#and now I'm wondering how his career would look like if he did end up going to Lutetia like he wanted

[nail-art-no-jutsu]

🎶🌹 Rojuro 'Rose' Otoribashi headcanons 🌹🎶

Soundtrack: Alexis Ffrench - A Time of Wonder

Y'all I'm back on the bleachwagon and I can't stop thinking about this man, I especially love to imagine how he got to where he is, and finally I'm putting all my ideas in one place. So without further ado:

I don't think he grew up in Soul Society, but I definitely think he died at the worst possible time, when he was young and life was good and easy, and he had time to indulge in his hobbies, music in particular

like Toshiro, Rose heard the calling of Kinshara before he knew what it was, he just thought it was just something that happens to artists after they die

but unlike Toshiro, I imagine Rose told everyone, cause he just talks a lot in general lmao, and someone or other must have told him that what he's describing is called a zanpakuto

otherwise he wouldn't have gone and become a Shinigami at all

he was only interested in the training he needed in order to understand this creative force inside of him that he absolutely must express outwardly, and no instrument seems to be good enough

... except for a sword ...

he absolutely hated the Academy though, not enough room for creative freedom, too much structure, no composing daydreaming in class allowed, not to mention how he always got the best ideas for songs he wanted to write while he was in the middle of a training session

the only good thing about the Academy was meeting many of the people he would call friends for way over a hundred years

Rose didn't acquire shikai or even bankai in order to advance in his career or to become more powerful, he did so because it would have been impossible not to

Kinshara is very insistent and when it has something to show him, he has no choice, not that he doesn't absolutely love the experience, it's so magnificent that it moves him to tears of joy, it's ecstatic, it's sensory heaven

Rose: look at this thing I just learned to do, isn't this wonderful? Any of his friends: my dude, that's called a shikai, go apply for the position of Lieutenant. right now!!!!

he goes through a phase where he's uncomfortable with the fact that Kinshara doesn't just entertain, it kills

he'd be a lover not a fighter if it wasn't for how much farther he got artistically after learning to use his love for music for fighting

he overcomes this dilemma by telling himself that it's fine actually because he's one of the good guys, and promising that he'll only blur the line between creation and destruction against opponents who really deserve it

how do you identify that? he'll cross that bridge when he gets to it. don't worry about it

Rose didn't have a good time as a Lieutentant, again, too much structure, but he actually did apply for the position of Captain himself, at least that way he'd get to make the rules and he could take breaks whenever he wanted and procrastinate with his paperwork until he found the perfect background music for it and so on

this did not work out that great, because he had a very hard time working with Iba's mother as his Lieutenant, she had no patience for *gestures towards all of this*, and I also suspect she might have been resentful that someone so carefree ended up as her superior

and to fast forward just for a bit, Izuru is not like that at all, and it's one of the first things that Rose appreciates about him, Izuru does respect structure, but he's not above doing the work in all kinds of unusual ways as long as it gets done

a thing that Rose shares with Shinji is that he's always been interested in what's going on in the world of the living, especially when it comes to music, and then he branched out to literature, philosophy, pop culture, and other things that are referenced in lyrics, that's how he learns about things, even if after that he starts enjoying them for their own sake

I can see them both taking trips to music stores or to concerts on Earth, separately or together, especially when they were supposed to be doing something else

Rose just really needs a lot of enrichment in his enclosure or else he absolutely will wilt and perish, most gracefully, of course~

he is in fact not a snob when it comes to music, he knows the lyrics to songs you'd least expect, and he can appreciate the artistic value of artists or genres that he doesn't really listen to

you wanna rickroll him? nice try, he loves that song

and yeah, this is getting so long someone pls take my keyboard away from me

just kidding, this is way too much fun 💖

[alisterix]

@zitronenmilchmaedchen great tag! What have you done. Now I'll never shut up. This is for you and for everybody else who cares a lot about Cacofonix/Assurancetourix.

Justforkix/Goudurix (from Asterix and the Vikings) did! Though not in the movie (because it didn't have as much focus on Cacofonix) but in the comic book that the movie was based on, Asterix and the Normans. This volume has a special place in my heart for how much spotlight and appreciation Cacofonix received in it, so let's talk about it!

After Cacofonix attempted to sing and received the usual response from his fellows, Justforkix proceeded to compliment him, he even went as far as to tell him that he's wasting his talent in the village and that he'd make a great career in Lutetia!

The thought excited Cacofonix so much he kept bringing it up multiple times to Justforkix, who at that point was too scared by the Normans coming to Gaul to really pay any attention to the bard and his career. Eventually Cacofonix decided to take matters into his own hands and leave...

...at the worst possible time! He left unaware of the fact that the Normans had kidnapped Justforkix and refused to let him go unless there was another way to teach them the meaning of fear. The best way to strike fear into the Normans' souls was, of course, Cacofonix, though fetching the bard turned out to be more difficult than expected since he had to be chased down and persuaded to abandon his plans of prestige and fame.

He didn't hesitate one bit though once he learned that Justforkix was the one who needed his help. How could he not rush to his aid, the teen has been so kind to him and appreciative of him after all, unlike all those barbarians he's constantly surrounded with, with no appreciation for music! He happily returned, put one hell of a performance and reveled in well deserved praise for it. The goal was accomplished: the Normans learned to feel fear, Justforkix was safe, Cacofonix got to give his first real concert in front of a willing audience. He gets to be the hero that saves the day!

The satisfaction from it appeared to be enough for Cacofonix to not give any more thought to his previous career plans. He stayed and even got to participate in the banquet, instead of being tied up like usual, which I honestly love so much. His singing, though almost universally frowned upon, has proven helpful and worthy of respect. What a sweet and validating moment for my boy <3

The way Justforkix appreciated Cacofonix's singing is really endearing to me! Also gets me thinking. Is Cacofonix's music really, objectively terrible or has he just not found the right audience for himself? The way his fellow folks dismiss his singing as "not actual music, just horrible noise" vs Justforkix saying "whoa this is actually really good omg you're so underrated" reminds me of how you'd have fans of, let's say, death metal, music with lots of screaming ect, and then there are people who can't stand it and it's awful to them. Lmao I am delighted by the idea of Lutetian teenagers vibing really well with Cacofonix and his "edgy" music... and then their parents being like, ugh, kids these days, what even is this nonsense they are listening to. This awful bard has a terrible influence on our children xD

[marvelstan0905]

Hi! I was wondering if you could a kenji x female reader where we've both not been very intimate in a long time because kenji's career and ultraman has kept him really busy and one night reader confronts him about it and then they argue and then reader gives him silent treatment and he ends up eating her out

"Let me make it up to you"

BF!Kenji Sato X GF!Reader [Oneshot :Angst-Smut-Fluff]

TW:arguement/silent treatment/smut/eating out/oral(f!receiving)/afab reader/female bodied reader/fingering/petnames/shouting/mixed POV/not proofread yet/angst to smut/swearing

©all rights reserved. the modification, translation, and plagiarism of my work is strictly prohibited.

"God! Why can't you just give me a break Y/n!? I'm so overwhelmed and so busy!" Kenji snapped exasperated. The two of you had been fighting for a few minutes now. You just offered to cuddle for a little bit, just hoping that Kenji could let off some steam since getting really liked cuddles and his life's been so hectic. As the good girlfriend you were, you were just worried and concerned. You couldn't do much and that helpless feeling just didn't sit well for you. The least you could is be there for your boyfriend and offer him some comfort. "I just need space! Lots of it!"

"Kenji I'm just trying to give you comfort-"

"I don't want your comfort! You're so damn clingy! God. Can you just leave me alone?"Kenji sighed in annoyance. My heart pangs feeling a tightening feeling within your chest. It hurt. Raising my hands in surrender, I sighed. Those words stung. Is that really what he thought of me? I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt and excuse it as the overwhelming and frustration he was feeling.

"I'll leave you alone." Was all you said before grabbing a hold of your jacket, purse and phone. With a harsh wipe of your cheeks, you left the house.

Kenji who was sitting on the couch with his back turned to the door sighed and ran a hand through his , already disheveled, raven hair. Kenji felt a heat and heaviness through his chest. He felt really guilty and bad. God what had he done?

"Way to go, Ken. Losing everybody and everything left and right. As always" Kenji exhaled before sliding his long calloused hands down his face.

Few Days Later

Silent treatment. No texts. No calls.

Just you like you promised, you would leave Kenji alone. Even when he did call and text, you wouldn't answer. As you made dinner in your cold, lonely apartment you heard the sound of keys jiggle in the door way. With a raised eyebrow, you grabbed the bat which Kenji gifted you and waited for the perpetrator to come through the hallway. As soon as I saw a shadow I swung with all my might.

"Baby! Wait! Y/n! It's me!" Kenji exclaimed raising his hands in surrender as he luckily dodged the powerful swing. God, he was glad he taught you how to swing but if he wasn't careful, he would've lost his head. With a sigh of relief and groan, you dropped the bat and turned to go back to making dinner with not a word. Kenji exhaled before following you into the kitchen. "H..How have you been, babe? I've called and texted you..alot."

Silence.

Kenji leaned against the counted adjacent to you and gently took a hold of your hand. With a scoff,you pulled your hand away. Kenji's frown deepened. His eyes had deep bags and he truly looked as if he hadn't slept in days. It didn't seem like he had eaten considering the dullness of his slightly sunken cheeks.

"Sweetie. Please? Can we talk? I'm so sorry. I really need to hear your voice. Even if you're gonna curse me out or whatever..just please"Kenji pleaded. Nothing. With a turn of a knob, you turned off the stove. Kenji couldn't stand the silence anymore. God, he couldn't. With a gentle grasp of your forearms , Kenji turned you to look at him. With a blank expression you turned to face him with eyes void of emotions. Even if you were still upset, you did love the bastard and would hear him out.

"Honey. I know I have no excuse for how I treated you, how I spoke to you, the horrible horrible words I said to you. I truly am sorry. I didn't know how good I had it till I didn't hear your voice or saw you anymore. You're everything to me and you just wanted my time and love but I was stupid and took my frustrations out on you. The only person who i truly have right now. Please...Please forgive me. Even if it's not now..I'm just begging to hear your voice" Kenji spoke sincerely. I sighed and crossed my arms. Those goddamn sad eyes. The man looked like a kicked puppy. Sad and lost.

With a gentle flick of his forehead, you mumbled out "Fine..I forgive you. Doesn't mean I'll forget it...atleast not yet. You really hurt my feelings. I was really just trying to help and spend time with you. You're really mean you know that right?"

Kenji felt like he finally take a breath of fresh air as he pulled you into his strong arms and placed a kiss onto your forehead. He felt so relieved to hear your voice. That beautiful voice. The voice that soothed all the storms in his heart. "I know. I'm so sorry. I'll make it up to you. I promise. Just..please don't leave. I love you so much"

"You're kinda stuck with me, idiot. Even if your behavior says otherwise. I love you too" I grumbled out whiles laying my head against his chest. Kenji felt the relieve wash over his body. With a grasp of your soft thighs in his large hands, Kenji picked you up and placed me onto the edge of the counter.

Kenji looked deep into my eyes and pressed his forehead against mine "I'm really sorry. Please forgive me. I'll make it up. I swear it. All the cuddles and kisses. I won't neglect you again, okay?"

The couple shared kisses and cute nuzzles. They still hadn't properly talked it out but this was definetly the start of talking it out and sorting it out. Kenju nestled his head into his girlfriend's neck and breathed in her scent. God, he missed her feel, touch, smell and taste. Now, probably was the most ideal but the man was hungry and he hadn't had a proper meal in a few days. With a teasing nibble to his girlfriend's neck, Kenji slid his hands down and underneath the oversized t-shirt his girlfriend wore.

"You know..I missed you so much. So so much " Kenji whispered mischievously whiles sliding his large fingers up her thighs, sliding his fingers in between her legs whiles caressing her inner thighs. You raised a brow, but didn't protest. You did miss his touch and..talents.

⚠️SMUT STARTS BELOW HERE⚠️

"Mhmm. I missed you too, baby but what are you up to?" I questioned skeptically his hands inched closer to my clothed heat. Kenji pulled me closer and spread my legs wider.

"I'm making it up to you. I have to start somewhere, right? I really wanna show how sorry I am, baby."Kenji breathed lowly, with faux innocence. His methodic and skilled habds, ripped your thin panties off and disregarded them somewhere on the floor. With a yelp, you closed your thighs feeling the cool air against your core.

"B-Babe! H-Hey! Thats the 20th pair you've ripped up! C'mon!" I whined whiles shakily holding my thighs together. I was shaking from anticipation and slight frustration.

"Oh I'm sorry,baby. Guess I don't know my own strength. Guess you'll need something to warm you up. I know the perfect thing" Your boyfriend rasped, 'apologetically' as he forced open those soft thighs, plush legs of yours and held them open. His beautiful mauve eyes had darkened, completely dilating as his eyes laid on your glistening lips. "Aww, how cute. You missed me that much? You're so wet already"

With a denying scoff, you looked away with a sheepish flush on your cheeks. "S-Shut up. Put that tongue and mouth to good use"

"Okay. Okay. I'm getting to it. Let's get something straight though.. I'm in charge" Kenji whispered firmly into your ear before nibbling onto your earlobe. My breath hitched and my blood ran hot. God, he was so hot. Your boyfriend gently but firmly pushed you onto your back on the kitchen counter before holding your legs open by the knees. "Mhmm you smell so good. I missed you, my love. So much"

Kenji uttered as he took a deep inhale of the scent of your arousal. With a small whimper, you could only nod. He's already got you tongue tied. My breath hitched.

"W-Will you be gentle?" I breathed whiles leaning into the kisses that he peppered my neck. It had been a while since we made love. His hands teased at my entrance.

Kenji smirks against your skin, his breath hot against your ear. "Gentle? I don't make promises like that, darling. But I'll make sure you feel every inch of my cock as I fill you up." His fingers tease your entrance, circling the sensitive bud before pushing inside.

"T-Thought you always keep promises?" I gasped feeling his long fingers stretching my velvelty walls open. He gives a low chuckle, his fingers curling inside of you.

"I do try to keep my promises. But I also like to keep things interesting. Plus I'm making up to you, babe" His thumb begins to circle your clit as he continues to thrust his fingers in and out of you, stretching you wide.

"I-Im not gonna be able to walk tomorrow, huh?" I mewled whiles spreading my legs. I gasped as I felt his long, warm tongue at my entrance. Kenji smirks up at you, his tongue sliding up to your clit, teasing it with every flick.

"Oh, I hope not. I want you to feel me inside of you for days." His fingers continue to fuck you hard and fast, driving you closer and closer to the edge. That's it. All Kenji wanted and needed. To make you feel good, to be with you, to hear you.

"D-Dear christ..K-Kenji that's vulgar" I moaned as my walls convulsed around his fingers. I flushed feeling the tip of his tongue slide through my pussy lips.

Kenji chuckled, his fingers thrusting deep inside you as he begins to fuck you harder. "I never claimed I was gonna be a gentleman today, my love. I like it dirty and rough. You know that? I wanna make you feel so good and make up for the time we missed"

His tongue laps at your entrance, licking up your juices as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

"C-Clearly" I moaned. My moans rose in volume and pitch as my hands tugged at his hair "H-How dirty can that m-mouth get?" He smirks against you, his tongue flicking against your clit. God, Kenji was enjoying this. He missed his your taste and scent.

"I'll show you just how dirty this mouth can get. Im gonna make a mess of you"Kenji promises as he begins to suck on your clit, his fingers thrusting hard and fast inside of you.

"God...mhm!" I moaned as my body began to wirthe and squirm beneath him. It felt so good. God I could feel his long fingers stretching me out and brushing against my sensitive walls."G-God I m-missed you!"

His voice is husky and rough as he continues to suck and lick at your clit, his fingers pistoning in and out at a punishing pace. "I know, baby. I missed you more. Let me hear that voice of yours" Kenji demands as he smirks up at you, his hand still working you hard. That beautiful voice of yours. Those days without hearing you, without feeling you, without tasting you were PURE torture. "Oh, I'm just getting started."

"K-Kenji..i-im uh..close" I purred as my eyes rolled to the back of my head. I was so close. So close to that euphoric finish line. His fingers curl up, hitting that sweet spot inside of you.He chuckles against you, his tongue continuing to swirl around your clit. I moaned.

Eventually I ended up screaming as I climaxed. I was in heaven seeing literal stars. I cursed making a mess all over his fingers as I screamed"O-Oh God! F-Fuxk! K-Kenji!"

Kenji's fingers continue to move inside of you, slowing down now that you've climaxed, though he doesn't remove them just yet. "Good girl. Now for round 2" His voice is husky with desire, his tongue coming out to lick at your juices still dripping from you. I squirmed beneath him as I felt my body calming down from the high. I was so sensitive.

"I love you so much. Now let me make it up to you"

[angels-fantasy]

hi!! i really like your work and i was wondering if you could do like a katsuki bakugou x reader where bakugou is putting the reader at risk of being harmed because of her being one of his loved ones and then bakugou purposely fights with the reader and then just walks out on her thinking it’s for the better and then a couple weeks later the reader finds out she’s pregnant and keeps the child a secret for a couple years until she runs into bakugou and then he wants a do-over or something like that 🥹

Second Chances (Request)

Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader

Details/Warnings: CW: Pregnancy Cw: Children, some angst, domestic fluff, dad bakugou, also soft bakugou hahaha.

Word Count: 2.9k

this idea is SOOOO cute i love it sm and it was really fun writing this. i hope i did your idea justice!! thank you sm for requesting anon :D i literally got so excited when i saw it got a request hehehe

Getting with Katsuki Bakugou was a dream come true. You two had been through thick and thin, and you had it all. Great jobs, a home together, and a strong relationship. Everything seemed perfect in your eyes, until one day Katsuki decided it wasn't enough for him.

Well, it was enough for him. It was more than enough actually. He loved you with all his heart and wanted a future with you, but doing that would put you at risk.

Ever since he was a little boy and dreamed of being a hero, he was warned of the risks the job came with. Not only would he be in great danger, but his loved ones too.

For a long time he believed he was strong enough to take on the world and every villain it had, no matter the threats they made towards him.

In his entire career, no villain had ever threatened a loved one of his, until recently. A damned villain had brought you up in the midst of the fight, spewing all kinds of bullshit he'd do to you that Katsuki would never want to even imagine.

For the first time in a long time, Katsuki reached a breaking point.

The disgusting things that villain said about you made him realize that he couldn't continue putting you in danger like this, so he had to find a way to end things.

He knew you wouldn't accept the real reasoning behind the break up, so he had to come up with something else.

You sat across the kitchen table from Katsuki with tears filled in your eyes. Seeing you like this hurt him more than ever, but he had to stay strong.

"How could this not be enough for you Katsuki?" You cried, "How could I not be enough for you?"

He looked down at the table to avoid your broken expression, "How else am I supposed to fuckin' say it huh? I don't wanna be with you anymore."

You shook your head, "Stop looking at the table and look at me when you say that. If you can look me in the eyes and tell me you really don't want to be with me, then you can leave."

It took everything left in Katsuki to lift his head up and look you in your eyes. He tried his best to put on a poker face, but you both knew it wasn't working.

"I don't want to be with you anymore."

Your face scrunched up slightly as you held back tears. "Okay Katsuki. If that's what you really want."

...

Having to hear Katsuki move out of your apartment was just another reminder of your relationship crumbling right before you, and it felt like the end of the world.

You don't know how long you laid in bed crying silently, but suddenly you heard Katsuki's voice from the door of your bedroom.

"I'm leaving now." He said quietly.

You played with a thread on the pillow next to you, choosing to ignore him.

He shuffled awkwardly at your silence. "Um, Bye. I guess."

"Bye Katsuki." You said quietly.

You stayed quiet until you heard the front door shut behind him, then you let yourself cry.

...

It was almost two months later, and you were starting to feel a bit better about the break up. It was hard sometimes, but you had a good support system and kept yourself busy.

Now though you were feeling better emotionally, you weren't really feeling well physically.

When you confided in your best friend about this, she told you words you really didn't want to hear.

"Maybe you're pregnant?" Uraraka suggested after hearing your symptoms.

You shook your head, "No way! And if I am, that's horrible! I can't raise a baby by myself. That's a two person job..."

She stayed quiet, now feeling a bit awkward when she remembered the messy breakup between you and Katsuki.

"I'd be here for you, you know that right?" She said and wrapped her arms around you. "I should have a few tests in my bathroom, do you wanna go take some?"

You bit your lip in thought. "I dunno. I'm scared."

She leaned her head on your shoulder, "I'll be with you every step of the way. You're my best friend okay? You should take the test sooner than later so that way if you are pregnant, you can start taking care of yourself and the baby."

You leaned your head on hers, "You're right. I'll do it."

Moments later after peeing on three sticks and looking at the results, you felt your heart drop to your stomach.

You opened the door and faced Uraraka, who was pacing in anticipation.

"Well? What does it say?!" She asked.

You held up one of the tests, "Looks like I gotta start eating for two."

...

5 years later

After finding out you were pregnant five years ago, you decided you weren't going to tell Katsuki. Maybe it was wrong, but you didn't care.

He had made it very clear he didn't want to be with you anymore, and you weren't going to hold him back from whatever plans he had.

You had also decided it'd be a good idea to move out of Musutafu, at least an hour away from him and anyone else that knows him. You didn't want the word of you having his child spreading around and eventually reaching him.

The only person you told were your parents and Uraraka, who promised she'd keep it a secret from Katsuki and everyone associated with him. The two of you kept in touch and she would occasionally visit you when she wasn't busy with hero work.

So now here you were with your 4-year old little girl, Keiko. She had some of your features, but of course her father's genes overshadowed yours despite him not even being in the picture.

The biggest resemblance between them was their eyes, which you hated temporarily, but grew to love again because of her.

"Mama! Mama!" Keiko called from the top of the slide, "Come play with me!"

You stood up from the bench with a sigh and made your way over to the bottom of the slide. "Okay Koko but be careful up there! I don't want you to get hurt."

She shook her head and scrunched up her face, "I'm strong! I don't get hurt Mama!" and then slid down to meet you at the bottom.

Once she got there, she slid into your legs and got surprised at the light impact but giggled anyways.

You reached down and picked her up, "What are you laughing at huh Koko?" You asked and tickled her.

She continued laughing her little heart out and you smiled at her, loving to see your daughter in such a good mood.

A few hours later, you found yourselves at the grocery store, shopping for new snacks Keiko could take to school.

You held up a pack of yogurt cups to your daughter, who was sitting in the basket.

"You want some of these baby? They have blueberry and strawberry flavor."

"I want blueberry!" She said.

You nodded, "Good choice."

The two of you continued shopping around for a few more minutes, until you felt your heart stop.

Down the same aisle, you saw none other than Katsuki Bakugou.

Just as you tried to quickly turn around, your precious child couldn't help but yell -

"Dynamight!"

Groaning in frustration at your daughter, though you knew it wasn't her fault (He just so happened to be her favorite hero, despite not even knowing he was her father), you tried your best to keep walking away but it was already too late.

You heard him yell out your name, and you quickly grabbed Keiko, abandoning the shopping cart in the process and you began making your way out of the store as fast as you could.

Katsuki, who noticed you and your daughter, did the same and began following you.

Once you were outside, you looked over your shoulder and called out, "Get away from me!

Keiko fussed in your arms at your loud voice, wondering what was happening and why her mother was running away from a hero.

Finally getting to your car, Katsuki was hovering over you as you put your daughter in her car seat.

"Is she mine?" He asked, out of breath from walking fast.

"No."

"You think I'm an idiot or somethin'?" He asked, "She looks just like me and you expect me to believe that?"

You kissed Keiko on the forehead, "I'm gonna talk to the crazy man real quick okay baby? Just wait here."

She nodded and played with her fingers. You shut the door and leaned against it, facing Katsuki.

"Leave us alone. I don't want anything to do with you, okay?" You said sternly, trying not to cry.

His eyebrows furrowed, "When we ended things... were you pregnant?"

You stayed quiet for a moment before answering.

"I didn't find out until a month later."

He let out a breath and put his hands on his face. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me? I would've been there for you, even if we weren't together."

His words angered you, "Why does it take me being pregnant for you to think about being there for me? I still needed you there when you left, but you wanted nothing to do with me!"

"I had to do it! You don't understand, okay?" He yelled.

You put a finger in his face, "Stop raising your voice at me like that. Keiko can probably hear you."

He grew quiet, "Her name is Keiko?"

"Yeah."

He looked at the ground, "Can I get to know her more? Please. There's no way I can live my life knowing I have a kid that I'm not there for."

You felt a tear slip down your cheek. "Okay, fine. I'll give you my number and we can talk about the details later."

"Thank you." He sighed, "Thank you so much. I'm gonna do my best for her, and for you too."

"This isn't about me."

"I don't care. It's what I want to do. It's what I need to do."

"Just give me your phone so I can put my number in."

He fished his phone out of his pocked and unlocked it, handing it to you. While you added your contact, he asked "What does she like? I want to get her something."

"Well she likes heroes, her favorite animal is a seal, and she likes crowns, because she wants to be a king." You said with a smile.

"Not a queen?" He smirked.

You shook your head. "Nah, she says 'king' sounds cooler."

He laughed, "That's definitely my kid."

...

After the accidental meet up with Katsuki, Keiko asked a million questions but you answered as if you didn't know him, and eventually she lost interest.

You decided not to tell anyone about what happened, just incase he decided to leave again. You also didn't want to tell Keiko yet, because you didn't want her to grow attached to him.

She knew her father wasn't in the picture, but she didn't fully understand why yet. You would explain it to her when she got older and grew more curious about who he is.

You had also found out why Katsuki was in your city, and apparently it was because he was visiting some family members (by force of his mother).

It was now a few days later, and you and Katsuki decided to meet up, along with Keiko. You wanted to meet him in public, but he said that was a bad idea because he'd get recognized, so you reluctantly agreed to allow him into your home.

"Keikooo" You cooed, "We have a visitor today."

She looked up from her toys and brushed her hair out of her face, "Who Mama?"

Just then, the doorbell rang. "There he is! Do you wanna go open the door?"

She nodded and skipped down the hall and to the front door, looking back at you for the okay before opening the door.

When she did, she gasped "Dynamight! What are you doing at my house?"

Katsuki laughed, "I came to see you and your Mama, if that's alright with you little lady."

She smiled and opened the door wider, allowing him to walk in. "What's in that bag, Dynamight?"

"It's actually something for you." He said and handed it to her.

She squealed and dragged the large bag behind her to the couch, where she quickly dug inside of it and pulled out a large seal plushie with a crown on it.

"It's a king seal!" She said in awe.

You smiled and sat next to her on the couch, "What do you say Koko?"

She hugged the seal, "Thank you so much! I need to name him..."

Katsuki laughed and ruffled her hair, "You're welcome kid. Maybe we can come up with names later." He then handed you a small bag, from who knows where, and urged you to open it.

You raised a brow but opened it anyways. Inside, there was a jewelry box, and inside that there was a necklace with three small flowers aligned together. It was simple, but pretty.

"You didn't have to get me anything..." You said while admiring the necklace.

He shrugged, "I know, but I wanted to."

You smiled.

...

For the next few months, things continued on that way. The three of you would meet up, Katsuki occasionally bringing you and your daughter gifts no matter how many times you said you didn't want one, and actually enjoying time together.

Currently, Keiko was being carried to bed by Katsuki. She was all tuckered out from today's session of hero and villain (she was the hero, of course).

When Katsuki came back to the living room, he slumped onto the couch next to you and sighed. "Damn, that kid has so much energy."

You laughed, "Tell me about it. It was even worse when I was actually carrying her. She was a kicker."

Katsuki looked over at you, "I'm sorry I wasn't there."

You continued looking forward, "It's fine. You didn't even know, Katsuki."

He smiled slightly at you using his first name, just like he did every time you used it.

"Y'know, I was thinking-"

"Uh oh." You teased.

He tsked and continued on, "I wanna start over again."

You froze, what the hell was he saying?

"Look, I know you're hesitant to and I understand why." He said and slowly grabbed your hand, holding it tenderly in his. "But I'm being serious when I say I haven't been with anyone since you. I still love you and I always have. And now that Koko is here, I love her too and I want to be in her life everyday."

Your lip began to shake, "If you loved me, why did you leave me?"

"Baby I was being stupid. I-I got into a fight with this villain, and he threatened you. I thought that my job was putting you in danger and I didn't want to take any risks, so I broke things off."

The tears were now falling, "You're such an idiot, you know that?"

"I do know. I'm sorry." He said and stroked your cheek, "I'm so fucking sorry for hurting you and not being there for you and Keiko. But please, please let me be here now."

You cried harder and leaned into his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you. That wound he left behind all those years ago was now a scar that still hurts. But so far, being with him these last few months has eased the pain.

"I love you" You cried, "I want you to be here now. For me and for Keiko."

He let out the biggest sigh of relief in years.

...

3 years later

"Keiko! Stop putting cheese on your brother!" Katsuki yelled across the kitchen.

Your now 7-year old daughter pouted and bit into a slice of cheese, "But he likes it!"

Your son, who was a year old, laid on the floor of the living room and laughed at his sister while chewing on his fingers.

After that talk you and Katsuki had, you began seeing each other again. It was hard at first, but he proved himself to you in every way he could.

You two also told Keiko he was her father, and she was confused at first but after a long talk and even some tears, she understood and quickly accepted he was her father.

She also loved being able to say Dynamight was her dad.

She also manifested her quirk, which was of course, the same as Katsuki's. When it first manifested, there was a random boom! that came from her bedroom, and when you two ran in, she was covered in soot and her doll was blown up.

Though instead of crying, she cheered in victory, which Katsuki found extremely funny.

Now for your second pregnancy, that was a surprise, just like your first one. Despite this, you two were still happy about it and decided to move into a bigger house together.

Hiroki looked a lot like his father, of course. But this time, he had your eye color which you were thankful for considering you carried him for almost 9 months.

"Keiko why would you put cheese on Hiroki?" You asked as you walked into the living room.

She shrugged and ate another slice.

"That kid is crazy, that's why." Katsuki said.

She quickly turned around, "No I'm not! You're crazy! Poop face!"

"Hey!" You said, "Don't call your dad poop face. That's not nice."

She grumbled a 'sorry' and went back to eating the cheese slices off of Hiroki.

You smiled and shook your head at your families antics. They could be a bit much, and they had explosive personalities (literally) but you loved them either way.

Maybe second chances weren't so bad.

authors note

this was so so fun! again, thank you for requesting 🩷 if anyone else has ideas or requests, feel free to send em!

i hope you liked this 😸

[flowerandblood]

Play with my heart (2/3)

[ modern actors • Aemond x Strong • female ]

[ warnings: masturbation, kissing, sexual tension, eavesdropping, discomfort associated with the loss of an eye, remorse, doubts, anxiety, unprofessional behavior ]

[ description: He gets the main role in a series about a great family and dragons, which could change his career. He is set to play the uncle and love interest of his childhood friend. When he meets the actress who plays her role, he begins to lose track of what is an acting and what is his real feelings. Sexual tension, grumpy, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: Yeah. I talked about it and I did it. You don't even know how much fun I had doing this. Of course, my characters play in a series whose script is an exact copy of my story The Fall from the Heavens. In this universe, Aemond (playing the One-Eyed Prince) and Rhaenys (playing the Princess) are of course not related – the other characters are also just actors. This three-part series is my gift to all fans of the original series, thank you so much for your support. "Rhaenys" in this story is her artistic pseudonym which she use instead of her real name.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

After filming the scene, they rose from the bed as if nothing had happened. The director complimented her acting, saying that she was able to wonderfully portray both the innocence and temptation her character evoked. She smiled at him as he unscrewed the water bottle and took a sip from it, walking towards him.

"They say the beginnings are the hardest." She said softly, looking around, waiting for the director to review again what they had managed to record and decide if anything needed to be repeated.

"Mmm." He hummed, taking another sip of water, feeling uncomfortable now that he was standing in front of her without a script, not knowing what to say.

They stood side by side in awkward silence for a while, looking at their director – he finally said that he liked everything and they would now shoot the scene where the Prince wakes her up in the middle of the night, dragging her out of her chamber after returning from Storm's End.

When he returned to his hotel room he collapsed on his bed, tired but also content. He felt ashamed that he had forgotten the line and at the same time he was grateful that his partner on set had helped him and been supportive, warm and understanding.

He didn't know how he felt about getting aroused during the scene of them kissing – he wondered where the limit of method acting was and whether he had gotten that much into his character or whether it was something else.

He decided he wouldn't think about it, and as long as they played their parts well, nothing else mattered.

The next day there was a big breakfast together in the hotel restaurant. At the table sat the director and his deputies, the writers, producers, actors, stylists and the many other people who contributed to this gigantic production.

She smiled at him from afar and waved at him, sitting at the table in her hair tied up in a braid, on her body only a T-shirt with the Pokemon logo and yellow tracksuit shorts.

He swallowed quietly, putting his hands in his trouser pockets, and sat down next to her, greeting her and everyone else along the way, unsure of how to act. Aegon sitting on the other side of the table extended his hand to him and he shook it.

"– how are you two doing? – you already have some passionate scenes behind you, right? – he's hot, isn't he? –" He asked her partner with amusement, who laughed out loud, trying to turn his question into a joke.

"– everyone here is beautiful and talented – I'm in heaven –" She said softly, deftly avoiding answering. Aegon laughed at her words and stretched in his chair, yawning loudly, losing interest in the subject.

He reached for the cheese toast, watching out of the corner of his eye as her hands placed the pancakes on her plate, which she covered next with pouring chocolate. She lifted her gaze to him and smiled at him warmly as their gazes met – he turned his face away, feeling like a mute, his heart stuck in his throat.

Why was he acting like an idiot in front of her?

It seemed to him that she took his silence as a signal that he simply wanted to eat his breakfast in peace, so she spoke animatedly to the woman to her right, Alys Rivers, who was to play the Witch of Harrenhal.

Aegon was talking to him across the table, mentioning something about their shared scene with him and Helaena. He nodded, sipping his toast with a gulp of coffee, absorbed in his thoughts, for some reason returning to their kiss.

He'd kissed many women in his career before, but this time it was something different.

He thought she was an excellent young actress.

In the following scenes they played he saw her in a gown for the first time. He thought she looked like some immortal elf in it, beautiful and light, a warm, gentle smile directed towards him on her face.

Her gown consisted of two colours – her long, floor-length sleeves were red, and the material hugging her breasts, hips and waist was light blue. Her shoulders were bare; other than that, she wore no other jewellery, her long hair falling softly down her back, accentuating her long neck.

He swallowed hard, feeling a twinge in his gut for some reason, and turned his face away, sitting down with her at the table where, together with Aegon and Helaena, they played out the scene in which the King informed them that they would be marrying for a second time, this time before the Septon.

They spent the rest of the day in the courtyard, filming shots of them meeting years later, and their conversation after they married, when the Princess came out to speak to him.

He felt a pleasant tingling in his lower abdomen at the thought of kissing her again: to his surprise, cupping her chin and placing a tender, soft kiss on her mouth came to him with ease. Her moist, fleshy lips didn't close against his caress, on the contrary, they parted invitingly, her hand tightening on his wrist.

Encouraged, though it wasn't in the script, he took a step forward and deepened the kiss, lazily brushing her soft mouth with his, her eyes closed, a quiet, sweet sigh left her mouth.

When he pulled away, he met her gaze, warm and misty, her cheeks flushed. He stroked her jaw with his thumb and she surprised him by rising on her toes, kissing the tip of his nose.

He felt his heart pound hard at the thought that this was not in the script.

However, he checked it quickly afterwards as he prepared for the next scene and saw that the director had added it as a suggestion.

He was furious with himself for feeling disappointed.

What was he thinking?

He didn't think it would be a problem for him, but he actually felt discomfort when it was time for them to play the scene where the Prince pulls off his eye patch in front of his beloved.

A new prosthetic eye was created especially for him which looked like a sapphire to represent his character well.

He was to wear it that day instead of his usual artificial left eye.

The sapphire eye was cleaned and prepared for him by the doctor who supervised, staying with him in private in the dressing room, that all was well. The very moment he closed his eyelid and opened it he felt that it was not.

Although its surface was smooth, something was wrong about its shape, rubbing his eye socket, once in a while pressing on a nerve under his skin from which shivers ran through him.

"It will take at least a few days to polish and change it."

He thought with a pursed lips that they didn't have that much time.

The shooting schedule was set to the hour.

He figured he would just get into his character's suffering more than he should.

As he walked onto the set he was met by her warm, comforting smile. He closed his eyes, clamping his fingers on the base of his nose, trying to listen in peace to what their director had to say to them.

"It's a scene of their tenderness, their closeness, at last devoid of subconscious brutality. In that one moment they reclaim each other." He said, and they nodded their heads.

In the original, this was accompanied by a sex scene, but the screenwriters decided that affectionate, passionate kissing would suffice here.

The thought that he would be able to do this to her made his heart pound like crazy, but he couldn't enjoy it: he clenched his eyes again and again, feeling discomfort.

Feeling pain.

For some reason, he thought he deserved it for his inability to be professional, for what they were doing was out of his control.

Rhaenys sat down on the desk and he stepped in front of her, between her thighs, her dark blue dress with exposed shoulders and sleeves reaching the ground perfectly accentuated her graceful figure.

She smiled, placing her hands on his shoulders, his fingers involuntarily running over her waist.

"Action!"

He took a step towards her, cupping her face in his hands, trying to focus only on her gentle gaze, only on her warm breath, only on how soft her skin was, instead of the fact that pain was filling his skull.

"Rhaenys." He whispered tenderly, pleadingly – the discomfort he felt made his words resound as if he was in pain – in pain because of the fact that they were separate.

She blinked, surprised and somehow touched, clearly appreciating his acting, which was only a matter of coincidence. She lifted her hand to his eye patch and he grabbed her wrist violently, her breath stuck in her throat.

"No." He said coldly and closed his eyes, feeling the pain as if a bolt of electricity surged through the left side of his face.

"You're my husband. That's enough." She whispered, wanting to soften her words by taking his face in her hands, making him involuntarily moan in pain. She let go of him, terrified.

"Are you okay?" She asked leaning over him and he nodded his head.

"What's going on?" The director asked them. "We're going to have to repeat the whole scene."

Fuck.

"Are you in pain? Please tell me." She whispered pleadingly and he shook his head.

"No. No, I….FUCK!" He hissed, leaning over, clasping his hand over the left side of his face, feeling such excruciating ache that he felt like ripping off his skin and tearing out all the nerves that were there.

"Call a doctor, he is in pain!" She called out, startling him by pulling the eye patch off his face. He heard her sigh in horror and cover her mouth with her hand, his stomach clenched in discomfort at the thought.

That she saw it.

That she felt disgusted.

"My God, his eye is all swollen up, what have you done to him? Can you take it out? Come." She said, taking his hand, and he walked out of the room with her like a small child, bumping into the doctor on the way.

"I warned him" He said.

"I can stay and help. If you don't mind." She said sitting down next to him on the couch in his dressing room.

He wanted to reply for her to leave, but he only groaned, unable to stand it, and as soon as the doctor had disinfected his hand he removed the sapphire prosthesis from his eye socket.

He did not know why he burst out crying.

He hid his face in his hands, feeling humiliated, thinking that the reason he had been taken for the role was because they hoped they wouldn't have to spend money on expensive CGI, but in fact he had wasted their entire day of filming.

He swallowed hard when he felt her arms embrace his head and let her lean over as she hugged him to her breasts, her pleasant scent, her warm hands stroking his jaw and back.

"Leave us alone for a moment." He heard her voice. The man nodded and said he would fetch an ointment that should soothe the abrasions.

"It would be best if you didn't wear your artificial eye today and let your eye socket rest." The man said.

"Get the FUCK out!" He growled, closing his eyes, thinking it was wonderful news, going around the set with an empty eye.

He thought it was the worst day of his life.

He swallowed hard as her forehead pressed against the top of his head, her gentle hands stroking his face, shoulders and back giving him a feeling of comfort and security.

It was so hard for him, and she was by his side.

"I admire you for holding out for so long. They should have checked that the prosthesis fit earlier, not on the day of filming. It's the production's fault and the director knows that. I'm sure he appreciates your commitment and will reorganise the work." She whispered calmly, as if she wanted to comfort him, and indeed, her words made him feel relieved.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled.

"Don't apologise."

"Can I lay my head on your lap?" He asked in a trembling voice, wondering if his request was disrespectful.

He just wanted to close his eyes for a moment and relax.

"Yes. Yes, of course, come here." She said, turning so that he could lie down.

He turned his head so that she couldn't see his left eye socket and rested his cheek on her thighs, placing his hand on her knee. He closed his eyes and sighed quietly when he felt one of her hands on his shoulder and the other on his cheek, her thumb gently stroking his skin.

There was complete silence between them.

"I got really attached to you, you know? I hope we still keep in touch after the shooting." She whispered making him swallow hard, cold sweat trickling down his neck as he felt his manhood react to her words with an aggressive throbbing.

"Yes." He muttered. "Yes, me too."

He spent the evening in the hotel bar, meant for guests only, feeling reasonably safe there, wanting to ease his mind a little, wearing a thin bandage over his left eye that allowed air to pass through.

He resented himself for being unprofessional, for having his real feelings mixed up with what he was supposed to be playing as a Prince character.

For the first time, he doubted whether he should really be an actor.

His grandfather surprised him by walking up to him from behind, patting him on the back.

"Don't worry about the issue with the artificial eye: it was their fault and the director came to me to apologise for the prosthesis not being tested earlier. You both do a wonderful job on set. The chemistry between you two is palpable and it shows on camera." He said, sitting down next to him at the bar table.

He pressed his lips together at his words, wondering if he should confide in him.

"I don't know myself. I'm confused." He confessed, embarrassed. His grandfather looked at him in surprise as soon as he ordered a double whisky for himself.

"Confused? Because of that girl? It's normal. She's kind and pretty. If you're feeling desire, that's good. Turn it into your acting." He said lightly, however, making him feel not relief but discomfort in his stomach. He stared dully into his glass for a moment, feeling the aggressive pounding of his heart.

"… I'm not sure if what's going on inside my head is good." He said in a trembling voice. His grandfather hummed under his breath, taking a sip from the glass the man had placed in front of him.

"As usual, you think too much. Even if… well, something happens between you two, one or two nights, it's nothing terrible. On set it happens all the time. The tension is high and you have to find an outlet for it somewhere." He said.

He got up from his seat and just left, feeling that he had made him sick.

He didn't agree with him, and he didn't think that using her to get off sexually was a normal thing to do.

She was young, younger than him, still filled with enthusiasm and naivety.

He didn't want to be one of those men who would take advantage of that, seduce her and then leave her humiliated as soon as the shooting was over, saying it was just a fun.

He had casual sex with actresses, but never with those he worked with directly. Nothing came of it because their paths quickly diverged and he didn't have the desire or strength for a long-distance relationship.

He didn't care.

He took a shower, brushed his teeth, changed into a T-shirt and sweatpants and went to bed, trying not to think about the fact that tomorrow they were to play a scene in which he exposes her breasts.

Not all love scenes were left in the script, however, this one was one of them, because it was significant moment – their first real intimacy and reunion after years.

They knew there was enormous pressure on them. He could see it in her face the next day – also dressed in a night gown she was looking down at her fingers, stressed, not a trace of her smile and confidence from the auditions.

He approached her, for some reason feeling that he should comfort her, lift her spirits, let her know that they didn't have to rush.

"– do you want to talk about how we're going to do this? –" He asked quietly and she nodded, unable to even look him in the eye.

"– yes –" She mumbled.

"– so –" He began, feeling for some reason that his heart started pounding like crazy, his hands clenched into fists. "– I'd start with kisses first – on the lips, on the neck, on the shoulders – they're rubbing against each other in this scene because they're feeling arousal, so it would be a good idea to try and mimic similar…movements – then I'll slide your nightgown off your shoulders – we can agree that you will guide my hand yourself when you think you're ready for me to touch you there –" He said quickly, forcing himself to be calm and composed, feeling a cold sweat run down his back.

Why was he so terrified?

He saw that she swallowed hard and nodded, looking up at him and lowering her gaze quickly, red with embarrassment.

"– yes – yes, that's a good idea –" She said and looked at him, her gaze warm, comforting.

Kind.

"– how's your eye? –"

He lowered his gaze, looking down at his boots, embarrassed.

"It's better now. Thank you. For everything. I don't want you to be scared today. Tell me if you feel something is wrong. Okay?" He hummed, and she nodded quickly, giving him a grateful smile.

"– thank you – I will –"

He swallowed heavily when the director told them to take their places. He sat down in a chair and she walked over to him, looking at him questioningly. He nodded, extending his hand to her to help her up, and she sat awkwardly on his thighs. He gently placed his hand on her hip, forcing her to slide closer to his chest, just as scripted.

They both swallowed hard as his manhood pulsed between her thighs under the material of his breeches, touching the material of her flesh-coloured panties, but neither of them said anything.

"– we will take it slow – okay? –" He encouraged her, gently cupping her cheek in his hand, bringing her face close to his. She nodded and smiled warmly at him, as if he had said exactly what she needed to hear.

"– okay –" She said.

Their director nodded at them.

"Let's try to get a feel for it first. This scene is about building tension slowly. If you feel discomfort, speak up, we'll try to do something about it. Ready?" He asked, and they nodded their heads like little children.

"Action!"

Apart from the sizzle of the fire in the fireplace to their right, surrounding their faces with warm light, there was complete silence around them.

He waited a moment before he pulled her face closer to him and his lips tentatively brushed hers in a slow, shy, moist kiss. He felt her body involuntarily move closer to him, her arms closing his neck in an tender embrace.

He felt her soft breasts through the material of his tunic, his hands traveled down her waist to her hip which he began to stroke in a soft, lazy, affectionate motion. She sighed softly into his mouth making his half-hard erection hit the space between her thighs again.

They froze in mid-motion and he was already about to apologise to her, telling her to stop, when this time it was she who leaned in. His voice went dead in his throat as her lips pressed against his, her body rubbing uncertainly against what was beneath her.

Fuck.

He thought as his hips tentatively came out to meet her, pressing what was in his breeches between her thighs, making it swell and pulsate, that this was not a good idea.

He knew she could feel it and that turned him on even more.

Her breath had become heavy and accelerated, their kisses messier, stickier, warmer, his fingers involuntarily dug into the skin of her hips hidden beneath the thin material.

"– uncle –" She mewled into his mouth in a way from which his erection became completely hard, his hand clamped down on her neck, forcing her to stay still as he slid his tongue deep into her throat.

She moaned, startled, gripping his shoulders, rolling her hips back and forth as if in a trance, teasing him deliberately, squeezing his length between his lower abdomen and her body again and again, the tip of her slick tongue licking his.

"– it tickles – here –" She mumbled helplessly, pressing her forehead against his, looking down, between her thighs, watching his bulge twitching in his breeches, which, however, only they could see.

He should have said his line, but instead, completely stunned by her behaviour and smell, he grabbed the material of her nightgown and slid it off her shoulders, snuggling his face between her sweet breasts.

She opened her mouth wide, shocked and moaned, hugging his head to her heart, making his cock throb hard. She took his hand in hers and guided it up, to her breast – he gasped, shocked how good it felt, squeezing tentatively her plump softness with his fingers, placing sticky, wet kisses on her sternum, her hands buried in his hair pressed him tighter against her bare, hot skin.

It seemed to him that she was as shocked by this sensation as he was, for she began to moan quietly – her nipple became hard under his thumb as he began to rub and tease it, his free hand clamped down on her buttock, again and again rubbing his painfully swollen erection against her.

He was turned on.

"Cut! What chemistry, I'm at a loss for words!" The director called out, and he let her go immediately.

She jumped back and got off his lap, inhaling heavily as if she was out of breath, putting the material of her nightgown quickly over her shoulders and breasts, the stylist said something to her and she just nodded, looking at him with big eyes.

He crossed his legs quickly and grunted, covering his mouth with his hand, looking towards the fire, pretending to listen to one of the assistants saying that now that they were all in emotion they would try to film their conversation years later.

Although they tried, neither of them could concentrate and they forgot their lines over and over again.

"What's going on with you two? Do you need a break?" The director asked them, and they replied at the same time that they did.

It frightened him to see her leave immediately, the thought that she might nevertheless have felt uncomfortable, that he had done something that crossed the line for her, but she was afraid to tell him.

He got up and followed her, heading for the rooms where they were changing and getting their make-up done, standing in front of the door with her name on it.

He froze when he heard a strange sound that seemed to him to be a moan of pain. He opened his mouth, wanting to ask if she was all right, if he could come inside, but then she made a different sound, a more familiar one that made his erection throb hard in his breeches.

He heard her quiet panting mixed with sweet, innocent mewls of pleasure, from which he himself began to breathe through his mouth, shocked.

He leaned his forehead against the door, wanting to hear it better, with the corner of his eye looking to see if anyone was around, but they were all on the set. He thought he was just a pervert when his hand travelled deep under the material of his trousers, clamping down on his long, swollen cock, twitching painfully with desire in his hand.

He imagined what she looked like now, digging her delicate fingers into her fleshy walls, leaking with moisture, pulsing because of him, because of what he had done to her, because of his kisses and touch.

He drew in a loud breath and pressed his lips together, giving himself a firmer squeeze at the base, imagining that he had grasped her thighs in his hands and spread them in front of his face, sinking his mouth into her wonderful, delicate folds, licking and caressing her little cunt.

He sped up, hearing the quiet sounds in her room become more vulnerable and helpless, and after a moment she moaned a little louder with some kind of relief.

He opened his mouth wide when he felt his warm semen spurt out onto his fingers at the thought that she had just come because of him.

He cursed under his breath as he looked at his hand and headed quickly to the bathroom, afraid that anyone would see him.

As he washed his hands in the sink he looked at his reflection, at his white wig and eye patch, and decided that he was beginning to lose control, that he no longer knew which feelings were his and which were his character's.

He was terrified and had no one to tell about it.

He only saw her at dinner that evening, and although she sat next to him, she didn't look at him. He pressed his lips together at the thought that she was as ashamed as he was, only she had no idea that he knew what she had done and that he had done exactly the same thing himself.

He was crushed by a sense of guilt that he didn't know what to do with.

He decided to finally speak to her, feeling his heart in his throat, playing with his fingers.

"Did I overdo it? Today during our scene." He asked in a trembling voice, trying to sound indifferent and cool. She looked at him surprised, putting her glass of juice down on the table.

"– I – no, I'm sorry I left so suddenly – it's just that all of this – all of this has overwhelmed me –" She muttered, looking down at her hands lying on her lap.

He looked at her in silence, feeling a squeeze in his throat at the thought that he understood her, that perhaps they felt the same way.

"– if you don't mind – I'd like to rehearse scenes with you before we play them – I'd like to talk to you about them – I have too much chaos in my head and no one to share it with –" She said, looking up at him finally, her brow furrowed in fear that he would not take her suggestion well.

He, however, felt some wonderful kind of relief.

"– yes – yes, that's a great idea –"

They spent the next few days acting out scenes, talking to each other for hours in the evenings in the hotel restaurant or her room about how they wanted to portray particular dialogues.

"– then when they're arguing I think to approach it more along the lines that: he just wants forgiveness and she's tired of him always expecting her to forgive him, even though he himself has held a grudge against her for so many years – something like: what should I do now? – divorce you? –" She asked sternly, getting into character for a moment, wanting to show him what she meant.

He hummed at her words and nodded, intrigued.

"– yes – yes, I think it's a good track – he's broken, exposed, afraid of the visions of that witch – he tries to push it away, but because of the way he represses it, everything he's afraid of comes back to him in nightmares –" He said, half lying half sitting on her bed with a copy of the script in his hand, the other gesturing as if he were a lecturer.

She nodded quickly at his words, sitting down next to him on the sheets, excited.

"– yes, exactly – he locks too much inside himself, and everything he fears then manifests itself in his dreams – his thoughts overwhelming him more and more and filled his mind like water that finally bursts his skull –"

"– a drop drills a rock –" He murmured and she snapped her fingers.

"– exactly –" She said, swinging her legs.

Unintentionally, his gaze traveled over her figure – her light-coloured sweatshirt with Jigglypuff from Pokemons seemed very fluffy to him, white tracksuit shorts and pretty white floral socks on her legs.

"– are you still watching this? –" He grinned with amusement. She cocked her head, smiling broadly.

"– what? –"

"– Pokemons –"

She giggled, embarrassed; the sound, innocent and sweet, made him feel a tightening in his throat and a pleasant tingling in his lower abdomen.

"– yes, but only the first few seasons – you know – the classics –" She said, closing her eyes proudly, as if she were speaking some work of Shakespeare.

"– mmm – I watched this when I was a kid –" He confessed, and she shifted towards him, delighted, surprising him completely.

"– I have a laptop – do you want to watch the first episodes together and order a pizza? –"

Though the suggestion seemed absurd to him, he agreed, and it wasn't long before he was watching, lying next to her on her bed, with a big carton of pizza lying on their bellies, as Ash tried to tame Pikachu.

"– God, how long it's been since I've watched this –" He muttered, feeling some kind of melancholy. He heard her melodious, joyful laughter.

"– I know this episode by heart –" She said between one greedy bite of pizza and another, clearly pleased and happy.

For some reason, despite his rather solitary nature, he felt comfortable around her. Her behavior made him feel like he wasn't being judged or watched – he knew he could say at any time that he was going back to his room to rest, and she wouldn't hold it against him.

He caught himself thinking that he really liked her.

What made him involuntarily distance himself from closer acquaintanceships with actresses was that it often seemed to him that they played offstage as well – they stepped into the role of innocent, sweet, dreamy romantics or passionate unapproachable women, but in fact he had no idea if he knew them at all.

With her, however, it was different – her sudden, unexpected reactions, the glint in her eye, her smile and unthinking remarks were real.

For some reason, her character, her presence had a soothing effect on him.

He was ashamed to admit that he liked her a little too much.

He kept repeating to himself that just one more episode and he would go, but another and another flew by. Her warm, soft body was wonderfully close, their arms were pressed against each other, their heads lying side by side on the pillow, as they looked at the laptop lying between their legs.

For some reason he felt like a little child again who was about to spend the night with his mate.

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye and noticed that her eyes were closed, her lips parted slightly, her head tilted to one side in deep sleep.

Something captured him in this sight – the thought that she felt comfortable and good enough with him that she had fallen asleep.

He rose slowly, taking the large pizza box from their thighs, setting it down on the floor and rose, trying to be quiet. She twisted around and hummed something as he covered her with the duvet and turned off the lamp, feeling somehow proud of himself for treating her the way she deserved it.

It was as if he had a friend.

[gguk-n]

The Sky Between Us (Charles Leclerc x Reader)

Summary- Meeting Charles was an accident, but being with him was a choice. Did Y/N have any say in keeping Charles by her side tho?

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1- Whispers of Adventure

If someone was to tell Y/N 2 years ago that she would be standing in a hotel in Austria involved in a heated argument with her boyfriend, she surely wouldn't have believed you. But here she was, eyes red, mouth dry and tears ready to spill. It wasn't always like that she reminisced.

Y/N was on a girls trip to Monaco, a trip that took months to plan and a lot of saving on their part. But Y/N was happy to be there, between all the glitz and glam. Everyone seemed so rich and wealthy, the 5 girls felt embarrassed asking for the prices of stuff before making the purchase, so they kept to sight seeing and eating food. On the second day of the trip, Y/N was out grabbing coffee for herself while her friends caught up with some sleep when she ran into a man, quite literally. It was like in the movies, her coffee cup, now cold but still half full, had landed smack in the middle of a man's white shirt. It looked horrible, this would stain and she had just ruined a strangers white shirt in all of this. Y/N profusely apologised and offered to either pay for the dry cleaning or buy him a new shirt. He seemed amused at the proposition. "I'm Charles, by the way." he said. "I would like to know the name of the woman about to buy me a new shirt." he asked. Flustered, Y/N raised her hand forward and introduced herself, he was quite attractive, she wasn't going to lie and probably around her age.

There was a garment store down the street, Y/N didn't really pay much heed to the store, how much could a plain white shirt cost, she thought. As the sales clerk pulled the same white shirt he was wearing out of the rack to ring it up, she asked, "Just wondering, it's a dress shirt, right? Must be slightly expensive, hmm." She nodded mostly to herself. Only moments later, Y/N was about to find out that the shirt cost almost 5000 euros, her mouth lay open in shock. She quickly collected herself and moved Charles away from the cashier, "What kind of job do you do that your shirt costs how much I make in a month?" she looked perplexed. "I travel the world due to my work." he replied. "I got that much, but damn dude, I want to apologise to you for ruining your shirt worth 5000 euros, I'll get on my knees and beg but I wouldn't be able to buy you that shirt. Any way I can pay for the dry cleaning. I'm pretty sure it costs in 1000s of euros, anyways." she rambled on. Charles laughed at the anguish of the woman in front of him. "This isn't funny Charles. Fucking hell. I had to go and bump into the hot rich white man while in Monaco at that." she mumbled while running a hand through her hair. Charles smirked, "I have a proposition" he began. "I'm not selling my organs for a shirt. You are fucking loaded, buy it yourself." Y/N cut him off. "Hear me out for a minute" the french accent thick. "Go on a date with me and that's the shirt sorted." he continued. Y/N seemed to mull her options over and agreed to the date.

It had been 6 months since the eventful day when Y/N spilt coffee all over Charles shirt. A quick google after the date let her know that he was a driver for Ferrari in F1; that explained his luxurious taste. Charles had yet to officially tell her about his profession. He kept the answers vague when asked about his work, enough that he didn't give it away but enough to not tell the complete truth. Y/N wasn't going to end his fun, he could tell her when he wanted to, she decided.

Charles wanted to show her what he did and finally stop lying about his career, he thought. So a week before a GP he called her; Y/N answered immediately. "HI CHARLIE" Y/N's voice echoed through the phone. "I missed you," she continued. " Not as much as I missed you." Charles cooed. "That's why I was hoping maybe you would like to come see me." Charles asked hopefully. Y/N smiled. She wouldn't give up the opportunity to see her boyfriend but she wouldn't be able to buy a flight ticket on such short notice. "Ahh, baby, as much as I would love to see you and hug you and kiss you; I won't be able to fly out to Monaco anytime soon." Y/N added. "Who said anything about Monaco?" Charles questioned. "I'm gonna be in Monza, Italy for work, this weekend. You can join me too." Charles said. "Won't your bosses hate me, for disturbing your work trip." Y/N joked. "They wouldn't dare" Charles declared. "On one condition." Y/N said. "And what is that?" Charles asked. "Dinner date at the most fanciest restaurant in Monza on Sunday?!" Y/N said hesitantly. That was the easiest thing. Charles wouldn't mind spending the night with his girlfriend. The perfect end to Ferrari's home race, he thought. "By the way, there's a race this weekend, you might want to keep some casual clothes for the race." Charles said in the most nonchalant way as possible. "OOhhh, races aren't really my thing." Y/N chided. She was in the mood to mess with her Charlie. "Its so boring to watch rich men drive around in circles" she moaned. "I promise you, you'll have fun. Don't worry." Charles tried to reason with her. "If it's required for your 'work' thing, than I can be a supportive partner I guess." she groaned while looking like she was in deep thought.

Friday came around a lot quicker than Y/N expected. Charles had flown her out. At the hotel, they got dressed to leave for media day for the race. "I don't see the charm of going on a day when there are no races." Y/N said as she fixed her white shirt. She had looked up all the Pinterest mood boards for how a Ferrari driver's girlfriend should look and did a bit of shopping. Who knew a Ferrari jacket cost that much, she thought. This was the last time she was gonna tease Charles; she took the Red Bulls Racing hat out and put it on her head. Charles mouth dropped open, "Are you wearing that?" he stuttered out. "My friend said I should support a team, so she lend me her RedBull's hat" Y/N read out from the cap. "I can get you stuff, don't worry about that." Charles was out of words, how could his girlfriend be wearing the opponents merch. He quickly rummaged through his stuff to get his Ferrari shirt out and on himself before his girlfriend jumped ships. Watching Charles made Y/N burst out laughing. "God, I can't keep this up. I was gonna wait for you to tell me." Y/N said in between laughs while putting the Ferrari jacket on and keeping the RedBulls cap away. Charles was now standing in front of her. She knew; the whole time. "I know you are an F1 driver for Ferrari. One quick google search and your face is plastered all over my screen." Y/N said while cupping his face. "Why didn't you tell me that you knew?" Charles enquired. "I was hoping you would tell me what you do, like I told you what I did." Y/N replied matter-of-factly. Charles closed the distance between them and kissed her lips.

All of these good memories seemed to have been over shadowed in both Charles and Y/N's mind as the two stood in the hotel in Austria, 2 years later. Y/N had only told Charles that work was gonna be hectic for the next couple months and she wanted to focus on it since she could be promoted. Charles wasn't willing to reason, he kept up the demand that Y/N drop everything for him. "Why can't you be like the other girlfriends? Who are there to support their boyfriend? I literally have to beg you to be there for me." Charles shouted. Y/N was taken aback, "Baby, I've been there as much as I could be, you know me and work." she tried to reason. "No, I don't and I don't wanna know either. If you love work so much, then why are you even dating me?" Charles asked. "You did not just say that, Charlie, I love you and that's why I take the time out to spend it with you. Obviously, I wanna be there as much as I can but it isn't possible with work and stuff." Y/N answered. "If you can't be there for me when I need you, then I don't need you" Charles said. "You don't mean that" Y/N lips quivered and the tears threatened to spill. "We are done Y/N, have fun with work and all the things more important to you than me." with that Charles left their shared hotel room with all his stuff.

[almostwisegalaxy]

I looking for you

..................................................................................

(After prison Reid)

It was a day like any other. Another case in the hands of the FBI. So why did everything go wrong? They had to break up a pimping ring, but they were walking on eggshells because big money personalities were involved. The whole team was on edge. If they didn't succeed, it would be the end of them and their careers.

Tonight's big "auction" is their only chance. These perverts will all be brought together to spend their money for the chance to walk away with the jackpot. You. Your virginity at last. The team was overwhelmed, especially Spencer. What can I say, he was furious to see them acting like they were betting on sports. But he had to stay calm for your sake and the smooth running of the operation.

Everything was going according to plan. They'd arrested everyone involved in the trafficking, and all the victims had been rescued. So why couldn't they find you? You couldn't just disappear. Spencer had searched for you for hours. But he was forced to catch the next plane to Quantico with his colleagues.

Even in Virginia, miles away, Spencer kept looking for you. You were never far from his mind, wondering how you were, what condition you were in after the traumas you'd endured. It became an obsession. One night, one of his contacts informed him that he'd spotted you on the sidewalk near the junkies' corner. He wasted no time in gathering his belongings from his desk, drawing the attention of his friends. It had become customary for him to act this way whenever he had news about you. Emily became concerned and came over to talk to him.

"Spencer, you can't keep doing this." He didn't listen.

"We did everything we could that night, you need to stop risking your sanity for one victim," Emily's words stopped him.

"One victim? Of course, for you it's just another victim on the list, isn't it? She might be dead or in hell by now, and neither her family nor the local police have tried to look for her, And I'm the only person who still cares about her right now, so let me do what I do best, which is save lives".

Within twenty minutes, he was in that alley looking for you. He saw you struggling for help as two obviously drunk men tried to drag you away. Of course he intervened, but after he had subdued them, he noticed that you were unconscious on the ground. He then took you home, changed your clothes, and laid you on his bed. The more he watched you sleep, the more the feeling grew in his heart, wondering if it was love or obsession .Whatever it was, he decided he wouldn't let you go - the outside world was too dangerous for you. He'll keep you here and take care of you. He'll let you rest in his room and wait for you to wake up.

..................................................................................

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook: 8:45 PM 🔞

Tags/Warnings: Adult, smut-heavy, making out, Idol!Jungkook, Fluff, Established Relationship, implied foreigner!Reader, not home AU though, Jungkook struggling hard, misunderstanding, angst with happy end, emotional smut, oral (fem. Receiving), protected sex bc this is me writing this and I teach you kids the true life lessons

Lenght: long.

AU-Masterlist

Languages are marked as English / Korean.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

He still can't believe your first time got interrupted by something as ridiculous as his manager calling him.

It's like a reminder that his career will always somehow wiggle itself between him and whatever happiness he tries to find outside of it- nothing ever truly personal for him, everything always meant to be well thought through so it fits into his public persona.

But he refuses to give you up, even knowing all of that.

Apologizing for it just feels.. odd now, like bringing up something awkward you did ten years ago that everyone forgot about anyway before you decided to rekindle the memory in their heads. But the problem here, right now, with you, is that he knows he should bring it up. Somehow. Because he's struggling hard to keep himself in check, even having had to embarrassingly rub one out in the shower this morning after you'd made yourself tea in his kitchen wearing nothing but a shirt and panties.

It's a problem.

He's hesitating to initiate anything now mainly because what if it happens again? He can't just put his phone on silent and ignore what could potentially always be very important calls from people who only want what's best for him in the long run- real life doesn't work like those movies where the protagonist throws it all away for his girl. He wants to, he truly does- but at the end of the day, he's also scared, because if he falls, he'll potentially take you down with him, and God knows how deep he'll fall with where he stands right now.

A drop from a height this high would shatter you inevitably, and he's sure he'd crack like delicate porcelain just as much by having to watch you suffer the consequences of his actions. You don't deserve that.

"..-ungkookie?" You try again, and he snaps out of his thought, looking at you.

"Hm?" He responds, looking at you next to him.

"I asked if you want me to cook for us tonight. Is that alright?" You wonder, and he nods, eagerly so, because of course he'd love to have you do something so domestic with him. He's always dreamed of being able to experience these things after all, despite his curse of being a public figure who's not supposed to appear unavailable. "Alright-!" You hum. "Gonna have to put pants on now though, gotta go get some groceries.." you whine under your breath as you stretch on the couch naked feet pushing against his thighs and oh, how your back arches-

No, bad brain. Not right now.

"I'll give you my card, hold on." He tries to save himself, getting up to fetch his wallet as you begin to laugh.

"Jungkook baby, I can cover some groceries, don't bother!" You argue softly, getting up as well before walking over to him. "You'll just have to survive some minutes without me, that's all." You tell him, hugging his middle as you put your chin on his chest, looking up at him. "Also, people would think I'm a gold digger for using a black card looking like.. well, me." You joke, as he can't help but reach out to affectionately brush some hair out your face, hands holding your cheeks.

"M'sorry." He mumbles, and you part a bit from him, serious at his tone of voice used.

"Hm? For what?" You wonder, and he sighs. Why did he bring it up now? This is going to be so awkward, he already dreads it. But now that he's put the noose around his neck, he might as well stand on the chair too.

"Yesterday. Or.. day before? Technically it was, wasn't it.." he rants, before sighing. "I hate that we.. had moment, you know, and then.. nothing. Ruined." He complains softly, and you can't help but look at him affectionately. He's such a soft soul sometimes, worries about so much that doesn't even need to be worried about.

"Jungkook, it's fine." You answer.

"Not fine-" he shakes his head. "Not fine, I- ugh, I want you, you know? Want to, but now, it's awkward and I don't know how to initiate it because every time I plan to I keep thinking of that moment he called and-" he groans in frustration, head thrown back before he looks down at you. "I'm sorry." He apologizes yet again, and you laugh.

"I forgot to pack socks for this trip, that's why I'm always barefoot in your apartment here." You say, and he blinks once, twice, before he looks at you, confused but amused the same.

"What?" He questions, tilting his head for a split second and you shrug.

"Now I've made an awkward moment for myself too. We're even." You explain, and he laughs.

"Thats not how that works-" he wants to argue but he inevitably leans down to kiss you- a peck quickly deepened by you, because God knows you want him just as much. But the struggle of initiating isn't solely his alone, because you don't know how to either. All is still new with your relationship, you don't even live together at this point in time, only a week more and you'll be back home trying to figure out how to move most of your stuff to his country so you can be closer. This was all a test, after all- to see if it's worth it. If you'll be okay.

And you know now, you'll be just fine with him at your side.

"Hm I need to get going now though-" you say, trying to escape him now- but he won't let you, hands firm on the small of your back as he keeps you against him, lips chasing yours making you giggle as you lean back as far as you can. "Jungkook!" You laugh, but he just playfully bites at your neck.

"No, I'm hungry." He mumbles against your skin, and you look at him, pushing against his chest.

"Yeah that's why I have to go? Get everything to cook?" You remind him, but he shakes his head, gaze making it clear that he doesn't care for that.

"Not.. that." He tells you. "Hungry for you." He says, raising his brows and you laugh at how ridiculous he's being. How can he be both so cute but also attractive at the same time? It's truly unfair.

"You're so cute." You tease, catching him off guard to escape his grasp and run into the bedroom to get some proper pants at least. But he's faster, palm slapping flat against the wood of his door before the momentum of his move slams it into the wall with a loud noise, making both of you jump for a second before he stalks towards you.

And once the backs of your legs hit the edge of his bed, you know you lost.

It's like his patience had finally snapped, his hands eagerly helping you out of his shirt, happily running his palms over your skin, warm and soft as you move around a bit to get comfortable. He sighs when his phone vibrates somewhere close- probably having fallen out of his pocket on the couch earlier, and you laugh, visibly uncaring of his misery. "Go get it." You tell him when it sounds again, and he groans out loudly as if he's in pain, angrily stomping back into the living room, where you can hear him answer the call with an annoyed tone to his voice. It surprises you when he walks back into the bedroom however, pointing to the shirt you're attempting to put back on, before he motions for you to put it back on the floor where he'd thrown it down earlier.

Just what is he thinking right now?

"Yeah, that's fine." He talks into the phone, his free hand untying the strings of your sweatpants, before he pulls on the hem, tapping your hips as if to silently ask you to lift them so he can get you out of those pants. "Not right now, but tomorrow is fine." He continues to talk to whomever is speaking to him over the phone, while simultaneously running his hand from the side of your knee, up to the hem of your underwear, the last item of clothing covering you at the moment. It's oddly exciting to see him so serious, yet clearly more focused on you than anything else.

You've never felt so adored before.

His fingers slip underneath the side of your panties, teasing you, so close yet way too far from where you'd like his hands to be most right now. And he's clearly aware of it too; if the hooded eyes and the small smirk on his lips was anything to go by. "No, right now.. I'm pretty busy. Sorry." He speaks again into the phone, thumb running over the dip between your inner thigh and your by now more than aching heat. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip for a second, before the whole thing visibly seems to edge him just as much- then tent in his pants evident.

"Alright, yeah, just- text the schedule to me and I'll talk to you tomorrow about it, okay?" He offers into the phone, moving to stand up and search for something in the drawer of his bedside table- colorful foil package pretty obviously hinting at what he means when he's said he's currently busy. "Alright, hmhm, yup- bye." He rushes out, ending the call before he throws his phone somewhere onto the shirt you'd been wearing, his eyes rolling in an annoyed manner before he takes off his own shirt, joining you on the bed.

"Did you really hang up on him like that?" You wonder, giggling when he has to sit back to slip out of his loose grey sweats as well, jumping on one foot for a bit as his other gets stuck in the fabric for a second.

"I'm not sorry." He shakes his head, crawling closer to you on the mattress to get a hold of both sides of your panties. "I've got my hot girlfriend all pretty and ready, no one can ever blame me for being needy." He shrugs, shaking his hair out of his face before he tries to pull your underwear off. "Hey come on now!" He whines almost, a stark contrast to the tattooed, muscled appearance of him currently already flushed and fully erect, straining against the cotton of his own underwear.

"Needy." You tease, and suddenly, as if you'd pushed a button, as he suddenly pulls on the fabric with more determination, successfully getting rid of the item of clothing with a gaze that screams fake innocence. Jungkook isn't new to sex, and neither are you- but it's the first time doing it with each other, which naturally places a bit of pressure onto you.

Or maybe it usually should be like that- because somehow, it all comes naturally.

When his hand finds your heat, you're already melting underneath his gaze, no words spoken as he leans further over you, catching your lips again. Only that this time, he truly seems hungry; no longer offering you fleeting pecks but desperate kisses that try and convey just how much he wants you right now. He knows that he could never truly make it clear to you though- because he himself doesn't even know if that's possible.

He's never wanted anyone so bad.

And while usually not too fond of it, his need to prove himself as the perfect lover- emotionally and physically- makes him detach himself from you for a second, before he adjusts his position, leaning down to have you lay your legs over his shoulders, hands holding your thighs apart as he lays his mouth onto your heat.

It's an entirely new experience for you, and he knows.

But luckily, if your Impatient whining was anything to go by, you're definitely enjoying yourself as he flattens his tongue over your sensitive nerves, eyes focused on you while he has to use a little strength to keep your legs apart, especially when you grow close to your first orgasm. He's eager to see it, moving away to gain a better view before one of his hands finishes the job, gaze on you as you arch your back and come undone from his actions.

And its now that he really can't take it any longer.

"Fuck I need you." He curses under his breath, finally getting rid of the last item of clothing he still had on until now, no need to give his length any form of help to get ready for you. He can't help but groan a little under his breath at how sensitive he feels, rushing the act of wrapping the condom over as to not rile himself up too much.

After all, he wants to be inside you for his own orgasm, no matter what.

"Hm I'll go slow, ok?" He asks, and you nod, hands reaching out for him, making him chuckle. "You're cute." He comments, earning a roll of your eyes in return. He lets it go for now- giving you a pass this time, but only because be truly feels needy now.

He'd love to tease you a little, make you all whiny and desperate for him, but right now, he just wants you as close as he physically can get.

Though in his haste to get onto his own road towards pleasure, he never forgets you- pride swelling as he watches you hold onto him, wanting him just as much as he wants you. He's a little sweaty already, and the sheetsbare tangled badly at this point from all your squirming, arousal already staining some parts of them but right now he really can't bring himself to care.

He uses one of his hands to aid him in finding your entrance, positioning himself to carefully push himself inside, and at this point, he just feels as if he truly became one with you. It's the last key experience in a way he's had to have with you, and now that he's in exactly that moment, things start to feel real.

"I love you." He almost whispers into your neck while he starts to move. "I'm.. so grateful you're here." He tells you, hips moving at a steady pace. "I want you to.. stay forever." He almost asks, in a way, and while you can't give him an answer to that right now, you probably will later.

After you're back with the normal thinking human beings, because right now, with his pace and strength gaining as he chases his high, your head is definitely unable to form thoughts.

In a way, he loves the sight of you like this. It's awfully sinful, a sight only he wants to ever be able to see, no one else.

He can't control his own noises at this point, uncaring of his groans of pleasure as he chases after his peak, noticing you growing antsy as well, visibly eager to cum as well. And he will make sure you'll get your attention as well- he'd never let you down, ever.

And with his hand reaching in between you both to find where he needs to be, you're gone and out; head thrown back into the pillows while he pushes himself in deep, condom filling with his seed while he slows down into almost no movement at all.

Catching his breath, he leans down to you to kiss you once more, ticking of his clock on the bedside table coming back into the background noise, as well as the cars outside from the opened window, and your breathing underneath him. His senses return one by one as he pulls himself out, moving to get rid of the condom and start the shower.

"Come on." He asks, tapping your thigh, but you just whine all grumpy at him. "Noo get up, get up- the bed's all messy and we're too.!" He laughs, all energized from his own afterglow, while you seem to be the exact opposite, having to be physically pulled into a sitting position by your wrists. Jungkook himself can't help but simply laugh, before he takes matters into his own hands, lifting you up over his shoulder-

And of course, landing a loud smack onto your butt for good measure.

[disneyprincemuke]

dancing with your ghost * cl16

the ghost of your relationship lingers in your old apartment, reminding you of what's lost

pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader

notes: today, i got an anon ask asking if i was allergic to happiness so this one is dedicated to u babes,, i'm doubling down

(f1 masterlist)

there is something different about the air in the kitchen when you walk in. your heart hits the floor. it takes a minute to realise why you’ve avoided this room the entire time you’ve been back home in new york.

upon your move to los angeles to kickstart your career, you’d left the apartment vacant until you were ready to face the truth. that you’d now fallen out of the relationship you once poured your entire self into.

you rest your head on the door frame, watching your entire relationship unfold in visions in this tiny apartment, once shared with the person you now know nothing about.

you stood over the counter and charles held you from behind with his chin resting on your shoulder. “please be careful,” he hummed sweetly, “the knife is so big and we can’t have another er trip. we can’t afford it.”

you laughed and threw your head back on his shoulder. you looked up at him with an overwhelming warmth in your chest. “well, it would be hard to make dinner with a smaller knife,” you giggled along with him.

charles pressed a tender kiss on your shoulder before he pulled away. you remember looking over your shoulder as you chased for his warmth — you’d never gotten used to the cold of new york — and he just smiled at you as he poured himself a glass of water. “i just don’t want you to get hurt.”

his smile reached his eyes and at the time, you knew that he clearly felt the same way. you often wonder when that started to change.

when did he start lying when he’d say he loves you, or when did the spark in his eyes when looking at you disappear? had you truly been so blind to not notice that he started to spite you eventually?

you remember the kitchen used to be the brightest room in your apartment, always complaining about how hard it was to cook once the sun had set. one day, charles made his way out and got you white lights to ease your difficulty.

you look at it now and it is barely recognisable. two out of the five lights are no longer working and one flickers above your head.

you can hear echoes of giggling in the back of your head. you turn around and your attention is immediately caught by the piano at the far end of the room. you hear the melodies hang in the air like they’d always been stuck there, cursed to never be heard by the masses after you’d pushed it into a box in your mind.

you drag your feet over to the piano, dimly lit by one of the salt lamps you and charles had gotten at a market one sleepless night. you lift the cover with a sigh. you run your fingers over the keys carefully, as if afraid that it would crumble along with the bittersweet memories of hours spent sitting in the seat that came with it.

charles found you sitting here on one of your sleepless nights, aimlessly playing around with a melody that had been bugging you all day. you laughed when you noticed him stalking you from the small crack of your bedroom door pulled open.

“i’m sorry,” you frowned, “did i wake you with all of this?”

“no,” he shook his head with a smile and his arms folded over his chest. he walked over to you. “please, don’t let me interrupt. i loved that.”

you sighed and slumped your shoulders as a blush crept up your cheeks. “that’s all i currently have. i’ve been stuck here all day.”

he hummed and rested his arms on your shoulders and bore his eyes onto the monotonous keys of the piano you shared. “you say that all the time, but you eventually figure it out.”

“can you help me?” you prompted. you lifted your fingers from the keys and wrapped them around his hands, turning slightly to press a kiss to the back of his hand. “you’re the only one i trust that wouldn’t ruin the melody.”

“my help with another song?” he teased, scrunching his nose. “i might have to start charging you for my services.”

you laughed as he squeezed himself next to you in the tiny seat. composing melodies with charles wasn’t a foreign practice, spending most of your sleepless nights sitting around the piano as you try to spurt lyrics out to match a melody.

you almost start to feel bad for your neighbours who had to endure several nights of this behaviour. hushed giggles under the influence of wine with poorly composed melodies begging to be put to rest with your string of words.

“i was thinking something like this to continue would be good,” charles hummed, wrapping an arm around you to get to the further end of the piano.

on the top of the piano and a pile of sheet music with tiny doodles in different coloured ink. you pick it up with a smile, a work-in-progress title is written in big block letters in charles’s handwriting with a small heart in the corner.

you remember well working on this song together. you wonder if that was when it started to all fall apart. if that was when charles had started growing to slightly despise you.

you start to go sift through the pile of papers. all of these songs will probably never see the light of day — even thinking of them just hurt — except for that one song.

that one song that started playing on the radio after you’d released it with crossed fingers and all of the hope in the world. you turn around and look at the living room, remembering the way you’d scrambled to move the furniture around when you heard a familiar melody filling the empty air of your apartment.

charles had insisted you celebrate with a mini dance party.

he pushed the table and the couch back, grabbing your hand as he started moving to the beat. though, you could argue that a ballad is not the type of song you throw your head back and dance along to.

but he somehow made it possible.

the million versions of that song only exist in your head and hopefully his: the ballad, the pop, the alternate version and the version with the different set of lyrics.

you can then suddenly hear the slamming of doors the night that things started to blow up. you hated it — you remember thinking that you could change his mind as he packed his things into a bag. not all of his things, which is what frustrates you even more to this day.

he could have at least shown you some decency by taking all of his things after having decided that he can’t do it anymore. you look around the living room and there are still remnants of charles everywhere.

his reason? he despises the success you’ve managed to find without him; the new world you’ve seemingly built and left him behind. and because of it, he finds it difficult not to be jealous of you — to not hate you.

it still stings to this day.

“i don’t love you anymore,” charles said in a tired sigh after your back-and-forth screaming. “i didn’t want to have to say it, but it seems like that’s the only thing that will put a stop to this.”

“to what?” you asked, hearing your heart shatter in your chest.

“to you asking me to stay! i don’t want to stay!” he explained with a dry laugh. he watched as tears filled your eyes as you slowly processed his words. “i tried to see if it was a mistake that i feel this way, but i can’t… i– i don’t love you anymore.”

it was difficult to climb as an aspiring classical musician. it’s such a niche market that watching your career, as a popstar, made it difficult to not let the resentment get the best of him.

charles had reached out a few weeks ago, through his personal assistant, inquiring if you’d ever release the songs you’d written together. he’d received a simple no from you personally, written with a bitter scoff while you sipped on some seltzer after a concert.

you wonder if he would do anything with the arrangements you’d spent creating together.

you see the ghost of your relationship tangled on the couch, sickeningly lost in the magic of the early stages of your time together.

“we’re going to make it,” charles whispered in your ear as he mimicked a sign with his hands. “you’ll be performing sold-out concerts, releasing music that people want to hear… and i’ll be the idiot at the sideline watching you like a lovesick fool.”

“no,” you laughed, shaking your head. “you’ll be my classical musician boyfriend. the best of its kind, better than mozart, perhaps?”

“nonsense!”

that had turned to you sitting on opposite ends of the couch with your head in your hands. charles sat in silence with his staggered breathing taking over the room.

“i’m sorry,” he sighed. “i didn’t want it to end this way.”

“i just don’t understand,” you croaked out, your voice cracking, “you said you loved me this morning when i left the apartment. so, you lied.”

charles dropped his head. “i still do, but… with the way it’s going… it’s not ending well.”

and that’s the last conversation you had with him. he’d left your shared apartment shortly after that, taking your prolonged silence as a cue for him to leave.

he’s dead to you now, along with all of the bittersweet memories you’d spent together in this very apartment. which is what you’d flown back to new york for — to pack it all up and get your things. you’re finally letting the apartment go along with all of the hatred you’ve got for charles.

taglist: @33-81 @darleneslane @localwhoore @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @c-losur3

[strwberri-milk]

Heyyy💟

Since your ask is open I was wondering if you can write a fic with the same concept as your "Finding Mc and leaving you" but for Zayne or Xavier? I'm a sucker for angst 😭

unfortunately xavier like. of the three i see him just not being able to date ANYBODY else but mc. tbvh i dont see ANY of them getting into realtionships but rafayel i think of it as like. release for him and just stright copium while dating someone and using them as a substitution for mc, zayne dates someone bc he thinks its 1) what hes supposed to do and 2) hes too dangerous to be around you and 3) doesnt think you return his feelings anyway whereas xavier is just a cryptid and idt you can make slenderman date anybody if he didnt want to so his is. a little diff than the other two

You met Zayne during med school. He was so singularly focused on his career that you don't even know how everything happened. You were somehow lucky enough to find him when he was free, confessing that somehow, over the sessions he was tutoring you for as review for his own lessons, you fell in love with him. You had a good feeling that he wouldn't reciprocate your feelings but you just wanted to confess to him to say you did your best.

Surprisingly, he accepts and manages to carve out some time for you to go on a date. The entire ordeal almost seems transactional at first and you're worried he said yes only to let you down easily during the date. Somehow, one date turns to another date, then a third, then suddenly you find yourself in a committed relationship with Dr. Zayne, the youngest Cardiac Surgeon in Linkon City.

He chose not to speak too often about his childhood, telling you that he grew up in the same way everyone did. Sometimes, he'd mention a childhood friend that he had and that she often came to visit him as he was her primary physician for her heart condition. You never worried about her and had often run into her while meeting up with him after work. She had always been nothing but kind to you so you never would suspect anything.

Zayne was always kind of reserved around you but you never had to doubt that he cared for you. It's not until you're talking to your friends who are starting to get married or discussing their own relationships that somehow, the two of you just fell into a routine. Zayne was never affectionate with you but he always returned your affection. He remembers your birthday and anniversaries and always gets you the sweetest gifts. You know he's looking out for you but you get the sense that things aren't...this isn't what you want in a romantic relationship.

You ask him if he sees the relationship going anywhere, if there's any shared goals that the two of you want to work towards together or if you even make him happy. He's glad you're being honest with him but he asks you what brought it about and you have to confess that your friends seemed so much happier in their relationships whereas it felt like the two of you had grown stagnant. Hell the two of you don't even live together, moving in being something you had waited to bring up to him.

After a lengthy discussion and few days for the two of you to sit with the decision you end up having to break up. You aren't getting what you want out of a relationship with him and somehow, you know that you aren't making him as happy as he deserves.

You're glad you don't work at the same hospital at him but a year later you're invited to an event at his hospital. You're over him, for the most part, at this point but your heart still aches a little at the sight of him. On his arm is that friend of his, holding him tightly as she kisses his cheek in congratulations of whatever it was you were invited for. You know now as you watch them he never loved you as much as he loved her and for your peace of mind you decide to leave it at at that.

Xavier was an enigma. The two of you had been dating just a few months when suddenly everything changed. You were planning a date with him when he apologised for cancelling, saying that a new hunter at work needed his help and he was going to stay late to help her out.

You couldn't do anything really except realise that Xavier was cancelling more and more on you. You knew he felt bad because he'd call you or text you an apology but it seemed more like he was doing it out of obligation. You don't think he's cheating on you with her because even if you randomly called or texted him he'd always pick up and was open about where he was - he just wasn't there, with you like you wanted him to be.

He breaks up with you fairly quickly after that and it doesn't take you long to put two and two together. You followed some of his colleagues on social media and out of desperation starting stalking all of them to see if he was cheating on you. Once you found that the page of that new hunter he was working with you thought you'd find your smoking gun, only to be sorely disappointed.

She posted about him occasionally but everything was purely platonic. She never commented on anything he posted romantically and he didn't for her. It's not until months later that you see her post something about a first date with him, forced to come to terms that he didn't technically cheat on you but clearly he fell in love with her far sooner than he fell into like with you.

[masonmount-vii]

It'll Make Sense One Day

Part Two

april eighteenth

You glance at your phone to look at the time as the book you've been reading lands on the duvet.

It's one am

You don't have to be up until nine, but you figure that you should probably get some sleep, anyway.

When you look at your phone screen again, you notice that you have two new messages which are from Tinder, both from guys you have matched with.

Sighing, you tap on the screen to launch the app, and see that both a Jake and Mason have messaged you.

Hey! The one from Jake says.

Funny seeing you here ;), the one from Mason reads.

A shiver runs down your spine as you click on his profile.

Chocolate brown eyes, charming smile.

How did you manage to swipe on your high school best friend and not even know?

'What do i even say?' You wonder, knowing that you have to reply.

You don't want to, especially not with the way you and Mason ended your friendship, but you also didn't think that you would ever talk to him again.

The Mount family had moved next door when you were six and Mason was seven. At first, you were acquaintances, but that didn't last long. Soon enough, you both were inseparable, spending all your time outside of school together, talking on the phone when you weren't in the same place.

As high school started, you had begun to notice how Mason would fluster whenever you talked to him whenever your friends were around, but whenever it was just you two, he was completely fine, laughing and joking with you. You had never brought it up yo him, as you didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable or even worst case scenario distance himself but that had happened anyways.

Or, at one of your friends birthday party, there had been a dance floor, and you only really wanted to dance with Mason. You eventually insisted that you should dance with your other friends too.

"Just to be fair, Mase," you remember your little young self whispering, not noticing the expression that passed across his face, one that suggested he would rather leave the party altogether than dance with someone who wasn't you.

"Right, yeah, makes sense," Mason had mumbled as he let go of you. You couldn't help but be disappointed as he went off to dance with someone else, even though you had suggested it in the first place.

By the end of the school year, you were convinced you were in love with him.

Anytime he would look at you, butterflies would kickstart in your stomach, or you'd blush unnecessarily at anything and everything he had said.

As all of her friends shared their stories of their first kisses or first boyfriends, you would sit and think about what it would be like to date Mason, or kiss him, at the very least.

Then, weeks before you started year eleven, he told you that he would have to move to kickstart his football career.

"I'm sorry i didn't tell you sooner," he had confessed one Saturday night, while you were sat on the step outside your house, watching the time creep closer to your curfew. "i just didn't know how. It's such a big decision, and i didn't want to tell you until it was all sorted, but you know you can always visit me. You understand though, right? You're like my sister Y/N. You'll always be in my life, you know?"

You didn't know. The words my sister tumbled around in your brain as you tried to make sense of them. You didn't know what to say, but the words i've liked you for a long time were on the tip of your tongue.

You were so close to saying it right then, but instead you chewed on the inside of your cheek while inspecting your nails, two nervous habits that you felt like you needed to break. "Why are you telling me now? Why not just not tell me at all and leave me to figure it out for myself?"

Mason had been speechless, staring open-mouthed at you as if he couldn't believe you had actually said that. (You couldn't believe it, either.) While he sat there, you whispered a 'goodbye' as you saw that there was only one minute until your curfew, and it wasn't until the next morning that you had realised that he hadn't said it back.

You didn't talk to him for the rest of the school holidays. You hardly saw him, except for when your brother, Liam used to go to football practice with him and you used to go along with your mum to watch him. You would see Mason getting into his Mum's car at the same time. Mason would wave to Liam while you avoided eye contact.

Your mum brought you a journal for your birthday, and you wrote in it until you poured your heart out onto the pages, only stopping when there wasn't any more room to write.

You were sure that this was what a broken heart felt like; messy and unclear. There was some days that you wanted to talk to Mason, just because you couldn't believe this is how your friendship ended.

You thought many times about patching things up over the rest of holidays before Mason goes away, but then you would see him around with a girl, at the movies or a fancy restaurant where your sister worked.

You came to learn, through friends, that his girlfriends name was Georgina, and they were pretty serious. One morning you saw getting in the car with rest of his family, driving away when the time finally came for him to move. You stayed in a slump all day, you at least thought your friendship meant more and he would say goodbye before moving but you thought wrong. "I don't understand why you won't just talk to him." Your sister, Millie had said not without rolling her eyes, as she thought this was a stupid way to end a friendship.

The fact that Mason was gone had made it easier for her to admit the reason for her radio silence towards him. When you were done talking, you had expected Millie to start laughing (or worse, force you to call him), but all your older sister did was give you a hug and say that she understood. It was hard for her to see her little sister upset.

Then, as time went on, you had passed your GCSE'S done your A-Levels and now you were moving away from home to start university and you didn't hear from Mason or about him.

He and Georgina eventually broke up, and you had almost reached out to him, apologise for being an overdramatic teenager, but something had stopped you.

Now, your phone buzzes again, snapping you out of your thoughts.

Sorry if that message came off a little strong.

Mason, apologising for something as simple as a possible misinterpreted text.

The irony of him apologising to you when you thought you should be apologising isn't lost on you.

You don't know how to respond, so you don't; instead, you plug your phone in, set it on your bedside table, and fell asleep.

You alarm rings at exactly eight o' clock the next morning, and you reluctantly sit up, sighing.

The first thing you see when you look at your phone is the unanswered text from Mason, and you know you should just answer it.

It's nearly been ten years, you need to get over it, you tell yourself.

You are over it, you think. you haven't thought about Mason in a long, long time, and you only had today since you'd matched with him on Tinder without knowing how. There's a part of you that still wants to be friend with him.

So, you respond with a simple ‘it’s been a while, how are you?’ before doing your morning routine and heading off to work.

Whilst at work, all you can think about is how you wish you never stopped talking to Mason just because he was moving away and didn’t tell you. You should’ve been proud of him, that he’s finally going to do what he loves most and what he’s passionate about but you were so stuck in your own feelings you didn’t think about how the way you reacted could’ve possibly hurt him too. You should’ve been there for him.

It’s not like he told you a day before; he let you know once he was certain it was happening, and yet you were still upset about it, exactly as he feared you would be. Mason didn’t know you were in love with him at the time. How could he? You didn’t show your emotions as easily as he did back then, and now, nearly ten years later, you regret that.

You get home a few hours later to see a new message from Mason, but instead of replying, you scroll through your contacts, hoping that you still have the number you’re looking for.

To your surprise, your brokenhearted, fifteen year old self hadn’t thought to erase your best friends number from your contacts, and you’re relieved to see the same number has stayed there through various phones over the years.

“Hello?” Mason answers, and you aren’t prepared for the emotions that suddenly hit you in an overwhelming wave.

“Hi,” you whisper back, feeling tears rising behind your eyes, “I thought…well, I thought I might aswell call you.”

“Y/N?” He breathes out in disbelief, “It’s been, what, ten years almost?”

“Something like that.”

“How….how are you doing? I didn’t realise you still had my number.”

“I didn’t either, honestly. I’m doing well, I just got home from work. What about you?”

“I’ve been at training, but I got home not that long ago.”

An awkward silence follows. You feel like you suddenly don’t remember how to talk.

“Listen, Y/N, I’m really sorry about what-” he starts, but you interrupt him.

“Mason, we both know that if anyone should be apologising for what happened nine and a half years ago to put it precisely, it’s me. So, I’m sorry. I know it wasn’t fair to just let you leave and not explain myself. The truth is, well..”

Here goes nothing.

You take a deep breath, hearing nothing in the other end.

“I liked you. As more than friends.”

More silence.

It stretches on for so long that you begin to think he hung up.

And then.

“Oh.”

“At the time!” You were quick to reassure him in the thick awkwardness that’s grown between the two of you, “I know, I know you were with Georgina at the time, and I couldn’t, didn’t want to, get in the way of that. Not to mention that you were moving anyways so it wouldn’t have worked between us. Not that that’s bad. It is what it is. I just had to figure out how I was going to piece my broken heart back together.”

You take a deep breath after you’re done talking, and when he doesn’t answer you straight away, you fight the urge to hang up the phone.

“It’s okay,” Mason says eventually, and it takes a second for you to calm down, “As long as you’re not, you know, still in love with me.”

It’s a joke, you realise after a second has already passed, and then you let out a laugh that sounds fake even to your own ears.

“No, I’m not. That would be ridiculous, Mason. I haven’t talked to you in almost ten years, and I think we have a lot to talk about,” you reply.

“Yeah, I’d like that. Maybe we could meet for a coffee next Saturday? You don’t work on Saturday’s, do you?”

You answer almost immediately. “Nope.”

“I’ll see you on Saturday, Y/N. I’m really looking forward to it.”

“Me too, Mase.”

There’s slight smile in his voice as he hangs up, and you’re just left staring at your phone, wondering what the hell you had just agreed to.

-

Thank you so much for reading, I’m hoping you’ll continue to stick around 💓 next part will be 30/08/2024!

[waitmyturtles]

I've Caught Up With Wandee Goodday, and here are some cons and pros (aka, am I ever burnt out on GMMTV)

HELLO. I'm back temporarily from my summer travels (before I travel again!). I was in Thailand! I should have brought a box of chappals to chuck at the GMMTV building for where Wandee Goodday has gone. Anyway, I need to process my thoughts on this show, so here we go. (And I apologize, I have NOT looked at the tag for this show, so I don't know if I'm repeating what other people are saying here.)

PROS

CONS

1) This show had so much brainrot potential! Remember the first, like, four episodes? Potential homophobia in multiple workplaces? Delicious bisexuality? Ace storylines??? Wandee's PUTZ deception and manipulation? Yak going along with it, why?? There was a lot going on here, a lot we could have chewed on.

I've been sitting on my historical review of Golf Tanwarin's The Eclipse for my Old GMMTV Challenge for about two months now because I can't get over how pissed I was that that show took some unnecessary, and frankly insensible, turns in part to showcase the damn center ship of First and Khao. I don't think Golf's WG has taken similar turns specifically to center the GreatInn ship, per se -- I just think the writing got messy and lazy right before WG's midpoint in general, and punched a lot of the excitement I had about the show right before I paused around episode 8.

Wandee Goodday is an EXCELLENT example of how Thailand's hourlong QL dramas could be made INCREDIBLY more impactful, by way of forced editing and clarity, if Thailand could follow Japan's suit by making 10- to 12-episode series with 30-minute episodes.

The Dr. Ter storyline was over before it actually, really ended, in, what episode was that, 9 or 10. It was over! Why drag it out? In Japan, that storyline would have been two episodes, mayyybe three, MAX. Shirasu Jin was barely in Kieta Hatsukoi for an episode before he was banished. Takeda Kouhei barely made it through two episodes of Minato's Laundromat 2 before he went bye bye! We don't need these middling dudes. There was enough happening with Dee and Yak to not need this Ter shit! Sorry, LOVE YOU PODD, but Ter was made irrelevant so early on, and then they actually had to work together on a huge case?! And NOW HE'S CHEESING ON TAEM? Like, no. We don't need this.

2) There's still a lot of confusion and conflict between Dee and Yak by last week's episode 11. Dee's got issues receiving love! This is big.

(By the way. Showing Dee ONE video of his parents cheesing on him as a newborn is NOT THE WAY to explain away future parental neglect as an older child. YIKES.)

I love that Yak wants to invest in Dee, and we do see Dee doing a lot of reciprocating there to Yak, but this parental neglect reveal, along with still not knowing enough about the back story of Dee's parents dying, is out of order and not helpful to me getting enough knowledge about Dee for me to feel a holistic sympathy towards him. This makes me wonder if romance is really Golf Tanwarin's bag: if Golf didn't have to focus so much on the DeeYak/YakDee romance, could we have gotten better emotional representations of these guys, gotten a better picture of WHO THEY ARE, before they got into each other? Maybe? I dunno.

3) Considering that homophobia in systems seems to be a theme that Golf is interested in, why did the show drop Yak's concern about being out vis à vis his boxing career? Showing up at the hospital early on, in front of Ter's people, was already a big risk that wasn't given consideration; and now Dee's gone ahead and put the big pre-match smooch on full display by episode 11! I know Yak's gone full tilt for Dee, but I think we needed to put a bow on Yak's early macro-level concerns about being out for that loop to be closed.

[I feel like I have similar concerns here about 23.5 as well, so I'd like GMMTV to know (REMEMBER BAD BUDDY????) that you can have romance and big social commentary in a show at the same time without sacrificing lovely, intimate moments. Neither 23.5 nor Wandee Goodday needed to scrap heavy emotional moments for social media memeable clickbait.]

TL;DR this show, this script, could have been so good, there was so much there by way of storylines.

ANY FUCKING WAY.

PROS

1)

I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS SHOW WENT HERE WITH THOR. THIS IS DISSONANCE, THIS IS CONFUSING! THIS IS MAGNIFICENT.

And the follow-up scene with the FABULOUS Fluke Nattanon. Fucking Thor. He's so good. They're so wasted in this show!

2) Great Sapol and Inn Sarin. There's a con here: the elephant pants do nothing for Great's butt. But otherwise, Great, and Inn as well, are DELIGHTS. THEY ARE GOOD ACTORS. They are wasted on this script. I hope they never work together on a GMMTV show again. If they're ever paired again (which I hope they're NOT, down with the ships), I hope they can get cast in a big ol' queer lakorn, à la JamFilm, and escape the need for the meme moments.

The thing is, about Wandee Goodday, is that if you admit you're into the show FOR THE DUDES, then I get why this show is watchable (AND IT'S WHY I'M FINISHING IT, GODDAMNIT), because the actual intimate moments ARE lovely. They're just not coherent with everything that we should know about these guys by the end of a series, and that makes me sad.

Anyway, this show ends this week, and that's it! I wish GMMTV's shop had had the WG items in stock when I was there in person; fuck these shipping fees, I want the Phadetseuk shirt so bad! If I had known this would be a kind of light and fluffy watch, I would have set my expectations WAAAYYY differently, and I would have likely had a better time watching this. As it stands now, I'm better suited to enjoy the finale, so I'm glad I got these complaints out of my system, and I'll say sayonara to all these dudes in full ogle mode later this week.

[forever-rogue]

Hiiii 🐻

What about an Eddie fic where they are at an award show nominated in the same category but they are exs. They ended things because right person wrong time type of deal. His career took off and hers was in the early stages.

And he wins the award and spots her in the crowd

Link for reference

https://www.tiktok.com/@editsmcu/video/7045316909562219782?lang=en

AN | I changed the prompt just a little but I hope y’all enjoy! 🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Modern!Rockstar!Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.7k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"He's going to be there, you know," the soft tone of her voice caused you to look up from your phone as you caught her eye in the mirror. Your grip around your phone tightened as her expression turned doe-eyed, "Eddie. His band is nominated for a few awards."

You knew that, of course you did. You wouldn't admit that you still closely kept up with what was going on with him. But, despite the fact that you'd broken up almost a year ago, you still cared deeply for him. 

"Oh," you swallowed the thick lump that had welled up in your throat, trying to keep the tears at bay, "well, that's alright. These things will continue to happen and I'll just have to learn to deal with it."

"You'll be okay?" She finished up your hair and settled her gentle hands on your shoulders. She gave you a tender squeeze as you nodded, "if you need anything, you can always text or call me. I'm not your hairdresser but your friend too, and I'm here for you."

"I'll be alright," you promised, heart constricting at the kindness she displayed, "I'll just have to learn how to deal."

"You'll do great, my love," her smile was gentle, "you're solid gold and one day you'll find exactly what you're looking for."

What if you had lost what you had been looking for?

"Thank you."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Eddie was sprawled on the couch in the studio, scrolling endlessly through his social media. A heavy sigh escaped his lips despite his best efforts; he was feeling a type of way he couldn’t quite explain. It wasn’t bored or tired or…anything really, just sort of down. 

“Hey man,” Jeff sat down at the opposite end of the couch causing Eddie to lift his head in question, “I just heard that umm…well, she is going to be there tomorrow night.”

Eddie tried not to let his face light up entirely but it was hard not to perk up at even the smallest mention of you. His heart ached as he pictured your face; it had been so long since he’d even seen you in person. To put it quite frankly, it sucked. 

“Oh?” He tried to keep his voice as nonchalant as possible but even he could hear the curiosity in his voice, “how did you find that out?”

“Seth told me,” ah. Of course their manager would know all about that, “wonder why she’s going. She’s not even a musician, just an actor…maybe she’s someone’s date or something…”

“Date?” and yeah he almost choked on that singular word. The idea of you going on a date made anger bubble in his blood, “you don’t seriously think that she’s dating someone, do you?”

“I dunno man,” Jeff shrugged lightly, “I mean…you were the one that broke up with her. And it’s been almost a year. She's going to date someone else eventually."

"I know!" He snapped, rubbing his tired face with his hands. Jeff recoiled slightly from Eddie's sudden sharpness. He knew that you were still a sore subject for him and he'd hope to negate any bad feelings by warning him that you'd be there. But now he was wondering if he'd made a mistake - maybe Eddie wouldn't even have noticed you.

"I'm sorry, Ed. You'll be alright," he offered him a tight lipped smile, "and it'll be over before we know it."

"Yeah," he replied dismissively, raking a hand through his messy curls, "let's fucking hope so."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"You look amazing."

You studied yourself intently in the mirror, staring at the dark pink dress that you were currently sporting. Your mind had immediately drifted to wondering if Eddie would have liked your dress. He always enjoyed the fact that you were so opposite of him. Sunshine and rain, he'd always said, balancing each other out.

So much for that. But you tried not to dwell on the past. You'd already given into the fact that you would ever be completely over him. A part of your heart would always belong to him.

"Thanks," you smiled but it didn't quite reach your eyes. You were nervous going to the awards show tonight, even if you were just going to accompany one of your friends. 

Your stylist touched up your hair and set your makeup before letting you go. After you slipped on your heels and waited for your ride, you couldn't help but go on to IG and scroll through photos of the red carpet to see who had already arrived. 

Everything was fine until you reached a post that caused your heart to almost stop. There was Eddie, looking as gorgeous as ever, standing on the red carpet with the rest of his band members. You'd be lying if you said you weren't relieved to see that he didn't have a date.

Not that it mattered. Of course not. It was all peaches and he could do whatever he wanted. Even if it would break your heart a little further.

"Your chariot has arrived ," you looked up when you saw Angelica walk through the door. You let out a sigh of relief when you saw her standing there, looking as amazing as you hoped you did too, "ready to go?"

"Yup," you grabbed your bag and walked over to her but you could tell that something was on her mind, "what's wrong?"

"I…Gareth texted me a little while ago. They're already all there," she gave your shoulder as a squeeze. You appreciated all the concern but it really wasn't helping. It would have been preferable to just have everyone ignore the blatant obviousness that Eddie would be there.

"It's fine," you insisted softly, "really. I'd rather just not worry about it at all. It is what it is; he broke up with me and that's it."

"Babe-"

"Seriously," you took her hand and squeezed it gently, "let's just go and have fun."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

One of the many wonderful things about Eddie was that he didn’t really care what anyone thought of him. Even as a world famous rockstar, he couldn’t really be bothered to worry about that. So he didn’t worry about the way he looked around the crowd, blatantly obvious as he scanned the sea of people for you. Unabashed and unashamed as ever. 

Just when he’d almost given up, he found you. Clear across the room, looking stunning as ever and sitting among your friends. He knew them all and he knew that you wouldn’t be anyone’s date, not like that anyway, and that served to put him at ease. A silly, dopey little smile tugged up the corner of his mouth. 

But then he remembered - you weren’t his. Not anymore and more than likely never again. 

“You gonna keep staring all night?” Eddie’s cheeks pinked as he turned his gaze away and back to Jeff, “you couldn’t be anymore obvious!”

“Shut up,” Eddie hissed as he shifted in his seat so he couldn’t look at you as easily, “it was just one look.”

“Mhmm,” he raised an eyebrow and pulled up his phone, showing Eddie a few articles that had already popped up. All about the two of you - speculation that this meant that the two of you were back together or fans attempting to manifest it, “you’re only going to make it worse.”

Eddie folded his arms across his chest and shrugged, “it’ll be fine. Let’s just hope this night goes fast.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A few hours had passed, in relative ease and peace, and you were relieved to know that it was almost over. Then you could go home, have a hot bath with a glass of wine, and get some much needed sleep. 

But then the award that Eddie’s band was nominated for was announced. You listened to the announcer rattle off the nominees, heart beating wildly in your chest as you hoped that he didn’t win. It was so incredibly selfish, you knew that much, but it was just all too much at once. 

Corroded Coffin won, which didn’t really didn’t come as a surprise to you or anyone else. It was a well deserved and hard fought win, and you knew it should have been them. You clapped along with everyone around you, watching the stage closely as the guys walked on, with Eddie coming up last. Suddenly it seemed like he was the only one in the room and you couldn’t take your eyes off him. He looked good, but worst of all he still looked just like Eddie. 

He hung back as the rest of the band all spoke, but you could see him scanning the crowd. When it was finally his turn, he laughed nervously before looking out into the audience and somehow managing to find you. His eyes looked with yours as a small gasp escaped your lips. You knew that he was aware that he was staring right at you. A smile spread on his face, easy and soft just like the one he’d blessed you with so many times. Despite everything that had happened you couldn’t help but smile back at him. 

It didn’t matter what he was saying, you were only vaguely away of it, the moment was all that mattered. People scattered throughout the audience seemed to catch onto what was happening; you could hear them tittering about and looking at you and back at Eddie. It made your face warm up but none of that mattered. The moment belonged solely to you and Eddie. 

Unfortunately it was over much too soon for your liking and the boys were herded off stage. You turned your attention back to the table and you could feel the silent questions being thrown your way. Ignoring them all you grabbed your glasses and chugged down the rest of the champagne. 

What a series of unfortunate, or perhaps fortunate, events.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After it was all said and done and you were ready to head home, insisting on taking a cab so and skipping the afterparty, much to Angelica’s dismay, you made your way out of the building, heels in hand. It was quiet here and allowed you a few moments to breathe and absorb all that happened. 

Then you heard your name being called out. Urgently and loudly, in a voice you’d heard so many times before. You had two options - keep walking and pretend you hadn’t heard or didn’t care, or face him. You knew which one you wanted, long before the opportunity had even presented itself. 

You turned around and found Eddie running towards you, his curls bouncing wildly. He didn’t stop until he was right in front of you, attempting to catch his breath. 

“Eddie?” your voice was small, so soft he almost didn’t hear it. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach, “what are you doing here?”

“You,” he said softly as your expression turned doe-eyed; that look always made him look weak in the knees, “miss you - had to see you.”

“You missed me?” he nodded, taking a last gasping breath before straightening up and looked at you.Your brain felt like it was turning to much as you tried to process everything taht was going, “what do you mean?”

“I fucked up,” he shrugged and threw up his arms in exasperation. He was so mad at himself for ever letting you go, “I fucked up and I lost and I just…I really fucking miss you.”

“Eddie, you’re the one that broke up with me,” you blinked back tears as he ran a hand through his messy curls, “but now you miss me?”

“I should never have broken up with you,” he shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping those plush lips you so desperately missed kissing, “biggest mistake ever.”

“Then why did you?”

“I…I thought I was doing the right thing,” he explained, “I thought I was going enough for you and with things really taking off with the band, it felt like I didn’t have enough time for you and didn’t treat you the way you deserve to be treated. It seemed like the right thing at the time. I figured that maybe you would fine someone that deserves you but honestly, I really hate the fucking idea of anyone else having you.”

“Oh. Oh,” the realization crashed over you like ice cold waves, “well, I admit the idea behind breaking up with me was admirable, but deciding how I felt wasn’t exactly your choice. I never thought you weren’t good enough or didn’t give me enough of you. Eddie, I was so in love with you, nothing else mattered. We could have figured things out together - we always have. I never wanted anyone else, and no one even crossed my mind. Even now, almost a year later.”

“Really?” he choked on his question, feeling his own eyes start to burn with tears.

“Yeah,” you promised him, reaching over to give his arm a gentle squeeze, “it’s getting late. I should head home.”

“Ba - wait-”

“It was good to see you,” and you meant it. It was good to see him, and hear him out, and maybe it would serve as a bit of closure. You tried to walk away, but he held onto your hand and gently kept you from walking away, “Eddie?”

“Wait, just,” he stammered as he tried to format even a coherent sentence, “I-I love you. I’m still in love with you, I never stopped. Fuck, I don’t ever want anyone else. No one, just you.”

“Eddie-”

“Give me another chance,” those words made your mouth drop open as you blinked at him a few times, “please. I’ll do anything, just…don’t walk away. I don’t deserve another chance, and I’m an asshole, I know that. But please…one chance is all I’m asking for. I don’t think that this is the end of our story, I think that we’re-”

You caught him by surprise, cutting off his rambling by taking his face in your hands and pressing your lips to his. It was the first time you’d kissed him in so long, but it still felt so right, so magically wonderful. His large, warm hands settled on your waist as he pulled you into him and continued to kiss you deeply. 

Neither of you were willing to break apart until you were both left dizzied and breathless. He pressed his forehead to yours, a smile dancing on his lips as you exchanged soft chuckles. 

“You’re an idiot, Eddie Munson,” you whispered before pressing a kiss to his lips, “but you’re my idiot. And I think you’re right…”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve never thought about anyone else but you either,” that made his entire face light up with happiness, “and I think you and I have a very long story ahead of us.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yes,” you promised, “you’re it for me, rockstar. You always have been and will be.”

“Baby,” he let out a slow breath, feeling like he was able to properly breathe for the first time in a long time. He took your face and peppering it in kisses, causing you to giggle at the ticklish sensation, “let me take you on a date. Let’s go right now.”

“It’s almost one in the morning-” 

“And our favorite diner is open 24/7,” and yeah. You were in love with this fool, “and I don’t know about you but I’m starving. The little bits of fancy food they served were definitely not enough. Whaddaya say?”

“Let’s go,” you moved to slip your heels back on but Eddie stopped. He kneeled down and motioned for you to get on his back; you laughed but did so nonetheless, climbing onto his back as he held onto your heels. You pressed a kiss to his shoulder before closing your eyes and inhaling his familiar scent, “I love you, Eddie.”

“I love you too, baby. So fuckin’ much.”

[mimicmimikyuwrites]

Good Enough - Edward Nashton (The Riddler) x Fem!Reader

Summary: Edward has never felt good enough for anyone or anything. When the self-help resources fail to work and the feelings of inadequacy grow stronger by the day, he begins to doubt that he's even worthy of being loved, but you're there to comfort him and remind him of just how much he matters.

Contents/Possible Warnings: Minor spoilers for Riddler: Year One, a lot of angst, hurt with comfort, fluff, mentions of smut (but no actual smut)

Repulsive. Broken. Unwanted. Not good enough. The words he told himself had buried their way into his thoughts, repeating themselves like a twisted mantra that never ended, even with the constant use of every self-help tip and coping skill he had learned. That same mantra had been there so long that he couldn't remember when it had first started.

Maybe it was never something new at any point; maybe it was just the truth that he kept trying to deny with ledgers filled line to line with positive affirmations that he could never convince himself of. 'You are good enough.' No, he wasn't. He never would be. He was fighting a losing battle against himself.

At least at the end of the day, he had someone to come back home to, someone who told him every day how much she loved him. Before he had met you his only form of salvation was his puzzles, like it had always been since he was a young child. With you here, though, he had more than just riddles and crosswords online and in the local paper to look forward to after a long workday. You were the only good thing that Gotham City had to offer. You were an angel, his angel.

He unlocked the door to his apartment and closed it behind him, a smile making its way onto his face at the sound of your shoes against the wooden floor as you made your way from the bedroom and toward him. You grinned widely as you saw him, your arms outstretched and wide open before you wrapped him in a tight hug.

"Hi," He murmured in greeting, hugging you back as he nuzzled his face into your soft, beautiful hair. You smiled even wider, looking up at him with eyes that always made him melt with just a single look into his own. "How was work, Eddie?" You questioned, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"It was—" He paused, trying to find the right words. Shit. It was shit. His boss was a condescending, passive-aggressive, arrogant prick who slacked off more than he worked and still managed to be more successful in his career than Edward had ever been. As much as he wanted to vent, he didn't want to burden you with more than he already was by being with you.

"Fine." He finally decided, putting on a fake smile. "Same old calculations and whatnot. Nothing interesting." He lied. It was another day of statements from Zach that were insulting enough to strike a nerve, but not obvious enough to report to HR. Not like it'd matter, it would probably get swept under the rug and forgotten about. Some days Edward wondered if his superior was actually the pompous dick he thought him to be or just an idiot with confidence.

"Oh." You could see right that smile on his face. Something was bothering him like it had been for days now and you could tell. It broke your heart knowing he was struggling and that same struggle left him unable to feel okay confiding in anyone. "Are you sure...?" You questioned, a hand moving upwards to cup his cheek gently, the man leaning into your comforting touch.

He had lied to you. How could you lie to her? You manipulative, disgusting freak. As the thoughts filled his head, guilt washed over him. God, he didn't deserve you. He didn't deserve your affection, and most certainly not your love. Did he deserve any love at all? Was there anything to love about—

"Eddie?" Came your soft voice, the sound like that of an angel. He broke himself out of his thoughts, smiling at you again. "I think I'm gonna go pick us up some takeout for dinner. What do you want?" He changed the subject, moving away from you and back towards the door.

"No." You said a bit sternly, grabbing his hand and pulling him over to the nearby couch, sitting down with him. "You're not getting out of this that easily. Tell me what's wrong, Eddie."

"It's not you, I promise that it's not." He insisted quickly, afraid he had upset you with his earlier lie. She's going to leave you. She never should've been yours to begin with. You ruin every good thing you get. He grew tense as the fears filled him and threatened to consume him whole. You were so perfect, so deserving of every amazing thing the world had to offer and more, and he was just... Edward Nashton.

"Woahwoahwoah!" Your hands shot forward at the sight of tears beginning to well up in his eyes, your thumbs wiping them away as they fell. "I'm not mad, honey. I just—" You stopped, unsure how to phrase things. "I'm worried about you. You can tell me anything, as cliche as that sounds. You're not a burden to me; you never have been, and you never will be."

He buried his head into your shoulder, sobbing into it as your arms came to hold him close to you. "Why? Why do you love me? I–I don't understand..." He cried softly against you. "All of these years you've spent with me and I can't comprehend why. Is it out of pity?" He asked. While to anyone else it would've sounded like a bold accusatory remark, you knew that the question was genuine. He needed to know.

"Look at me, Edward." You commanded gently, him moving so he could face you and meet your eyes with his own. The sight of tears running down his face and wettening his glasses broke your heart. "Three years we've been together. In those three years, I've fallen more in love with you than I have anyone else. We've made love more times than I can count. I even wait for the day you'll put a ring on my finger, no matter which one it is. It could be made out of scrap metal for all I care, as long as it's from you.

You're smart, Eddie. Tell me, does everything I just listed sound like I only pity you? Or does it sound like I'm head-over-heels in love with the man in front of me? You are good enough. I love you, Edward Nashton."

That made him cry even harder, but you were there to hold him, just as you had been since you stumbled into his life. If he wasn't good enough for himself, then at least he was good enough for his angel. You wanted a ring on your finger? He'd get you one in due time. Anything for the one who showed him that he could be loved, that he wasn't some type of vermin in the cesspool that was Gotham City. You are good enough. For once, he believed it.

[oct0bra1ns]

Oki oki I know you're probably like busy and stuff but I just thought of a good one (well I like to think I did). Obv take as much time as you need to get to this, don't you dare rush or overwork yourself

But basically, (possibly illegal?) racer yandere with a reader who's absolutely terrified of driving and generally hates most vehicles. Especially the loud ones, like he'd usually use

Also yay, you're alive! Also yay, I'm alive too

-💌

i'm so close to dropping my entire format bro, it takes so much time and half my motivation disappears the moment i'm reminded i have to do all that shit LOL and YAY YOUR ALIVE, MY BELOVED ANON!! I'm so sorry if this seems rushed UGEFWBJC'

reblogs and comments are appreciated

♡ Yandere racer who had an entire career in front of him, big dreams to make it to the big leagues only for it to have it all crumble in a matter of seconds because of one stupid scandal. It took everything from him and no longer was he the person who people greeted and brought random things to sign, he was abandoned, the crowd that gathered to greet him no longer cared about him.

♡ Just when Marcus thought all hope was lost, he met you, a cashier at a new coffee shop he decided to try out. Everytime he went there you greeted him with a phony smile, giving him the customer greeting as though he was like any other person and not a disgraced racer.

♡ His obsession only grew when consistent pestering, asking if you knew him or how famous he was ended with you slamming his cup on the counter, giving him a curt smile , told him that you did not care for such matters.

♡ He decides he wants to know everything about you, from your likes to your dislikes, where you live, how you travel from place to place, when you clock in, when you clock out. All this information to make a 'chance' meeting happen.

♡ Marcus knows your running late waiting for the bus, he takes it as an opportunity to pick your up in his sleek sports car, claming how he was heading the same direction and how he felt bad leaving you when he had enough time to drop you off.

♡ He who tries to show off with his speed, only to see how unfortable you look when he glanced at you through the corner of his eyes. He's aware of the way you clutch the seatbelt, how your eyes keep flickering to his speedometer, how you seem to flinch every time his engine roars.

♡ He wastes no time in offering you a deal, he'll drive you to work everyday so that you don't end up late and you can treat him to a coffee on the house every now and then and if you can't give it to him on the house, he'll pay for it, no worries. If you decline, he'll find more and more ways to make you late, running the risk of getting you fired, finding ways to keep making you late. If you use the fact that his sports car makes you uncomfortable with it's speed and noise, no worries, he has plenty of other luxury cars for you.

♡ Sometimes you wonder how he makes all the money for all these cars seeing as how he was basically forced to step down from his work but oh well, as long as you could get to work on time, what did you care?

♡ Usually Marcus would let you go back on your own, as he didn't want to seem too clingy with you but when he gets a text from you at midnight, asking if he can drop you home, he's got tough choices to make.

♡ He'd never give up the opportunity to pick you up but if he didn't make it to his race, his sponsor would have his head on a plate. Alas he has no choice but to take you with him to the race.

♡ He spends the entire car ride apologising to you, about how he didn't want to leave you but how his sponsor was insistent on him attending. Hell, he'll even beg for your forgiveness as long as you don't as him to let you off anywhere.

♡ Marcus makes it a point to feed on your fear on cars when you reach the venue, make you stay close to him all the time, making sure you stick close to him all the time, holding your hand, draping his coat over you so nobody has the audacity to talk to you.

♡ He takes every chance to get you to stick closer to him, taking up seats in the front, closer to the venue, even the attendants are surprised when they see someone whos always in the back, not only bring someone along with him but also take seats in the front.

♡ If you don't want to spend time with him after this, no worries, when your employer finds out just where you've been and be running back to him.

[galaxyedging]

You asked for it @magneticecstasy @missredherring @yorksgirl @inkededucatednnerdy

I take no responsibility for this fic. I didn't even proofread it.

Reed Richards x f!reader.

Warnings: Smut and powers and weird smut. Also, peer pressure. It's not in the fic. I'm just a sucker for it.

F is for...

The dirty bass line of Pony thunks through the thin walls of your changing room for what feels like the millionth time. It is a classic.

“Hey. That shady guy is back. How much does he pay you? It must be a lot, if he won't even take his hat and shades off in the club. You can't even see his face. Who knows what's under there.” Gina doesn't stop for an answer or stop picking through your things for the perfume of yours that she likes to steal.

Before you can process Gina is gone and all that is left in her place is a cloud of pilfered floral mist. The reflection in the mirror that looked so pleasing a few moments ago now is all wrong. Your hair needs to be tied back. The sequins and jewellery have to go. The high heels too. You don’t want to risk hurting your highest paying client. While you're at it, you remove the make up you'd layered on for the stage. He doesn't seem to go in for all that. He seems like he wants a girl he can take home to meet his folks. Which is probably why he ended up in here in the first place. It's the last place on earth you would find his type of girl, so it stands to reason it's the best place for him to hide.

“Hi. Did Gina tell you that you have someone waiting?” Adele fills the doorway of the dressing room.

Adele has been the manager for the past year. She's five foot nothing, all curved and attitude. She needs every ounce of it to keep the staff in check. Not one person here has a dad who didn't come back from buying milk or any substance abuse issues or any of those bullshit reasons to work the pole that people use to look down on dancers. They are here because they want to be. The pay is good for the hours. It fits around schooling and building other careers.

Days like this though you wonder if it's worth the pay. With Adele standing impatiently, you'd changed and made your way to room six, the one she'd told you, your regular was waiting in. He paid well and his request wasn't that weird considering his…situation. Slowly opening the door, the sleeve of his brown trench coat came into view. It always amused you that he thought that thing made him look less conspicuous. With the fedora and the shades he might as well have a neon sign about his head saying ‘I am hiding something.’

‘Hi, Reed.’ You greet him once the door is firmly closed behind him.

‘Hi.’ His posture relaxes once the door is locked and you two are alone, he even takes his hat and sunglasses off.

“How's your research going?” You hang up his hat and return for his coat.

“It's going.” You've learned that that's what passes for humour with Reed.

He's very straight laced even when things get…heated. It's all enjoyed with an under current of restraint.

“What would you like today? A regular dance…” you glance toward the pole “....or your special dance?” You come to sit beside him.

Reed was always a little timid at first. Once he was relaxed, he was confident and in control, he just needed a moment to acclimate.

“I'd like my dance, please, but…can I ask you something first?” His brown eyes study your for any hint of discomfort.

“Sure.” You shrug, you don't have to answer him. Besides, it's Reed, he'll probably just ask you about college.

“When you dance for me, do you feel that I appreciate it? That I'm present?” It's a genuine enough question. Only with your knowledge gleaned for Buzzfeed articles did you know that it was more than likely to do with his wife asking for a separation. If the rumours are true, he'd been even more obsessed with his research since that accident that gave them their powers.

Against your wishes, your heart clenches. “I do and you are very present, Reed.”

A smile tugs at his lips. “Thank you. I try and I do. Appreciate you, I mean. Sometimes my brain just won't shut off and these powers make my body feel…I don't know…needy?”

Years of training your face to not get you in trouble snap in place and stop the smile that threatens of Reed feeling horny without his wife and his first logical solution is to buy some relief.

“Well, what do you need now, Reed?” You perch on the edge of the sofa with your legs crossed, making sure he gets a good view of everything you have to offer in your tiny cutout bathing suit. “The usual?”

Reed nods eagerly and his hands practically fly to his belt buckle. In fact they go so fast that they fly past his belt buckle and stretch out another couple of feet in front of him.

“Sorry.” His sheepish smile is endearing as he wills his hands to return to their normal size.

“It's alright. Why don't we skip the foreplay tonight? You seem ready to go.” You couldn't help but notice the tent in Reed’s pants before he’d even ‘let it out’.

“Yes, please.” Reed sighs as he tugs out his already impressive cock.

As it is, it's long, thick, cut with a slight curve. It makes your mouth water but there is no way you are taking it in your mouth, or anywhere else with Reed’s current predicament. Speaking of, his cock begins to stretch. The girth doesn't change but the length is slowly rising. Even with the extra weight of the new inches, Reed is still hard and standing to attention. Eventually, three foot of cock sways before him.

Remembering that you are supposed to be a professional, you snap out of your gawking to get the lube and press play on your track. The first notes of ‘Pour Some Sugar on Me’ play as you straddle Reed’s thighs and pour a generous amount of lube over your chest and torso. As the song really gets going you shuffle closer to him, pressing your barely clothed pussy against his balls and start to grind to the beat. Reed whimpered at the contact. Normally you would tease him for more of those sounds but today you take pity on him. Looking him straight in the eye you lean forward to run your tongue up a section of his shaft. He tastes clean yet musky. It makes you determined to catch as much of his cum as you can in your mouth even if it does prove difficult.

“Again, please?” Reed pants while his hands find your hips.

He really is worked up today. Usually he allows a bit of teasing. He understands the concept of delayed gratification. He usually only takes control near the end. “Reed? Do you want me to make you come quicker today?”

“Yes but only if you do too. I want to feel you.” Reed is not the only one of your regulars that insists on your pleasure. He is the only one that you feel would completely give up his own for yours.

“I will. This really works for me, too, remember.” Reed can feel your sincerity as you move the flimsy piece of material covering your pussy to the side.

Reed’s incredible length slots between your folds and the valley of your breast. His arms wrap around you to pull you close. The two of you bounce up and down in tandem. Reed’s cock is trapped between you as your body jerks it off. The slick slide of your clit across the veins of his thickness builds your own release. The viscose sounds of body fluids and lube almost rivals the powerful cords of the song. Reed gets more vocal the closer he gets to the edge. His babbled pleas are muffled against your neck. His plush lips against the skin there is the closest you've ever come to kissing. It feels nice and a small part of you dares to dream. Whether it's the dream of the lewdness of jerking off a huge cock with your whole body, you come, and you come, and you come. Wave after wave of pleasure washes over you after your initial climax like jumping into the ocean. A gasped groan at your neck is all the warning you get to tilt your head up and stick out your tongue. Reed’s angry red head is shooting ropes of cum above you like a perverted confetti cannon. This time you manage to catch some on your tongue. It tastes just as you imagined. More importantly since you managed to catch it shooting out of a three foot cock into the air, it tastes like victory.