#Got em locked and loaded

[thalliumstraww]

solrblsa

[spotsupstuff]

wait a damn minute.

"mocinha" does this imply that nish and his city is located in the serotonin take's equivalent to brazil or am i going crazy

TECHNICALLY he should be located in Bolivia according to the map, with Moon, Pebbles and Wind being the proper Brazilians, but i told myself "if only just for the laughs. just for the laughs i'll close my eye a lil so he can be in Brazil with them" so ye! i specifically looked up portuguese for Brazil benefits

enjoy having Nish (n the other three) over there, brazilian

[resurrectedromantic]

what EVER. think abt nicknames theyd give u ok?

[mssorceressupreme]

Wanna Be Yours | F.W

———

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Summary: helping a younger student resulted in you and the first-year walking into a prank not meant for you, and as you do so, you catch Fred's attention. the next day he tries to apologise with another prank and it backfires, but this only resulted in him falling even harder for you, he just knew wanted to be yours.

Warnings/tags: hufflepuff!reader (well it suits anyone really :D), love at first sight, he fell first and HARD, fred needs you so bad, pranks gone wrong, teasing, fluffy and cute, fred's a simp a/n: inspired by "Wanna be Yours by Arctic Monkeys"

———

The courtyard was alive with the soft hum of spring—branches swaying in the breeze, birds chirping from the castle walls, and a few students milling about on the cobblestones. Fred crouched behind a large stone pillar, his mischievous grin matching the one plastered across his twin’s face.

Huddled in a corner, the four of them—Fred, George, Lee and Oliver, were planning a revenge prank on Marcus Flint and Draco Malfoy for their obnoxious antics during the Quidditch match earlier.

“Are you sure about this?” Oliver Wood asked, trying to sound stern but failing as he bit back a chuckle.

Malfoy had spent most of the game taunting Harry, and Flint’s borderline dirty play had cost Gryffindor two near-goals. That didn’t sit well with Fred and George, so what better way to get back at them than with a prank.

“Hundred percent.” Fred said, smirking as he held up a pouch of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder. “Alright, we rig this near the tree. As soon as they walk by, poof! Total chaos. Then, George, you release the Dungbombs—”

“Already got ‘em primed,” George said, patting his pocket with a devilish grin.

“Don't forget the slime and feathers!” Lee added, holding up a jar of fluorescent green goop in one hand, and a bag of feathers in the other.

Oliver, who had reluctantly joined but couldn’t resist some payback, frowned. “Let’s make sure they’re the only ones who get caught in this mess though, yeah?”

“Relax Wood,” Fred said, waving a hand dismissively. “It’s a foolproof plan. Nothing can go wrong.”

“Trust us,” George said, “We’ve calculated everything.”

“Right,” Lee affirmed, “It's simple charm, a bit of instant darkness powder, and—bam! Feathers, slime, and a nice little puff of stink powder for good measure.”

George cackled, clapping his twin on the back. “Beautiful. They’ll be too busy cleaning slime and plucking feathers off their robes to bother us for weeks.”

“That's what they deserve for acting like twits during the match.” Lee chimed in. "S'pose they do deserve it." Oliver chuckled, his reluctance turning into enthusiasm.

The trap was simple but effective: a hidden tripwire enchanted to release darkness powder, then a rain of slime and feathers from above, followed by the dungbombs. All they had to do now was wait for their targets. "Now, they're supposed to walk pass here any moment..." Fred told the others, as the four of them watched eagerly.

Fred’s eyes glinted as he nodded toward the enchanted tripwire stretched across the cobblestones, ready to unleash chaos on Flint and Malfoy the moment they stepped on it.

Everything was perfect. Until it wasn't.

From behind a stone archway, you appeared with a small Ravenclaw first-year in tow.

It wasn’t Malfoy or Flint who walked into the courtyard first.

It was you.

You were laughing softly, your eyes crinkling with warmth as you guided a nervous-looking first-year Ravenclaw girl who clutched her books tightly to their chest. The poor kid had taken a wrong turn, and you volunteered to show her the way to the library.

In your arms, you helped carry some of her load, making it easier for the first-year.

“Don’t worry,” you were saying, your voice kind and steady. “The library isn’t far. Just through the next hall and up the staircase."

Fred’s eyes locked onto you, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow down. He didn’t hear anything else. It was like the world had narrowed to just you—the way your hair caught the sunlight, the easy grace in your step, and the way your smile seemed to light up the entire courtyard.

How had he not noticed you before?

“Is Fred broken?” George whispered to Lee.

“Looks like it. Never seen him go this quiet before,” Lee replied, smirking.

Oliver elbowed Fred, snapping him out of his trance. “Mate, you’re staring.”

“Shut up,” Fred muttered, his eyes never leaving you.

"Who is she?..." He continued, holding true to Oliver's statement.

“Who?” Lee asked, following his gaze. He snorted when he saw you. “Her? Oh no. Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft, Fred.”

Fred didn’t respond. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you but he was quickly snapped out of his trance as you approached the tree.

Oh shit. "Not the tree, don't walk past the tree..." He muttered to himself, hoping you would somehow magically hear him.

It was no use. Disaster struck.

You were met with instant darkness, coughing slightly as the powder released a thick fog around you and the first year.

Before you could grasp the full situation, a torrent of green slime and feathers rained down from above, coating you and the first-year from head to toe. The Dungbombs exploded seconds later, filling the courtyard with an awful stench.

The first-year yelped, clutching her books as the slime dripped down her robes. You froze for a moment, stunned, before shaking your head with a soft laugh.

Fred winced, guilt twisting in his chest.

“Oops,” George muttered, though he didn’t sound all that sorry.

Lee burst out laughing, "Merlin, did we just traumatise a first year?!"

“Poor kid,” Oliver said, though his lips twitched with suppressed laughter.

Fred, however, barely heard them. He was too busy watching you. Instead of panicking or getting angry, you crouched down immediately, brushing feathers off the first-year’s face.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you said gently, your voice soothing. “It’s just a bit of slime and feathers. Another tip, beware of silly pranks, it's all part and parcel of the Hogwarts culture." You comfort the kid, trying to lighten the situation by laughing softly, "Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

The first-year nodded, her lower lip trembling, and you smiled, guiding her toward a nearby fountain.

Fred couldn’t stop staring. He didn't know who you were, but he did know this, he wanted to be yours.

You were covered in slime and feathers, an absolute mess, yet you still looked radiant.

There was something about the way you put the first-year first, your patience and kindness shining through, that made his heart thud in the best way.

You helped her cleaned as much as you could off her robes, murmuring reassurances the entire time before chanting, "Scourgify!", instantly her robes were as good as new.

Only after she was cleaned up did you finally turn your attention to yourself. With the help of the cleaning spell, the feathers were out of your hair and the slime off your sleeves in no time.

“Merlin! Fred, you’ve got it bad,” Lee said, smirking.

“Oh, leave him,” George teased. “He’s clearly in love.” Fred’s ears turned pink, but he didn’t care. For once, he was speechless.

“How come I’ve never noticed her before?” The red head murmured, more to himself than anyone else. He was certain he would’ve remembered someone like you. “Maybe because you’re too busy pranking people,” Oliver said dryly. "Who is she?" Fred asked, ignoring Oliver's remark. "Seen her around a couple of times, especially in the library, she's in Ron's year." Oliver hummed, watching as you conversed with the first-year.

“That explains it,” George quipped. “She’s too smart to bother with Fred’s idiocy.”

Fred scowled, but his gaze remained fixed on you. There was something magnetic about the way you carried yourself, and he felt like everyone had disappeared, you were the only one in sight, to him.

He knew he had to make this right. He needed an excuse to approach you. Right! An apology. And of course, he had to impress you.

The Ravenclaw girl finally gave a small laugh as you finished off explaining the pranking culture at Hogwarts. “Thank you, I-..I think I know my way to the library from here now.” she said softly before hurrying off. ___

The next day, Fred had a plan. A proper one.

Breakfast in the Great Hall hummed with the usual morning chaos: the clink of cutlery, the murmur of conversation, and the occasional bursts of laughter from each houses' table.

Fred stood at the entrance, trying to look nonchalant but failing miserably. In his hands, he clutched a bouquet of enchanted flowers—slime-free this time—that were charmed to sing a cheerful apology tune when presented.

He wiped his palm against his robes for what felt like the hundredth time. “This is foolproof,” Fred muttered under his breath.

“You say that every time,” George pointed out, his tone dripping with amusement. He nudged Lee, who was barely containing his laughter. “What do you reckon? Will he get through two words before tripping over himself?”

“Five Galleons says he’ll combust,” Lee said, grinning.

“Will you two shut it?” Fred snapped, though the tips of his ears turned red. “This is serious.”

“Serious,” George repeated, mocking Fred’s tone. “You’re holding a singing bouquet, mate. Nothing about this screams ‘serious.’”

“Just watch,” Fred said, his voice low but determined.

That’s when you walked in, and Fred’s stomach flipped.

You were laughing as you entered, your head tilted toward one of your friends. That laugh—light, carefree, and far too distracting—was etched into Fred’s memory, playing on a loop since the previous day.

The sunlight streaming through the tall windows hit you at just the right angle, illuminating your smile. You were radiant.

Fred’s heart thumped in his chest as he stepped forward, the bouquet held out like a peace offering. “Hey!” he called, catching your attention.

You turned to him, eyes widening slightly in surprise. “Yes?” you said, the corners of your mouth quirking up into a curious smile. What did he want from you?

Fred grinned, his confidence teetering on the edge of unraveling. “Listen, about yesterday—”

But before he could finish, the bouquet let out a sudden pop. A puff of pink smoke erupted, followed by an earsplittingly off-key version of “I’m Sorry About The Slime” that echoed through the Great Hall.

Fred barely had time to react before the bouquet detonated in a second burst, showering him in glitter and knocking him flat on his back.

The Hall erupted into laughter.

Fred groaned, staring at the enchanted ceiling, which now looked even farther away than usual. He could hear George’s loud, obnoxious cackling somewhere to his left.

“Five Galleons,” Lee said smugly.

Fred grimaced, but before he could even begin to think about recovering, a familiar voice broke through the laughter.

“Guess I’m not the only casualty this time.”

Fred turned his head, blinking in disbelief. You had flopped down beside him, lying flat on your back on the floor as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Glitter sparkled in your hair, and your grin was wide and unapologetic.

“What are you doing?” Fred asked, his voice caught somewhere between bewilderment and awe.

“Making sure you’re not the only one who looks ridiculous,” you replied, shrugging as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s only fair.”

Fred let out a breathless laugh, his embarrassment momentarily forgotten. “You’re mental.” But he loved it.

“Takes one to know one,” you shot back, glancing at him with a teasing smile.

From across the Hall, George shouted, “Right on, Romeooo!!” His voice was exaggerated and dramatic, and Fred could practically feel the heat rising in his face.

“Oi shut it, George!” Fred yelled, though his tone lacked bite.

You laughed again, and Fred swore his heart might actually burst. “You’ve got quite the fan club,” you said, gesturing toward the group of students, particularly, Fred's 'boys', who were now openly watching the scene unfold and chortling.

“They’re a bunch of idiots,” Fred muttered, though his lips twitched into a reluctant smile.

You tilted your head, studying him for a moment. “You know,” you said thoughtfully, “for someone who’s usually so good at pranks, this was a spectacular disaster.”

Fred groaned, running a hand through his now glitter-covered hair. “Tell me about it.”

“But,” you added, your voice softening, “I appreciate the effort and the apology.”

Fred looked at you, his heart stuttering. “You do?”

“Yeah.” You leaned closer, lowering your voice conspiratorially. “And between you and me, I think you pull off the glitter look better than anyone else here.”

Fred laughed, the sound loud and genuine, and for a moment, the rest of the hall faded away. “I reckon you pull it off better than I do.”

“Why thank you, it's actually my dream to be covered in glitter. Shining as bright as a quidditch trophy is the goal." You joked, but Fred smiled warmly.

You do shine bright, he thought.

As you stood up, you reached out a hand to help him up. Fred took it without hesitation, warmth spreading through him at the simple gesture.

“Come on, glitter boy,” you said, your tone teasing but fond. “Let’s get you sitting somewhere before you injure yourself again.”

Fred let you lead him to a bench at the side of the hall, his hand still tingling from where yours had been.

As you both sat down, he turned to face you, his usual confidence returning in a slow, steady wave, “I’m Fred, by the way."

You laughed, tucking a strand of glitter-dusted hair behind your ear. “I know. You and George are kind of hard to miss.”

Fred’s grin widened, his chest fluttering at the sound of your laugh. “Yeah? Well, you’re kind of hard to forget...uh?" As if on cue, you told him your name. "Y/N." You smiled. "Y/N..." He repeated back, how fitting, a pretty name for a pretty girl.

Your eyes softened, and for a moment, you studied Fred's features. He did the same, glancing at your lips occasionally.

You'd always seen him from afar, to you he was just a prankster, a jokester, busy with his schemes, you'd never thought you'd actually come face to face with him.

But now that you did, you saw him in a different light, almost.

“If this is how you usually apologise,” you said, your voice light again, “I’m scared to see what happens when you’re not sorry.”

Fred chuckled, shaking his head. “Stick around, and I’ll show you.”

You leaned back slightly, your smile lingering. “I just might.”

And in that moment, Fred knew—he didn’t just want to impress you. He wanted you, all of you, your wit, your laughter, your sparkling eyes.

He just wanted to be yours.

[gojosconsort]

gojo being obsesseddd with ur stretch marks

𓂃୨ৎ mdni. oral sex (f receiving), body insecurity, cum in pants

satoru’s got you pinned on the bed, thighs spread, his hoodie shoved up to your chin. you’re trying to hide, hands tugging the fabric down to cover the stretch marks on your hips and belly, silvery lines you’ve always hated. “stop,” you mumble, cheeks burning, looking away. “they’re gross.” his eyes narrow, blue and intense, and he pulls your hands away, pinning them above your head.

“gross?” he snaps, almost angry. “these?” he traces the marks on your hip, fingers rough, claiming. “baby, i’m fucking obsessed.” you squirm, doubtful, but he slides down, kissing a line across your belly, lips lingering on each mark. “gonna show you how much i love ‘em,” he mutters, tugging your panties slow, dragging them down your thighs, eyes locked on the stretch marks like they’re art.

“satoru,” you whisper, nervous, but he’s already kissing your hips, tongue flicking over a mark, then another on your thigh, biting softly. “these are mine,” he says, voice low, hands gripping your hips, thumbs rubbing the marks. he dives in, tongue lapping at your folds, slow at first, then deeper, plunging into you, nose brushing your clit. you gasp, hips bucking, and he groans against you, the vibration making you moan.

he’s relentless, sucking your clit, licking every inch, his hands never leaving your stretch marks, stroking them like they’re sacred. “taste so fucking good,” he mumbles, tongue circling, and you’re shaking, pleasure building fast. watching you writhe, your moans loud and needy, gets him hard, cock throbbing in his sweats, leaking through the fabric. “love seeing you like this,” he pants, lips on a mark, then back to your pussy, eating you like he’s starved.

you’re close, trembling, and he doubles down, tongue fast, hands pressing your thighs wider, thumbs on your marks. “come for me,” he growls, and you do, hard, crying out, body shaking as you drench his face. he moans, louder than you, and you realize he’s cumming too, untouched, soaking his sweats just from watching you.

he kisses your thigh, then your belly, soft on a mark. “still think they’re gross?” he teases, grabbing a cloth to clean you, pulling you close. “fuck, baby, you’re so hot you made me blow my load in my pants.” he grins, winking, and you laugh, insecurity gone, melting into his arms, loved completely.

[vampzity]

strut | C.SN

“how you pick me up, pull ‘em down, turn me ‘round, oh it just makes sense.” — bed chem, sabrina carpenter

pairing: bf! san x f! reader

while being treated to a shopping spree by your loving boyfriend, he can’t help his intrusive thoughts when he sees you trying on such short dresses. all he wants is to get a taste of you.

[warnings]: MDNI 18+, smut, public sex, dom! san, sub! reader, oral (f.receiving), pet names (baby, princess, angel, good girl), praising, bite marks, clit play, fingering

word count: 1.6k

San sat on the bench in the fitting room, holding bags filled with clothes you picked out. You protested a bunch of times, but he loved to spoil you— offering to pay for the loads of clothes you picked out.

He watched you try on clothes and criticize them, while also falling love with others. It was cute. Most guys hated shopping with their girlfriends, often being annoyed with how long it took or how indecisive their lover may be. But not San. He absolutely adored you. The way you strut in front of him, how you did little turns and spins so that he could see the outfit in its full glory.

God it turned him on in ways he couldn’t explain.

“Does this look okay? It feels so short.”

His eyes scanned your body, tilting his head as you slowly turned. His eyes widened as he caught a glimpse of your ass peeking from below the end of the dress. It wasn’t too obvious unless someone blatantly stared, but his reaction was enough to tell you.

You sighed, pulling the dress down and holding it in place as your face flushed red from embarrassment.

“It is too short.”

You quickly turned around, about to walk back to the room when San got up. He grabbed onto your arm, his body pressing up against yours just enough for you to feel his member. He leaned over, his mouth just inches away from your ear.

“You look beautiful princess.” his free hand snaked around your waist, pushing your ass onto his clothed cock. He groaned softly, shutting his eyes.

“You can wear whatever makes you feel that way, just know it gets a reaction out of me.”

San let get of you, his hand brushed by your ass softly as he walked back to the bags. He picked them up off the ground and quickly scanned the area for anyone else who may be around. Before you could say anything, he grabbed your hand and pulled you back into your room. He closed the door, locking it and setting the bags on the side.

He towered over you, his dark gaze meeting yours as you stood there in shock. San gave you a small smile, his hand cupping your cheek and pulling you in for a soft kiss. His kisses were slow, but you could feel him wanting more. Craving more of you.

His teeth grazed your bottom lip, sucking against it constantly as he struggled to catch his breath. The kisses trailed down your cheek and to your neck, his breathing becoming staggered and heavy.

“Can I have a taste of you angel?”

You nodded, his tongue gliding up your neck. You felt your blood rush to your head, your ears turning just as red as your cheeks. San stuck his hand into your underwear, his fingers resting against your folds. He looked at you, raising as eyebrow as you bit your lip and struggled to maintain your composure.

His fingers spread you open slightly, moving between your folds to gather your slick. Your eyes fluttered closed, throwing your head back as he touched you. He was sick minded, and he knew how easily his touch worked on you.

“If you’re quiet for me,” San circled your bud lightly, his lips still pecking your neck. “I’ll let you cum.”

He pulled his hand out of you, kneeling beneath you and spreading your legs slightly. Your breath hitched as he dragged his tongue against your clothed heat. He looked up at you, head tilted and his dark eyes clouded with lust.

“Understood?”

You bit your lip, nodding in agreement as his grip onto your thighs tightened. He smiled, lifting on of your leg up and placing it on the bench. He pulled his hat off and set it beside him, eyes locked on your aching cunt and its wetness leaving a spot on your underwear. What a pretty sight. In his eyes, you were simply a sweet treat.

He kissed against the underwear, sucking on your clothed clit softly and swirling his tongue around it. You threw your head back, brushing your fingers through his hair.

“Mm, you like this don’t you?” he glanced at you for a moment, raising his eyebrow. You quickly nodded, feeling tongue flick against your covered bud.

“What a little slut. I didn’t think you’d want me to do this in public.”

San kissed your inner thighs softly, making your breath hitch at his actions. You felt his teeth sink into your skin, making you whimper in response. You quickly covered your mouth, locking eyes with his deep glare as his eyebrows furrowed. He shook his head, continuing to leave countless bite marks across your inner thigh. With every bite he dealt you could feel the pain burning through your skin, though you couldn’t help that it felt so good.

“Sannie,” you mumbled, feeling your core heat up as his bites trailed closer to your cunt.

He looked up at you a small smile painting his face as his fingers toyed with your underwear.

“What is it? Use your words for me princess.”

He tugged the hem of your underwear, pulling them down your legs as he kissed your thighs softly. He was merely inches away from your soaking cunt, your legs shaking as you wanted nothing more than for him to taste you. San gave you a small look, nodding as he waited for you to reply.

“Please,” you mumbled, heart beating out of your chest.

He dragged his tongue up your thigh, stopping just beside your folds. You felt a chill run up your spine in reaction, making your hole clench around nothing.

“Please what baby?” he raised an eyebrow at you, chuckling to himself as he watched you fall apart.

“Please touch me..”

He hummed quietly at your words, placing his thumb against your clit and lifting its hold enough to expose it. He dragged his tongue between your folds, his lips sucking on your bud. You threw your head back biting your bottom lip as you tried not to cry out from pleasure.

San swirled his tongue around your heat, hungrily lapping up your juices as you struggled to maintain your balance. Your fingers ran through his hair, gripping it softly. He snaked his fingers up your thighs, spreading your folds to expose your core. You threatened to moan, bringing your hand up to cover your mouth.

“Shh.. what did I say?”

He pushed two fingers into your aching hole, watching as your walls clenched around them. He thrusted into you slowly as his tongue flicked your bud, leaving you a shaky mess. San curled his fingers slightly, pushing them against your sweet spot just perfectly as he spat against your clit.

He pulled his mouth away from you for a second, earning a look of annoyance from you. A mix of his spit and your juices stringing from his lips as he looked up at you. His chin was drenched in you, as if he knew no manners, like he was being starved of you.

“Taste so good angel. Just want to devour you whole.”

His sharp eyes pierced into your own. San pulled your cunt against his lips, his tongue beginning to fuck you as his nose brushed against your sensitive bud. You breathed out in pleasure, wanting to scream his name.

You began to grind against his face as he made out with your cunt, not missing a single spot. You were desperate— tired of playing the waiting game when all you wanted to do was drench his pretty face in your arousal. San noticed this, pulling his tongue out of your hole and pressing a soft kiss at the opening.

“Wanna cum for me baby?” he whispered, looking up at you. You quickly nodded, feeling your walls contract around nothing.

“Be a good girl and use your words like I told you.”

You tried to fight back whimpers as his fingers touched you softly. San teased you with his tongue, flicking at your sensitive bud slow enough to drive you crazy. He kissed it lightly, a small smirk appearing on his face.

“Yes, yes, please don’t stop agh!”

San took you onto his face, his mouth practically enveloped around you. He stuck his fingers inside of your aching hole as he abused your clit with his tongue. Your grip on his brown locks tightened, a tingling sensation rushing throughout your body.

You moved with the motion of his tongue, throwing your head back as your shaking breaths turned into small moans. His lips slobbered around your folds, gathering your slick with every lick he dealt.

“That’s it princess, let it out for me.” he kept his dark gaze on you, making your knees buckle.

San curled his fingers inside of you, his pace moving quickly as he worked to stretch you out. Your walls clenched around his fingers, juices dripping down the sides of them as you struggled to not make a mess.

You covered your mouth as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. San used his free hand to keep your legs open as you tried to force them close.

“Aww c’mon, you got it.” he pressed his lips against your thigh, his thumb swirling around your clit as his fingers still pounded into you.

“That’s it, let it out baby.”

You pushed his head into your cunt, feeling his lips smash onto your swollen bud as he sucked on it harshly. Within seconds you came undone, your arousal dripping down San’s hand. A large smile painted his face as he pulled his fingers out of you, licking your arousal clean off of you.

“You look so pretty when I have you like this baby.” he licked your juices off of his fingers, soon pulling your underwear up.

“I wish I could have you like this all the time.”

💌: this was literally a spur of the moment.. his pictures did something to me..

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[cipheramnesia]

One funny piece of media criticism floating around Tumblr dot hellsite dot com is talking about making movies that are just fun, The Mummy with Brendan Frasier being a premiere example. Generally the way it goes is, "they don't have to be good, just fun." Thing is, making a fun movie like The Mummy is a lot of work. Exciting adventure stories don't just happen by accident, and part of the immense skill of such movies is making it all look easy.

I'm sometimes taken off guard by a movie that's better than expected - usually because they seem low budget and the summary sounds boring. Sometimes it's because it looks like another boring and cliche action movie. Plenty of those exist too, it's not like thousands of creators are falling ass backwards into brilliant filmmaking, Venom is an outlier. But it's really common to experience the surprise of audiences about some kind of big dumb action movie, and I think that's because so many action movies are big and dumb, few people understand that good action movies are smart.

You know what's good about the Mummy? Why it's good? Because it's a movie that knows every genre cliche the audience is waiting for, and chooses its moments to break those cliches with great care for maximum impact. It's good because it's direction knows how to build up great tension with the plot, through foreshadowing, through audience awareness, through genre standards. And the release is beautifully controlled. The "wrong side of the river" line is funny under any circumstances but it drops as a capstone on a very intense escape scene which makes it KILL, every time. When John Hannah's character turns out to be, against all the pre-loaded genre expectations and foreshadowing, actually a generally honest stand up guy, it's so much fun! Not by accident though. It's on purpose. It's a big dumb action movie but it's a big dumb action movie made by people who are very very good at making big dumb action movies.

That's really the thing of it all. There's now a hundred MCU movies that just turned The Mummy into a formula, they've carved out all the one liners and twists and turns mechanically, but they're not big dumb movies, because they're not allowed to be made with the kind of adoration of the genre that you get in smaller films, films that aren't locked into a three year product rollout plan. But you can still get big exciting movies if you look around for em. They didn't go away, they just got pushed out to the edge.

But I gotta beg again - take the time to recognize that when those movies that seem made without a thought or a care somehow manage to hit with you, give you a great big grin and a sense of excitement, remember that's not an accident or luck, someone probably plotted that out and made it fun on purpose, with care.

[boneblushed]

And, boy, you got her

synopsis Rafe’s in charge of the pledges during Rush Week. Hazing isn’t a thing. Making you feel so high school is.

wc 3.6K

a/n omgggg Euro Trip Rafe <3333 I was living on pledgetok last week and just couldn’t not write something about it

“Holy shit,” Noah mutters, surveying the crowd over his red cup, “I swear they get scrawnier every single year.”

Rafe nods gravely, taking a pull of his beer. “It’s fucking grim.”

“Like — fuck, look at those two.” Noah gestures toward the shaded veranda, a fresh coat of gloss making its balustrades shine. Huddled in one corner, attempting to take up as little space as possible, two boys donning UNC merch survey the crowd in tandem. “We weren’t that fucking scraggy as freshman, were we?”

“You two weren’t,” Kelce snorts, coming up behind them. Topper brings up his rear, mid-bite of his loaded hotdog. “Thornton definitely was though.”

“Oi!” Topper protests, his words garbled by half chewed sausage. “S’wasn’t that bad. C’mon.” He turns to Rafe then, swallowing his mouthful. “But seriously, you locked in any potentials?”

Rafe furrows his brow thoughtfully, looking back over Delta Chi’s yard. Unsurprisingly, it’s far too early to say. Though the barbecue that they’re hosting is a good way for pledges to mingle, it isn’t exactly hazing material; they’re going to have to get creative.

“Maybe,” he replies finally, shrugging. “We’ll just have to see I guess.”

He tips back his red cup again, swallowing the last dregs of beer before acquiescing. As he’s about to announce his need for a refill, a few pledges sidle up to their group, looking hopeful.

Not overtly, of course. Painstakingly hiding their eagerness behind an armour of insouciance.

“Rafe,” the tallest of the three greets, handing him another red cup. The golden liquid inside it brims to the surface, its white foam dissolving in mocking. “Hey, bro. You need another?”

Rafe raises his eyebrows, hiding a grin. “Shit. Table service already?”

The boy grins in tandem, looking a little sheepish. “Big fan, man. I’m Dylan.” He motions at the two guys on either side of him, wearing matching squints and backwards caps. “This is Rahul and Xav, we’re all here from Trinity.”

“Durham and Chapel Hill?” Noah enquires, whistling approvingly when they nod. “Fuck, we used to love having away games there. Those Trin cheerleaders…”

“Haha, shit, what was that chic’s name again?” Rafe asks then, a pull of mirth as he turns to Noah. “The one you messed around with in junior year?”

“Blake,” Noah answers, groaning in a mock-wistful sort of way. “They didn’t make ‘em like her at the Academy.”

Rafe snorts, sending the pledges a sage glance. “Nah. They made ‘em better.”

Noah raises his eyebrows, his brown eyes glinting with amusement. “Oh, so we are allowed to objectify your girl then, Cameron?”

“Damn, so you’re tied down?” Xavier pipes up, his voice gravelly and low on purpose. Overtly masculine, like he’s trying hard to be red-blooded. “Your girl doesn’t mind you partying?”

Rafe frowns. “Why would she mind?”

“Uh,” Xavier balks, pulling at the bill of his backwards cap, “shit. I don’t know… like, doesn’t she get pissed that you’re constantly around sorority girls?”

“HA —” Topper laughs, and then he falters, thwarted by Rafe’s warning glower. “Uh.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Let’s just say Cameron doesn’t give her any reasons to be suspicious.”

“Because he’s obsessed with her,” Noah adds, unperturbed by Rafe’s expression. He pauses then, an amusing idea popping into his head. “Which means…” he continues, returning Rafe’s glare with a trust me one of his own, “you guys should be too.”

Rafe doesn’t trust him. Like, at all. He sends him a bewildered look, unsure where he’s going with this. “White — what?”

Noah ignores him. He downs his beer and crushes the red cup in his hand, deftly aiming it at the nearest bag of trash. “So,” he says, eyeing the three pledges with interest. “How serious are you guys about rushing Delt?”

“Pretty serious, bro,” Rahul answers, looking to his friends for support. “Think we got a shot?”

Noah throws his arm around Rafe’s neck, his strong bicep taut as he shoots them a grin. “Depends, man, I might know how we could figure that out though.” He begins to steer Rafe away from them, sending one last, faux-somber look over his shoulder. “Be right back, yeah?”

Rafe, whose bewilderment is quickly giving way curiosity, allows himself to be marshalled out of earshot without complaints.

He shrugs Noah off of him once they’re on the verandah, his features ever-bemused as he turns toward him. “The fuck was that about?”

“Bro, I know exactly how we’re going to haze these motherfuckers,” Noah replies, his voice lilted with mirth. “You know… without breaking any rules.”

The bewildered expression on Rafe’s face doesn’t acquiesce. “Okay… how?”

“Instead of getting them to be our bitches,” he answers, a mischievous grin making home on his features. “We’re going to get them to be our girlfriends’ bitches.”

Rafe frowns. “Bro. What?”

“Cameron, it’s perfect.” He swipes Rafe’s beer from his hand and takes a generous pull. “What do frat guys hate more than being called scrawny as fuck?”

“Uh. Doing assignments?” Rafe answers blankly, still frowning. He doesn’t have it in him to think too hard about Noah’s profferance. He’s on hour two of manning this boring event, hour four since he bid you farewell, and all Rafe can bear to think about right now is the imminent taste of your peach-scented lips.

Noah shakes his head. “No, dumbass. Being called a simp.”

“Wrong,” Rafe answers, “I don’t mind that shit at all.”

“You’re the exception,” Noah replies matter-of-factly. “You and Y/N have always been the exception. C’mon, I’m talking about us,” he places his palm over his breastbone solemnly, “mere mortals.”

Rafe narrows his eyes. “Fuck off. How would that even work?”

“We…” Noah pauses to think, a slightly furrow to his brow, “alright, I got it. We assign the pledges to our girlfriends, one by one. Give them a week to make a good impression — you know, carry their bags, buy them flowers, all that sentimental crap you love.”

“You really think the guys’ll agree to this?” Rafe asks, sounding reluctant. “I mean… I don’t know if I’m alright with a bunch of idiots holding doors for my girl.”

“But you’re an idiot that holds a door for your girl,” Noah answers, not missing a beat.

“Fuck off, White.”

“I’m serious. It’ll be funny. And look… if you’re worried about Y/N, I know she’ll find it adorable as fuck.”

Rafe shakes his head. “No way. She didn’t find high-school me adorable.”

Noah raises his eyebrows skeptically. “You’d be surprised, man. Besides, these guys aren’t going to be like high-school you. High-school you was a douchebag.”

“A douchebag who got the girl.”

“A douchebag who got the girl after he stopped acting like a douchebag.” Noah smirks then. “A douchebag who’d give all these fuckers a run for their money if he was pledging Delt this year.”

Rafe grins in tandem, stealing his beer back to take a big swig. “Alright, shit, alright. Harmless shit though, right? Chivalry and all that?”

“Harmless as hell,” Noah agrees. “C’mon. You really think any of these guys has the balls to make a pass at one of our girls?”

“Easy for you to say, White. You don’t fucking have a girl.”

Noah frowns. “What d’you mean? Aren’t we going halves on Y/N?”

“Holy fuck, Noah,” Rafe groans, almost spitting out his mouthful of beer. “If Y/N heard the shit you said when she wasn’t around, she’d probably kill you.”

“Nah,” Noah replies, seemingly unperturbed. “She loves me.”

“Well,” Rafe says grimly, crushing his own empty cup in his head. “She might do now, but she sure as hell won’t by the end of this week.”

—

The first time it happens, you’re understandably perplexed.

You’re en-route to your 9AM, bag strap denting your left shoulder, when a stranger falls into your step and swipes it from your figure. It’s a motion so quick and deft you initially think you’re getting mugged.

As you double back in bewilderment, he proffers, “you alright with this?”

“Uh.” You balk. “What?”

“Your bag,” he answers, readjusting it on his own shoulder. He seems earnest. Nervous, even. “It looked heavy. I can carry it to class for you, if you want?”

You allow a pause to take him in.

“No, I’m…” another pause, more of his demeanour on display. Backwards cap, crisp white polo shirt, smile lines exposing the ghost of a grin on his face. A familiar grin, the kind that pulls a soft, maudlin feeling from your ribcage. “Look, if you’re trying to hit on me —”

“No, no,” he interrupts quickly, his eyes widening in a panic. “Shit — no, don’t tell Cameron I’m hitting on you. I’m just…”

“Wait a minute,” your eyes narrow accusatorially, because of course he’s behind this chivalrous display, “you know my boyfriend?”

The stranger grimaces sheepishly. “Uh. Yeah.”

“Explain.”

“It’s… uh… well — basically, I’m pledging Delt,” he answers haltingly, self effacement juxtaposing his frat boy exterior. “Rafe’s asked us to be all gentlemanly and shit for pledge week, I don’t know. To you guys, I mean. Like… the current frat member’s girls?”

“Oh my god,” you groan. “No he hasn’t.”

“Shit.” He looks far more nervous now that he did five minutes ago. “He didn’t tell you?”

“No,” you grumble, pulling your phone out of your pocket. “No he did not.”

Rafe’s on speed dial. He picks up on the first ring, the way he always does for you.

“Hey baby,” his gravelly timbre crackles through the phone, the low hum of frat house chatter audible in the background. “What’s up?”

“Don’t even. You know what’s up Rafael.”

A pause. When Rafe speaks again, his voice is quick and placating. “It was Noah’s idea.”

“Of course it was.”

“Dylan’s not playing up, is he?”

You raise your eyebrows at the stranger then, assessing him faux-suspiciously. “No way. He’s doing a better job than you ever did in high school.”

“Woah woah woah,” Rafe replies, a playful lilt to his tone. “That fucker’s not calling you dream girl or something, is he?”

“Worse. He’s being respectful of my boundaries.”

“Oh shit. I fucking knew this was a bad idea.”

You shake your head in exasperation, trying not to laugh. The poor stranger’s still standing there at attention, your leather bag looking ridiculous on his arm. “Rafe. Tell me he’s the only one.”

“He’s one…” Rafe starts slowly, sounding sheepish, “of three. Four, counting me.” In the background, you hear Noah pipe up and add, “five, Cameron. How could you forget me?”

“You’re un-fucking-believable, Noah White,” you shout through the phone.

“I love you too, Y/N,” Noah sings, and then he groans, no doubt shoved to the side by his indignant best friend. It’s Rafe on the phone again, voice sweet and thick as molasses as he says, “they’ll behave, baby, and make your life easier in the process. I promise.”

“What?” You accuse, fighting back a smile. “Like you did in high school?”

“Fuck no,” he replies, the grin on his face audible. “They’ll be nothing like I was, sweetheart.”

“What?” You tease. “Absolutely insufferable?”

“And absolutely in love with you.”

You raise your eyebrows. “How can you be so sure?”

“They’re under strict instruction. Have a shiner waiting for them if they pull something funny.”

Another exasperated laugh bubbles out of you, and you begin walking forward again, motioning at the boy named Dylan to follow in your step. “Right. So the boundaries are on purpose, are they?”

“The respect, too. No being inappropriate and charming at the same time.”

“And why not?” You ask faux-indignantly. “What if I like being objectified?”

“Can’t have you falling in love with them, can I?”

“Hey,” you argue, frowning stubbornly. “That is not what made me fall in love with you.”

“It isn’t?”

“Well,” you balk, “not solely that.”

“You’re fucking sexy,” he recites devotedly, almost yells, and you can hear the collective groan of his frat brothers in the background. “Are you wearing those Lululemon pants right now? Point is, I’m thinking about your ass in those Lululemon pants right now.”

“Rafe, I was fucking kidding. Stop.”

“No you weren’t.” You know he’s right; you can picture that stupid smirk on his face. It makes your cheeks warm. Asshole. “You’re blushing now, aren’t you?”

“Anyway.”

“Anyway,” Rafe agrees. “No funny business, alright? Just lots of good deeds.”

Good deeds. You suppose you could get used to good deeds, the embarrassment of attention notwithstanding.

You let out a defeated sigh, halting in front of your 9AM class. “You so, so owe me.”

“I so, so love you,” Rafe replies, and it makes your pulse leap; you’ll never get used to this feeling. “See you later, yeah?”

“Uh huh. Love you.”

Dylan waits until you’ve ended the call before saying farewell, dutifully handing your leather bag back to you and giving you a mock salute. The way he does it, all sheepish and genuine with a charming smile on his face, makes your heart twinge in a junior year of high-school sort of way. You’re feeling sentimental. It’s sweet.

You’re reminded of Rafe before he was yours, stumbling over himself to win your favour. Confusing chivalry with courting, objectifying you in the name of flirting.

Insufferable, but sweet nonetheless. You digress.

—

The next time it happens, you’re ambushed at your favourite cafe.

A dutiful Delta Phi pledge has already queued up and purchased you coffee, handing it over to you with a blushing bouquet of tulips.

You raise your eyebrows at him questioningly. “Is that…?”

“Uh, an oat iced coffee with vanilla?” He asks, sounding nervous. “I asked Cameron for your order.”

“Didn’t ask me about pastries, though,” a voice behind you adds, rough and familiar with a sweetness around the edges. Rafe circles your waist with ease and pulls you into his chest, sponging a soft kiss to your temple before handing you a brown bag.

A glossy, Daily Bread sticker shines on its exterior proudly.

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you look up at him expectantly. “Tell me you didn’t drive back home for a single croissant.”

“I didn’t drive back home for a single croissant,” Rafe replies. He grins then, looking that same, sheepish genuine that pulls a maudlin feeling. “I drove back home for twenty.”

“Rafe. Why?”

“Because you like Daily Bread,” he replies matter-of-factly, like it’s obvious.

You shake your head in exasperation, tip-toeing up to press a quick kiss to his lips. It becomes less quick against better judgement. He tastes like spearmint gum and cold brew, the hand he has held to your waist tightening ever so slightly. Slipping under your shirt, massaging the soft skin he finds there expertly, discreetly. Too much for 8am on a Wednesday morning, sans coffee. Your face feels on fire. You pull away in a hurry.

Meanwhile, the freshman pledge balks at the exchange, looking out of place.

Rafe frowns bemusedly at your diffidence, only clocking the reason when you nod over at him.

“I’ll walk her over Ben,” he says, dismissing him. “You’re off the hook, bro.”

“Shit.” The boy named Ben grimaces; he needs to get his hours in, and doesn’t deem this a fair ambush. He scrambles for an excuse. “Right. Can I still give her the flowers?”

“Of course you can,” you beam, accepting them gratefully. You look up at Rafe then, asking, “And if I want to walk with Benjamin?”

Rafe grins down at you, disbelieving. “Do you, baby?”

“As a matter of fact, yes,” you say, wriggling out of his grasp. “He got me flowers.”

Rafe falters, his eyes widening in surprise. “Sweetheart, I got you a croissant.”

“Ben got me a coffee,” you hedge. “And flowers.”

“Y/N,” he placates.

“Rafael,” you echo, unperturbed by his exasperation. You take a sip your coffee. “I’ll see you later, okay? Ben’s ticking off a good deed this morning.”

Poor Ben looks helpless, taking the brunt of Rafe’s glare as you motion for him to hold the door for you.

“C’mon Ben, we’re going to be late.”

“But…” Ben pauses, his eyes flitting to Rafe nervously. “This is fine, right?”

Rafe sighs, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth in defeat. “Yeah, bro. You’re good.” He looks to you, then. “You’re unbelievable.”

You smile sweetly. “I’m wearing the Lulu leggings.”

“Oh I noticed,” Rafe replies, his blue eyes falling down your figure in slow, reverent paces. “It’s why I want to be the one holding the door for you.”

You roll your eyes. “Men only want one thing.”

Rafe grins. “Yeah. You.”

—

By the end of the week, you’re more used to the chivalry than you’re willing to admit.

You’ve enjoyed free iced lattes and filled your dorm with gorgeous bouquets, no door left unopened and no walk to class left unescorted. And really, every pledge you’ve come across has been pleasant and unassuming, albeit absolutely terrified of Rafe and therefore extra obliging on instinct.

They’ve even offered to do favours for you, got you into sought after Pilates classes and done last minute grocery runs on your behalf. It’s put you in this constant state of mild exasperation, like you can’t believe you’re worthy of this much love and chivalry.

It’s exactly the way you felt back in high-school with Rafe, and this revelation pulls lots of funny feelings from your stomach, from your chest. Feelings you’ve forgotten that are all yours and all his. Because it’s strange, having someone other than Rafe taking care of you. (Or Noah.) It’s strange because it makes you realise just how much he adored you back in the day.

These emotions come to a head at the pledge week closing bash, Delta Phi lit up with fluorescent lights in technicolour. Inebriation ensues, beer pong follows, and an impromptu DJ deck plays endless songs with heavy bass.

Rafe Cameron has you pulled close, as always, the taut muscle of his forearm pressing heat to your exposed waist. You’re a few drinks down and hyperaware of his proximity, ankles touching, thighs too, torsos close with your head resting on his shoulder.

“I think I like Dylan the best,” you announce suddenly.

“Yeah?” Rafe asks, kneading your skin absentmindedly.

You nod. “He’s sweet. Told me all about his girl back home.”

Rafe grins then, shaking his head bemusedly. “You’re such a sucker for love, sweetheart.”

“Hey!” You glare up at him faux-incensed, looking accusatory. “So are you!”

“Shhhh,” Rafe murmurs playfully. “Not so loud, you’ll fuck up my street cred.”

You scoff. “Since when do you care about street cred?”

“Shit, you’re right,” Rafe agrees easily, leaning down to draw your lips in for a kiss. He’s all patchouli and musk, beer on his tongue and unchaste intentions in his touch. When he pulls away, his lips are still an inch from yours, his voice rougher than it was a second ago, “I don’t care. Like, at fucking all.”

“Good,” Noah snorts from behind him. “‘Cause you never had any to begin with, bro.”

“There you are,” you say then, eyeing Noah over Rafe’s shoulder. There’s a mock accusatory expression on your face, softened by mirth and the alcohol on your lips. “Have you been hiding from me, White?”

Noah grins sheepishly, taking a pull of his beer. “Maybe.”

You narrow your eyes. “Tell me. When did you become worse than Rafael?”

“I didn’t become worse!” Noah insists. “He just became better. You know, after he got the girl.”

You make a face. “Smooth.”

“Hey,” Noah raises his arms in surrender, looking faux-somber, “someone’s gotta teach the next generation, don’t they? I’m committed to their education.” He raises his eyebrows then, a mischievous glint in his eye. “C’mon, don’t act like you didn’t love it.”

Rafe grins. “She totally fucking loved it.”

You aim a glare at the pair of them, failing miserably at hiding your amusement. “So maybe I didn’t mind it. Sue me.”

“Of course you loved it,” Noah says, throwing his arm around you and pulling you into his side. “You love Cameron, don’t you?”

You narrow your eyes. “Opinions vary.”

“You love me?” Noah tries.

“You fucking wish.”

“Everyone fucking wishes,” Rafe says then, throwing his arm around you too, your figure wedged between the pair of them. Frat boy sandwich, you think tiredly. If high-school you could see you now, you’re pretty sure she’d have an aneurysm. “Especially when you’re in Lululemon.”

“Rafe.”

“I’m kidding. Not really. They all love you, you know that, yeah?”

You look up at him questioningly. “The pledges?”

“Uh huh,” Rafe replies, raising his eyebrows at you. “This is what I was afraid of, you know.”

“What?” You ask, lifting yours in tandem.

“Everyone falling in love with you, like I did in high school.”

You scrunch up your nose at him, your cheeks warming in diffidence. “No one’s fallen in love with me, don’t be silly.”

“I have,” Noah pipes up unhelpfully.

“Shut up, Noah. I saw you talking to Georgia just before.”

Noah grins, pulling away and offering you a mock salute. “Guilty as charged.” He turns to survey the crowd, spotting her figure on the fairy-light lit porch. “Speaking of…”

And he’s gone before you’re able to tease him any further, leaving Rafe to guide you out of his side and into his chest. You wrap your arms around his neck, his hands exerting a warm, steady pressure into the curve of your waist.

“As I was saying,” you continue, frowning up at him playfully. “No one’s fallen in love with me.”

Rafe’s unconvinced. His gaze skates down your figure again, a tortured groan falling from his throat. “Have you seen you, sweetheart?”

You roll your eyes, face hot and self conscious. “And even if they have,” you add, “it doesn’t matter.”

Rafe raises his eyebrows. “It doesn’t?”

“No way. Because I’m in love with you, not any of them.”

Rafe grins then, a devastatingly handsome look on his face. “I’ll never get used to hearing that.”

“I’ll never get used to saying it.”

[jarofstyles]

Haze

Hi bestie babes, here is a best-friends-to-best-friends-with-benefits piece! I am unsure if I'm doing a second part but if I did it'll be later on down the line.

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WC- 8k

warnings- use of marijuana, friends with benefits, biting, daddy kink, soft Dom H hehe

“H? Do you really think I’m pretty?” Y/N’s voice was slightly slurred, a mix of both tired and high as a kite from the joint they’d finished just a bit ago. The cool air flowed in from the window they’d cracked in order for her landlord not to get a call to complain, but she welcomed the chill. She always got a bit hot in her skin when the high hit her. “Don’t lie to me. Give it to me straight.

She loved smoking, sure, but she hated how it made her mind think about things she had purposely been putting off. Like her awful fucking dating life and how stupidly lonely she was.

Harry sat next to her on the sofa, his legs spread in an obnoxious manspread, his fingers messing with the Rubik’s cube. It wasn’t uncommon for them to smoke together- he was her best friend- but she wanted his opinion. The poor man was going to be subject to her insecurity.

Her string of bad dating experiences lately had made it hard to believe it wasn’t a her problem.

"Pretty? Babe, you're beautiful. Come off it." he mumbled, eyes still on the puzzle game. He was in that fluid mindset, neither here nor there. His reassurance felt nice but at the same time, a little vague. Her face contorted in a frown as she looked over at him. He was still baked, so she got it, but still. A little more would be nice.

“You have to say that. You’re my best friend. Tell me honestly, H. What is.. what is wrong with me? Because I don’t know how someone can go on so many bad dates and it not be a them problem.” It had been plaguing her the whole time and harshing the high. The words needed to come out. “I’m the common denominator.”

Finally, he put the Rubik's cube down and turned to face her fully, his gaze locked on hers. Sure, he was dazed from the weed, but he wanted to be sincere with her once he had heard how she had actually been a bit torn up from it. As hard as she tried, it wasn’t easy for her to hide her emotions from him. Even high Harry could see past the playful quips she had made lately. It had only been a matter of time before she had asked him about it and in his opinion, it was bullshit. There was nothing wrong with her at all. Y/N was amazing, but it was only natural to become a little insecure when someone had the string of bad luck like she had.

"Y/N, there's absolutely nothing wrong with you. I'm being completely honest with you, I swear. It's not you, it's them.” He winced knowing how cheesy it sounded but it couldn’t really be helped at the moment. “You're a fuckin’ amazing, smart, beautiful, funny, talented, kind person... I could list off all your good qualities cause there’s loads of ‘em, but m’high and can't think straight enough right now t’give you the fancier words like… exuberant? Pretty sure that one’s right ."

Y/N let out a little laugh. She could hear it in the low tone of his voice and how it seemed to take him longer than normal to say things when he was stoned and trying his absolute hardest to get that out, but it was a little cute. Too bad it wasn’t enough to get her out of her wallowing.

“Then I’m doomed.” She groaned, sinking into the couch. Her hands came up to cover her face, a tired sound leaving her as she tried to reset. “Dude, do you know how entirely and overwhelmingly exhausting it is? And don’t you dare call me dramatic.” Her eye peeped up at him before she fell back into a huff. “I know you get sex on tap but for the rest of us normal folks, it’s like a war zone out there.”

Harry snickefed at her little quip as he watched her sink into the couch. Letting out a sigh as he really thought about it though, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. "I understand how you feel, trust me. It's not easy for anyone. Although I have to admit, I can't exactly relate to your dating struggles, not really. I just happen to be lucky enough to have a very dedicated fanbase."

He was joking but… not really. He always teased her about this. The women who tended to hang out around the garage or try to get near him after hours to ride him in the cars that he just fixed… It wasn't hard for him to get what he wanted. Being good looking, tattooed, solid and single, it got you a lot of places, and a lot of ass. If only she could relate.

“Yeah, yeah. Slut.” She grumbled lightheartedly, kicking her foot against his thigh. It wasn’t fair it was as toned as it was. “You’re a mechanic and you’ve got all the rich soccer moms throwing themselves at you for a romp in the backseat while their husbands are at work. That’s nice and all, but the dating pool for us commoners is abysmal at best.”

Shooting him a glare, she grabbed the bag of goldfish shaped crackers and popped some into her mouth. “At this point I’d be fine with a friends-with-benefits sorta thing- but god damn it, I just want someone to love me at some point.” There was a moment of silence before she cleared her throat. They didn’t really discuss their sex lives and stuff often so she took his silence as one of not knowing what to say- which was fair. She was sorta dumping this all on him. In the grand scheme of things it wasn’t that insane. Everyone went through shit like this. “Sorry. I don’t mean to actually be dramatic this time.”

Harry shook his head at her remark, giving her a reassuring smile that had his eyes crinkling at the corners. He locked his gaze on her face as he listened to her speak, his expression softening with understanding instead of the smug joking he was giving off before. "Hey, s’alright babe. You're not being dramatic. It's how you feel, and I understand that. Everyone deserves love, and I have no doubt you'll find it."

He paused for a moment, considering his next words carefully. When he spoke again, his voice low and sincere as he knocked his hand against her thigh to get her to look at him.

"Y/N... can I ask you somethin’? And don’t make it weird.” He warned, making her unsure what the hell he could be asking.

Brushing the hair out of her eyes, she turned to look back at him with a questioning look on her face. “Sure. What’s up?”

Harry seemed to hesitate for a moment, unsure whether he should ask or not. It would most definitely change their dynamic if she was offended or freaked out by it, but regardless he felt like it it was something he knew he had to ask. He shifted on the couch, turning to face her fully, taking a deep breath and letting his gaze lock on hers before speaking.

"Y’know how you were saying how you're open to a friends with benefits thing? And how you're tired of being alone?"

“Yeah…. I literally said it like, two second ago.” She replied, voice slow and drawn out. She knew she was foggy, but damn. Of course she didn’t want to draw conclusions but she had to wonder why he would be bringing that up again. Her heart beat a little harder as she narrowed her eyes at him. “Why?”

His gaze remained steady on hers, his expression unreadable. He took a moment before speaking again, his voice low and slightly hoarse. Of course he wanted to be careful with his words, in the off chance this could offend her but he knew that he’d kick himself for not asking if he avoided it. He took a deep breath before asking the question.

"I was wondering... if you'd be interested in having an arrangement like that... with me."

Blinking rapidly, she had to be sure she wasn’t just hearing things. Usually she wasn’t the type to have hallucinations when high, but she didn’t know if he would ever actually suggest that. “Uh.. can you repeat that?”

Harry smiled softly as he saw her surprise. He knew it was a big ask, but he was committed to the idea now.

Leaning forward, his voice was smooth and deliberate as he repeated his question, this time with more confidence considering she hadn’t completely looked disgusted at the idea.

"I was asking if you'd be interested in having a friend's with benefits arrangement with me. No strings attached, just a... way to fulfill certain needs without the commitment. What would you say to something like that?"

“Yeah, that’s what I thought you said.” The nod was casual, as if that hadn’t just completely freaked her out. Not in a bad way! But in a…. What-the-fuck-my-best-friend-just-asked-me to-casually-hook-up-on-the-regular, sort of way.

“Uh… I’m not saying no, but I have to ask why you’d suggest that? I didn’t think you were attracted to me in the slightest.” It had completely come out of left field. The intent behind complaining wasn’t for him to offer but to get genuine advice from him considering he never seemed to struggle in the dating department.

"Who the hell said I wasn't attracted to you? I’ve always thought you were stunning.” It wasn’t supposed to come off defensively but he had to wonder in the moment if maybe it did. Harry had never once thought of her as anything but mind blowingly gorgeous.

“Okay, but you have to say that. You’re my best friend, like I said before. I just….” Hesitance grew on her face, looking over his own for any sign of joking. If he was, her ego really couldn’t handle another blow. “I really don’t want to be a pity fuck. And I also don’t want to like… no offense to you, I don’t want to sleep with someone who isn’t exclusive with me? Not like in the dating sense but like, I’d ask you not to sleep with anyone else for safety and I don’t know how you’d feel about that.” Maybe she was rambling but thoughts were running rampant in her already overcrowded brain. Asking him not to fuck anyone else felt like an overstep for some reason.

As she spoke, Harry nodded along, listening intently. He understood her hesitation and appreciated the honesty; it was one of the things he had always loved about her- But he certainly didn't want her to feel like a “pity-fuck” either. That was the furthest thing she could be. He could respect her wanting a certain degree of exclusivity, especially for safety. He knew he was a bit of a whore and he wasn’t ashamed of it, but he had full ability and sometimes the wish to be monogamous- more than he expressed. Granted, if it were anyone else he’d probably feel a little suffocated in an ask like that but… It didn’t sound so bad when it came to Y/N.

"I get it," he said, nodding in agreement. Reaching out and placing a hand on her knee, his touch warm and gentle, he tried his best to reassure her. "I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't find you attractive, Y/N. It's not about pity, it's about wanting a connection with someone I know and trust. And it’s not like it isn’t a convenience for me, too. No awkward leaving afterward, no like… ‘here I’ll get you a cab’ or saying no to a sleepover. We’ve slept in the same bed loads of times and you know I love a cuddle..”

Sharpening her gaze on him, she tilted her head. “Is this because you wanna do some crazy kinky stuff? Cause I’m open but I dunno how crazy I’ll get.” She was kind of kidding…. But kinda not. There were her own things she wanted to explore, but she didn’t want to be a lab rat.

Harry's eyebrows raised at her question, slightly taken aback. He couldn't help but laugh lightly at her tone, but there was also a hint of genuine interest in his reply.

"You really think I'm into kink, huh? Some sort of freak in the sheets?” Wiggling his brows, he teased her. It wasn’t as if it wasn’t obvious that he was a bit of a frequent fucker, but he didn’t have much shame in that. It wasn’t a kiss and tell sort of situation, but he wasn’t shy about letting her know he’d had a lovely night the day prior when need be. “Well, maybe. But no, that's not the only reason..." He let out a breath, a smirk on his lips. "But I'd loveeee to find out what you'd be open to, if we did this."

“Nope, you first, casanova.” She bounced in her seat, getting closer. Her nosy tendencies took precedence over everything else, it appeared. Getting to know more about him that was was enticing and she couldn’t hold herself back. “What's the crazy stuff you’re into? C’mon, we never talk about this stuff.”

Harry was open about the fact he had a healthy supply of offers and hookups but she had stopped him a few times from giving details. Mostly for her sake, so she didn’t see him as some sort of deviant- even if he was. Now, though, knowing she was potentially someone who could experience said things? Her curiosity was killing the cat. Her cat. Metaphorically speaking.

The man’s lips curled into a small smile as he saw her eager expression. He leaned back on the sofa, his arm stretched out behind her. He was throughly enjoying her nosiness- maybe for the first time- considering it gave him the perfect opportunity to tease her a bit more. "Oh, where do I even start... I have quite a few kinks, darling. But I have a feeling you'd like to hear about a certain one..."

“Okay… so tell me.” She rolled her hand to motion to him to continue. Patience really wasn’t Y/N’s strong suit and it was beginning to show, even if the smoking had initially relaxed her. “Let’s hear it. I want to know what I’d be getting myself into, besides greasy hands and the smell of motor oil.” Though she’d never admit how she’d learned to enjoy it, too.

He couldn’t lie and say he wasn't enjoying how intently she was looking at him, how her gaze was fixed on his every move. He leaned forward just a bit, his voice dropping lower as he continued* "Alright, y’wanted to know, you'll get to know like the princess y’are. But keep in mind, I've got a few of these, not just one." The taunting made her give him that impatient look he was used to, snickering under his breath as she bore her eyes into him.

“Okay. Lay them on me, tell me!” She huffed, knocking his knee. “You’re edging for no reason. I already know that one because you’re gross. Tell me the real stuff.”

Raising a brow at her eagerness, he leaned back again with his arm still draped behind her. He began speaking again, letting his voice drop a bit. "Alright, just a little tiny taste then… See if you can handle it. I've got a thing for power dynamics, darling. Particularly, I like to be in control."

“Mm… I could have guessed that. You’ve got the whole smolder thing, and you do the…” Y/N put her hand behind his neck before pulling it off. “Then you do the neck holding thing when we go out. You like to control where people go. Boss me around. So I had a clue. Give me one I wouldn’t expect.”

The perceptive observations hadn’t been something he expected, but it did amuse him. He reached up to brush a strand of her hair away from her face, his fingers lingering against her skin.

"You know me too well, little dove." He muttered, his eyes sparkling with mischief. This was a conversation he was enjoying. Not one he anticipated tonight, no, but one that had him on the edge of his metaphorical seat. His real seat was leaned against the back of the couch. "Okay then... how about this? I also enjoy a bit of exhibitionism. Kinky enough for you?"

“Oh?” She sat with it for a moment. “Actually… that makes sense too. You’re understated in public but you still get a lot of attention. Behind the scenes you’re an attention whore and stuff, which I know first hand but… yeah.” She huffed. “Damn. Can’t believe I didn’t guess that sorta stuff.” Another question popped into her mind. “Wait… what have you done with that? Are you talking like. Dressing rooms, cars? Or in front of people for real?”

Harry grinned as she continued to analyze his kinks, watching her as she went through it in her head. Had she thought about it before on her own? That wasn’t something he’d mind, in all honest. He chortled at her question and leaned back, his arm wrapped behind her. He didn't want to reveal too much but he was enjoying this back and forth. Maybe a tad bit more than he should be.

"You've got good instincts, darling. Yes, I enjoy exhibitionism. And yeah, both dressing rooms and cars are on the list. But not just that... I like a bit more of an audience sometimes. But that’s a different conversation. I can explain why I like it, though. Since you seem to be so curious.”

“Do tell.” Yes, maybe she was a little nosy but… it was slightly arousing. Harry was interesting to her before but now, with the idea of her being in those scenarios, she felt an elevated desperation to know.

Harry noticed how her eyes darkened with excitement as she listened to him and it made a feeling of satisfaction twist in his gut. Having an effect on her was something he hadn’t realized he’d enjoy so much, but now that he had a taste he wanted to see more of it. He shifted a bit closer, his voice dropping into a low whisper. "I like the thrill of being caught. The danger of it, y’know? I love that it’s risky, that your adrenaline pump and you’ve got t’be quiet. Or you don’t, and you have people see- when it’s appropriate.” That was something he’d experienced a few times. “I’ve had it happen before. Maybe I could arrange that, if that’s something you’d want. People watching, not touching, just watching me touch you... and I’d touch you plenty, darling."

“I think um, I’d like it” It was hard to talk with how her tongue felt tied. “I’ve not done a lot of it but I think I’d be open to seeing and doing more of it.” Her voice weakened, feeling him close to her. His cologne was warm and slightly spiced, his fingertips brushing her arm. Y/N had never experienced the sort of thing he was describing. The most she had done was fuck in a car. “Y-Yeah. I think that’s something we could um… try.” She cleared her throat, trying not to show how affected she actually was. It was hard not to. “What other kinks? Anything I wouldn’t guess?”

Harry saw right through her attempts to seem unbothered and he grinned, his hand continuing to lightly brush against her shoulder. He was enjoying the effect he had on her, the more the minutes passed by. It was a brand new side of her that he hadn’t been privy too prior, but now that he had a chance to? He was going to indulge.

"Glad you're up for trying it, darling. And as for other kinks..." He paused for a moment, his gaze trailing over her body before he spoke again in a deeper voice.

"I'm also into a bit of rope bondage, but that’s for another day too. The typical things you’d expect in kink too, the rougher stuff sometimes, but I really like working you up until you can’t take it anymore. Making you desperate, y’know?"

“Ropes?” She swallowed the shock. “Oh. Hm…” it made sense given the other things but for some reason she hadn’t expected him to be into actual ropes. “I’d have thought maybe more handcuffs but you do like being difficult, don’t you?”

It was a joke but it slightly intimidated her. Nothing she wouldn’t try, though. She trusted him to do that sort of thing with her, if they got to it.

Harry hummed at her surprise and leaned a little closer, his hand coming up to her chin to tilt her face towards him. His eyes locked with hers, his tone serious. It was hard to ignore how beautiful she was now that he was allowed to think that way. It was something he’d tried to limit his brain from indulging in before, but knowing he’d have all the rights to be the one to stare and touch her, he felt like a layer had been peeled back.

"Yeah, darling, I like being difficult. And I like being in control. But we'll take it slow, alright?" He saw the hint of intimidation on her face and the small act of rebellion he liked to see in her. He ran his thumb over her bottom lip, her skin hot and soft under his touch. “Nothin’ you don’t want t’do. I’ll make sure you're comfortable. Even if you’re a miserable little brat sometimes.”

“I…” her train of thought was stalled by the tender touch. Harry was… he was being a lot more liberal with his touches. Sometimes he was when he was high in general but this itself had her feeling hot under her skin. There was that intention now that this was slightly more than what friends do. “I can’t lie and say I’m not slightly intimidated by the thought of us doing stuff together. You’ve done a lot more than me.” She admitted meekly.

Harry simpered as he heard her confession and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He appreciated her honesty, understanding her intimidation. It would be the same for him in her position, but luckily he was going to use his advantage for good. "I know I've done more than you, but that's not a good nor a bad thing. Everyone is experienced in their own way, darling. And that's the point of us doing this... to explore each other, to learn what the other likes." He ran his hand down her arm, his fingers lightly tracing her skin, sending chills across her body.

His fingers curled around her wrist, lightly pulling her up and leading her to straddle his lap. This wasn’t at all where she had expected this night to go but… she couldn’t complain. With her nerves aside, Harry was by far one of the most attractive people she had ever met. There was no way she could turn away the opportunity to feel the way he touched someone romantically.

“You’re really okay not sleeping with anyone else in order to do stuff with me?”

Harry gazed up at her as she straddled his lap, his hands sliding up her thighs, pulling her closer against him. He looked up at her with a mix of desire and affection, appreciating her concern for his boundaries. "I'm absolutely fine with it," he assured her, his voice a low rumble. "I don't want anyone else." His hand came up, gently cupping her jaw. "I want to make you feel good, Y/N. I want to give you all the pleasure you deserve, and I want to be the only one doing it."

Y/N let out a weak sound as his lips pressed against the corner of her mouth. Having him so close was making her feel lightheaded, placing her hands on his shoulders as he tugged her closer to him, chest to chest.

“What do you want to do tonight?” She mumbled, eyes dropping to his lips back up to his eyes. “We don’t have to do like, everything and stuff but… I dunno.” The weed definitely made her aroused.

Harry chuckled softly, his lips just barely grazing the corner of her mouth, teasing her again. Feeling her body against his, her hands on his shoulders, it sent a wave of heat through his body. He doubted she knew that he’d started getting aroused when she started talking about what he’d be into.

"You're cute when you're bashful, darling. And high." He teased, his lips curving into a smirk as he spoke against her skin. "As for what I want to do... I just want to enjoy this moment. Maybe smoke a bit more, later. But mostly I just want to touch you."

“O-okay. You can touch me however you want.” Giving him that opening was bold, but she also knew she needed to just let him take charge. He said he liked to dom, so he would take care of her. Her eyes fluttered closed as she felt soft presses of his lips over her cheek, down to her jaw.

“You smell really good.”

Harry could feel himself holding back the pleased noise. The little compliment was a welcomed one, but he didn’t get them often from her. It was a new part of their dynamic but he couldn’t find himself upset with it. In fact, he was going to do everything he could to get some more out of her. He glanced at her, enjoying the way her eyes closed in response to his touch. Running his nose down the column of her neck, he took a little inhale of her scent. Sugary Sweet. Just like her.

"So do you, darling." He spoke against her skin.

In a test of how she’d react, he let his hands slid under her shirt, his fingers tracing along her bare skin. There was no stiffening, so he continued slowly moving closer to the hem of her bra. His lips continued their path down, leaving behind a trail of tingling sensations and wet marks on her skin.

The shaky exhale was louder than she had wanted, his hot fingertips burning a trail over her skin. He took the permission to heart, tracing the bottom of her bra as his lips moved down her collarbone.

Her breathing hitched as she felt his teeth sink into the skin lightly, a firm sucking making her fingers grip his shoulders tightly and nails dig into him just a bit. “Oh, shit… why does that feel good?”

Harry giggled against her skin as he felt her nails digging into his shoulders, enjoying the fact he was already getting a reaction out of her. He continued to kiss and bite her skin, occasionally sucking on the sensitive parts, marking his territory and drawing out more sounds from her.

"Cause I know what I'm doing, darling." He murmured against her skin before biting her collarbone again, this time a bit rougher.

“Oh my god.” She keened, head falling back as her hand came up to cup the back of his head. Fingers curled in his hair, feeling his mouth mark her up while his hand went under her bra, cupping her in his palms. “Fuck.”

Y/N felt the pulsing between her slick thighs, her sleep shorts riding up as she shuffled closer and pressed his mouth harder against her skin. It had been a while since she’d gotten laid but it was a little embarrassing how quickly he managed to get her to feel completely insane.

The sounds of her keening and breathing and the feeling of her arching into his touch was making his own need for her grow. His lips continued to work her her skin, marking and kissing and doing all the things he wanted because it felt like heaven to have this on tap. He could only imagine how much better their smoking sessions would be, how much more fun sleepovers would be if he got to love her up like this without a second thought.

“H…” she whimpered. Rocking her hips slightly, she rubbed against his bulge she could feel clearly between her thighs. “You’re h-hard already?”

Harry hummed quietly, feeling a thrill as she rubbed against him. His lips curled into a smirk against her skin before he lifted his head up, looking at her with darkened eyes. "Yeah, 'course I am, darling. You have no idea what you do to me, do you?"

Moving his hands back down to her hips, he gripped them tightly to grind himself against her. Give her a taste of just how hard his cock got for her. There was no reason for her to doubt. “You did this, sweet girl. S’all your fault.”

“Oh, shit.” She groaned, giggling at the end as she felt his mouth fall onto her chest. Wet, sloppy kisses were placed on the tender skin as she felt him guide her back and forth, setting a pace for the friction. “I can’t tell if it’s been a long time or if uh… if you’re just really good at this.”

Both. It was absolutely both.

Harry chuckled against her chest, his breath hot against her skin before his smirk widened.

"Mm, I would like to think it's because I'm really good at this," his hands guided her hips, setting a slow, torturous pace. "But maybe also a bit of both. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

“Uh-huh.” She nodded. “9 months.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at her response and tilted his head to the side.

"Nine months? Damn, babe." He murmured, his hands going under her shirt, his fingers tracing up her sides, making her shiver. Getting the reactions from her felt almost as good as her rubbing over his cock. "That's a long time."

“Just didn’t find anyone good enough to let in my bed.” She retorted, using her grip on his head to guide him back to her chest. “Take my shirt off.”

Harry didn't need to be told twice. He quickly pulled her shirt off, throwing it over his shoulder, before his hands came back up to her body, slowly tracing up her stomach, his fingers brushing over her skin. The thought had been there quite a few times over what she’d look like bare, but this was a brand new vision for him. One he absolutely adored.

"Beautiful." He murmured, his gaze wandering over her chest as he took in the sight of her bare skin, his breathing growing a bit heavier.

Her voice interrupted his inspection of her body. “Bra, too, please. Have to bite the bullet.” Despite her nerves that maybe he wouldn’t like what he saw, she felt comfortable with him. Harry wouldn’t ever make her feel bad. That much she knew for certain.

Plus… she wanted to feel more of his mouth.

Harry chuckled softly and nodded, his gaze locking with hers for a moment as he ran his fingers over the straps of her bra, pulling them down over her shoulders.

"You're so beautiful, darling. Don't ever feel nervous around me," his reassurance grounded her, his voice gentle but firm.

He reached behind her back, quickly unclasping her bra and pulling it off, tossing it away. Taking a moment to appreciate the sight in front of him, his eyes lit with desire. “God. You don’t even understand how phenomenal you are, do you? M’a lucky son of a bitch that you’re letting me touch you at all.”

Y/N continued to rub herself against him, feeling flushed at the praise. It was embarrassing that she had a pretty good idea that her sleep shorts were getting soaked, but she was swollen and wet and the motions itself of him between her legs were getting her embarrassing close.

Feeling his mouth kiss over the naked skin, she let out a moan that she hadn’t expected to. He was delicate but demanding, taking what he wanted.

Harry groaned as he felt her rubbing herself harder against him, his hands gripping her hips tightly to guide her movements. He couldn't resist the need building up inside him, the need to make her moan and whimper and squirm beneath him.

"You sound so pretty, darling," The compliment murmured against her skin, his lips traveling down her chest, stopping every so often to leave wet kisses, claiming every inch of skin he could. Selfish, possessive, needy. He wouldn’t deny any three of those allegations should she so choose to label him.

“It’s gonna feel so good when you’re inside of me.” She whispered, almost in awe. He was thick and long and she could feel every inch under her. It was almost intimidating to feel it and know that was going to be inside of her at some point. “But I… we have to wait for that. Wanna do that when we aren’t all… you know.” High. At least the first time they fucked, she wanted to be sober completely. “I think I could get off just like this, though. I feel so good right now.”

Harry nodded, his lips continuing to leave wet kisses on her skin, his hands roaming up her sides as he continued to grind himself against her.

"Impatient, aren't you, darling?" He teased, nipping at her neck before moving his mouth to her ear, whispering in it. "You'll just have to wait for that, though. But...there's always other ways to get us both off, hm?"

“Which way?” She breathed, eager to hear any and all suggestions he had.

Harry held her gaze, his eyes dark and full of desire as he spoke in a low, husky tone.

"Let me show you."

He gently pushed her back until she was laying down, his hands running down her thighs, pushing them apart slowly. Shifting his position, he hovered over her, his body fitting perfectly between her legs. His weight rested on his forearms as he looked down at her, she felt her world right itself from how it had been tipped over.

Y/N hadn’t expected the shift of direction but she liked it. Feeling him on top of her, she felt… delicate. Protected. Even if his gaze was predatory and hot, she knew he was good hands to be in.

She also hadn’t expected his hands to grab her shorts, pulling them off and tossing them to the side- but as soon as her panties were exposed, he settled back between her thighs. It was less of a barrier between them.

Harry hummed in approval as he got a glimpse of her panties, taking a moment to admire the sight before him. "You're so fucking wet, darling. Made a mess of those useless shorts. Panties aren’t much better." He murmured, his eyes roaming over her body before they went back up to her face. "And I fuckin’ love that you're all mine right now."

Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. Grabbing his face, she pulled it back up to her own and kissed him. Taking matters into her own hands, she felt him reciprocate immediately. And god, could the man fucking kiss.

Harry let out a soft curse at her sudden action but didn't hesitate to kiss her back through it all, his lips moving against hers hungrily. He pressed his body closer against hers, trapping her beneath him as his tongue delved into her mouth, greedily tasting and claiming her like he had been teasing the whole time.

“I wish you could fuck me right now.” She whimpered, feeling him rock against her. His cock perfectly pressed against her cunt and their mouths lapping against one another’s, it was heated and desperate. They couldn’t, not right now, but the idea of it had her slick and throbbing. It was unfair how her body was so primed and ready for him but she had to do the right thing. He’d feel so perfect inside of her and she’d be so full and they both knew it. “I wish you were inside me.”

Harry groaned at her words, the sound almost like a growl as he buried his face against her neck, his breathing getting heavier as he heard her whimper. He rocked his hips against her, his own need growing stronger with every second that passed.

"You have no idea how badly I want that, darling. But we can't...not yet." He whispered against her skin, his hands gripping her hips tightly. “I’m plenty patient, though. I’ll wait for you to want it, and then…” the pause was heavy. “Then I’ll give you every fucking thing you’ve ever wanted out of a fuck. Can promise you that.”

“I know. I know.” There was no doubt that he was fully and utterly capable. She swallowed back her desperation, wrapping her legs around his hips to pull them closer. “You just feel so good against me. I never expected this…” she whispered against his mouth. “But I’m so happy you decided to be horny and suggest it.”

Harry laughed, leaning down to press his lips against her neck again, licking at the skin as he continued to move his hips against hers, his body hot and heavy against hers. He lifted his head up slightly, looking down at her with darkened eyes as he took in how she had started to look a little blissed out. Just how he wanted her.

"I didn't expect it either, darling. But... I'm glad I did." He murmured, his fingers caressing her skin as he settled into a slow, steady rhythm. Rubbing back and forth, rocking his clothed cock into the sticky heat of her ruined panties, he knew her scent would be on them and that just sort of did something to him. Her own mark left on him.

Y/N felt the bubbling pleasure in her tummy. Feeling him rutting against her, the softness of his tongue as it brushed against her own, his hand curled around the back of her neck in such a possessive and firm grip, she felt controlled in the best way. Her eyes rolled back as she felt him grind harder against her.

“Fuck, Daddy. That feels so fucking good, feeling you against my cunt.” She purred, keeping herself glued to him. There was a pause of moment but she could feel him twitch against her, the sharp intake of breath as he tried to catch himself. It had been a shot in the dark, but one that hit the bullseye. “You like when I call you that? Does it make you feel good too?”

The reaction was visible. The man liked it more than she could even seem but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to play into it to see just how far it went. “Daddy… daddy…. Dadddy.” She taunted, whispering it against his skin. “You’ll make me cum like this. Just keep grinding into me…. Just like this.”

Harry groaned at her response, his lips moving down to her neck, leaving biting kisses in his path. The honorific had him weak, even more worked up than he had thought he could be in this scenario. Little Y/N was getting bolder by the minute and he fucking adored it. It made him wonder what else he could get out of her.

"You're gonna get it, darling. Jus’ be patient and let me make you feel nice, the way you’ve been wantin’ too." he murmured against her skin, his hips continuing to move against hers, keeping a steady pace. His hand cupped her chin, forcing her to look up at him, his eyes dark and intense as he looked down at her. "Daddy's gonna take such good care of you, Y/N. Don’t ever doubt it."

Harry was hot to the touch, her fingers guiding his face back to kiss her as he ground his cock into her. She could feel how it twitched against her, her legs keeping him close so they could stay glued together. “That feels…” she babbled. “S’good. So good, H. I feel so hot and I’m so fucking wet and I wish there wasn’t anything between us but we gotta be good. So good.” She rambled. It was hard to control what left her mouth. She would call it temporary insanity if he brought it up again outside of their arrangement, but the simple movements were making her lose her goddamn head.

Harry's breathing was getting heavier by the minute, his heart pounding against his chest like they wanted to escape his ribcage as he continued to rock his hips against hers. He felt hot and needy, every fiber of his being screaming to be closer to her, but he held himself back, knowing that they had to at least try to be good. He’d get to sink his cock into that hot cunt another day, make her cum around it and squeeze and milk every drop from his balls into her. That was something he was going to look forward to. But for right now they were testing the waters, and he liked it way more than he thought he would.

"Y’feel so good, darling. So, so fuckin’ good, can barely stand it." He murmured against her lips, letting the praise flow easily off his tongue. It’s what the woman deserved. All these shitty hookups and no one knew how to get to those little itches she couldn’t scratch- but he could read her so easily. Harry knew what she needed. "You're doing so well for me, being so good. Daddy's proud of you."

The last sentence made her whine out loud. Pleasure flowed through her at his praise, wanting more of it. All of it. It had been so long since she had been touched by someone else, and while the last person she had expected to do it was her best friend, she had also never felt this level of desperation.

Harry could feel her body responding to his words, her whimpers and whines making his own desire for her grow even more. He loved knowing that his praise was making her feel good, that she needed to hear his words. He continued to murmur sweet, filthy things in her ear as his body moved against hers, his need for her growing more and more intense with every second.

"That’s my girl, sweetheart. You're doing so well for me, letting me take care of you like this."

He knew it had been a long time for her, felt it in how she kissed. Selfishly he would be glad to be the one she got to take care of her. No one else really deserved it. Maybe he didn’t either, but he cared for her genuinely. He liked her and he wanted the best for her- so that’s what he was going to do.

“M’gonna cum, daddy.” She whispered. “I feel it. You’re getting my clit so perfect each time you move… god, s’so embarrassing to cum dry humping but I forgot how good it feels.” Or maybe it just hadn’t ever felt this good with anyone else. It had been a while, sure, but she hadn’t actually had dry sex with someone since she was sneaking around with her boyfriends back home. Something about it made her know that it had to be a Harry thing, though. That he’s the reason it felt this fucking good and why she was desperate for it.

Harry could feel her words shooting straight to his core, his body growing hotter in response. He could tell that she was close before she had even said so, by the way her body trembled against him, by the way her words got breathier and more desperate. Hearing her say so only made him more eager to get there.

"That's it, sweetheart. Let daddy make you feel good, darling." Harry murmured in her ear, his hands gripping her tighter, his body moving against hers more frantically now as he chased his own release alongside hers. She was going to cum, she was going to cum because of him and fuck if that wasn’t the sweetest reward he could think of- he wasn’t sure what was. "You're doing so perfect for me. Just let go for me. You can do it. I've got you, sweet girl."

Y/N felt it approach quicker than she had wanted. It was no wonder, though. Harry was giving her everything she didn’t know she needed in the simplest way, and he wasn’t even inside of her yet. She felt safe and appreciated as his fingers held her and his lips cooed encouragement to her, the rhythmic back and forth of his cock rutting against her poor, soaked panties, the heat boiling over.

“I’m gonna- m’cumming, m’cumming, I’m cumming Daddy- Harry.” She babbled as her eyes welled up with pleasured tears, nails digging into his skin as she came.

Harry's breathing hitched as he felt her grip on him, her hands digging into his skin and her body trembling against his as she came. “There you go baby, there you fuckin’ go. Yes.” He gasped, feeling himself tip over the edge. His name leaving her lips in a strangled whimper had been the final straw, his own release hitting him like a wave, his body shuddering against hers as he followed her over the edge. Shooting right into his briefs, he felt the hot and sticky load and momentarily mourned the loss of it not being inside of her, but it was quickly passed over as the orgasm washed over him.

"God, darling," the man groaned, his voice low and rough as he buried his face against her neck. Mouthing over the skin as he tried to gather his bearings, he mumbled sweetness into her. "You did so well for me, sweetheart. You're so perfect. So good for me. Sweetest fuckin’ peach."

The loud groan that followed her own had caught her off guard, the sharp thrusts of his hips making her cry out in overstimulation but she did little to stop it, keeping her legs around his hips. “What the fuck was that?” She laughed, head falling back on the sofa with her eyes blurry and wet. It was hard to think.

Harry couldn’t say anything, his own brain fuzzy and his body in overload after that climax. He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, his forehead resting on her shoulder. His curls brushed her skin, scalp slightly damp as her fingers settled in the mess of hair and brushed through it without a second thought.

"Bloody fuckin’ hell, babe." Harry finally managed to say, his voice a bit shaky. "That was… incredible." He lifted his head up, looking down at her disheveled and flushed form, his eyes roaming over her.

It was just dry sex, but it had been better than some of the full on stuff he’d had. Maybe it was just their connection, their vibe, maybe even being high, but he knew it felt impeccable. This was something he wanted to revisit- and he would, especially when he was all alone with his hand on his cock.

“If it feels good like that, what the hell are we gonna do when we do the real thing?” Y/N blinked up at him, the flush of her orgasm glowing on her skin. She felt her body shivering slightly, her poor panties a complete mess she’d need to change into, but there was no regret so far. It took her by surprise considering she had been anticipating a bit of awkwardness between the both of them but there was no hint of it as they recovered, a light kiss pressed over her cheek as his hazy eyes looked down at her.

Harry let out a half-laugh, his body still feeling heavy and spent after that intense release- one that had been a welcomed surprise. There had been no prior indication that would be happening tonight but for as insane as it was that it happened, he was more than happy that it did. Getting to experience this side of Y/N had been something he liked far more than he could have ever anticipated.

Leaning down, his forearms rested on either side of her head as his eyes locked with hers while he spoke. "I have a feeling that the real thing will be earth-shattering." He said, his voice low and slightly hoarse. "The wait might kill me, though."

[seraphicsentences]

hii mamas, probably stupid since youve been writing less, but js incase can i req ellie swiping through an album of videos and photos of reader, but then her mood is instantly changed when she swipes to a sx recording thta she completely forgot about? miss youu 😔😔

i’m sorry baby ik i suck ive been reaaall busy lately so i haven’t had much time for writing but! here’s a short one. working through requests slowly but surely. enjoy!

thinking about loser!ellie turning pussy drunk for you, or rather, the thought of you, in seconds. bc when am i not thinking about loser!ellie?

loser!ellie, naturally, never leaves the house. why would she— when she has her savage starlight comics stacked up on her shelf, her xbox hooked up, locked and loaded with a never ending amount of games, and most importantly, you, to come over whenever she pleases.

except for now, unfortunately. you had gone out to see an old friend who was visiting in town, and ellie, trying her very best to be a respectful girlfriend, decided to stay in (against her wishes).

as the pathetic, attached, and adorable loser she was, she had resorted to scrolling through her compiled camera album of you, which you self- titled “the prettiest, coolest, smartest, awesomest girl ever. aka your wife.”

she laughed under her breath, shaking her head fondly at the statement as she continued to swipe through countless candids, selfies, and clips of you. her girl.

she couldn’t help but smile sweetly into the crook of her elbow, head falling sideways into her mussed bed as she relived her favorite moments with you, which was really actually every moment she spent with you.

after skimming through an 8 minute long video of the two of you trying, and failing, to kill a small bug on her bedroom wall, it’s safe to say ellie’s heart was warm, and filled to the brim.

the next video’s thumbnail doesn’t immediately draw up any memories of hers, a blurry view of what seems to be her wall of space posters, so she assumes it to be an accidental recording.

but it’s— 18 minutes long??

curiosity winning her over, ellie clicks on the video, a loading symbol popping up on the screen briefly before sounds of heavy breathing overtake the room.

bedsheets rustle in the background, as ellie watches what appears to be her own hand scrambling at the phone’s lens, propping it up on her bedside table.

the view is what can only be described as filthy. your back arching off the mattress, legs tied to opposite posts on the bed as you writhe, gasping for air as ellie holds a vibrator lush against your clit.

“ah! ellie!” you’re crying out, ankles twisting and pulling at the grasps they’re in.

present-day ellie’s face glows a deep red, her breathing already picking up as she watches the screen, entranced. her legs come together, squeezing, as she begins to rock her hips down into the bed ever-so-subtly, clit grazing the seam of her pants in reach for the smallest sparks of stimulation.

she had completely forgotten about this video, the post-sex exhaustion wiping it from her memory, but it served as quite the pleasant surprise for her pathetic loser!self now. she flips over onto her back.

heart pumping, she roams her fingers across her navel, dipping under her boxers as she stares at her past self humping greedily on one of your thighs, head thrown back. your hands were gripped on the meat of her hips, pushing her down harder against yourself as she continued to shakily rub the toy over you.

her soft whimpers intermingled with your pleading moans to form an addicting symphony— ellie biting down on her lip as the tip her finger brushes over her pulsing clit.

“ellie, please, need your fingers,” you whine in the current scene.

“you got ‘em,” she hears herself husk out.

ellie groans, her finger twitching down involuntarily to press harder into her needy, puffy clit.

“fuck,” she swears under her breath, head falling back into a pillow as she fucks her hips up harder against her hand. her jaw drops open, head spinning as she pleads for your touch. simply yearning like the fucking loser she is, whimpering your name over and over again as she pants out heavily.

video-ellie has now ditched the vibrator, fucking her fingers messily into your weeping pussy as you raise a hand up to cup her heat.

“gonna let me stuff you up, els?” you ask, half-lidded with a surprisingly cocky smirk for the amount you’re dripping down your thighs.

“please,” ellie cries now, in sync with her recorded whines as she replicates your motions, a halfhearted attempt to relive the eye-rolling experience.

you, or she finally slides two fingers in, curling them impatiently to rub over that one spot that has her whispering, “please mommy.”

the phone falls onto the mattress, filthy sounds still playing in the background as ellie clutches the bedsheets instead, twisting them for dear life. her fingers thrust more rapidly now, sounds of her slick filling the air as she spreads her legs eagle-wide to reach even deeper.

how pathetic she is. this wet from just a video recording? this desperate for your touch? she’s nearing her finish already, beating past-her, which from the sound of it, seems to be getting edged.

her fingers jam harder into her g-spot, little uh-uh-uh’s slipping out from between her lips with the movement. ellie’s other hand scrambles for her thrown phone, dazedly clicking your contact and thumb searching for the audio recording option.

she can’t hold it anymore, legs kicking and squirming as she tries to get her words out.

“m-iss y-you real, real- fuck- bad. mmph please- need you ho-home n-ow, babe, g-gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum,” she rambles, her voice getting higher as she gets more lost in the sensations.

her back flies off the bed, hips bucking animalistically as she chants your name loudly, fingers still moving at lightning speed.

“miss you,” she whines quietly now, catching her breath and pouting as she slides her fingers out of her raw pussy, before hitting send with her not cum-coated hand.

yes this was short asf. n what about it? i banged it out in a zoooooom. ;)

[oceantornadoo]

part two - outlaw!simon x reader who was supposed to marry johnny (rip)

when you wake in the morning, there is no husband in your bed and an angry sheriff at your door.

the missing husband is a later problem. you snatch your worn dressing gown from your nearby chair, shirking it on over your night shift as you head towards the door. you grab your rifle on the way, noting simon had unloaded it when you weren't paying attention. bastard.

"mornin' ma'am." sheriff graves is a sunny character on your doorstep, western sun and a shifty smile. you mutter a greeting back, wondering why in god's name he is pounding at your door when the sun has barely touched the sky. "did ya have any trouble last night? there's rumors of an outlaw group on the edge of town." you shake your head, gaze holding firm. "no, sir. woulda shot 'em if i did." he nods, then looks down at his boots. "and that husband of yours? he at home, protectin' his wife?" ah, so that's why he's here. everyone knows you are married but no one's ever met the guy, seeing as he's been journeying over mountains and grasslands to get to you. sheriff graves is well aware of your lonesome self, just you and your rifle. "he's around, sir. i'll be introducin' him to yall soon enough. 'course, we're spendin' some time together as man and wife first."

his pupils go wide at your insinuation, not ladylike in the slightest. 'course, you are a barmaid, so what's to be expected of you? "i see. well, i'll leave you to your mornin', ma'am." if he really wanted to give you your morning, he wouldn't have woken you up so early, but you weren't going to give him that much attitude. "good day, sheriff." you close the door when his boots are still in its shadow, a little too close to be polite.

"you protectin' me, darlin'?" you jump at his voice, nearly scaring you out of your gown. "good lord, give a girl some warning!" he's fully dressed, hiding in the shadows of your pantry in a full-black outfit. you take in the bandana hiding his face, the all-black chaps encasing his thick thighs, and the holsters strapped and loaded. "you're up early." he grunts, coming closer. simon checks the door lock, then pushes you up against it with his body, his arms coming to hold the wall over your head. "had t' water my horse. you miss me?" you shake your head vehemently. "you snore. you will not be gettin' in my bed again soundin' like a freight train." instead of taking offense, he laughs, all gravel in your ear. "johnny woulda loved you."

you can tell he regrets saying it the moment it leaves his lips. his body tightens, that easy flirtation dying in the wind. "you miss him?" you ask quietly, testing the lines between you. "everyday. less now, i think. got a spitfire to take care of." unwillingly you lean closer, crossing your arms over your chest. "you better be talkin' about your horse." he grumbles something unintelligible, one hand leaving the wall to ghost against your hip. you're reminded of last night, of his rough embrace and warm arms.

"hips up for me, sweetheart. there ya go." simon places a pillow underneath your hips, the angle revealing more of your cunt to him. you whine as he stares, hips bucking as if to entice him. "y'r so needy, darlin'." you moan, one leg reaching out around his waist to tug him closer. he lets out a laugh as you line up your pelvises, the rough material of his pants rubbing against your bare body.

"i've been horny. can't fuck anyone when you're married, apparently." he hums, opting to trace the line of your jaw instead of the seam of your cunt. "still, coulda been a killer, yet you opened up so easily for me." embarassment courses through your body but you refuse to feel the shame along with it. you reach out your hands to find his zipper, tugging it down when he doesn't stop you. "you're no killer. if johnny trusted you, so do i." your hand finds his cock beneath the layers of his clothes, tugging it out slowly. he hisses when it meets the cool night air, already so hard and ready to go. "don't go makin' assumptions about me, sweetheart. there's a lot you don't know."

the fear hits you for a moment. a realization that this man could be lying completely, some stranger off the street who barreled his way into your home. you search his eyes for the truth, sticking to your belief in the good in people. you find it in his gaze; he's trying to scare you. you smirk at the thought, this big tough man wanting to scare you, a lady living on her own in the wild west. takes a lot more to do that. "can i put it in?" you refuse to acknowledge what he said, gripping his cock tightly and tapping it against your opening. he's already made you come twice, once on the kitchen table and another against the door, but you still need to be full. "yeah baby, put it in."

you shake out of your daydream, noting the moving path of the sun lighting the outline of simon's body. "c'mon, i'll show you where my stable is. and then maybe, if you're good, you can come to my shift at the pub later." he snorts, one hand on your hip. the feeling of possession is alien. you've spent so many nights dreaming of johnny, dreaming of having a husband, that simon's presence feels like something you need to wake up from. he could be a figment of your imagination, you decide, watching him untie his horse from a nearby tree and bring her over. instead of walking down that mental path, you take another step towards this outlaw of a husband and try to shake off the butterflies in your stomach.

--

PART FOUR

yes he's wearing the gunslinger fit idc but with the bandana (i couldn't find a good pic)

tag list:

@chickennn-soupp

@vmaxis

@samanthamarkle92

@sinful-tawtute

@nightingale2124

@scottpilgrimvsmyfists

@saucypeanuttt

[clarkeysbedchem]

safe haven

george clarke x fem reader

summary: after an argument with your family, you end up staying with george’s family for christmas

warnings: allusions to violence

masterlist | main masterlist

It was a just under a week before christmas and you were sat on a train travelling from your hometown to bristol with tear soaked cheeks and bloodshot eyes. You had been arguing with your family non stop from the moment you had arrived home, but last night was the final straw. Your father had gotten drunk again coming home from the pub in a fury screaming and shouting, smashing and throwing anything in his path the moment he laid eyes on you. You didn’t even bother fighting back, you let it happen before finding your way to bed and booking the first train out of there whilst hysterically crying to your boyfriend down the phone.

“You okay, lovey?” The older woman next to you asked softly offering a tissue from her packet, “Would you like a sweet?”

A small smile danced over your lips sniffling softly as you took the tissue as well sweet she offered, “Thank you.” You said quietly, popping the sweet into your mouth.

The older lady smiled gently rubbing your hand, “You going home for the holidays?”

“Yeah,” You nodded, “I’m going to my boyfriends.”

The woman smiled brightly, “That’s lovely, what’s his name?”

“George.” You smiled, lifting your phone to show the lock screen of you and George in New York.

“Well he’s handsome, isn’t he?”

“Very.” You let out a little laugh making the woman laugh with you.

You stepped off the train with your suitcase and bag in hand looking around the platform for a familiar face and a sense of relief washed over you as you spotted George walking towards you with his charming smile. You wheeled your suitcase behind you as you made your way to him throwing your arms around his neck, “I got you.” He mumbled into the top of your head as you fought back the tears fighting their way out of your eyes, “Let’s go home, yeah?” He suggested, pressing his lips to your hairline before grabbing your suitcase and interlocking your fingers.

As you walked out of the station, you were greeted by Emily and her fiancé, Josh - who were waiting in the car - “Hiya.” She smiled pulling you into a hug which you accepted gratefully.

“Hi Em,” You pressed a smile into your lips, “You okay?”

She nodded looking around you at George, who was loading the boot with your bag and suitcase, “I’m excited to not be the only girl at Christmas this year.” She giggled and you laughed too.

George opened the car door for you leaning on it slightly as you climbed in and he gave you a small kiss before closing the door and climbing in the other side.

“Hello darling!” George’s mum, Nicki, greeted as you walked to the front door. Her arms were wide open to engulf you but her eyes held an ounce of concern as they flickered over your frame, “Would you like a cup of tea?” She asked with a adoring smile and you nodded with a small smile as she ushered you in the house.

“Geo, take y/n things to your room.” She instructed and he did so with no arguments as Nicki guided you to the kitchen, “How’ve you been, sweetie? George mentioned that you and your dad argued.”

you chewed on your cheek and nodded, “Yeah, but I’m okay. Thank you for letting me stay, I didn’t want to intrude or anything.”

Nicki turned around quickly, “Don’t be silly, you’re always welcome here.”

Your heart swelled at her words and you felt a lump form in your throat, “Thank you.” You smiled as she pushed your mug of tea towards you.

George wandered into the kitchen looking at you with a small flicker of concern in his eyes as you smiled weakly at him. Nicki glanced between you and her son and quietly excused herself into the livingroom as George sat next to you on the table, “What happened?” he asked, running his thumb over the small but deep cut that sat on your collarbone.

You sighed looking down at your lap, “Dad got drunk again.” You muttered, “He got mad, I think he thought I was mum. It’s not the first time he’s got mad, but this was bad George, he wouldn’t stop,”

A small sob escaped your lips as you covered your face with your hands and George stood up letting you bury your head into his abdomen, “I didn’t even do anything.” You cried, tears streaming down your face soaking both yours and George’s shirt.

George didn’t know what to say, he didn’t think you’d want him to say anything, so he just held you letting you cry. His hands running through your hair so you knew he was there, so you knew that you were safe.

You woke up the next morning in an empty bed in George’s childhood bedroom making you panic slightly as you shot up from your laying position looking over at the bedside table for your phone but seeing a note on top of it which read:

don’t panic, i’m downstairs come down when you wake up love you x

You let out a breath of air you’d been holding and you slipped one of George’s hoodies over your frame and you made your way downstairs hearing the chattering of George and his parents. You made your way into the living room, “Good morning.” You announced lightly.

George’s face lit up as he turned to you, his hand instantly guiding you to the space on the settee next to him. George’s parents smiled at the couple in utter joy watching how soft George became whenever you were around him, how you both seemed to go to your own little world whenever you were in a conversation.

“You two got any plans today then?” Sean, George’s dad, asked the pair of you and you looked up at George to see if he had anything planned for you both.

George nodded, “Yeah, we’re gonna go to christmas markets later I think.”

You smiled softly nodding a long with the plans as you sank into George’s side subconciously and his arm found its way around your shoulders, “That sounds lovely.” Nicki smiled her eyes flicking between you both, her heart warming at the sight.

yourusername

likes 2.6k | comments 354

yourusername safe haven 🩵

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georgeclarkeey soppy git 🥴

┃ georgeclarkeey i love you x

┃ yourusername and im the soppy one 🤔

userone mum and dad

usertwo stop this is so sweet 🥹

_emilyclarke ly sweet girl 💕💕

┃ yourusername ly ems 🫶🏻🫶🏻

chrismd10 get a room yeah 🤧

┃ yourusername green doesnt look good on you dixon

┃ chrismd10 😒😒

arthurnfhill i miss him 😔

┃ yourusername more than happy to share with you mr hill

livvydimartino my favourites 🥰

┃ yourusername my girl 😘

sabinablair_ this is too sweet 🥹

┃ yourusername missing you sabs 🫂

userthree the way shes looking at him im gonna sob

max_balegde please adopt me 🙏🏻

┃ yourusername you are now our child

┃ georgeclarkeey absolutely not.

[humiliatemeplesse]

The guy in the apartment next door knows you're a fag from all the staring you've done in the lobby and in the hall and in the elevator. One day when the two of you were in the elevator alone he said "Be at my apartment door at eight o'clock, knock once." Then he exited the elevator and went right into his place. You were so excited, you thought finally, I'm going to get this awesome stud's cock and cum load in your mouth. Maybe he'd fuck you too. At eight you went to his door and knocked once. "Come in." You opened the door and closed it behind you and he said "Lock it." You did so then walked slowly toward his voice. There he was, in the living room looking at his phone with his feet up smoking a cigarette. "I've been watching you oogle over me ever since you moved in here. That's been a long time. You fags fucking need to stop making us real men uncomfortable like that. So I'm going to teach you a lesson that'll show you where you belong in respect to us. You probably thought you were coming over here for sex, right? No fucking way. I'd never let a dirty faggot put it's mouth on my dick nevermind put it up your filthy ass. So get on your knees and kiss my stinking socked feet. Beg me to forgive you for being so fucking disrespectful. Massage them to make up for your unacceptable behavior and sniff 'em too, smell the stink of a real man, homo." You were shocked by all of this but you were a faggot who did what it was told. So you got down on your knees and worshipped his stinking socked feet and begged for his forgiveness. He kept looking at his phone and occasionally slapped you in the face with his socked foot, and hard. He blew shine smoke in your face and you coughed and he called you a fucking pussy. This went in until about eleven pm when he said he was going to bed and for you to get the fuck out. He took your cell phone number and said he'd text you to come over for more discipline whenever he felt like it and that you better respond and get to his place fast, no matter where you are, or he'd beat you. You got up, said "Yes Sir, thank You Sir," and left his apartment. You had the feeling you'd be doing a lot of rushing to his place from now on. You were both taken by his demanding masculinity but also afraid of it. You'd do what he said.

[rabotimagines]

Okay, this is my first request.

You can look at the reaction of the Autobots and Decepticons to the battle between the Reader and their sworn enemy. I'll explain now: once upon a time, this bot did something very unforgivable to the Reader, and when the Reader met them again, they stopped being playful and became more serious and with a face that expresses quiet rage and fierce hatred.

Sure, playful flirty reader deserves to go a little apeshit as a treat 😌 went with Autobot reader for both since you didn't specify.

"Hellbent" GN BOT Reader + Sideswipe, Thundercracker, Megatron, Ironhide,

Summary: They're used to you being playful even on the battlefield, so when a neutral bot you seem to recognize stops by earth. They're caught completely off guard by your sudden personality shift when they enter the battlefield.

G1 characters: Sideswipe, Thundercracker, Megatron, Ironhide

Genre/Theme: Platonic for the most part, but Thundercracker realizes he thinks it's hot

Warnings: Violence, Reader locking the fuck in and trying to kill some un named neutral they've got on the top of their slag list.

Pronouns: You, Your, Yours

Notes: Autobot reader, Reader attacks both physically and with their blaster. It's vague on the physical strikes so you can imagine brawling or whatever weapon you'd like really.

He sees seeker wings on the ground and Sideswipes burning rubber to not miss the opportunity to make himself a problem. He ends up slamming right into Thundercracker in his alt mode- transforming mid fall. To not waste even a klick in getting his servos on the other. Seekers were tough in a physical fight- and you either needed a lot to tango with one or a good starting shot in a physical grapple. Sideswipes opening shot was frankly perfect, so the fact Thundercracker still manages to get a harsh hold of his arm is a bit embarrassing-! Thundercrackers not even paying full attention to him-!

Blaster fire just barely singed the back of Sideswipes neck, and he jerks at the sharp heated edge of pain. Thundercracker uses the opportunity to throw Sideswipe off of him. Sideswipe scrambles to recover and stops when he catches your frame, slamming into another. Sideswipe watches stunned as you move to strike that neutral that had been mucking around the fight. Your hit barely misses them- the plating you nicked on them spitting a spark or two from the force of the near blow.

You don't let them recover- another strike, another blast, another attempt to take them down. You weren't giving them half a pede to get themselves back together. You were practically chasing them with the little distance of your sudden heated back and forth! Well, more you obviously trying to take them out and them blocking and dodging as fast as they can. Sideswipes stuck watching you utterly tear into the neutral- and he doesn't know what the frag to think!

Sideswipes seen you fight tons of times- frag! He's fought you loads of times! You were never like- like this! Sure, you were a good fighter, but you were- down right vicious with this neutral! No playing, no questing, no games. Full all sides assault and tearing into them anyway you can. Sideswipe manages to catch a glimpse of the look in your optics- and he just knows he's about to see you grey them out.

The neutral is lucky, though, but definitely not lucky enough to test you, and they run for it. Sideswipe almost wants to taunt them and tell them "yeah, they better run! You'd make 'em regret it-" but then you follow after them! Dodging and not even bothering with the other Cons you pass by-! Sideswipe sees Ironhide almost follow you, but Ironhide just curses and dives back into the fight. Maybe Ironhide can't afford to abandon the fight, but Sideswipe could be your back up for that neutral!

Sideswipe barely makes it a few quick pedes, and before he can transform- And his frame seizes and locks up. He hits the ground, and the buzzing numb hum combined with his systems going non responsive tells him a null ray hit him right in the back. Sideswipes dragging his twitching frame back up when he hears Skywarp curse and the loud crunch of metal on metal. Then Thundercracker telling Skywarp to get it together. When the fight finally ends Sideswipe ends up seeing Ironhide rushing off late in the direction you'd went off in. Sunstreaker is next to him and Sideswipe just gives him his own look before asking if he saw you act like- that. Sideswipe didn't even know you could get that mad-!

Honestly, Sideswipe can't even let himself want to think about fighting you like that. Especially when he could only imagine what the neutral had done to have you act like... that on the battlefield. (But maybe they'd see more of you like that when they speed up to catch up to Ironhide.)

-

Thundercracker ends up suddenly grounded when he has to avoid slamming into Skywarp, who had Sunstreaker tearing off bits of his plating. Skywarp still clipped his side even though they avoided a direct collision. Thundercracker barely has time to make sure the damage isn't anything he should worry about before he's hit by a fragging car! Not just any car- it's the other sparkdamn jet judo twin-!

Thundercracker grits his denta and makes sure not to panic preemptively- Those two took advantage of it to get a better hold of them! Not this time! Thundercracker stops their tumbling and latches onto one of Sideswipes' gauntlets, trying to fight for control back-! And then the sound of a blasters safety clicking off makes Thundercrackers' optics snap left. That sparkdamn neutral was a few pedes away, and they had their blaster aimed right at the both of them-!

Another bot clips them with a strike and the neutrals shot clips Sideswipe. Thundercracker doesn't waste the opportunity to throw his opponent off of him and get his pedes back under himself. He's fully ready to raise his null rays at his opponent when he recognizes the paint of the bot currently battling the neutral. But it's less battling- more like a near one sided crusade- From you. Thundercracker can't help gawking at the state of you. Your jaw set tight, a scowl on your face, and your optics- the utter contempt in them was something that he didn't know what to think of. You're pushing the neutral back with strikes hard enough sparks fly when one of them grazes their armor.

You un subspace your blaster so quickly Thundercracker almost didn't realize what happened before you pull the trigger and blast the neutral right through the pauldron. Energon spills and your optics sharpen somehow further at the sight. ...And Thundercracker knew he had his problems about having the occasional inappropriate thought of you- and seeing you like this in a fight... definitely wasn't going to help Thundercracker with those wandering thoughts. (War frame coding-!)

Thundercracker has to block a stray blaster shot that comes his way and then the neutral retreats. Thundercracker expects you to turn towards your ally- But no, you give chase. Thundercracker had assumed it was the protectiveness of your personality that jumped forward here. Instead, he watches you run after your opponent like neither him nor Thundercracker mattered.

Sideswipe shouting in pain and dropping makes Thundercracker snap towards Skywarp, who was standing nearby with a smoking nullray. Only for Thundercracker to watch him get run into by a yellow Lamborghini. Skywarp curses and hits the ground hard, and Sunstreaker doesn't hesitate to latch back onto him. Thundercracker then has to save Skywarp from losing more plating- and the battle just continues. All until Megatron calls for retreat anyway.

Thundercracker finds himself lingering in the sky in root mode- staring in the direction you'd disappeared in, chasing your opponent. He's wondering if he'd ever see you like that again when you were across him on a battlefield.

-

Megatron's optics find your frame while he's ranking a quick glance over the field, only he stops to stare when he comprehends it. You aren't smiling- but even more significant than that, you're visibly irate. A scowl curled at your jaw with denta gritted tense, eyes heated into a sharp glare. And your optics were locked directly onto that sparkdamn neutral that had landed on earth, not even a cycle ago. Curious- Megatron doesn't have the time to dissect the very interesting development of your turning mood.

Because when the blasted neutral turns their own blaster on Thundercracker and the Autobot he's in gauged with- you practically lunged. You're in between the neutral and both his mech and your own so quick that you draw attention from anyone around the scene. So, of course, you have multiple optics on you when you pull your own weapon and try to strike the neutral so hard the attack clipping them makes them stumble.

Your hits and attacks are relentless, and you don't let up after just one. Yes, you were dangerous on the battlefield, it was how you'd survived this long in the first place. But the swipes and the intent behind your strikes were so obvious... it would be foolish for Megatron to acknowledge it as anything less than the intent to slaughter. Your attacks are not for winning but to utterly eviscerate the one standing in opposition to you on the battlefield.

Megatrons.... faced by the fact he's never managed to bring out this side of you in your many, many battles. Where you- never taking any of your previous battles seriously?! Yes, to a degree, Megatron had known that. Your flirtatious names, your playful smiles, and your sparkdamn infuriating perverse em field-! But to be faced directly by the fact you'd played with him to just such a degree-?

That you somehow didn't believe he, Megatron, leader of the Decepticons, needed to be handled with the same severity as one un named neutral?! It's laughable and near incomprehensible. But the ferocity of the attacks you continue to engage the neutral with, says otherwise. Megatrons own interest in your heightened state makes focusing on his fight with prime nearly impossible- (after the fact Megatrons now assuming the only reason prime hadn't knocked him flat instantly was because Prime was also just as distracted.)

The neutral flees with you hot on their trail, and Megatron pulls back after a few now focused blows shared with prime. Megatron then calls for a retreat, his attention still stolen by you even when you were long gone off the field. His gaze lingers in the direction you'd taken off in pursuit of your prey.

Perhaps Megatron can use your obvious loathing for this mech to his advantage. After all, you'd be more than well inclined to him if Megatron managed to bring you this neutral's grayed out frame as a... show of goodwill.

-

Your em field up and pulling back like he was a scraplet catches Ironhides attention almost instantly. The overly friendly touch had gone utterly mute. He glances at you quickly, only to double take when he catches the expression on your face. You were mad- no, not just mad- ya were proper fragging furious. Jaw tight, derma frowned, optics narrowed- your plating was clamped down. Your em field bleeding a worrying amount of heat told him you were rightfully slagged off.

Ironhide knew you'd mellowed out significantly to the point genuine rage wasn't exactly somethin' you'd be puttin' out now a days. Even when you did get mad, you'd usually either have a neutral look or sometimes smile a sharper way. Ironhide follows your gaze and finds that neutral that was stalking around the edges of the battlefield. And Ironhide watches them pull their blaster and aim it right at Sideswipe, who's busy tangling with Thundercracker on the ground-!

Ironhide grits his jaw, and he can't shout or start running when the dirt kicks up next to him. And before Ironhide realizes it, you're crossing the distance on the battlefield in nanoklicks. And you're heading right for that neutral-! With a curse, Ironhide rushes after you as backup. The neutral snaps their helm your way as you barrel right for them and barely manages to dodge the hit you take at them. And you just focus all your attention on them-!

Ironhide catches up and stops to take some cover when a stray shot nearly hits him. Ironhides brandishing his own blaster as he's watching ya rip into this neutral with the type of aggression that reminds him of sharkticon in a swarm. Not letting up for a moment to even miss the opportunity to take yet another strike at their frame. You're after them with an insatiable mission to take them down, and you weren't going to stop for nothing.

The neutral books it- And with how ferocious you were in the fight with them Ironhide can't exactly blame 'em. But he is baffled when you don't stay when they go- No! You do exactly what a sharticon on the hunt would do, and you chase after them without a nanoklick to waste. Abandoning your position in the fight against the cons-! Ironhides attention turns back towards the very much still active battle with the Decepticons, and he grits his denta and curses the air blue.

He pivots from where he was considering following you and turns back to the battle here. Ironhide couldn't just abandon his post when Optimus and the rest of them were fighting for their lives! After a few klicks that end up feeling like vorns, Ironhide ends up slamming the side of his blaster into Dirges helm- and Megatron calls for retreat. As soon as the cons start taking off Ironhide transforms and drives off after you in the direction you'd gone off in.

Ironhide wasn't sure what they'd done to ya to get that type of reaction outta ya! But Ironhide was sure he wasn't about to leave you alone to do something stupid!

[writingunderneathawillow]

20 questions

warnings: nothing, just fluff word count: 530 a/n: my first work for steve, yayyy!! just a quick drabble :)

You had been playing for a while now, questions about anything and nothing exchanged between you and Steve when he asked: “What’s your plan for the future?”

In surprise, you looked up at him. It seemed like a very direct question, one that was slightly loaded.

You leaned back a little, gazing at him before answering.

“In the far – and I mean far – future, I’d like to settle down somewhere nice. In the countryside maybe, but not too far away from the next big city,” you replied honestly while watching Steve’s face intently.

“Settling down, huh? How’d that look for you?” He asked. His eyebrows knitted together ever so slightly, soft lips parted as he waited for your answer. One could practically see the inner workings of his brain, trying to figure you out as best as he could.

“Well, a nice house with a pretty garden. I want a place where you don’t have to lock the windows and doors every night, somewhere where you don’t have to install a security system. And I’d like to do that with someone special,” you explained slowly, “Someone by my side.”

You and Steve hadn’t been dating long enough that talking about growing old together felt comfortable, so your answer ended up being rather vague.

“Someone special,” he repeated, a soft smirk on his face that caused the skin next to his eyes to crinkle ever so lightly. “What would that someone special be like?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle as he stretched his arms, interlocking his hands behind his head as he kept his eyes focused on you.

“Well,” you began, a sly smile dragging the corners of your mouth upwards, “He’d have to be handsome. And rich, of course,” you teased.

“Of course,” Steve echoed, amusement written over his face.

You continued: “I like ‘em blond. Blue eyes. Abs for days. Handsome guys, you know.”

Warmth spread through your face and neck as his smirk deepened.

“Sounds like you got a pretty specific type, don’t ya?” His voice dripped with delight as he took in your words, and you could tell that he felt rather smug.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” you replied, now leaning in closer to him.

“You know anybody like that?” He grinned from ear to ear, releasing his hands from the back of his head and he also shifted towards you.

“Oh, well, Thor’s a really great guy, don’t you think?”

The way his smile dropped, and his breath hitched almost sent you keeling over. Steve Rogers was a man of many talents, but his ability to look like a kicked dog was almost uncanny.

“Thor,” he repeated, feigning hurt at your words. “You gonna choose a god? One whose biceps the size of my head?”

You couldn’t keep your laughter in any longer, the sounds bubbling from your throat as you rested your hand on his thigh.

“I’m kidding,” you giggled, “Guess I’d be okay with settling for a guy with a shield. But it has to be really cool one.”

He rolled his eyes playfully. “My shield’s the coolest. That’s gotta mean that I’m in the running, right?”

“I guess you qualify.”

thank you for reading :) gentle reminder that likes are more than appreciated but comments and reblogs make the dream work

[demie90s]

Why Wait

Brittney Griner x fem!rookie!reader

MASTERLIST | MORE

Summary: What starts as a late-night swim turns into a teasing, intimate moment poolside—complete with soft kisses, whispered praise, and a little public risk.

Genre: Soft smut, humor, couple energy

Word count: ~ 1.3k

Warnings: SMUT, Explicit sexual content, cursing, poolside shenanigans, established situationship/marriage-like dynamic, oral (receiving), public (well?)

The hotel room was dark except for the TV glow, one sock dangling from the lamp like it had a purpose. We were supposed to be asleep—hell, the whole team was supposed to be asleep—but BG was stretched across the bed, remote in one hand, chewing on a piece of candy she found like it was dinner.

She looked over at me like a child with a bad idea already loaded in her mouth.

“Let’s go swimming.”

“…girl, it’s 1AM.” I barely blinked.

“……soooo?” she smirked.

I exhaled through my nose, already sliding off the bed. “Let’s go.”

We crept through the side stairwell like teenagers sneaking out their mama’s house, towels slung over our shoulders, our shoes whispering against the tiles.

The pool deck was empty—lights dimmed, water glowing like it had secrets. BG dove in without hesitation, big ass just gliding smooth like a damn shark.

I sat on the edge, feet in the water, giggling to myself while she swam a lazy lap and then floated toward me.

“You look good sittin’ there like that.” Her voice was soft, but smug. Confident like she knew exactly what was coming next.

She swam up close, hands sliding over my shins, then my knees, slow and warm. Then she spread her hands on my thighs, thumbs rubbing circles into the softest part. I shivered, even though the air wasn’t cold.

“Girl you tew freaked out, chill on me.”

“I’m not even doing nothing,” she lied so bad, grinning up at me with her dimples.

One kiss—sweet. Just lips on lips. Then she pulled me gently back, laying me out on the cool tiles like I was her private little offering. She tugged my shorts to the side like she was too lazy to take ‘em off proper, like she knew she wasn’t gone need to. Not with how easy I melted.

“Brittney?!” I hissed, eyes wide, looking at the damn lifeguard chair like somebody might pop up outta thin air.

“What? Ain’t nobody out here.”

“Girl…” I didn’t finish, couldn’t. Her tongue slid between my folds and all that attitude I had . Gone. Slurred outta me.

She ate it like she missed it. Like I was her midnight snack, post-game feast, Sunday dinner and dessert. Soft moans left her lips while she stayed locked on my face, watching me breathe, twitch, whimper—like she liked the control, but she loved the taste more.

I was grinding against her mouth, lowkey embarrassed by how loud the water sounded slapping around us. She didn’t care. Just slipped two fingers inside like we had time, like she knew how far she could push it before I broke.

“Keep lookin’ at me,” she whispered, tongue flicking my clit like it was her name in cursive. “I said…keep lookin’.”

I did. I had to. She had me locked in, legs shaking, hands gripping wet tile, mouth open and no words coming out but high, broken little sounds. She flattened her tongue and groaned against me, making everything worse—in the best way.

She didn’t stop till my thighs quivering around her shoulders. And even then, she just kissed it once, like a thank you.

When she finally stood, I was laid out like a crime scene, blinking at the sky like I forgot what year it was. She leaned down and kissed my lips again, slow.

“You always this easy?”

I squinted up at her, breathless. “You 6’8 and nasty. What the hell I’m supposed to do?”

The walk back through the hotel lobby was disrespectfully romantic.

I had on a wrinkled U.S.A. hoodie and pool water still drying between my thighs, but BG. Oh honey. She was walking like we just got back from a honeymoon. Holding my hand. Fingers laced. Swinging our arms like we were strolling through Target on a Sunday afternoon.

I glance down and realize she’s using her shirt to dry my hand.

“Brittney…”

“What?” she shrugs like this normal. “You cold. Come here.”

Next thing I know, she’s wrapping her big-ass arm around my shoulder, tucking me into her side like a lil suitcase.

I mean…we do fit. Too well.

Two girls at the front desk clock us immediately, whispering like they just spotted Beyoncé and Jay-Z. One of them mouths “Is that Brittney Griner?” and I feel BG squeeze my shoulder tighter.

“Mhm,” she mumbles down at me, “they gon’ be thinkin’ I’m your wife.”

“You act like it,” I mutter, rolling my eyes, but I don’t move. Not yet.

We get into the elevator. I’m tired now, body loose and warm from the pool and her mouth and all that damn praise. I lean against her without even thinking about it—head to her chest, hand on her stomach, body melting against her like a sleepy wife after a long day.

Her hand wraps around my back. Soft at first. Rubbing gentle. Then lower. Then a little lower.

Then— Smack.

I jump so hard I hit the wall. “Girl!”

“What?” she smiles, innocent, like she ain’t just tried to turn me into an ice cream cone on the floor. “I was…thankin’ you.”

“For what?”

“For being so damn thick.”

I back up to the other side of the elevator, eyes wide. “Let—girl, get away from me.”

BG just leans back with her arms crossed, smiling like she just won a trophy.

“Once again. I’ve done absolutely nothing.”

The doors ding open and I sprint out. Like full stride. Crocs slapping, towel flying behind me like a cape.

She laughs and chases after me, barefoot with wet hair, calling my name through the hallway like we ain’t supposed to be professionals.

“Y/N—stop runnin’, damn!”

“Nope! Not after that ass grab. I need space. You disrespectful.”

“Baby, come onnnn!”

The hall lights flicker past as I take a sharp left, barely getting my keycard out before she catches me around the waist and spins me right into the hotel door. Her arms caged around me, lips brushing my ear, breath warm.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, voice low. “Lemme make it up to you.” I turn around slow, panting, and hoodie damp, staring up at her.

“…You know you not sorry.”

She just grins. “You right. But I am still hungry.”

I gasp. “BRITTNEY—”

The next morning We looked a mess.

My hoodie was stretched, one sleeve halfway inside out. BG had on a random team shirt I don’t even think belonged to her. Her bun was lopsided.

I had a hickey on my jaw the size of a credit card. Neither of us had earrings on. And both our slides were mismatched, like we’d gotten dressed during a fire drill.

We walked into the gym dead silent, holding coffee cups and shame.

Well—I held shame. Brittney looked proud. Like her night went exactly how she planned it. She was even rubbing my back gently, like I was her little injured housewife or something.

“You good?” she whispered, leaning down as I yawned mid-step.

“Girl, shut up. Don’t talk to me.”

She grinned into her straw. “You still mad I smacked it twice?”

“…You smacked it four times.”

“Damn. My bad.” She wasn’t sorry.

Coach spotted us immediately. His eyes squinted. Took in the matching sluggish gait, the way she kept massaging my shoulder, the very obvious bruise peeking above my collar. He stared for a second longer than usual. Sipped his coffee.

Then sighed.

“Y’all lucky I stopped giving a damn.”

I blinked. BG sipped her drink.

He turned back to his clipboard and mumbled, “Get on the line when y’all done pretending y’all not married.”

Brittney leaned down, whispered with a smirk, “You wanna stretch or…”

I turned, dead in the face.

“You touch me again and I will hit you with a basketball.”

“Still worth it,” she grinned, jogging off like she ain’t got no damn sense.

We never took it serious. But it always felt real. Like it wasn’t just a situationship. Or a fling. It was just us. Effortless. Dumb. Nasty. Loving. Wrong in some ways. Right in all the ones that mattered.

We wouldn’t change a thing.

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