#an unavailable blonde man even

[maelgwyn]

My mans did a 360. He went in a Circle. 12 years of character development and we are back to square one, people. 😩

[yawnderu]

ANGEL — Simon Riley x Reader

cw: toxic situationship, emotionally unavailable Simon, age gap (reader is in her 20s, Simon is canonically in his late 30s).

wc: 2,027 | Part II

“Shh, shh.” Simon can feel his heartstrings being forcefully pulled, the image of you crying, tears spilling down your cheeks as you cling to him for dear life, your fingers gripping his black hoodie.

“S'okay. I can introduce you to some o' my mates.” The look of exasperation you shoot his way is enough to make him try to hold back his laughter, knowing it's not appropriate. Part of him feels bad, but the other part defends itself by telling him he warned you.

Simon Riley doesn't do love. He doesn't do feelings— he's a dog, too tainted and dirty for someone like you, too doomed. He doesn't deserve you, and yet he can't stop crawling back to you despite the heartbreak he sees in your pretty eyes the moment tells you he has to leave.

“I don't want 'em.” His attention is dragged back to you, the whiny tone making his gaze soften despite himself.

“Can you just... fuck me like you love me? I don't care if it's fake, I just...” Another choked sob escapes your lips, soft fingers tightening their hold on the fabric of his hoodie. Simon doesn't say anything— there's nothing he can say to make it better for you. The one condition to your situationship was broken, yet he couldn't find it in himself to abandon you, not when you look up at him like a lost, needy puppy.

“Y'can pretend it's love...” He offers, his tone lacking any mirth or empathy, not when his lips are busy going down your neck, trying his best not to leave any marks or be too rough with you, fighting his own nature for your sake.

His scarred, pink lips travel down your bare body with a gentleness meant to soften the blow of his emotional unavailability, trying his best to counter the heartbreak, secretly hoping that he can slowly mend your broken heart.

“I'll be nice to ya.” His hot breath hits your bare stomach, making your muscles tense up at the sensation, an unwilling shiver running up your spine at the tenderness of his words and actions, something he never showed you when he used to fuck you.

“Treat you like the proper angel y'are.” Simon's guilt is pushed to the back of his mind the moment his lips plant against your clothed mound, his calloused hand going up to your stomach to gently push you down the moment your back arches, wanting to keep you nice and still for him. To take care of your needs, for once.

Simon is a patient man. A patient man, who runs his warm, wet tongue over your clothed cunt, paying especial attention to your hardened clit, only making the knot in your stomach tighten by the second, fingers lacing on his short blond hair, pulling him closer. The display of pure neediness makes Simon's lips tilt up into a small, soft smile despite himself.

His hands explore your soft legs, squeezing softly every once in a while just to reassure you that he's still there. That he's not going away for once. He can feel your muscles twitch beneath his palm, almost mirroring his neglected, throbbing cock.

Simon's warm hands sneak to the back of your thighs, subtly feeling up your ass with the pads of his fingers, slowly sinking into the fat and muscle before he's pulling your legs up, soft kisses planted on your pretty inner thighs, even going as far as to give them gentle love bites, knowing you don't care if he leaves marks— not when your slick is seeping through the fabric of your panties, ready as ever.

“Needy fuckin' girl.” His touch is as gentle as it could be for someone whose hands are used to responding with violence and aggression, sneaking up to the waistband of your panties, pulling down enough to reveal your glistening cunt, not minding how the black cloth was left neglected, hanging on your ankle.

Just like a man starved, Simon's wet tongue darts out of his mouth to give a long, sensual lick against your folds, savoring the taste of your slickness. His rough hands grip your hips to steady you, no longer minding the way your back arches from the pure pleasure he's giving you. He takes a second to admire the sight in front of him, his hot breath fanning against your cunt.

“Good girl.” His skilled, hungry tongue delves between your folds, lapping at your wetness with a need that matches your own. He explores every single inch of your pussy, his tongue flickering and swirling over your hard, swollen clit. His free hand reaches up to fondle one of your tits, his fingers digging into the fat as he devours you.

Simon's hips rock softly against the mattress, looking for any sort of possible relief for his hard, throbbing cock, neglecting it until he can't handle it, hesitantly letting go of your sweet cunt, crawling on top of you and caging you in with his strong, muscular arms. Your soft hand goes to his tattooed arm out of pure muscle memory, earning you a small smirk back.

“You want it, angel? This fat fuckin' cock inside you?” His hips jerk involuntarily, a low groan escaping his lips as he feels the familiar heat pooling in his abdomen, his hand going down to his zipper out of habit, lowering it just enough to pull out his cock— until he realizes that he promised to make love to you, not to fuck.

With slight hesitation in his movements, Simon gets up from the bed, brown eyes watching your reaction with such focus you'd think he's a predator ready to pounce on its prey... and in a way, he is.

His chest rises and falls heavily as he starts to discard his clothes until he's completely bare and vulnerable, something he's never done before for anyone. The way your gaze softens as your eyes examine his scars almost makes him want to put his clothes back on— to leave and to never come back. Simon doesn't deserve your empathy, not when he keeps making you cry, yet he swallows his discomfort back down, his body resting on top of yours, lifting himself up with his arms.

“Y'always take me so well, don't you?” Simon teases in a whisper, his breath hot against your ear. The sound of your wetness mingling with his leaking tip fills the room, dragging a small whine out of you as he teases your entrance for a few seconds, his eyes on yours the moment he sinks into you, giving you time to get used to his thickness before starting to push in deeper, a low groan leaving his lips the moment he hits your sensitive, spongy cervix.

Simon leans down, his lips pressing against yours as he starts to thrust into your needy, sopping cunt, every single inch of him stretching you out like you were made for him. A small shiver runs down his spine when your hand goes up and down his back, caressing the scars from the torture he suffered at the hands of Roba. He pushes the bitter sensation away, putting his entire focus on the feeling of your tongue wrapping around his, tiny strings of saliva staining the corners of your soft lips.

He pulls you closer, his grip possessive yet still so gentle and tender, his touch becoming more intimate. Simon buries his face on the crook of your neck, open-mouthed kisses planted all over your soft, warm skin.

“Y'like this, princess?” He rolls his hips against yours, pushing himself as deep as possible into your pussy.

“Bet my mates could fuck you better.” Simon silences your protests with a quick kiss, thrusting faster into you just so you become willing to hear him out.

“Could treat ya better, too.” His forehead leans against yours, staring deep into the pleading look you're giving him, silently begging him to stop talking about it— to love you, begging for something he can't give you even if he were to force himself.

“My captain's a good man. Y'like older men, don't ya?” His breath is hot against your cheek, his eyes finally screwing shot as your cunt tightens around him at the mention of Price, a low, deep groan making its way out of his throat.

“'Course you do.” He says with a small chuckle, planting tender kisses all over your cheeks, feeling your breath against his face as more whiny, needy moans leave your lips, your velvety walls tightening around his hard cock.

Simon's back bends slightly as he rests his cheek against your chest, your fast-beating heart giving him a slight sense of comfort he's never found anywhere else. His thrusts grow more desperate— faster and deeper, feeling your tits vibrate with each loud moan you're letting out, pretty legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer.

“My pretty girl.” Even if he's just playing pretend, the words coming out of Simon's lips feel right, his thumb massaging your cheek while he admires you from beneath him, looking just like an angel. Part of Simon pities you, knowing that he'll never be able to love you back, but he can keep pretending for as long as you need.

The knot in your stomach starts to slowly come undone with every single thrust, feeling his meaty cock throb inside you. Your head leans back against the pillow, pretty eyes closing as you allow the illusion of love to set in— to imagine what it's like to be loved by someone like Simon, to get fucked like this daily, with such tenderness and care.

Simon can feel your walls gripping him harder, only encouraging him to slam his hips against yours the way he knows you love it, the upwards curve on his veiny cock allowing him to hit your spongy cervix over and over, low groans and loud pants escaping his lips. His grip tightens around your waist, fingers digging into the skin as he gets closer to the edge, his heavy balls tightening.

Simon lets out a shaky breath as you hold him closer to your sweaty body by the waist, the arch of your back allowing both of your hearts to be against the other's, both beating wildly with the heat of the moment. His face goes back to the crook of your neck as he lets out a loud, throaty moan as he spills his hot cum into you, riding out your orgasms, feeling your tight cunt grip him like vice.

He waits a few seconds before slowly pulling out of you, cupping your cheek just to have those pretty eyes look up at him with nothing but pure trust and love— so lovely, so pure, so untainted, unlike him. He lays down next to you, wrapping his burly arms around you and bringing your exhausted body against his, cuddling you up.

He plants gentle kisses all over your pretty face, basking in the afterglow of the intense love-making, admiring you like you're a piece of art... and truly, in Simon's eyes, you are. His phone vibrates against your bedside table, reaching out for it and letting out a small sigh at the message. Duty calls, and unfortunately, Simon can't get out of a deployment, even when part of his heart stays with you.

“My mates need me for a mission.” He says softly, planting one last kiss on your forehead before getting up from bed, putting his military-provided clothes back on. He stares at the sticky notes on your desk, giving you a small glance before leaning down and writing something on it, ripping the paper away from the rest and putting it down on your bedside table so you won't forget.

“'S my captain's number. Give 'im a call, yeah? He'll answer.” He promises, not daring to leave until you give him a small nod in confirmation, shooting you one last glance before leaving your room, the entrance door slamming shut soon after.

Your already teary eyes stare at the number written down on the sticky note, looking more enticing by the second.

John Price.

[goddessofvalyria]

My sweet sister | Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Summary: After the battle at Rook's Rest Aemond came home to his pregnant wife. Aegon is injured, and Aemond is now the prince regent. His sister-wife needs him but he's concentrate about the war. She feels unwanted so one night she decides to seduce him.

TW: 18+, MINORS DNI, SMUT, She/Her pronouns, pregnant sister-wife, face sitting, oral (f), fingering, sex.

English is not my first language, be kind <3

This is my Masterlist

Words: 2,7K

The night is still and quiet in King's Landing, but inside the Red Keep, tensions run as high as they ever have.

The aftermath of the battle at Rook's Rest has left the realm in disarray, the death of Rhaenys Targaryen echoing through the halls of the capital. Aegon lies grievously injured, barely clinging to life, leaving Aemond to take up the mantle of prince regent.

For days now, Aemond has been consumed by matters of war - the constant strategy meetings, messengers flooding in with reports, and the looming threat of more rebellion. His mind is singularly focused on the task of holding the Seven Kingdoms together. Though he returns to his chambers every night, he seems distant, emotionally unavailable, his sharp focus entirely elsewhere.

His sister-wife watches him from across their shared chambers, her delicate hand resting on her swollen belly. She is with child, yet her husband's thoughts remain miles away. She feels neglected, forgotten, as if the man who once cherished her has faded into nothing but a ghost. He barely touches her now, speaks to her only in curt tones about the war or their children, the cold mask of duty draped over him like a shroud.

Aemond sits near the fire, pouring over maps with a furrowed brow, his long silver hair falling into his face.

The firelight flickers, casting shadows across the sharp planes of his features, making him look even more unapproachable.

"Aemond" she begins softly, but he doesn't raise his head. She bites her lip, summoning her courage. Her voice trembles as she speaks again, louder this time.

"Aemond."

He finally looks up, his single violet eye flicking toward her. "What is it, my love? Is something wrong?" His tone is cool, though not unkind. It's simply detached, distant.

She hesitates for a moment, then shakes her head, her silvery blonde curls catching the light. "No, nothing's wrong" she says, though the knot of loneliness inside her tightens. She takes a step closer to him, her bare feet soundless on the cold stone floor.

Aemond sighs, his eye drifting back to his maps.

"Good. There is much to discuss, and I cannot afford any distractions."

The word cuts deeper than he realizes. She clenches her fists at her sides, feeling the sting of rejection. She knows he is under immense pressure, but his indifference toward her is unbearable. She is his wife — his sister, his lover, the mother of his children. Yet, he treats her as though she is no more than another obligation.

The princess makes a decision then, one that feels reckless, even scandalous. But she cannot bear this icy distance any longer. She needs her husband back, needs to remind him of what they once shared. Slowly, she begins to undo the ties of her gown, the pale green fabric slipping from her shoulders. Aemond doesn't notice at first, still focused on the maps, the war, the chaos that surrounds them.

When she lets the gown pool at her feet, leaving her in nothing but the thin shift beneath, she takes a breath, her heart racing. Her hands move to untie the last layer, and she steps closer to him.

"Aemond" she whispers, her voice husky with something unfamiliar to even herself.

He glances up again, his expression unreadable. His eye briefly flickers down to her form, though it seems to take him a moment to register what she's doing.

When it finally does, his brows furrow in confusion.

""My love...?" His voice trails off as she takes another step forward, the shift sliding from her body.

The firelight dances over her skin, casting a golden glow across her soft curves. She stands before him now, completely bare, unashamed, though her heart thunders in her chest. Aemond stares at her, his usual control faltering for the first time in days.

"What are you doing?" His voice is low, but there's a note of tension beneath it, a crack in his stoic demeanor.

She moves closer, her hips swaying with a deliberate slowness, her eyes never leaving his. "I've missed you" she murmurs, her hands reaching out to touch his shoulder, to feel the warmth of him beneath her fingertips. "You've been away, even when you're here. I need you, Aemond. I need my husband."

He inhales sharply as her hands glide over his chest, her touch light yet insistent. For the first time in what feels like an eternity, he truly sees her not as the pregnant sister-wife waiting patiently in the shadows, but as the woman he once desired fiercely, the woman he loved.

His eye darkens with something more primal as she slides onto his lap, straddling him, her hands moving to cradle his face. "I know you've been consumed by war" she whispers, her lips brushing against his ear. "But I'm still here. I need you, and I think you need me too."

He exhales a ragged breath, his hand coming up to grip her waist almost unconsciously. The maps scatter to the floor as she presses closer, her body warm and inviting against his. His restraint, the careful mask he wears so well, begins to crumble as he feels her softness against him.

"My love, my sweet sister..." His voice is strained, thick with the battle between duty and desire. "This isn't... you shouldn't..."

She silences him with a kiss, her lips soft but insistent against his. It's not a timid kiss; it's full of yearning, of need, of everything she's kept bottled up for weeks.

Aemond groans against her mouth, the weight of his responsibilities momentarily forgotten as he pulls her closer, his hands roaming over her back, her hips.

When they finally break apart, both of them are breathless. Aemond's eye searches hers, as though trying to find his bearings.

"You're right" he murmurs, his voice low and rough.

"I've been away for too long." He tightens his grip on her, his fingers digging into her skin. "But not tonight."

She smiles, her eyes shining with triumph and affection. She leans in to kiss him again, and this time, there is no hesitation from him. Aemond surrenders completely, his war forgotten for the night. He's no longer a prince regent or a soldier in the endless battle for the throne. For this moment, he is simply a man, lost in the arms of the woman he loves.

Aemond's eye darkens with raw desire as he pulls her closer, his lips brushing against hers, yet his control, once unshakable, has utterly crumbled in the face of her need and his own long-repressed hunger. He leans back, his hands gripping her hips firmly, guiding her as she straddles him. Their kiss deepens, his fingers moving over her skin with a new urgency, tracing the curve of her spine and thighs.

Aemond’s hand slides down between her thighs, finding her soaked pussy. "You're wet, sweet sister" he whispers, kissing her neck as she wrestles with his clothes and tears his shirt off. "Shh" Aemond whispers calmly, sliding two fingers into her soaking slit.

She begins to ride his fingers, her juices dripping from her pussy, wetting his pants and forming a stain on them. She clings to him, moving her hips eager for his fingers, but Aemond has other plans for her.

When she pulls back to catch her breath, he's already leaning forward again, trailing kisses down her neck, murmuring against her skin, "I've missed this... missed you."

Her breathing quickens as his lips move lower, his hands now exploring her body with purpose. He gently pushes her back onto the bed, his violet eye burning with something untamed, his restraint lost entirely to the desire that has simmered beneath the surface for far too long. His gaze rakes over her, admiring her, but it's more than that. It's worship.

"You've been so patient with me" Aemond murmurs, his voice a low rumble. "But tonight, it's only us. I want to make you feel... everything."

His sister-wife's breath catches as his words sink in, and she feels a shiver of anticipation course through her. She's never seen him like this, so unguarded, so intent on her pleasure. When he presses a kiss just below her navel, she gasps, her fingers threading through his hair, tugging slightly as his lips continue their descendant.

"Aemond..." she whispers, her voice trembling with need.

He looks up at her, his eye locking onto hers with a predatory glint. "I want you to sit on my face" he says quietly, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

She hesitates for only a second, unsure of what he means, but then his hands are guiding her, urging her gently to straddle his face. Her heart races at the unspoken promise in his gaze, and she lets herself give in, positioning herself above him.

Aemond's hands grip her hips, steadying her as he looks up at her, his expression fierce with desire. "Let go, my sweet sister" he whispers, and then his mouth is on her, his tongue moving with practiced precision against her most sensitive spot.

She cries out, her hands clutching the bed sheets as a wave of pleasure crashes over her. Aemond's tongue moves in slow, deliberate strokes, teasing and tasting, drawing out every moan, every gasp, his grip tightening on her hips as he pulls her closer. Helena feels her thighs trembling, her whole body alight with sensation, her head spinning as he lavishes attention on her.

"Oh, gods" she moans, her voice a breathless whimper, barely able to form coherent words. Her hips begin to move of their own accord, grinding against his mouth, and Aemond groans in response, the vibration sending another jolt of pleasure through her.

He doesn't stop, doesn't slow, his tongue moving faster now, more insistent, as one of his hands slides up her thigh. She gasps again when she feels his fingers slide inside her, slow at first, then curling upward, finding the perfect rhythm with his tongue. The combination of his mouth, his nose pressing on her clit and his fingers overwhelms her, driving her closer and closer to the edge.

"Aemond-" Her voice is breathless, trembling, and she can't hold on any longer. She feels the tension in her core snap, her body trembling as she comes undone above him, her cries echoing through the chamber.

Aemond doesn't let up, continuing his ministrations until her body is spent, shaking in the aftermath of her release.

He gently lowers her back onto the bed, his lips glistening, a satisfied smirk on his face as he watches her try to catch her breath.

"Was that good, my love?" he asks, his voice a deep, satisfied rumble.

Sh still reeling from the intensity of what just happened, nods weakly, her body still trembling.

"Gods, Aemond... yes."

But he isn't done yet.

He moves over her again, his hands sliding up her body as he kisses her deeply, and she tastes herself on his lips. There's an urgency in his kiss now, his need for her as strong as ever. His hard length presses against her thigh, and she feels a new wave of heat build within  her.

"Aemond, please" she breathes against his lips, her voice heavy with longing. "I need you."

He doesn't need to be told twice. Aemond slips off his trousers and pants, leaving him naked with a throbbing, wet, long, painful erection between his legs.

He positions himself between her legs, his eye locking onto hers as he slowly pushes into her. The feeling of him inside her, stretching her sweet, wet and soaked pussy, filling her, draws a soft moan from her lips. He moves slowly at first, letting her adjust to the feeling, but soon his pace quickens, his need for her overtaking him.

She wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, her fingers digging into his back as their bodies move together. Each thrust sends a surge of pleasure through her, and she feels herself spiraling toward the edge once again.

"Look at me" Aemond growls, his voice thick with lust.

His gaze burns into hers, intense, unrelenting. "I want to see you when you fall apart."

She holds his gaze, her breath coming in short gasps as she feels the pressure building again, higher and higher, until it finally shatters. She cries out his name as she tumbles over the edge, her body clenching around him, pulling him even deeper.

Aemond groans loudly, his pace faltering as he finds his own release, spilling into her with one final thrust.

He collapses onto her, his forehead resting against hers as they both struggle to catch their breath. 

For a long moment, there's only the sound of their breathing, their bodies still entangled. Aemond presses a soft kiss to her lips, his earlier intensity replaced by something gentler, more tender.

"I've missed you" he murmurs, his voice low but filled with affection.

She smiles, her hand sliding into his hair. "I've missed you too." She pauses, then adds softly,

"Promise me you won't leave me again."

Aemond looks down at her, his expression serious. "I swear it," he says, his hand cupping her face. "No more distance. I'll be here. Always."

Aemond lies beside her sister-wife, his body still pressed close to hers, both of them basking in the quiet aftersex of their reunion. Their breathing has slowed, the firelight casting a soft glow over the room, but the air between them now feels different - warmer, intimate in a way it hasn't been for months.

His hand moves tenderly to her belly, gently resting on the curve where their child grows, and for a moment, he is no longer the prince regent, no longer the warrior consumed by war and bloodshed. Here, he is only a husband and a father. He leans down slowly, his lips brushing the soft skin of her belly. The gesture is tender, reverent, as though he's touching something sacred. She watches him with a soft smile, her fingers running through his silver hair, and she feels her heart swell with affection for this man - the man who, despite everything, is hers.

Aemond kisses her belly again, more firmly this time, his eye softening as he presses his lips against the place where their child stirs within her. He lingers there, his breath warm against her skin, before speaking in a low, gentle voice, a voice he uses with no one else but her.

"My little dragon" he murmurs softly, his hand caressing her rounded stomach. "Your father is here, and I will protect you... both of you."

Her violet eyes glisten as she watches him, her heart full. There's a vulnerability in him now, something he doesn't show to anyone else, but with her, he lets the mask fall. He presses another kiss to her belly, his fingers tracing small, soothing circles.

"You will be strong" he continues, his voice filled with quiet determination. "Born into a world of fire and blood, but you will never want for love." He looks up at her sweet sister-wife, his gaze soft but unwavering. "I will make sure of it."

She smiles, her hand still cradling his head, her thumb brushing over his cheek. "Our little dragon is lucky to have you" she whispers, her voice thick with emotion.

Aemond closes his eye for a moment, letting himself feel the warmth of her words. Then, he kisses her belly once more, lingering there as if speaking directly to the life growing within her.

Her heart swells as she watches him, her hand still resting on his head, feeling the weight of his love for both her and their unborn child. For a brief moment, the chaos of the world outside fades away, leaving only the three of them - their small family, bound together in love and shared destiny.

Aemond looks up at her again, his expression softened by the love he can never fully express with words alone.

"'ll protect you both," he vows once more, his voice firm yet tender. "No matter what."

[zlebooks]

𓂃 alhaitham + congrats being the first/last person to know!

you finally confess to kaveh that you have feelings for his flatmate, only you forget to tell him one key information.

when you realized you like al haitham, the experience was ironically similar to waking up on any day.

there were no fireworks that erupted, no scoffs of unbelief from yourself, no “kiss me” by sixpence none the richer playing in the background. there was only kaveh— al haitham’s flatmate ridiculing you in the background.

it was a saturday morning and you chose to spend it on a little quaint coffee shop in downtown brooklyn with your best friend, kaveh. he was your common link to the brooding man, the one who had introduced the both of you to each other.

and as kaveh rambled on and on about his co-worker that has been driving him nuts, you suddenly blurt out something you haven’t thought of much.

“i like al haitham,”

you see your best friend drop everything he was doing— literally. his knife clangs on the porcelain plate as he stops his rant midway.

really, it was more of his moment than yours.

“congrats dearest, you were the last one to know!” he chirps happily, before picking up the bread knife he dropped a moment ago and resumes spreading butter to his bread.

your jaw drops dramatically as if your best friend had just insulted your entire family clan.

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“exactly what it means.” the blond deadpans as if anything he uttered under the twenty minutes you’re together has been helpful with your situation.

“fuck you.”

“i thought you liked al haitham?”

“fuck you, fuck you.”

“sorry, i’m unavailable.”

“do i really look like i have a crush on him?” you say under your breath, looking around like you were relaying top secret information.

“even the most socially inept would notice.”

the café doors open as signalled by the bell ringing. you would have pay no attention to it if it were any other of the regulars that kept this place running, but as you catch a glimpse of an ashy grey hair, you immediately duck your head under the table in hopes of making yourself unnoticeable.

“what the fuck are you doing—“

“hello.”

kaveh finds himself interrupted by the very man he finds insufferable and with how his luck is, the same guy whom his best friend is currently crushing on.

the man standing eyes your form— at least what’s visible of it above the table, before raising his eyebrows on the blond. your friend shrugs, opting to stay out of this because even he didn’t have any explanation for how you’re behaving.

“what are you doing?” you hear the scholar’s voice from above.

the blond snorts, “finding their leftover dignity, probably.”

in an attempt to retort something— anything, you raise your head up quickly to look at kaveh’s eyes and cuss him out, but you should have known better than to carelessly throw your head in any direction as you feel your head slam against the table.

ouch.

al haitham hears you whimper although it sounded more of a strangled attempt at breathing as you immediately cut it short. out of concern, he kneels down beside you and oh god— he’s caressing the top of your head in an attempt to sooth it. he asks you a simple question, a really simple one that can be answered with a simple yes or no, and yet your heart quivers.

“are you okay?”

you finally look up from the floor and see that al haitham is still charming.

and kaveh, kaveh was still a dick.

“you know, with how hard headed they are, it would be more appropriate to ask how the table is faring instead.”

you feel the turquoise eyed man glare at your best friend.

suddenly, you feel a sudden shift in your weight. looking around, you notice how al haitham is leading you to get on your feet only he was doing all the heavy work— he’s literally bringing you up.

“what were you doing down there?”

the still concerned scholar asks, to which you wince at as you take your seat once more. you try to rack up your mind for a totally false reason, but the task proves itself to be difficult when a small bump is starting to form on your head. you feel like your encounter with the table has made your brain shake inside your skull and ended up in a very wrong position.

thankfully, your best friend answers the question himself.

“y/n, my dearest friend over here, has realized that they like you. and although that sounds like an incredible disaster, i’m still glad to say that the pining is over.”

or not.

for someone having a small mouth, kaveh pretty sure talks a lot. but then again, with kaveh, he had absolutely no filter for his lips, always airing out private business to anyone and everyone.

kaveh, strangely enough, receives a look of nonchalance from the taller man. this wasn’t the reaction he was trying to get— he was expecting for his roommate to suddenly malfunction. like completely speechless, or stammering at least, red as a tomato and stiff as a plywood kind of malfunction. instead, he receives the usual unamused look from the other that he usually dons.

“of course y/n would; it’d be troublesome otherwise. we are seeing each other romantically, of course.”

your newly revealed boyfriend responds curtly, keeping his reply clear and concise. it was kaveh who eventually malfunctioned.

“you two are what?!”

“dating, yes.”

“how— when— why—“

“i confessed, they felt the same way so i asked them out. it happened before winter break, and why not? we like each other.” the taller man responds for you.

“no! i mean, what was your deal earlier?” the blond explains, pointing at you accusingly as if you had eaten the last remaining cupcake on the plate.

“why’d you make it seem like you were only realising now that you like al haitham?!”

you grin shyly, “it was me trying to see if you’d notice… we meant to keep it under the wraps for a while and you were kind of a test subject?”

kaveh feels his jaw detach. yeah sure you were a stem student and all, but weren’t you taking your research too far?

“i hate the both of you.”

your boyfriend shrugs while you laugh sheepishly.

“if it makes you feel better, you’re the first one to know… congrats?”

“it doesn’t at all! forget it!”

♥︎ please do not repost or translate without my permission . reblogs are heavily appreciated!

[callingmelili]

A deal.

So I am currently in a virtual class and I should probably be paying attention. I'm sure my teacher would not be impressed by me writing this when I'm supposed to be taking notes, but of course this would be the moment for the horny muse to come back. I may have a second part thought out too.

My set up is the usual, full-body mirror, one of those light rings I used to make fun of other girls from having, mat on the floor in case the gif he sends requires me to kneel. Mark's contact winks at me from the messaging app on my phone, online and writing. His messages always come between seven and ten pm, never at the same time, the bastard has been taking up this window of time every Friday for the last three months.

This time around, the message comes early.

It's only a gif, but it's the worst one so far. A girl kneeling on the floor in knee socks, hair in pigtails , tits bouncing inside a lace bralette as she bounces on a dildo stuck to the floor. A text comes in right after. 'You have 20 minutes, Mia.'

I sigh and head for my dresser, this is the first time one of Mark's gifs goes that far. But do i have another choice? I don't. He is not my boyfriend, he is not a man I can say not to, even if he didn't have a bunch of humiliating videos of me --if he made them public, he'd be shooting himself in the foot anyways, I have proof that he's the only person I've sent them to-- he has something worse… for now.

He and I have a deal. No, really. We do.

Honestly, when he first caught me cheating on a test, I thought I was done for. He was my advisor at the moment, able to report me without breaking a sweat. I never have been a particularly good student and I would have been done for.

I didn't make it this far into graduate school without being decently stubborn, though and I grasped at the one straw still within my reach. I would laugh at how cliche it is if it wasn't my life right now.

Obviously I told him to ask anything of me. I had seen how he looked at me during our one-on-one thesis, I was fully expecting to be asked to get on my knees and blow him, I was also more than prepared to do it if it spared me expulsion.

What he asked for was… a step further.

But I really had no other choice. It was either do this until the end of the semester or face being exposed and expulsed.  So far he has only asked me to emulate the gifs, nitpicking only rarely. I had to do a couple repeat performances  of the fourth gift he sent me of a blonde girl deepthroating a dildo. He kept saying it was not 'far enough' and my face was not 'red enough', pouting, I scroll up to glare at the finished product of that particular exchange. My eyes are watering and my cheeks are flaming red. Brown hair frames my face as I furiously work the dildo in and out of my mouth. It takes me a while to look away.

"I better get this over with," I say to no one in particular before turning up the light and leaving the camera on standby.

Sighing, I get my hair into the pigtails first before getting the dildo with the suction cup out from it's usual place in a box under my underwear. I have no bralette's that look just like the girl's so I end up wearing the top of a swimsuit instead. The socks I do have a pair of similar ones, only in baby blue rather than pink. Mark usually doesn’t mind small changes due to unavailability of certain items in my apartment, and anyways it shows about the same amount of skin.

"And now as for the pose…" The mat has to go so the dildo can stick to the floor and I can feel the skin of my knees protest as soon as I lower myself over it. The silicone meets slick, oversensitive flesh and I am torn between feeling shame or being relieved that I don't have to warm myself up for it.  My thighs are already shaking, skin prickling at the cold of the floor and how a hear seems to have settled deep within my pelvis.

As if on cue, my phone buzzes with a message, then another and another.

'5 minutes left, Mia.'

'Tic, toc.'

Drawing in a shaky breath I reach forward and turn the camera on. It's set up to stream only to him. Sometimes he will return the favor, I found it gross at first but it's even stranger to do all these things while only hearing his voice coming from my computer speakers. "You could be trying more with the top." He laughs, speak of the devil. Tonight he wants to keep his face hidden it seems, it doesn’t show up in the computer screen.

"Just why would you think I would have that sort of underwear?" I hiss.

I can imagine him shrugging. "You're the type that's usually prepared? Anyhow, I don't like it, just take it off."

"But--"

"Take it off, you're bare-cunted already. What's the damage with me seeing your nipples?"

My thighs shake. "Fine." The bra is the tie-up kind, two swift pulls and it's falling off my tits, leaving my nipples to stand in response to the cold air in the room. "Damn, you could do a better job pretending you don't like this. I can see how wet your cunt is from here."

I roll my eyes at the camera. "I like to be prepared, as you said." I lick my lips, glancing at the mirror. "Lets just get this over with."

"Aye," he laughs, "Well, first off, sit down baby. Aren't your knees getting tired?"

Of course, he means sit down on the dildo I am hovering over. I do so, slowly. Wet as I am, the intrusion stretches me beyond what I'm prepared for, making the descent a little shaky and making me moan. "That's a nice face," mark comments.

"Fuck-- Fuck you." I say, glaring at the camera.

"Of course you wish it was me baby." I can imagine him grinning. "Alas, you're gonna have to do the work there. I believe the girl on the gif has her legs spread out wider."  I shiver, but do as told. I can feel the tip of the dildo pressing up into my cervix.  "No, wider." I whine. "Wait, no, that's too wide, go back."

The inside of my thighs is wet already, moving on the dildo proves easier than it should. "Good?" I ask, between forced breaths.

"Hmm, good. But stick your ass out more." I do, and the tip of the dildo brushes something that makes me lose my balance and cry out. "Ha! Well, that isn't quite it but do stay there." He laughs, again. "Now, start bouncing."

If I could I'd sag with relief, but all I can do is bounce and hope he's satisfied soon.

Five minutes later I can't believe how wrong I was. "Nope, stop!" He calls, like he's directing a porno and I guess he is. I can't help the protesting jerk of my hips when he does. "Get off on this later, will you?" He huffs. "Cross your eyes more, Mia, and stay still for a second." Time stretches, silent for far more than a second. "Ok, now."

It's the second time he does it, and there are a third and a fourth. I'm not dripping on only the dildo now, but also the floor. He doesn't care, I'm sure enough now that he's somehow learned to see when I'm close and he always stops me at that point before pleasure becomes pure heat. "Isn't that enough?" I pant after the latest interruption.

"No, again. Push your chest out, show the girls off, will you?" His voice is lower now than it ever is in class and I'm so tired by now, knees aching and core throbbing that I just mindlessly obey, eyes crossing, hips slamming down  once, twice, three times. This time he doesn’t stop talking, but none of his words urge me to stop or slow down this time. Rather, Mike encourages me. I can't say he compliments me but it's all the same to my foggy mind. "That's it Mia. That's it little whore. The tongue is a nice detail but you're going to have to repeat this performance just for that." He laughs. "No, don't stop on my account, you're too far gone. I thought you weren't getting off on this? My little, pathetic Mia, don't think I haven't noticed just how you get all the other times." It's only his voice filling the room, only his voice and the sound of my ass slapping into the floor, losing rhythm as I come closer and closer, slumping forward and losing form. I know he'll make me repeat it now, I don't care, I just want to cum. "That's right, that's all you want isn't it? Not even to be free from our little deal, you'd sell yourself out for an orgasm, wouldn't you? Well go ahead."

I just want to cum, and I do.

Afterwards, I'm slumped forward, dildo still halfway inside me as I catch my breath. That's when I hear the tell-tale sound of the lock on the front door, and then a familiar voice, coming from both the living room and my computer. "By the way Mia I forgot to tell you I'd be dropping by to drop some material for your thesis off." Mark laughs, it echoes off the walls. "I also wanted to talk about a couple of things. Stay right where you are and maybe I'll be nice and give you a passing grade on this little recreation of ours, even though you didn't get it quite right."

[yngtort]

— fucking friends

chan | lino | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin

NSFW ★

──────────

Xfem!reader : in which felix can’t stand watching you be all clingy with another man, even though you’re just friends.

You and felix are fuck buddies. casual lovers if you wanna be polite about it.

But that was it, that’s all.

Just friends who fucked because you’re too lonely to be alone, but too emotionally unavailable to be in a relationship.

You knew it and so did Felix.

So why did seeing you at a party, wrapped up around hyunjin bother him so much?

He couldn’t be jealous, there was no way. You both very clearly established that this was strictly platonic, no emotional ties to one another. Felix had even boasted about he could never fall in love with you— “me? Like you?” He laughed in your face.

This wasn’t jealousy, he just didn’t like the fact that you’re fucking around— while y’all was fucking around. Although, you both never said that this an exclusive thing. And it surely wasn’t a problem when Felix was laid up with a couple models a month ago.

So what was his problem? He couldn’t figure it out.

But he hated the way you pressed yourself against hyunjins side, letting him hold and massage your waist— or when you stood on your tippy toes to whisper in his ear. Something slutty too, he can tell by the look in your eyes.

He didn’t understand why, but every bone in his body was aching to rip you away from that blonde motherfucker, find the nearest wall, and—

“Oi, earth to Felix.” Chris waved his hands in front of his face. “Were you even listening to me? Hello? anybody home??”

“Yeah, yeah.” Felix barely replied, nor spared Chris a glance.

The older turned his head, trying to figure out what was so important— until he saw it. you and hyunjin, faces so close that y’all could practically kiss at any moment. Chris whipped his head back to Felix, a knowing smirk on his lips.

“Yknow if you keep looking at her like that she might explode.”

Felix scoffed, “I was not looking at her.”

“Uh huh, sure” Chris snickered, giving his shoulder a strong pat. not only did he know about you and Felix’s sexcapades, but he also knew about the raging love boner he had for you. Too bad felix was too blind to see it for himself.

“So you’re just gonna let em steal your girl?” He asked, chucking a thumb back at the two in question.

“She’s not my girl.” Felix said through a sigh, “she’s just y/n.”

“Yeah, y/n that you fuck and feed every other day.”

Felix rolled his eyes, “whatever.”

-

As the party progressed, you and hyunjin just kept getting closer and closer. It was hell for Felix to witness— especially now since you’re all gathered at a table, playing an intense game of beer pong.

Felix had a clear view, watching with a bitter look as hyun stayed behind you. His hands rested at your hips while you slightly sway to the music playing in the background.

“Your turn, lix.” Chris said, passing the ball to him.

He just tossed it. He really couldn’t care less if it made it in or not, that wasn’t his priority. But if you, my dear reader, want to know— the ball bounced right off the edge of the cup.

“Chug, chug, chug” the table chanted as Felix downed the alcohol.

When the cup leaves his lips, his eyes catches your doey ones. It was only for a moment but there was that glint in your irises. One that meant you were up to no good. No telling what it was though.

a couple more rounds and each team was drunk, you visibly being the most intoxicated than everyone.

“This is my song!” You gushed, “cmon, let’s go dance.” Hyunjin followed you to the floor with no hesitation.

Felix Hated every second of this damn song. Not because it sucked, no- the lyrics are great. it was because he’s fucked you plenty of times to it. The song had silently became something sacred to the both of you. And now you’re bumping and grinding against hyunjin to it. what the fuck is your problem, Felix wondered.

when the tune switched, the ravenette expected you to come back to the table, but no. Instead you stood on the tips of your toes and whispered something into hyunjins ears. There you go again, being the slut that you are.

He watched as the olders eyebrows raised before flashing a dangerous grin. Hyunjin slid his hand into yours and pulled you off somewhere.

Somewhere probably with less people.

Somewhere dark.

Somewhere where he could touch you.

“Fuck.” Felix cursed, crushing the cup in his hands.

Chris eyed the younger and was about to ask what was wrong, but before he could— Felix was storming off behind you.

It was hard to keep up through the crowd of people. He lost you a couple times, but he caught the shadow of you disappearing into one the halls.

Felix rounded the corner sharply, too sharp. He almost smacked into to you completely, had it not been for the hand you held out to keep him from doing so.

“Y/n? I thought-“ his words got caught in his throat. “Where’s hyunjin?”

Felix watches the corners of your lips tug up smugly. “why?” You inquired, tilting your head to the side.

“I saw you run off with him.” He said.

“Yea, I did.” You comfirmed, fixing the collar of his shirt. You’re so close— he loved the smell of your perfume. “but that doesn’t concern you, does it ?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Oh but it is, lix.” She patted his shoulder. “I saw how you were looking at me all night.”

“I wasn’t.” “You were.”

Felix pressed his lips into a line. There was no point of arguing about it. “So, what? What’s wrong with that?”

You’re stepped back with a small chuckle, “nothing. It’s just fun seeing you jealous.”

His jaw clenched.

“I’m not jealous.”

“Yet followed me all the way here.” You tapped your cheek, lips pouted— you’re so sarcastic. Fuck.

“Well, if you’re not here for me then I better go find hyun.” You said before turning on your heels.

It only took a few seconds before you heard his steps right behind you. the wind was knocked out of your chest as he pushed you against the wall. You hissed, “felix-“

“Shut it, slut.” He growled, hands hungrily roaming under your skirt. His head dipped into your neck so he can bite and suck on your supple skin til it turned dark.

He ignored how you whimpered in pain, hands desperately gripping onto his leather jacket. You deserved it for acting like a bitch in heat. wrapping yourself around his friends like that— damn, he couldn’t wait to fuck you up.

“Since when did you become so easy?” He said against your skin. His fingers rubbed you through your panties, slick already coating him. He pulled them to the side, “Look at you. Don’t tell me you got riled up by hyunjin.”

“N-no. ” You stuttered out, back arching off the wall as he rolled that bundle of nerves between his fingers. “It’s because of you, lix.”

He chuckled lowly, watching as your thighs clamp around his wrist. “And how am I supposed to believe the words of a whore, hmm? wanna prove it to me?”

You nodded Dumbly, pretty little lips unable to form words. Felix grinned, happy to see you submitting so easily. He flipped you around, demanding your hands onto the wall.

His fingers looped around that frilly little fabric and pulled them down. You suck in a breath as the cold air meets Your sensitive skin. It didn’t help that you were sopping wet, nearly dripping down your legs. You reach behind you, trying to pull your skirt down but Felix slaps your hands away.

“did I tell you to take your hands off the wall?” He snapped and once again, you just nodded.

That was only cute the first time around.

His hand come in contact with your ass, making you gasp. “Words, use your fucking mouth before I do.”

“‘Mm sorry.” You slurred out, tears brimming your eyes from the stinging.

“Good,” You could hear him unzipping his pants from behind and before you know it, his tip is being pressed at your entrance.

He pushed inside agonizingly slow, letting you recognize the difference between each inch until his thighs are against yours.

“you take my dick so well….I fit perfectly.” Felix said as he admired the view of his member being nuzzled so deep inside of you. Something only he’ll only get to see.

He reeled his hips back, pulling out fully and slamming back into you. You almost drop to your knees, but Felix’s wraps a strong arm around you.

Your moans filled the hallways of the house party. If someone was to stray away from the crowd— or if the music stopped playing for a second— they would definitely hear your cries.

“Slutty little girl, letting me fuck you out in the out in the open. Are you asking for someone to catch us?”

Honestly, you can’t even focus on what he was talking about. too busy being dumbed down by his dick as it stabs your gspot. You’re drooling, legs shaking, and mumbling out weak pleads for more. So fucking needy to till you’re taking authority into your own hands, fucking your self back on his dick like it’s your own personal toy.

“Dick hungry bitch.” He glowered, pulling you up against his chest by your hair. “you’re so desperate, it’s embarrassing.”

“Lix please,” you cried- body ready to cave at his very command. “I’m so close.”

“Do you actually think you deserve to cum after your behavior?” He snapped, hand moving from your hair to your neck with a squeeze. “You wanted to fuck hyunjin so bad and yet here you are, drooling all over me.”

“I’m sorry. ‘Didn’t mean it” tears rolled down your cheeks as your core ached, stomach in a heavy knot. “just wanted your attention.”

Felix laughed at your confession, “so you planned this from the start? when did you get so smart?”

He caressed your stomach with his free hand, loving the way it bulged from how he deeply he was settled inside you. “I guess, I could let you off the hook if you’re gonna be this cute about it. “

“Please…I won’t do it again” You pleaded through your sobs.

Felix smiled hearing your words, no matter if the were true or not. Because in the end, he could just fuck you in front of everyone so they know who you belong to.

“Go on then.” He encouraged, pounding into you ruthlessly, lips on your neck as he raced his high against yours. “Cum around my dick like the little slut you are.”

When both of your peaks hit, it’s devastatingly hard. Felix fills you up with his white stripes and you worry about the mess it’ll make when he pulls out.

“Don’t let a single drop hit the floor.” He whispers into your ear.

“I-I can’t.”

“You can and will.” He says, slipping out of you slowly. He watches in amusement as you squeeze your thighs tightly, hole probably clenched, trying to keep his seed inside.

And you’re like that, as he leads you out the hallway, past the crowd— until you’re in his care seat, painting his black seats white.

“told you I couldn’t hold it.”

:)

[oneofstarkskids]

learn a thing or two

genre: flufffff

pairings: WLW, fury!reader x carol danvers

summary: carol has tried everything to get you to realize she's flirting. when nothing seems to click, she starts to wonder if she's falling for an idiot.

*not my gif*

carol was walking down the halls of SHIELD, smirking at the gasps and whispers she would hear. "oh my god, she's here!" "i've never seen her in person." "isn't that-"

she took the elevator to the floor that held fury's office. to be perfectly honest, she didn't need to be here- on earth- anymore. surely there were other places in the galaxy that required her attention and specific skill set, but she had been distracted as of late.

and there it was once again. that pretty little distraction standing in the center of fury's office holding a stack of files. her eyes trailed up your body. the pantsuit you had on was nice, but carol couldn't help wondering what it would look like on the floor.

"fury," she nods as she enters the room. you turn around at the sound of her voice. she looks like the personification of sunlight. dammit. focus.

nick responds, "carol. surprised to see you still here."

she never takes her eyes off of you, "actually, i was talking to this one." you raise a brow ever so slightly in surprise. your father just frowns.

carol let's a playful smirk dance across her lips, and you quickly turn back towards your father. "if that's all, then i will take these down to central and have someone organize them."

you're walking down the hall for only a few moments before the tall blonde appears beside you. "need any help with that?" she offers flirtatiously.

you don't seem to pick up her tone and shake your head, "that's alright. it's just files, but thanks."

her brows knit together, "okay well...maybe after work we can go for drinks."

you think it over for a moment, "can't. i have an early takeoff tomorrow. romanoff and i are busting some drug traffickers in peru. we've had surveillance on them for months now and they're finally letting their guard down."

carol laughed, "you could learn a thing or two from them."

"what do you mean?" you asked, completely oblivious.

she scanned your face for any sign of sarcasm. you were painfully serious. could you really not tell that she was hitting on you? carol didn't know how to make it any more obvious. "nevermind."

"you know...you better get back quick because i'm only going to be here for a couple more days," and when you didn't say much in reply she stopped walking.

you turned to see why she had stopped so abruptly. she had this exasperated look on her face. "is everything okay?" you asked.

carol's frown only deepened, "jesus, fury, what's it gonna take for you to notice a girl?"

"fury's my dad-" you corrected her.

she ignored you. it wasn't her fault you shared a last name with the man.

"i've been dropping hints all day. actually, screw that, all week!" she said in frustration. she was starting to wonder if you didn't like her back, but she'd seen the way you looked at her. she knew gay when she saw gay.

the only other explanation was that you were just plain stupid. "i don't know what you're-" you started.

carol couldn't bear to listen to that pretty little mouth say one more thing. she slowly made her way towards you, "let me put it simply."

"i've stayed on this planet longer than i have in a while. i spend every second that i'm at SHIELD trying to get your attention and i'm practically begging you to go on a date with me. how can you not see that?" she asked.

you looked somewhat confused and even a bit terrified.

"i thought you just saw me as fury's daughter," you said.

carol shook her head and reached up towards your chin, "i don't think about fury. i think about you."

her eyes fell down to your lips.

you'd had feelings for her before, but it always felt like she was off limits. carol just seemed emotionally unavailable in some ways, but then again...some could say the same about you.

but standing here with her looking at you like she'd set the world on fire just to touch your skin, it made your whole body light up.

you could feel electricity surging through you, but all you could focus on were her lips. it didn't even seem to matter that you were at work and anyone could be watching.

carol didn't move. she wanted you to put in the effort and you were more than willing. you leaned in quickly and suddenly all the built up tension was set free.

her hands found your waist and pulled you even closer.

"uh ehm," someone cleared their throat. you pulled away, flushed, to find your father standing a few feet away.

and despite the discomfort in his face and awkward energy that filled the air, you couldn't help but be grateful that he interrupted the kiss.

otherwise, you weren't entirely sure you'd be able to stop.

[verysium]

I’ve been seeing some discourse around twitter about the blue lock boys and whether they’d be a loyal bf or not 😭 Curious to know who do you think would be more inclined to cheat or who just wouldn’t at all!!!

I saw someone say sae would 100% cheat like whattt I feel like he wouldn’t even bother looking at anyone else if he already has someone (Cuz I mean dating him would likely mean you actually mean something to him) but I digress

ok anon you had me pulling up a whole argumentative essay here cus WHO TF SAID SAE WOULD 100% CHEAT??? 😔 that mischaracterization is so painfully inaccurate. twitter really took the whole emotionally unavailable itoshi archetype and ran with it. let me just clear the air here because my man deserves some explanation.

sae itoshi would not cheat. as in capital N and capital O. he took nearly an entire decade off his life just to work on his own issues and finally form a functional and healthy relationship with another human being. and you're telling me he's just going to let all that wash down the drain for someone else? 😒 twitter logic really be showing its illogical side here. apparently a man can be loyal to a professional sports career for eighteen years, but he can't be loyal to his significant other.

i think this misunderstanding probably happened cus of shidou. people read the manga and saw that sae dropped rin for a bug-eyed freak and automatically assumed he was disloyal. 😑 let me just say two things here:

(1) sae and shidou's relationship is strictly professional. imagine being stuck in an god awful corporate office with coworkers who bore you with their weaponized incompetence and a boss who annoys the living shit out of you. and then one day, the company hires a new recruit who is probably the most unhinged and debauched creature known to man. you're probably left wondering how he even got hired in the first place. but then you find out...he's useful. he takes risks and gets a high return on what he invests. it's impulsive and stupid, really. but at least it's unconventional and outside-the-box. he has your interest piqued. that's basically sae and shidou in a nutshell.

(2) just because sae gave shidou his number after the u-20 game does NOT mean he would do the same to any other person who would try to encroach on your relationship. and let's be real here. sae would get one text from shidou and block his contact.

anyways, here is my analysis on the bllk boys in general. introducing the anti-cheating to pro-cheating spectrum:

(A) cannot cheat under any circumstance (as in they already hate the fact that they live on a planet with 8.1 billion other people who are not you):

itoshi brothers (atp they don't even have the physical or mental capacity to entertain a third party), ness, reo

(B) cannot cheat due to physical incapability (literally cannot pull anyone within a five-meter radius to cheat with):

ego, igarashi, raichi, bachira (not that he's in any way unattractive...it's just...i feel like he would purposefully act weird to drive off people who aren't you)

(C) could not cheat (basically option A and B but less problematic version)

yukimiya, barou, kunigami, noa, loki, gagamaru, chigiri, niko, hiori, karasu (baby boy literally felt inferior cus his crush was the cutest in his class), kurona (head empty, just you)

(D) would not cheat (on you but everyone else is not included)

isagi (unintentionally a homewrecker to others but would never let anyone homewreck his relationship with you), leonardo (idk why but i just don't trust him entirely)

(E) could cheat (depends on what they get out of it):

kaiser, shidou (honestly what did you expect when you willingly dated a blonde man...)

(F) would cheat (either proven by canon or they accidentally fucked up somehow):

otoya, oliver, nagi

[wannaeatramyeon]

Goo Kim x Reader: Dating (feat. Gun)

G/N. Requested. Fluff

"Who is this mysterious sexy man?" Goo chuckles, "It's ME!"

He thrusts the trashy tabloid in Gun's face. That ridiculous headline and Goo's mug plastered on the front page, arm around one of the most sought after K-Pop idols.

Mysterious? Sexy?

Gun peers at the photo and thinks that Goo looks like how he always does.

An idiot.

Lips stretched into an open mouthed grin. Eyes crinkled. Hideously garish suit. Stupid bleached hair.

Some of his meagre charm must be doing something though, because the idol's smile reflects his. A touch more sane, a lot more sincere, and very much besotted if the way they're looking at the blonde is anything to go by.

"They're boring though," Goo leans back, studies the idol's face that he is casually bedding and dismisses them.

One word, cutting and cruel: "Next."

.

.

"Either answer it, or turn it off."

"Nope!"

Gun glares at him. The phone continues to vibrate, buzzing noisily on the table.

It stops.

For now-

One..

Two...

Three...

And like clockwork-

It starts ringing again.

Just like it has done for the last ten minutes.

Fuck this. Gun grabs the device and hurls it onto the floor. It smashes with excessive force, a complete overkill, into the marble tiles.

The screen cracks, flashes, then dies.

"You're doing me a favour," Goo taps his long fingers against the table, unconcerned and disinterested, peering out the window, "They were getting clingy."

They being the supermodel that walked the Paris runway last week. Graced the front cover of the September Issue the week before.

It didn't matter.

His interest putters out like it always does. Goo is done with them.

.

.

"Ewwwww, tasteless!"

Gun catches a glimpse of a suit nestled in a gift box, logos of one of the most expensive and exclusive fashion houses adorn the tissue paper.

"Throw it away! Trash it!" Goo instructs and the HNH assistant scurries away.

"Ugh," The blonde pulls a face, as if the lingering presence of the ugly garment is still offending his delicate sensibilities.

Grabs his phone (new and top of the line) out of his pocket and makes a show of blocking someone.

He throws his arm around Gun's shoulder.

"You'd think a chaebol heir-" Stressing chaebol and heir with a smug waggle of the eyebrows, "-would have better taste. I can't be with someone with such awful style!"

Gun pushes him away, "I don't care. Shut up."

.

.

Goo has a new obsession.

Used to let his phone ring out. Used to ghost people for days, weeks, months, before reaching out again. (If he does reach out, that is.) Relish in playing mind games and gaslighting.

Now he picks up after the second ring. Murmurs, voice cooing and sickly sweet, into his phone.

Excuses himself "I have to take this," and walks out of meetings with Charles Choi and the HNH board.

Is unavailable on weekends and evenings. Snaps "I'm busy," when Gun offers the moneymaker a chance to make more money.

Then the new obsession turns into an ongoing obsession.

.

.

Your name flashes on Goo's phone screen.

Your name is one that Gun has, against his will, grown familiar with.

He has heard more than his fair share of your interests and hobbies. How great you are, how talented, how wonderful. The way your hair gleams in the light, how your eyes sparkle when you laugh. How you always beat Goo in games, "Y/N must be cheating!" he would screech.

And, according to Goo, has the most deliciously mean sense of humour. "You could never be as funny as Y/N." Goo sneers, as if it was a competition. As if Gun ever wanted to be seen as funny. Or to make Goo fucking Kim laugh.

Gun couldn't give a shit. Gun couldn't care less. But since when did Goo care what Gun thinks.

So Goo rambles, voice rushed and excited, telling him everything about you even when Gun tells him to shut the fuck up and tries to uppercut him on the jaw.

.

.

"You're getting too attached." Gun tells him one day. Not that Gun cares, but Goo Kim happy is insufferable.

He expects a glare, an insult. Eyes narrowed behind glasses and venom.

Goo's response surprises him. Gun never expected this.

A shrug and a lopsided smile. Goo is resigned to his fate. "Yeah," he agrees.

He knows he is too attached to you, and he has no intention of ever changing that.

[http-paprika]

BLUE / simon riley

my very, very late submission for @glitterypirateduck simon "ghost" riley challenge. this was heavily inspired by the new billie eilish song of the same title because I thought it fit him so well. i used the prompts "face touching", "the heat goes out and it's freezing", and "a confession is made"

simon ghost riley x female reader / 1106 words / contains angst, alcohol, and smoking

WITH every patron that hurried into the bar, cold and snow blew in with them—leaving those even in the darkest corners of the bar chilled and draining down more liquor. The drink spilled through her veins, warm and potent as she waited another hour, shrunk away in the shadows with her cost pulled tight. Simon wasn't coming, she knew better than to keep waiting for him. 

 Finishing her glass of whiskey, she lets it sting her throat the same way the tears in her eyes did. With remorse, she sets the glass down and rises from her chair. Through the crowded bar of happy couples and friends, someone's celebrating a birthday, another girl is sobbing in the corner with her friends trying their best to comfort her. The whole room pulses with life, feelings, love, and hate and she can't seem to find herself amongst the crush of emotions. Dull, apathetic, and removed as she slinks out of the door and into the blue moon night. 

 Winter still holds a fierce grip over Manchester, spilling white flurries in the air as she walks down the quiet streets with a cigarette to warm her from the cold. If he were there, they'd be sharing the smoke and she'd be warmed by the blushed haze that always befell her when their hands brushed exchanging the cigarette. 

 Her hand fumbles with her phone, the bright, blue light warning her of how late it was. But even with the early shift she had in the morning, she loiters along her route imagining he’ll be waiting by her flat like Simon would sometimes do. Giving her the delusion that he cared enough to come looking for her, even if he couldn't be bothered to grab drinks with her. 

 Despite all logic telling her not to bother with a call, she finds the number that she's left a hundred voicemails for. Sounding desperate and pathetic with every call as she tries to convince him into calling her back. 

 “Hi, Simon. It's me… again. I'm just calling to check in, I haven't heard from you in a week and I just want to make sure you're alright. Okay, I'm going to go, I'm at my flat. Call me, please.” The sound of the voicemail being replayed causes her to cringe, maybe he'd never hear it like he never hears the rest. Maybe he's got a new number, that was the type of thing someone as shifty as Simon would do. But she can't find reason in his sudden absence, no foreseen notice of a deployment or mission. No text to tell her he'd be unavailable. Nothing. 

 When she rounds the gate into her apartment complex, she can see in the low light of the second-floor walk, the lone figure waiting in front of her door even though he had the keys. Burly hands shoved into the worn pockets of his jacket with head tilted down as she climbed the stairs to join him. 

 She didn't need to see Simon’s face to know that he was thinking. Always thinking about the past he refused to tell her about. One that she could only dream up, trying to picture what had happened to turn him into the man he was. The man who she desperately tried to get over, but couldn't move on from. 

“I waited for you. It's the third Wednesday of the month, or did you just forget?” She asks, stubbing out the cigarette on the melt railing. The frame creaks as her fist tightens around it in frustration. “Simon?” 

 “Was busy with work, forgot to call.” He shrugs, pushing his hood back and shaking out his dark blond curls. A rough, wartorn face that she'd memorized like the back of her hand. It was so enticing to her, mesmerizing with his pale lashes and dark haunted eyes. The type of man that kept her safe at the bar and kept her up at night in stress. 

 “You're always busy.” She holds back a scoff, knowing arguing never got anywhere with Simon. He'd go silent with every accusation she'd throw, leaving her intimidated and guilty for yelling. Even if she knew he deserved it. 

 “It can't be helped. Times are tough.” Simon responds, his eyes trailing over her as she moves to unlock the flat. Fumbling with the lock like she did with the phone until his hand reached out and steadied her grasp. He leads her into the apartment like it was his own, with an empty place on the coat rack for his jacket, and a spot next to all of her shoes for his boots. An indent left throughout her home for whenever he'd find it in him to return.

 “Would you like a drink?” She asks, still feeling the need to play hostess as if he were a stranger visiting for the first time. At the edge of her seat waiting expectantly for a response and reaction. 

 “Sure.” He shrugs, pulling off the cloth mask as she shuffles into the small kitchen. Tiny enough that when he joins her there's tension as she tries not to bump into him. Pretending like she wasn't up the night before craving the warmth he gave, the firm touch of his hands, when her space heater died. 

 “I am sorry, love. I'll be there next time, I promise.” Simon apologizes, watching as avoids his presence like the plague. She chewed the inside of her cheek, knowing that she'd accept this apology like she'd done before. Knowing full well he never changed, and she’d never ask him to. 

 He reached out, sensing her indifference, and cupped her cheek in his calloused hands. That touch always turned her into mush, clay for him to mold to his will and whims. She knew it was pathetic how easily she swayed for him, knew that her friends always criticized her for being so weak-willed. But how could she possibly say no to him when he always came back, even if it was days late? Wasn’t she better off with him than trying to find someone else to love, wasn’t the heartache worth it? 

“You could do so much better than me, sweet girl. Sometimes I wish you would.” Simon confesses, his voice low and full of regrets. He turns his head down towards her, wrapping her close in his arms, taking the glass of water out of her hand, and setting it down. 

Her mouth opens to speak, but no words form when she realizes she’s just as guilty as him. She’d never change, he’d never change. Together, they’d stay unmoving, frozen in the longest, blue winter.

[cognitivelypartiallyfurnished]

Tsukishima x mean!reader

-after Timeskip

If we can be completely honest for a second, Tsukkis gf could probably be as mean as he is and normaly he likes it that way, but what if a certain friend urged him to take a closer look...

Dont mind me, after writing this i want to recharge by taking a bath with my toaster...

warnings: teethshattering fluff, established relationship, implied smut ig and emotional unavailability, reader is a girl

Tsukishima x mean!y/n

For the past two weeks Tsukishima found himself staring at you while you were talking to some of your friends. He couldn’t help but notice the weird feeling in his stomach again, that seemed to remind him ever since that there was something he needed to talk with you about.

It all started when was hanging out with Kuroo, Bokuto and Akaashi on a weekend. They were all just spread all over the couch at his apartment. Everybody’s eyes were fixed on the television screen until his phone rang. Unfortunately, his phone was lying on the coffee table so he wasn’t able to grab it fast enough and when Bokuto took one glance on who the caller was he quickly snatched his phone with a smile. “Oya y/n-chan! How are you?” he howled into the speaker. Suddenly nobody really focused what was on the screen but rather on the caller. “Hey Bokuto, I´m fine, how about you? I´m sorry for disturbing your movie night, I totally forgot you guys were hanging out today!” came the response of Tsukishimas girlfriend. Bokuto tried to reply but the phone was grabbed by his blonde friend, who as soon as he noticed your voice tried to gain control of his phone again. “Hey, something up or are you just bored because I´m not with you?” he interfered the conversation with Bokuto before it even started. “Hey grumpy, in a good mood this evening? Its just the opposite, since you are finally busy, I can go out with some friends. Won’t be back till morning, just wanted to let you know in case you need help getting in bed like last weekend.” He didn’t have to see your face to know that you had a grin all over your face right now. Tsukishima furrowed his brow before replying “Don’t worry if you’re not here I don’t have to drink abnormal amounts of alcohol to forget your pain in the ass. Don’t be back till noon.” You giggled while announcing “Fuck you then, see you tomorrow dumbass. Try to stay in bed this time, will yah?” With a frown he replied, completely aware of his friends following the conversation eagerly “Only if you do it, what else is my girlfriend good for. Bring something to eat tomorrow and fuck you too.” As quick as possible he ended the call afraid of you mentioning his ungraceful fall out of bed last weekend for the third time. He was drunk and his senses weren’t exactly focused on the bed but rather on the girl that lied next to him. Taking of his glasses and pinching his nose bridge with his fingers he sighed. “I have never seen somebody more in love” Akaashi stated, his voice dripping in sarcasm. Tsukishima was confused, what was he playing at? But when Kurro asked “Are you guys always talking like that?” he started to think. Sure, in the beginning of your relationship it was a bit tampered down but you both were people who mastered the art of verbal bickering. After all it was one of the reasons he liked you so much. He shrugged and observed “I guess that’s just how we talk. I know that she doesn’t mean half the things she’s saying, and I guess she does the same with my remarks.” Kuroo took him in before commenting “Well ever since I’ve known you it was clear that you wouldn’t fall for someone sweet and innocent. I guess you finally found your match regarding the snarkiness. I can’t help but wonder if you guys talk like that all the time? Don’t you ever speak nicely with each other? And I never took y/n for someone to be that snarky around others? But maybe I´m reading too much into it, it’s your relationship after all. Let’s continue with the movie, I want to see this monster of a man again”. However, for the rest of the movie Tsukishima was lost in thought rather than in a cinematic universe.

Ever since this evening he was observing how you were acting with your friends and how your conversations were filled. He was in the final stages of his master thesis, but it itched him to gain knowledge on his relationship with you. After two weeks of doing so he came to the realization, that kuroo was a master of observing and he was right about Tsukishimas relationship. When you were with your friends there was a soft smile on your face, your voice a constant sound and even your posture seemed to be a bit more laid back than when he was with you. The blonde was aware of his quirks, especially expressing his emotions. He simply couldn’t help himself; he actually had no idea when it started and how he could try to have nicer or simply softer conversations with you. And then there even was something close to fear, he thought, what if after those roughly two and a half years you didn’t like him anymore? Sure, you cared for him but maybe you had fallen out of love with him and only wanted to remain friends? That was something he wouldn’t be able to do, he loved you too much for this, at least that he was sure of. The only idea he had was calling the person who had dealt with his snarky demeanor for the longest time and Akiteru was as happy as he wasn’t in a long time to be called by his brother and even asked for advice regarding his emotions. They sure had a lot to talk about this night.

For a bit more than a week your boyfriend was behaving very awkwardly you thought. It started when he kept staring at you having conversations with your friends even though he was supposed to work on his thesis to finish off his university career. When the staring stopped you heard and saw even less of him and after a week of very little contact and only half sided answers, you decided to contact him to explain this mess. Taking out your phone and texting him Hey smartass, I feel like we need to have a talk. Can we meet up or are you going to ignore me? you felt dizzy in your head.

After a few minutes, which you’ve spent in half agony, half hope his answer appeared on your phone: I agree, we need to talk, do you want to come over at my place Friday afternoon? Or do you want to meet on neutral ground?

You felt your heart sinking in your chest while reading his message, was he going to break up with you? Why was he proposing a neutral ground? Maybe you were too mean for him, maybe he needed somebody nicer? Or were you too clingy, too annoying or were you holding him back from reaching his potential? Despite feeling sick in your stomach, you agreed to meet him at his apartment.

Hearing the knock on his door he was startled. Closing his eyes, he had to remind himself that it was just you, you’ve been together for so long but he couldn’t help himself being slightly anxious, just like the first date you had or the first time you kissed. Tsukishima supposed, this was a first as well but this one he wanted to get over with. Opening the door he found himself astounded again, he had scarcely seen you the past days and now he was questioning himself why he prohibited himself from looking at you for such a long time. As usual he wasn’t quite able to point to what it was that kept him from looking elsewhere almost every time you where in his periphery. After more than two years he was aware, that your looks were slightly above average, so far he could tell objectively. But when he fully looked at you, he saw so much more than a slightly average girl. Somehow to him you looked harmonic, every tiny aspect of you fitted you so well in this whole picture of you that he was sure to be able to believe in a god if he told him that you where the gods eternal masterpiece. And then there was the feeling of home that settled between his shoulder blades each time he looked at you, he could practically feel your face on his back as he was making your morning tea and you were hugging him from behind. He had often wondered how on earth he was able to have all those thoughts, but he knew he’d never be able to speak them out loud.   

“Can I come in or do you want to watch me freeze to death in front of your doorstep?” you implied. It took almost all his restriction to not answer in his usual sarcastic demeanor. He stepped aside and you entered his small hallway almost immediately. Now you two were standing close together but you still felt like there was a big distance between you. This time he started speaking “Do you want some tea before your limbs freeze off?” You simply nodded and followed him into the small kitchen, the place where you two had cooked countless times together, shared so many laughters and had your deepest (and also drunkest) conversations. Now you understood why he had proposed a neutral meeting ground, this place breathed your shared memories. Unable to understand why you were thinking dramatic thoughts like that when you literally had last been here the weekend before you gratefully took the cup with your favourite tea from his hands, the slight touch of your fingers sending shivers like the first time you kissed down your forearms and back.

“Can I start? I think its best if we get this over with and before you say anything I want to tell you something, okay?” Seeing your big ass boyfriend mumbling you looked at him curiously, the voice of him not being snarky was rare to you. Afraid of disturbing the intimate and cozy atmosphere of the apartment in comparison to this cold and grey afternoon, you only whispered “okay”. While he seemed to gather his thoughts you were looking around. There was a reason you came over to his place more often than Tsukishima found himself at your place. His place was smaller but much more comfortable, he seemed to even have lit some candles you brought over on the small table in the kitchen. A strange feeling in your chest seemed to compress your heart, unsure of what was to come next you tried to take some last steady breaths. When Tsukishima started speaking, you looked him in the eyes, always lost in this weird shade of brown.

“okay…you are probably the only person…no who am I kidding… but you are the person who knows best how bad I am with emotions. However, there is something important I want to talk with you about. So, I guess unconsciously I was aware of this but what can I say, I’m good at ignoring my unconsciousness. When you called two weekends or so ago and were talking to Bokuto, you remember? Uhm, Kuroo mentioned something afterwards and I had to think about it ever since. I don’t think I´ll ever know a good way to say this so I’m just going to put it here: I think I don’t like the way we speak with each other anymore. Well, actually I’m sure I don’t like it. Most of the time I do, its just that I can’t help but wonder why we snark at each other all the time. Like when you talk to your friends you just seem so much nicer, I can’t help but think that its me who keeps you from being nice to me. I love your bickering, it turns me on so bad and makes me feel like I’m not the only sarcastic asshole but I think I also want to share nice moments with you. I don’t want to only have your mean side even though I know that you don’t mean the things you’re saying most of the time, I sure as hell don’t but I want to have all sides of you. I want to learn to have nice, normal conversations with you. I know that its not your fault or my fault alone, we both have to pull ourselves together for it, but I really want to. And now I’ve said all this and don’t even know if you still want to be my girlfriend, so if you don’t, please pretend I never said anything.” The breath he took when he was done was one of the loudest he’d ever taken, even in one of his volleyball games he scarcely was as out of breath as he was now. “Can we sit? Then its my turn to say something okay?” you proposed, suddenly aware of your trembling legs. Now you two were sitting across from each other, you gripping your cup of tea like your life depended on it and him doing his usual finger-fidgeting.

“I feel bad but I have to say it” You started, looking into his eyes, wide open and shocked, he was ready to say something but you continued “Shhh, now’s my time to talk. I thought you wanted to break up with me for the last week, so I was super afraid and nervous, well that doesn’t even cover it. I´m so glad, honestly, it’s been a while since I have felt this kind of relief. But now to your point. I think one of the reasons I’m snarky around you most of the time is that your kind of my Homeport…Around others I feel like I can’t talk shit all the time, nobody would like me, well except you. With you I don’t…I can just give you my thoughts without filter. However, I think I´ve been filtering all the nice and lovely things I´m thinking about you because I had the feeling that this just wasn’t our dynamic. I know you at least like me when you turn of the light and take my book away at night when I suddenly surrendered to sleep or how you know how to cook my favourite meals and how you tone down your teasing a bit on a bad day. Over the two years I learned to notice the small things and I hope you do too. But I agree, sometimes, especially when friends talk about their relationships, I´ll have a weak moment and just wish for some kind words or even something like I like you from my boyfriend. So if you’re feeling the same I´ll gladly put in the effort, I don’t want to loose you…You are very important for me…and I like you the way you are…and you probably ruined me for every other relationship if there is ever one because you just are you but like with a special place for me. I doubt that there’s anybody out there that is so well matched for me like you are so…don’t put me through this again. And remember those nice words!”  

Now it was Tsukishimas turn to be astounded. You both weren’t the kind to speak lots of words, deeming them unnecessary most of the time so you both rambling was a special occasion. Still fidgeting with his fingers he thought about your words. Slowly but surely there was a blood pouring in his cheeks, he could feel them heating up thinking about what you just proclaimed. “Come over here, I have something even better for you” Noticing how you were about to sob he kept his arms open until you were in reach and then pulled you into his lap. There were three magical words you’ve both only had said to each other so far when the other one was seemingly fast asleep. But after so much time together and hopefully even more he felt like it was now time to say it. “Y/n you’re a dork.” You looked at him deadpanned. “And I love you” now you were flabbergasted. Not being able to process a single thought you just stared at him while he hold you tightly in his arms and waited for you with a devious grin. Shoulders dropping and head tilting, you looked him in the eyes “I love you too Kei”. Next thing you know his lips are on yours, this must be the most love-loaded kiss you two have ever shared.

“If I´d known an I love you from me would shut you up for once I´d have told you waaay sooner”

“Kei, I´d shut up gladly hearing it from your stupid mouth again.”

“This stupid mouth will see about that in a minute, then you can tell me how much you like this stupid mouth!”

The smile you gave him now almost stopped his heart, it wasn’t exactly as pleasing as the soft smile for your friends but he was able to see your dimples and he decided, if there is one person who can laugh at him for falling out of a bed forever, it’s probably you. So no, there won’t be another relationship, except like, being engaged to you or something, but that could wait another year, Tsukishima tought.

[allloudontheeasternfront]

Everything at Once Part 5

Dieter Hellstrom x Original Fem Character

Btw this is very short! (Part 6 will be up soon as well!!!)

Sorry that this is later and shittier than expected. I had some personal issues to take care of and I kind of straight up procrastinated lmao. Hopefully y'all like it :)))

Warnings: antisemitism, cursing, some implied angst and smut, Dieter is a sad boi, Hans is meanie lol. Again, I do not support Nazis in any shape or form. This is just for the Inglourious Basterds fandom stuff.

.

A few days past and Camille still hasn't heard from Dieter.

Did he forget about her?

Was he hurt?

Did he leave her?

Awful and heartwrenching thoughts clouded Camille's brain. She sat on her rocking chair with a book in her hand, and a self-crocheted blanket on her lap.

Fuck... she thought. Why do I keep thinking about him?

Her mind was flooded with the passion he shared the other night. What would happen if he kept going? Would he be nice?

Her mind then went to the emblems and symbols that scattered that man's uniform. What if he found out? What would he do?

The thought of what Nazis were capable of made her world stop.

Her throat went as dry as sand and tears prickled in her eyes.

Feeling worthless and hopeless, she curled herself in a ball on the chair and weeped.

Why does my first love have to my enemy? She thought.

Eventually the sun would set, people would sleep peacefully and the world would stop turning.

The same evening, Dieter was sat in his god forsaken Gestapo office, going over all the shitty personnel paperwork Hans has so gratefully gifted him.

Asshole.

The personnel paperwork included the Jews and Communists living in the arrondissement in the last ten years that Dieter needs to find and eventually arrest.

Angrily, Dieter flipped over one person's file so roughly it cut the middle of his thumb and index finger.

"Shittttt!" Dieter exclaimed putting the wound to his mouth.

His eyes fell to the paperwork.

The face seemed familiar.

Though in black and white, the long curly hair was a lighter shade, the skin pale, dark lips, light eyes...light doe eyes...

His mind panicked.

Riddled with anxiety, he looked at the person's name...

No.

It cant be.

Robichaux. Camille.

Age 21.

Hair- blonde

Eyes- blue

le septième, Paris.

Owner of Boulangerie François

Jew.

No communist allegations to date.

Father- in custody

Mother- deceased

Unknown family members - possible hiding/ deceased

Other information unavailable.

Dieter's heart was beating out of his chest at a rapid speed. If it was possible, his skin became paler. Nausea and anxiety filled his body.

His thin fingers traced the picture of the young baker... tears threatening to spill.

Stupid waitress...

A part of him wanted to prove himself to Landa. To prove he isnt some dickhead officer who is capable of being promoted. To prove he isnt some desk jockey.

But a very real part of him sunk heavily in his heart, wanted to hide Camille..to shield her from world. Make her safe.

He looked at the giant swatiska flag in the corner of the room. It mocked him. It displayed nothing but hatred and cowardness.

What can I do to protect her?

I am nothing but a uniform controlled by a pompous asshole.

Footsteps woke Dieter out of his saddened daydream. He stood up straight with his arm raised in a salute welcoming his higher up.

Landa...

"So...how is paperwork going along, Dieter old boy?" Hans asked smarmy. "Dont tell you fell asleep again?"

It was one time...

"Negative sir. The missing citizens have been traced." Dieter replied emotionless.

Hans walked over slowly to his desk and saw Camille's documents on full display. He picked it up and sighed.

"Our little baker girl, eh? Who knew he was a dirty jew? Her cafe was so clean." Hans said condescendingly.

Dieter tried to swallow the lump in his throat.

Hans looked at him dead in the face.

"Find her tomorrow."

"But Sir..."

"Do not undermine my authority Hellstrom. I gave you an order."

Dieter sighed...

"Do you understand?" The evil stone cold look on Hans's face was chilling.

"Ja, Standartenführer."

"Gut. Keep working. You're not off until you're done." Hand left the room.

Dieter collapsed in his chair with a loud sigh escaping his lips.

He took Camille's documents in his hands and scared at her face. Studying it.

"I'm sorry..."

He downed his glass of whiskey in one go.

He drifted off to the night were Camille was under him, completely submitted. Dirty thoughts clouded his brain space. Her quiet sighs, her soft skin below his fingers, her eyes looking into his...his uniform pants got tight all of a sudden.

He looked at the documents once more. His eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

What if I lie to Landa...everyone lies to the prick so why cant I?

A plan was now in progress for Hellstrom.

He folded up Camilles paper and secretly stuck them in this coat pocket. He grabbed the main "Jew" paper and found her name.

After rummaging through his drawers he found white ink. Carefully and surely erasing Camilles name until there was nothing but a clear white line above the black ink. He blew on the paper to dry for safe measurement. Dieter smiled at himself, feeling accomplished.

But a real feel of crippling guilt creeped in him...

To be continued...

@whore4waltz @rurivu @xoxocillian @fridaycanbesadsometimes @racheljo47 @whitechoc135 @officerh4t @blueberrypancakesworld @hanslandasstrudel @gentlemenashortviewbacktothepast

(Lemme know if u wanna be tagged.)

[saschagemruler]

What I think the League of Villains would order at Starbucks bc I work there and I need entertainment sue me

~Disclaimer idk what Starbucks is like in Japan so I'm basing it off of the USAmerican Starbucks~

Shigaraki - Absolutely the sugarist thing on the menu. Pink drink with sweet cream cold foam on top; Iced white mocha with sweet cream cold foam, caramel syrup and extra caramel drizzle; iced pumpkin spice latte with sweet cream cold foam and extra pumpkin- you get the jist. The least sugary thing he's ordered was a french vanilla iced coffee and even then he asked for extra classic

Kurogiri - He doesn't like to drink much coffee, and if he does he has to brew it himself. Thus, he's one of like five people that gets the English Breakfast tea.

Dabi - Doesn't understand most of the drink names, doesn't care enough to. If someone is ordering for them, they'll get the "purple one" (Dragon drink). If they're ordering for themself it'll be a hot latte - vanilla if they're feeling fancy if not just a regular latte- or a mocha hot no whip. (They feel proud of themself for knowing to say "no whip". They should not be)

Toga - She's a pretty simple gal actually, never really gets an overly complex order. If it's in season she'll get an iced pumpkin spiced latte, if not she'll just get an iced white mocha. Is usually the one to order everyone's drinks if they're going in a group

Twice - She'll usually be unable to decide what he wants to drink and will debate about it for ten minutes before deciding on what she always orders- an iced black tea lemonade unsweetened. Before the huge splitting apart + trauma he'd always get a grande blonde roast with extra half and half.

Big Sis Magne - She's a simple gal. A simple tall black pike for her, sometimes a tall black iced coffee- no classic- if it's really hot outside. She also is the only one with a Starbucks app and always has Toga scan her account whenever the League orders. The stars she gets from their orders is enough to get free drinks for at least four weeks. Will order everyone's drinks if Toga is unavailable.

Mr. Compress - For him it's either the Passion Tango tea lemonade (sweetened, obviously) or a Mango Dragonfruit lemonade refresher. No matter the drink though he always asks for six splenda. Regardless of type of drink or size. No one knows why.

Moonfish - Will order the NASTIEST fucking drinks known to man. A trenta iced coffee, 10 pumps of classic, 10 pumps of vanilla, 10 pumps of toffeenut, 10 pumps of caramel, 6 scoops of vanilla bean powder, extra heavy cream, and caramel drizzle. Or what about a trenta pink drink made with heavy cream, sweet cream cold foam on top, seven scoops of vanilla bean powder, and 10 pumps of vanilla syrup.

Muscular - He wants a pink drink so bad. He wants that shit deep in his soul. He is too cowardly and orders a grande dark roast with two stevias.

Mustard - Give him a venti double chocolaty chip frappuccino no mocha sub white mocha and he'll happily sip on that shit for the entire day.

Bonus round:

Bakugo - Gets either a strawberry cream frappuccino no classic sub vanilla or a blonde vanilla latte if it's later at night. Caffeine makes him sleepy so he usually goes for the non caffeinated drinks.

Hawks - Fans speculate what drink he gets. They assume it's something like an iced vanilla coffee or iced toffeenut coffee. This is incorrect. Coworkers assume he gets pink drinks or iced pumpkin spiced lattes. This is also incorrect. He gets a hot cinnamon dolce latte and an everything bagel.

If people like this I'll do the entirety of Class 1-A.

Since I know no one is going to read this I used headcannon pronouns get off my dick

[idabbleincrazy]

Not Whole Without (1/2)

Fandom: Smallville

Rating: E

Pairing: Clark/Lex, Clark/Bruce (unrequited) , Lex/Bruce (past), Clex+Bruce

Characters: Clark Kent, Lex Luthor, Bruce Wayne, mentions of JLA

Word Count: 1892

Warnings: voyeurism, exhibitionism, Good Guy Lex, canon divergent, Lex knows the truth, kink discovery, blowjob, dirty talk, deep throating, come swallowing

Summary: Trust Lex to know just what they all need.

A/N: from @leatafandom 's prompt: Kink Discovery +   Lex and Clark let a third party watch them. It could be that they just kiss and do a little over-the-clothes touching. Or they could go all the way with an audience.

Squares Filled: Oral sex or Phone Sex, Location: Balcony, Kink Discovery, Having Feelings for the Other Person in a One-on-One Mentorship ( @julybreakbingo ), Surprise Encounters ( @fandom-free-bingo pride edition)

Clark couldn't hold back a groan of hunger as he found himself with a lap full of a very aroused Lex Luthor. The latest business party had finally wound down, the last guests finally escorted out the door to their own lavish accommodations, either one of the hotel suites in the building next door, or to their personal housing elsewhere in the city. Well, almost the last. Clark heard a clink of ice in glass and his grip tightened around Lex's hips, his eyes flicking towards the sound that had wafted in from the balcony.

"Lex, Lex, wait." Clark tried to nudge Lex away from where his mouth had attached to his throat like a limpet. "Bruce is still here. He's out on the balcony, and watching."

"Let him." Lex wiggled on Clark's lap, his very evident arousal pressing against Clark's stomach, hot through thin layers of fabric. He reattached himself to Clark's throat, teeth and tongue working hungrily over unmarkable skin. "He knows where the door is if he wants to leave. Hell, he could even take a flying leap. I'm sure he's got a gadget or two somewhere in his suit."

Clark let his head fall back against the couch, somehow unable to tear his gaze away from where Bruce Wayne stood, those piercing blue eyes unwavering as he observed the couple, glass of scotch now set on the table by the balcony doors. Instead of his erection flagging at the knowledge of someone witnessing Lex practically dry humping him, his cock hardened faster than he thought possible.

Six months since Clark had finally agreed to join the Justice League, and it wasn't Ollie's endless cajoling that made him relent - no matter what the blonde thought - it was Bruce. He was so like his Lex, and so different. The man had enraptured him, though not enough to tempt him to stray from his lover; he and Lex had been meant for each other since he fished him out of the river and breathed life back into his body. No, before that, maybe, back when his brand-new parents had picked up that scared, broken little boy and his inadequate father, and the little toddler that he was reached across the cab of the truck and brushed chubby little fingers over that too pale face in hopes of lending comfort. 

He loved Lex, more than he could put in words, even if it had taken years of ups and downs for them to finally, finally open up to each other. But, he couldn't ignore this growing thing between him and Bruce, and every patrol, every sparring session he had with the older man, only strengthened this confusing bond. He knew he should probably look more towards the other team members for advice and learning the ropes of superhero-ing, but there was no one he trusted as much as Bruce. Except maybe Diana, but she had her own mentoring thing going with Kara, and she was often unavailable to him in Themyscira. Bruce was the only comfortable option. 

He knew it couldn't be easy for Lex, seeing his current partner spending so much time with his ex. Lex had told him all about their time together in school and about their relationship when he'd come to get his opinion on joining the JLA. He knew a part of Lex's fragile heart still bore a scar from there time together. And yet, Lex had refrained from bad mouthing the Wayne heir - unlike the vitriol that had spewed over Oliver - and supported his decision to let Batman take him under his wing. 

All of this was why he knew he should push Lex away and wait for Bruce to leave the penthouse, and exactly why he couldn't. He wanted to see what Bruce would do, how he would react to seeing his ex-lover pawing at Clark, see how far the brunette would let them go in this show before he broke, one way or the other. And, honestly, if Lex didn't want him there, he wouldn't be. He would have been politely escorted out like the rest of them, and seen safely on his way back to Gotham. It made Clark curious, and slightly more at ease, to sense that Lex had a reason for leaving Bruce right where he was. 

So, Clark didn't even bother to hold back the next groan that Lex dragged out of him as slim, nimble fingers brushed over his chest, nails scraping over a budding nipple through his shirt. Keeping one eye on Bruce, Clark wrapped a hand around the back of Lex's head and pulled him down into a deep kiss. His cock throbbed when he saw Bruce blatantly adjust himself in his slacks, his arousal heightening at the proof that the other wasn't as unruffled as he seemed at first glance. 

Breaking the wet kiss with a breathless pant, Lex trailed his mouth along Clark's jaw up to his ear, teeth nipping harshly at the fleshy lobe. 

"You like it, don't you? Knowing he's watching. Seeing you like this, all ravished and horny. Seeing me making you this way. Is he hard, Clark?"

"Uh-huh", Clark whimpered out his affirmation. He clutched Lex tighter to him, thrusting up against Lex's own bulging crotch. He knew he should be more surprised at how turned on he was by having an audience, knew he was raised to believe sex was a private matter, but he couldn't find it in himself to be embarrassed. Later, maybe, but not now. Not when it was Lex, and Bruce. 

"Good."

And with that, Lex slid off Clark's lap to kneel between his legs, his hands caressing up Clark's thighs as his head dipped down to his groin. Clark moaned at the pressure of Lex's mouth against his cloth-covered erection, that slick tongue dampening the cotton as the bald man teased him. His gaze flicked back over to Bruce, watched the brunette slip almost soundlessly through the sliding glass doors into the room, the door closing behind him with a quiet whoomph of air. 

Bruce broke eye contact only for a moment as he crossed the room to where a large leather chair had been set up directly across from the couch. Lex had set this up, after all, it seemed. That chair was usually in their media room, and now it was ensconced in the shadows of the low-lit living room, barely visible without enhanced eyesight. The tech-billionaire sat back in the plush chair, his gaze locked on the tableau before him, his hand creeping down between his legs to rub at the sizable bulge distorting his expensive slacks.

Lex's hands quickly worked open Clark's belt, fingers deftly undoing the button and zipper of his pants, and Clark whimpered as he lifted his hips up for his lover to pull both slacks and boxers down to his knees, his cock twitching and leaking out a large drop of pre-come as the cool air hit its heated length. He wasn't sure if he was comforted or upset by the knowledge that Bruce couldn't see much more than his face and the back of Lex's head from the position he was in. 

"Lex, please." 

He tore his gaze from Bruce and his slow-moving hand, green locking onto a lighter blue as he met Lex's upturned stare, the heat in those steely eyes confirming that this wasn't just for Clark's sake. Lex wanted Bruce to be reminded of what they'd once had together, just as much as he wanted him to know what he was missing out on with Clark. Lex wanted Bruce to break, too, it seemed. Unsure whether this was still such a good idea, Clark nodded down at Lex, unable to stop tonight's events even if he wanted to. 

Lex flashed his shark smirk and closed his lips around the head of Clark's cock, tongue flicking out to lap up the pre-come that oozed from the slit. Clark groaned and fought the urge to thrust into the mouth that teased him, knowing it would be over too soon if he did. And, much as he wanted to come, a larger part of him wanted this never to end; wanted the three of them locked like this for eternity, Clark caught between the attentions of these two dangerous, beautiful men, their arousal filling his senses. Wanted Bruce to never be able to take his eyes off him and Lex, the erotic image they made together; Lex's head between his legs, slowly bobbing, Clark's chest heaving for breath he didn't really need, his hand curving around that smooth, bare skull, not guiding, just needing to touch, to tether. Wanted Bruce to forever be torturing himself with teasing touches of his own hand, seen in stolen glances when Clark needed the reassurance that the other was still there. 

Inevitably, Lex's mouth sinks down on his aching cock; Clark can feel the tip pressing against the back of Lex's throat, can feel his nose brushing against the skin around the base of his throbbing length. Lex sucks around the mouthful, cheeks hollowing as he quickens his pace.

"Oh, God, Lex." Clark shifts his hips, needing to press just that little bit deeper on Lex's next downstroke. He's never loved and hated Lex's deep-throating ability more than at this moment. His moan of pleasure has prompted Bruce into increasing movement in his shadowed alcove, and Clark feels another thrill of arousal course through him. "Fuck, baby, feel so good. Gonna make me come, Lex."

Lex is becoming noisy, now, low moans of pleasure and the sounds of wet flesh being suckled twine with his own increasingly loud grunts and half-spoken pleas for more. Clark can feel his climax looming, the tell-tale tingling building in his spine as he looks between these two incredible men who fill so much of his waking - and sleeping - thoughts. He can hear the susurration of fabric against flesh, Bruce's and Lex's, and it's the realization that both of these beautiful, intelligent, amazing men - men who could have anyone in the world at the snap of their fingers - are hard for him, that has him thrusting his cock down Lex's throat and gently holding him there as he cries out his orgasm. 

Lex swallows it all, suckling his pulsing shaft until Clark collapses back against the couch, his hand stroking softly over the curve of Lex's bald pate as he licks him clean. It's only the scent of his own release that lingers in the air as Lex pulls off his cock and carefully tucks it away; neither man has come yet. Clark's still hard, his stamina always leaving him ready for at least one more round, despite the intensity of his orgasm. 

Lex clambers back up onto his lap, kissing him soundly and sharing the lingering taste of himself. As he explores the cavern of that wet, perfect mouth, his hearing is tuned to Bruce, expecting the brunette to leave as silently as he always does when he's not hyping up his public persona. His heartbeat never recedes, still occupying the chair across from them. 

Lex stands, tugging Clark fluidly from the couch. Pulls him towards the hallway leading to their room.

"Lex?"

Lex doesn't stop, merely turns his head to smirk back at Clark. 

"You didn't think we were done yet, did you?"

~~~~~~

@leatafandom

[blainesebastian]

long distance (ccg universe)

words: 1,704 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (anon request): austin’s about to leave for about a month for something and you’re feeling a little emotional about it even though you totally support him and get a little weepy about it and just basically him reassuring you before he leaves  notes: all the austin butler love bumped me into 3k+ followers-- so thank you everyone xoxo appreciate every single one of you!  notes2: this is part of the ‘coffee cart girl’ universe but can be read alone. masterlist on my sidebar! :)  warnings: none tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff

Regardless of how strong the foundation is between you and Austin, how much you’ve been through in your relationship, you’re never quite ready for a bigger separation. You’ve done smaller things—he’s a busy man, you know that, kinda comes with the entire package deal of dating an actor. One week here or there where he’s just completely unavailable, only able to check in with you via Facetime or phone calls in a hotel room. You know better than to get upset at this point, keeping so many emotions to yourself, because the last thing you want to do is upset Austin because that’s all it ever ends up doing. You support him, of course, but you don’t want him feeling guilty by association.

Regardless, weeks are easier to get through than a month—that’s what you’re dealing with today, coming to grips that Austin is getting on a plane and leaving for another country, almost like a tour of interviews, events, parties…all without you. It’s not like he hasn’t invited you, he has, you just…can’t picture leaving home for that long span of time, even though you’re hoping it’ll go fast. With everything going on with the filming of your script, you want to be on set, present, there to see the entire thing unfold. Austin completely understands that and wishes he could be there for you instead of packing to leave.

Sitting on his bed cross-legged, you watch him load up a suitcase, carefully folding clothes, shoes and fancier outfits into layers. He’s quiet and you already know that means he’s got a lot on his mind, your eyes traveling along the lines of his body, up to the soft pinch between his eyebrows and the soft curls of his dirty blonde hair.

“You’re gonna get wrinkles like that.” You tease and you seem to snap his attention away from his thoughts. He blinks at you before a ghost of a smile appears on his lips, “Worrying?”

“I don’t like leavin’ you.” Austin says, standing at his full height to survey what he has left to put in his suitcase.

“Well that’s good because otherwise that might be a red flag,” You pick up a pair of socks to toss at him and he annoyingly catches them before letting them drop into his suitcase.

“With everythin’ you got going on with the script and movie, all the hard work you’re puttin’ in,” He shakes his head, zipping up his luggage. You don’t think he’s done with it exactly but it looks like he doesn’t want to work on it anymore, pushing it off the bed until it hits the floor with a thunk. “I wanted to be here for all that.”

You swallow over a lump in your throat, attempting to be strong about this because he does not need to see you all weepy. He’s already touch-n-go with the whole situation anyways and there’s really no decision about it, he has to go, it’s part of his job. Just like you have to stay to oversee what’s developing for you. Just the way the universe works sometimes and you definitely don’t want to sound like you’re somehow ungrateful, especially when it comes to the opportunities you have to turn your written work into something real.

Would it be even better if Austin was here? Of course. But this is long from being over…and he’ll be back before you know it. Right?

You watch him crawl into bed and lie down on his stomach in front of you, propping himself up onto his elbows. His fingers play with a hole in your jeans at the knee and you can’t help but lean down and press your nose and lips into his hair. There’s a soft kiss there, breathing in the scent of his shampoo, skin.

You’re not gonna cry, you can be strong about this—you repeat the words over and over in your head like a mantra.

“You know better than anyone how much goes into filming something,” You say quietly, pulling back a little, “You won’t miss too much. I’m sorry I can’t come with you.”

Austin shakes his head, pressing a kiss to your knee, which is so weird but intimate that it makes you chuckle. Picking up your hand, you run it through his hair, scrubbing at his scalp a little.

Clearing your throat, you attempt to shake away the sensation, “I mean, you’re gonna be so busy anyways—fancy parties, tux events, meeting new people, talking about exciting projects—gonna forget all about everythin’ I’m doing here.”

“Don’t say that,” Austin tips his head up to look at you, eyes so blue and gentle, “I know you’re kiddin’ but…I can hear it in your tone, you’re worried I actually might.”

You sometimes forget how well he actually knows you, how he can pick up on those small things. It’s something that means a lot to you that he does, he never lets your emotions slip between the cracks, the communication in your relationship is so strong.

It’s why you know that…even if you need reminders, or even if it’s scary, that this long-distance thing is gonna end up okay.

“Well,” You muse, playing with one of his curls, “It’s gonna be hard to forget about me anyways because I’m gonna like—Facetime you every day,” You tease, though not too far from the truth, “That squirrel that visits on your balcony all the time? Gonna make sure I call you for that.”

Austin grins, leaning up off the bed to move a bit towards you, “Oh all the time?” He raises his eyebrows, “Like—what about when we’re gettin’ in the shower, how bout that?” He asks, playfully attempting to lift the bottom of your shirt up.

You smack his hand away but it’s impossible to stop him from laying on you, a series of giggles leaving your lips as he maps his body along yours, pressing you down into the mattress.

“I suppose something like that could be arranged.” You shrug, “We’ll see.”

He cuts off your last word with a kiss. There’s nothing else to do but count down time on a calendar.

--

For the most part, you’ve had your general concerns and freak-outs in private, and both you and Austin have talked through a lot to prepare for him leaving. You trust him, you’re not worried about that or the distance or the fact that it’ll be difficult but you’ll find time to talk to one another at least once a day. It’s not any of that. It’s…the missing him part that keeps sneaking up on you.

And you were doing a great job managing those feelings until you pulled up to the airport to drop Austin off.

Richard, Austin’s bodyguard that he’s had for a while now through different projects, is set to meet him right inside before security. So you’ve got a few minutes left to yourselves as you slide out of the car and help him organize his suitcases onto the sidewalk outside the glass doors he has to walk through. You might have offered to go in with him but…honestly the extra time doesn’t mean it’s any less hard, you still have to separate, and you’re not in the mood to put up with any fans that might recognize him.

“Well uh,” You clear your throat, wringing your hands together in front of yourself, “See you soon?” Because you can’t get the word goodbye out from underneath your tongue.

He smiles a little but you can tell he’s having trouble too, voice a bit of a thicker drawl as he says, “Yeah, it’ll fly by—alright? Be back here before you know it.”

God, you clamp down on your tongue between your teeth so hard so you don’t start crying and yet the ugliest sound comes out of your mouth. So fucking embarrassing because all you wanted to do is stay strong for him and now you’re doing this?

“Oh babe,” Austin laughs gently, not at you but definitely in empathy, “C’mere, stop.”

“Oh my god,” You sniffle, covering your face with one of your hands as Austin wraps his arms around you in a tight hug. His one hand threads through your hair as the other traces circles into your back, “I swore I was not gonna do this—just leave me on the sidewalk, go to your flight.”

He smirks, pressing a long kiss to your hairline, “It’s okay,” He murmurs, “We’re gonna be fine, alright?”

“It’s not that,” You shake your head, glancing up at him.

Austin looks at you a long moment, nodding, his hands cupping both of your cheeks and wiping away tear tracks with his thumbs. “I already miss you too.” Because of course he knows, your heart fluttering to hear he feels the exact same way.

There are a few moments where he just holds you, keeps you close, threads his fingers through your hair and removes as many tears as he can from your cheeks. There are many kisses shared, as many as you can before he eventually takes a step back. The heat from his touch lingers.

“Hey,” Austin says as he picks up one of his bags, “Don’t be fallin’ in love with anyone bringing you coffee on set, alright?”

A genuine laugh leaves your lips, “I’ll try my best so that doesn’t happen.”

Austin winks at you, picking up his other bag before taking a soft breath. There’s this lingering, he doesn’t want to go, and he leans forward to kiss you one more time. “I love you.”

You share a soft smile, “I love you too.” Before he turns to walk into the airport.

You stand there for a long few moments, watching him disappear, waiting even longer to will your body to move. Sniffling, you wipe your face before getting back into your car, squeezing the steering wheel before nodding. There’s a soft smile tugging the corners of your mouth as you think about Austin and straighten your shoulders—

The emotions might be hard, strong, sometimes painful, but you know that’s what is going to make him coming home and back to you that much sweeter.

--

Thanks for reading!! :)

[rxgueone]

SEEN

Word count: 4,999

Summary: Austin, who strongly dislikes the oc. Eventually falls for her, and isn’t afraid to admit it.

Warnings: fluff, cursing, enemies to lover trope, arguing, emotional cheating, all I can think of.

Tags: none.

Note: I don’t know what’s been up with Tumblr lately. But this app has been duplicating and deleting paragraphs. So if this story is a bit messed up. I apologize. This is also based off of something that happened to me with the chic I’ve been seeing. We’re about to hit two years so rad. This story is based off of mainly her perspective and to what she’s told me when dealing with her friends who use to constantly judge not only our relationship but as well as me as a person so that’s also rad. But yeah. Story based off of mainly how she sees me and why she loves me etc etc. I love her sm. She’s genuinely perfect. So… I guess you could say this is technically just a super long love letter to my girl. So if she sees this. I love you.

MASTERLIST

—

The blonde sat down in silence. His body hunched over the bench he was sitting, legs crossed, with a pen and sketchbook. He was constantly glancing at the reference photo of Venom that was on his phone. Sketching out some sort of figure of the Marvel Villain.

Behind him was a girl in black pantyhose, a black skirt and black shirt. She had raven colored hair, that was long. However compared to him she was quite little and petite. He hadn’t noticed her presence as he was quietly sketching.

The girl recognized him. He was Austin Butler, the most outspoken guy at the campus. A man who she had hated greatly, and she knew he felt the same way over her. The pair had gotten into several heated debates about controversial topics. He was never afraid to stand up for what he believed in. When she had met him, he was dating a girl named Ana. Who was very short compared to him.

She never understood how Ana could put up with Austin. A brash and blunt man who never seemed to know how to shut up. But, this was the first time he looked at his lonesome. And she watched him draw in his sketchbook.

He never had many friends either. He always looked to be alone ever since he and Ana broke up. He had such a cold expression on his face, he was emotionally unavailable most of the time. And he had changed since the breakup, still outspoken but less or more so.

She cleared her throat, wanting to compliment the drawing. “That’s a nice drawing you got there.”

The pencil stopped moving as he turned to face her. “Oh,” he blankly looked at her. Looking at his drawing again, then at her, “appreciate that. It’s Venom.” He had a simple tone. His voice was raspy, but it had a husky twist to it. Almost seemed unreal how deep someone’s voice really was. She forgot how deep it was in all honesty, even despite of their heated debates.

“Oh… Venom.” She whispered. “Mind if I sit with you to watch?” She asked quietly. She was expecting him to reject the offer, considering their deep dislike towards each other- or, so she thought.

“Yeah, go ahead.” He flicked his head, motioning her to the empty spot. She blinked, taken aback by this. But nonetheless, she had offered, he took it, so she should go through. She sat down at his side, close to him to watch the pencil move against the paper.

She said nothing for some time, not wanting to disturb him. During this time, Austin’s eyes would sometimes wonder off to her face. She was prettier than he remembered. In fact, he never thought she was pretty, purely cause they were typically yelling at each other. He figured he’d spark up a conversation. “You know anything about Marvel?”

“No.” She answered, glancing at his face. “I dunno much about Marvel.”

“Me neither,” he admitted casually, “I just like drawing.” Once the sketch was finished. He began to tighten up the drawing so it could look more of an actual figure instead of just circles and messy squiggles. “More of a Star Wars guy.”

“You like Star Wars?” Her eyes were now focused on his face.

“Yes.” His tone remained monotonous.

“I’ve never watched it.”

“Would you like me to tell you about it?”

“Sure. I’d love to hear about it.” She shrugged. Her brown eyes had remained on him. As he continued to sketch Venom, she listened intently to his words as he talked about the love he had for the series. He sounded passionate, and she couldn’t lie, it was interesting and attractive how someone could talk so passionately about something they felt fondly for.

Her head was slightly tilted the whole time as she listened. She couldn’t believe that she was sitting with Austin, casually talking to him. She thought he’d be mean or hostile towards her. But he seemed so casual and chill, like they had never once argued a day in their life. For some reason, this too charmed her.

She blinked, thinking it’d be awkward to mention it. But she decided to anyways. “I thought you’d be meaner.” She said once he finished his monologue about how great Star Wars was. Austin looked at her with half sleepy eyes. His face was unreadable but she assumed he was confused. “Cause well- y’know, you and I use to go at it.” She chuckled nervously.

“Oh.” He looked away for a moment. “Yeah well,” he started, “I know how to properly loathe people. You were debating with me because that’s the whole point of English Literature. You debate about topics and stupid shit like that. You were only doing it to get the A. I was doing the same. Nothin deep about it.” He shrugged it off. “It was professional, not personal.”

She was surprised by his laid back response. “But I mean— I would ignore you and everything too after that.”

“So?” He smirked. “Don’t matter does it? You’re talkin to me now.” This man was full of surprises. He was laid back. Incredibly so that it seemed unreal. But on his face was a smirk, a smirk that showed friendliness. “We’re still friends. You may not consider me one. But I consider you one. So, I’ll wait for you to talk to me. I’m like a dog.”

“You shouldn’t compare yourself to a dog.” She was taken back from how low he saw himself. Never has she seen someone refer to themself as a dog, and for some reason he didn’t seem too bothered by it. He just looked back at the sketchbook.

“It isn’t an insult to myself.” Beginning to shade in the parts of Venom’s body. “It’s not an insult if it’s true. I’m like a dog. I wait and wait. My ex girlfriend ignored me for a total of six months, and I waited for her.”

“Ana?” Scooting closer to him until their knees were touching. He gave a nod. She looked at what he was wearing. Black jeans, a white shirt underneath his Vans hoodie, with a pair of Vans sneakers. “She ignored you for that long?”

“Like I said Lyra,” he looked at her eyes now. She saw nothing but empty gray orbs. As if he was use to being treated that way. With a blank expression, “I’m a dog.” He returned back to sketching. “You hated me. Your friends hated me too. Most people on this campus hated me. Even my girlfriend ignored me. So… y’know you gotta wait till you’re actually used or some shit.”

“But… nobody should be treated that way.” She spoke softly.

“Oh? When I debated with your whole entire friend group. One of your buddies made a whole post about it on Instagram. Then I got attacked for it.” He scoffed, his tone still showing no range of emotion. He didn’t seemed annoyed, he didn’t seem sad, he didn’t show anything.

“We did that?” Not even being able to recall the event. Austin couldn’t help but chuckle when she answered him. He gave a nod once more, his brows raised in amusement. “Oh- I’m sorry about that. That was incredibly immature of us.”

“Yeah. It was.” He began drawing in the background of the sketch. “But I don’t blame you. It was him. Not you.”

“But I’m friends with him?”

“But, you’re not him.” He put the sketchbook away now. Closing it shut to put it beside him with the pencil on top. “So… I look at you differently. Like I said. I know how to loathe people. I never had the privilege to really loathe someone properly.” Their eyes locked with each other. They were sitting incredibly close.

Maybe she didn’t hate him. Now that she was actually talking to him. He seemed chill, interesting with the way he thought. Yeah, maybe she didn’t hate him. Maybe she believed she did because her other friends hated him, but her? No.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know that.” She murmured, realizing that he was much different than she first perceived. He chuckled lowly once more, shaking his head. “Well- I don’t hate you either.” This caught his attention. Their eyes were still locked with each other. He had been listening to her intently, his arm over the bench, leaning back on it. With her hands underneath her thighs, with their bodies turned towards each other.

“You don’t?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I thought I did honestly. But now that I get to know you… you’re super chill.” Her hands pulled out from underneath her thighs, nervously twiddling with her fingers.

“Then I’ll see you here tomorrow, huh?” As if he was suggesting the idea to become actual friends. She had nodded her head in agreement. Not wanting to treat him like a dog, like the way he saw herself.

From that day on. The pair would meet up with each other on that bench every day. He’d probably bring some snickers, for himself mainly cause she didn’t like chocolate. But they had began to grow closer to each other as the days pressed on.

Lyra’s priority was always her friend group, and Austin wasn’t the priority. She cared more about her friend group than she cared about him. But at times, she would often catch herself talking about him.

“What’re you so focused on?” One of her friends asked. Noticing that she had been on her phone more, as if she was expecting a text message.

“Oh- a text from that guy I was talking about earlier.” She revealed to them. They quirked up their brows, surprised by the answers.

“You seem more interested in him.”

“Oh, well y’know he’s cool.” She brushed it off as if they weren’t even there. They had laughed at her new interest in him, going back to talking about whatever they were talking about. She had known that if they found out if she was talking to Austin Butler they would have made fun of him.

But for some reason, she began to prioritize him slowly. Slowly he was chipping away at her heart. At times when he would meet with her, they would just sit at the bench at talk. Get to know each other more. With his arm around her shoulder, and her leaning against him.

He was learning more about her. And the more he learned. The more he realized she wasn’t really a good girl like the front she put up for the audience. She wasn’t innocent nor pure like the front she put up. She was mean but she was also kind to him, she would listen to him talk about random things he enjoyed, or would vent to her about how the storage room flooded again at work.

She learned that he was a person filled with anger. He grew up in a culture where he was taught to never show emotion. So he was mostly monotonous with everyone he met. The only time he would actually show emotion was when debating with someone, but that emotion was usually annoyance, nothing more, nothing less. She learned he was impulsive and battled with his demons often. That he needed someone stable there to keep him calm, he needed someone who was patient and understanding. He needed that.

She learned that he was also a handyman. For some reason she found him to be the coolest in the room. He had revealed that he could weld, fix motorcycles, he knew how to cook, he had so many things about him that were surprising. Such as how his favorite color was pastel pink. She found this to be especially shocking due to the fact he was such a burly dude. Tall and blunt with no emotion, who really loved puppies and loved the color pink. When she needed him to help her with something, he was there. Always.

She learned that he would cope with himself by writing. His stories were always different in her eyes. With a world filled with nothing but hate, with a world that is constantly tearing itself apart, writing stories can help put it back together. Making up a poem on the dime for her just like that. She had figured that he’d write about her, about their friendship, about everything.

And so, she had came to the realization that she was slowly falling for him. For a man who was blunt, honest, unemotional, but that was fine for her. Due to the reality of him being an immature sweetheart.

—

At the time he had been talking to a girl for awhile. He would often vent to Lyra about the girl. About how she would belittle him and tell him how nobody would love him as much as she did, why Ana left him, why people treat him like a dog, etc etc. she would just go on with belittling him.

It was eventually so bad that Austin simply told Lyra. ‘I just want to be a good man.’ He would whisper in such a weak and soft tone, exposing his vulnerability to her.

Never before had a man expressed such a genuine desire to be good. Was he belittled so much that he genuinely saw himself as a bad person? To this. She would simply answer with: You are a good person.

And he was. He wouldn’t hurt a fly if he could. It was if he was afraid of hurting people. With his background, he didn’t want to hurt anymore people. He would always listen to Lyra, and she could be herself around him. Sometimes she would twirl, with his hand holding hers to help. Something she was embarrassed about but loved doing due to the skirts she wore.

He admitted to liking her skirts. He admitted to liking everything about her. Saying that she was kind and patient, which meant she was perfect to him. But she never believed him, however he believed his words with everything he had. He had fallen for her, and promised to protect her while they were friends. He had vowed his loyalty to her even as friends. So she could tell him anything she couldn’t tell her friends.

One day by the park, they had been sitting beside each other. She was eating ice cream that he bought for her. “You alright?” He asked.

“Yep! Vanilla is an awesome flavor!” She smiled up at him. A crack of a smile plastered on his face as he kept watching her eat quietly.

Austin had gotten a hint that maybe Lyra felt the same way he felt for her. He saw her as the most beautiful woman in the world. She wasn’t what he first thought of her. She wasn’t a bitch. She was kind, gentle, and understanding. She was whiney and bratty, but she cared deeply for him, he knew. She would listen to how he felt. She would listen. Which was all that mattered to him. Nobody, not even the girl he was seeing could even do that for him.

To him, Lyra was the most perfect woman in the universe. The way she would skip or sometimes ramble about stuff was what made her so perfect. The fact that she would comfortably lean on his shoulder without judging him. The fact that she wasn’t shy to smile. The fact that she was able to sit down with him. To look at him. It was all he could ever ask for from her. The way she would just wrap him up in all her love, the way she would touch his hair to make sure it was okay and not messy. Sometimes he’d just walk around in ripped up clothes due to how old they were and the fact he couldn’t afford anything, she never judged him for that.

He wanted to show her the world. He wanted to show her how grateful he was. Even with the girl he had been currently talking with, how he felt miserable. But with Lyra she would make him smile. Cupping his face as she spoke, gathering and stealing all his attention. Twirling to show off her skirts. For a short while, he thought he could never love again, not after that girl he had been actively talking to, not after the girl that made him feel miserable. But then Lyra found him that one faithful evening.

In all his misery, her calm and gentle smile, her soothing voice was there to save him. When he felt the most lost. She was there for him. She was his Juliet to his Romeo.

So on that day when he gathered up all his courage. He figured he would shoot his shot. “Do you like anyone?”

“Huh?�� She gulped down, licking her lips. “You asked me this already.” Her tone showed genuine confusion. Puzzled why he would ask her this while she was eating ice cream.

“I was just curious. I hear things.” He shrugged. “So…?”

“I got a crush.” Revealing only that to him. “What about you?”

“Yeah I got a crush too.” Blinking his dazed eyes, she perked up a brow. Austin? Liking somebody? When he was seeing a girl? Of course he likes someone. Maybe he just wants to amuse himself.

She chuckled to herself. “Yeah? Is it the girl you’re seeing?” Continuing off the assumption that he wanted some entertainment.

“No.” With a shake of his head, he hunched forward off the bench. With his elbows on his thighs, pushing his lengthy figure up.

“Oh-“ she blinked, now she was curious. If it wasn’t her. Then who. “Alright then who do you like?”

“You.”

“What?”

“You.” He reiterated. “I like you.” With eyes staring at hers. She had froze in place. She couldn’t believe how casual he was about this. As if confessing wasn’t nerve wrecking. The bastard even had an arrogant smile on his face. Amusing himself with how shy she had evidently gotten. Her face flushed a light shade of pink, her knees rubbed against each other.

Hurriedly eating the rest of the waffle cone. “Well-“ she gulped down the last of it, wiping her lips with a napkin he gave her, “-I admittedly like you too.”

“I know.” He shrugged. “You don’t do a good job at hiding around me.” Leaning back on the bench. He stared into the sky as if this was an average Tuesday.

“How can you be so casual about this?” Lyra had gotten multiple confessions in her life. All of them were hosted with boys who had their heart pumping in their chest.

Austin shrugged, thinking about it. “I guess… because I’ve accepted that if I get rejected then that’s too bad for me.”

Now that she had known Austin returned those feelings. She wanted him. She wanted him all to herself. But, how could she even admit that. How could she even say she wanted him. Austin had let out a sigh, a disappointed sigh. Which then again caught her attention. Now with his body turned to her. “May I kiss you?”

“What-“ she was still having trouble that the man she use to spite was now a man who liked her, and the fact that she even reciprocated those feelings for him was more surprising.

“May I kiss you.” He didn’t lose his calm tone. Knowing that she was incredibly nervous. “I know you just ate ice cream but my heart is about to explode.” Even with half opened eyes and a relaxed tone, he was nervous.

“Okay.” She nodded, and she watched as his face inched closer to hers. Until she felt their breathing against each other.

“Close your eyes.” He instructed. And she did. He smiled a bit. She’s cute. Tilting his head, their lips now against each other. His arms snaked around her hips to bring her closer. Instinctively, she had her arms around his neck. With her hands going up to his hair. It was soft.

Pulling away from her, he pressed his forehead against hers before finally pulling away enough to get a good look at her. She blinked up at him, and for some reason he was reminded of a doe. He couldn’t help but slightly smile at how cute she had looked. As if she was processing she had just kissed him. “Not bad, huh.”

“Yeah…” she admitted. “Not bad at all.” Seeming breathless by him. A low chuckle that resonated deep within his chest was his only response to how breathless she was.

—

However with the girl getting in the way, he and Lyra couldn’t be together. Without Austin’s knowledge, she had been seeing another man, and eventually that man confessed to her. To which, she had accepted his feelings. And when he had found out, he grew furious.

“You’re dating him? Darcel?” He had his arms folded across his chest. Standing in front of her, with his eyes narrowed down to her. “That goober?”

“You did not just say goober, Austin.” She was trying to take him serious but with the word Goober. She couldn’t. She saw him as a childish guy. “Austin, I don’t even know why you care so much! You’ve been refusing to date me for the last two weeks!” She was sitting on the couch in the middle of his living room at his apartment.

“Okay who gives a fuck, Lyra! I want you. Be with me!” He shouted out of frustration. She blinked, surprised by how randomly he had just asked her out. “Just- who gives a fuck about her, yeah? Just be with me.”

“Oh well that’s a bit too late now. I’m not gonna leave Darcel for you.” She was calm, her legs crossed, folded arms.

He sat beside her now, staring at her eyes, frustrated. Gulping down his anger, he inhaled deeply to calm down. “Tell me this honestly. Do you love him?”

“Scuse me?”

“It’s a simple question Lyra, do you love the guy or not.”

“That’s rather rude of you.”

“Why can’t you just answer the question?” He scoffed, leaning back against the couch with his body turned to face hers.

“I-…” she trailed off, twiddling with her fingers again.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “So you’re playing him.” He muttered. Watching her hand reach out for his, he allowed her to hold his hand in hers. She looked down at his piano fingers, playing with them.

“Well y’know…” she began, “I just- I dunno. I love you. Not him.”

“So then be with me. Why play a dude.” He seemed to have calmed down now. She looked up at his gray eyes. Like usual, dazed and half awake. Proving it.

“Well, Austin. There won’t be an us. It’s over, between us.” She clarified for him. Wanting to make sure that he understood she wouldn’t leave Darcel for him.

“Well, might be over for you. But not for me.” He grabbed the remote of the TV on the coffee table, switching the TV on. She looked at him up and down. He’s got balls. She thought to herself. Something that she loved about him.

—

Darcel had seemed to get the idea that Austin had feelings for Lyra. He had spotted Austin standing uncomfortably close to her at a party the three of them had attended. With his head leaned down close to her face, from what Darcel saw. Austin’s eyes were so focused on her face, clearly listening to her words.

He had his hands on her hips to hold her. She seemed to be casually talking to him. Not noticing the gestures. She wasn’t even pushing him away. At one point, Darcel had overheard Austin telling her that he loved her.

“God Lyra, I love you. Y’know that?” His eyes looked her up and down. She was wearing his flannel jacket, underneath was a black shirt that showed a bit of her cleavage, and a pair of jeans. “You look pretty as hell.” He whispered.

“Yes. I love you too. Now hush down before people hear you.” She hissed.

“Darcel ain’t gonna know.” He shrugged casually. His eyes wandered across the party. Locking with Darcel’s who had been standing there was a cup of beer in his hand. His black hair slicked back. Austin had smirked at Darcel, flicking his head before Lyra had grabbed Austin’s face to force him to look at her, missing his attention.

“What’re you even lookin’ at? You’re making me whine again.”

“Sorry princess.” He wouldn’t kiss her. Even though he wanted to.

Eventually, Darcel and Lyra had gotten into an argument. He had yelled at her to cut Austin off. But due to her love for him, she had rejected the offer to cut Austin off. They would bicker multiple times about it.

He had enough of her now. He had dumped her there and then. “You stay away from him you hear!” He snapped, wanting the last word. “He’s in love with you.” Before slamming the door shut.

She stood there for a moment. Rolling her eyes, she had known that Austin was just a phone call away. To which, she took that phone call.

Just as she wanted. He had came over to her place. They were sitting side by side, her arms had been wrapped around his neck. He had smiled against the kiss, and she had finally understood that he was growing more comfortable with her. So comfortable that he had an actual smile on his face. He loved her. He did.

“So he dumped you.” He wanted to clarify. Even in spite of his blunt tone. She could tell it was a question. “Why?”

“Thought you had feelings for me and didn’t trust me because I refused to dump you.” She shrugged.

“Ah, I see.” He nodded understandably. “Well, guess you’re mine for the taking now.” He leaned down again to kiss her once more. Her hands digging into his blonde hair, with his arms tightly wrapped around her hips.

“Yeah, I guess so.” She smiled.

“How you gonna tell your friends that you’re with me?” Austin had known that Lyra’s friends hated him.

She shrugged. “I’ll figure out a way.”

“Rad.” He grumbled, scratching the back of his head. His brows raised as he sighed.

—

Lyra sat with her friends. All of them surrounded her. The eldest one had glared down at her. “You’re dating Austin Butler? The douche who is opinionated as fuck and doesn’t listen to anybody for shit?”

“You haven’t seen him.” She had a calm tone.

“We all talked with him!”

“Talking isn’t debating.” Not wanting any of this to get to her. She shrugged it off. “You haven’t seen my man.” Looking at them all. “He loves me and I love him, we decided to date. You haven’t seen him. You haven’t seen how he treats me. How he kisses me. How he looks at me.”

She believed that fully. His eyes would always soften when he looked at her. Leaning his head down close, or just leaning in her general direction so he could clearly hear her. The way he’d sometimes crack a smile from something silly she’d do. Or how he would teach her how to dance.

She would step on his Vans, and he’d hold her hand in his, with one hand on her waist. Showing her the steps to a dance.

The way he held her, with his arms propped up on her hips. Sometimes she’d straddle his lap, with her head on his chest. He would keep his arms around her hips, caressing them as he spoke to her in a soft tone. She would lay there, listening to how his heart would race whenever she told him she loved him deeply. But when they laid together. That to her was heavenly.

With her head laid on his chest, her arms around his surprisingly small waist with their legs tangled. She would listen to the beat of his heart, watching as her head would rise then fall in sync with his breathing. How deeply he breathed whenever he was asleep, he had looked like a relaxed baby.

How protective he was over her. How he would always hold the door open for her. Always holding her hand whenever they were out for a stroll around the city. She loved him, and he loved her. He was never afraid to show his love to her, he would sit with her and tell her; I love you, forever and always, with my heart and my soul. You have my heart. I love you Lyra. I love you forever.

None of them had seen her man. None of them had seen him. Seen him for who he truly was. You haven’t seen my man.