#( hello! thank you for sending one in!! ^o^ )

[theorphicangel]

Shy s/o again,,,,, but with Satoru for Satoru friday!!! Unlike Sukuna, Satoru has the energy for the both of them, and frankly less of a menace and tease TT

But I’d like to imagine that he and his s/o don’t get it right at first either,,,, so a little angst maybe? 👀 Love your work by the way!!

hello!!!! i love love love shy s/o!!! thank you so much for sending in asks!! thank you so much for reading my works!! <333 this was meant to be a drabble but i kept on yapping...sorry

if we're talking about the younger version of gojo then i agree that it would start off a little rough. you are both the complete opposites of each other. he's the definition of yapping whilst you sit behind him and suguru without saying a word.

"sometimes it's like you're not even there" is a comment he throws over his shoulder, peering at you from his glasses.

it stings especially coming from someone like him. you knew very well who he was and the status of his clan which made you even more nervous to be around him.

you don't reply, not knowing what to say as your fingetips graze over the wooden desk, scratching away.

"why are you so quiet? we don't bite y'know?"

suguru lets out a huff. "are you sure about that?" he himself knows how...satoru can overstep with people and it's worse when it's strangers meeting him for the first time. it takes a while to unpack his personality.

it's not a bite but moreso...a bark. constantly.

i would find it really interesting if the reader was actually older than satoru. you're technically his senior yet he doesn't really acknowledge you as one, you're not sure if he's trying to be friendly or deeming your shyness as pathetic, refusing to address you seriously.

I think it takes a few conversations with suguru on your behalf for him to finally understand that some people are just really quiet.

and now you're intriguing him.

but he's still not sure how to approach you. it's awkward between the two of you, whenever you bump into him in the hallway you avoid his eye contact or if he enters a room you leave before he can even make conversation.

taking a note (or few) from suguru he learns not to overstep people's boundaries and space, he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable. ever. but if you're hiding away every time you see him then how is he supposed to approach you? i think he would be so dedicated in trying to get to know you because you seem so mysterious despite your shyness and he's heard that you perform well in missions.

he tries to hang around you more, bump into you after your sessions in the training room and tries to convince yaga to put you together for missions.

but he hits the jackpot when he notices you showing off a new digimon card to haibara. now he finally has a reason to talk to you. before you can even run away he interrupts reading the card in your hand, immediately he spews about the characteristics relaying the strengths and weakness from the top of his head.

and all you can do is stare at him.

fast forward a few years and i think the two of you would have adapted to each other's dynamics. ever since that day he came up to you spewing digimon lore something has grown between the two of you.

of course things have changed. a few people have left your circle and the two of you are one of the only people who have stuck together. he's still as social and energetic as ever and you're still a bit shy but there are aspects of being with satoru that helps you break out of your shell. you still wouldn't be the loudest person in the room yet being with satoru helps you to find the confidence to share your thoughts and most importantly, stand up for yourself.

there are moments where the two of you share a quiet space and there are moments where he's the only one making noise but you wouldn't change it for the world.

[microwavetoaster-selfships]

All the stock images of the 10th Doctor are. Silly. Like geniune white-backdrop, doing some random pose or expression stock images. Like not "this is the picture png stock image that gets slapped on his wiki and other places" but like the if you Google "stock images of people" it's just that. Except him.

[sourkiki]

riki filming his girl during sex 🫠🫠🫠 imagine his thumb rubbing her little hairs and her clit… and he would take pic of her creamed pussy 😃

#hardthoughts

ALBUM'S CONTENT: explicit mature content, established relationship, dom! 西村力 x fem! reader, recording during sex, one usage of "good girl", very faint degrading, ❀ unprotected sex (wrap it up) 𖤐 769 ... ᧔♡᧓ catalogue.

FROM PRODUCER: anon, let me kiss your brain because this is SO hot hello!!! thank you for sending this.. hopefully i did this justice heh

“You want to what?” You gaped at him, eyes all wide and jaw dropped open, dumbfounded with what your boyfriend just asked.

Riki coughed, scratching the back of his head. His eyes averted to the side, not having the courage to look at you. “I was wondering if I could record us having sex.”

“Not that I’m against it or anything, but what brought this on?” You asked, curiosity getting the better of you. Seeing how he was struggling to formulate his response, you reached out to place a reassuring hand above his. 

“I just wanted to try it out and the idea of recording it is hot,” he shrugged his shoulders, eliciting an amused chuckle from you at the sight of him squirming on the spot, like a child being questioned by his mother. 

“Riki, seriously, I don’t mind it,” you replied and that was enough to loosen the weight on his shoulders. 

~ 

A few weeks passed with both of you busy with your respective schedules, the conversation you had long forgotten. That was until Riki had you straddling his lap one random afternoon, pushing your laptop aside. You weren’t surprised when you ended up tangled amongst the sheets, legs loosely wrapped around his waist as he snapped his hips against yours. 

Your bedroom was filled with the sounds of your moans along with skin slapping against skin, creating a symphony of music. Your back arched off the bed, mouth dropping open in a silent ‘O’ shape at how his cock keeps hitting the same sensitive spot, enough to make stars explode within your vision. 

“Shit, you’re so tight,” he cursed, reaching over to the bedside table without slowing down, managing to grab his film camera. 

Turning the small device on, he switched to video mode and started recording without having your face taken. He slowed down his tempo, switching to moving his hips in circular motions, drawing breathless moans and mewls from you. He continued moving down until he stopped to record where you’re connected with one another, zooming in on how your clear, white liquid was sticking onto his cock with every thrust. His breath hitched with how erotic the sight was—your plump, pussy lips spread to accommodate the girth of his cock. 

“Fuck, you’re taking me so well. It’s like you’re made for me,” he breathed out, awe and amazement evident in his voice. 

Riki reached out with his free hand, his thumb appearing in the video as he made a show of pressing down on your clit that was peeking out, causing you to let out a startled gasp, making you tightened around him. Your action made him moan—the sound getting picked up by the camera. He moved this thumb, purposely rubbing it against your little hair surrounding your clit, feeling the slightly rough sensation against the pad of his thumb. 

“Ngh, R-Riki, fuck,” you whimpered, eyes rolling up to the back of your head as he quicked his pace, fucking you through your orgasm. He could see a visible white ring around the base of his cock as you creampied around his cock. 

“Look at you, creampie around my cock like the desperate girl you are. Does being recorded turn you on?” He mocks you, moving his thumb away and replacing it with his fingers, spreading your lips apart to reveal more of the mess you made. 

You whined, unable to utter a single word, not when how good his cock feels inside you, reaching places that should be deemed impossible. Riki’s grip on his camera loosens, the device slipping from his hand as he spills deep inside you, pumping you full of his cum. He cursed when he nearly dropped it, pausing the recording and placed it on the bedside table, ensuring it was placed far from the edge before turning back to you. 

His greedy eyes drink in your current state—your neck covered in hickeys and bite marks left behind by him, faint marks on your hips left behind by his nails. What caught his attention was how his cum was trickling down from your stretched-out cunt. The sight made his eyes darkened and his cock that was still inside you, hardened. 

You turned to him when you felt it. “Riki, don’t—!?”

Your voice died down in your throat, only for you to let out a pitiful whimper as your boyfriend gave an experimental thrust up, making you visibly flinched. Riki chuckled, leaning over to rest his hands on both sides of your head. 

“One more time, hm? Be a good girl and cum one more time for me, would you?” 

taglist: @byshens, @emisluvr, @riqomi, @rikisoup

[goatgoesmbe]

*Feral noises*

I need more Price and sidechick!! (Also, it was amazing) -🐻✨

IM GLAD YOU LIKE IT ANON 🐻✨>O<

THIS TOOK A WHILE IM SORRY, but here you go..!

part 1 of Sugardaddy!Price where you're just his sidechick.. 😔

or are you? *vsauce theme playing*

thanks to auntie @ahobaka-trash for beta <3

Pairing : Price x Gaz x f!Reader, implied poly141 x f!reader tw : oral sex (m receiving), foot job, dubcon, infidelity (or is it?), workplace harassment, praise kink, daddy kink word count : 6731 rated : E AO3

Between Him and Him

The night was full of passion, where pleasure was shared with every touch. Fingers intertwined on the sheet, squeezing with every collision of his hips against yours. His beard rubbed against your skin as his lips left a trail of marks down your neck. Rough fingers oh so skillfully working their magic, placed between your thighs to dance on your clit, rubbing, circling, pinching-

You shook your head and sighed shakily, scolding yourself in your head. This was no time and place to remember that. Your hands tapped your cheeks which felt warm to the touch, before looking around, hoping there were no mind-readers present.

You almost jolted when perfectly manicured nails tapped against your desk, sharp and deliberate. You looked up to find your boss’s wife staring down at you, her expression taut with barely contained anger. Swallowing hard, you quickly stood—while instinctively making yourself seem smaller in her presence. Stammering out an apology, you braced yourself as she launched into a scathing lecture on workplace etiquette.

Used to it by now, you only looked down at your heels and listened. From the very first day you started working as her husband’s secretary, she had always been hostile towards you. You never understood why until one day you overheard her accusing your boss of cheating on her with you.

You almost laughed at the time. As if you'd do something like that.

But now, an image of John Price flashed in your head. His smile, his touches.

The ring on his finger.

"Are you even listening!?" You snapped out of your thoughts at the sharp tone. 

"Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry.." You murmured, fingers twitching as you held back from fidgeting with your skirt.

After enduring another round of berating, you sighed in relief when you saw your boss finally emerge from his office and beckoning his wife over.

You watched as she made a public claim of her husband, kissing his cheek before clinging to his arm as they both disappeared behind the door. You saw a glimpse of her smug smirk before the door was fully closed.

You snorted.

A pause.

Then your shoulders sagged.

As you sank back into your seat, your mind raced with the thought of a similar scenario—but this time, it was John's wife who stood in her place.

Just then, your phone buzzed. As if he was summoned by your thoughts, his name appeared on the screen.

Despite getting an earful about work ethics previously, you answered the call and cradled your phone between your shoulder and ear. "Hello?"

"Hi darling, I hope I'm not bothering you" His deep voice rumbled, sending a shiver down your spine which made you feel ashamed for having such a reaction just from his voice alone.

"No sir" You responded, acting like you were taking a work-related call as your eyes focused on the documents you needed to proofread.

You heard John’s low chuckle and instinctively squeezed your thighs under the desk. "You're off work at 6 like usual?" He asked, to which you responded with a nod.

It took you a second to remember that he couldn't see you. Wow, even without him being physically present, he was still able to make you dumb.

"Yes, sir, 6.00 pm" You finally answered.

"Good" He purred. "I'll pick you up later, yeah?" He added.

"Um- ok-" you didn't manage to finish your sentence before he started speaking again. "From work, not your place"

At his words, you found yourself frowning. “Um- what do you mean?” You asked.

He never picked you up from work, you prefer that he come to your house anyway. So you’d have time to retouch your makeup and change into a more suitable outfit for the date. You didn’t like being to go out unprepared, he knew that.

“I’m taking you to my house” You heard him say.

..What?

He never took you to his place before, and you assumed it was because of the missus.

..Is this like one of those porno where he fantasized about fucking his mistress in the space he shared with his partner?

You should feel disgusted, really.. you should stop interacting with him, block him, ghost him, avoid him at all costs.

But your body betrayed that thought as you felt the heat simmering below your belly. Your face heated up in embarrassment. Ashamed.

Well, at least you were still capable of feeling shame.

“I want you to meet someone” John continued like he could read your mind.

Oh.

He probably wanted to introduce you to his wife so she could see for herself—that you were just a friend, or something, nothing more. A way to earn her trust, to ease her worries about suspicion of infidelity. You wondered if she had grown suspicious, which made him come up with such an idea.

If so, agreeing to this made you more of a bad person than you already were.

“..Okay” You responded against your better judgment.

Before he could speak again, you remembered something and spoke up again. “And oh- John..” You purred softly with the tone you used whenever you wanted something. He seemed to understand it immediately with how he let out an amused chuckle.

“Got it darling, checking out everything in your cart right away.” He uttered firmly, like a soldier following an order.

You felt giddy for being able to get a man like him wrapped around your finger.

Talked too soon.

“I’m expecting the payment first, love.. talk to you later,” He murmured seductively before hanging up.

You could only sigh and smile, and if anyone was looking at you right now, they could see red flushing your cheeks.

Looking around, you made sure no one was actually looking at you before you lifted your phone for a selfie to send him as the payment, snapping multiple pictures with the same pose and slightly different angles. You made sure the camera caught your cleavage that peeked out from your blouse, knowing how he often showed favoritism to your tits even though he worshipped every curve of your body.

You always noticed the way his pupils dilated whenever you wrapped your hands around his arm and made it rest between your breasts, the way he would casually cop a feel of your boob during cuddles, playing with them in a way that made you think you could cum from him fondling your breasts alone, the scratch of his beard as his groans were muffled when he buried his nose between the mounds, big hands squeezing them together like he wanted to suffocate himself with them, how he always need to have them in his hands whenever he pounded into you-

You let out an embarrassing yelp when you feel someone tap your shoulder.

A familiar chuckle was heard which made you look up, feeling a tad bit disappointed to see your boss instead of a certain someone who had been living in your head rent-free.

“Are you okay? Called your name a  few times there.” He said with a head tilt and that signature smirk.

“Yes sir, I’m sorry.. I was  just thinking..” You stuttered, looking down in remorse. You felt your cheeks warming up, hoping that he didn’t notice the look on your face when you were previously lost in such thoughts.

You felt his hand linger on your shoulder before he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. The office light caught the glint of his wedding ring as he pulled his hand away.

He seemed to notice you glancing at it from how his lips curled in a crooked smirk. “She already left, don’t worry.” He said, amused that you didn’t seem to notice that either.

Suddenly, you understood why his wife was wary of you.

“Um, what do you need me for, sir?” You asked, trying to keep professional despite the disgust you feel. Something you never felt when you were with John, even though the older man held the same relationship status.

“The meeting,” His head tilted slightly, eyes narrowing in something close to amusement. "You were supposed to remind me, I was  waiting for you."

Your stomach dropped.

Heart racing, you clicked open his schedule, scanning the time. Five minutes.

Shit.

You cursed John in your head for leaving you unable to focus properly on your job.

You stood up so quickly your chair scraped against the floor. "I’m so sorry, sir. I lost track of time—"

"I noticed."

You could feel the heat creeping up your neck. He didn’t look upset—if anything, he seemed entirely too entertained by your flustered reaction.

"It won’t happen again," you promised, already gathering your tablet and notes.

His gaze flickered over you—calm, assessing, just a little too lingering. Then, "Relax." A faint smirk. "I figured you were busy. That’s why I came looking for you."

Part of you wondered if he had waited in his office for something else to happen if you had come to him.

"Let’s go," he said, stepping aside for you to walk first.

As you did, you swore you could feel his gaze on you, feel the weight of his gaze on your ass. You held back from tugging your skirt down.

Seriously, what’s with you and married men recently..

The day went on in a drag. Usually, you had no problem zoning out as your body moved on it’s own, slipping into the routine of your job. When time slipped away from you, swallowed by emails, reports, and an endless to-do list.

But today was different. Ever since you noticed how your boss sees you in a way that he shouldn’t, you became more aware of everything. The way he purposefully brushed his hand with yours when you handed him something, how he placed his hand at the small of your back, how he not so subtly peeked down the collar of your blouse.

How come you never noticed it before?

It made you uncomfortable, overshadowing your previous anxiety at the thought of John taking you to his house.

His house, the place he lived in, with his spouse.

Come  to think of it, both situations were practically the same.

Even so, you’d rather be with John than anyone else.

You resisted letting out a sigh of relief as the clock finally hit 6 PM. Heels clacked against the pristine floor as you fast-walked back to your desk, swiftly tidying everything up.

“Need a ride?” You froze when you turned around, almost bumping into your boss looking down at you.

“Um- no sir, thank you” You responded quickly before sidestepping to walk past him.

His hand caught your arm, pulling you back towards him before smoothly slipping around your shoulders. “Come on, it’s almost getting dark out, not safe for someone like you to be out alone” He said before dragging you away to the exit.

Your stomach twisted. Refusing him outright felt impossible—he was your boss, after all. Powerful. Untouchable. And if he took offense… your job wasn’t exactly secure.

“Sir, please.. i already-” You tried to plead but then a familiar voice called out your name.

The deep, gravely voice cut through the thick tension like a knife.

As you turned your head to look, and you relaxed as the familiar figure stepped closer. John. He was dressed casually—jeans and a fitted jacket—but his stance was firm, his expression calm but unwavering.

You bit your bottom lip, God he’s so-

Your boss’s jaw tensed. “And you are?”

John barely spared him a glance. “Her boyfriend,” he said smoothly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. His tone was casual, but there was an edge to it—subtle, dangerous. 

Blue eyes shifted to you, like he was expecting you to move to his side. So you did.

A strong arm slid around your waist.

Your heart hammered, but you nodded quickly. “Right. He’s, uh, here to pick me up.”

Your boss smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He then looked between the two of you, assessing. Eyes lingered at the ring on John’s finger, the corner of his lips twitched knowingly before he exhaled a low chuckle. “I see. Well, drive safe.”

John didn’t wait until your boss left, couldn’t care less for the retreating footsteps as he focused on you. His fingers gently held your chin, guiding your gaze away from your boss and onto him.

“You alright, luv?” he asked quietly.

You were still shaken, hands trembling as you felt your heart thumping up to your throat. You were not alright, but you nodded anyway.

He glanced down at you, giving you a once-over like he didn’t buy your response. He always had a way of reading you, picking up on what you felt without you ever needing to say a word. So he knew better than to push. With a small tilt of his head, he simply murmured. “Let's go then”

The ride to his house was quiet, safe for the soft hum of whatever was playing on the radio. Outside, the night sky loomed dark, concealing the clouds that had silently gathered. Eventually, raindrops tapped gently against the car window, their rhythmic pitter-patter lulling you into a fragile sense of ease. For a while, the silence felt almost comforting—until he finally spoke.

“How long has that been going on?” His voice was low, gentle, yet beneath it lingered an unmistakable edge. His protectiveness slipped through the cracks.

It took you a while to process his words, couldn’t think with his musk penetrating your nostrils, the warmth of his hand which rested on your thigh at the hem of your skirt, his thumb drawing small circles on your soft skin.

“I-i think.. it’s been a while” You stuttered meekly.

He scoffed. “You think?” he tutted, scolding in a playful manner. His grip on your thigh tightened briefly before easing, his thumb resuming its slow, deliberate caress.

“I-i never really paid attention..” You responded quietly, cursing your own stupidity in your head. Come to think of it, you should’ve noticed since the beginning. From the way your boss looked at you, to how his wife took a dislike in you. Yet, you’ve always brushed it off, and now you were left to face the consequences with how bold he’d become. 

“Quit your job,” He said. A demand uttered in a calm tone that was edged with steel. It carried the weight of authority, leaving no room for argument.

“W-what? i can’t just-” You cut yourself short when his blue eyes shifted to you, pinning you on the spot.

“I've told you already, you don’t need to work when you have me, sweetheart,” He said in a softer tone, the words uttered were soothing. His hand slipped higher beneath your skirt, fingertips grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

Well… he wasn’t wrong. He was your sugar daddy, after all. Whatever you wanted or needed, he’d provide—whether you asked for it or not. As he had been nothing less than that ever since you met him. And would continue to provide as long as you kept being his good girl. You could trust everything with him, right?

The moonlight caught the gleam of his ring, a fleeting glint in the corner of your eye.

No.

You were smart enough to not put any hope to a married man. Didn’t want to face the reality of him choosing between you and his spouse one day. You could endure everything for now, content with receiving his attention and money even though you knew it was wrong. You couldn’t help it, when somewhere along the way, you’d unintentionally started to have feelings for him.

Looking away with a pout, you responded “I’ve only worked there for three months.. it would be bad for my CV-” Your words faltered, lost in a sharp inhale as his finger went further up to trace along the edge of your panties beneath your skirt.

“Don’t test me, doll” The rumble in his tone sent a shiver down your spine.

You exhale shakily, cheeks flushed red, ashamed of your own reaction.

“A-alright, i’ll think about it..” You responded, with a voice that was too high and more shaky than you would’ve liked.

He hummed, fingertips moving to the front before squeezing your clothed clit gently between two digits. “Try again, baby”.

A whimper slipped from your lips as your thighs instinctively squeezed shut, only to draw a breathy moan when the movement only made the sensation worsen for the better.

“Y-yes, daddy..” You breathed out pathetically.

“Good girl” he responded, his eyes were now focused on the road. Though, his hand stayed between your legs.

You didn’t know what to expect when the front door opened. Maybe a sweet lady who would make you feel guilty for being a homewrecker. Or a weary, hollow-eyed woman who had long since stopped loving her husband. Perhaps even a striking, glamorous beauty—someone who only married him for the money.

Well, you certainly didn't expect to see the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. He looked like he just walked out of a Vogue magazine cover.

Broad shoulders, a solid chest, and arms that looked like they could hold the weight of the world without breaking a sweat. Defined muscles, sculpted but not exaggerated, hint at power without intimidation. His skin was a warm, rich brown, smooth and sun-kissed, complementing the deep chocolate of his eyes. But it was his smile—soft, warm, teasing—that made him truly ethereal.

His gaze rested at you tenderly while you stood there, gaping like an idiot.

“You must be..” He uttered, followed by your name, his voice smooth as silk, wrapping around each syllable like a slow, deliberate caress

Damn, even his voice was sinful.

Why the fuck did John cheat on him.

“Yes, um.. that's me, yeah.” You responded dumbly, blushing even harder when you heard him and John chuckle.

What should you introduce yourself as? John didn't rehearse anything with you-

“John told me a lot about you,” He said before you could break down and tell him everything about how you had been sleeping with his husband.

“I’m Kyle, by the way” he added, extending his hand for you to shake.

You shook his hand and hoped that your palm wasn't as sweaty as you thought it was.

He didn't let go until you did. And when he did, his touch lingered.

Or perhaps it was just in your head.

The light above caught a glint of the ring on his finger. A ring similar to John’s.

You shifted your gaze away from it.

“Come in, then,” Kyle said as he stepped aside.

As you walked through the door, you saw John kissed him tenderly out of the corner of your eyes. You chose to focus on admiring the interior of the house, looking anywhere but at them.

The atmosphere inside was calm, steady, a quiet sanctuary from the rest of the world. It wasn’t extravagant or overly decorated, but it still felt homey.

Made you feel like an intruder.

“John said you like pasta,” You sensed Kyle’s presence beside you which took you by surprise. His hand was placed at the small of your back as he escorted you to the kitchen.

The touch felt more intimate than it should. But you were too confused by everything to think much of it.

The dining table was set with effortless charm, set with care but without unnecessary formality. Multiple plates of steaming truffle pasta were arranged neatly; the rich, earthy aroma wafting through the air.

You were still trying to figure out what was happening. For what reason did John invite you here, what kind of stuff had he told his husband about you.

From what you were seeing, you could assume that this was a casual dinner. It also seemed that John had been talking about you to Kyle a lot, but why? Wouldn't it make Kyle suspicious? Maybe that was why John invited you over, to get Kyle to lower his guard by knowing you, your previous theory might be correct. But the way Kyle acted towards you was odd, there was no hint of jealousy in his eyes. If anything, he greeted you way too nicely than he should-

Everything was too confusing, you should just stop thinking.

“Oh- sorry, i didn't bring anything-” You replied as you looked up at Kyle with wide eyes.

Kyle exhaled an amused chuckle as he pulled out a chair for you to sit. “Why do you need to bring anything?” He responded with a teasing tone.

“Well.. um.. to be polite..?” You said after you sat, voice becoming quieter at the end of your sentence. Two pairs of eyes locked onto you, making you fidget in your seat.

“Cute.” Kyle simply said with a smile.

John smiled and reached out to caress your legs beneath the table as a gesture to calm you down.

A simple touch that sent heat rushing through you, the impropriety of doing it discreetly in front of his husband only making it more titillating.

You chose to shift your focus to the plate in front of you as you tried to keep calm, playing the role of a ‘friend’ or whatever John had told Kyle about you.

The dinner went better than you thought it would. At least on the surface, with how the two men seemed to be treating you kindly, even if on the inside, you felt like a sinner at the church.

You expected Kyle to ask more about you, but that didn't happen. It was like he knew about you already, asking you about your job and things that had been going on in your life like he was catching up with some old friend instead of talking with his husband’s mistress, even though he probably didn't know about that. 

But even with how welcoming Kyle was, and how John was kind to you like he usually was, you still felt like an outsider. You couldn't help but notice how John always reached out to touch Kyle, whether to pass something or just a gesture he did when he talked. While Kyle looked at John like he hung the moon, smiling with each word uttered by the older man.

They made sure to include you in the conversation, but you couldn't help but be reminded of your position.

They were married, bound together by vows, the promise of forever, witnessed by the weight of rings on each other's fingers. 

While you were..

A temporary pleasure, a pretty thing to warm John’s bed. A secret folded between late-night pleasure and stolen hours, never meant to see the light of day. He whispered sweet nothings, traced promises on your skin with the same lips that uttered his wedding vows.

You knew it, deep down. You were excited, the rush of something forbidden, the fire that burned bright but was never meant to last.

Then, your mind reeled back to the questions you had in your head ever since John said he wanted to invite you over. You still weren't sure of the reason, as you could only assume.

What was his reason? Was it really to convince Kyle that you were nothing to worry about? Or was it to show you that you were truly nothing to him.

Kyle laughed at a particularly awful dad joke John made, while you sat there in silence, lost in the whirlwind of thoughts crowding your mind.

Thoughts that gave you a headache.

And heartache.

You weren’t possessive of John like he was with you. But you were jealous—not of Kyle, but of what they had. Pushing aside John’s infidelity, you longed for what you were seeing right now.

Your eyes drifted to the rings on their fingers, and felt the lack of weight on your own.

You were a nobody.

“Sorry, i need to use the bathroom,” You stood up a bit too quickly, causing the chair to scrape against the floor with a sharp noise.

You winced. Both at the sound, and the way your heart clenched. No, don't cry. Not right now. Not in front of them.

“Come, i’ll show you where it is,” Kyle replied with a kind smile that sent a pang to your heart.

“I’ll clean these up,” John said as he stood and collected the dishes. He then walked around to give Kyle a peck on his lips before he headed to the kitchen.

With barely a glance towards you.

It was for the better, you thought. So his husband wouldn't suspect a thing, so you wouldn't get your hopes up.

“This way,” You heard Kyle say, standing nearby as he gestured to the hallway.

You could only smile and nod in response before you headed your way.

Lost in your thoughts, about what would happen after, what should happen after. 

Should you put an end to this? Stop wrecking the happiness you just witnessed from the sidelines. The rational part of you said, yeah. But your heart was already attached to John.

Thought after thought occupied your mind as you walked down the hall and into the bathroom before heading for the sink to clear your mind.

Too lost in your head to notice footsteps following you from behind.

A presence followed you in, locking the door behind.

At the sound of the click, you looked up, only to catch Kyle's reflection in the mirror as he approached from behind.

Strong arms wrapped around your waist, chin on your shoulder with his cheek pressing against yours. 

And you froze, couldn't speak, stopped thinking.

“What’s with the pout?” He cooed with a disarming smile that made his eyes squint. His hand reached up to tug on your lower lip with his thumb.

“W-what?” You managed to break out of your shock with an embarrassing squeak.

His chest rumbled against your back as he chuckled in response.

“I was hoping to see this cute smile in person,” He continued as he pulled out a phone from his pants, showing you the pictures you took this morning, an innocent selfie–safe for the cleavage peeking out the collar of your blouse. The one you sent John.

That phone.. John’s phone.

You felt your heart drop, colors drained from your face.

“..You knew” you stammered.

And before he could say anything, you started to blabber. “I-i’m sorry.. sorry i’m- i know i shouldn't- i know it’s wrong”.

Your eyes teared up as the grip around your waist tightened. And you were reminded that the person behind you was a strong man who could snap you in half if he wanted to.

“Hey.. ssh..” his voice was soothing you as he turned you around, one hand rested on the sink beside you as the other went up to wipe your tears.

No hint of anger in his tone, just a tinge of amusement.

A thumb pressed against your lips to stop you from apologizing. “You're sorry..?” He asked with a tilt of his head, smirk on his lips.

You nodded shakily, holding back a whimper when he leaned closer.

Firm lips pressing against your trembling one, his hand cupped your cheek to keep you still. Not that it was needed with the way you froze.

Eyes wide as you could only stand there and let him savor your lips.

It was gentle, soft, almost.. sweet. Yet, you were left breathless when he broke the kiss.

He didn't back off all the way, pressing his nose against yours. His warm gaze locked onto you as he slowly licked his lips, savoring the lingering taste of you.

And your eyes couldn't help but follow the movement of his tongue.

Whatever thoughts that bothered you before were now thrown out of the window.

“Hmm.. prove it then,” he purred, warm breath caressed your lips as the timbre of his voice went straight to your core.

Your cheeks felt too warm for your liking. “..What?”.

His hand went down, but your eyes stayed locked to his. Even when you heard the familiar smooth whirr of metal teeth separating, accompanied by a faint rasp of fabric shifting.

“I said prove it, baby,” he murmured as he pulled back only to push you down on your knees by your shoulder.

One hand caressed your cheek, while the other held the base of his hardening cock in front of you, tapping the tip against your lips.

You jolted instinctively. Wet lashes fluttered as your doe eyes widened, looking up to meet his. That same charming smile from when he first greeted you lingered on his lips—but now, it carried a different weight. His pupils, blown wide with something else, sent a message that made you hold your breath.

“I’d call John over, but I'd rather have you to myself right now,” he purred as he pressed the tip of his cock between your lips, rubbing but not pushing any further.

..What is going on?

John would definitely notice both of your prolonged absences, he would eventually search for you- for Kyle-

This is wrong on so many levels, being in this position with your.. sugar-daddy’s husband, someone who should have despised you when he found out about your status as the mistress.

Push him away. Your conscience whispered.

But.. 

You had already become a willing participant in something scandalous from the moment you met John. Did you even have the right to weigh morality now, when the lines between right and wrong had long since blurred?

And who were you to refuse a command from such a fine man standing before you?

Your doe-like eyes trailed up his figure, taking in the lean muscles wrapped in a tight shirt, the faint happy trail leading downward, the sharp cut of his jaw, and that devilish smile playing at his lips.

Saliva pooled in your mouth, a drop slipped out the side and dripped down your chin as you parted your lips to suckle on the tip of his cock shyly.

“I know you could do better than that..” he murmured. Fingers pressed against your jaw, thumb and forefinger applying just enough pressure to part your lips. A slow, deliberate motion—prying them open with ease.

A soft moan escaped your lips as he eased in, inch by inch, stretching the warmth of your mouth.

He was gentle, pushing but not forcing. Giving you an illusion of control when you both knew who was truly in charge. Contrasting with John, who always made it clear from the start that he would break you apart, but also familiar in a way that they both intended to make a mess out of you.

Oh god.. John.

He was outside this bathroom, probably somewhere nearby. It should scared you, the fact that he might come knocking at the door only to find his side chick sucking on his husband's dick.

But..

You were too occupied to worry about that right now.

“That’s it.. good girl..” He cooed when you were an inch away from taking all of him. The praise sent a slow, simmering heat, curling deep in your core, you could feel yourself being embarrassingly wet just from having his cock in your mouth.

His fingers caressed your cheek down to your jaw, a small gesture of commendation that made you long for more. Wanted him to tell you how good you were for him, to have those long fingers caress your scalp as you pleasure him.

So you loosened your jaw further, letting your throat relax before pushing forward until your nose was nestled against the neatly trimmed curls at the base.

You preened when you heard him groan.

“Attagirl baby..” he rasped as he patted your head, an innocent gesture that made you shiver.

You wanted more of that, wanted him to praise you more, to be a good girl for him so he would reward you. 

His hand rested atop your head—not gripping, pulling, or pushing. A silent command lingered in the touch, a wordless expectation for you to do your job while he watched.

And you obeyed.

Slurping up the precum and saliva that slicked his length, your tongue glided along each pulsing vein, tracing every ridge as you slowly pulled back. When you withdrew, you extended your tongue further, the pointed tip teasing over his frenulum with deliberate precision. Wide, doe-like eyes gazed up at him, making you look so utterly docile—obedient and eager to please, silently pleading for more praise.

And it was so nice of him to give it to you.

“Look at you, so pretty taking my cock like that.. you’re enjoying this, aren’t you? don’t worry baby, i’ll give you more.. just keep going.. oh.. that’s it..” He kept uttering praises that made you moan softly around his cock.

Leaning back in, your eyes fluttered to a shut as you focused entirely on his pleasure—willing to give your all if it meant earning more of those sweet praises.

But then, he gripped your hair and tugged you away, making you let go of him with a lewd pop as you whined.

“None of that, baby. Keep those pretty eyes open,” He scolded. His tone was gentle, yet the commanding words made you instinctively straighten your spine, nodding in quiet obedience.

He smiled before loosening his grip and let you continue.

With his words in mind, you kept your gaze locked onto his, never looking away as you worked to please him with your mouth.

Slurping, sucking, licking, swallow. Memorizing each twitch and breath, making  mental note of any precise movements that pulled those deep, satisfied groans from his lips.

Relishing every praise uttered between the sound of pleasure.

Soon enough, you quickened your pace, bobbing your head fast the moment you felt him twitch. Desperate to coax him over the edge and feel him shooting his load down your throat.

With every nudge of his cock against the back of your throat, your pussy clenched. And you shifted on your knees, pressing your thighs together in a desperate attempt to quell the heat simmering between them.

And how kind of him to notice—even more so when he lifted his leg, tilting his ankle just enough to press the arch of his foot firmly against your aching heat.

An embarrassing whine muffled by his cock as he moved his foot side to side, rubbing your sensitive clit. Your eyes rolled back when he pressed his foot further up to press against your cunt before dragging it back and forth. Giving you a slow, torturous sensation that got you dripping.

Hands gripped his pants as your hips rolled against the slope of his foot to chase the pleasure.

It was embarrassing, to get yourself off of someone’s foot. But you were desperate, squeezing your legs together to trap him there as you continued to grind. Pathetic whines and moans slipped from your lips every time your clit caught on your underwear, or when you ground your hips down just right.

But then, he pulled his foot away and you almost sobbed at the sudden loss.

“Ah ah, don’t get distracted..” He tutted, hand reaching up to push your hair out of your face before trailing down to your lips which were still wrapped around his cock.

You bat your eyelashes at him, a pitiful muffled whimper slipped past your lips in a feeble attempt at an apology. Feeling sorry for getting temporarily lost in chasing your own pleasure that you forgot about his.

His smile widened in response as he trailed his fingers down to your jaw, a gesture that commanded you to continue the previous ministration.

As you started moving your head again, he put his foot back between your legs to rub against your clothed cunt.

With your hips grinding down at the same pace as your head, you tried your best to split your focus. But it was getting harder and harder with how he moved his foot like so- rubbing and pressing your clit as the slope dragged itself back and forth against your throbbing pussy, teasing between your folds.

You worked your mouth on him as you kept trying to build up the heat that intensified in your core. Doing both simultaneously as you were afraid he might rip the sensation away if you didn't satisfy him enough, just like before.

“You close yet, baby?” His voice purred as he moved his foot against you some more.

A squeak escaped your lips as a thrill shot up your spine. Your nails dug into his hips as you ground your pussy against him, hard.

And then you felt him moving his foot to the side, tugging the edge of your panties to push it aside before grinding directly against your bare cunt. Then, you felt the tip of his toes pressing against the entrance which became the final push that sent you over the edge.

You moaned wantonly around his cock as your legs buckled. Gasping through your nose as you struggled to breathe with him deep in your throat. Unable to keep up with the waves of pleasure that hit you.

A distant echo of Kyle’s voice was heard behind the blood rushing through your ears.

“That's it..” He praised.

You slurped around his cock as you kept moving your head.

“Making a mess of yourself..” he continued in a seductive whisper.

You swallowed with him deep in your throat, making him twitch as he groaned.

“Good fucking girl..” He grunted as he put one hand against your throat, cradling in a way like you were nothing more than submissive.

Spit inevitably coated the underside of your chin, lining the ridges of your throat.

Then, his head hung back, relishing the sensation as he teetered over the edge. His cock throbbed with the intense release, shooting thick ropes of white down your throat.

Tears welled at the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision as they clung to your lashes. But you couldn't pull away with his hand keeping your head still, making you take every drop of his cum.

“Take it all, doll.. but don't swallow,” he commanded with that smooth voice of his, which was way more soothing than it should be.

And you obeyed.

Pliant when he finally pulled your head back until his softening cock slipped out your lips with a wet, obscene pop.

You let him tilt your head up before prying your mouth open. Your gaze, glazed and unfocused as he drank in your wrecked state.

On your knees, basking in the afterglow after getting off on a man’s foot, saliva and cum trailing down your chin.

Then, he spit into your mouth.

“Swallow”.

And just like before, you obeyed.

If you didn't feel dirty being his husband's mistress, you sure did now.

Again, what's with you and married men recently.

The door clicked shut, his lips curling into a satisfied smile.

Kyle couldn't help but chuckle at the fresh memory of your face in his mind. And while he wanted nothing more than to be by your side, you wouldn't let him.

And since he was in a good mood (thanks to you), he decided to indulge, letting you be when he noticed how flustered you were—too overwhelmed to bear another second in his presence.

So when you pushed him out, he left and let you clean yourself alone in the bathroom, letting you gather your thoughts.

“How was it?” He heard John speak from where the older man sat on the couch.

“Better than it should, if i say so myself,” Kyle approached and gave him a quick peck before taking a seat beside him. “I was just going to talk to her, but.. i couldn't hold myself back.”

Before John could respond, a continuous buzz was heard.

Kyle pulled out his phone and accepted the call before putting it on speaker mode.

“Fuck ye, should’ve said somethin’ about the lass comin’ o’er.” Thick scottish accent came through the speaker.

John chuckled at the complaints. “Don't want to overwhelm her yet, Mactavish."

“Ya fuckin' dobber- Come on, Simon! Hit the fucking gas. We’re headin’ back home whether they like it or not,” His yelling rang loudly through the line, even if it was directed at someone from his side.

Looks like the other two were ending their date early.

open taglist : @skeletonsucker, @niazrzl, @iiriam, @katerinaval, @chickennn-soupp, @massivescissorsthingperson, @dreamland08, @massivescissorsthingperson, @brittney-121, @kukavittu, @noheadcanons-juststories, @z-wantstowrite, @uraeus56, @tellme-im-pretty, @prettygirleevee, @pisiksukedk, @nathanmcr, @honestlymassivetrash, @stupidonme, @tribbisweetdear, @bluetokie, @babybimbo777, @aneternallyexhaustedpigeon, @avavie, @angelsdemonsmonsters, @cupcake4440, @herefor-tojis-tits, @axulaphie, @h0e-02, @lucienofthelakes, @goodbyegh0st, @cryingdevil, @pink-princess-amara, @kittygonap, @wiciclesatmidnight, @kat-m-syd, @russianeifelltower, @mothmothmothmothmothmoth, @candlelight-reading, @feral-postings

Next (soon)

[tbaluver]

Hello! Love your writing for the LADS men!! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟFor a request, I'm wondering how do you think they'd take our ring size when he's decided to propose? Thank you! ♡

How They Get Your Ring Size- The Love And DeepSpace Men

featuring ( in order ): xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus, caleb genre: fluff fluff a/n: hihi anonnie! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ this is such a cute request i hope i did it justice ! ♡(˃͈ ˂͈ ) oh to be married to them is such a dream .·°՞(¯□¯)՞°·. i hope you this was alright and that you enjoy reading! (∩˃o˂∩)♡⋆˚✿˖° any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

Xavier would unfortunately end up asking Tara for help. As much as he wants to handle this alone, he knows he can’t risk the ring not fitting when the big moment comes. Xavier's determined to make that day perfect and memorable for you if it means getting the size right and talking to your friend. While he knows Tara is a close friend of yours, he doesn’t quite understand why she’s so excited, like she’s the one who’s about to propose.

He keeps the conversation brief. The plan is simple, Tara takes you out window shopping, guiding you toward the rings and trying to figure out your size without you suspecting anything. Once she sends the info to Xavier, he won’t have to hear from her again, at least he hopes.

Zayne:

As Zayne gets ready for work, he quietly approaches your jewelry box. He knows how much you cherish the promise ring he gave you, given how much you wear it, and though Zayne remembers your size, he figures it wouldn’t hurt to be sure. Carefully, he slips your promise ring along with his mother’s engagement ring he planned to give you into his pocket.

A small smile curls on his lips when his phone buzzes with your message, asking if he knows where your ring went with a string of multiple apologies. He smiles, knowing how often you wear and treasure it. He can’t help but picture how perfect it would look with his mother’s engagement ring.

Rafayel:

Beads of sweat trickle down his forehead as you softly snore beside him. He carefully reaches for your hand, his fingers trembling as he attempts to slip a thin string around your ring finger. However, each time he nearly finds the size, you shift or make a sound, making his heart race. He freezes in his spot, convinced you’ll wake up and catch him in the act, ruining everything. He curses Thomas internally for giving him this idea.

In the end, he decides to take matters into his own hands. He’s crafted many things for you, including the jewelry he gifted you. He crafts several rings in different sizes, so when you’re fast asleep, he’ll quietly slip one on your ring finger, testing to see which fits just right.

Sylus:

Getting your ring size wasn’t a challenge for him. He didn’t even have to break a sweat. After all, he’s given you plenty of rings over the years to know exactly what size you wear. All he needed to do was take one of them to the jeweler, double-check the size, and make sure the wedding ring design matched what you’ve been dreaming of.

Finding the right design was almost easy. Sylus always pays attention to the styles you like and preferences but wants to make sure. Luckily, he has a little crow who watches over your shoulder and keeps him updated with all the details. Sylus can pick out the perfect ring with that info, making everything just right when the proposal day comes.

Caleb:

Caleb would use nostalgia as a benefit for this scenario. “Hey, pipsqueak….doesn’t this ring look like the one we used to play house with when we were kids?” He gives a soft chuckle, holding the ring out to you. Little did you know that he purposely designed it to resemble the childhood ring just so he could estimate your size, all while keeping his cover under wraps.

His heart beats loudly, and he hopes you don’t hear how loud the thumps are in his chest. “Let’s see if it still fits.” He tilts his head with a soft smile as he gently takes your hand and slips the ring onto your finger. “Well, how does it feel, Miss Pipsqueak? Too tight orr too loose?” He asks with a playful smile, hoping it will mask his nervousness while mentally taking notes for the jeweler later.

ʚɞ cr. for the divider @/ cafekitsune

ʚɞ thank you to my beta reader @ilovemitsuya (˵˘ ³˘˵) ᯓᡣ𐭩 MWAH

ʚɞ my other works if you want to check it out! Love And DeepSpace Masterlist, Pg. 2

[kyri45]

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[bowtiepasta]

NOT EVEN DEATH FT. ATSUMU MIYA

I don’t like to gossip — but a little birdie told me the best man is head over heels for the maid of honor.

eventual smut! minors do not interact with nsfw chapters. indulging: smau with loads of written content, best friends to lovers, f!reader with she pronouns, matchmaking, grief, angst, drama, check individual chapter warnings before reading.

taglist is open! comment on this post to be tagged (32/50)

MAIN STORY

listen while you read: series playlist / atsumu on aux

chapter zero — meet the cast.

dude, we’re getting the band back together!

chapter one — bonnie and clyde.

bachelorette parties, gender reveals. are we allowed to have strippers at both or would that be entirely wrong?

chapter two — mrs. iwaizumi.

after one too many emotional toasts and one too many champagne flutes at kiyoko’s wedding, you decide to play matchmaker. (written part included)

chapter three — quid pro quo.

grief is complicated. so is talking about it with your ex.

chapter four — semantics.

bad omens, old flames, and misunderstandings, seem to all go hand in hand at suna’s wedding.

chapter five — monkey brain.

time goes funny in places like graveyards. — a flashback chapter (written part included)

chapter six — o’ wise cupid.

the weekend winds down, the tension finally snaps, and you and atsumu give in—messy, breathless, long overdue.

chapter seven — orange juice.

tba

chapter eight — at last.

tba

epilogue — delta dawn.

tba

SIDE STORIES

osamu miya — title pending 18+

you didn’t mean to babytrap your friend with benefits. but he doesn’t seem to mind? in fact, he seems more than keen on the situation at hand. or should I say, fingers.. (wc tba)

tba…

consider reblogging, commenting, or sending an ask if you enjoyed. thank you for reading not even death ! ❤︎ do not copy, edit, repost, or translate, any of my content on any platforms.

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[syluslnd]

Hello, I love your headcanons! May I ask for a S/O who secretly doesn't feel attractive??. Until one day they say "I'm so lucky to have you, even tho I'm not pretty" as if they are used to it. Thanks!

Sylus reaction to his S/O who is insecure

You're sitting across from Sylus, having a casual conversation, sipping on tea while he casually scrolls through something on his tablet. It's a peaceful moment, his presence grounding as always but your mind drifts for a second. Absentmindedly, you say “I'm so lucky to have you... even though I'm not pretty."

The words slip out so casually but they hit Sylus like a ton of bricks. His head snaps up and for a moment, there's disbelief in his dark eyes, as though he can't believe what he just heard. His gaze sharpens and without saying a word, he sets his tablet aside.

"Kitten" he says, his voice low and commanding “what did you just say?"

You blink, a little startled by the intensity in his tone. "What? I'm just saying... I'm lucky, you could have someone way more beautiful!"

Before you can react, Sylus stands and pulls you onto him with a firm but gentle grip.You're pressed against his chest and his eyes lock onto yours, intense and unwavering.

"Sweetie, I don't ever want to hear you say that again”he says, his voice a mix of frustration and something softer, more protective. His hands cup your face, tilting it toward his and he presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, then your cheeks, then your lips. "You have the prettiest face" he murmurs between kisses, his voice dropping to a husky whisper "and it's all mine."

You can't help but flush under his attention but before you can protest, Sylus grabs your wrist gently, lifting your hand to his lips.

"These hands" he says, kissing your palm "are the prettiest l've ever seen. I love every little part of them." His lips travel down to each finger, teasingly slow, making sure you feel every kiss.

"Sylus, I-" you start to protest, but he silences you with a mischievous grin, his teasing only intensifying.

"Oh, l'm not done" he says, his voice playful yet firm. He runs his hands along your sides, letting them rest on your waist for a moment before pulling you closer. "This waist?Prettiest waist l've ever touched” he purrs, his hands traveling lower until they settle on your hips.

He grips you firmly, not letting you squirm away as his lips press against the curve of your stomach. "And don't even get me started on this tummy, kitten. Prettiest thing I've ever laid my hands on."

You're starting to blush harder now, squirming under his relentless teasing but Sylus's hands slip down to your thighs, his touch sending a shiver up your spine.

"And these thighs?" he says, his voice dipping lower, full of amusement and affection. "Sweetie, I could write poetry about how pretty they are."

"Sylus..." you mumble, flustered and trying to hide your face but he's not having it. He tilts your chin back up, his thumb brushing over your lips.

"Say it" he commands softly, though there's a teasing edge in his tone. "Say you're pretty."

You try to resist, biting your lip but Sylus leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "I'll keep going, kitten. Every inch of you is beautiful and I'll remind you of that until you say it yourself."

Your heart races as he kisses your collarbone, his hands still tracing your body as though each part of you deserves a special touch. Finally, after what feels like an eternity of teasing, you manage to whisper,

"I'm pretty."

Sylus smirks, satisfied but not done yet.

"Louder."

You blush deeper, but the way he's looking at you-like you're the most precious thing he's ever seen-gives you courage. "I'm pretty."

He chuckles softly, his hand cupping your cheek once more. "Damn right you are and don't you ever forget it."

[dollishmehrayan]

# TAKE EVERYTHING AS IT WAS WRITTEN FOR YOU ── .✦ ( batboys x writer!reader who writes ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ )

dollish note ౨ৎ: hey so I’m back from the dead apparently, anywaysss omgg I missed you guys Hii and I will posting more content from now on and taking this seriously and these past days I was super stressed out over moving but hey my lovess anyways I decided to base this writer s/o over like anyone, like whether you write fan fic like me or write actual books, it matters to this hcs !! Tags: (batboys x writer!s/o)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

# DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

He loves that you're a writer ( listen he just LOVESSS creative women like hello !? God forbid a guy likes creative people 🫠) he's your #1 fan and biggest hype man.

Tries to read your work over your shoulder while you're typing, even if you hate it “Babe, I need to know what happens next!” Like constantly over your shoulder seeing what you’re drafting and etc.

Occasionally offers cheesy plot ideas like “what if the love interest also knows parkour?” (His ideas suck)

Will 100% brag to everyone: “Yeah, my partner’s a genius novelist. Ever heard of them? You will.” OOOOO

Falls asleep listening to you ramble about story arcs and character development. It's his favorite sound.

Writes you little encouraging notes like, “You got this, Hemingway 💪” and sticks them on your laptop / tablet or wtv you have bbg.

# JASON TODD ── .✦

Loves your dark, gritty writing especially if there's violence, angst, or moral grayness involved since a lot of people don’t write angst that casually.

Offers surprisingly insightful edits or plot ideas: “This villain's motivation is weak. Give them a tragic backstory and don’t make them redeemable.”

Low-key wants you to base a character on him but will pretend he doesn’t care.

Has a soft spot for reading your fluff pieces though and will be quietly emotional about them.

Will threaten anyone who leaves bad reviews on your work. "Just say the word. Username 'Booktoklover93'? I got 'em."

He buys you fancy notebooks and pens and acts like it's no big deal, but he's proud of himself.

# TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Absolute king of writing dates you'll both sit in a café typing furiously and sipping terrible coffee.

Helps you fact-check obscure things at 3am without complaint (okay, maybe some complaint).

If you write mystery or thrillers, he treats it like solving a real case. “Wait… that clue in chapter 5…”

He totally has a secret folder on his computer labeled “[Your Name]’s Writing – Favorite Stuff” with all your pieces saved.

You’ve accidentally inspired him to write fanfic once and he WILL take that secret to the grave.

Sends you prompts or memes like “this is so your OC.” (Sorry I just keep cringing at oc 🥲)

# DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

At first, he might not get why you write fictional stories… but then he reads them.

He's completely blown away and demands to know what happens next immediately.

Occasionally critiques your logic but ends up emotionally invested in your characters.

“Why did you kill him off?” Because it served the story—” “You’re a monster.”

Will sit next to you while you write, drawing or sketching your characters in his own style.

Has probably told Alfred he thinks you’re a genius at least once when he thought no one was listening.

# BONUS WHICH MR WAYNE! ── .✦

Loves that you're creative and has the patience of a saint when listening to you rant about plot holes.

He doesn’t read everything you write, but when he does, he’ll quote it back to you at random times like a proud husband.

“Chapter 7 really showed growth. I was impressed.”

Offers to fund your writing career or self-publishing venture without blinking. “You’ll need an editor and marketing team.” SIGN ME UP !!

He also gently reminds you to eat and sleep when you’re on a deadline: “You’ve been writing for 16 hours. Come to bed and go to sleep.”

[uhuhmaries]

Two Night Stand

Summary: After a wild, unforgettable night with Harry Styles in Tokyo, you thought that was it. No number exchanged, no promises made. But somehow, he finds you. A message leads to a date, and a date leads to more than either of you expected. What begins as lust turns into something deeper, with Harry craving more than just your body—he wants to know what truly undoes you. One night, one connection… and it might not end in Tokyo after all.

If you’re new here, HELLO!!!! Check out my masterlist to see the first two chapters!

Warnings: NSFW / 18+ (honestly nothing is really going on here just cute stuff and tensions), is going out on a date with Harry while having a shitty situationship back home is considered as cheating???

⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹

You have returned to your room, the morning still barely stirring outside your window. The walls feel too cold. The silence, too loud. You thought you'd feel relief walking away—cleaner, somehow—but your skin still burns where his hands were.

You shower again. Not because you need to, but because you're trying to scrub the memory off. Except it clings harder than soap.

And worse, your friends are still sleeping, but you can't stop refreshing your phone. The blurry photo’s has been making rounds online, and your heart does somersaults every time you read the caption.

“Harry Styles’ mysterious Tokyo guest: fan or fling?”

You want to laugh. Or scream. Maybe both.

That night, you don’t sleep. You write drafts of messages you’ll never be able to send. “Thank you for everything.” “This is wild. I hope you’re okay.” “Is this over?” But none feel right.

You settle into the day like a ghost. Pretending. But your body remembers him.

Three nights later, just as you're slipping into a restless sleep, your phone buzzes.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: “You still in Tokyo?”

Your breath catches. You already know it’s him.

You’ve opened the message, but your thumbs hover uncertainly over your phone. You don’t know if you should respond—or if you should stick to your decision to keep things uncomplicated.

After a few minutes of pacing the room, heart pounding, you finally cave:

YOU: “How did you even get my number?”

HS: “I’m... charming, remember? Also, your name isn’t exactly hard to find.”

You exhale slowly, torn between smiling and rolling your eyes.

YOU: “Let’s not do this, Harry. I’m sorry about the photo. Being seen outside your hotel wasn’t intentional. I hope you and your team didn’t catch too much heat because of me.”

You let out a sigh, sinking onto the edge of your bed. If you’re honest with yourself… you do want to be back in his arms. Who wouldn’t? It’s Harry Styles. Anyone would throw themselves at the chance. But this—whatever this is—was never supposed to happen.

Your phone buzzes again.

HS: “Let me take you on a date. If we can’t even get through one real conversation, we’ll leave it there. But I need you to know… it’s not just physical for me. I feel like there’s something here.”

Your heart stutters, fluttering like you’re fifteen again. It’s embarrassing how fast it happens. Like you’re back in middle school screaming One Way or Another into a hairbrush.

Just as your fingers brush the keyboard, about to say yes…

“Hey!” one of your friends calls from the kitchen. You jump slightly, caught off guard.

You quickly lock your phone and walk out of the room.

“So… you’re back,” she says, raising a brow with a sly grin. “Can you talk about it? Or did they hit you with an NDA like we always joked about?”

You laugh under your breath. “Shockingly, no paperwork. I think we left things on decent terms.” You pause, then glance around like you’re double-checking you’re really saying this out loud. “I didn’t give him my number. But… he found me. He’s asking to see me. A real date.”

Your friend’s eyebrows shoot up, and you can already tell she’s ready with opinions.

You bite your lip, voice quieter now. “I don’t know what to do. I mean… I didn’t expect any of this. It’s already complicated.”

But the way your voice lingers on that last word? It’s clear you’re hoping she tells you to go.

Because part of you is already halfway there.

“Y/N… it’s Harry Styles.”

Your friend grabs your hands, eyes wide, voice low but emphatic like she’s trying to knock some sense into you. “You’re leaving Tokyo in two days. Might as well make him your Tokyo fling. That’s all I’m gonna say.”

You blink at her, half-laughing. But she’s not wrong.

Why are you overthinking this?

You glance toward your phone on the counter, the screen still dark. No new messages.

Not from him.

The one back home.

Of course, he hasn’t reached out. Not since the first moment you even looked at Harry. And still… it’s always the same damn cycle. He’s emotionally distant, you’re emotionally complicated, and somehow you always end up falling right back into that almost-relationship that never gives you anything real. Just enough to stay. Never enough to thrive.

And then there’s Harry.

Who looked at you like he meant it. Who touched you like he knew you, but you know. It will never work.

You swallow hard. Suddenly, your fingers itch for the phone in your back pocket. You pull it out, stare at his message one more time, and then you type:

YOU:

“Sure. What the hell. I’m leaving in two days anyway. Might as well make it count.”

You barely have time to breathe before it buzzes in your hand.

HS:

“Two days? That’s all I get?”

You smirk, heartbeat quickening, and type back:

YOU:

“Take it or leave it.”

Another pause—then:

HS:

“Taking it. Send me your hotel. I’m picking you up at 7 sharp.”

You bite your lip, screen still lit in your hand. The nerves are loud now.

Excited. Dangerous. Alive. Your friend’s voice echoes in your mind:

Might as well make it your Tokyo fling.

You do feel guilty, of course. But then again… sometimes you have to take a leap of faith. You give the name of your hotel and room number without thinking.

⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹

You spend the whole afternoon pacing, rifling through your suitcase like a woman possessed. Nothing feels quite right—too casual, too much, too desperate. But just when you’re about to give up and settle for something safe, fate offers you a little gift.

Tucked beneath a pile of worn T-shirts and folded denim is the dress. You don’t even remember packing it—maybe it was wishful thinking—but there it is: a navy-blue, backless dress with a high slit that kisses the curve of your thigh. Elegant, effortless, just a little dangerous. The kind of dress that feels like it was made for this moment.

You hold it up against your body and smirk to yourself in the mirror.

Perfect.

As the sun begins to dip below the Tokyo skyline, you slip it on, letting the silky fabric glide over your skin. You add a delicate pair of earrings, some gloss, and just a hint of perfume. Matching it with a pair of white kitten heels.

And under the dress?

White lace. Soft. Barely there.

Just in case.

You’ll never admit that part—not to him, not to your friends. Not even to yourself. But the way you smooth the fabric over your hips and check your reflection one more time tells the truth.

You want him to see you.

And maybe… maybe— undress you, too.

The knock comes at the perfect time.

When you open the door, he’s already there— leaning slightly against the frame like he owns the damn hallway. A black shirt hangs open just enough to tease the ink sprawled across his chest, sleeves rolled lazily to the elbows. A low-slung hat hides his eyes, but not his grin. The sunglasses are unnecessary, but somehow—on him—they work.

You swallow thickly, nearly losing your breath.

God, he looks like trouble.

Before you can say anything, Harry takes one step inside, quick and low like someone might be watching. His eyes drag down your body slowly—too slowly—before they flick back up to meet yours. There’s a beat of silence. Maybe two.

Then suddenly, his hand finds your waist like it belongs there, and his other palm cups your cheek as his mouth meets yours—hungry, deliberate, like it’s been years instead of hours. You melt into him before he pulls back with a breathless smile.

“You ready?” he murmurs.

You just nod.

He doesn’t let go of your hand as he walks you down the hallway and into the elevator. Your heart is thudding like it’s trying to crawl out of your chest, and you’re pretty sure he can feel it in your grip.

Outside, a sleek black car waits. He opens the door for you—of course he does—before circling around to the driver’s seat. As he starts driving through the Tokyo night, city lights flashing across the windshield, you feel his palm settle on your thigh. Casual. Familiar. Possessive.

The fabric of your dress gives way easily, and he pushes it aside to expose more skin. His thumb traces lazy circles, each stroke rising higher and slower. You glance over at him—one hand on the wheel, the other teasing your skin, jaw clenched like he’s fighting his own instincts. His tongue flicks over his bottom lip as he stares straight ahead.

“Harry,” you whisper, a warning.

“I know.” His voice is tight. “I’m trying to behave.”

You cross your legs—his hand trapped between your thighs—and smirk when he groans softly.

“I’m not helping, am I?”

“Not even a little bit.”

By the time you pull up to the restaurant, the tension is a third passenger. He gets out first and opens your door, helping you out with a hand on the small of your back.

Inside, the restaurant is dimly lit and draped in quiet opulence. You recognize a few faces—actors, models, names that make your chest flutter—but Harry doesn’t flinch. He nods to a few people, murmurs a polite “Evenin’,” and keeps his focus on you like you’re the only thing that matters.

The host brings you to a secluded corner table.

You sit. So does he.

And for a moment, there’s only silence between you as you both settle into this new version of each other—outside of hotel rooms and stolen moments.

You order drinks and food you barely look at.

Then he leans forward, resting his forearms on the table.

“You look stunning,” he says softly.

You flush, letting out a quiet laugh. “That’s… kinda basic.”

He smirks. “Not wrong, though.”

There’s a beat of quiet before you ask, “So… is this normal for you?”

“What, Tokyo flings?”

You shrug. “Hooking up with fans. Picking them up for dates the next day. Finding their numbers even when they never gave it to you.”

He chuckles, swirling the wine in his glass. “No. This is new.”

You raise a brow. “Seriously?”

He nods. “I don’t usually chase. But you…” He lifts his gaze to yours. “You left before I was done.”

You glance down at your plate, heart skittering. “That night wasn’t supposed to mean anything.”

“And yet here we are.” He pauses. “Unless… it didn’t mean anything to you?”

You hesitate.

“No. It meant something.” You meet his eyes. “Too much, actually. And it’s troubling because as we both know, I have someone back home.”

He leans back in his chair, quiet for a moment. “How is that going?”

“It’s… complicated,” you say, voice low. “Not official. Not fulfilling either. But still… something.”

Harry watches you for a moment, his fingers tapping lightly on his glass.

“I’m not asking for forever,” he finally says. “I just… don’t want this to be pretend. Not tonight.”

You let that settle between you. It shouldn’t feel this intense. You’re leaving. You’re not supposed to want this. But everything about him pulls you in like gravity.

“I want honesty, Harry,” you say quietly. “If you’re just being sweet to make the sex better, say it now. I can take it.”

His eyes flash. “Sometimes people can’t differentiate between sweet and polite. I’m not sweet, love. Not unless I mean it.”

Your breath catches at the way his voice dips, slow and thick.

You change the subject slightly, trying to cool the heat in your chest. “What would people think if they saw you here? With someone like me.”

He smiles. “They’ll think I have good taste.”

You roll your eyes, but your cheeks flush.

Dinner comes, but the food is just background. Conversation flows in between sips of wine and stolen glances—music, childhood memories, strange fan encounters, what Tokyo means to both of you. There’s laughter. There’s curiosity. And there’s that ever-present ache humming underneath it all.

By dessert, you’re no longer thinking about home.

By the time he pulls the car around again, your leg is draped over his, and his hand is under the slit of your dress again—this time, with more intention.

When he pulls up in front of your hotel, you don’t wait for him to open your door.

You open it yourself. Walk inside without a word.

He follows.

⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹ ࣪ ˖₊˚⊹⋆ ⊹

📝 Author’s Note:

THANK YOUUUUU to everyone who has shown support for the first two chapters!!!! I definitely going to lead this one more on the fluff and happy ending side. Every Y/N deserves a good life, I believe.

Ps. Next chapter will be filthy!!!!! 👀

[goooofy-goooober1121]

Good day! I'd like to request Rook with a snuggly S/O. When he stayed at Ramshackle for the VDC, Vil noted that he on average has slept in longer. Little does he know of the prefects nefarious deeds.

HELLO I'M SORRY FOR TAKING FOREVER FOR THIS I AM HERE NOW

I got you homie let's sabotage French Dora the Explorer

Requests are open! Please feel free to send asks!

Reblogs are always appreciated! <3

Tags: Fluff, gn!Reader, Vil being Vil, Rook is DOWN HORRENDOUS, French (😨)

W/C: 785

Five More Minutes

Vil Schoenheit was not a patient man. 

He wasn’t cruel by any means. Just punctual. Committed, as any good housewarden-- and actor-- should be. It was, of course, that timely and meticulous attitude that propelled him to take the reins of Pomefiore and grow such a large influence both in the movie industry and on Magicam. 

His vice housewarden, then, should have been the same. He was the same, following Vil around in awe of the beauty he exuded, pledging himself to fulfill Vil’s wishes so long as they lived. Rook Hunt, for all his eccentricities, was reliable, skilled.

Cut from the same cloth, some would say.

Well, standing in the living room of Ramshackle, Vil wasn’t so sure about that. Perfectly manicured nails tap his watch-- designer, of course-- impatiently. 6:15 AM. Rook had promised him he would convene with Vil sharply at six. Vil wasn’t worried, per se-- more like frustrated. Never once had Rook been late when Vil summoned him, and of course the first instance of tardiness would happen in the critical weeks before the VDC. 

He couldn’t imagine what was taking him so long. 

Rook Hunt was in a predicament.

A very snuggly, warm predicament. 

One that involved pillows, blankets, and a very sleepy lover. 

“Ma moitié,” he whispered, smiling. “You have made me late.”

“Mrphhh…” came your reply, arms twisting like fig vines around his body. 

Rook should have known he would have no chance of escaping the moment he walked into your room last night. It was innocent, really, under the pretense of stealing away precious time together amongst the chaos of the daytime preparations for the VDC. He should have gone back to his room the moment the cuddling made him sleepy. 

He didn’t, and now every time he shifted, your arms would only tighten. It was like struggling in quicksand; the harder you tried to get out, the faster you sank. 

Rook did, however, admit that he didn’t mind it-- not if that quicksand was you. 

“Ma moitié,” he repeated, chuckling. “Roi du Poison will be very unhappy.”

“Roi du Poison can get his own boyfriend,” you grumbled back, burying your face in his shoulder. “This one is mine.”

Rook laughed, his lips pressing gently to the crown of your head. “We will both be in trouble.”

“Fine by me. In sickness and in health, right? In diva fury and in morning snuggles.”

“I do believe that is a wedding vow, ma moitié. We are not married,” answered Rook. “Not yet.”

“I’m rehearsing,” you countered.

“You’re sluggish.”

“No,” you said, breathing in the faint scent of his body wash. “I’m expressing my undying love.”

Rook let out something between a scoff and a laugh, giving you a gentle squeeze. Even with half of your face buried deeply in his sleepshirt, you were beautiful. His eyes travelled appraisingly, adoringly, across your features as if he were inspecting a piece of art masterfully crafted and hung in his own personal museum. They began at your hair-- your wonderful hair that fell so flatteringly around your face. It always felt so lovely to touch, scented with that shampoo you always mention enjoying the scent of. Then his gaze travelled down to your brows. He thought those were just as worthy of reverence. The way they knitted when you focused on a task, the way they raised when you were happy or surprised-- even the way they curved into sad slopes when you cried. Those emotions of yours-- those big, beautiful, dynamic emotions-- simply ensnared him, and it was your brows that served as the vehicle of expression. He thanked them internally for allowing him to see you wholly. 

The way your lashes rested on your cheeks, rooted along your perfect eyes. The enchanting slope of your nose. The softness of your lips that always knew how to kiss him, what to say. Your angelic skin-- blemishes and all. 

You were utterly pulchritudinous. An absolute doll, inside and out. 

Rook had spent his entire life in search of true beauty. Laying beside you, with your warmth in his arms, he was sure he had found it. 

“Five more minutes,” came your sleepy voice. Even your slurred, sleep-syruped cadence set his heart aflame as though he had heard a most moving orchestral piece. “Please, Rook?”

And Rook smiled once more, settling himself further beneath your covers. He kissed you in that moment, reverentially and gently as though saluting a rose. It almost pained him to pull away and deprive himself of your lips-- though that moment of mourning melted away when you gazed upon him so sweetly.

Five more minutes with you was worth being scolded a hundred times over by Vil Schoenheit.

“I would be honored.”

A/N: Rook is such boyfriend material I wish French people were real

[gloomwitchwrites]

Hello! I read your Ghost NSFW alphabet and it was amazing!! (Actually I've just been reading a bunch of your posts for the past 3 days your writing it amazing!!) I was wondering if you can do an NSFW alphabet for Cpt.Price please!

Thank you so much, anon! I really appreciate that. Of course you can have a NSFW Alphabet for Price! Enjoy!

written w/ gn!reader

Word Count: 900

nsfw alphabet template

CoD Headcanons / AUs / Quick Writes Masterlist

A = Aftercare

A staunch cuddler. Price enjoys snuggling after sex, acting as a weighted blanket. He’s all about lazy touches and slow kisses, sprinkling you with soft words of affection as the two of you come down.

B = Body part

An ass man. No question. Price either has his hands on it or touching in some capacity. Positions that allow him to palm your ass as he fucks you are his favorite.

C = Cum

Enjoys seeing the aftermath. Watching his cum leak out of all your holes flames his ego. Spread those legs and/or cheeks. Open your mouth and show him your tongue. He wants to paint you with it.

D = Dirty secret

During his first experience with bondage, Price confidently said he could use rope, but totally lied, and stumbled through it to the point that he gave up and had vanilla sex. (He’s much better at it now.)

E = Experience

Very experienced, and he knows what he wants. Price isn’t afraid to tell you how he likes to be pleasured, and he’s not shy about asking you what you like, or exploring new things with you.

F = Favorite position

Any position that allows him to view your ass as he fucks you. He’ll even take a position that allows him to grip your ass if he can’t view it.

G = Goofy

During sex? No. Price might tease you a bit, but it’s always flirty. He wants you to smile, to enjoy yourself, but when it comes down to it, he’s all business.

H = Hair

Well-groomed but hairy. He has a lovely dusting of dark brown hair across his chest and down his stomach, thickening slightly around his navel where it transforms into a healthy happy trail and a decent bush around the base of his cock.

I = Intimacy

Incredible at intimacy, especially in the moment and during foreplay. The lead up to clothes coming off is hit or miss, but in the act, Price has his full attention on you. Lots of praise and appreciation for your body.

J = Jack off

Not a chronic masturbator, but certainly jerks himself off if you’re not available to take his dick.

K = Kink

Praise, primal, daddy, some forms of impact play, situational public sex

L = Location

A traditional man that likes to be at home while doing the act, but he won’t let an opportunity slip past him. He’s down to fuck at work if it’s a quickie, or take you in the back of his car.

M = Motivation

Physical affection gets him going. Wrap your arms around him, tease the back of his neck with your fingers, trace circles on his back. Intimate touch sends all the blood in his body down to his dick.

N = No

Piss play. Not into it.

O = Oral

Certified muncher/sucker. Price is a giver rather than a receiver though he won’t tell you no if you want to go down on him.

P = Pace

Price is the fast and rough type when he’s the one in charge. He might say sweet things to you, but you can bet he’s fucking your brains out at the exact same time.

Q = Quickie

Always down for a quickie. Hardly matters the time and place. Don’t need to say anything either. Present a hole for him and Price is diving right in.

R = Risk

Totally down to experiment as long as both parties are agreeable to the risk. Price is willing to try anything once but he won’t try something if you’re not into it.

S = Stamina

Decent stamina. He can go a few rounds but give the man some room to breathe between sessions.

T = Toys

Price does not own any toys. If he acquires any, it’s because you bought them, or you were insistent on trying some out. He won’t go out of his way to purchase them.

U = Unfair

Can be a bit of a tease, especially if he feels like edging you, but all of his teasing is really to get you going and turned on.

V = Volume

Price isn’t loud, but the man is a grunter/moaner. When he’s about to come, his eyes are closed and that man is moaning/groaning, completely lost in it.

W = Wild card

Dom!Price enjoys purchasing customized collars for his sub for all occasions. Real leather. Real metal. Engraved. Maybe some gems or diamonds.

X = Xtra

At first, Price didn’t understand the appeal to wearing a mask during sex, but after a few experiences with it, he grew to enjoy it, especially with how much you liked it. But he won’t ever admit that to Ghost or anyone on his team that he tried it out.

Y = Yearning

Price yearns for you all the time. No matter the time of day or night or the day of the week, Price is always thinking about you, and will accept any advances you send his way.

Z = Zzz

As a staunch post-sex cuddler, Price will absolutely crash out after sex quickly. Expect snoring, his arms around you, and don’t think about attempting to wiggle away from him. Any movement will only result in him pulling you close again. Won’t even wake up either.

CoD Headcanons / AUs / Quick Writes Masterlist

[creamecafe]

Hello! First of all I want to tell you that I love your writings ❤️ Second, I wanted to ask you if you can't place an order for Hyun-ju. I love that woman. I would like an Angst, I'll leave it to your imagination. thank you ✨✨✨✨

You're The Only Exception

Summary: Between wanting to be accepted and saving a life, Hyun-Ju takes comfort and finds hope in you as the only exception.

Pairing: Hyun-Ju x GN!Reader (No pronouns used)

Warnings: angst, mentions of transphobia, transphobic, guilt, the death of Young-Mi, she deserved better 😭😭

Word Count:

Author's Note: Thank you so much for requesting this, I hope you enjoy it! I didn't know whether to put for angst that people were looking at her weird bc she's trans or her feelings guilty for not saving Young-Mi in time, so I used both

Guys please understand that writing this, I'm a cis woman, AFAB, please do let me know if there's things to change up as I want to get trans representation right.

Want a request for a Squid Game character like this one? Check out my latest post, read my request guidelines and send a request!

Read on Wattpad & AO3 here

If being in the games was hard for anyone, it would be for Hyun-Ju. Looking for acceptance in a place where you're fighting for your life isn't ideal.

The only comfort and trust she could find was in you and Young-Mi. You felt bad for her as nobody wanted to team up with her or really talk to her. It would be nice to get out of your comfort zone.

For the second game, you teamed up with Hyun-Ju, an old lady and her son, a younger girl named Young-Mi. You survived thank God, but still wanted to know Hyun-Ju more.

Back in the dormitory, she was comfortable telling you and the team about her identity and her whole backstory.

"I accept you Hyun-Ju."

Those words stuck with Hyun-Ju. It's all she ever wanted, to be accepted for who she is.

"You're safe here, you have us."

It was like the family and love have been waiting for her in this place. She just had to look more deeper.

Unfortunately, that comfort wasn't going to last long. For the third game, it was mingle. When the carousel stops spinning, there will be a number on the screen announced and you have to form groups of that number and lock yourself in a room before the timer runs out.

Hyun-Ju made sure to stay with you and Young-Mi, both of you alive and safe. Everything was going well until one round.

You, Hyun-Ju and many other players were running to get to a room safely. Unfortunately, Young-Mi accidentally got pushed and couldn't make it to the door on time.

Hyun-Ju notices this and tries to save her. You looked at the timer, knowing there wouldn't be enough time to save her and you and all the others in the room would be dead.

Another player, Myung-Gi goes in and locks the door. Young-Mi rushes to the door and cries for Hyun-Ju.

Hyun-Ju is yelling for her and the whole thing made you feel bad.

Bang

Young-Mi drops the ground and is unresponsive. Hyun-Ju grabs Myung-Gi by his shirt and starts yelling at him.

"It's your fault! I could have saved her!"

"If you did, you would be dead, and all of us would. What's better 1 dead person or a group of 6 people dead?" Myung-Gi exclaims

He had a point but you just knew Hyun-Ju wanted Young-Mi to live. You also wanted her to live as well.

After the game was over, Hyun-Ju was silent walking back to the dormitory.

You thought it would be best to talk to her as you are starting to become closer with her.

"Hyun-Ju? Are you ok?" Reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder, Hyun-Ju turns to you.

"I could have saved her. I should have saved her. She didn't deserve to die." Hyun Ju looks down in shame

"If you went to save her, you would have been dead too then."

"She wanted out of the game Y/N. If I pressed X, instead of O, maybe it would have helped, I should have left the room-"

"It was a hard decision, I know and there wasn't a lot of time left. I wish she made it too, but there's nothing you really can do about it"

"She was one of the first people besides you that really accepted me."

"She would also want you to keep moving forward and get out of here. I do too."

Hyun Ju turns to you

"We'll get out of here and you'll get that surgery, and you'll move to where you want to go. I have faith in you Hyun Ju."

"You do?"

"Yes I do, and you should too"

There was a moment of silence between you too. Hyun-Ju was taking in what you said. For the next vote, she was determined to keep going and survive not only for Young-Mi, but also for you.

"Y/N, can I tell you something?"

"It's like you're the only exception in this place, out of everyone here, I'm glad to have met you and Young-Mi."

"I'm glad too Hyun-Ju, I'm glad too."

She holds out her hand and you take it. You gave it a tight squeeze as reassurance everything will be ok. And it will be.

As long as Hyun-Ju had you, everything and anything felt possible.

Taglist:

@hobinistaworld, @magicalconnoisseurcoffee, @dxrlingluv, @ninahorikoshifr

Navigation | Main Masterlist | Squid Game Masterlist | Hyun-Ju Masterlist | Join my taglist

[jamingbenn]

year in review - hockey rpf on ao3

hello!! the annual ao3 year in review had some friends and i thinking - wouldn't it be cool if we had a hockey rpf specific version of that. so i went ahead and collated the data below!!

i start with a broad overview, then dive deeper into the 3 most popular ships this year (with one bonus!)

if any images appear blurry, click on them to expand and they should become clear!

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before we jump in, some key things to highlight: - CREDIT TO: the webscraping part of my code heavily utilized the ao3 wrapped google colab code, as lovingly created by @kyucultures on twitter, as the main skeleton. i tweaked a couple of things but having it as a reference saved me a LOT of time and effort as a first time web scraper!!! thank you stranger <3 - please do NOT, under ANY circumstances, share any part of this collation on any other website. please do not screenshot or repost to twitter, tiktok, or any other public social platform. thank u!!! T_T - but do feel free to send requests to my inbox! if you want more info on a specific ship, tag, or you have a cool idea or wanna see a correlation between two variables, reach out and i should be able to take a look. if you want to take a deeper dive into a specific trope not mentioned here/chapter count/word counts/fic tags/ship tags/ratings/etc, shoot me an ask!

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with that all said and done... let's dive into hockey_rpf_2024_wrapped_insanity.ipynb

BIG PICTURE OVERVIEW

i scraped a total of 4266 fanfics that dated themselves as published or finished in the year 2024. of these 4000 odd fanfics, the most popular ships were:

Note: "Minor or Background Relationship(s)" clocked in at #9 with 91 fics, but I removed it as it was always a secondary tag and added no information to the chart. I did not discern between primary ship and secondary ship(s) either!

breaking down the 5 most popular ships over the course of the year, we see:

super interesting to see that HUGE jump for mattdrai in june/july for the stanley cup final. the general lull in the offseason is cool to see as well.

as for the most popular tags in all 2024 hockey rpf fic...

weee like our fluff. and our established relationships. and a little H/C never hurt no one.

i got curious here about which AUs were the most popular, so i filtered down for that. note that i only regex'd for tags that specifically start with "Alternate Universe - ", so A/B/O and some other stuff won't appear here!

idk it was cool to me.

also, here's a quick breakdown of the ratings % for works this year:

and as for the word counts, i pulled up a box plot of the top 20 most popular ships to see how the fic length distribution differed amongst ships:

mattdrai-ers you have some DEDICATION omg. respect

now for the ship by ship break down!!

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#1 MATTDRAI

most popular ship this year. peaked in june/july with the scf. so what do u people like to write about?

fun fun fun. i love that the scf is tagged there like yes actually she is also a main character

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#2 SIDGENO

(my babies) top tags for this ship are:

folks, we are a/b/o fiends and we cannot lie. thank you to all the selfless authors for feeding us good a/b/o fic this year. i hope to join your ranks soon.

(also: MPREG. omega sidney crosby. alpha geno. listen, the people have spoken, and like, i am listening.)

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#3 NICOJACK

top tags!!

it seems nice and cozy over there... room for one more?

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BONUS: JDTZ.

i wasnt gonna plot this but @marcandreyuri asked me if i could take a look and the results are so compelling i must include it. are yall ok. do u need a hug

top tags being h/c, angst, angst, TRADES, pining, open endings... T_T katie said its a "torture vortex" and i must concurr

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BONUS BONUS: ALPHA/BETA/OMEGA

as an a/b/o enthusiast myself i got curious as to what the most popular ships were within that tag. if you want me to take a look about this for any other tag lmk, but for a/b/o, as expected, SID GENO ON TOP BABY!:

thats all for now!!! if you have anything else you are interested in seeing the data for, send me an ask and i'll see if i can get it to ya!

[hcneymooners]

✸ TRITWWISIYTSTICS ⤷ chapter v. i will hold on to this pulse.

read on ao3.

masterlist: here.

cw: chronic pain, physical disability, body betrayal/loss of bodily autonomy, sexual & romantic tension, touch-starved paige, down bad paige, non-sexual intimacy, first kiss!!, the intense passion involved in touching another woman when you haven't been touched in an insane amount of time.

notes: hello, hello. thank you all for your patience as i find my way through mapping the body of this world and the path of this story. i hope you enjoy this chapter. all my love, forever.

paige often forgot that her body was, in some ways, broken and open. 

she had walked apocalyptic americana, deep in her grief, for who knows how long, and her body lived accordingly. wounds collected, then rusted over, like a child’s first bike. it was hard for her to grasp onto the condition that she knew she existed in, to grasp the words the doctors would use if she still had one she trusted.

aeternum dolorem. 

eternal pain. 

chronic pain.

some days she found it easier than others. today was not meant to be one of those days. she knew almost immediately when she woke up, her lower back twinging in a low cry of anguish and the rest of her body trembling in answer, like a bell reverberating with the strength of a hit against it. 

the first moments were always the worst. that split second of forgetting, of expecting her body to simply work, before the reminder crashed over her like cold water. her joints felt as though they'd been filled with cement overnight, rotted and heavy, every connection between bone and bone grinding like scabbed hinges. the stiffness radiated outward from her spine, creeping into her hips, her knees, the small bones of her fingers that had once been steady enough to thread a needle in the dark, never to miss a shot.

she lay still, trying to negotiate with her body the way she'd once negotiated with hostile contacts. carefully, with respect for what damage each side could do. moving too quickly would send sharp electric jolts down her legs. moving too slowly would let the pain settle deeper, like sediment in still water.

paige pressed her palms flat against the mattress and pushed herself upright in small increments, the slowness something horrible and causing each vertebra to protest the shift. her breathing remained shallow, controlled, an old habit from when any sound might mean death, but useful now for different reasons. deep breaths moved her ribcage, which pulled on muscles that were already wailing.

it would soon be a scream, a soundless sobbing that would splay along her lungs and emerge from her own throat.

the mental fog was almost worse than the physical pain. her thoughts moved like honey, thick and so slow, and she had to concentrate to remember simple things: where she was, what day it might be, whether the woman sleeping beside her was real or another ghost her mind had conjured. the stiffness was most severe after long periods in the same position, eight hours of sleep making everything worse, and the parts of her brain that processed pain tangling with those that regulated emotion, until she couldn't tell where the physical ache ended and the grief began.

she managed to swing herself upward, reaching out blindly and forcing herself to sit on the edge of the bed for a long moment, letting her body adjust to vertical, letting her mind catch up to the present. she busied herself with pushing apart the canopy, skin almost burning with the sudden kiss of the sun. she had no desire for this lover.

she’d tumbled over to azzi’s side, unrealizing that the other woman had already risen. she wasn’t sure what she had felt against her then, or maybe time had passed much more quickly than her misery could follow, and it was already late.

her feet were swollen, her ankles stiff, and she flexed them cautiously before attempting to stand. the first few steps would be the test: whether today would be a day she could pretend to be whole, or whether she'd have to move through the world like the spoiled thing she was.

when she finally pushed herself up, her left knee buckled immediately, sending her stumbling forward with a sharp intake of breath. she caught herself against the bedframe, but the movement had torn something loose in her chest. not physical, but close enough. 

her body falling made a sound that required attention, and she gritted her teeth until they were two white strips of frustration, the pink of her tongue catching between them and blooming bright at the tip with blood.

“p?” 

azzi’s call was sweet, a bead of light. the nickname was new, a result of time spent intertwined, separation no longer as inevitable as it had felt before. but right now paige needed to hear her name in its entirety, to remind herself that she was a real person, a real thing required to breathe and bleed and cry and live. 

oh, paige.” azzi’s voice was closer now, softer, suddenly there, hands gentle but sure as they steadied paige's shoulders. “it’s okay. i've got you.”

the tears came before paige could stop them, a product of vexation and pain and the particular humiliation of the body betraying itself in front of someone who it felt mattered. azzi stepped closer, close enough that paige could rest her forehead against the soft fabric of azzi's nightgown, could feel the warmth of her stomach beneath the cotton.

"it's okay," azzi murmured, her hands moving to cradle the back of paige's head, fingers threading through her hair. "just breathe with me."

paige let herself lean into it, let azzi hold her there on the edge of the bed with her knees bracketing azzi's hips, let the tears fall quietly and salt-warm against azzi's shirt. for a minute, maybe more, they stayed like that. paige's broken-open body was held firm by someone who didn't mind the dip of their fingertip into the wound. 

when another shudder dispelled itself through paige’s body, azzi leaned in, stepped closer. paige could smell something white and floral upon her, and she closed her eyes to allow the sudden flash of memory to take over. 

she was ten, then twelve again, her hands pruned by wet laundry she dragged sopping and limp into the dryer. she could smell the soap, could feel how clean it all was, how her young body could not imagine the sudden onset of an everlasting pain.

subconsciously, she pressed harder against azzi, who did nothing but tighten her grip around paige’s neck and head. paige felt a hand stroke through the mussed mass of blonde hair at her neck, and she collapsed further, a building detonated. it was easy here, with the sun shielded and the smell of azzi all around her; spring birthed over and over.

her body, already surrendering to the fluid tide of discomfort, betrayed her further. unable to help herself, paige shifted and dusted her lips across fabric that covered azzi’s sternum. it was too light to be called passionate, lustful, but heavy enough to be known and recognized as what it was. a kiss. 

she felt azzi’s muscles contract and release, felt azzi’s fingers tighten around her hair as if she was thinking of pulling paige deeper into herself. paige, emboldened, let her hands slide down until she was cupping the crease between azzi’s thigh and ass, her pale fingers grasping at the fat underneath the faded hem of the nightgown. 

body, brown and plush, filled her hands. some spilled over the sides, not necessarily in obscenity, but erotic enough to someone who was starved for someone else to hold. touch was transaction, was knowledge, and memory passed down.

again, azzi stayed. again, she let paige take advantage of her. again, she pressed into it, like a horse against a bridle, neck straining with her breath as she bucked backward and let out a small noise as paige caught her. squeezed her.

but then azzi was pulling back, just enough to create space between them, her hands sliding from paige's hair to frame her face. the loss of contact was immediate and sharp, but before paige could mourn it, azzi's thumb was sweeping beneath her eyes, catching the salt tracks there with infinite gentleness.

"i will help you," azzi said, and there was something in her voice, a deep pitch that belonged to the act of promising.. her thumb lingered at the corner of paige's eye, and paige felt herself leaning into the touch like a plant toward sun.

"how?" the word came out smaller than paige intended, cracked open with vulnerability.

azzi's hands moved to paige's shoulders, steadying her. "can i look at you properly? will you let me see where it hurts?”

the questions toed the line of the clinical and personal, a clear attempt from azzi to allow paige to feel more in control of herself and the situation. it was appreciated and paige could feel her affection for the other woman, thick and coiled like a shed snakeskin, sitting at the back of the pink, wet gap of her throat. she found herself nodding before she could think better of it, her body already making the choice her mind hadn't quite caught up to.

"can you lie back for me?" azzi asked, her voice soft but sure, a request for paige to follow.

and since azzi asked, paige did.

as soon as paige gave the signal that she was comfortable—as much as one could be anyway—azzi began to speak, patient and lilting. 

the questions did not take the shape that paige expected. in fact, at first, azzi seemed to pinpoint the vulnerabilities and exploit them, almost benevolently.

“when you had your nightmare the other morning,” she said, stepping away to open a drawer in the chipped drawer of the living room dresser off to the side.  “were you in pain then?”

she’d moved paige in front of the fire, insistent on the warmth to help lessen the stagnation of paige’s muscles.

“when i’m—when i get trapped in an episode i’m not, um, i don’t feel it then. i’m reacting on instinct, adrenaline, and my training flips to the forefront of my mind. it comes crashing in after most of the time, waves of it,” paige murmured, eyes on the dark ceiling of the cabin.

but now, with desire having broken the surface between them like a stone through still water, a body unanchored from its chains, paige found her gaze drifting. azzi had changed into simple black cotton pants and a fitted tee with a square neck, and paige could see her properly for the first time. truly see her.

the way the fabric clung to toned shoulders and the subtle definition of muscle along her arms. the gentle swell of her chest, the peek of the tops of her breasts rising at her neckline that made paige's mouth go dry. her curls were gathered in a loose bun at her neck, tendrils escaping to cling to the wet bow of her mouth, and when she moved, paige caught glimpses of the elegant line of her throat.

"mmm, that makes sense," azzi said, returning with a small amber bottle that caught the firelight. it pooled tender and golden. paige’s mouth almost watered at the promise of repose. "adrenaline can mask pain signals temporarily. but your body keeps the score."

the clinical language should have been detached, but instead it transformed the moment into something intimate, this glimpse into how azzi's mind worked, the way she could weave knowledge into care. it had only taken her a few moments to understand that paige operated more efficiently when she had all the information available, when she knew exactly what was going on and why a decision must be enacted upon her. 

she unscrewed the cap and the scent of amber oil filled the space, warm and resinous, but underneath it paige could still smell azzi herself: iris and other white florals, something clean and bright breaking through that made her want to press her face into the curve of azzi's neck. she wondered if she could darken it, if that with every suck of her mouth she could bruise both scent and skin, could have azzi stained and marked with the force of paige taking her.

heat unattached to the fire began to build in paige’s stomach. she fought the urge to roll as it spread, to put it out. she closed her eyes instead.

"i'm going to start with some light strokes to warm the tissue," azzi explained, settling beside paige on the makeshift bed they'd arranged near the hearth. "tell me if the pressure is too much or too little."

her hands were warm when they first touched paige's lower back, fingers spanning wide as she began with long, gliding movements. effleurage, though paige didn't know the name. azzi worked methodically, her touch confident in a way that spoke to anatomical understanding.

"your erector spinae is incredibly tight," azzi murmured, her thumbs working along the muscles that ran parallel to paige's spine. "these are the muscles that keep you upright. they've been working overtime."

paige felt herself melting under the attention, both the physical relief and the heady awareness of azzi's body so close to hers, a body that took the same shape as hers, that widened and was full in the ways paige liked, that—

the warmth radiating from her skin, the soft sound of her breathing, the way her curls had escaped their bun to brush against paige's shoulder when she leaned forward to work a particularly stubborn knot—it was all maddening. 

azzi's hands moved lower, working the knots between paige's shoulder blades with practiced precision, her thumbs digging into the spaces where tension had crystallized into something almost solid. each touch was deliberate, perfectly measured, and considerate, but paige could feel a shift in the quality of azzi's attention.

 her fingers found themselves lingering a beat too long; her breathing had changed.

"can you turn over for me?" azzi asked softly, her voice carrying that same clinical gentleness. it was another task, another request of paige with sincere room for paige’s negation.

when paige complied, rolling slowly onto her back, she found azzi watching her with an expression she couldn't quite read. paige shifted, blue eyes flashing in the light like ice over water, hair spilling like a harvest of wheat over one shoulder. the firelight caught the amber oil still glistening on azzi's palms, turned her hands into something benedictine, sacred.

"your shoulders," azzi murmured, as if that explained everything, as if that justified the way her oil-slick fingers came up to trace the hollow of paige's throat, the sharp line of her collarbone. her touch was feather-light here, reverent, mapping the architecture of paige's body like a sculptor assessing their muse.

neither of them had been touched with intention in so long. neither of them had been touched at all. no one had been there to love them these past years, these past months. and maybe that was why when azzi's thumbs brushed against the tender skin just below paige's jaw, when her fingers—still warm with amber and the green hush of medicine—cupped paige's face and pressed down along her brown, paige broke first.

"azzi." paige's voice was barely a whisper, but it was enough to make azzi pause, her thumbs resting against paige's cheekbones, oil making her skin shine in the firelight like a renaissance saint.

“azzi,” she said again, this time through bared teeth like a dog with its jaw set in a gripping of flesh.

paige shivered, and she knew azzi could see what she wanted. her legs parted, her inner thighs suddenly taut. covenance had always been a full-bodied creature for paige, a possession she was helpless against. it always rose, quick and falling short of maturity when it recognized itself in another.

the kiss, when it came, was chaste at first. a kiss of responsibility. a soft press of lips that tasted like gratitude and loneliness and the insidious ache of two people who had forgotten what it meant to be wanted. but then paige lifted from the makeshift bed, her hands finding azzi's waist, pulling her down, and chasteness was quickly abandoned. their point of connection became something else entirely.

azzi's mouth opened under hers, and suddenly there was tongue and the spice-sweet taste of desperation, the hot, wet slide of lips finding purchase against each other again and again. here was the truth: when you dropped the act, the world would rush into you, soaked and overwhelming.

paige gasped into azzi's mouth and felt azzi swallow the sound, felt her settle half into paige's lap, straddling her thigh.

“no, mm, no. wait," azzi breathed against her mouth, pulling back just enough to speak, her hands framing paige's face. "wait. your back—"

she cut herself off,  already moving, her hands tight on paige’s hips as she shifted them both, rolling until paige was beneath her and then sitting back, pulling the blonde into her lap instead. the movement was fluid, practiced, unbearably sweet.

it was azzi still thinking of paige's pain even in the middle of her own unraveling, her own wanting. it was azzi controlling herself when she felt her most uncontrollable for the sake of paige’s comfort, for the sake of caring for her.

"better?" azzi whispered, her hands sliding up paige's sides, and paige could only nod before she was leaning down again, crushing their mouths together with a hunger that felt like it might devour them both.

this time, when they kissed, it was a teenage clash of teeth and the desperate sound of breath being stolen. paige cupped azzi's face in both hands, her hair falling across azzi's cheeks as she took and took and took, kissing her like she was trying to crawl inside her skin, like she could survive on the taste of her alone.

and azzi gave. gave everything.

her mouth pliant and open, her hands gripping paige's waist like a soul helpless to death, her body arching up to meet every desperate press of paige's lips. paige tasted of humanism, like blood and teeth marked by mint and something sweeter; fresh-cut fruit left too long on a counter. 

her mouth was a soft, dangerous trap. azzi only opened wider.

she let paige consume her, let her take everything she needed, and when paige finally pulled back to breathe, both of them gasping, slick and swollen, azzi's eyes were dark with craving and something that resembled relief.

their foreheads knocked together, and azzi smiled, her front teeth prominent and young. she looked transformed, almost warmed inwardly by the finality of giving in. 

“sweetheart,” she breathed, and paige groaned, eyes closing. 

no one had ever called her “sweetheart”. not that she could remember. she had never been seen as a sweet girl, as a pleasant woman. she had been hardened for so long. 

“again,” she whispered. “please. please, again.”

azzi tugged her closer, pressing a kiss to her neck. paige fell into her, hands clutching desperately somewhere deep inside of azzi’s curls. she pulled at them by accident when azzi grazed her teeth along her pulse and was answered by the sharp jolt of azzi’s hips.

“azzi,” paige sobbed, asking and asking. “azzi, again.”

“shh, sweetheart.” finally, azzi had answered. “it’s alright.”

paige let her head fall back, let azzi bruise her into color. 

she kept her eyes open.

© hcneymooners.

[777heavengirl]

Bless the Telephone ; ##04

James Potter x f!muggle!reader

word count: 1,163

warnings: none?

a/n: HELLO IM ALIVE- ummm did break up with my boyfriend, after spiraling for a week i am feeling much better! I did what was right for me and i am happier for it!! JAMES OR SIRIUS WOULD HAVE NEVER TREAT ME LIKE THAT! so yea I'm back :D thank you for putting up with my disappearances i should be uploading SEMI regularly just bc classes r in full throttle now

series masterlist

main masterlist

It hadn't been as difficult as you thought. Getting rid of Josh was a pending item on your to-do list for months. But for some reason or another, you never could, not completely. More often than not, he’d find some weak spot in your resolve, and crawl back in like a cockroach. 

But not this time, at least not yet. After that day, when James’s call saved you from a bit of an uncomfortable situation, you managed to easily avoid his calls, if he knocked at the door Charlotte and you stayed unbearably still until he went away. He left voicemail after voicemail, called Charlotte’s phone with a bit more anger, and called your phone with crocodile tears. 

But you weren't sweating it. You had fallen into an easy pattern with James, he’d fill the time that you would've been itching to fill and end up calling Josh out of boredom. 

James was a good friend! At least that's what you’d tell Charlotte. She’d look at you with a glint in her eye and a smirk on her lips that you ignored. If only she was so keen and observant with women that she liked, she tended to lack awareness often. 

You didn’t dare tell her about the playful jabs, the comments you didn't dare label fully as flirty, or god forbid the butterflies that fluttered at the pit of your stomach every time he called, laughed, or gave you some stupid cloying nickname. 

“Come on pretty- just tell me” You could hear the pout in his voice

You groaned in defeat, “Okay okay- if I had to be any creature…” You thought about it for a second more “Potter this is stupid”

“Indulge me”

You sighed “Fine, I think I would be… a witch”

“That's not a creature love”

“Well they are to me”

“I know a few that would be greatly offended by that comment” he retorted

“Oh yeah? You’re friends with witches?” you mirrored the smirk you heard in his voice

“Quite a few actually, nasty women the lot of them…” James smiled, thinking of his friends. How Marlene would probably flick the side of his head, and Lily would wholeheartedly just roll her eyes. Dorcas would definitely send a book flying straight to his head if she heard, not that she hadn't done that often enough during their time at school. It was always deserved. “love them nevertheless though- Pick something else, witches are human”

You hmph in disagreement and thought about it momentarily

“I don't think it would be very pleasant to be a werewolf you know? A bit inconvenient-” you thought out loud

“You don’t know the half of it,” he said under his breath

“Vampires sound kind of cool… wouldn't be able to go out into the sun though so that's quite a shame” James hummed in agreement “Maybe a mermaid, they’re pretty right?”

“Allegedly, they’re more scary than anything else- foul foul creatures” The ones in the Black Lake had messed with him more than once. 

“Oh, what do you know Potter?”

“Quite a lot thank you- more than you anyway”

“And why do you think that? Mermaids aren't scary dummy”

“You say that because you haven't seen one pretty” James’s mouth was faster than his thoughts, he prayed you’d just laugh it off.

“Oh, and I suppose you have?” He slapped himself on the forehead as he thought of some excuse. The witches' comment he was able to get away with, maybe his tone had been too matter-o-fact.

“Well, yes I have!” he said, confidently, ironically. You started laughing, his worry melted away. Would you even believe him if he told you?

“Is that so? Well okay, what creature would you be Potter?”

“A hippogriff I think”

“What the hell is that?” James burst out in laughter

-

You could feel Charlotte’s eyes on you as you scooped ice cream into your lips. You focused on the cold chocolatey flavor and whatever movie she had found. You didn’t know what you were watching, you thought of James.

James and his stupid laugh, and the way he always called you pretty or doll or some other completely repulsive nickname you wanted to hate. But you couldn't. He was sweet, and he always asked how you were, after he found out about your roommate’s existence, he asked about her too. 

“y/n”

“yes charlotte?”

“What does he look like? is he cute? Is he tall? I reckon that’s an important one with men is it not” you groaned as she launched question after question

“Char, I already told you I don't know anything about him”

“But you talk all day, every day” She scoffed

“It’s not every day- nor is it all day I have things to do you know”

“It is though, every bloody day, you come in and launch yourself at the telephone like clockwork” You stared at your pint of ice cream, suppressing the small laugh that threatened to leave your lips. 

You felt a tad silly.

“It’s just-” You started to say, Charlotte leaned in with an excited smile on her lips as if egging you on. “It feels stupid, I could be getting totally scammed right now- sure he sounds young, and sure he said he’s twenty- but he could be anyone, anywhere” 

“Let’s think about it though- you guys talk a lot he has to be in England no? Calls out are so expensive” She grabbed the pint of ice cream from your hands, shoving a spoonful into her mouth. 

“That doesn’t change anything Char, I don't know him” She waved the spoon around dismissively. For someone who was so cynical about her own love life, Charlotte was always ready to be invested in yours. You never minded though, you were happy to bond over the raging disaster that it seemed to be.

“You guys have never thought about meeting up? You haven’t even talked about it?” You shifted uncomfortably as she wiggled her eyebrows “Have you even asked him what he looks like?” You took the ice cream tub back, shoving ice cream into your mouth

“We’re missing the movie y’know?” She scoffed at your weak attempt to change the subject

“As if I care about that- come on, you’re rolling in laughter every time you’re on that damn phone so there is clearly some chemistry there”

“So what I also have chemistry with circus clowns?” You said, turning to give her a deadpan stare. 

“You know what I mean” She took the ice cream back

“What if I meet up with him and he kidnaps me…” she offered you the last few scrapes left in the tub. When you shook your head she ate it gingerly, a small smile on her face. “Suddenly I’m in the arctic tundra being trafficked”

“As long as it's not with Josh,” she shrugged her shoulders “I reckon anything is better,” she said, snorting 

“You’re terrible” You both fell into laughter

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permanent tag ; @laufeysvalentine @heyyyloverr

PLEASE PLEASE LMK IF I MISSED YOU I HAVE BEEN GONE FOR WEEKS AND I DID MY BEST TO COLLECT EVERYONE AHHHH thank you for reading <3