that's right!” Bianca gloated; her and Montez’s reality show was doing so well that they were WWE’s IT couple. Mirah playfully chucked a straw at their girlfriend while Trin, Bay, and Jade were too busy laughing at her EST antics surfacing outside of the ring. “ What about you and Damian? I be seeing y’all posted up looking cozy?” The question got a chorus of ‘oooohs’ from the women, but Bayley  made a face of disgust at her friends’ insinuation. “Girl no. We're just good friends. That man doesn't have a committal bone in his body.” Amirah hummed in affirmation having heard the rumors about Damian Priest and his revolving door of women. “I'm honestly surprised that the two of you aren’t close. He's from New York, you're from New York. He's single and you've sworn off relationships. And I know you like them a little older.” The woman’s jaw dropped at Bayley’s insane attempt at matchmaking. “Girl are you trying to set me up with a sneaky link?” That sent all of the women into another uncontrollable fit of laughter. “You do need some dick.” Trin wheezed out, furthering Amirah’s appalled facial expression before she swatted her best friend’s arm. “You know what? I’m out of here.” A laugh bubbled out of her as she stood dramatically from their huddle only to turn and lock eyes with Jey Uso.

There he was hugging his twin with his chocolate orbs boring into her chestnut ones. Spinning on her heel,  she suggested the girls go down to the dance floor for a song or two. “Come on y'all. We can't let this night pass without shaking a lil something.” Clasping Trinity’s hands, she pulled her to her feet then tugged her towards the stairs with a “We’re going downstairs to dance for a little bit, Jim,” thrown over her shoulder. They scurried by without waiting for a response although she knew Jimmy and Montez were going to follow them anyway to keep an eye on the group. One of the things that Amirah and Trinity bonded over was their love of music and dance with both of them being former dancers. As much as Jimmy hated it when Trin showed her ass, he was going to have to suck it up tonight because they were owed some time to let loose. All that is holy must've been on their side because as soon as they made it to the center of the dancefloor, Twerk by the City Girls and Cardi B blared on the speakers. “Come on, Trin! Lemme see something!” It was always fun to get Trin and Bianca to cut up because Trin was going to kill it every time but Bianca had no damn rhythm. The club was playing banger after banger after banger after banger. If they weren't professional athletes, their feet and edges would be shot to hell. Amirah was throwing her ass back on Trinity, both of them cackling at Jade and Bayley trying to show B how to catch the beat when the tempo slowed to a ballad.  Of course it was a song that a nigga always dedicated to her to make her feel special and now it pissed her off.

This is for you, you, my number one This is for you, you, my number one Oh, yeah, yeah-yeah This is for you, you, my number one

Sucking her teeth as Jimmy giddily cut in for a slow dance with his wife, Mirah cut through the crowd to head back to their section for another drink when she bumped into the only person she did not want to see. His grills seemed to glow in the low light of the club but before he could get a word out, she took a sharp left in search of the restroom. A wave of nausea crawled through her body and she needed to gather herself after coming in contact with that parasite. Just when her hand grasped the doorknob of the ladies room for a moment of solitude, a large hand engulfed her other wrist pausing her movements. “Mirah…” She didn’t even need to turn around to know who the trifling ass voice belonged to. Calmly snatching her wrist from his hold, she shifted her weight to one foot with a snarl etched on her gloss coated lips. “I’m sorry. Do we know each other?” Jey’s eyes softened at her faux confusion as he took a step toward her and her, taking a step back to keep space between them. “Mirah, come on. I just wanna talk to you. I wanna explain myself.” His pleading only made the bile in her throat rise, making her face twist in disgust. 

“Nigga, you should’ve thought about talking to me before you just cut me off like I was some random bitch.” Her words dripped with malice in hope of it being enough to get him to leave her alone. “We ain’t got shit to talk about as far as I’m concerned.” Shoulder checking him as she walked by, not even wanting to be in the same building as him, Jey fought the urge to reach out to her again. He knew getting her to talk to him would be near impossible, but he was determined. Amirah was worth taking accountability and uncomfortable conversations. 

Amirah shuffled through the sea of bodies on the dance floor to find her friends and wish them a goodnight. Trinity spotted the agitated look on her best friend’s face immediately even though she tried to plaster a smile over it. “What happened, boo?” Trin’s brows furrowed in worry only to have Mirah wave it off. “Nothing! I’m good. I’m just going to call it night. That liquor ain’t sitting right in my stomach.” The lie came out faster than she could even register, but it wasn’t a total lie. That bastard did indeed make her sick to her stomach. “Oh okay! We’ll go back with you. I wanna make sure you’re okay.” Gesturing for Jimmy to come over to the two of them, Amirah shook her head in protest. “Hell no. You stay and keep celebrating. You deserve it! I’ll be fine! I already called an Uber and I’ll text you when I’m back in my room.” Pulling her bestie into a tight embrace, she gave her a fat kiss on the cheek before moving to hug their group of friends goodbye. Much to her delight, no one questioned her sudden decline of health too much, just the request of a text message to let them know when she got back to the hotel. With a promise that she would text them as soon as she got in, Mirah flew to the exit of the club like a bat out of hell. 

Sucking in a breath of fresh air, the feeling of relief washed over her soothing the queasiness that plagued her. The Florida streets were surprisingly peaceful at night, allowing her to fully collect herself and actually call an Uber so she just wasn’t standing outside of the club like a lame. As she pulled her phone out of her black purse, the club’s doors opened once more flooding the silence with music. A tap on her shoulder made her slap a friendly smile on her face in case it was a fan wanting an autograph or a picture. But, it was neither and her smile morphed into one of shock when she came face to face with Señor Money in the Bank. Damian was dark and broody so she did not expect to see him at a nightclub, but if his reputation precedes him then he was here for a woman- or two. “Señor Money in the Bank. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Wiping the shock off her face, she mirrored his playful and dare she say- flirty smirk. “Well I was by the bar when I saw you rush out so I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Feigning surprise, Amirah placed a hand over her heart and cooed at his sweet gesture. “Wait until everyone finds out that Señor Playboy is a gentleman.”

Her teasing pulled a chuckle out of him as he cocked a brow in question. “Playboy huh?” “Mhmm I’ve heard about you.” Laughing once more, Damian accepted defeat but pushed for info on his supposed playboy reputation. “So you’ve been asking about me?” Zeroing in on Amirah’s smaller frame with his almost charcoal gaze, it was her turn to laugh. “You wish.”  His smile broadened at her bratty comeback before he very noticeably gave her a once over. “¡Te ves hermosa.” Damian’s eyes met hers again with his gravelly voice scratching her brain deliciously. Maybe Bayley was right; he was fun. “Oh I know.” Mirah shot down his suave Spanish approach smugly, crossing her arms over her chest. “¿Hablas español?” “No, but you pick up a few things when you live in Harlem for a while.” 

Both intrigued and amused by the other superstar’s answer, Damian vowed to get to know her better in any capacity. “You know I was actually heading back to the hotel myself. Why don’t we share a ride? Uber is already on the way.” After contemplating getting in a car with him, Amirah pointed an accusatory finger at him. “If you insist, BUT no funny business.” Raising his hands in mock surrender, he flashed another cheek numbing smile at her. “Promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.” Slapping his chest for his dramatics, she couldn’t help her own snicker which he ate all the way up. 

Their Uber pulled up two minutes later and like the gentleman he was, Damian had helped her climb into the truck before getting in after she was comfortable. “So do you still live in New York?” He pried quietly while they enjoyed their ride back to the hotel. “Sure do.” She replied proudly, watching the palm trees go by as the car rolled on. “Me too. Maybe we could be travel partners.” Humming in thought, she turned to him with a soft smile. “Yeah maybe. I don’t know how often I can be seen with you in public though before people start talking.” He chortled at the woman’s response before giving his own, “Fair enough.” The rest of their car ride was occupied with a game of 21 questions about themselves and their interests outside of wrestling. Coming to a stop outside of the hotel, the pair thanked the driver for his service and Damian exited the car first on the other side to come around and help her out. She could only laugh to herself about him turning on the charm heavily. When they entered the elevator, Mirah noticed that the taller man didn’t press a button for his floor so she shot him a quizzical look. “What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t walk you to your door?” 

With a playful eyeroll she muttered a ‘whatever’ and let the space fill with a comfortable silence. At least she’d be able to get up early for a workout and the night turned out… interesting. A ding broke both of them out of their thoughts as they shuffled off the elevator on the 14th floor. Amirah could feel his eyes studying the swing of her hips while she led him to her room. Abruptly stopping at her door, Damian almost crashed into the back of her too focused on how she managed to walk in those killer shoes effortlessly. “This is me.” She stated, leaning against her door curious to see how the night would end. “Well I think my job here is done. You have arrived safely.” “That reminds me.” Before her friends put out an APB for her, she texted in their group chat that she had mad it back to her room. “Thank you for the escort. I appreciate it.” “It was my pleasure and if you don’t mind,” Damian carefully slid her phone into his hand and input his number. “You know in case I can be of service to you again.” Peering at him through squinted eyes she gave him a drawn out nod. “Riiiiiiiiight.” 

Smirking down at her for the last time, he gently took her hand and raised it to his lips for a kiss on her knuckles while gazing into her cocoa colored eyes. “M’lady, I bid you farewell.” And with that, he turned on his heel and disappeared down the hall in long strides. Entering her hotel room and shutting the door behind her, Amirah collapsed against the door like women in romcoms. Girl what the fuck just happened. Taking in another deep breath, she headed to the bathroom for a much needed shower and to wring her damn panties out. Wait until she tells the girls about what just happened. Before she climbed into the shower to wash off the scent of booze, lust and worn leather, she shot the mysterious man a text of what she meant to say before he left her utterly speechless. 

{Princesa: Goodnight 🖤}

{Papi Chulo: Buenas noches hermosa 🖤}

mirrormirah

mirrormirah Your favorite athlete's favorite athlete 🖤

Liked by archerofinfamy, trinity_fatu and 482,719 others

View all 25,826 comments

trinity_fatu THAT'S MY FRIEND 🥳

⤿ mirrormirah BEST FRIEND!!!! get it right!

biancabelairwwe the finEST

⤿ mirrormirah That's all you bby ❤️

theyluvjeannie80 I know that's right !!!!!

⤿ mirrormirah I luv you boo 😘

archerofinfamy 😈

⤿ mirrormirah 🥰

⤿ bossglowstandard oop 👀👀

jadecargill sexy af 🥵

⤿ mirrormirah trying to get like you 😋

Taglist:

@empressdede @wrestlingprincess80 @whatdoeseverybodywant @alichesmi @reci1996 @2-muchsauce @cyberdejos2 @southerngirl41 @brie-mode-activated @piinklemonad3 @lucidddreamerrr

[zombiekillerbiceps]

Closing In

Leon follows reader home...

Note: thank you to anon for suggesting this premise, ohhhh I did not realize how much I would like writing this - and thank you everyone for your patience!

Content: 3.9 k words, 18+, cnc with enthusiastic consent, stalking roleplay, slasher roleplay, home invasion roleplay, denial, rough sex, taunting, humiliation, crying, overstim, sadism/masochism, Slasher!Leon, obsessed Leon, LeonxReader, fem reader, no y/n. 

-

"I dunno, I just think it's kind of romantic," you say. Your hands fiddle nervously with the tassels on your throw pillow.

"He was a stalker, babe." Leon's voice hides just a hint of amusement. "He cut women up."

"Okay, but besides that-"

"Besides the... The serial killing."

"Yes! Besides the serial killing."

Leon stared at you, an eyebrow arched in judgement. You tried to stay straight faced - by God, you tried - but he had a way of half-smirking his way past your mask with his annoying, pretty face.

"Look, I'm just saying," you roll your eyes, not even sure why you keep talking, "something about... Obsessing over someone like that is kiiind of romantic. What's the point of love if it doesn't make you a little crazy? Y'know? Anne Rice would agree with me."

"Anne Rice was horny for a Confederate twink," he points out.

You gawk for a moment. But like, he's kind of right. So instead of saying anything clever, you throw the pillow at him. He deflects it with his forearm, but that gives you the opening to jump on him. You're wrestling in no time, breathless and sweaty and... Moving against each other...

-

You're out for lunch with your friend, Jessie, at some too-fancy Parisian style café. You sip a caramel iced latte and share a plate of rose coloured macarons. She complains about her studies, you complain about work, and you both come to the resounding agreement that deadlines suck. She complains about her last date, some butch that was more well-read than her that accidentally made her feel stupid. You don't have the heart to tell her that they sounded cool as hell. You tip-toe around telling her about Leon. It's not that you weren't proud of him, it was just... With the nature of his job, what were you going to say? Yeah, I'm seeing this guy who has a gun case built into the dresser and is super paranoid about people visiting his place and won't tell me what he does but he's like, totally a sweet guy and not some psycho? Yeah. Okay.

You stretch, appreciating the summer sun on your limbs and the peaceful breeze around your skirt. Your phone rings. Jessie snatches it up before you have a chance to, and then gives you the most scandalous, shit-eating grin you've ever seen.

"No. Don't you dare-!"

"Hiiiii lover boy," she coos over the phone.

Oh fuck, kill me.

"Jessie, give me the phone!" You reach across the table, the ceramic plate between you clattering loudly against the glass table. You freeze, feeling eyes on you. Jessie opens her mouth in mock embarrassment.

"So you're the secret boyfriend that my best friend keeps hiding from me?"

"Jessie, come on."

She listens for a moment, then laughs. You get up from your chair and walk over to her while she tries to twist away from your grasp.

"mhm, mhm - oh, sorry, I think someone wants to talk to y-"

You finally snatch it from her grasp. You give her a stare with the intensity of someone who can kill by staring. You try to keep your voice as flat as possible.

"Hey, sorry about that. What's up?"

"Is that Jessie?" He asks. He's got that... Quirk in his voice. The one that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You can feel Jessie watching you and try to keep it cool.

"Yeah, sorry, she's like, literally five years old sometimes."

"She seems fun."

"Babe, I'm kinda busy, did you have a reason for-"

"That's a pretty dress you're wearing."

You freeze halfway to sitting back down in your chair. Jessie tilts her head, giving you that concerned-puppy-dog face she did when she knew something was up.

You clear your throat and find it suddenly dry. You sit back down but you're a little clumsy, your skirt getting caught on the arm rests. You snatch it back, and then trying to regain your cool, you take a sip from your iced latte. You hear him chuckle on the other end. Did it get cold all of a sudden?

"What, uh, what do you mean by that?"

You can practically hear him grin into the receiver.

"I mean," he says, drawing out every syllable. "I can see you. And you look pretty today. That skirt will roll up pretty easy-"

You hang up on him. Mostly in panic. There was no way you were going to do that in public! Your eyes scan the area around you. Pretty cafe patio, pretty park across the street, some people going about their daily business. You can't see him anywhere. He must be fucking with you. He must have known you were going to wear a dress, it's so hot out, and where would he even be hiding?

A cold hand touches yours and you almost jump out of your skin. Jessie's taking your hand in hers, and when you meet her gaze, she looks like she's about to cry.

"I'm so sorry if I caused any issues between you, I totally shouldn't have answered it. I didn't think he'd like, get angry with you," she starts to wetly babble, swaying between guilty and protective. You love her very much, but you don't know what to say.

Oh, it's just this weird sex game we play, I promise this brooding dude who you've never met and only spoken to once is definitely a good guy and not like emotionally abusive.

"Hey, hey, Jessie. Don't worry about it. It wasn't about that he's got this... Thing. Unrelated. But uh, look, I have to go."

She frowns, almost curving her pink lip-glossed mouth into a pout.

"If he so much as leaves a scratch on you, I will kill him."

Your thoughts flit to the bite marks and bruises that are just covered by your dress. If only she knew.

You kiss her cheek, snatch up one final macaron, and take your leave. You try to control your pace, look cool, act natural. Your eyes scan the buildings and alleyways around you. You seriously can't find him.

Your phone rings.

You stare at it for a moment. Your hands are shaking a little when you answer it.

"It's sweet how much she cares about you," he says. An idea dawns on you. You nod and give an mhm sound, listening around you for anything noticeable. A church bell rings just ahead of you and you hear it echo over the phone.

"You're close," you say. You try to sound threatening. He just laughs at you.

"Obviously. How else would I know you're wearing that citrus perfume I love?"

"I wear that everyday." Your voice shakes as you speak, and you can't help but whip your head around. You half expect to see him there, but it's just some guy who gives you a dirty look.

"No, you don't. You only wear it when you're going to see friends. You usually wear the vanilla one. You like that it's so subtle."

You're a little impressed he noticed that. It was kind of sweet, really, if he wasn't totally freaking you out. How did he possibly get close enough to smell your perfume without you noticing?  You start walking again. You want to catch the train home. Maybe you can trap him there.

You use the shop windows as you pass to get a better look, pretending to window shop.

"Do you think I'd look good in that," you ask, with no idea what you're referring to. You're looking past whatever is behind the glass to observe the reflection. A spot of blonde hair, maybe... He got a totally different hair cut? No. Not him.

"Using the reflection. Clever."

He hangs up.

You spin around again, desperately searching the crowd. He was a beefy guy and he moved like a panther, there's no way he was just casually blending in. But, you can't find him.

You wrap your arms around your core. Knowing you're being watched makes you want to shrink into yourself. Yet you can't ignore the excitement you feel. It was kind of romantic, really. Kind of dangerous.

You liked Leon best when he was dangerous.

You set off again, somehow walking a knife's edge between nervous and confident. Both prey and prize. You keep looking over your shoulder as you pass into the crowded underground of the subway station. It's right around rush hour and it's so packed you can hardly move. Other people are breathing your oxygen and you're just recycling theirs. It's tight, and hot, and moving at the exact speed that makes you feel like no one is really getting anywhere. You pull your purse tight to your body and try to shove past people, only to be confronted with more people.

Your phone rings. You hang up. And then, in a stroke of brilliance, you call back.

His ringtone echoes out in the tiled halls. You try desperately to find it, but it only rings out twice, then it's lost in the sea of people.

"Clever," his voice is deep on the other end. "I'm almost impressed."

"Yeah. Why don't you stop hiding?"

"Oh, I know you're eager, but I didn't think you'd want me to cut you up in this crowd."

He's impatient. You can tell by the sharpness of his voice that he's more frustrated than he admits. The threat sends a shiver down your spine, and you can’t help but picture yourself bent over on the filthy tile floor, knife to your throat, fucked within an inch of your life as people step past. The ebb and flow of the crowd pushes you towards the oncoming subway.

"What exactly is your plan?" He asks. You can hear the screeching brakes over the phone. "I know you take the 76 Southbound until Queen Street. I know you get off and walk two blocks to George Street. I know you live in a turn of the century brownstone with a heritage plaque and bathroom sink that takes forever to drain."

You step onto the 76 Southbound near the front. You press your back to the wall and watch as people get on.

"Yeah, well," you say victoriously, "I know you have to go the same way."

And then you see him. He walks directly into your trap, and realizes it too late. His blue eyes widen in realization. The door slams shut behind him.

You hang up.

Some people pile up in front of you, giving you cover from him. You watch him from behind shoulders and under arms. Open, navy bomber jacket and a grey t-shirt with black jeans doesn't exactly scream slasher killer. But, something about how casual he looks keeps your attention. He blends in, he's unsuspecting. And, to your surprise, he's grinning like a fox.

He's broad, and when he moves through the crowd, people make room for him. He scans every seat and every face with purpose. Inching his way towards the back. You realize you have nowhere to go. You start to panic. Maybe you get off a stop early? And then what, he beats you to your house and waits for you?

No, you have to get home before he does. Lock the doors before he can get in. You push closer to the door so you can be the first one off. You turn to track his progress and directly meet his gaze.

Fuck.

His expression drops, his eyes glaring at you from under his brow. You're almost hypnotized by them, frozen in place while he cuts through the crowd.

You're pinned down with nowhere to go. But, surely, nothing will happen in public, right?

He pushes past a few more people and then he's on you. He towers above you, his broad shoulders cutting out other's view of you. You notice how his t-shirt clings to his body. How well fitting his jeans are. You also notice the angry squint in his eyes from under his brow.

"Did you really think you could hide from me?" He brings a hand down to touch your hip, holding it in his grasp. You quiver against him as he leans down, close enough to whisper in your ear. "Don't you know I’ll always find you?"

You turn your head away from him defiantly. Your eyes scan the train, but passengers nearby don't seem to notice. They all have that vacant long-day- commute stare.

"No one's going to help you, sweetheart." He closes in, one arm rests on the wall beside you, his body angled to ensure prying eyes can't see. His free hand slides up your body. It caresses the curves of your hips, the softness of your tummy, the round of your breast.

You flush. Your hands come up to his chest as if that will stop him from pawing at your tits.

"Leon, seriously? Here?" You whisper it, completely embarrassed.

"I can take you whenever I want." He uses that commanding voice you've only heard a handful of times before. "You're mine."

To prove his point, his hand dips between your thighs, and he presses his fingers against your pussy over the fabric of your skirt. It's so sudden and strong, your hand goes to his wrist on instinct. He doesn't stop, rubbing hard enough to make your legs shake.

"Could probably take you right here," he mutters, his breath hot on your ear. You feel yourself get wet at the thought.

"Queen Street." The robotic, automated subway voice chimes out from overhead.

The door opens. You lose your balance, but manage to recover quickly. You move fast, hoping to put as much distance between yourself and Leon as you can. You take the stairs two at a time until you breach the surface, taking in the fresh air like it would save you. But the summer heat brokers no peace, and you know Leon isn't far behind.

You don't look behind you for fear of slowing down. You take one block normally, then decide to cut through an alley way to save time. Every minute was another he could be gaining on you.

As you take a few paces into the alley, your hair starts to stand on end. It's somehow darker here, the smell of mildew and gasoline making your stomach turn. Your cell phone rings. You answer.

"Stop calling!" You snap, betraying more fear than you mean to.

"An alleyway? You're smarter than this." Leon is unphased by your outburst.

You give in, turning your head to look behind you. He stands at the other end, the sun behind him obscuring his features.

Then he moves. With long, easy strides, he makes ground quickly. His hands are stuffed in his pockets and he whistles a slow, off-beat tune. 

You turn and run. Your hand meets the corner at the end of the alley and you use it to redirect your momentum. Full tilt sprinting in a sundress down a public street in the middle of the day probably makes you look crazy. Leon made you look crazy.

You get to your brownstone on George Street. You take the few steps up to the front door. You throw your phone in your purse as you frantically rip through it for your keys.

Fuck, come on, where are they? Lipstick, tampon, water bottle, wallet FUCK! There. You snatch them up like they'll save your life. Your hands shake as you put them in the lock. It turns, and you take one last look to see Leon - oh shit!

He's at the base of the stairs! He takes them by two. You manage to get the door open wide enough to barely squeeze through. His hand slaps against the door but you throw your full weight against it. It slams in his face. He turns the knob. You struggle to hold it against him as you turn the dead bolt. Then the chain. He slams a fist against the door and you slowly back away from it.

A chilling thought dawns on you.

Back door.

You run to the other side of the house, tripping over shoes and a discarded purse as you do, cursing as they steal precious seconds from you. You turn the corner and run directly into the door. Your body stings from the impact. You shakily turn the lock.

Silence. For a few, long minutes, there's just silence. You wonder, disappointed, if he gave up, but take the time to catch your breath.

Your cell phone rings. Sweat rolls down your back as you answer it.

"I got you, motherfucker."

"Did you?" He asks. His voice is cool. Calm. "How confident are you that you got to the back door before I did?"

"I would have heard you come in." You aren't so sure.

"Would you?"

Your apartment is small. You approach the bedroom, then quickly snap the door open. It lies still. Empty.

"You don't scare me," you lie.

"I really almost had you there, didn't I?" He's calling your bluff as you move into the kitchen, "What do you think I would have done if I'd caught up to you?"

The kitchen is still and quiet too. You don't have an answer for him, anxiety knotting in your stomach. You take the turn into the living room.

His arms wraps around your waist with enough strength to lift you off the ground. You scream. You kick at him, but he doesn't budge, dragging you into the living room.

You see a window open.

"Did you climb the fucking trellis?" You ask, shocked and amused at the sight. He tries not to laugh.

"Yeah."

"What are you, Romeo?"

"You said you wanted romance," and then, his voice drops again to that cold, serious tone that makes you feel like prey, "isn't this what you wanted?"

He lets you go and you take the opportunity to run. But his hand is entangled in your hair, the sharp pain making you cry out. Tears gather in your eyes and you whimper. You grab his forearm and try to pull away, but the self-inflicted pain makes you freeze. He rolls his eyes.

"You're just so fucking predictable."

He drags you across the living room floor. It hurts, bare knees roughly hitting the hard wood floor. He lifts you up with an arm around your stomach. Then, he's bending you over the couch.

You try to push back against it. You struggle against him. He pulls your head back by the hair and you nearly sob.

"Please, don't," you whimper. He rolls his eyes at you.

"Not our safe word, sweetheart."

His words make you feel so beautifully helpless. The tears finally fall down your cheeks and, at the same time, you become aware of how soaked your cotton underwear is. His hand comes up and slaps you sharply. You whimper. He does it again, this time harder. The stinging in the side of your face is enough to make your pussy clench around nothing.

He pins you to the side of the couch his hands on your hips. He rolls your skirt up, and makes a choked sound at the sight of you. He tears your underwear down harshly. 

"Please, don't," he mocks with a harsh slap on your ass. "Try and tell me you don't want this."

A finger slides along your slick, from hole to clit. He presses his finger against it just slightly but it's enough to make your hips buck. He gently rolls a finger around your clit a few times, already building that high in the pit of your stomach. He barely fucking touched you and you're already desperate to cum, breath ragged, legs shaking. Leon pulls away. You whimper in disappointment. Then his hand comes down hard against your ass cheek. Then again. Then again. Then again.

The pain is overwhelming. But god, you don't want him to stop. You want hand-shaped bruises on your ass, you want to remember this every time you sit down for the next week.

"You look so pretty for me when you cry" His hand still wet from your cunt comes up and rubs your tears away, leaving an obscene mix of your tears and your desperation for him on your cheeks. The tears keep falling anyways. Then, softly, "you do remember our safe word, right?"

You nod, but you don't say it. You want to go further. You want him to hurt you more. 

“Hey, answer me when I’m fucking talking to you,” he grabs you roughly by the jaw, wrenching your face to look at him. 

“Yes,” you nod, desperately. “I remember.” 

“Wasn’t so fucking hard,” he says. He slaps you again, hard enough to stun you into a stupid, teary-eyed grin.

You hear his pants unbutton, then unzip, then fall to the ground, but you're so overwhelmed you can't move. His hand still in your hair, still tugging enough to remind you of your place beneath him, he lines his hips up with yours.

Then he's pushing into you. One, smooth motion is all it takes, your cunt greedily pulling him in. A high pitched moan escapes his throat, followed by a groaned "so fucking wet."

He fucks you deep and slow. Torturously slow, enjoying every minute of pleasure that he gets. The head of his cock presses against your g-spot, building the high like one boils water. Slowly. Your abdomen pressed against the couch makes it easier for him. The hour of teasing and adrenaline and painful foreplay has you overstimulated. But it’s really the slow, deep fucking that drives electricity through your body. Push and pull, ebb and flow, your face and ass stinging as he works. You’re already bordering on the edge, but his pace doesn’t allow you to go over. You just hover there. And hover there. And hover there. For what feels like hours you’re kept right on the edge without ever going over, building the tension inside you until it fucking hurts, and then you’re crying again. You want him to slam his hips into you, to fuck you into the couch, to do something to make you cum, but he doesn’t.

“Leon, it hurts,” you whine. 

“It’s supposed to.” 

“Please,” you beg, desperation making your voice hoarse. “Please just make me cum, please.” 

“Relax.” 

“Leon-” 

“I said relax. Or I’ll stop right now. Do you want me to stop?” 

“No,” you shake your head, hair falling into your face. 

He takes his time to smooth it back, looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing in the world. He wipes more tears from your cheeks. When he speaks, though, his voice is so hard and cold. 

“Greedy little whore.” 

With no warning, he’s fucking into you harder. Faster. It only takes a few thrusts before you’re cumming on his cock. Your body tenses so hard your muscles scream, shaking and moaning and gasping for air. Your cunt tightens so hard you hear Leon breathe a fuck, baby. It feels like it lasts forever, and when you finally come down, you’re entirely dazed. 

You’re... vaguely aware of his cum dripping out of you, hot and sticky. But for the most part you just feel like you’re floating. Leon slowly lowers you to the floor, grabbing a throw pillow and tucking it under your head. You close your eyes. 

You wake again when the room is an orange glow, a blanket thrown over you for comfort. Leon is lounging on the couch reading a book, and when you stir, you immediately have his attention. 

“Hey,” you mumble sleepily. 

“Hey. Thought I’d let you sleep, you looked like you needed it. Why don’t I run us a shower?” 

“Yeah,” you smile softly, dreamy fuzziness still clinging to you. “I’d like that.”