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silverzoomies · 11 months ago

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Turkish Delight

peter maximoff x reader smut

chapter 1: sweet talkin'

link to chapter 2: here

warnings: shameless smut, porn without plot, phone sex, mutual masturbation, best friends, dirty talk

word count: 6,368

a/n: hiyaaa !! i'm back with more filth !! peter speaks russian in this one. i've seen people use russian in place of sokovian language before. and since i've been learning russian for a while, i thought i'd give it a shot !! if you're familiar with the language and anything seems off, please let know asap !! as usual, apologies if peter seems ooc, or if my writing isn't up to par !!

tag list (if i forgot you, please remind me !!): @dewberryobssesed @violetharmonscupcake @kaismanwich @jellyluvr @taintandviolent @ahoyladiesz @scene-and-dandylover @quickandsilvers @luttic @billielourdslays

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Chillaxing on the sofa in his mom’s basement, Peter drew out a sigh. His hooded eyes gaped at the TV screen. As he channel surfed, his thumb tapped lazily on the remote. Peter stopped to check each channel in abrupt intervals. Afternoon cable was boring as hell today. It failed to grasp his short lived attention span.

Seinfeld reruns? He saw just about all of ‘em. Soap Operas? Those were more his mom’s thing. Huge pass. Nature documentaries? Could be cool. Guess it depended on which one, though.

Oh. It was the one about the polar bear’s great journey across the arctic! Nifty enough. Except, Peter saw that one three or four times already now. Скучный (boring). Так скучно (So boring).

‘Kay, soooo…TV was kind of a no-go. Instead, Peter popped on the PS1 and settled for a game of Metal Gear Solid. The game’s opening intro was a little too slow for his liking, but Peter forced himself to focus. It sucked he was so antsy today, so fidgety and impatient. He needed some kind of distraction. Any distraction. And he needed one fast.

Peter bounced a leg, half invested in the game’s dialogue. His fingers absentmindedly flicked the controller buttons. Not even five minutes into playing, he found himself frustrated and bored again. This time around, he figured some company might ease his ennui.

He darted across the arm of the couch to a side table. Over a stack of comic books and empty cans of soda, he snatched the receiver to a Garfield phone. Peter dialed a number in less than a second. Too fast, at first. The phone didn’t even register his request. Rolling his eyes, he dialed the number again. Slower this time.

Peter kept the vibrant hunk of orange plastic between his cheek and shoulder. Buzzy ringing echoed on the other end of the line, as he waited for the recipient to pick up. The time it took for a voice to finally respond felt like fifty billion years. Your voice. One of Peter’s closest comrades. The pal he shared most, if not all, of his free time with.

There were days when you visited, and you laid back on the sofa with him. With your legs stretched over his lap and a magazine in your hands, you relaxed. Peter would always do his usual, playing whatever game he ‘bought�� from the local K-Mart. Every time he cursed himself for making a misstep, you giggled. You knew how frustrating it was for him, if he wasn't a hundred leaps ahead of everything. And just to get back at you - but also to hear you laugh again - he’d reach over and dig his fingers into your belly.

He loved that it took such minimal effort to make you laugh. You always had an easygoing warmth about you. And maybe you were also pretty cute too. Sometimes, the crook of your smile made him blush. Oh, and you didn't mind duking it out in Mario Kart sometimes. That was also kinda cool. What more could a lonesome guy ask for? Просто друзья. Ничего больше (Just friends. Nothing more). Yeah. He could be content with that. No problem.

Ten minutes into conversation with you, Peter breathed a yawn into the receiver.

“You know, I’m surprised you have the patience for talking on the phone.” You joked.

The speakers roared with a soft buzz in his ear. Peter didn’t register your words at first. Blinking lazily, he tapped the PS1 controller buttons at rapid speed. In the game, Snake fought off an onslaught of bad guys. Peter faked his offense with a scoff.

“Seriously? Man, what’s up with that? It’s like everyone thinks I can’t do stuff at normal speed without goin’ berserk.” He said, cursing under his breath as Snake got gunned down again.

A small part of him wished you were there, with your legs over his lap, cracking jokes at his expense. Over the phone, you emitted a gentle laugh.

“Because you have? Multiple times, dude!” You said.

Surely you could hear Peter’s eyes roll in his skull.

“Oh, yeah? Name five.” he pressed.

The fast paced clicking of the buttons echoed like a trill in the basement. He overheard the sound of rustling as you shifted in place. If Peter had to guess, he’d bet his left foot you were still lazing around in bed. It was a Saturday, after all. With the hour tipping on the edge of late afternoon. You always moved at the slowest of speeds on your off days.

“I’m just saying! I totally get it. Even I don’t have the patience for chats on the phone sometimes.” You said, and a squeaky yawn followed.

More rustles scuffed from your end, as if you moved to stretch. Keeping his gaze fixed on the flickering, CRT screen; Peter followed flashes of light from each grunt’s gun. His reaction time proved effortless as always. His methods, not so much.

“Nah, it’s cool.” Peter mumbled after a beat, “Doesn’t bother me much if I’m talkin’ to you. You’re not boring, first of all. And on the off chance I do get bored, I can just say - hey, babe, I’m gonna hang up. And you won’t get-uhhh…” He lingered on his next thought, distracted with gunning down more masked baddies, “You won’t get, like, butt hurt over it."

“Why would I?” You laughed, “Did someone seriously get offended by that?”

“My aunt did once. She got mad pissed ‘cuz I told her I was ‘kinda bored’ on the phone. She made me pass it to my mom, so she could rat me out. Said I showed a ‘lack of consideration'; ‘er whatever.” Peter paused, brows furrowed. In Metal Gear, Snake perished yet again. Peter rolled his eyes once more, “She’s kinda mental, though. это возмутительно (it’s outrageous).”

Your only response was a quiet hum of acknowledgement. Peter broke the silence that followed.

“Hey, you’re not busy today, are you? Wanna do somethin’ later?” He asked, knowing full well you had jack shit to do.

“I don’t know. I’m feeling soooooo lazy today.” You playfully teased.

The soft pattern of your breathing sent electric tingles down Peter’s neck. Shuddering, he shook off those unexpected chills. Another beat, and Peter groaned, as Snake perished over a low poly landscape. You gotta take it slow and stealthy, man - Peter reminded himself.

“Хорошо (okay)? So? Come be lazy over here then.” He replied, “Tell you what. If you do, I’ll go ‘n snag some of those Turkish delights you like. The same ones my mom gotcha for your birthday. Remember? From Sokovia?”

Your voice perked up instantly, bringing a cheesy smile to his face. Homely fondness simmered in his chest, and Peter felt himself blush. He pulled his lip between his teeth, pausing his game to focus more on conversation. Leaving Snake stranded in the middle of the snow.

“Oh my gosh!! No way?? I haven’t had those in forever! Seriously, the ones from Sokovia?” You chimed.

“Hell yeah! But you gotta get outta bed first, dingus. C’monnnn.” Peter whined, “I’m so bored here, babe. Oh! I totally forgot. I finally got my hands on a Gameboy Color too. Swear on my life I paid for it this time. You could come over ‘n try it ouuuuuut.” He teased in a sing-song voice, wiggling his brows.

“Gameboys and Turkish delights? You’re spoiling me today, Peter! What’s the occasion?” You joked over the line.

He shrugged, forgetting you couldn’t see him, “Bored outta my friggin’ skull. That’s what.” After a beat, he awkwardly added, “And maybe I like hangin’ with you? Do I even need a reason?”

“Well, I gotta admit…you had me at Turkish delights.” You feigned a dreamy tone.

Peter chuckled again. Under his breath, he muttered softly, “ Это все, что тебе нужно, да (That’s all you need, huh)?”

“Huh?” You asked, oblivious to his comment, “What’d you say? I didn’t catch that last part.”

Peter ran a hand through his silver locks, leaving his hair loose and messy. Cradling the phone in his other hand, he knitted his lips to one side.

“Nothin’. Don’t worry about it. You want me to come get you? ‘Cuz I can.” He checked his digital watch, decked out in a Star Wars theme, “I can right now, if you-”

“It’s fine. I love going out with you, but I really don’t wanna deal with motion sickness today. I just had lunch too. No offense!” Another yawn rang over the phone, hitching into a squeal at the end. Peter didn’t realize he was smiling so big until his cheeks started to hurt, “I’ll just drive over. Sound good?”

Peter rolled his eyes, sarcastically groaning. He threw his head back into the sofa cushions, playing up his fake frustrations.

“Auuuuuuugh! But that’ll take years.” He dragged a hand down his face, pulling his cheeks under his fingertips, “Is this ‘cuz you blew chunks last time?? You know that doesn’t bother me, right? Everyone does it, babe.”

You made a noise of disgust. Something like an eugh , “Please, don’t remind me. That sucked so much. Yeah, no, I’d rather not. I really need a break from it.” You sighed again. Kind of a bummer, but he could deal.

“It’s whatever you want, I guess. So, when are you gonna head out?” Peter asked, sitting up on the sofa and putting the controller aside.

He bounced a leg at rapid speed, his knee moving in a flesh tone blur of motion. Less from agitation, more due to anticipation.

“I’ll leave soon. Just give me a few minutes. Think you can wait?” You chuckled in that sweet, quirky way again. The melody gave Peter butterflies. Ignoring the fluttering in his belly, he pushed himself off the couch. Grabbing the base of the Garfield phone, Peter cradled the lil guy in an arm. He figured he may as well get dressed, and freshen up before you arrived, “It’s so cold today. I haven’t even gotten out of bed yet! I’m still bundled up in my undies. Got your jacket on too. You left a Game n Watch in the pocket, by the way. I didn’t even know they still made those!”

“Yeah. I totally called that one. Get up already, ya slacker.” Peter joked trapping the phone between his cheek and shoulder again. He scratched his bare chest. His fingertips grazed the sparse covering of white hairs there. Yawning, he nodded, “Okay. Okay. Okay. Sure, just-”

Something about your last statement finally clicked in Peter’s brain. He rapidly blinked, shaking his head fast enough to give himself whiplash. Peter did a quadruple take.

“Подожди (wait)! Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, waiiiiiit …hold on a sec.” He narrowed his eyes, “Say that again?”

“Say what again? The part about the Game n Watch?” You asked, and Peter’s brows furrowed.

“N-Nah. The…did you just…have you been lyin’ around in your underwear this whole time?”

“Uh, yeah? Why? Is this revolutionary information?” You chuckled.

“In my jacket? Like, I didn’t hear that wrong? What’d you like…sleep in it ‘er somethin’?” Peter arched a silver brow, pressing the phone handset closer to his cheek. As if doing so might somehow help him hear you more clearly.

It really wasn’t that big of a deal either way. You borrowed his jackets all the time. Peter never thought anything of it before this conversation. Aside from the fact that - when you did return them, he loved the sweet scent you left behind. The smell of your perfume, with the added bonus of your natural pheromones…

Ебать (Fuck)! Why was he even thinking about this? The two of you had such a casual thing goin’ on. But now, Peter thought of you in a different light. Something friskier. Not that he meant to. Maybe killer boredom + cute friend = horny speedster. Or perhaps the planets aligned in some totally off-the-wall way.

Whatever the case, Peter’s mind raced on autopilot. He pictured the way you might look right now. In your room, spread across your bed in nothing but your underwear and - Ебена мать (Holy shit) - his jacket. With your long legs bare, your knees bumping together as you squeezed your thighs shut. Tummy exposed. And your tits-

Woooooooah there! Slow down, casanova! Peter shouldn’t be…nah, he really shouldn’t be wondering what your breasts looked like. Ppfffbbbbt …’kay, so, maybe in the past he thought about it once or twice. But what dude wouldn't contemplate the hidden mystery of a pal's titties sometimes, ah?

“Well, so what if I did? That doesn’t weird you out, does it?” You asked, a careful waver in your voice.

“Uhhhh…nahhh, babe. Just…” Peter shifted in place, rerouting his thoughts, “Just…got one hell of an image in my head. Might’ve pictured you like that for no particular reason at all.”

Lucky for him, you didn’t seem to think anything of his confession.

“Not much to imagine…” You replied. Сомнительно (Doubtful).

“I mean…pffbbbttt…sure, yeah. Maybe not.” Peter awkwardly laughed, scratching the back of his neck. His voice dropped, a little more hushed, “Unless…you’re wearin’ some really cute panties over there.” Again, he laughed, rushing out a quick, “I’m kiddin’. I’m kiddin’. I’m kiddin’. I’m totally messin’. Just bustin’ your balls, babe.”

Except…he sorta wasn’t. Peter found himself oh-so curious. Twisting the phone's orange wire around his finger, he anticipated your reaction. Anxious you might think him weird for pushing things too far. Never had the two of you charted this kind of territory. It was a minefield, with a 95% chance neither one would make it out unscathed.

“I guess? I think they’re kind of cute.” You added, innocent as ever. Awesome. You weren’t peeved at him, at least. Peter brought the phone to his chest, exhaling an anxious breath to calm his racing heart. When he put the phone to his ear again, he figured you’d moved on. But your cadence shifted. To test the boundaries of your friendship, you teased, “They’re pretty small on me, though.”

Ah. Ah. Интересно. Очень интересно (Interesting. Very interesting). What an unexpected but totally wicked development. Peter lowered himself slowly onto the couch, setting the phone's base on the side table. He eased backwards into the cushions, and tightened his twisting of the phone wire. Swallowing hard, Peter found he had difficulty focusing. Especially with his imagination running so goddamn wild.

“Yeah? …How small is pretty small?” He dared to ask.

Long seconds of silence ticked by at the pace of a narcoleptic sloth. If Peter weren’t so eager to hear what you had to say, he may have torn his hair out. Over the line, you laughed.

“Small enough they barely cover my ass? Why are you so curious all of a sudden?” You cooed.

Peter fluttered his inky eyes, nibbling chapped skin on his lip. Fuzzy pink swarmed the rest of his face, as his mind conjured images of you so effortlessly. Clear as day. Heat stirred to life in his groin, and Peter pictured the way your plush cheeks might hold in tight painties. His breath hitched.

“I-uh…” Peter felt the heat in his cheeks creep down his neck, flustered at lightspeed, “Just thinkin’...maybe you should do somethin’ about that?” He gritted his teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose. What a lame response, “Черт возьми (damn it)!” He huffed under his breath, too quiet for you to hear.

Toying with this newly discovered sexual tension, Peter humorously asked-

“Sooooooo…what color?”

You giggled into the receiver, airy and light. His body registered the noise somewhere , down south of his belly. He wondered if you were as flustered as him. And the visual of your bashful face and shy smile had his heartbeat ramping up to mach 10.

“What? A-Are you for real asking me…oh my god, dude!” Your giggles turned into goofy snorts. Which he found so endearing. Once you composed yourself, you spoke again. Though, your tone came off as more flirtatious, “If you really wanna know so bad…then fine. They’re black. Lacy. With a little bow on the front.”

Дерьмо (Shit)...

His silver brows soared high, disappearing under his bangs. Paying little attention to his instinctive actions, Peter guided his free hand between his thighs. Inwardly, he told himself he was only adjusting his uncomfortable hard-on. ‘Cuz it’d be totally weird if he did anything else…right? Best to ignore the movement of his thumb, as it absentmindedly circled his bulge.

“Huh…that’s so…” Peter blinked, clearing his throat and masking his nerves with a chuckle, “‘Kay, I’ll be up front with you, babe. That sounds cute as hell. Very nice.”

“Really? Oh, please, Peter. They’d be cute on anybody.” You scoffed.

“Uh huh…” He smirked, dropping his tone even lower, “‘Cept, now that I’m really thinkin’ about it? I’m bettin’ they look criminally cute on you.” Peter lazily smirked.

You laughed, breathless like you ran a thousand miles, “Wh-...what are we even doing right now? Seriously, why am I talking to you about my-” The uneasiness in your voice bled through the line.

Your concern was for good reason. Nevertheless, Peter interrupted you mid-sentence.

“Easy there, chuckles. We’re just chatting. Nothin’ too unusual, right? We’ve had some seriously raunchy conversations before. Remember? That time I got laid on a golf course? You told me about that time some dude shot a load in your eye. What’s the difference, anyway?” Peter grimaced, as he recalled your story from eons ago.

You giggled yet again, “Peter, you know damn well what the difference is!” You clarified with a sigh, still playful. The phone wire went slack around his finger, as Peter second guessed himself. He parted his lips, on the cusp of apologizing. Bringing one hand up to the phone, he held it loosely. Your sugary voice chimed again, “I’m kinda wondering, though…what would you think if I told you I’m topless right now?”

His grip compressed around the handset.

“Topless, huh?” Peter cast a quick glance at his hard-on, twitching painfully under his boxers. His mind jumped straight to sinful places again. Peter thought about what your tits probably look like, embraced in his jacket. Nipples hard, grazing the inner-lining. He swallowed, “What’re you tryna tell me? You gonna drive over here in nothin’ but that?” Peter quipped.

A more sultry laugh melted through the receiver. Peter trembled, as your smooth voice coaxed him like a tempting song. His free palm squeezed his bulge, putting pressure to his length over fabric. Peter’s brows turned inward, and he fluttered his eyes shut.

“I guess that wouldn’t be so bad, if it wasn’t so cold outside. It’s freezing today. I don’t know how you can run as fast as you do when the weather’s like this.” Your tone disguised itself with lighthearted innocence again, “It’s not any warmer in my room either. My nipples could cut glass. They’re, like, soooo hard.”

Peter adjusted himself on the sofa, giving the swell of his bulge another teasing squeeze.

“ Ты маленькая соблазнительниц�� (you little temptress)...” His hot breath fanned the phone.

“I love it when you talk like that…” You replied, “Even if I have no idea what you’re saying. It sounds really hot, to be totally honest.”

“Oh, yeah?” Peter teased his lip with his teeth, speaking in a more flirtatious voice; buttery smooth, “ Я забыл вынести мусор (I forgot to take out the trash)...” For added effect - just to embarrass you more - he tacked on a husky moan.

Peter made himself blush, as the sound came out far more pornagraphic than he intended. The rasp of his voice scraped through the line in a hushed, “ Oh, yeah, baby. ”

The erotic tension you felt from his teasing was palpable, even over the phone. Peter could sense the shift in the way you gasped. So faint, so shy, so cute.

“Oh…oh, wow...uhm…” You tried concealing your bashfulness with more of those candy coated giggles. But Peter could practically hear the blood racing to your cheeks, “What’s that mean? Something good, I hope.”

Peter bit his tongue, lips turning in a cheeky grin.

“It means you’re really turnin’ me on…”

Another hesitant pause fell between the two of you, before you scoffed.

“Oh my god, no it doesn’t! I can hear you laughing!” You griped, snickering along with Peter. A few more tension heavy beats pulsed over the line. You spoke again, “Hey…I’m sorry. Can I put things on pause for a sec? I just wanted to ask…are you okay with this?”

“Are you?” Peter gently asked, giving you ample time to think about it.

“I don’t know…maybe…” You whispered, “Isn’t this, like, super weird for you?”

“I mean…suuuuuuure. It’s totally weird. If you kept goin', I wouldn't be into it...at all...” He bullied you with a playful edge, hoping you could read the flirtatious undertone in his voice.

“Ohhhhh…you wouldn't be?” Judging by the saucy lilt in your voice, you most definitely caught on, “You know what would be even weirder?”

Peter adjusted on the sofa again. Getting comfortable, he laid on his back. His taut legs stretched across the cushions, and Peter propped his head on the couch’s arm.

“Whazzat? Enlighten me, babe. I’m listenin’. You got my full attention.” He teased.

“Your full attention, huh? I must be doing something right.” You snickered, “So…you know how I said I love it when you talk…like that?” Your voice wavered, “What I really meant was-uhm…when you do that on the phone…it makes me kind of horny.”

His brown hues burst open, wider than ever. Peter’s pupils dilated, expanding as far as the universe itself. He swallowed again, his mouth falling open. Your filthy confession set his arousal ablaze, making his dick twitch. As heated desire took over, Peter couldn’t restrain himself. He snuck his fingers under the waistband of his boxers, fingertips gliding over silver hairs. A small piece of him almost felt guilty for doing so.

“It does, huh? Хорошо знать (Good to know).” Peter whispered, tenderly grasping his shaft.

You made a naughty squeak of a noise in response, “Y-Yeah, Peter, I’m serious. You really have to stop doing that.”

“Почему (Why)? Are you soakin’ yourself over it? Gettin’ a lil wet? It’s cool. You can tell me…” Peter heckled, expelling a breath as he gave his dick a single tug.

“Oh, I bet you wanna know all about that, huh? You’re so bad, Quickie...” You teased, clicking your tongue.

Peter’s ears burned, turning pink as he took in the coquettish nature of your voice. Scoffing, he feigned his indignance.

“What?! Hey, nah nah nah! You started this! Это несправедливо, черт возьми (it’s not fair. Dammit)!” Peter laughed, carefree with you as always, “You can’t seriously drop a bombshell like that and expect me not to-”

“Not to come running?” You hummed, sweet tempered, “I’m just messing with you, baby. But since we’re on the topic…I made such a mess of these little panties. Just from listening to your voice.”

Peter couldn’t even pretend he didn’t like the sound of ‘baby’ on your tongue.

“Oh, man…anything but the panties…” He joked, “You should-uh…you should save yourself some trouble. Y’know…take ‘em off, maybe? Might be more comfortable.” Peter hinted, playing nonchalant, “Just tryna be a good friend. Give you some advice. You should for sure take it.”

“But I’m already so cold…” You whimpered, “Your jacket’s so warm. Smells good too. Really good. But it’s not enough to keep me covered.” You spoke with flirtatious innocence, and Peter played along.

“No harm done, принцесса (princess). I’ll warm you up if you need me to.” He reassured, sweet talking you over the phone, “Ты думаешь, что я не позабочусь о тебе? (Do you think I won't take care of you)?" Peter mumbled again. He listened to your sickly sweet laughs, before asking, “So…do you get like this every time we talk on the phone?”

“Mmmm…maybe.” You hummed, “What if I said yes?” You shuffled around again, and Peter’s mind jumped elsewhere. He imagined you shed yourself of damp, black lace. Leaving you wanton and needy in nothing but his jacket, “You know…we’ve been talking about me a lot this whole time. You wanna tell me what you’re wearing? I don’t really have a visual.”

“Oh…me?” Your request caught Peter off guard.

“Yeah, you. Who else, blockhead?” You playfully quipped, smoothing your voice to say, “You don’t have to be shy. I just wanna know, so I can think about taking it off of you.”

Peter didn’t know he could blush this much. Puffing a bashful laugh, he looked down at his body. Mostly nude and toned enough. He had his x-gene to thank for his pecs and hard abs. A fluffy bouquet of silver hairs peeked out from his boxers. Underneath, his dick throbbed, pressing eagerly into fabric.

“Uhm…I’m not wearin’ a lot? Nothin’ special. Just some black, boxer briefs, I guess. Wait, no-” Peter lifted a foot, his lips curling in a goofy smile, “Got my Star Wars socks on too.”

A sensual moan graced his ears, “That’s so hot.” You softly whined, “Star Wars socks? Peter, just take me now.”

Despite the fact you were totally messing with him, that playful comment made his chest tight.

“Nothing else though?” You pressed.

“Nnnnnnnnnnope.” He drew out the word, popping the P, “Just the-uh…yeah. Boxers ‘n sexy socks. Not much to take off.”

“And you’re pretty fit, aren’t you? You always looked really jacked to me, so-” You said.

Peter cocked a brow, snickering to cover his embarrassment.

“Wooooahhh…you been checkin’ me out, babe?” He asked, darting his dark hues across his athletic bod. Peter flexed an arm, “Sure, I guess I’m in decent shape.” He found he couldn’t dismiss your compliments. Peter looked good, and he knew it. But he preferred hearing it from you, “Hey, you wanna know somethin’, like, way crazy?”

“This? What we’re doing right now is so crazy, right?” You laughed, sounding as bashful as him.

Peter snickered, “True. Truuuue. But, uh…” He shrank in his spot on the couch, pressing the vibrant handset closer into his cheek. Pre-cum seeped through his boxers, as Peter tugged his dick steady and slow. Careful not to stimulate himself too much yet. He dropped his voice to a hushed rasp, “I’m kinda in the same spot you are right now. If you-uh…if you catch my drift.”

The two of you knew each other for a long time. Several years, in fact. But never once did Peter think he’d hear his closest pal say-

“Ohhhh. Are you hard right now, baby?”

Oh. Yeah, this buddy-buddy friendship was in major trouble. Doomed to crash and burn. As soon as the words fell from your lips, spoken in your honeyed voice; Peter’s breath hitched in his throat. He sank his teeth so hard into his lip, he almost broke skin.

“Y-Yeah. Since you-uh…started talkin’ about your panties. I’m sorry, babe. Just been kinda bored and worked up all day.” He sheepishly chuckled.

“You poor baby…” You coddled him over the phone. And while he should’ve been embarrassed, Peter had no problem with you talking like that, “Can I ask how big you are?”

Peter stalled for a moment, before pulling the front of his boxers down. His hardness flopped against his belly, pulsating and ruddy from his teasing. Taking his aching length in his hand, he rubbed the underside with his thumb.

“You mean my dick? It’s-uhhhh…like six, maybe seven inches almost?” He squeezed his cock, milking beads of pre-cum, “But size doesn’t matter, yeah? It’s the motion of the ocean, babe.”

“Noooooo, baby. You’re so perfect. Wish I could see how good you look like that…” You cooed over the phone.

Your kindly words and airy tone made the veins in his dick throb with electric heat. Peter clutched his cock tight, pumping the velvet skin a touch faster. Giving himself just a simple taste of relief. His stomach clenched, hardening his abs.

“Не так идеально, как ты выглядишь (Not as perfect as you look)...” Peter muttered, drawing in a shallow breath, “Babe, I gotta tell ya, I’m really feelin’ this. I’m so into you right now. W-Want you to keep talkin’ like-uh...”

His imagination took his depravity to the next level. Now, Peter thought about joining you in your room. He wondered how soft and smooth your skin would feel. Supple and hot under his fingertips. What might you look like writhing under him, whimpering as he played with you? As he teased you? Man, you were both so screwed.

“Never thought dirty talking with me would turn you on so much…” You giggled.

Peter secured the handset between his cheek and shoulder. With both hands free, he raised his palm to his lips. He drew a long stripe with his tongue, bringing his damp hand to his cock. The slick lubrication pulled a gentle moan from his throat.

“M-Maybe a little bit. Ебать (Fuck), maybe a lot.” Peter groaned, labored in his breathing, “Can you - Ебать (fuck) - you wanna do somethin’ for me? Just a little favor between friends? S’all I’m askin’, baby.”

“Anything you want, Peter.” You mewled.

“Can you- mmmmohgod -” Peter choked up. He almost chickened out, but pushed himself to ask, “Can you touch yourself for me? Please? Пожалуйста, моя маленькая принцесса (Please, my little princess)...” His foreign whispers weaved pretty whimpers from your lips.

“Yeah. Yeah, I can do that, if you want me to. But you have to do the same for me too. It’s only fair, right? Equal exchange?” You whispered, acting playful again.

Peter breathed a guilty chuckle, “Uhm…yeahhhhh…about that…”

You softly gasped, “Have you been-”

“Playin’ with my dick this whole time? Maybe.” Peter admitted. His thumb caught another pearl of pre, spreading the slickness over his sensitive head, “But I’m not, like, totally jerkin’ it yet…” He lied, pressing you to encourage him.

“Oh, you’re not, huh? What are you doing then?” You asked, “Are you being a bad boy, Pietro?” The abrupt drop of his given name shocked him into silence.

Peter felt his groin tighten, and an exhilarating rush electrified his nerves. For the thousandth time, you giggled. And for the thousandth time, Peter’s heart leapt. Dumbfounded, he gathered his composure and played along again.

“Y-Yeah. So bad. You gotta help me, babe. I’m just-...I’m so hard. Don’t think I can stop myself if you keep talkin’ like that.”

Through the receiver, Peter’s ears caught wind of a needy mewl. He gripped his cock hard, guiding his fist in firmer strokes. His legs quivered, and the heels of his Star Wars socks slid across the couch.

“Does it feel good when you touch your pretty cock like that, sweetheart?” You cooed.

Peter almost went straight into cardiac arrest. He jolted in place, feeling his cock stiffen in his grasp.

“Святой трах (Holy fuck)..." Peter suffocated on his own groans. For an instant, his words failed him, “Uhmmm…hah…wow-uh…Ебать (fuck). Feels good, yeah. Don’t think it’s enough. I need-...uhm…I want-uh…”

“Yeah? What do you want, baby. It’s okay.” You spoke so sugary sweet again.

“I-...Я просто хочу увидеть тебя (I just want to see you)...” Peter’s veins tingled under his touch, as he tugged his dick with more urgency, “Shit! I-...how come I never knew you could be like this-” And to Peter’s ultimate humiliation, he whimpered your name. Along with another whiny, “ Ебать (Fuck). ”

“Like what?” Your coy voice teased him over the line.

“I dunno…so-uh…so damn nasty.” He joked, and even through the phone; he knew he had you flustered again.

“I guess we all have our secrets, hmm? Tell me more, Pietro. When you touch yourself like that. With those big, strong hands…how’s it feel?” You asked, driving him to keep going.

Peter snorted a laugh, “Strong hands? What??” His endearing playfulness took a backseat, as he grunted into the receiver, “God…feels like my strong hand’s not enough. Мне реально тебе нужно прямо сейчас. Нужна так сильно (I really need you right now. I need you so much).” His voice fell to a whisper. Pumping his slick, crimson cock through his fist, he breathlessly pleaded, “Talk to me, baby. Please. Tell me-ohhh…tell me what you’re doin’ over there.”

You squealed a sultry giggle, further igniting Peter’s pleasured frenzy. He squirmed in his spot on the sofa, forcing himself to stay put. Battling the forces of the universe, it was all Peter could do not to race to your room. Just to spread your legs and hump you like a speedy bunny.

“Mmmm…I’m just doing what you asked me to…I’m being so good for you right now.” You whimpered.

“Oh. Okay…uhm…far out. Uh…wanna gimme the steamy details?” He heckled again, fumbling his words in his nervousness, “Please, don’t hold off on me, baby.”

“I’m…” Your precious voice wavered, teeming with awkwardness as your confidence dwindled, “I’m playing with my little pussy. Just for you. And I’m so wet. I can’t stop thinking about your hands…so big…”

“Боже мой (my god).” Peter muttered. Combating impatience brought upon by his genes, he willed himself to take things slow. His strokes became steady and teasing, as he edged his aching cock, “Holy shit, babe. Yeah? Keep goin’...”

You moaned soft squeals into the receiver, “I want you so bad, Quickie. Please, baby, don’t make me beg. Can you touch this little pussy for me? Please? Your fingers are so big. I don’t think they’d fit all at once. It’s been a while, and I’m so tight.” Your naughty voice pleaded.

“God, I wanna touch you so bad. Я хочу прикоснут��ся к этой сладкой киске (I want to touch that sweet pussy).” Peter’s impatience got the better of him, and he quickly gave in. He grasped his cock hard, wringing himself fast enough to make his balls bounce. Creasing his brows, he groaned, “Ohhh..What’re you tryna to do to me, babe? Talkin’ about how tight you are…Ебать…”

“But I ammmm.” You whined again, “I’m squeezing my tiny fingers so tight. It’s so soft and hot for you. Bet it’d feel really good if you stretched me. With your fingers, with your cock - fuck, Pietro. I just need you, baby.”

“Please, baby, oh, please? Wanna be inside you. Wanna feel you. I promise I won’t go too fast. Я обещаю (I promise).” Peter whimpered. But as you mewled again, another forceful wave of carnal heat crashed over Peter. In a quieter tone, he choked, “Нет, я могу. Я пойду так быстро (No, I can. I’ll go so fast).”

“Pietro, you can go as fast as you want, baby. I won’t stop you.” You pleaded, your broken voice so kittenish and wanton, “F-Fuck. I’m rubbing my clit. So sensitive. Thinking about you. Thinking about your mouth on me.”

“Ебать!!” Peter moaned through clenched teeth. His self control rapidly abandoned him. Speedily rutting his sore cock through the squeeze of his fist, his body refused to slow down, “Говоря о скорости (Speaking of speed)...” Peter craned his neck back, raising a hand to keep the handset to his ear, “You gotta stop makin’ all those cute noises, baby. Please…I can’t-”

As surges of horny pleasure circulated through his body, Peter thought of you again. He imagined you on your bed, caged under him between his arms. In his daydreams, he kissed you intimately, touching your pretty, naked body. Peter wanted to feel how wet you were for himself. And hell, the danger of pushing your friendship past its limits made you more tempting. Such a lewd, risky thought pushed him closer to the edge of something righteous.

“Baby, I wanna see you. Can I? Can I see you stroke that thick cock? Would you let me? Ohh, fuck, Pietro.” You whimpered. And your noises were so shamelessly lecherous, you could’ve made a pornstar blush, “Can I kiss it, please? Can I kiss your big cock?” You whimpered.

“О боже мой, пожалуйста (Oh my god, please)!” Peter choked, every word hitching in his throat, “Baby…babe, you can’t do this. Ya really can’t be-” He laughed lazily, his dark eyes falling half lidded. His cock throbbed, bright red and turning purple at the tip. He rutted in a speedy blur, “Stop. Stop. Stop. I’m gonna…babe, I’m gonna bust-” He slurred.

You squealed his name as loudly as your hushed voice would allow. And Peter swore he could hear the slick sound of your fingers. As they played with your pretty, little cunt.

“I’m gonna cum, baby. Please cum with me. Please? Pietro, OH~!”

“я кончаю, я кончаю (I’m cumming, I’m cumming)! ‘M Gonna-” Peter’s moans seeped through the receiver, his wet lips parting and mouth hanging open.

His swollen cock erupted in white-hot jets, coating his pecs and belly. With all his muscles tensed, Peter’s legs trembled. He rode out those lusty waves in tandem with you. The pleasure of orgasm sounded leagues more intense on your side. You took longer to cruise through it, whimpering and moaning Peter’s name. As you did, Peter basked in his momentary afterglow. Keeping the phone pressed to his ear, his head resting on the arm of the sofa; he listened to you with a smirk on his lips. At the end of your journey in ecstasy, your moans turned into flustered giggles.

Peter's thoughts reeled him in again. Imagining you, looking so sheepish and fine in his jacket. Now, he desperately wanted the real deal. To see you in all your post-nut glory. Mere seconds later, his sore cock pulsed to life again. As his hardness squirmed on his belly, Peter breathed another sigh.

On his end, you heard nothing but silence. You kept calling his name, your tired voice infused with anxiety.

“Uhm…Peter? Hey…are you there?” You asked.

And he didn't say a single word more.

#peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff #txt #im terrified this is like...not as decent as my usual but whatever !!

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beatrice-otter · 6 months ago

Note

Do you think it is possible for Pratchett to have not know what Gaiman was like? Genuine question. On the one hand, I know plenty of people who thought someone was a friend for years and then discovered they were an abuser in some way. On the other, with the news there was a whisper network and it wasn't just these two women, and I've seen people saying things like "pretty much any woman who met him was skeeved out within five minutes" and "I could tell just from watching interviews he was a creep, he had creep vibes" (though is that victim-blaming? since obviously the victims got into relationships with him and one was a fan and both took some time to realise how wrong his behaviour was, so clearly not every woman KNEW he was an abuser as soon as they met him), some people are suggesting it would be impossible for any friend of his not to know in this case...

I have no clue, because I didn't know either of them and while I read Pratchett's stuff, have never been a big fan of either Gaimain's stuff or Good Omens. So like. this is not something I have invested much time thinking about or reading about.

However, the thing about whisper networks is that by their very nature they don't reach everyone. That is the point of doing a whisper network instead of a PSA! People use whisper networks when they fear reprisals for saying things openly, which means they don't tell people they fear (rightly or not!) might react badly. Most people are never going to hear the whispers! And the higher up you are in the power structure, the less likely you are to hear them because people will fear you might side with the powerful figure being whispered about. A whisper network is quiet and targeted and intentionally doesn't tell people who don't need to know, and unintentionally misses people who do need to know. It's better than nothing, but not by much.

Why would anyone in the know tell Terry Pratchett? He was not a young woman that Gaiman would target! He was not vulnerable and didn't need to know to protect himself! And as a man and friend of Gaiman, he was less likely to believe the warning (because Gaiman would never treat him that way). There was nothing to be gained by whispering to Pratchett, and everything to lose if he had taken offense or told Gaiman or something, because then people could get in trouble for "smearing" Gaiman's reputation.

Also, there's layers of knowing. Pratchett may well have known something; for example, he probably noticed that Gaiman liked to flirt with pretty young women. But there's a big gap between that and knowing all the ways Gaiman would manipulate and coerce those young women after they started a relationship with him, and that's not something Pratchett probably knew much about. Especially because in 1992 Gaiman moved to the US and they never lived on the same continent after that. Even when they were collaborating to write Good Omens, they did their collaboration via phone, email, and fax, from what I've seen, rather than in person. So if they're "friends who meet up at conventions and go to dinner when they're in the same city" Pratchett had a lot less time to notice how Gaiman treated women.

As for "pretty much any woman who met him was skeeved out within five minutes" that is categorically not true. If it were, he would have a lot more victims and something would have come out earlier, maybe during the height of "Me, too." As for "I could tell just from watching interviews he was a creep, he had creep vibes" I have serious doubts. Whenever somebody famous is shown to be awful, people always rush to say they "always knew" or "everybody could tell" and then you go back and look at stuff those same people were saying right up to the point the truth became known, and it's pretty obvious they had no clue.

People say these things because they want them to be true. They want to believe they're smart enough and perceptive enough that they would never fall prey to something like this, because they would be able to tell, and they did know! ... except they didn't know, and they wouldn't know. And you're right, it turns into victim blaming really quickly.

#neil gaiman #terry pratchett

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1d1195 · 8 months ago

Text

Ding - Round 4

Read Ding here | ~4.7k words

Warnings: angst, fluff

From me: Sorry for the delay. Honestly, might be for the best. I know this is a little shorter but I think it will help spread out some of the plot points I have planned for parts 5 and part 6. I think it might be a little rush but I promise hope it will be worth it.

Summary: Cupcake wants a proper date. Harry wants a Cupcake for dessert.

Harry was fresh out of college when he took out a loan and bought the gym. It was a steal, an investment, and exactly what he wanted to do. He didn’t have a lot of staff—in fact, Harry taught a lot of classes, cleaned the showers and toilets as much as possible. He got Niall and Louis to help as well. Once he was settled a little more, he got his college roommate, Mitch and his girlfriend Sarah to help as well. His own little family. Niall managed it most of the time and while he still liked to teach classes and train with Louis, he hired a few more staff members (and honestly? Even though he hired a few custodians, he didn’t mind cleaning the bathroom every now and again). His family was his life and he tried to maintain a proper balance which required a certain number of employees.

But adding in the sweet girl that dinged his car threw him for a bit of a loop. A good loop.

Louis was insistent he focus more on his training. Any time not spent teaching classes or going over the paperwork in his office was spent training for his big fight. He was going to be boxing a guy from a few towns over; someone also undefeated. It was being publicized as their own state’s match of the century. Harry didn’t care truthfully about it. He just wanted to remain undefeated. Harry was competitive and he would rather never box again than lose his undefeated record. The added bonus of Driven getting more publicity wasn’t a bad part of the deal either.

Truthfully, the part where he might win $100,000 was also a bigger influence on him than he was willing to let on. The fame of the fight had sponsors and publicity, and more good stuff for him than he wanted to believe he could have.

Harry wanted to give his niece a substantial chunk of money to kickstart her college fund. But even still, he would have plenty to give her and then he would consider, finally, purchasing a house—which seemed silly because he nearly lived at Driven and if he wasn’t at Driven, he was at his mum’s...or Gemma’s with the baby.

But that pretty girl with an apron and sprinkles had him thinking about all kinds of future things. Like a house with a fence. A garden that they could have picnics in during the summer with a dog that needed to be walked two times a day but didn’t mind lounging with them among the flowers while they read. A massive kitchen where she would bake cupcakes for their little ones when they had birthday parties and—

No, he just wanted to win.

Maybe if he had lost at some point in his career he would have felt differently. But the “0” in the loss column made him cocky. He was good, and he knew it. Harry was smiling at his phone, a picture of his sweet niece smiling for the camera while he went over the bills for the current month. There was a knock right outside his office.

“Hey,” Niall smirked. “Your class is about to begin.” Harry was dreading it. They had chatted a lot more and gotten a lot closer than they previously were, but the class made him irrationally angry. Maybe it was the space and just knowing why she was there, that had him so grumpy. “Thought you would want to see her,” Niall murmured when he didn’t respond and also looked like someone pissed in his cereal.

He sighed, putting the bills into a folder for later. He thought about taking them home and dealing with them while he watched a show before bed. Since he’d been teaching her self-defense moves, he found himself riled and angrier than normal—especially after her class. It made it difficult to focus on bills and his calendar when she was there feeling unsafe. “Course I want t’see her,” he mumbled.

Harry stepped out of his office and headed to the room with Louis. She and Louis stood close together speaking quietly, like two old friends. She was smiling brightly, looking adorable as ever. Her T-shirt was bright blue. It said A Pinch of Sprinkles across the back and was littered with sprinkles like rain over the design. Louis caught Harry’s eye and then tilted his head toward him. She turned to face him. It was like a reflex and her smile was so bright, Harry couldn’t help but feel better than he did when Niall alerted him about the class. He felt all the anxiety and frustration leave his body and he headed over to her.

“Hey, Cupcake,” he put a hand on her arm gently giving it a friendly squeeze. “How was your day?” He asked.

She smiled in return. “Good, relaxing. I went to visit my dad.”

He thought so. He may or may not have spent his lunch hour being creepy and noted that her car wasn’t in the parking lot near A Pinch of Sprinkles. Nor was it there when he drove by in the morning on his way to the gym...and if he ran his four-mile cardio workout outside rather than on the treadmill to see her car still wasn’t there right around the four o’clock shift change then who would really know?

��S’nice,” he smiled. “How is he?” He asked.

She hesitated ever so slightly that if Harry wasn’t so focused on her, he might not have noticed. But before he could ask more about it, she simply nodded. “Good,” she offered. Harry needed to remember to circle back to that when they were alone. He wanted to know more about her family and why she seemed so guarded at times.

Which reminded him of what he really wanted to talk to her about. “Hey, Cupcake, would you want to—”

“Alright, let’s get started everybody!”

Harry was looking forward to “accidentally” punching Louis tomorrow during his training session. He sighed. “Stay a minute after class?” Harry asked and headed toward the front of the room.

“Since this is the second to last class, we always offer to have a bit of a celebratory send off the final class if you are interested,” Louis said knowingly. Harry was looking at the floor, then picked the lint off his pants. The grumpiness he felt with Niall returned rapidly. There seemed to be a long pause while the group decided if they wanted to celebrate next week. “Oh, thank God, love,” Louis sighed causing everyone to laugh. “You don’t want Harry or I baking for the masses.”

“I can make cupcakes,” she promised with a giggle.

Harry looked up realizing she was offering her kindness to a bunch of strangers, bonded through their own traumas and the need to feel empowered because of it. His lips curled into a smile. Even though he was still a bit frustrated. It was kind of her to offer. He wasn’t surprised. Someone that worked with sugar that much had to be sweet.

“Can you make the chocolate chip ones?” Someone asked.

“The blueberry lemon ones are my favorite, it’s a shame they’re a summer flavor.”

“I can...” she laughed lightly, and Harry felt so warmed by the sound; all the frustration he felt melting off him. “I can make a list before we leave.”

Harry truly thought there was no one sweeter.

It killed him she was in this class learning to protect herself. Especially now that he knew why. But as mad as it made him, he was so happy to see her. Having her in the class was just more time he got to look at her and note how beautiful she was. Her strength, her resilience, all these qualities he instantly admired as he got to know her more and more. That first night where she dented Clay seemed like ages ago, not months. He was wound around her finger, and he didn’t care.

They went through the moves they learned the weeks prior and discussed more scenarios. Harry had Louis help her more when she needed it. Frankly, it was too hard for him to do it without getting irrationally angry. “You want t’make sure you’re continuing t’practice these moves even after the lessons end,” Harry told the group as their time was ending for the night.

“So, we should be fighting our significant others over the dishes?” Someone called from the back of the room. It caused everyone to laugh once more, and Harry chuckled.

“No, not what I would suggest,” he snickered and even though there were at least fifteen other people in the room, Harry could pick out her giggle among everyone else’s.

“We’ve discussed a lot of reflexive moves and how a lot of the fight back instincts that take over don’t always help you get away,” Louis continued. Harry’s face returned to its neutral position. Although if she was asked, it was one of the sourest expressions she saw on him. But she was intently listening to Louis repeat the spiel once more. “Remember that’s your goal: to get away and find help as quickly as you can and as safely as you can.”

Harry didn’t dare look at her.

She stood next to Sarah’s desk taking down orders for their celebration the next week. It was a long list. Harry wasn’t a baker nor the owner of a bakery, but he knew that if they came to her store, it would have cost a pretty penny to sell all that was listed on her slip of paper.

“I can pay for it,” Harry offered coming to stand in front of her.

“Oh God, no. Don’t you dare,” she smiled and shook her head. “You’ve made all of us feel so safe and so empowered. It’s the least I can do—besides, it’s almost blueberry lemon season so I need to practice anyway,” her shrug was casual as she crossed out different parts of her list and added tallies to the other parts. “Maeve and I can handle it. I usually end up giving the leftovers to a homeless shelter anyway, or the nearby nursing home.”

Harry wondered if she was magic. Made of flour and sugar herself that was dipped into all her treats at that bakery and decorated with a pinch of sprinkles. There was simply no one as sweet as her. He was certain.

She watched as Harry’s eyes softened around the edges as she spoke. It felt warm and nice to look at Harry so intensely. He was so handsome and so kind to her. No one had made her feel so safe in ages. Not even Louis who propped her hands and feet into their proper positions and told her how to execute a stomp to someone’s instep.

“Cupcake, do you want to—”

“I’m sorry, Harry, one second,” she held her hand up toward him and turned her attention to a girl from their class. “Did you say Jack?” She asked.

Harry tilted his head curiously but watched as the recognition on the girl’s face blinked in surprise. “Uh...yeah?” She held her phone out to show a picture. Harry watched as her whole body stiffened and she glanced away. “Why?”

She bit the inside of her lip. “Look, I don’t want to prevent you from having a nice time, but he tried to force me back to his place. I would feel horribly guilty if I didn’t tell you. Maybe it was just a me thing. But I think I would like to know ahead of time. He’s why I’m here, taking lessons,” she looked at her pleadingly. “One girl to another,” she offered. “That’s all I want to say. I’ll mind my business now.”

The girl looked back and forth at her then the phone curiously. Her friend was silent.

Harry was shaking again. His hands clenched into fists. He saw the picture of him. He tried to place him in her bakery the other day and couldn’t identify where he was. Harry stalked off toward the back room without another word to her or the other ladies.

His focus was on making his way for the punching bag as quickly as he could to release the stress and anger he felt. He didn’t get to hear the rest of the conversation, nor did he want to. He hoped that girl took her advice and didn’t go out with him. It would serve that sorry excuse for a man right, and of course, most importantly, keep her safe. Harry would lose his mind if he found out he hurt someone else the way he hurt his sweet sprinkle girl.

His breath was a series of uneven pants. Not the regulated breathing he practiced while he trained with Louis. His emotions and frustrations clouded his head taking over instinctively. When he finally ran out of breath with one final punch he stopped, held the punching bag, and rested his forehead against it trying to relax his breathing.

Softly, she cleared her throat. Harry blinked, his eyes opened and turned to the sound. “Sorry,” she whispered. He steadied the swaying bag and looked at her, his eyes intense and as focused on her as ever. “I know you...” she sighed. “I had to tell her.”

He nodded. “I know.”

She paused awkwardly standing in the doorway. “I’m okay,” she offered. “Actually... I’ve learned at least five ways to incapacitate you to get to the front and tell Sarah to call 911,” she smiled weakly hoping it would make him smile.

It didn’t.

Biting the inside of her lip, she felt a wave of anxiety come over her. He was too mad right now. She should have just left. “Do you want the raspberry filled?” He continued to stare at her. Unspeaking, unmoving. Her heart felt sad that he didn’t want to talk to her any longer. “Um... okay... I guess... I’ll see you around, then, Harry.”

It felt like he was holding his breath until that moment and then released it as if all the air in his lungs had been there since the day, he met her and whooshed out of him for a good thirty seconds. “Cupcake,” he murmured running a hand over his face. She turned back, stood far away from him as she could without being in the other room. “I’ve been trying t’ask you on a date all night—well, for days really. And... s’jus’ not the right time—never the right time. We keep getting pulled into other conversations. Or training or your timers for cookies. Then m’mad or m’tired or—”

“Yes,” she whispered.

Harry stopped speaking. This time he thought he had stopped breathing altogether. “Yes, what?” He asked.

“I would love to go on a date with you,” she answered. Her cheeks were pink—he could see how flushed she was by the concept.

“You would?”

“I’m glad you’ve been doing the repeating lately,” she smiled.

“Are you sure, Cupcake?” He ignored her joke. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable; and I know I’ve been a lot... Plus your last—”

She closed the space between the two of them and pressed her lips to his cheek. He tasted like salt from the sweat that poured over him throughout the day. He was in desperate need of a shower. “I would really like to go out with you, Harry,” she repeated softly. “Whenever you want.”

Harry swore his heart skipped a beat. “Yeah?”

She nodded, still smiling. “I would really like that,” she promised. Harry sighed with relief.

“Tomorrow? I’d like to take you t’dinner,” he offered.

She nodded. “I would also like that,” it was the happiest she ever felt in her whole life.

The guilt of it was overwhelming.

“Good night, kitten,” he cooed softly.

“Night, Harry,” she headed for the door again. Harry watched, smiling after her as she turned in the doorway. She leaned against it, her hand pressed to the frame, and she tilted her head against it. “You’re going to kiss me, right? After our proper date?”

Her smile was so pretty, Harry felt light-headed. “I hope so, Cupcake.”

Harry did kiss her.

In fact, he kissed her so much they didn’t even have dinner at the restaurant. He could hardly stand how pretty she looked he couldn’t leave her doorway when she opened it. She had spent the better part of an hour fixing her hair into a perfect style rather than the stringy, rainy mess he saw the day he met her. Or the way her hair was almost always up and out of her face to deal with baked goods. She put on extra makeup too. She felt beautiful—but Harry’s reaction made her feel... gorgeous.

He put a hand over his heart and smiled, stepping back a pace to take in how beautiful she looked. She laughed at his dramatics. “Wow,” he tapped his hand over his heart. “I thought y’were beautiful with the apron and sprinkles.” She laughed; her pretty cheeks turned pink. He put his hand against the top of the doorframe and leaned in toward her. “M’not going t’make it through dinner, Cupcake,” he shook his head. “Can I kiss you now?” His eyes were soft.

“Now?” She whispered back.

He nodded his eyes focused on her lips. “Repeating again?”

“What about dinner?”

“I’ll take y’after.”

Honestly, she didn’t think there would be an after if they didn’t go now. Harry looked unbelievably good. He wore a pair of dress pants and she had only ever seen him in sweats and shorts. Those did things to her heart that she didn’t know the dress pants would do. His button down was tucked into his pants, and he looked like he was ready for an interview. He was so handsome.

“I’m pretty hungry now,” she told him, her eyes dancing flirtatiously.

“Me too,” he answered and leaned closer. His forehead rested against hers. She could feel the exhale of his breath against her skin. “May I kiss you, Cupcake?” He asked. She nodded breathlessly. He shook his head. Rested a hand on her waist and pulled her closer to him. “You have t’say it, kitten,” he encouraged softly. “M’not messing around with this,” he assured her. “I’ll give y’anything y’want, but y’have t’say it,” his voice was so gravelly and low she felt it in every inch of her nervous system. She shivered involuntarily and nodded again.

“Please kiss me,” she whispered so quietly he barely heard her.

But he did hear her. Harry would give her anything she wanted so he pressed his mouth over hers, and it felt like he was supposed to kiss her. The way her lips felt against his, the exhale of her breath against his skin. It all felt so perfect. His hands rested on her hips, and he tugged her closer to him, so she pressed snuggly against his body. Her hands came up to the sides of his neck, her fingertips curling to the back of his head and sliding into his hair.

“Your hair is so soft,” she whispered when they broke apart for air. Harry chuckled and kissed her again, his lips slotting between hers and he brought an arm around her back leaning toward her, so she tilted back just so slightly. “Can we go inside?” She whispered.

“Do you want me inside?” He asked against her lips.

She nodded quickly. “Very much.” Harry didn’t break from her lips to push her inside the doorway. She slipped out of her shoes; shoes Harry didn’t even get to look at because he was so distracted by how much he wanted to kiss her he couldn’t take in the rest of her and how pretty she looked. He took a moment now to note her dress, all black with some buttons and a tie sinched around her waist. It fell to just below her knee but left room through the slit for him to see part of her thigh.

She was stunning.

“God, Cupcake, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured went back to kissing her. His hands roamed over her waist making her insides turn to mush wherever he touched her. She shivered again letting her tongue run over his lower lip as he kissed her. He groaned into her mouth. Her hands held onto his belt loops, tugging him closer to her. She could feel the way their kiss was affecting him. It made her want more to feel his arousal.

“Can I...?” She swallowed pulling from his lips and her hand started for the front of his pants.

“Oh fuck,” he croaked.

“I...” she looked at him nervously. He made consent sound so sexy but she felt stupid for asking.

“Yes,” he nodded firmly. “Whatever y’want, Cupcake, m’all yours.”

For whatever reason she thought of Niall saying how Harry was whipped for her when they hardly knew each other. He called Harry her boyfriend and now she wanted to take his belt off and rip his pants off.

Was it too fast? She didn’t let Jack take her home and she knew him about as much as she knew Harry at the time. Was she overreacting? How could he ruin this moment even though...? How come—

“Cupcake?” Harry asked quickly. “Y’okay there, sweetheart?” He asked softly. She blinked in surprise, realizing she spaced out as her thoughts reeled. Harry was holding her face gently. “D’you want to stop?” His pants were unzipped and unbuttoned—she didn’t even realize she had done that. Her fingers tucked into his beltloops once more, ready to pull them down further. The Calvin Klein band poked out from his shirt and the shift of his pants falling lower on his hips. Harry was staring at her nervously. Her gaze was blank as she looked back at him; as if she was unsure of her own actions. “Kitten?” he repeated and removed his hands from her face. He tugged her fingers loose of his loops. “Can y’talk t’me please?” He asked, separating them a bit more. He pulled his pants back up, zipped and buttoned them. “You’re making me nervous, Cupcake...” he trailed off eyeing her uncertainly.

Her heart felt sad for him. He was so gentle, so nice, so careful. He steered her to the couch, putting space between the two of them. The only part of him that touched her was his knee bumping into hers. “Sorry,” she whispered, finally.

Relief rushed through him at the sound of her voice. “There’s nothing t’apologize for, Cupcake,” he promised reassuringly.

“But you’re—” Her eyes looked at the bulge against the zipper of his pants. He shrugged.

“S’not important.”

She disagreed strongly. That bulge nearly made her mouth water but as much as she needed her brain to focus on it, her mind had other ideas. “I just... need a minute,” she leaned back against the sofa and sighed. She stared at the ceiling, her hands covering her face. Harry was hot. He was so kind. His lips tasted like sunflower oil—perhaps it was his chapstick. He smelled so good and looked so good. It was unfair that someone from nearly a month ago could continue to ruin her date.

“You can have all the time in the world, Cupcake,” he continued to assure her so soothingly, it made her heart melt. “Did I do something—”

“No,” she shook her head and looked him straight in the eye. “You didn’t do anything,” she promised.

He sighed with relief and leaned back beside her and smiled. “Good,” he draped an arm along behind her head across the back of the couch and kissed her temple. “Take your time, Cupcake. M’not going anywhere.”

She swallowed hard, the lump in her throat trying to break her esophagus open wide. “He ruined it,” she whispered.

“Ruined what, sweetheart?” Harry’s voice was so soft. Like the way it felt to snuggle in bed on Christmas Eve when she was little. It was so comforting. It made her feel safe. She sniffled and turned her face away from where Harry was.

“Our first date.”

“No, he didn’t,” his voice was still soft, but the tone was firm. He was certain when she very much wasn’t.

“But I want to—”

“I know, Cupcake.”

“Don’t you want to?”

“Do I want t’have sex with the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met before we go to dinner?” He asked bluntly. “No, sounds like a terrible waste of m’time.”

She blushed, closed her eyes; still turned away from him. “I don’t know who this most ‘beautiful woman’ is you’re talking about. I just see a snively baby.”

He snorted. Gently he coaxed her to turn her around and look at him again. His expression was still gentle, and she was sure he wanted to be mad. She wondered what kind of self-control that took. Maybe it was the Oxytocin covering for him.

“Show me,” he murmured.

“Show you?” She repeated.

Harry smiled. “Practice.”

“Practice what—oh. Oh,” she looked at him in confusion. “You want me to practice my self-defense moves?”

“I like when y’repeat me,” his eyes were warm, smiley on their own.

“I’m wearing a dress.”

“Look, I could say m’dying t’know what’s under your dress if that will make y’feel better.”

“Harry!”

He pushed off the sofa and moved the coffee table toward the side of the room. He grabbed her hands pulling her up, so she was standing in front of him.

“Well, t’be really honest, Cupcake. You’re not going t’have much say in the matter of what you’re wearing if y’need t’use the moves,” he reminded her gently, he cupped the side of her face and looked into her eyes as if his life depended on it. She gulped in response. He was so intense. It made her forget every one of the moves she was supposed to practice. “C’mon, it’ll make you feel better...and me, honestly.”

“You?” She questioned.

He didn’t even comment that she repeated him. “Want t’know you’re safe, Cupcake,” he skimmed his thumb along her cheek. “Always.” She grabbed his hand against her cheek and smiled at him.

Then swiftly she pulled his arm behind his back and twisted it up. He chuckled peering at her over his shoulder. “Good. Again.”

After a while of practicing her moves, Harry ordered pizza. He took his jacket off and described a series of moves she could try that she hadn’t learned in the class. She took them seriously; the little pucker of her brow made her so adorable—Harry wanted to kiss her.

“Let me make brownies,” she offered heading to the kitchen and mixed the ingredients within minutes of opening her cabinets. It took maybe ten minutes and soon her place smelled like brownies. Once the pizza was delivered, she pulled out seltzers that Maeve left behind after a girls’ night in. She put on a reality show about baking that she watched two years ago when she was sick with the flu. “The cake challenge is my favorite part,” she told him.

Harry had his arm around her, her body slumped into his embrace, and she snuggled deeply against him. He was so happy to be curled up on the couch with her. It was like they had watched TV together for their whole lives. Had been spending date nights in for twenty years. It made him unbelievably at ease.

Eventually, without realizing, they fell asleep on the sofa. Harry woke up with a slight strain in his neck that he was certain Louis would be pissed about, but the sight of her sleeping beside him made him smile. He scooped her into his arms and carried her toward the bedroom. “Are you kidnapping me?” She yawned.

He chuckled, kissed her temple. “No, Cupcake. Putting you on the bed. Want you t’be comfortable. I’ll go back on the sofa.”

“You don’t want to sleep with me?” She pouted.

He chuckled. “I do,” he promised. “Do you want me to sleep with you?”

She nodded. “Do you have to work tomorrow?”

“No,” he shrugged. “Do you?”

She shook her head. “Do you want to stay here?”

“Always, Cupcake. Always.”

taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach

@straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals

@angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams

@summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland

@lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles

@tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr @crossyourpeter

@kissinthekitchen @kittenhere @stylesfever @indierockgirrl

@michellekstyles @just-another-reader1098 @hermionelove @tiredinwinter @whimsy-willows

@hannah9921 @fangirl7060

ding: @ell0ra-br3kk3r

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

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onlycrumbss · 1 year ago

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I wanna post some health and appearance tips because I seen someone else on my tumblr do it.

These are actually mind blowing tips that I’ve tried and tested, actually have science behind them, and make the overall process much easier, i may not have alot of followed and it’s pretty long but please read because these are actually some revolutionary tips like the type of tips that people gatekeep. But that’s not me

Some of these products might be expensive/out if the way I’m sorry, I’m 19 and live alone have been working full time since I was young. I don’t have tips for hiding anything though since I live alone and when I was at home my family never really cared anyways these are mainly tips on how to upkeep your looks while restricting so that way you can look healthy while getting skinny, but I do have some prouducts that will raise less suspicion for anyone who lives at home still.

✨ Tried and tested ✨

Hair~

Hair breaks when you’ve been restricting for a long time but these products have really helped and now I don’t have split ends. Their fine hair friendly as well, just remember shampoo your roots and only condition and oil your ends

Olaplex conditioner and the Olaplex hair oil

shea moisture Manuka honey and manfura oil intensive conditioner

Amika soulfood deep conditioner

Any shampoo with rosemary (makes your hair thicker and has been proven to be as effective as rogaine)

Tessa peays (you can find her on tiktok and YouTube) hair oil recipe and hair oil routine

Body care~

Skin gets really dry sooo

Olay body washes (literally any kind will work their so hydrating, they have a niacinimide one which works to brighten up your skin)

Any lotion with Vaseline in it (Vaseline will lock all moisture in and is the most effective humectant on the market. I don’t recommend using straight Vaseline Vaseline though because that will get all stick, just use a Vaseline brand lotion)

Body scrub once a week

Skincare~

Moisturizer. When your restricting you need to invest in a moisturizer, keep your skin hydrated

Sheet masks 1x a week. I like to use ones that are specifically food themed cuz in my head it’s giving my skin the nutrients I don’t wanna give to myself

My favorite kinds are: the tony Molly “I am-“ ones. Mediheal placenta sheet mask (my skin litterally glows after the placenta one) innisfree honey sleeping mask

I don’t recommend doing diy skincare but the only thing I will ever recommend along the lines of diy skincare is a honey and avacado face mask, makes my skin so hydrated and plump

Foods~

(Some of these might be a fear food for alot and can be a little calorie dense but they help with your appearance)

Berries: especially blueberries and strawberries (have highest antioxidants, which help your apperance)

Cherry and pomegranate juice (antioxidant thing I mentioned above)

Avacados and chia seeds (kinda high in calories I know! But they have lots of omegas and healthy fats and chia seeds are full of omegas and proteins, these will keep your skin dewy and keep your hair nice, chia seeds will also keep you feeling fuller for longer and are a natural laxative)

Eggs: protien+good for your hair

Health in general+ weight~

Quit nicotine. I know that nicotine is like a staple in our community and I myself and on my journey of trying to quitting smoking but after years it catches up to you, and it causes acne. If your not eating your body isn’t going to put that nutrients to upkeeping your face, I already have faint smokers lines around my lips. plus it makes working out easier

(If ur a girl/have female parts) you need to get a probiotic in and get regularly tested for bv and ye⭐️ast infections. You will be prone to bv and yeast “imbalances” while starving and they can cause a lot of problems from stomach bloating to lack of desire and pain and a lot of times are asymptomatic. This happened to me and caused alot of mental anguish because the pain made me question my gender identity and the bloating made the mental aspect of my e d worse and I didn’t even have any symptoms

Don’t use miralax, it’s really bad for you. Drink senna tea, it’s less suspicious and actually works faster and better than laxatives. Plus it doesn’t destroy your organs like miralax

Don’t use trendy diet pills. If your going to take anything get “Garcinia Cambodia” supplement and take it with an apple cider vinegar supplement. Get the acv pills instead of drinking actual acv becsuse it’s better on your teeth (have to be taken together, a study was done on this combination plus it’s been really helping me)

Fast instead of ⭐️ve: I’m not going to get too deep into the science of it all because I’m bad with my words and explaining but basically when your restricting I t’s actually more harmful to your metabolism, makes you crave more food and makes your hungrier making everything harder because that’s what actually puts your body into starvation mode is a constant input of extremely few calories. When your fasting your body goes into “modes” that are actually benifical to your body,metabolism, cravings and feelings of hunger. When you focus more on not eating anything for a long period of time (fasting) vs “I can only have x calories today so I’m gonna eat x and x and x” -(restricting), you’ll find it makes you not only loose weight faster but also make it feel easier

Which is why I see a lot of ppl on here say things like “I can fast so easily but restricting is so hard” well that’s because there’s literally a science to it. And a little secret, after you do general fasting a few days (not for days straight but more so one meal a day like 24 hour fasts and 16+odd hour fasts) it gets easy. It is litterallt so much easier than plain restricting

Take collegen supplements if it’s something your not afraid of because their very good for supple skin and also for hair as well recent studies and random experiments I’ve seen on YouTube have shown

Take biotin~ for your hair

Drink “sparkling ice” drinks. They 5 Cals and have vitamin B’s which are good for your metabolism

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I will be adding anytning I might’ve forgotten becayse I kinda rushed this because I rlly wanted to share all of these with everyone in the community after I got inspiration from the post I saw earlier. Feel free to comment or dm me any questions about the products and the sciences

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devilstruly · 8 months ago

Text

TRUE BEAUTY

pairing - kuroo tetsuro x gn. reader

includes - mutual pining, not really confessing but also not being very subtle about it either, late night talking, commenting on the plot of a kdrama. y/n mentioned once but i promise i had a good reason

a/n - this is mostly inspired by my internal monologue while watching the show, ergo the reader is rooting for seo-jun (i'm biased sorry). also reader is ticklish. i know it's another kuroo one i'm sorry but this man is so ugh

1.14 am

‘That's fucking adorable! Fuckkkk, why is he so cute! Oh my god!’

You found yourself snuggled into Kuroo's side comfortably, with his arm draped over the back of the couch and a blanket shared between the two of you.

‘What the fuck is cute about that?!’ He rolled his eyes at your reaction, his arm flailing around to emphasize his words.

‘He's making up rumors about them dating!’

‘Yeah because he likes her! He just doesn't know how to express his feelings, okay? He's traumatized.’

‘Everyone is traumatized, that's not an excuse. Plus, don't you always say it's best to be upfront about things?’

‘He is being upfront about it! She's just oblivious!’

'Like you would know.'

Kuroo turned his head to the side slightly so he could mumble a response, quietly enough so that you couldn't pick up on it.

‘What was that?’

‘Nothing. I just can't believe you're making excuses for that asshole.’

Hadn't it been for you being very deeply invested into the drama as well, you would definitely giggle at Kuroo's persistence.

But alas, that wasn't the case.

‘That's because he has a bike and good fashion sense.’

Kuroo huffed. ‘What's with you and bikes?’

While stating your answer, you shifted your position slightly so you'd be more comfortable, and in addition, almost naturally, Kuroo's arm wrapped around your shoulder to pull you closer.

‘They're cool.’ You replied with a grin, to which Kuroo huffed again. ‘Oh and, I like his eyes too. They're similar to yours.’

Not thinking much of your words, you continued to watch the show unfold, head resting on Kuroo's chest. You had almost forgotten about what you said, but Kuroo finally broke the silence after a while.

‘You like my eyes?’

Barely paying attention to the television, he now faced you fully, thankful to the darkness of the room for hiding his blush.

‘Hm? Oh yeah.’ As you finally acknowledged the proximity when you lifted your head, you could feel a blush of your own starting to creep up on your neck.

‘They're really pretty.’ You added after not being able to look away from the golden hues for god knows which time.

With a small smile you went back to your initial position, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself whilst Kuroo tried his best to process the newly received information.

2.01 am

‘No! No, you dumb fuck! Ugh!’

A loud groan echoed in the room before you covered your face with your hands in agony. Kuroo's hand was patting your back gently, though not very sincerely since he was wearing a satisfied expression as he watched the screen.

‘There there.’

‘Fuck off, you like this!’

With a huff you untangled yourself from Kuroo's limbs, scooting all the way to the other end of the couch.

‘I just think it works better!’ Kuroo himself raised his hands in defense, but his smile remained.

‘Bullshit! He is clearly the better option! He treats her so much better!’

‘But they're already dating and she loves her boyfriend. Besides, nothing's wrong with him either.’

‘No it's not, but Seo-jun is simply better.’

‘You're just biased because he has a bike.’

‘I'm not! I mean yeah that's a plus, but not that important! He even gave her the keys, come on!’

‘Oh so if it were you, you'd dump Soo-ho?’

You immediately recognized the sly undertone in Kuroo's voice and huffed whilst you turned to face him.

‘That's not what I'm saying. And she shouldn't dump him. She shouldn't be with him in the first place. Ugh, this is why relationships are dumb.’

This seemed to get the man's attention, and he readjusted his position on the couch, now barely looking at the TV.

‘You don't want a relationship?’ His tone became much softer than the previous question, which to you was a clear indicator that the conversation had suddenly become serious.

You chose to write the change off as the late hour delirium.

‘I mean…it's not that I don't want it, it's just like- not right now. I don't know. I mean if the person I like is - um - will be someone I can't imagine my life without, then I'd drop this…way of thinking.’

‘Oh.’

The one syllable Kuroo managed to get out had you turning your head towards him in confusion, only to be met with the sight of him mumbling something under his breath.

Opting not to point it out at the moment, you tried to distract him instead.

‘And you?’ His head shot up in an instant. ‘What's your take on relationships?’

Suddenly looking anywhere but you, Kuroo shifted uncomfortably in his seat, making you raise your eyebrows as a silent way of urging him to reply.

‘Uh…I don't- well- that's a lot of work that I don't have time for. But I think they're…great.’

He mentally cursed himself for his choice of words.

‘So…’ You began, a dangerously serious expression on your face. ‘...If you were to like someone that liked you back…what would you do?’

Patiently waiting for an answer, you hugged your knees to your chest and rested your cheek on top of them. Unable to formulate a reply, Kuroo blinked a couple of times before taking a deep breath and slowly letting the words leave his mouth.

‘I suppose…I would ask them out.’

‘Oh? Good to know.’ Your eyes widened in surprise, and a teasing smile graced your features before you turned your attention back towards the television.

On the contrary, Kuroo still sat frozen in place, eyes glued to your side profile.

‘Wh- what do you mean good to know?! For what?!’

‘Shhhh, I'm watching my husband.’

‘Nuh uh. Explain.’

Your attempts to distract your friend proved futile and with a frustrated sigh you defended yourself.

‘There's nothing to explain!’

‘Yes there is.’

‘Not.’

‘y/n.’

‘Tetsuro.’

‘Oh so we're on Tetsuro now?’

The sudden change in Kuroo's tone was drastic enough to cause you to tense, not turning to face him for the sake of saving youtself from a heart attack.

‘I- forget I said that.’ You blurted out once you finally mustered up the courage to look at him. As quickly as you said that you turned your head back around, failing to notice an idea flash across Kuroo's face.

Shuffling sounds reached your ears but you paid them no mind, until you felt a pair of hands tickling your sides. On instinct you squealed and flinched away, but with the man's quick reflexes it made no difference.

‘Wait wait- stop! Kuroo!’ You managed to get out between tears of laughter and uncontrollable shaking, much to Kuroo's entertainment.

‘I'll stop when you explain yourself.’ The smile on his face kept growing by each passing moment whilst your cries became louder.

‘I will! Just- stop- please!’ Your words were barely audible by this point, but Kuroo decided to be generous and simply flopped on top of you.

With his ear right above your heart, he could feel the rapid thumps and the heavy breathing whilst you tried to calm down.

It was once you finally managed to get your senses back that you became aware of your position, and so your heart rate remained quick as it was.

‘Kuroo?’

‘Hm?’

‘What are you doing?’

‘Me? Nothing ~’

Even though it was hard to see, you could practically feel the smile on his face growing. However, not minding the situation much, your hands threaded through his hair curiously and in return Kuroo became more at ease.

3.46 am

‘Kuroo.’

‘I'm sleeping.’

‘Then go to bed.’

‘Just one more episode.’

The drowsiness started enveloping him progressively, yet he made no effort to acknowledge it - and neither did you.

‘Fine.’

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!!#kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo testuro #kuroo tetsurou x y/n #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsurō #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo tetsuro fluff

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yayll · 2 months ago

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heyyy! I just read ur rockstar!Dazai fic and it honestly reminded me of this idea I had!!! (loved the fic btw!) Are you able to write an actor!dazai x fem!actor reader and they r fake dating while secretly being rivals ?? (I’d like 2 be known as 🦎-anon!)

hiiii 🦎 anon hehe

i'm sorry this was quite the wait, i LOVED your idea and i wanted to write it properly and i kind of took some liberties so i hope you enjoy it regardless? thank you for trusting me w your fic idea actor!dazai now haunts me actually dazai in any like, imagine just fucks my shit up that man is a menace in any story i put him in and i'm so glad others agree. i love u baby mwah u get so many ivy kisses

~ a little something about you and actor!Dazai keeping up appearances ~

"You're choking meee!"

"I'm just fixing your tie, Osamu-"

"It's babe, actually."

"It's whatever I want if you want me to keep holding your hand in public, jerk."

He pouts at this. What a cute little meanie you were! Always scolding him and spewing empty threats as if you were hot shit. You were hot shit, and that was only the beginning of his problems... The biggest one right now being backstage with you while attending the hottest awards show of the year.

Just before he can respond, the curtains are drawn and it's a stagehand whisking you two away to present the next award infront of thousands of fans. You're walking side by side, your heels clicking with each step when Dazai leans in to whisper something.

"You should stand on my left, my right side is more attractive."

"We're both facing forward, does it matter?"

He raises a brow and huffs dramatically in typical Dazai fashion. You two had been 'dating' for a year now, everyone was invested in this blooming romance ever since you both started in that drama together, now it's nothing but red hearts for you two.

It wasn't planned, it just kind of happened... It also wasn't completely awful, but it was the goddamn ego on Dazai that really made you want to strangle him sometimes. He knew he was pretty and desired, and what a threat you were with such an iconic streak in all of your latest projects. No wonder you two had to be paired together, on your own you were both dynamite. An unstable formula that needed to be stabilized by combining it together. Thanks to Dazai, you learned very quickly it could always get worse.

You present the award holding hands the entire time, an act highly encouraged by the need to convince, and yet when it's you two doing it it never feels as forced as you'd like it to be. There is a comfortability in the role of this relationship, you've come to realize yet supress. You'll hold hands for so long you begin to get clammy, and it's certainly not because he dotes on you almost every time he speaks! Which he hates doing... It's just a script, after all. Duh.

You're both making your way out of the venue towards the car that awaits to drive you to the after party when you're ambushed by interviewers and hundreds of flashes that yell out speed questions.

"Does the beautiful couple have time to stop and answer a few things for us tonight!"

Dazai loves that shit. Of course he has the time, he doesn't care if you don't. He has to sell it, obviously, since you don't put in the effort according to him. He flashes the interviewer that sardonic little smirk you hate and speaks innocently.

"Why, us? Sure! Right, honey?"

He turns to you and the crowd loves it. You hold back how badly you want to roll your eyes and simply smile, holding yourself high with grace and a ton of media training.

"We'd love to."

The interviewer is overjoyed as she looks between you and Dazai, taking in that affection that radiates from your false words. She grins as she goes along to ask her question.

"So, I think a lot of the fans are wondering..."

You and Dazai perk up, not even realizing that you're clutching the bottom of your dress so tighty that your knuckles are white. The interviewer looks directly at you.

"The two of you have been the most stunning couple the industry has seen in a while. Any plans for the future?"

You freeze. Ugh, not this again. You shake your head, smirking to yourself at the absurdity of the concept alone.

"Thank you, but honestly we're just taking things day by day. There's no rush between us, we have all we need right here and now."

The journalist smiles again and nods, seemingly impressed by your laid back attitude. Dazai snorts and suddenly interjects, clearly having a cheeky response to give to the crowd of journalists.

"We'll have tons of kids in the future, actually~"

Your panic is so instant that you literally laugh out loud, yet recover quickly by turning your shock into a playful glance at your lover. You manage a more sweet giggle and smack him on the chest a little harder than people would guess.

"Ooh, he's joking, of course."

The journalist rejoices, finding your banter and your overall interaction as a couple cute. The ideal power couple! Dazai grins and turns to you again, leaning in to tease you, his narrowed Hazelnut eyes piercing into you like a promise.

"Not joking. One day we're going to have a massive pack of little kids running around. And it's going to be your fault for being sooo cute~"

And with that, he leans in all the way into a million dollar kiss on your confused and parted lips. You're taken so offguard you almost fall back and of course grab onto him a little tighter... and run your fingers through his disheveled hair you forgot to nag him to cut... As the cameras go off like crazy, you wonder if it's worth ruining your public image for a while just so you can slap him harder than you ever have before.

Everyone's cooing and you're fuming, so you settle for a quick thank you and goodbye as you drag Dazai off the red carpet and into the car. He's giggling the entire time, of course. As soon as the door shuts out the screaming fans watching you drive off, you turn to Dazai and whisper ardently.

"What was that all about?! We didn't discuss this prior to-"

"... You liked it."

"Huh?"

"You liked it when I kissed you."

You scoff, though it sounds like you're choking.

"I did not. I just did what I had-"

"... And you want to have my babies. That's adorable, how devoted of you!"

You smack him on the arm but he's smiling like a cat who's had too much catnip, too far gone into his delusions to care about the repercussions. Love is love, after all...

"I think we should break up, like officially. You're nuts. The press won't let that go, Osamu."

He perks up, snapping out of his stasis and crinkles his nose in disapproval. He shakes his head, his hand on his chin as if in deep thought. Dazai mutters, barely above a whisper.

"... We won't actually break up, though."

"And why not?"

"Because in about 60 seconds we're going to kiss again and you'll be clinging onto me the entire night."

You snort into a laugh, tilting your head in disbelief. The car slowly comes to a halt as you arrive at the after party where a familiar roar of the crowd awaits to greet you once more. You begin your futile argument yet again.

"I don't see why I would do that."

At such a silly reply, Dazai softens his voice, looking at you like he first did when you both met on set a year ago. A lifetime ago. You're so cute when you're playing dumb. He shrugs, carefree.

"Neither do I, which is why I want to know too. I want to know what you're thinking about, if it's me."

You hate the way he sounds so sincere, like a real boyfriend would if he were trying to convince you you're just as into him as he is into you. Mind games is what it is, or at least you hope so. You really hope so.

You sigh, suddenly over the conversation as you open the car door to begin climbing out. Dazai follows suit and the roar of the crowd makes your chest feel tight as overstimulation takes over. You want to be anywhere but here and you wonder if you're having some sort of panic attack, but it just doesn't feel describable.

You turn wildly, disoriented by the camera flashes and instant fuss of the press, only to be faced by your one and only savior: the omnipotent Osamu Dazai. You don't know what it is about him in that moment, you just glide into his arms and complete the prophecy as you hook your arm with his, taking deep breaths as you finally ground yourself. It feels like the right kind of wrong, and you don't care to question it.

You feel a squeeze and a soft velvety voice whisper to you once again, you don't even have to look at him to know he's as smug as ever. But amongst the teasing, there's affection there too...

"So, am I?"

"Are you what, Osamu?"

"On your mind."

"At this point you're practically a permanent resident."

You hear him hum, a smile still present on his lips, the world simply frozen for him to continue his private conversation with you in public.

"Hmm, remind me to have you repeat that to me later."

This causes you to squeeze his arm back and murmur in genuine curiosity, finally daring to face him. He's already looking right at you, so devilish and angelic at the same time that you can't even look away.

"Why?"

"Because your time's up. 60 seconds, remember? Now come and kiss me already, the camera's are waiting~"

The photos of you two that night were the envy of couples everywhere. If only they knew how the ride back to the hotel went, it would be a scandal! Or simply the next step in your future?

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diminuel · 5 months ago

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In Stinky Child Au , how Crocodile lost his hand ?

He lost it to Whitebeard.

I know that for sure but I'm still not sure what his backstory with the guy is, that is, if they already knew each other by the time the clash happened.

I don't know if you want to hear my ideas already or if these would be spoilerish for comics or fic to come, so I'm just putting it under a read more. (Also, maybe I should invest in a Stinky Child AU tag X'D I also have a feeling I said some of the things I'm talking about here before but my blog is a mess.)

I think that while Crocodile still did Warlord duties not too long after Luffy was born, he hasn't really been on the Grand Line. Since Dragon involved Garp pretty early on, he kind of "claimed" Crocodile as "his" Warlord, to do missions on his bidding, which gives Crocodile a bit of a cover and a reason to be in the East Blue. (Sengoku allowed it, because it's easier than trying to fight with Garp, though I don't think he suspects there is a reason behind it.)

The first journey back out into the New World, maybe when Luffy's 2 and Ace is 5 (before Dragon picks up Sabo), was not supposed to be anything dangerous. Maybe a bit annoying to do it with "training wheels on" but he's not an idiot. He's got kids at home, he is not taking unnecessary risks. His aim is to gather intel for the RA and take out pirates along the way, usual stuff, a little bit of adventure, a little bit of danger, but not exceeding the levels that are just the New World's base line.

What I'm playing around with at the moment is that he happens to sail into one of Whitebeard's new territories - so new that the information has not reached him yet - and one of the pirate ships attacking him sail under WB's flag. So when he sinks that ship, WB is quick to retaliate. And even though Crocodile realizes his mistakes, gets on the phone to confirm, maybe even tries to fix it, one of his flaws is that he doesn't want to be a coward. He has already given up his plan to become pirate king to protect Luffy, but he's still a pirate, he's still powerful. So he fights but of course is defeated. Maybe not killed because WB miiiiiiight recognize him (as the scrawny kid he left behind?)

He has to beg for his life, admits that he has children that depend on him. And of course WB spares him, would have most likely also spared him if he didn't confess, but he does not spare him the patronizing remarks that people who are this weak and have people depending on them, should not be pirates. And whether he cuts off his hand during battle or as a "stay home" warning I don't know. During battle would be kind of less shitty, depends on how we are all feeling about WB ;3

So yes, he gets away, badly hurt and when he finally makes it home (ashamed, angry, doubting himself, in pain), there is a third child waiting for him?

#Anon #Diminuel replies #Stinky Child AU

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elementroar · 9 months ago

Text

So I have been thinking about why Slayer seems pretty invested in what happens with A.B.A and Paracelsus as a couple, and I think it's because he and Sharon actually share a lot of similarities with A.B.A and Paracelsus.

They’re consistently depicted as ‘couples’. A.B.A and Paracelsus as an actual in game battle couple, while Sharon is on the sidelines but is very much present with Slayer prefight, post-fight etc.

Slayer as a Nightwalker also hungers and gains power from blood similar to Paracelsus, tho whether he NEEDS blood to survive I’m unsure (I think Nago survived hibernation without drinking blood so that would be similar to Para who survived 20 years not drinking blood).

Slayer has been able to satiate his own hunger without hurting/killing other people because Sharon is deathless and is a willing endless supply of blood for him. Paracelsus was provided blood by A.B.A tho not directly her own blood (usually), but also, it’s implied her being a homunculus made her tough enough to survive longer than usual as Paracelsus’ wielder. Paracelsus got over his desire of blood by choice though, whereas Slayer simply has an easy endless source of it.

Because of the above point, Slayer is actually really friendly to everyone and peace-loving despite his overwhelming power. He was disappointed with young Paracelsus who he felt was a bore and waste of time for being focused on killing and violence. Afterwards, Paracelsus would recognize that Slayer only wants peace when they next meet while Slayer realized he was already suppressing his power. By STRIVE, Paracelsus has adopted a philosophy close to pacifism as he never actively wants to fight or transform anymore.

Slayer has been alive for a very long time (longer than most of the cast if not all of them, even That Man) and Sharon cannot die, so they are eternal lovers. Similarly, A.B.A has said her and Paracelsus’ “love is eternal”. As Para is a magical foci and A.B.A is likely to be immortal or at least extremely long lived, this may also be their fate where they cannot die naturally. Bit iffy on A.B.A since her hair is actually growing, but whether she ages at all is another thing.

And Slayer can be possessive of Sharon in almost the same exact scenarios and in the same ways as A.B.A:

Getting jealous of himself, getting jealous of other people eyeing Sharon, and believing in obsession being a form of love, which explains SO MUCH about why he was so helpful with helping A.B.A contact the right people to put Paracelsus in a body.

And Sharon goes bonkers jealous over Slayer too.

He's coming up in the next DLC (as long as ArcSys doesn't fake out everyone with the silhouette again) so I really hope we get him commenting on A.B.A and Paracelsus' progress, since that was what he was interested in 20 IRL years ago.

#slayer #a.b.a guilty gear #paracelsus guilty gear #guilty gear strive #sharon guilty gear #slayer guilty gear

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suzukiblu · 9 days ago

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I kind of want to try your method of posting wips a snippet at a time while writing them, but on the other hand I am nervous about it. Can you give me some advice?

I've been trying to nail down the mixed feelings, and this is what I've got so far:

for:

it will get eyes on my fics faster, and I can show off what I've written sooner, instead of needing to finish a whole chapter

it will encourage engagement both in reacting to specific posts and in asking for more

it will be more chances for people to be intrigued and want to read the whole fic

against:

what if I do it and nobody cares?

til now I've been releasing fics a chapter at a time and it would feel weird to change that. inertia and all

what do I do if/when I change something I've written and already posted a snippet of?

in direct response to your listed mixed feelings, in my personal experience of writing this way:

for:

it will get eyes on my fics faster, and I can show off what I've written sooner, instead of needing to finish a whole chapter: yes it will, and it feels great! and personally it also helps me keep momentum and helps soften the sting if I drop a fic/chapter later and people don't have much to say about it. I KNOW it's good, other people already told me they liked it!! no, I'm not gonna throw out the whole story because of one mediocre reception, SHUT UP IMPOSTER SYNDROME AND GET BACK IN THE WRITING TRENCHES.

it will encourage engagement both in reacting to specific posts and in asking for more: yes it does, and WAY more people consistently (and more gratifyingly!) engage with me since I've made a habit of posting this way, especially when they're especially interested in a specific WIP over my other ones, and a lot of people just seem to be more engaged and invested in my writing in general. or at least more willing to tell me that they are, if nothing else, haha.

it will be more chances for people to be intrigued and want to read the whole fic: yes it will, and if you post larger scenes and tag them, then more people are likelier to find you/your writing than would if you only post one chapter in the tags however often you update those. also, if you have a fic-specific WIP tag that you link to, it's very easy for people who are just discovering the WIP to go back and catch up all at once ( or for people who aren't into it to blacklist, if that's a concern, as opposed to them feeling like they have to unfollow/block you ).

against:

what if I do it and nobody cares? good news: they probably won't care! at least to start. that's just kinda how it is, to start. I get a lot of engagement because I am REAL prolific and do my best to be responsive, plus I've been updating this blog and in this specific fandom pretty consistently for over a year, and also have also been in online fandom spaces on and off for, like, legit twenty-five years at this point. so I am just very used to being in these spaces, and I also have readers who've followed me for a decade+ or even since I was an actual literal TEENAGER in at least a couple cases, so like, they're already kinda invested in my writing, haha. there are people following this blog who not only read my Inu-Yasha Miroku/Sesshoumaru fanfic back in the day in the Pit of Voles but also still REMEMBER reading my Inu-Yasha Miroku/Sesshoumaru fanfic back in the day in the Pit of Voles, to say nothing of everyone who found me through AtLA or the MCU or the Witcher ( or so, so much Star Wars meta, the Star Wars meta has also definitely been a thing ). also I update my blog pretty consistently and I do writing memes that reward the people who play with me with new content and more progress in their fave WIPs, and also they're technically "voting" for what they wanna see more of, so that also adds to them feeling engaged/invested and me feeling motivated/energized, because they feel like they've affected the growth and progress of the story ( which they have ) and I feel like they're enjoying the story and genuinely appreciate it ( which they do! ). so everyone wins!

til now I've been releasing fics a chapter at a time and it would feel weird to change that. inertia and all: yeah that is the sunk-cost fallacy trying to fuck you up and you can and should tell it to fuck off. if you try it and you don't like the change, you can just stop doing it. you're free! no one can stop you!! hit the bricks, do your thing, the past is gone and it is NOT in charge of your ass! your ass is all yours!! whatever, we do what we want! I am in fact giving you explicit PERMISSION to do what you want.

what do I do if/when I change something I've written and already posted a snippet of?: then you've changed something! if it's a major change, you can repost the updated scene or mention you're making a change in a separate post or just say there's been a significant change when you post the chapter and therefore people who've already read the WIP posts might wanna reread it, but personally I change and tweak and fiddle with stuff I've already posted all the time. usually it's just bits of phrasing or formatting or adding in little details to round stuff out or correct mistakes, or to clarify things that confused people or that I forgot about, but sometimes it's adding multiple paragraphs or even additional little scenes. it's absolutely a thing I do and a thing that I consider fair play. you're literally posting "work-in-progress" excerpts, it is in the NAME that stuff might/will change or be adjusted. shit, if you feel like it, throw the whole story out and start over with a 2.0 WIP tag!! art is meant to be fucked with!!!!

it feels weird to post them on my writing blog, which currently only holds finished chapters (and fanart), but if I post them on my main, I feel like they'll get lost and/or I'll miss reactions in my busy activity channel. Where should I post it to? Should I make yet another sideblog?: the past is gone! you are free!! it's a writing blog that is for your writing and you can write whatever you want on it. the rules are made up and the points don't matter!! if you want a WIP blog too, you can totally start a WIP blog too, but you also don't have to feel obligated to bloat your sideblog collection or to have to go to all the effort of building up a brand-new following for a brand-new blog when there's already people who followed another blog of yours specifically for your writing. it's your writing blog. it's for your writing. write on it how you please!! if you're SUPER-concerned about the change, include a specific tag on all your WIP snippets that people can just blacklist if they only wanna see your full finished updates. for example I use "rintalk" so people can skip my random talky posts/asks if they wanna but also won't accidentally be filtering out anything they DO wanna see from anyone else on their dash; they can specifically avoid just mine. so like, maybe "octo WIPs" or "nb WIPs" or just whatever you're into would work for you, or just something like that.

unrelated to your for/against: posting stuff like this is not an approach that'll give everyone the same results or even WORK for everyone, obviously, but it works for me because again, I'm prolific, responsive, tend to follow my readers' interests, and have been doing this a lonnnggggg time and have built up an audience both from past fandoms and in specifically DC fandom. and also I'm super, super ADHD. definitely also because of the ADHD. there is . . . there is just so much ADHD lol.

but yeah, like, I'm pretty sure I've been updating pretty consistently for the past . . . what, year or so of DC-hyperfixation? something like that?? I've also published over 300k to AO3 in that time and GOD knows how much more word count I've put up on Tumblr, so like . . . tl;dr, I absolutely think you should give it a try and see if it works for you/if you like it, I just also wanna include the caveat that you shouldn't be discouraged if you don't get an immediate return on or big response to said try. like, I dunno what your followers are like or how much they talk to you, obvi, but I personally had to kind of . . . cultivate, basically? I had to cultivate the communication and the back-and-forth, it didn't just happen immediately. we have cultivated, all of us here, hahaha.

for actual practical excerpt-posting advice, generally speaking, the best start I've found for starting out with posting a WIP as you write it is to take, like, the starting scene of the fic/chapter up until either a narratively-interesting/satisfying end point ( or better yet, a cliffhanger ) and post that as a WIP excerpt in the relevant tags. then you're likelier to introduce the story to new people and bring them by your blog to see more, and they'll come in both primed for and LOOKING for WIP excerpts. then, you know, you can post subsequent scenes or bits in chronological order, ideally. personally when I do WIP Wednesday or anything like that, I don't tag little posts like those in the main tags, just with a WIP tag specific to their story ( which, like, obvi you know I have those, haha, I know you've been around MORE than long enough and even if you hadn't pretty sure I already mentioned them somewhere up there anyway, I'm just being thorough ), but anything that's pushing 400-500 words or longer gets fully tagged with ships/characters/fandom/etc and gets chrono/non-chrono links included in the post and then sent out into the world as my lil' story ambassador, haha. just, you know, use a cut or at least a "long post" tag if it's much longer than that, because like, Tumblr manners and all, hah.

ummmmm . . . so yeah idk how much of that was helpful for you, obviously, but if you have follow-up questions or anything, feel free to hit me up, I'm always down for those and I'll do my best to answer!

#nonbinary-octopus #rintalk #rinquiry #long post

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