#and then i call them out on THAT as well as how me being in this fandom doesn’t immediately make everyone in it terrible because h th at was
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Mistaken identity
We’ve all seen Danny getting mistaken for a bat. But what about a bat being mistaken for a Fenton.
When Danny took responsibility for Dan the first thing they did was get him a human form that wasn’t his corpse. Between vlad, clockwork, and his parents they managed to get him a new body that had him looking more alive than ever.
He was a bit tanner than expected, but they figured that came from Danny’s ghostly side.
When it came time for Danny to go to Gotham for school, he refused to leave Dan behind. Instead, using the funds he got from the ghost kings treasury and child support from Vlad, Danny got them a studio apartment close to campus.
His parents outfitted the apartment with all the latest security, of course.
Everything was going great, all expect for one thing…
People in amity park accepted Dan and adapted almost immediately, having gotten used to the many quirks of ghosts long ago. Gotham….was a bit less understanding.
Luckily for him, unlucky for the rest of Gotham, the police there were incredibly corrupt and easy to bribe anytime he had to bail Dan out or, in the case of that one Karen that decided to give Dan shit for painting his nails, bail himself out of any trouble they came across.
Danny did his best to spend plenty of time with Dan, even when he was exhausted, he refused to ignore his little brother.
So after going through hell during finals week, Danny decided to take Dan to the zoo. Danny did his best to keep an eye on Dan, he really did! He had only sat down for a moment, just to rest his eyes, next thing he knew though he could hear someone yelling about violent kids.
Danny immediately jumped to his brother’s aid.
“I’m sorry,” Danny started as he interrupted the screeching woman. “Is there a problem here?”
Dan tried to speak up but the woman wouldn’t let him.
“This brat pushed me out of the way while I was looking at the exhibit and then spewed profanities at me!” She howled.
Danny flinched at the offensive noise on his sensitive hearing.
“No offense mam, but somehow I highly doubt that. My brother may not have the best manners, but he sure as hell wouldn’t push someone for no reason.” He couldn’t comment about the language, Dan knew more curse words in more languages that this woman could speak thanks to ghost speech, and he used every one of them.
“You little brat! How dare-“
“Of course, if you feel that strongly about it, we could always ask to see the cameras.” Danny suggested with a smirk. “I for one would LOVE to see what they have to show us.”
The woman paled before turning away in a huff. “I don’t have time to deal with annoying brats like you.” She said before turning away.
Danny’s eye twitched, “Good, because I don’t have time to deal with an entitled bitch like you.” Danny replied, ignoring the woman’s offended screech.
“C’mon Dan, let’s go get a snack and go see the penguins.”
——
Damien was thoroughly confused by what was going on. This was not how he was expecting this day to go.
He had snuck out of the Manor earlier, desperate to get away from his families judging eyes. The night before, he had encountered a smuggling ring, and after seeing the state the animals were in, he didn’t hold back against the traffickers. It was only because of his training with father that they hadn’t died.
His father called it overkill, he called it Justice.
After what he saw the previous night he decided to spend the afternoon at the zoo and bask in the presence of the animals, knowing that they were all well cared for.
And then the annoying shrew decided to ruin his day. He was ready to verbally eviscerate her when a large man stepped in. One that decided to claim him as his brother.
The man grabbed him by the hand after chewing out the woman and walked him over to the penguin exhibit, only stopping to pick up snow cones.
“I could have handled her on my own.” Damian said, before taking a bite of his treat, “you didn’t need to lie.”
Damian took a good look at the man before him, he had basically collapsed onto the bench when they stopped, the bags under his eyes made drake look well rested.
“What are you talking about?” The man asked before releasing a massive yawn. “I didn’t lie. Believe it or not, you’ve improved a lot since you came home to us. Sure, I could see you pushing someone out of the way a few years ago, but now?”
The man grabbed him by the arm, tugging him into a hug. Damien was too stunned to push back as the man gave him the most comforting, caring hug he had ever had.
“We’re all so proud of you Dan, you’ve come a really long way.”
Damien suddenly felt a pit form in his stomach as realization struck.
He carefully extricated himself from the hug.
“I think there’s been a misunderstanding, my name is not Dan.” Damian explained, pulling down the hood on his hoodie.
The man looked at him confused before rubbing his eyes. Taking a second look, his eyes went wide.
“Fuck.” He then proceeded to pull out his wallet. “Do I have enough to bribe a cop?”
Damian frowned, “why exactly would you be bribing the police?”
“Because I apparently just kidnapped a kid.” The man shrugged. “My names Danny by the way.” He said before sluggishly getting up from his seat. “Let’s go see if we can find your parents and my brother.”
“My father is not aware of my current location.”
Danny paused, giving Damian a long look before nodding, “We’ll if your gonna sneak out, at least you went someplace educational.”
Damian looked at him confused as the man stretched.
“Well then, let’s go find Dan and get something to eat before we get you home. I’m sure your father is worried sick.”
Danny then grabbed Damian by the hand and started to lead them back the way they came. The crowds parting at the sight of the large man.
“I do not need an escort, I am more than capable of returning home on my own.”
“That may be so,” the man started. “But I wouldn’t be able to get any sleep tonight if I didn’t make sure you got home safe. You wouldn’t want me to be deprived of sleep, would you?”
Damian considered the statement. The man was clearly on the brink of collapse. “Very well.” He nodded.
The approached the tiger exhibit to pure chaos as the animal handlers tried to retrieve a boy from the tiger cage. Danny sighed before Damian could try to sneak away and jump into action.
“And here I thought I wouldn’t have to bribe anyone today.” Before he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted “DAN FENTON! IF YOU DONT GET OUT HERE IN THE NEXT 2 MINUTES, ILL TELL JAZZ!!”
The zoo keepers nearly panicked as the boy immediately jumped up, completely ignoring the tigers and climbed out to join his brother.
#danny phantom#ghost king danny#dc x dp#brain vomit#Damian Wayne#dan phantom#Danny needs sleep#nocturne is scarily close to intervening#dan just wanted to cuddle the tigers#Damian approves
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kenma going to the gym for the sole purpose of being strong enough to lift his daughter whenever she wants.
Kenma Kozume had done a lot of things he never expected in life. But somehow, somehow, the hardest thing he had ever done… was carrying around your four-year-old daughter like she was an accessory strapped to his body.
It started off fine. She was small. Lightweight. Kenma barely noticed it when she’d reach up at him with those big, golden eyes, arms raised expectantly as she said, “Up, Daddy!”
And, of course, like an absolute fool, he always picked her up.
Always.
Now, however, things were different. Kiano was growing.
Which was great! Wonderful, even!
All he ever wanted was a happy wife. Check. And a healthy baby. Check.
Except for the part where she was getting heavier, and Kenma, who had not done a single muscle-related workout since high school volleyball, was starting to feel it. His arms ached. His back tensed up. There were days when, after holding her for too long, he would just sit down at his desk and stare blankly at his keyboard, fingers refusing to move because they were still recovering from holding your daughter for half the day.
“Kenma, you should just go to bed if you’re not feeling well,” you told him when you brought him some midnight snacks.
And your daughter, Kiano, she did not care.
She still reached up, still expected to be carried without hesitation the following morning.
And because Kenma was a weak, weak man, he never said no.
Which was how he found himself at the gym, standing at the front desk with his old gym keycard in hand, while Kuroo Tetsurou of all people stood beside him, grinning like a complete idiot.
“Hold on, hold on,” Kuroo said, leaning against the counter as he processed what was happening. “Let me get this straight. You’re renewing your gym membership—not because you wanna get in shape, not because you had some life-changing revelation, but because your four-year-old daughter is getting too heavy for you?”
Kenma scowled, tossing his gym keycard at Kuroo’s face. “Shut up.”
Kuroo laughed, easily catching it. “Kenma, this is hilarious.”
He exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples as the receptionist processed his renewal.
He knew Kuroo was going to be like this. That was the whole reason he had debated bringing him along in the first place. But Kenma also knew that if he walked into a gym alone after years of avoiding them, he would probably just stand in the corner, regret all his life choices, and leave without doing anything.
He needed moral support. Unfortunately, that support came in the form of Kuroo, who was currently laughing at his pain.
“It’s not that funny,” Kenma grumbled.
Kuroo shot him a look. “Kenma, you literally built your entire brand on being an indoors guy. And now you’re out here, willingly lifting weights, all because your tiny daughter says ‘Up, Daddy’ and you can’t say no to her.”
Kenma refused to make eye contact.
Because yeah, that was… basically the situation.
The receptionist handed back his renewed membership card, smiling. “Welcome back, Mr. Kozume! Need a trainer, or will you be working out alone?”
“Alone,” Kenma muttered quickly.
“Wrong!” Kuroo interrupted, slinging an arm around Kenma’s shoulders before he could escape. “He’ll be working out with me. You know, actual workouts, not just the bare minimum.”
“You’re acting like I won’t just cancel this membership next month.”
“Not if Kiano has anything to say about it.”
Kenma frowned, thinking about it for a second.
…Yeah. That kid was persistent.
Guess who she got it from? Ding, ding! You, of course.
If he so much as hinted at the idea of quitting, Kiano would probably just guilt-trip him with those big eyes, telling him, “Daddy, you said you’d carry me if I did well in school!” and then he’d look like the world’s weakest dad to your daughter forever.
Damn it.
He exhaled. “Fine.”
Kuroo grinned, clapping him on the back. “That’s the spirit, Daddy Kenma.”
Kenma cringed. “Never call me that again.”
Kuroo did call him that again.
-
An hour later, Kenma remembered exactly why he hated going to the gym.
He had been peer-pressured into lifting actual weights, had attempted (and failed) to use a pull-up bar, and nearly died trying to keep up with Kuroo, who, despite his stupid corporate job, was somehow still in peak physical condition.
Kenma, on the other hand, felt like he had been hit by a truck.
Kuroo, the bastard, was barely sweating. “You good?” he asked, grinning.
Kenma, lying face-down on the floor, made a vague, suffering noise.
Kuroo laughed. “Don’t tell me that’s all you’ve got. What happened to that volleyball stamina?”
“That was ten years ago,” Kenma groaned. “I’m pushing thirty in two years, idiot.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Kuroo crouched next to him, smirking. “But hey, just think about it—if you don’t get into shape soon, you’ll place Kiano down and never carry her forever!”
Kenma slowly turned his head to glare at him. “That is not comforting.”
“Kids grow up way quicker than you think, Kenma. You won’t know when you’ll ever be able to carry them, like when they were babies.”
“Is that why you’re worried that your 7-month-old son is going to get daycare soon, really? When he just start enjoying his tummy time?”
“Time goes fast.”
“Uh-huh. Right.”
Kuroo cackled, standing up and stretching. “Changing the subject,” he tuts softly. “I can’t believe this is what finally got you back in a gym. A four-year-old child has you completely wrapped around her tiny little fingers.”
Kenma didn’t even try to argue. Because, well.
It was true.
SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.
#‹𝟹 𓏲🗒️ꜝֶָ֢ ʾʾ#kenma x reader#kenma x you#kenma x y/n#kenma fluff#kenma drabble#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu drabbles#hq x reader#hq fluff#hq drabble#hq kenma#haikyuu kenma#kozume kenma#kenma#kenma kozume#kozume kenma x reader
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Daddy issues | “and if you were my little girl, I’d do whatever I could do…”
cw: 18+ MDNI, 4.1k words (omfg), smut with plot, meanie!simon (he’s a crazy, asshole), Daddy kink, daddy issues (obvi), dd/lg dynamics, mentions of abuse, sexualization of ‘pa, kiddo’ (truly a case of if you hate it just scroll), oral (f receiving), dacryphilia, creampie, full nelson, age gap (reader mid-late 20s, Simon early-mid 30s), no use of y/n (I use [+]).
a/n: obviously influenced by daddy issues by the neighborhood (I know it’s not about this at all, take it up with god), also by take you down by sza :3
You weren’t used to being this needy in your entire life.
You swore you didn’t need anyone, let alone Ghost Riley. You’d been repetitively normal in all your past relationships.
But he’d run through your mind like the Flash going back in time— the older man ruined some of the circuits in your brain.
You’d two gotten into an argument, shocker, but this time over how you were acting. The usually chilled out girl who Ghost would call when he wanted to see his little kitten purr, was now desperate for every little bit of his attention. The blonde despised every bit of it.
“You’re bein fuckin greedy.” He told you, walking away from where you stood after you told you’d wanted to stay over again for another week. Of course, you easily followed right behind, attempting to match his long stride. You never could.
“By wanting to be with you? Aren’t boyfriends supposed to want to see their girlfriends? Supposed to spend time together? There are probably a million girls and guys with sweet boyfriends—“
“—Do I look like one of those buddy buddy, pretty boys you like to fuck to you, [+]?” He turned on his heal, luckily you didn’t crash into his chest like you usually did. His voice was ice cold, “Answer me.”
“No sir.” You mumbled, the air was thick, tightly wrapping around your vocal cords.
“Then why the hell are you bein so damn needy? I told you, I won’t give you all my attention. I’ve got my own shit to take care of and you want me to, what? Hold you on my fuckin hip like a baby?” Well, hey— “Stop bein a damn brat and get the fuck out my face.”
“ ‘M not askin you to take care of me Si, but, I just want-“
“—Cut the shit [+]. You’re pissin me off, why can’t you just fuckin listen? I hate the clingy, desperate shit, get it out of your damn head and get it out of my fuckin house.” He stormed off into one of the bedrooms with a slam of the door.
Simon never had to tell you when he was kicking you out. You’d always go on your own.
He swore if he saw you and you were still stuck on the idea that you had to cling to him, he was gonna rip you a new one.
Did you take him serious?
On a good day, never.
You’d be stuck thinking about how good he looked, blonde hair a mess, veins popping out his neck and his arms, large muscles flexing, face screwed up towards you— you’d lick up all the poison he’d spewed to you over and over. It’s funny, at times like that you’d just wanted to know, if he’d fuck all his anger into you? Maybe you’d cum so many times just from finger fucking you, you’d be a babbling mess, begging for more—
Delusional.
Maybe when he was actually angry with you, not when Ghost was aggravated to the point he didnt want to physically see you.
And at the absolute worst of times, you’d trusted his words. You stayed away for a couple weeks just as you were told because you so desperately wanted to be told how good you were when you got that call. How you weren’t a needy bitch, but the prettiest & smartest girl he’d ever been with.
And of course you could’ve heard those simple words from anyone in a ten mile radius, ask your online followers for a few complements and you would’ve gotten them like clockwork. But you needed to hear it from that meanie.
Did you have a praise kink? Perhaps.
Did you need men’s approval to live? God forbid.
You just wanted Ghosts approval. His rough hands from those long days of being in action to touch your body, the playful head pats you swore you hated it cause it messed up your hair, a good smack to the ass as praise when he instructed you on how to change a car tire, fat fingers trailing your back as you sat in his lap, reading those books you loved a loud. Gruff voice praising after you had such an amazing day at work— as if you’d been the one to align everything so it could all work in your favor. ‘Good job doll, you’re doin well for yourself.”
Those underlying daddy issues would tear themselves out of you— like some junkie, you craved to hear his praises, feel it on your skin. It tingled the ivory inside you like a piano.
You tried taking your mind off it, throwing yourself into work, hanging out with your friends, doing a stream or two just to see if anyone showed up, get your mind straight so you wouldn’t be so dependent.
But giving a stray attention then yanking it away would be plain rude.
Your brain was in turmoil, front of your brain started to thunk, thunk, thunk from how much you were over thinking. To top it off, your father had called you just as you’d gotten done having lunch with some friends.
It’d be a long fucking night.
“No, I'm not moving back to the US just so I can be married off to someone stranger. Are you crazy?” You practically shrieked once you’d heard your stupid father on the other side of the call. No ‘hello,’ ‘how are you?’ ‘It’s been a while’ just straight bullshit.
Something about an arranged marriage with the son of a businessman he was trying to partner with. You wanted to punch him square in his jaw— ooooh calm down. You were okay. It’s perfectly fine.
“It’s for the betterment of your future, [+]. Why am I the only one who cares about that? You can’t go playing around with dogs all day—“
“I have serious clients dad, famous ones. Rich one’s. I’m not grooming dogs for nothing, even talked about opening my own place.” You tried. It was your dream, something not even your boss knew about. But Simon knew, in fact, he was the one who pushed you the most about really chasing after what you wanted. He had the most faith in you, and you yearned to hear him reassure you right now. Even if it was just him saying, ‘dont let those cunts get in your head, you’re my smart girl, aren’t ya? You know best.’
You would’ve killed to hear that right now.
Your father chastised, “A little grooming license isn’t a bachelors degree, is it?”
Oh. You blinked. He always had to take it there when he couldn’t get his way, because everything needed to go your father’s way or no one could be happy. You wiped your hand over your face in frustration, huffing as you continued on to your apartment, tuning out whatever the man was saying with ‘mmhm’.
Like a knight in shining armor but the opposing enemy, there the skull mask wearing man sat in his big black truck right in front of your apartment building. Simon didn’t even have to say anything when he caught your brown eyes, just motioned his head. ‘Come.’
Did he have to tell you twice?
You climbed in the car, heart pounding, not even listening to the words that were coming from the other side of the line because someone ten times more important had showed up.
“Where’ve you been?” He’d filled the cars silence in a hushed tone. Just enough so you could hear but your father couldn’t.
You fumbled around with your purse, looking at anything you could but the man beside you, “…You told me not to come over.”
“And you actually listened?” Simon griminced, eyebrow raised at you as he continued to drive.
Because usually, you’d show up even if you were the one who was mad. Ignoring him like he did you, even if you two were in the same space but you were still together. He’d still pull you in his arms, rubbing his head in the crevice of your neck because you were so damn cute with those eyebrows furrowed and pout.
“I didn’t wanna make you more upset this time.” You wanted to hide yourself but that truck left no room for it.
Well that didn’t work, did it? It just made him more annoyed. To the point Price had to tell him to ease up on the lower ranked soldiers during training. Even if he did push you away, you were a boomerang, always finding your way back to the older brute— a constant. You were a stray cat that would brush into Simon each time he gave you a little attention, a little food, a little love. And he liked it, his cute little thing that would ease his mind from everything even if you were a little annoying. Something to care for.
Like, a puppy? A kitten? No, more. Girlfriend? Of course. A step down to hell. His baby girl. His baby—
Before Simon could get another word out, the rambling from your phone the both of you were ignoring turned into yelling. His hand gripped the wheel with a scuff. Simon hated your father to say the very least, an annoying, prude that man was. He had a nasty habit of calling you and spewing utter bullshit in your ear, critiquing every little one of your life choices even though he didn’t raise you, didn’t pay for anything— he was just another entitled sperm donor. Simon had to tell you to hang up different times because he couldn’t stand someone talking to you like that.
It took Simon back to his own father, that abusive, psychopathic prick. Didn’t know what the hell he was doing with him and his younger brother, fucker always was on ballistic shit. Throwing things against the wall, putting his hands on anyone in that God forsaken house that breathed wrong, drinking non stop and the goddamn yelling. He didn’t want that for you— didn’t want to end up like that bastard. Simon cared about you too much, he wouldn’t let that happen. So in his fucked up way of caring, he’d push you away. Saying anything that came to mind, only meaning 61% what he actually said.
But that proved to be a new dead end.
Which led to a new resolution: he’d fix whatever issue went on in his head and keep you if it meant not having to see you very clearly, shut yourself down to cope or having to hear your annoying father talking down on you like an imbecile.
Ghost’s own head was reeling— he would never let anyone talk to you like you were an idiot. Couldn’t even imagine it. Yes, you were a little agitating, a little fucking dumb— but that was fixable. Nothing Daddy couldn’t fix. And if you trip and fall on your mistakes, the older man was right there to catch you. He’d refix your problems a thousand times over if he had to, why? Because he adored you to pieces.
But you weren’t an idiot, you can’t fix inherent incompetence.
His princess wasn’t incompetent.
That’s why every fuckin time you were on the phone with your father, which was already rare, he wanted to shove his booted foot right the man’s ass. Sew his asshole shut and keep feeding him, and feeding him, and feeding him. Water board the guy and show everyone how he was the fuckin embarrassment and not his sweet precious daughter—
Simon would try to hold whatever anger was festering this time because you, for your mothers sake, were trying to fix the relationship you didn’t break.
He was off the rocker, yes, but he’d get the shit together. Quick. Somehow. For you.
Be good, good, be good, be good—
“—And I bet you’re still fucking around with that ass aren’t you, [+]? You can be such a fucking idiot, it’s time to grow the hell up-“
You weren’t a fucking idiot. Never. If Simon didn’t call you that, what made anyone think they had the right to?
He didn’t hesitate to snatch the phone out of your hands, “—Are you out of your fuckin mind!?”
His voice boomed, filling the car, not even your father was talking anymore. The only sound that could be heard was the engine and the tires rolling on the pavement.
“Ya don’t say shit to your own kid for a decade but now you think you can run her life because you got some money in your pocket? Money you haven’t even spent a single pound on her—“ there was a quick muffled noise from the other side of the phone but Ghost was faster, “I’m disrespectful!? I wish I gave a shit about what you think of me or what I’m doin with your fuckin daughter. She’s with me for good reason.”
“—The next time you call you’d better have one foot in the grave or I’m gonna find you and make sure you do my fuckin self.” The blonde pressed the red button on the screen, a few more taps to block the man who, the blonde man had decided, wouldn’t be in your life.
After putting your phone in your lap, his hand immediately went to the back of your neck and letting out a deep breath, rubbing the baby hairs with his thumb. Soothing you. You saw Simon mouth move but you didn’t hear what came out of it. It was like your ears were shot just for a second, your heart beating loudly, you had wrapped yourself in a daze whenever you’d talk to your father and this had to be the first time someone not only yanked you out of it, but fully and undoubtedly protected you.
“Kid.” he barked, more profound.
Your big brown eyes snapped over to him, your brain finally catching up to what was happening in the moment.
“You’re okay, ‘s okay. I’ve got you, gonna take care ‘f you. Promise. You want that? Want me to take care of you, hm baby?” His voice was so soft, inviting, pulling you into whatever he’d had set for you in his mind.
How could you say no, when all you ever wanted was to be Simons?
“Yes sir.”
Famous last words.
Like you’d ignited a flame, his brown eyes flickered with mischief.
Ghost, the usual menace, rough man was being cloying with you.
Leaving gentle kisses all over as he made his was down to the heat in the middle of your legs. Big hands roaming the rest of your body as he slid your black, wet, underwear off, throwing your legs over his shoulders and giving a nice smooch to your cunt.
“So fuckin pretty baby, ‘s all for me?” His tongue slide up and down your vulva.
“Y-Yeah,” you said breathlessly, eyes fluttering shut as Ghost lapped up every juice that was coming out of you.
The older man scuffed, slipping a finger inside your tight walls and slowly thrusting them. “ ‘yeah’? That’s all you gotta say? Don’t be stubborn with me doll, wanna be nice to you today.”
You felt a pinch to your thigh, a warning, “keep those pretty eyes on me swee’art, need you focused on me.”
Your head tilted itself to the side, nodding your head and biting your lip to contain your moan but it’s barely doing anything as you watch Simon slip another fat finger into you, pumping his fingers faster and finally going up to your clit, taking a little nibble of it and then talking it in his mouth.
“Fu- mmm- fuuuck- wait- Si- I- can I cum? Please? Can I?” You whimpered, peeking down at the brown eyes that were stuck on you. Ghost was smirking, almost enough to get a laugh out of him.
“Course baby, bein so good. Can cum as much as you want today.” His fingers curled just right at the perfect spot inside you and your walls flutter around his fingers. But he’s not stopping, course he’s not, the man has to get a good taste of you, get you cumming with his fingers, without his fingers, without sucking your clit— he sucking out every drop that leaves your cunt.
Ghost was taking his sweet time, as if you didn’t need him inside you desperately. You were aching for more after cumming a fourth time, bucking your hips only for Ghost to press down on them to keep you still.
He pulled his mouth away from you, face covered in your slick, “Jesus baby, cut it out, will you? Thought you wanted Daddy to take care of you?”
“D-do, I do. It’s just- just-“
“Don’t tell me you’re not used to it.” His ends of his lips turned up into a smirk, teasing, fingers rubbing your clit just enough to keep you wanting more yet slow enough to keep your attention only on him.
No. No you weren’t. He’d known that.
Simon usually manhandled you every which way and any position he wanted you in. Edging you as much as he wanted then giving it to you deep and leaving you breathless at every moment. And it’s not like you hated it, you loved every second of it. But this- this situation made your brain melt.
The older man just looooved that.
“Give me another, let me feel it.” His hands went to grope your tits, squeezing and pulling at them as he rubbed his face further into your pussy, completely devouring you whole. The blonde slid his long tongue back inside your hole, thrusting it just right. The man groaned as you pulsed around him, somehow getting sweeter as you fell apart.
He kept touching all over you, the curve your breasts, the peak of your nipples, the dips in your hips and thighs— ever so softly. As if he was revisiting a map he’d known like the back of his hand, making sure he knew every nook and cranny of you, the cause of every twitch, shake, and moan, the reason slick kept flowing down onto his tongue.
Why?
Well a good Daddy just had to know his baby well, shouldn’t he?
You should’ve known, there was no way Simon would ever be nice and go easy on you the whole time he was fucking you. But you were being silly, fantasizing about him slipping inside you and being gentle.
Your mistake for thinking a man so large in size, so brutal with words, with the biggest and fattest dick you’ve ever seen in your life would ever treat your poor pussy kindly :(. You always looked so perfect when he had you crying, so easy to bully, Ghost just couldn’t help himself.
“Si- Simon!” You yelped out, as he finally bottomed out inside your pink walls that were gonna chop his manhood off. He’d had you stuck in an inescapable full nelson, legs spread wide open and beefy arms hooked under knees, forcing your head down to look at the disappearing act of the century happening with his cock and your cunt.
“Look at the fuckin mess you’re makin kiddo, gonna get my thighs wet at this rate.” Ghost was plopping you up and down, up and down on his length, the loud sloshing sound of your sopping wet pussy filling the room.
“No- Si- aangh- it’s too much!” And it’s not like you could even push any of him away, as he thrusted up into you, making sure you took every single inch imaginable.
“Such a fuckin liar baby. What a fuckin liar you are, ‘nd you don’t think I’ve fuckin noticed that you won’t call me how you’re supposed to? Huh? Didn’t teach you to lie like that, did I?”
You’d internally cursed, slapping at his hand for some relief but your mouth only letting out moans. Yes, you were avoiding calling him ‘daddy,’ even though you’d call him that casually, it felt so off today after your falling out with your father. It made your head spin, because it wasn’t just a nickname anymore.
You were craving the missing hole you’ve been ignoring this whole time, to be filled with the man fucking you like a slut in his big arms.
“Told you I’d take care of ya, didn’t I princess? Promised you I’d be reaalll good to ya but— shit, your squeezing the life outta me— can’t be nice if you don’t treat your own daddy proper, can I?” You moaned at his words, shaking your head because this man was gonna make you go insane, tonight. Pushing you past the point of no return, and no, he wouldn’t let go of your hand while he’d did it.
He’d hold your hand and jump with you.
“Come on, call me how you’re ‘posed to kid.” He grunted in you ear, sucking on your earlobe, “Call the only man you’ll ever need, the man who’s fuckin your pretty pussy right, know you want to. Come on.”
He was egging on that delusion that sat, triple boxed up and in the farthest corner of your mind of your mind. Teasing, taunting you, probing at the thought that you swore you locked away that one time it slipped out of you mid conversation months ago.
But Simon remembered. In fact, he’d just needed the ‘okay’ from your plump lips because he longed to hear you call him that oh so sweet yet oh so sinful name once more. He wanted to be your number one. The man you relied on, someone that would never leave you like your father did. Better than your father, better than any one of those little boys you’d fool around with in the past. Damn it, and it was making you wetter.
“Paaa! You feel so good pa!” You mewled, throwing your head back on his shoulder in pleasure.
You felt that maniacal grin form on Ghosts lips on your shoulder, leaving a kiss on your neck— he was proud of you. It tickled something in his brain, scratched the exact spot where his own daddy issues lay. He wasn’t new to hearing a sex partner call him daddy during sex, maybe he exuded that energy— it was in his blood, Ghost didn’t know. But you just kept pushing the line, accidentally calling him that magic word when he’d praise you. And it stuck. You’d call him daddy like it was second nature. Looking up at him with those pretty brown eyes, obediently listening to whatever he had to say. That’s what all the fucking clingy shit was about, the needy, desperation of it all.
Wanting a father figure from a hell raiser— it was arranged. You were a good girl. Ghosts good little girl.
“Therrre you go princess, atta girl! Doin so good for me, cum on your daddy’s dick. Show me how good you are baby, milk me dry.”
You shook your head, belligerent sobs escaping you. You couldn’t believe you’d just call him that, of all things. And you tried to retract it, whining your way through your orgasm that left you trembling, Simon himself filling your tight cunt with every bit cum that sat in his balls.
“I- I- hicc- I didn’t mean to call you- hicc- I’m sorry.” You blabbered out, how sweet. How cute, you were trying to collect yourself. He pulled out of you with a roll of his eyes, flipping you onto your stomach, rubbing the tip against your hole that was leaking with the both of your cum. What a miraculous sight.
“No, baby you did. Don’t worry that pretty little head,” he cooed, slipping his dick back inside you, groaning at the feel of you. “pa’s got you.”
“Come on doll, wanna hear you,” He rocked his hips into you, the room filling with the smack, smack, smack, smacking of his balls hitting your wet pussy, ripples forming on your ass with every thrust.
Your brain was turning to mush, drool forming and dripping down the sheets of the bed. The only thing you were able to think of was daddy, daddy, daddy, pa, pa, pa. How good your pa was drilling into you like a maniac.
Simon’s hand wrapped around your curly hair, dragging you up to your knees as he continued to ram into you, “This allll my sweet little girl needed? Your pa to take care of you like a good daddy should. Fuck, that bastard couldn’t treat you right could he? Show you how a man’s supposed to treat you, huh?”
“Noooo sir- nghhh.” you keened, eyes rolling to the back of your head.
“Tha’s right princess, don’t worry though— I love you. Your pa loves you soooo. fuckin. much baby. No one’s gonna love you more than me.”
Those words alone is what set off your next orgasm, he was talking crazy, actually. And you loved every second of it, back arching even more so as you pulsated around his throbbing cock. He was still thrusting into you chasing his own orgasm, a string of curses leaving his mouth as you felt the tip of him spasm. He made you so full of him, you’d felt so warm all over.
“Shit, such a good girl for me, gonna take such good care of you from now. What do ya say?” He took you in his arms, laying you on top of him. You could feel his heart beating, chest heaving. Both of your skin sticky with sweat.
“Thank you pa.” You wrapped your arms him.
“Oh princess,” Ghost smiled, pressing his lips against yours, cupping your face with one hand and caressing it with his thumb, “you’re so welcome.”
a/n: it’s three people who are gonna read all this, me being one of them. If you liked it leave me a message or comment. If you hated it, idk. I’m just a big dadbf!simon enthusiast.
most recent masterlist.
#daddy issues#meanie!simon#black cat!reader#tojisteddy presents#simon ghost riley#simon ghost x reader#ghost x you#ghost x reader smut#modern warfare#task force 141#tf 141 smut#simon riley x y/n#simon riley smut#tw daddy issues#tw daddy kink#ghost riley x reader#ghost cod#call of duty#dadbf!simon#dad bf#x black reader#black reader
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Hellooo! It's my first time ever asking a request like this 😅 Could you write headcannons for blue lock boys, how they would react to when "bridesmaids giving the groom sexy Polaroids of the bride throughout the night" like the trend in tiktok!! I'm curious about Barou, reo, rin, and yukimiya 👀 but you are welcome to add others as well!! Hehehe thanks!!
YES i’m sorry for the wait I HOPE YOU ENJOY 🤍
when your bridesmaids give them sexy polaroids
husband bllk x fem!reader. suggestive
barou shouei
-> he’s breaking a sweat after photo two and loosening his tie by photo three
-> protects those half-naked photos of you like it’s his only duty on this earth. will bite anyone’s hand off if they so much as breathe in his direction when he receives another polaroid of you
-> when you waltz over to your new husband, wrapping yourself around him in newlywed glee, it takes more restraint than he’s used to to keep his hands from wandering. especially in front of your friends and family
-> “you know exactly what you’re doing to me with these little photos, don’t you?” you give him an innocent look and kiss the lobe of his ear. “i have no idea what you’re talking about.. ;)”
mikage reo
-> eyes threaten to pop out of his head when your bridesmaid subtly slides a polaroid in front of him. a polaroid of you in a very inappropriate manner
-> when he catches your eye and sees you wink, he knows he’s in for a treat
-> has half a mind to call the reception off early so he can have you all to himself, but this is your wedding night, and he wants it to be perfect for you
-> turns out, he’s not the only one thinking this way. when you appear at his side, dragging him to the parking lot like teenagers sneaking out, you tell him that you asked your bridesmaids to stall for the remainder of the party before locking the car doors and hopping into his lap
itoshi rin
-> you’re acting nonchalant, trying to feign innocence about the explicit photos you and your bridesmaids took for your husband, but he misunderstands your innocence as ignorance
-> gently pulls you aside after receiving the first photo. “y/n, i know you love your friends, but…” and he gives you the photo. “i don’t want vulnerable photos of you being spread around on our wedding day.”
-> you find his concern adorable and decorate his cheeks with lipstick-covered kisses. “aw, honey! it was a surprise gift for you, no one else has seen them.”
-> he flushes bright pink at that. “oh.” “thank you for protecting me, though.” “um, you’re welcome.”
yukimiya kenyu
-> it’s a slow descend into madness for gentlemanly yukimiya
-> literally chokes on his champagne when he receives the first polaroid from your bridesmaid. she hands it over so coyly, like she doesn’t know she’s holding his demise in her hands
-> he’s all tight smiles throughout the night. cannot keep his eyes to himself, and thankfully people think it’s only because he’s admiring his new wife. while that’s mostly true, he’s mentally mapping out the shape of you beneath that dress
-> “ken?” “hm? yeah?” you give his thigh a gentle squeeze beneath the table and lean close so that your lips are near his ear. “you’re staring.” “sorry, darling. it’s hard not to with those images of you printed in my brain.”
#requested!#blue lock#bllk#bllk x reader#blue lock x reader#blue lock headcanons#bllk x you#blue lock x you#barou shouei#mikage reo#itoshi rin#yukimiya kenyu#bllk barou#bllk barou shouei#blue lock barou#barou x reader#blue lock mikage reo#mikage reo x reader#reo x you#bllk reo#blue lock reo#bllk rin#bllk itoshi rin#itoshi rin x you#blue lock itoshi rin#blue lock rin#itoshi rin x reader#bllk yukimiya#blue lock yukimiya#yukimiya x reader
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nanami keeps his old photo albums in a neat row on the bottom shelf of his bookcase, tucked away like a secret he hopes no one will ever stumble upon. but you, being the curious and mildly intrusive person that you are, find them on a quiet sunday afternoon while he’s in the kitchen making tea.
“what are these?” you call out, already pulling one from the shelf. the leather-bound cover is worn but well-kept—of course it is, knowing nanami.
“old pictures,” he replies from the kitchen. “nothing special.”
but the moment you flip open the first page, you realize that is a blatant lie.
nanami kento, age sixteen, stares back at you with an expression so blank it loops back around to being hilarious. his hair—oh, his hair—is a relic of the mid-2000s, all long, choppy bangs swept dramatically over one eye. the unmistakable mark of a teenager who either listened to a lot of my chemical romance or read too much philosophy for his own good. maybe both.
your laugh bursts out so suddenly you almost drop the album.
“oh my god,” you gasp between wheezes. “nanami, get in here. now.”
he doesn’t respond right away, but you hear the kettle click off and his resigned sigh as he makes his way over. when he finally appears in the doorway, tea in hand, his eyes land on the open album and immediately narrow.
“no,” he says, completely serious.
“oh, absolutely yes,” you counter, turning the book so he can get a full view of his past sins. “look at you! the brooding! the aesthetic! did you—wait, did you straighten your hair?”
his jaw tightens, and you swear you see the ghost of a wince.
“occasionally,” he admits, as if the word physically pains him.
you collapse onto the couch, clutching your stomach from laughing so hard. “this is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. why have you never told me about your emo phase?”
“because it wasn’t a phase,” he mutters, taking a slow sip of his tea like that’ll protect him from your merciless teasing.
you choke. “nanami.”
“i was a serious teenager.”
“you were a walking funeral.”
he glares at you, but there’s a hint of amusement beneath his exasperation. “i fail to see why this is so funny.”
you flip another page, revealing a rare candid shot of him sitting in what looks like a bookstore, engrossed in either a kafka novel or a collection of poetry. “oh, i don’t know, maybe because you look like you were one bad day away from writing poetry about how the world doesn’t understand you.”
he pinches the bridge of his nose. “i did write poetry.”
you wheeze.
“where is it?” you demand. “i need to read it.”
“absolutely not.”
“i’ll trade you my embarrassing high school photos.”
“you’ve already shown me those.”
“damn it,” you mutter. “okay, what if i—”
before you can finish your sentence, nanami smoothly plucks the album from your hands, closing it with a decisive snap.
“i think that’s enough reminiscing for today.”
“coward,” you huff, watching as he tucks the album back onto the shelf. but there’s a fond smile on your face, and you don’t miss the way his ears are just slightly pink.
he exhales, giving you a long-suffering look before finally relenting. “one poem,” he says. “and then we never speak of this again.”
you beam. “deal.”

#— teddy’s writing shop 𐙚🧸ྀི#emo nanami#make a comeback#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk x you#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x you#kento nanami x reader#nanami x reader#nanami kento#nanami kento x#kento nanami x you#nanami x you#nanami fluff
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I generally detest the New York Post, but they're the ones reporting on the EEOC complaint of Mr. Wilson and Mr. Torres, Columbia janitors.
Both men are making claims under Title VII of the Civil Rights Act, alleging that they faced retaliatory harassment at the institution for “reporting antisemitic and racist conduct.”
...
“Hours after President [Minouche] Shafik issued her statement [that the university had become ‘unsafe for everyone‘], an antisemitic mob assaulted two janitors inside Columbia’s historic Hamilton Hall, calling them ‘Jew-lovers,'” the two complaints for both men recalled of the Hamilton Hall takeover in April last year.
It all began around November 2023, shortly after the bloody Oct. 7 Hamas attack on Israel sparked a war. Racist and antisemitic graffiti started to pop up, scrawled all around Hamilton Hall — and the campus’s janitors were forced to clean it up. “Mr. Wilson recognized the swastikas as symbols of white supremacy,” Wilson’s complaint alleges. “As an African-American man, he found the images deeply distressing. He reported them to his supervisors, who instructed him to erase the graffiti.” “No matter how many times Mr. Wilson removed the swastikas, individuals kept replacing them with more.”
Wilson lost track of how many swastikas he had to scrub, but his colleague Torres, who is Latino, pegged it in the dozens and eventually reached a point where he had enough, his complaint said
“They were so offensive, and Columbia’s inaction was so frustrating, that he eventually began throwing away chalk that had been left in the classrooms so vandals would not have anything to write with,” Torres’ complaint alleged. “However, Mr. Torres was reprimanded by his supervisor for doing so.” ...
In one instance, around Dec. 6, 2023, Torres and Wilson observed masked protesters storm through Hamilton Hall chanting “From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free” and scrawling swastikas as well as other obscene graffiti in the building.
After Wilson reported that, he was told by campus security that “the trespassers and vandals were exercising their First Amendment rights” and that “nothing could be done,” per the complaint.
On the takeover of Hamilton Hall:
Rioters had moved vending machines and zip-tied doors to barricade the exits and entrances. After deciding he was out of options, Torres decided to battle his way through the mob. ‘”I’m going to get twenty guys up here to f— you up,'” one masked rioter who had “violently” shoved Torres threatened, per the complaint. “Mr. Torres pulled a fire extinguisher, which was within arm’s reach, off the wall to defend himself and replied, ‘I’ll be right here.’” During that confrontation, Torres was repeatedly struck on his back by other rioters. After repeatedly navigating to blocked-off exits, he eventually found a way out that had been blocked by zip ties and a bike lock. Following his pleas, one of the rioters cut the zip ties and let him out. Wilson had been separated from Torres during the havoc and had quickly tried to escape after determining the rioters were taking over. During his scramble to get out, rioters smashed furniture into him and pushed him repeatedly, per the complaint.
“He recalls saying, ‘I work here. Let me out,'” the complained alleged. “The rioters responded by laughing at him and mocking him. He remembers being told, ‘You work for the Jews,’ and ‘You’re a Zionist.’ Eventually, someone opened a door and Mr. Wilson was physically pushed out of the building.”
Added 3/18/25, from May 2024:
If you have paywall issues, use this.
#cuad#columbia university#mahmoud khalil#jumblr#antisemitism#leftist antisemitism#Campus antisemitism
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Within this context I want to ask anyone who sees this reblog to ask themselves what some things are that they feel Very Strongly about.
What are some things that you think are unacceptable no matter what. Make a small list of them.
They could be kinks, the way people should act at movies, it could be about manners, even job etiquette, or more in line with the post: something you thing is immoral with no excuse for the behavior/act.
Now consider that you're wrong.
Because the things fascists make you think and the way they make you think them are tied to your own principles as OP outlined above. Im sure there are many things that you believe you are right about because to think otherwise would be immoral. Right?
Like sex scenes, certain kinks, and dark romance.
So now ask yourself how open you would be to hearing out the other side in good faith. Would you even be willing to listen?
Your ability to learn and hear new ideas is what ultimately will separate you from the fascists.
So how much would your own passion and desire to do the right thing stop you from considering the other side?
And if you can't see yourself being open to that sort of thing, then the fascist propaganda has worked.
Because guess who else isn't open to being wrong? Guess who else would rather shut down an argument, silence their opponents, and even harm people who don't believe the same things they do? Guess who else thinks that anyone who disagrees with them is a moral failure? Guess who else thinks they know better than everyone else and wouldn't entertain the idea that what they believe could be wrong?
Fascists, yes.
And then they use that logic to say "well if you don't believe x is wrong like me then you deserve y."
And there have been many, many people throughout history who saw their fascist governments hurting people and enabled it by saying things like, "well, if Those People didn't x then they wouldny be treated like y. They should just stop x behavior."
And you know what that does? Places all blame of fascism onto its victims while at the same time enforcing fascist norms onto society.
Fascists are masters of turning people against groups they see as unwanted for that very reason. They get the public to do most of the finger wagging then, once they manufactured enough supoort using propaganda, they start passing fascist law.
They tie Black people to crime, Trans people to perverts, Jewish ppl to greed, migrants to job theft, gays to godlessness, the disabled to bad dna, etc. All of these groups are blamed for the inequality of the True Countrymen.
So if you
Struggle to accept being wrong
Struggle to accept new ideas of right/wrong
Struggle to change your own idea of right/wrong
Struggle to accept when you're (part of) the problem
Have a tendency to blame cruelty on victims rather than it's perpetrators or enablers
Have a group of people you are disgusted by and would struggle to see in another light
Think people who are, in your opinion, living incorrectly or immorally deserve bad things to happen to them
You are traveling down a dangerous pipeline.
This is your sign to turn back.
Fascism rarely ever actually sneaks up on a government. As a few people above stated, they've been raising alarms for a while and were called every name in the book. I have too. So have a lot of people I know.
Think back to this last election, heated as it was. How often did you see people shut down criticisms of democrats? More specifically, how often did you see people justifying fascist acts and law in the name of their own security? How malicious did you see those people get? How often did they harass anyone who disagrees with them?
Do you know who else saw it? Do you know who else saw even the bluest of liberals justify genocide as long it kept them safe? Do you know who else saw them harass poc who wouldn't enthusiastically elect someone they saw as the Right choice?
Fascists.
it's true and you should say it.
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The Color Pink
Based on the following ask: Hii, I was just wondering if you could do Aaron x reader but the team for some reason refuses to warm up to her for a while. If you can please make the reader hyperfem only if you want to. Thank you!!!! I love the idea of Hotch with a hyperfem girlie – she’d be in pink ALWAYS, with a wardrobe and home full of ruffles! So, the BAU team is against this relationship of Hotch’s because 1. They assume she’s a bimbo due to the hyperfemininity and 2. She’s young. Basically, they are questioning Hotch’s judgement on this one. Flashbacks in italics.
Aaron Hotchner x HyperFem! Reader Angst/Fluff Word count: 2552
REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!
Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, age gap (reader is 20s/Hotch is 40s), female reader, np physical description (other than having hair long enough to curl and Aaron referring to her as little – which he’s big tall so everyone is small compared to him), hyperfeminine reader, explicit language, consultant reader, BAU being judgy overprotective, Morgan being rude, Spencer and Garcia defending the reader, Reader is a presumed Bimbo…but is actually really smart (Elle Woods-esque), mentions of food/eating, reader has a flash of self-doubt, mention of Jack, let me know if I missed anything.
I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

Meeting you had been an act of fate. At least, that’s how Aaron saw it. You were not the type of girl he’d typically go for…not ever. But that morning, you’d got a flat tire on your way to work, ironically on Aaron’s way to work. He had to do the right thing, any chivalrous man would, he was going to pull over no matter what, but when you stepped out of your car…that sealed the deal. He needed to pull over because if he didn’t, someone else would, someone potentially dangerous.
--
“Excuse me miss; do you need some help?” Aaron offered.
“Oh, I um – I got a flat. I called Triple A, but they said it be like forty-five minutes.” You explained.
You stepped out of your car and stole the breath from Aaron’s lungs. You were in a satin pink button-up blouse, with high-waisted white trousers, and strappy pink heels. Your hair was cascading over your shoulders in beautiful loose curls, your gaze lifted to his. Aaron had to release a light cough to pull himself out of the trance you had him in.
“Do you have a spare?” He asked.
“I don’ t think so. But like I said, Triple A is on the way, so I guess I will just sit and wait.” You shrugged.
“I’m not sure I feel comfortable leaving you here on your own.” Aaron admitted.
You gave him a once over. He was in a well-fitted gray suit, his hair lightly slicked back, black dress shoes, and a silver Rolex resting on his left wrist. You took quick note of the absence of a wedding ring. A very brief rush of unease slid through you, but it was washed away as he moved his hand to his hip, unknowingly flashing the FBI badge that was clipped to his belt loop.
“I’d hate to be an imposition. Plus, we are strangers…” You eyed him once more.
“Right, I uh – I’m Aaron Hotchner.” He introduced himself and offered you his hand to shake.
You shook it gently, giving him your name. You couldn’t help the blush that crept over your cheeks at the warmth radiating from him. It was your turn to feel breathless. Taking him in once more, you had to admit to yourself that he was handsome. Clearly older than you, but you didn’t mind…and age didn’t define beauty.
Aaron had waited the whole forty-five minutes with you, once Triple A showed up, he waited for you to get everything squared away with them before turning to leave.
“So that’s it?” You called after him.
“What do you mean?” He questioned.
“You just sat and waited forty-five minutes with me and you’re just going to leave? Without asking me out? Or at least asking for my phone number?” You huffed.
Aaron was speechless. He had wanted to ask you out…truthfully he’d thought about it the moment you stepped out of your car, but he didn’t want you to fell that he was some sort of predator. But now here you were, this gorgeous little thing, asking him to ask you out.
“Would you go to dinner with me Friday? Provided my work doesn’t call me away.” He asks.
“Yes. Pick me up at seven.” You smiled, handing him a light pink business card.
--
Initially, Aaron didn’t introduce you to anyone because he wanted to see if your relationship would bloom into something real. As things did progress, he opened up to you about his life, his job, his family…and his demons. He hadn’t wanted to let his darkness taint your light, your sparkle, but one night while he was staying with you, he’d had a brutal nightmare, one that had him spewing all the information out to you while you held him close, your sparkle shining bright.
Another reason why Aaron had hesitated to really bring you into his world was because you were so different than the other women he’d dated. They were grown-up, mature (maybe even too mature), boring even, and here you were, this pastel princess whose home was filled with pink – ruffled pillows, lace curtains, fashion books, flowers, fluffy rugs, etc. you were the textbook definition of a girly-girl.
He was sure the BAU team would have some pretty strong opinions about his relationship with you, not only because of your differences, but also because of the almost 20-year age gap. It sounded silly, but he really wanted the team to like you.
The first time Aaron introduced you to the team hadn’t exactly gone as he had hoped. He had asked you to join them out at their favorite bar for drinks. They had put on quite the show in front of you, but when you stepped away to get a drink, the truth came out.
--
“Hey guys, I hope you don’t mind, but I invited my girlfriend to join us.” Aaron mentioned casually.
A chorus of “what” and “you have a girlfriend” and “who is she” all rang out at once. He couldn’t help but chuckle at them. He figured he should answer some of their questions now so that way they could focus on getting to know you once you arrived.
“She and I have been together for about six months. It’s getting pretty serious and, uh – she uh…” Aaron smiles to himself. “She um, she’s different than the other girls I’ve dated, so just keep an open mind and get to know her.”
You arrived about ten minutes later, rendering everyone speechless. You walked in with a light pink mini puff dress on. It flowed around you in a cloud of tulle it rested against your upper thighs which were adorned in sparkly nude tights. You’d chosen to wear white lace up heels with it, and your hair was pulled back, pinned up with loose tendrils framing your face.
“Hi! I’m so sorry I’m late, a client called last minute and, you totally do not want to hear about my boring work.” You sighed, meeting the gazes of the stunned agents seated before you.
Aaron had officially introduced you to everyone, they exchanged hesitant pleasantries, and you began making small talk. After a few awkward moments, you excused yourself to get a drink.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Aaron asked.
“No, no. I got it honey. I’ll get you another whiskey.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek and walked toward the bar.
As soon as you were out of earshot, the questions came rolling in. Most notably, Dereks.
“What the hell are you doing man?”
“I beg your pardon?” Aaron was shocked.
“Hotch, man, she’s young enough to be your daughter. And I mean, look at her.” Derek gestured toward where you stood at the bar.
“I am well aware of her age Morgan. She and I have discussed that at length and have both agreed that it didn’t matter. Age doesn’t change how we feel about one another.”
“Hotch, I’m more worried about the fact that she looks like she just walked off of sorority row.” Emily shook her head.
“Yeah, her outfit…Hotch she’s not serious. I mean she’s still a kid.” JJ added.
“That’s enough, she and I are serious. She’s not a kid; she runs a very successful consulting firm, she is kind and sweet, she takes care of me, she gets along with Jack, and I and…well. I love her.” Aaron concluded.
A muffled remark sounded from across the table. Morgan had more to say, and Aaron wasn’t going to let it go. He cared about you and the people across from him were his family, their opinions meant a lot to him…but right now they were letting him down.
“Say it out loud Morgan.” Aaron demanded.
“Nothing.”
“Say it.” Aaron hissed.
“I said she gets along with Jack because they’re closer in age.” Derek shot back.
The table went silent, tension filling the air. Aaron scoffed, shook his head in disbelief, and walked away. Moving towards you, coming up with some lame excuse to get the hell out of there.
“Look, I know that was a lot, but I didn’t say anything that we weren’t all thinking. That girl, she’s a bimbo. Hotch needs someone more serious…more like Beth.” Derek justified.
“Wow.” Penelope scoffed, pushing her chair away from the table. “You guys are terrible.”
“What are you talking about?
“Did you not see his face? Hotch is happy, his smile took over his entire face…because of that girl and you all tore him down so quickly. I mean come on. Spence when was the last time Hotch smiled like that?” Penelope asked.
“The last time Hotch has smiled like that in front of us was back in 2005 when he introduced Jack to the team as a newborn.” Spencer rattled off.
--
That was about eight months ago. Aaron and you have grown even more serious since then, you moved in together – into a new house where you could set up a space that was all your own, full of pink and ruffles and lace.
Honestly, Aaron had gone as far as buying a ring for you. He wanted to propose and had the whole thing planned. He and Jack were going to take you on a picnic and then they’d ask you to become a permanent part of their family.
Despite the happiness he felt at the idea of marrying you, he couldn’t help the disappointment that crept in. He wanted his family to all be there in support of you two…and his family, well that was the BAU.
He knew he’d have to talk to them, to do something to prove to them how incredible you are.
--
Aaron had called everyone to the round table. He needed to tell them about how serious he really was about you, and he needed them to love you.
“I asked you all here because today we will have a special guest for lunch.” Aaron went on to explain that you’d be coming in, bringing in lunch from one of the BAU’s favorites. “I know that when you all first met her, you were unsure. But I need you all to realize that I’ve been with her for over a year now, we live together, and…”
“You can’t be serious man. She’s naïve, just some young hot thing seeking an older man, presumably for his money.” Derek interrupted.
“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Aaron commanded. “I plan on marrying her, and you guys are my family. I need my family there when I marry this woman. If you can’t get on board…then I guess you aren’t the people I thought you were.” Aaron says with finality.
There was a collective nod and shrug amongst everyone.
--
When you walked in, you could feel the tension like a thick fog. It was all consuming, like picking a hangnail until that piece of skin runs further and further up your finger, bleeding and tender.
You needed this to go well.
Aaron had told you to be your usual self. He wanted the team to like you for you, but you knew it would be best to tone it down at least a little bit. You’d choose to wear light blue jeans, a chunky pink sweater, and some heeled ballet flats. Your arms were juggling multiple bags, filled with sandwiches and another one with drinks for everyone.
“Hi guys.” You offered a small wave as you entered the conference room.
“Hey sweetheart, let me help you with those.” Aaron was quick to grab the bags from you.
“You look stunning as always! It’s good to see you again!” Penelope greeted.
“Oh, thanks babe! I love the new hair; it is such a good color!” You complimented. “Oh, Spence, I got you something!” You pulled a wrapped book from your bag, handing it to him.
“What’s this?” He asked, gently pulling at the wrapping. “The Narrative of John Smith, this is one of my favorites!” Spencer gushed.
“It’s a special edition, they only made 200 of them. But that’s not the best part…open the cover.” You were giddy with excitement.
Spencer opened the book to reveal that it had been signed. “Are you kidding me! This is amazing, thank you so much!”
“It’s really no problem.” You smiled.
Aaron was beaming at you, you had been so kind, showing them all who you really were, and he just hoped that they’d all finally see you for who you truly are.
As everyone finished their lunch, you began clearing the trash. Everyone offers thanks to you, the girls planning a day out with you. Each of them seemed to be coming around except for Derek. Aaron couldn’t figure out why he was so against you.
--
You said your goodbyes and made your way out. They had all filtered out of the conference room when Aaron decided to confront Derek once and for all.
“Everyone else has come around, so why can’t you? What is your problem with her?” Aaron asked.
“It’s not her that I have a problem with. Not really.” Derek shrugged. “Look man, I am sorry for how I have acted towards her. It’s unacceptable. But I don’t think you dating her is a good idea.”
“I appreciate your concern, but it’s misplaced Morgan. She is the best thing that has ever happened to me.”
“You think that now Hotch. But what are you going to do when she up and walks away. That is the type of girl who will ruin your life and Hotch, you’ve been hurt too many times. You and Jack have lost far too much.”
“Derek, I know you are worried for me, but I have to see this through. I really love this girl, and she can handle herself, she makes good money, so I know that isn’t the motivation here. She is everything to me, and she has done nothing but prove that she feels the same for me.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I have your back man, and if you love her, then I’m not going to stand in your way.”
--
Things began looking up after that. Derek had pushed his concerns aside and took the time to get to know you, which only made him feel like an idiot for his behavior. Aaron had been right, you could hold your own – you were smart and witty and far to quick with your words, giving him a run for his money. Derek started to see how big your heart was, and he saw the changes in Aaron thanks to your presence in his life. He started to actually appreciate you and your love for his boss.
Aaron told you about his interaction with Derek and you offered some valuable insight.
“Honey, Derek looks up to you. You have made a huge impact on his life, and he has seen you lose so much because of your work, he’s seen you in, quite literally, your lowest moment. He just wants to protect you from hurting like that once again.”
“You are the smartest person I know sweetheart.” Aaron pressed a kiss to your temple.
--
Months later, the BAU team stood and witnessed Aaron and you vowing to spend forever with one another. You had finally been welcomed into this family.
Taglist: @bernelflo@pastelpinkflowerlife@just-moondust@khxna@crimesthatnooneaskedfor
#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner x reader#criminal minds#aaron hotchner#hotch x reader#aaron hotchner x you#ssa aaron hotchner#aaron hotch hotchner#hotch x you#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotch x reader#hotchner x reader#hotch#aaron hotch imagine#aaron hotchner fluff#hotchner smut#agent hotchner#hotchner x you#aaron x reader#aaron hotch smut#aaron hotch x you#aaron hotch fic#aaron hotch fluff#aaron hotch angst#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner x female reader#aaron hotchner x fem!reader smut#hotch x y/n#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner angst
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TWST DRABBLE #13
I had some thoughts about you and Malleus being in a relationship before the events of book 5 and everyone finding out when he came to repair the stage ;
Everyone was catching their breath after the events of Vil's overblot. Thanks to Deuce's unique magic you were able to quickly defeat him, but even so, there happened to be a tiny problem that was left after : “Hey so uhh... how are we going to repair the stage? It's fully wrecked” Ace scratched the back of his neck wondering. It was true, the stage was completely destroyed, almost nothing was left of it and hiding the events of the overblot proved to be much harder now. “We have no choice — Vil's calm but exhausted voice made its way to your ears — I'll tell the headmage that we can no longer continue with the VDC- ”
“Oh? now what do we have here?” In a flash, everyone's face turned to the deep yet commanding voice behind them, founding none other than the Diasomnia housewarden, Malleus Draconia. “Hornton! I didn't expect you to come this early!” You scratched your cheek with your finger giving him a sheepish and adoring grin which he reciprocated with a sly yet soft smile absolutely paying no mind to the mortifying expressions of the others around you. It wasn't until you heard a loud 'HORNTON?!?!!' from behind you that you turned your head to the others failing to see the big wicked grin the fae returned to the collective. “Oi Prefect?! Do you know who that is?? Why're you calling him Hornton for???!!” “...he told me to call him whatever...?” Epel and Ace's faces had a bewildered expression on them which quickly turned to horror when Malleus gave them a loud and thunderous amused laugh. “Indeed, I did tell the child of man to call me whatever they pleased — his hand made its way to your left shoulder, his body leaning on the opposite side as if protecting your blind spot, posture similar to a snake — after all, why wouldn't I let my dear beloved call me a nickname of their own choice?”
The reaction was instantaneous, you swore Vil was about to faint by the look on his face while the others looked like they were straight up praying for your safety. “How wicked of you to take advantage of the Prefect's ignorance, Malleus Draconia!” Vil crossed his arms glaring daggers at the prince, while you looked at Malleus with surprise “Is that what M.D stood for then? Hehe, well that makes stuff easier for me” “YOU'RE STILL TREATING HIM THE SAME?!!” You nodded at Deuce's words, your face turning into a frown, “Why wouldn't I? He's still a person like everyone else. Just because he's all powerful doesn't mean I should treat him any different” There was a thick silence for a minute before Malleus chuckled and nuzzled his face into your cheek affectionately “I wouldn't have any other way my dear” You patted his head softly smiling at him with joy ;
“Oh I'm going to grow grey hairs” Vil grabbed the bridge of his nose in exasperation, just what in the world is going to come out of this school if this gets out? All while Malleus had a boyish smile on his face while answering your questions and reliving in the fact that even after finding out who he is, he was still your sweet and beloved Hornton
#perhaps this is the fun of writing MalleYuu guys#no but fr this was hilarious in my mind#twst#twisted wonderland#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#malleus draconia#malleus x reader#malleus draconia x reader
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Dear Diary
(Name) knew something was wrong the moment she walked into their bedroom and found Sylus lounging on the bed with a familiar pink leather-bound book in his hands.
Her diary.
HER DIARY.
She froze. "Sylus."
Sylus, looking entirely too entertained, turned a page slowly before peering up at her with a devilish grin.
"Sweetie," he purred, crimson eyes gleaming, "did you know that you’re absolutely adorable when you write about me in here?"
(Name)'s soul left her body.
Her face erupted in flames. "WHA—"
Sylus cleared his throat dramatically, holding up the diary as if presenting evidence in a courtroom. And then, he started reading aloud.
"Entry #27: Ugh, why is my husband so freaking HOT?! It’s honestly rude. How dare he walk around the house with his stupid sexy muscles and that smug look, knowing FULL WELL what he’s doing to me—"
"SYLUS—"
"—AND HIS STUPID CRIMSON EYES, GOD."
She lunged at him, full force.
Sylus, being the absolute menace that he was, effortlessly dodged her, flipping onto his back while holding the diary out of reach.
"Slow down kitten, this is my favorite part." he said between cackles, his tone full of amusement.
"SYLUS QINCHE, I SWEAR TO EVERY GOD, I WILL DIVORCE YOU."
Ignoring her impending wrath, Sylus continued reading.
"Entry #34: I hate how much I love it when he calls me ‘sweetie.’ Every time he does it, my brain just goes blank. It’s honestly embarrassing. I am a strong, independent woman. But the moment he says ‘sweetie’ in that stupid, deep voice—"
"Sweetie~," Sylus cooed deliberately, smirking as she screamed into her hands.
"SYLUS, STOP READING."
But Sylus, immensely entertained, flipped another page.
"Entry #40: Okay, but I think I might be obsessed with his hands. Like, have you seen them?! Why are they so BIG? Why are his fingers so LONG? WHY DO THEY LOOK SO GOOD WHEN HE HOLDS A WINE GLASS...WHY NOT HOLD ME INSTEAD??"
Sylus wiggled his fingers. "Why, sweetie. You should’ve just told me you liked my hands this much."
(Name), seconds away from spontaneous combustion, grabbed a pillow and THREW IT at his face.
"GIVE ME THAT BACK, YOU MENACE! THIS IS PRIVACY INVASION."
Sylus effortlessly caught the pillow mid-air with his evol, as a swirl of red and black mist coils around the pillow before throwing it aside, still laughing.
"Not a chance," he teased, flipping another page. "Oh? Entry #51: ‘Sometimes I just stare at his jawline when he’s not looking. It’s honestly unfair. Like, how dare a man be built like a walking thirst trap—’"
"ENOUGH!"
With every ounce of power left in her body, She LAUNCHED herself at him, tackling him onto the bed.
Sylus grunted as she straddled him, pinning him down with both hands.
"Give. It. Back." she hissed.
Sylus, still grinning like a damn villain, held the diary high above her head, just out of reach.
"Make me," he taunted.
She narrowed her eyes. "Fine."
She leaned down, lips brushing his ear. "No kisses for a week."
Sylus’s smirk instantly vanished.
"—wait."
(Name) sat up, crossing her arms smugly. "No cuddles either."
"Now, hold on—"
"Also," she said sweetly, grinning evilly, "I’ll sleep in the guest room tonight, and you don't get to talk to me ever again."
Sylus immediately surrendered the diary.
"…You fight dirty, its unfair kitten." he muttered, pouting.
She snatched it back, triumphant. "Damn right, I do."
She stood up quickly, clutching the diary to her chest like a lifeline. "And if you ever do this again, I’m setting your expensive sportsbike on fire."
Sylus huffed. "As if you could."
She raised a brow. "Oh, I absolutely could."
Sylus sighed dramatically, sprawling out on the bed. "My wife, the absolute devil in disguise."
"That’s rich coming from YOU."
Still, as she stormed toward the bookshelf to hide her diary somewhere impossible to find, Sylus simply watched her with a lazy, adoring smile.
Because at the end of the day, his wife wrote about him in every single entry.
And that, more than anything, made him the happiest man alive.
Diary sittuations yk yk i just love how sylus would always take the chance to tease his beloved, he is just so so whipped im so happy i love sylus so so much
#lnds#love and deepspace#sylus x reader#lnds sylus#sylus x you#love and deepspace sylus#qin che#lads sylus#sylus
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Forbidden Promises



Chapter 1 (Series Masterlist)
Pairing: Modernau!Sukuna x Mother!Reader
Genre: Hidden Baby Trope
Summary: Reader opens up a bakery after running away from her three year relationship with Sukuna, effectively ghosting him and hiding away in the middle of the countryside. Unknown to Sukuna, reader also had a baby, and now is living peacefully until an unfateful meeting starts to pull her back into the life she so desperately escaped from.
Tw: none for now except that Reader is a mother, called mumma/momma, Hana is six years old, reader freezes up at the sight of Toji but just because she’s in shock, Toji being a warning of his own, there will be eventual smut so MDNI
Word count: around 2k at maximum I wrote this on tumblr drafts so idk lol
An: Literally my second work I’m posting on tumblr so please again be kind!!! Likes and reblogs and comments all greatly appreciated!!!

Theres something serene about the way you flit around the bakery, apron speckled with little dots of flour, tied snugly around your waist. Placing the fresh goods in the glass display might just has to be your favourite step ever, that or placing the fresh flowers into the flower vase that the florist across you always sponsored for a free cream bun.
The door chime rings as you turn around, wiping off the small beads of sweat that formed on your upper lip with your sleeve, pulling back the clear mask back on, a customer service smile immediately placed on your face,
“Glad I got to you before lunch rush!”
You smiled at the frequent guest, bending at the knees and catching the pink haired girl that ran straight at you,
“Momma! The teacher said my drawings have real uh-,”
Hana turns around to look at her friends mother, her friend still holding onto Aoi’s pants, shyly hiding even after knowing you for six months now,
“Potential, she said you have great potential Hana,”
Aoi smiled, patting Hana’s head and scooping up her son into her arms not soon after,
“Well if that’s it,me and the little one are going to get going now, Kenji’s cooking dinner for us,”
Aoi starts walking back to the doors as Hana wraps her arms around you, making you pick her up and rest her on your arm as you walk towards the door,
“I’ll see you tomorrow Aoi!”
You wave at the mother-son duo as they walk down the street, a warm smile on your face as Hana copies your gesture,
“Ok big girl! I want you to go get changed and mumma will get you some lunch hmm?”
Hana runs into the back room of the shop- connected to your house as soon as you set her down. A fresh set of gloves is pulled over your hands as you move back to the counter and await your lunch rush, already dreading the influx of customers.
The first man to come in makes you stop dead in your tracks, fingers frozen mid air as you almost greet the man. A scar runs down the left side of his lip, red and rough,
“Well ain’t it good to see you again,”
He grins, matching your half assed wave with his own as he walks to the counter whistling as he turns his head around and looks at your homely decorated bakery,
“Toji,”
You breathe out, barely short of a whisper. He cocks his head at you and smirks,
“Yep, that’s my name. Never thought I’d see you on an errand for Sukuna heh,”
A shiver runs down your spine at the mention of his name and you scrunch your eyes, willing yourself back to the woman who owned the bakery and not the woman who ran away six years ago,
“It’s good to see you again too Toji, is there anything I can get you?”
Your palms have moon shaped Red Crescents in them from how hard you’ve dug your finger nails, steeling your gaze at the cash register, pulling out a new order,
“Why the cold shoulder doll? We go way back don’t we?”
All Toji gets in reply is an eye roll and a scoff followed by you moving away from the counter to stand in front of Fushiguro with your arms crossed,
“I dated your boss for a few years, that’s hardly going ‘way back-,”
You further validate your point with finger quotes in the air,
“Now either order something or get the hell out Fushiguro,”
Tojis smirk falters for a second before he holds in hands up in mock surrender,
“Still fiesty heh doll, no worries I’ll be out of your way,”
He’s turned his back on you and finally is almost out of the door-
“Momma! I can’t find my hello kitty pouch!”
Your daughter comes storming out from the back door, red eyes squinted in fury as she holds out her bag for you,
Shit.

Current Next->
#jjk angst#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#sukuna ryomen#sukuna x you#sukuna#sukuna x reader#sukuna ryoumen x reader#sukuna angst#jjk fluff#jjk fic#jjk men#jjk x you#jjk#jjk fanfic#jjk sukuna#sukuna fluff#hidden baby trope#modern sukuna#alternate universe
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overstimulation with rafe? but instead of him doing it to his girl, it’s his girl overstimming him? maybe during a bj or just will not stop moving while riding him?
Tables Turned
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader
Warnings: NSFW/18+, smut, overstimulation (male receiving), dominance reversal, light power play, explicit language, degradation (light, Rafe’s side), praise, creampie, riding, name-calling, teasing, reader taking control, sensitive!Rafe, Rafe being whiny and needy, soft dom!reader, rough sex, possessiveness, revenge smut, long detailed scenes.
You didn’t plan it. Well, okay, maybe you did—maybe every time Rafe Cameron had you under him, writhing, begging, squirming from the intense, dizzying overstimulation he loved to drag out of you, maybe that’s when the idea first took root. The way he'd pin you down, mouth filthy with praise and taunts alike, chuckling when your legs trembled and your voice cracked, “You can take it, sweetheart, don’t get all shy on me now…”
Tonight, it was your turn. You needed to see him fall apart the way he so easily did to you.
The air in the room was thick with heat, sweat-slicked skin sticking to sheets as your thighs caged him in. Rafe lay beneath you, broad chest rising and falling, breath shallow and erratic, hair damp and clinging to his forehead. His pupils were blown wide, mouth parted and pink from all the needy kisses you’d stolen. You could feel him twitch inside you, still buried deep even after he’d come, whining into your neck about how good you felt.
You didn’t stop.
He had just finished—his hips arching up into you, hands gripping your ass with bruising force as he spilled inside, groaning your name like it was the only word he knew.
You knew he was sensitive. That was the point.
“F-fuck, baby, wait—shit,” he gasped, voice cracking into a broken moan as you rolled your hips again, slow and deliberate. His hands flexed at your waist, unsure if he wanted to push you off or pull you closer. “C’mon… I just—fuck, I just came, give me a second.”
You tilted your head, mock-innocent as your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently. “A second? That’s cute, Rafe. What happened to you can take it, sweetheart? Hm?”
His eyes snapped open, a mix of shock and arousal burning in them. “Oh, that’s what this is?” His voice was breathless, raspy with overstimulation and faint irritation. “You think you’re gettin’ payback?”
Your hips rocked again, slower this time, grinding down against him just right. Rafe hissed, his head falling back against the pillow. “Jesus—fuck—you’re tight, fuck, I can’t—”
You smiled, lips brushing his as you whispered, “You’re so sensitive, pretty boy. I didn’t know you could get like this.”
He cursed under his breath, bucking his hips involuntarily, making you gasp softly at the overstimulated twitch of his cock inside you. He was still hard—barely—but it was messy, shaky, desperate. His thighs trembled under your knees, hands scrambling to grip something—anything—just to ground himself.
You kept moving. Grinding, rocking, watching the flush climb up his neck, watching the way his jaw clenched as he fought the sensation.
“Fucking hell, babe,” he growled, low and pained. “You’re tryin’ to ruin me.”
You leaned down, your breasts pressing to his chest, breath hot against his cheek. “Now you know how it feels,” you murmured, teeth grazing his ear. “You always do this to me, Rafe. Think it’s cute how you make me cry when I’m too sensitive to keep going?”
He groaned, hands flying to your hips again, but you grabbed his wrists, pinning them above his head. His muscles tensed beneath you, but he didn’t fight it. His eyes rolled back slightly, thighs jerking as you clenched around him, dragging a needy whimper from his throat.
You smirked.
“That’s right, baby, you’re doing so good for me.”
His head shook slightly, as if he were trying to argue, but his body betrayed him—hips stuttering up, searching for friction despite the way his cock twitched helplessly inside your heat. His chest heaved, his voice cracking again, barely more than a gasp.
“Goddamn it, you’re gonna break me…”
You released one of his wrists to trail your fingers down his chest, nails scratching lightly, watching him squirm. Then you gripped his throat—not tightly, just enough to make his breath catch—and you slammed your hips down again, harder this time.
Rafe cried out.
“F-fuck, fuck, please—” He was whiny now, voice all wrecked and needy, something he’d never let anyone hear but you.
You licked into his mouth, taking his moan for yourself as you rode him harder, grinding your clit against him with every movement, your body buzzing with satisfaction. You’d already finished—twice—and now it was all about him. Breaking him the way he always broke you. Making him feel it.
His hips jerked up again, uncontrolled, and then you felt it—his cock twitching violently inside you, his entire body tensing.
“I’m gonna come again,” he choked out, almost begging. “Fuck—can’t—too much, baby, please—”
You didn’t stop.
“Do it,” you murmured, watching his eyes roll back. “Come again, pretty boy. Let me feel it.”
And he did.
With a strangled moan, his body locked beneath you, thighs shaking as he came again, helplessly spilling inside you, the overstimulation making his whole body tremble. His fingers dug into the sheets, knuckles white, eyes squeezed shut as he whimpered.
You rocked through it, dragging it out, making him feel every second of it.
By the time you stopped, Rafe was completely fucked out—his hair a mess, lips swollen and parted, chest heaving like he’d run a marathon. His cock twitched inside you, and when you finally lifted yourself off of him, he hissed, face twisting with a wrecked groan.
You flopped down beside him, smirking at the mess you’d made.
Rafe turned his head, eyes half-lidded and dazed, voice hoarse as he muttered, “You’re evil.”
You laughed softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Now we’re even.”
He swallowed thickly, still catching his breath, before he turned his head to glare at you—weakly.
“Fuck you.”
You grinned, stretching out lazily.
“Already did.”
#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron one shot#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron smut#rafe outer banks#rafe headcanons#rafecore#rafe imagine#rafe x reader#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron fluff#rafe obx#rafe x you#rafe x y/n#rafe x sofia#rafe x oc#rafecameroncockwarming#rafecameronmasterlist#rafecameron
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ON CAMERA

Pairing: hacker!theo x spy!reader
Warnings: 18+, smut under the cut, voyeurism, somewhat stalking, exploitation, semi-public, dirty talk, cursing, not for minors.
WATCHING you had become an obsession. That was almost all he did, day and night.
Every room, every corner of your house was monitored. At first, he tried to convince himself he was doing it because it was his job. But when he began to skip sleeping to watch you sleep, he realized it ran much deeper than just that.
You, of course, were clueless about the whole ordeal. You performed your routine as you normally did, without ever suspecting that you were being hacked, watched.
You woke up early, trained in your private training room, practiced firing shots, worked out in your personal indoor gym, went for a swim, then ate and used your computer to follow up on your latest mission.
You were supposed to find one of the most wanted hackers in the country, whose identity was a complete secret, and you were positive you had a name, and perhaps a location.
Theo was watching, a smirk plastered across his lips as you searched for him. But he was too good.
His identity had remained a secret for a long time, and would continue to remain so until he decided otherwise.
"Oh, pretty girl, you'll never find me," he crooned, a soft chuckle spilling past his lips as every link you clicked took you to a dead end.
Frustrated beyond measure, you finally decided to search a dating website for something, anything.
And then, you found someone whose profile matched the one you were looking for.
"Bingo—" you whispered victoriously, staring at the profile of a young man in his early twenties.
"Hate to break it to you, Princess, but that's not me," Theo murmured to himself, lighting a cigarette as he watched you through one of the little screens around him, zooming in on your low-cut top. "Cute top though... Nice rack you got over there..."
Your laptop screen was duplicated across his as you created your own profile for an online dating site, after you came across your suspect on the website.
He was there, reading all those messages you sent, all the flirting between you and your suspect, his blood boiling with every picture you kept attaching to keep this man interested.
And then, you agreed to meet this suspect of yours. You hadn't bothered with a wire, you were confident you could handle him on your own— with two knives strapped to one thigh and a gun strapped to the other underneath your satin minidress.
Little did you know, Theo had already bugged your phone, already gotten your every movement displayed all over his screen.
He tracked you entering the restaurant, he tracked you waiting there for hours... then, he noticed you taking the shortcut back home, walking through the park... but when he noticed you moving towards an abandoned alley on the map across his display, he instantly called the cops and gave them your exact location.
Turns out, you were wrong. Your suspect was just another suspect, and the real guy you were hunting was still out there.
This guy just turned out to be some nasty creep who faked his profile to prey on young women.
You didn't know how the cops knew your exact location, or how they found out, but whatever it was, you were grateful because the cops had arrived before the creep could hurt a single hair on your head.
And when you reached home, you entered the shower first thing, trying to relax a little, before you fell asleep, unaware that Theo had zoomed into your bedroom, so that it now covered his entire screen.
"I deserve a thank you for that, don't I, pretty?" he remarked, even though he was well aware you couldn't hear him at all, zooming in on your figure, who had just come out of the shower and was now wrapped in a tiny towel that barely covered you. "After all, I did save that pretty little ass of yours back there... Gonna give me a little show?"
As if you had heard his words, you picked out a pair of satin shorts and a matching camisole, placing it on the bed as you pranced around your room in your tiny towel.
You were unaware of his watchful gaze, observing you, unaware he was so fucking hard underneath his joggers, his ringed fingers resting on his waistband as he watched you with bated breath, his eyes dark, jealous of every tiny, water droplet that clung to your sacred skin.
After you dried your hair, you took off your towel and let it slide to the floor while you got changed.
Unfortunately for Theo, your back was towards the camera. A groan slipped past his lips when he realized he wouldn't be able to see those pretty tits of yours.
Fortunately for him, he would have a nice picture of your ass.
And when he zoomed in to your plump rear, he nearly came in his pants.
He could feel his precum stain his new boxers, a loud groan leaving his lips as he slid his joggers down, taking out his cock and fisting it, spreading the precum down the length.
He gives it a few pumps, just imagining what it would be like to bend you over the bed and fuck you from behind, pull your hair back into a ponytail and manhandle you the way he wants, because he knows you can take it.
He closes his eyes, groans spilling past his lips as he begins jerking his cock in his hand, his eyes opening when he hears a small grunt of frustration from his screen— your pajama top fell when you were about to put it on.
As you bend over, you give Theo the most beautiful view of your ass, his eyes glued to the screen as he jerks off.
"Fuck—" he hisses, pumping his hand up and down his shaft, quickening his pace as he approaches his climax. "Such a cute fuckin' ass..."
Right before you slide your shorts on, he takes a screenshot, then closes his eyes, grunts of pleasure leaving him.
His cock throbs and pulses in his hand, his rings adding a delicious friction as he slides his hand faster, not even bothering to conceal his moans.
He gasps your name as he finally climaxes, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, his lower abs clenching with the surge of pleasure that flooded through him, the thick, sticky liquid now sliding down his screen, across the screenshot of your pretty, little ass.
Not even bothering to clean his mess up, his eyes flicker over to his other screen, where you're scrolling through your phone, tucked under the sheets of your bed, completely oblivious to it all.
His head slams against his table.
"Fuck— I'm screwed..."
not proofread, wrote this in such a hurry. lmk if i missed anything.
tags: @the-sylver-dragon, @clairesblouse
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okay, now that this has occurred to me it feels so painfully obvious that like... how did it not occur to me before? but like... elements like "story beats" and "collaborative storytelling" are... well, first off, they do exist in D&D, as you've pointed out in other posts; delving into a dungeon is certainly a story in its own right, even if it doesn't involve elf kissing, etc. but setting that aside, those concepts in the sense that storygames use them are a lot more "portable" than the whole games themselves. that is to say, it's easier for these individual ideas to spread between people than it is for the whole system they're attached to.
anyway, wound up going a little further off tangent than i intended there so to refocus, where i'm going here is that it very likely isn't necessarily that these people consider there to be something shameful in a trad dungeon crawl but that... that's just not the kind of game they're drawn to. it's simply the first one that caught them (due to its massive marketing efforts) and after experiencing it, they just... think that that's what TTRPGs are. like sure some'll use different dice and maths, but really, how different could the overall experience possibly get? and since they don't know how different TTRPGs can be, they can't imagine that it'll be different enough to be worth the effort of leaving. of course this does feed into the learned helplessness thing, but...
we often talk about how thinking all TTRPGs are basically D&D with some tweaks is like seeing a MCU film and thinking that that's all of cinema, but honestly it's a lot more like playing Call of Duty and thinking that's representative of all video games. like... the most avant-garde of cinema still has way more in common with a MCU film than a triple-A games have with your average indie game. someone who has only played a couple blockbuster titles from EA or Ubisoft could never imagine what it would be like to play 1000xRESIST, Return of the Obra Dinn, Enemy Mind, Monster Prom, or heck, even something like Age of Empires II.
...and this is how you wind up with people asking why a game isn't about being a witch finding lost cats in the Alps.
D&D 5e fans talking about "story beats" and "collaborative storytelling" as if their game is a rules-light storygame feels like a massive cope, like as if there was something shameful about enjoying the pretty trad fantasy wargame. Like, there's the fact that a lot of advice and discussion about running the game that focuses on treating the game as a story being told to the players actually ends up running counter to the strengths of the system and its structure. Send those bitches to a dungeon, your game will improve much more than trying to think of themes or some shit. If you want to roll d20s while not playing a trad wargame and instead something more storygamey (but not too Forgey so as to not go scare the hoes) you can always check out QuestWorlds. Or Quest. You have options.
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Title: Ours to Claim



Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd x Reader
Fandom: UConn Women’s Basketball
Summary: who would’ve thought an old friend would have that affect on Paige and Azzi…
Sorry it took so long, @paigeluvvr
🏷️: @yailtsv , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paige05bby , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld
I was just about to head into the little café in Storrs when I heard my name called from across the street.
“Y/N? No way!”
I turned to see a familiar face—Josh, an old friend from high school. We hadn’t spoken much since graduation, but he was one of those people who always felt easy to reconnect with.
“Josh?” I grinned, surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“Business trip,” he said, jogging across the street. “Figured I’d grab some coffee before heading to my next meeting. How have you been?”
We started catching up, talking about old times, laughing about how much had changed since high school. It was nice, lighthearted, and completely innocent.
But the warmth in my chest quickly turned to unease when I caught sight of Paige and Azzi standing at the entrance of the café, staring at us.
Both of their expressions were tight, unreadable to anyone who didn’t know them well. But I did. And I knew that kind of silence meant trouble.
I wrapped up my conversation with Josh, giving him a quick side hug before he left, and turned to my girlfriends.
“Hey,” I said, a little breathless, stepping up to them. “I was just catching up with an old friend. He was in town for—”
“We saw,” Paige cut me off, her voice sharp.
Azzi crossed her arms, gaze cool but jaw clenched. “Looked real cozy.”
I blinked, caught off guard by the edge in her voice. “Wait, are you guys serious right now?”
Neither of them responded, just turned and walked into the café. I followed, confused and already irritated.
Lunch was tense. Paige barely touched her food, and Azzi was quieter than usual, both of them simmering in unspoken jealousy.
By the time we got into the car to head back to our apartment, the silence had stretched too thin. I sighed, arms crossed over my chest as I sat in the passenger seat while Paige drove.
“So are we gonna talk about this?” I asked, breaking the silence.
Azzi scoffed from the backseat. “Talk about what? How our girlfriend was giggling with some guy we’ve never even heard of?”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh my God, you’re both being dramatic.”
Paige let out a bitter laugh, gripping the steering wheel a little too tight. “Dramatic?” she echoed. “We show up for lunch and see you hugging some random guy, looking all happy and touchy, and we’re supposed to just be cool with that?”
“He’s not a ‘random guy,’ he’s an old friend!” I snapped. “I haven’t seen him in years, and we were literally just talking. You two are acting like I was making out with him in the street!”
Azzi leaned forward, her voice lower, but firm. “You weren’t, but the way he was looking at you? He wanted to.”
I scoffed. “And how the hell do you know that?”
“Because we know what it looks like when someone wants you,” Paige said, eyes locked on the road.
I clenched my jaw, frustration bubbling under my skin. “Well, too bad for him, because I’m already taken,” I shot back.
Paige pulled into our parking spot, threw the car in park, and turned to me with piercing eyes. “Are you?” she challenged.
I inhaled sharply, heat flashing in my chest. “You know damn well I am.”
Azzi tilted her head. “Then why didn’t you introduce us?”
I opened my mouth, then closed it, because I didn’t have a real answer. The truth was, I had gotten caught up in the moment and hadn’t even thought about it.
Paige smirked slightly, but it wasn’t a kind one. “Exactly.”
The moment we stepped into our apartment, I turned to them, ready to argue some more, but Paige was on me in an instant.
She pressed me against the wall, her hands gripping my waist firmly, possessively. My breath hitched, and before I could react, Azzi was right there too, her body caging me in from the other side.
“Wait—”
“Not so fast,” Paige murmured, her lips brushing against my jaw. “You had your fun catching up with him. Now, we remind you who you belong to.”
My heart pounded as Azzi’s fingers traced up my arm, her touch featherlight but intentional.
“You’re ours,” Azzi whispered against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.
Their jealousy had shifted into something else—something intense and undeniable.
Paige kissed along my neck, slow but with a purpose, her lips and teeth leaving marks. I gasped, gripping her hoodie, torn between protesting and melting under their attention.
“Look at you,” Azzi mused, tilting my chin so I had to meet her eyes. “Always saying we’re dramatic, but you love when we get like this, don’t you?”
I swallowed hard, my body betraying me as I pressed further into them.
Paige chuckled against my skin. “That’s what I thought.”
Their hands roamed, leaving no part of me untouched. A shiver coursed through me as Azzi’s fingers danced along the hem of my shirt, slowly inching it upwards. Paige’s hands were equally skilled, tracing the curve of my hips, sending sparks of anticipation through every nerve ending.
“We’re going to spoil you tonight,” Azzi whispered, her breath warm against my ear. “Completely and utterly spoil you.”
I didn’t doubt her for a second. There was a hunger in their eyes, a possessiveness that both thrilled and intimidated me. I knew I was walking a dangerous line, surrendering control to their desires, but the temptation was too strong to resist.
With a slow, deliberate motion, Azzi pulled my shirt over my head, tossing it carelessly to the side. The cool air of the room kissed my skin, heightening my awareness of their touch. Paige’s gaze intensified as she took in my exposed torso, her eyes lingering on every curve and contour.
“Beautiful,” she breathed, her voice husky with desire.
Before I could respond, Azzi’s lips were on mine, her kiss deep and demanding. I met her intensity with my own, losing myself in the intoxicating swirl of passion. Paige joined in, her hands tracing the sensitive skin of my back, sending shivers of pleasure down my spine.
Their kisses were a symphony of desire, a tantalizing blend of tenderness and dominance. I moaned softly, my body aching for more. They seemed to take pleasure in my reaction, their touch becoming bolder, more insistent.
Azzi broke away from the kiss, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Ready for the next step?” she purred, reaching for the bedside drawer.
My heart pounded in my chest as she retrieved a sleek, purple strap-on. I had seen it before, of course, but the sight of it now, in Azzi’s hands, sent a jolt of electricity through me.
Paige gently guided me to the edge of the bed, positioning me so that my legs dangled over the side. I watched, mesmerized, as Azzi expertly strapped the harness around her waist, her movements fluid and confident.
“Relax,” Paige murmured, stroking my hair. “We’re going to take care of you.”
I tried to follow her instructions, but my nerves were on edge. I had never done anything like this before, and the anticipation was almost overwhelming.
Azzi straddled my lap, her eyes locking with mine. “Are you ready?” she asked, her voice low and seductive.
I nodded, my throat suddenly dry.
With a slow, teasing motion, Azzi pressed the head of the strap-on against my entrance. I gasped, my body tensing in anticipation.
“Easy,” Paige whispered, her hands gently kneading the muscles in my shoulders. “Just breathe.”
Azzi began to move, slowly at first, testing my limits. I closed my eyes, focusing on the sensations that were building within me. It was intense, unfamiliar, but undeniably pleasurable.
As Azzi’s pace quickened, I lost myself in the rhythm of her movements. My body arched against hers, craving more. Paige’s hands roamed my body, teasing and tantalizing, driving me closer to the edge.
Just as I thought I couldn’t take anymore, Azzi stopped, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “Your turn to worship, baby” she commanded, her voice husky with passion.
I didn’t hesitate. I reached for Azzi, pulling her closer, my lips meeting hers in a searing kiss. Paige moved to stand in front of me, her eyes filled with desire.
I lowered my head, my tongue tracing the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. Paige moaned softly, her hands gripping my hair. I continued my exploration, teasing and tantalizing, until she was writhing in my grasp.
With a final, desperate plea, Paige guided me to her most sensitive spot. I licked and sucked, my tongue working its magic, until she was screaming my name.
As Paige’s climax subsided, Azzi took her place. I knelt before her, my eyes locking with hers. She was a vision of raw desire, her body trembling with anticipation.
I lowered my head, my lips brushing against her most sensitive point. Azzi gasped, her hands gripping my head, urging me closer.
I knew what she wanted, and I was more than happy to oblige. I licked and sucked, my tongue dancing over her sensitive flesh, until she was moaning and begging for more.
As Azzi’s climax approached, Paige took over, her fingers expertly teasing and tantalizing, driving her over the edge. Azzi screamed, her body convulsing in pleasure.
When Azzi had recovered, it was her turn to take control. She positioned me on my hands and knees, my back arched, my body exposed. Paige stood beside her, coaching her through every move.
“Easy, baby,” Paige murmured, her voice soft and encouraging. “Just take it slow.”
Azzi hesitated for a moment, her eyes filled with uncertainty. But with Paige’s guidance, she found her confidence.
She positioned the strap-on at my entrance, her hands trembling slightly.
With a deep breath, she pushed forward, slowly and deliberately. I gasped, my body tensing in anticipation.
“Relax,” Paige whispered, her hands gently stroking my back. “You’re doing great.”
As Azzi’s pace quickened, I lost myself in the rhythm of her movements. My body arched against hers, craving more. Paige’s hands roamed my body, teasing and tantalizing, driving me closer to the edge.
Just as I thought I couldn’t take anymore, Azzi stopped, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice filled with concern.
I nodded, my throat suddenly dry.“I don’t want to hurt you,” she said, her eyes searching mine.
“You’re not hurting me,” I assured her. “I want this.”
Azzi’s eyes lit up with renewed determination. She took a deep breath and began to move again, her pace quickening, her movements becoming more confident.
I closed my eyes, focusing on the sensations that were building within me. It was intense, exhilarating, and undeniably pleasurable.
As Azzi’s climax approached, I felt myself spiraling out of control. My body convulsed, my muscles tensing and releasing in a wave of pure ecstasy.
I screamed, my voice echoing through the room. Azzi continued to move, her own climax building, until she finally collapsed on top of me, her body trembling with exhaustion.
We lay there for a long time, our bodies intertwined, our breath coming in ragged gasps. The air was thick with the scent of sex and sweat, a testament to the intensity of our passion.
Finally, Paige stirred, her eyes filled with a mixture of exhaustion and satisfaction. “That was… incredible,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
Azzi nodded in agreement, her head resting on my chest. “Definitely one for the books,” she added, her voice equally soft
The room was quiet now, save for the slow, steady rhythm of our breathing. My body was still buzzing from the intensity of what had just happened—Paige and Azzi’s hands, their mouths, their whispered claims against my skin.
Now, I lay sandwiched between them in our bed, their warmth pressing against me from both sides. My skin still tingled where they had marked me, but the raw tension from earlier had softened into something gentler, something tender.
Paige was tracing slow circles along my side, while Azzi’s fingers were lightly combing through my hair, her touch soothing. I exhaled, my body sinking deeper into the mattress.
For a while, none of us spoke. The jealousy-fueled storm had passed, leaving only the quiet hum of comfort in its wake.
Then, Paige let out a sigh against my shoulder, her lips brushing my skin. “We were assholes,” she murmured.
Azzi hummed in agreement, her fingers still carding through my hair. “Yeah… we were way out of line.”
I blinked, tilting my head slightly to look at them. “So you admit you were being dramatic?” I teased, though my voice was softer now, no real bite behind it.
Paige groaned, burying her face against my neck. “Don’t rub it in, ma.”
Azzi chuckled, but then her voice turned more serious. “For real, though… we shouldn’t have made you feel like that. We trust you—we know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt us.”
Paige lifted her head, her blue eyes meeting mine. “But that doesn’t excuse how we acted. We let our jealousy get the best of us, and instead of talking about it like normal people, we just…” She trailed off, exhaling. “Yeah, we fucked up.”
I watched them for a moment, taking in the sincerity in their faces. My chest ached—not with anger anymore, but with affection.
“You really did,” I admitted, but my tone was gentle. “You made me feel like I did something wrong when I was just catching up with an old friend.”
Azzi winced. “We know. And we’re sorry, baby.”
Paige nodded, brushing a hand along my jaw. “We love you. So much. And sometimes, that love makes us a little…” She searched for the right word.
Azzi smirked. “Possessive?”
I rolled my eyes playfully. “A little?”
Paige huffed, nudging my nose with hers. “Fine. A lot.”
I sighed, letting some of the last remnants of tension leave my body. “I love you guys too. But next time, just talk to me, okay? Instead of jumping straight into jealousy mode.”
Azzi nodded, leaning in to kiss my forehead. “Promise.”
Paige followed suit, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek. “Promise.”
For a moment, we just lay there, wrapped up in each other.
Then Paige shifted, pulling the covers up around us. “You good? Need anything?”
Azzi’s fingers traced down my arm. “Water? Snacks? A bath?”
I smiled, feeling the warmth of their care settle deep in my chest. “Honestly? Just wanna stay like this for a while.”
Paige smirked. “Good, ‘cause I wasn’t planning on letting you go anytime soon.”
Azzi grinned. “Yeah, we gotta make sure you remember exactly who you belong to, right?”
I rolled my eyes but snuggled deeper between them. “Yeah, yeah… I got the message loud and clear.”
Paige pressed another kiss to my shoulder, and Azzi tucked me closer into her warmth.
---
■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■
-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶
-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️
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𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐒 𝐅𝐋𝐘!
following episode one of 'inside' — george clarke x fem!reader
by any means i do not own 'inside' and all credit is theirs (!!)
wc: 6.4K
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You sat yourself down on the chair placed in the middle of the room, a soft blue and purple light flooding the area. You smiled at the camera in front of you, feeling a little bit nervous at the entire concept of the show; but nonetheless, you still agreed to contribute to it.
It was difficult not to tell your friends about the whole thing, sworn (and to a contract) that you weren’t allowed to tell them you were entering a home with no outside contact for 7 days; only allowed to tell them you were taking a social media break.
Your family knew, obviously. But unable to tell your fellow youtuber friends was tough, because it was so painfully obvious where you were going.
Having to lie to George, Chris and everyone else was awkward. They had arranged plans for the next week and you had to reluctantly say no, because of course, you would much rather be stuck in a home with people you don’t know and then spending money that could potentially be yours.
Clearing your throat, you introduced yourself.
”Hello, my name is Y/N, I’m 24 and I’m a youtuber slash content creator!” You grinned expectantly at the camera.
Continuing, “Most of my content is just… me and my friends getting drunk and filming it because we think we’re funny!” You answered honestly, thinking back on the many times you got too drunk filming pub golf videos that George had to give you a piggy-back on the walk home.
The camera crew asked you how well you think you’re going to do in the challenge,
“I’d like to think I’ll do well, honestly!” You laughed.
”I spend money but I don’t spend so much at a time; like I could go weeks without buying something, then suddenly I’m a couple hundred quid down within a week?”
You continued, “I think I can go without my phone for a week; I’d like to think I’m not that addicted.” You laughed and cringed slightly.
”If anything I think I’ll miss my friends more than anything. I’m sure I’ll love the people there but it’s meeting new faces, I’d just love to walk in there now and see someone I know— My dog! That’s it, I’ll miss my dog this most!” You interrupted yourself, losing your train of thought.
The camera crew laughed at you and pushed the interest about your dog back home, “I just hope she’s being looked after. I’ve left her with George for the week so I think she’ll live?” You laughed nervously.
Upon this, the camera crew behind the device smirked and tilted their heads downwards so you couldn’t see their face. A couple of them turned around and subtly nudged each other.
It was at this point that the crew said that your interview was over and that it was time to enter the place you’ll be living in for the next week.
You nervously picked up your suitcase, clinging onto your comfort pillow in your right arm and hugging it tight to your chest. You couldn’t remember if you could take this into the house but taking no risks, you took it anyway.
You entered a white room with zero life in it; a metal detector gate stood in the centre of the room and a hole to put your luggage in.
”Oh, God.” You muttered under your breath as you realised there was no turning back now.
You paused for a second and scanned the area before realising it was just you in here, “Oh, I’m by myself… that’s embarrassing.” You laughed at yourself, knowing your friends at home were going to be making fun of you when this aired.
Walking through the metal detector, you lugged your suitcase behind you and only just recognised that you might have overpacked for a place that would not utilise your items in absolutely any way.
After putting your suitcase on the conveyor, you walked through to the main area in which you could hear some voices, none of which you could distinguish.
Walking through the empty hallway, you called out “Hello?”
Upon saying this, two heads poked out and their eyes widened at the sight of you.
The girl ran over to you and embraced you into a hug and introduced herself, “Hey, I’m Mya!” She smiled at you as you responded; she was happy there was another girl in the house with her already.
Meanwhile, the man who had seen you first turned his attention to the other male in the house as you and Mya embraced; “Yo, George, isn’t that your girlfriend?”
George furrowed his brows, a bit taken aback “My what?” He laughed a bit as his feet took him towards the hallway to peek at the new arrival; who was supposedly his girlfriend?
Pulling back from Mya’s hug, you made direct eye-contact with George, your best friend, standing a couple feet away from you. “What the fuck?” You shouted and broke out into a sprint towards him, him already on route to you.
”No way!” He shouted back and caught your figure into a tight hug, his arms wrapped comfortably around your waist and lifted you off the ground slightly as he buried his face into your neck amidst the hug.
You slung your arms around his broad shoulders and fell into the all too familiar embrace, catching his scent and subtly running your hands through the hair on the back of his head.
”Why didn’t you tell me you were coming in here?” He chuckled, his voice muffled as his head was tucked into your neck; he had settled you down onto the floor now but didn’t falter his grip by any means.
You laughed back at him, pulling your head away so you could maintain eye-contact with him, “Why didn’t you tell me?” You retorted jokingly.
PK looked confused, “So they are boyfriend and girlfriend then?” Mya laughed at him, knowing the extent that you and George got shipped on Tiktok, the occasional edit finding itself on everyone’s for you page.
You and George turned back to look at PK,“No, no! George is my best friend!” You smiled at him, still in disbelief that George was actually here; “Half my videos are just with her.” George finished for you.
PK tilted his head, pointing between you two in which at the time you realised George’s hands were still resting on your waist while yours were cradling the back of his neck.
Confused (still), PK shook his head and waved his hand in dismissal, completely convinced that he was looking at a couple in front of him.
As more people entered one by one, you and George dispersed from the group, his arm slung around your shoulders and keeping you against him the entire time.
You shook your head and looked up at him with a smile, “What are you even doing here?”
George smiled down at you as you settled themselves down on the sofa in the living room.
“Dunno, the Sidemen like me so I thought, why not?” He laughed at himself, you scooted closer to him as he picked up a cushion to set it down on yours and his lap.
He nudged you, “What about you, you little minx, how did you keep that a secret from me?”
You smirked and fiddled with the loose threads on the cushion.
”I didn’t tell anyone!” You admitted, “Not you, not Chris, not Arthur; I told no one! Not even— Wait…” You trailed off, eyes widening.
”George, who’s looking after my dog?” You said, fear flooding your features.
George laughed and threw his head back, a hand rubbing up and down your shoulder as you persisted on the whereabouts of your dog.
”She’s living with Chris and Arthur for the week.” He reassured you, an obvious relief washing over you as your shoulders fell from a hunched position.
In your own little world, you and George nattered away to each other, updating him on everything he’s missed and completely ignorant to the new members joining the house; because you were all too consumed with each other.
George just knew at that moment that when this aired, Chris was going to rip into the way he was staring at his ‘best friend’.
A shouting voice tore you out of your George-infused daze as it was directed at you two, “Wait, you’re that couple that’s always edited on my for you page?”
The blonde girl next to her snapped her head around to the pair of you sitting with George’s arm still around you, her eyes widening, “Holy shit! I love you two!”
George’s cheeks suddenly were painted a pink colour and you sported a flushed face. An awkward laugh bubbled from your chest, “What?”
Upon seeing your awkward faces and red creeping up your necks, the blonde girl covered her mouth and apologised, “Oh fuck! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—“
You stood up and left George’s touch, walking over to the girl with a comforting smile on your face.
“Don’t worry! Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N.” You said as you raised your arms out for a hug.
She met you halfway as she responded,“Ugh, you’re gorgeous. I’m Milli.” She smiled sweetly at you, peering over her shoulder to see the other girl still gawking at you.
The louder one strutted over and immediately pulled you into a hug, “I’m Farah, who is sorry about—“ “Oh, God. Don’t even worry about it!” You reassured the girl, finding it quite amusing that you and George had crept your ways onto other people’s for you page.
time skip!
The bedroom situation was the next challenge.
After introducing yourself to everyone (they acted as if they didn’t know who you were, but they had all seen the George x Y/N edits) you all made your way over to the bedrooms, some even breaking out into a sprint.
A couple people jumped onto their beds, claiming it as their own. There were two double beds and the rest were singles, but because there were only 10 people at the time, sharing a double bed wouldn’t be an issue at the moment.
George leaped onto one bed and said sarcastically, “Oh my God, guys, stop fighting over my bed!” You laughed at him and slowly sat down on the one remaining bed next to his.
You crawled onto your bed after readjusting the pillows against the headboard so you could sit up comfortably, leaning back and allowing your eyes to close momentarily.
It wasn’t until you felt a nudge on your shin that you opened your eyes and saw a George Clarke resting on his stomach, a pillow squished between his chest and the bed, his beaming smile staring at you.
You tilted your head at him and smiled softly, lightly kicking your foot back at him as his hand lingered on your leg; the rest of the room became a blur as he kept looking at you.
Sending a quick wink your way, he hoisted himself up off the bed and gestured a hand out to you. You took it as he helped you onto your feet, so the group could walk back into the living room per producers request.
The group all positioned themselves on the couch, George settling down on the end as you squeezed between him and Mandi. With little spare room on the couch, George carefully lifted your leg so it was led over his thigh and his hand rested comfortably on your knee. Opposite you, Whitney grinned at the action.
George was fiddling with his bottle as the group conversed, “So, Y/N what do you do?” Cinna asked you.
Hearing your name, you perked up. “I mainly do YouTube videos with this weirdo here.” You pointed a thumb George’s way.
The group laughed at you and took careful notice at your closeness with George. “And George, what do you do?” She continued.
George tilted his head, “I started on TikTok.” He trailed off as Whitney butted in. “Do you talk on TikTok?”
“Yeah.” George responded. Whitney persisted, “Why not in real life?” You furrowed your brows at this. George, oblivious to her, said “Should I stop?” as he pointed at himself jokingly.
“But you don’t talk in real life! I’m like “George…” Whitney said. She was then interrupted by the Sidemen walking in, smug smirks tugging on their face.
You and George smiled at the familiar faces, previously being in Sidemen videos in the past. You took notice that George’s mood had picked up more now he knew more than one person, becoming more comfortable in the odd place he was confined in.
JJ began for the group, “Welcome to the new series of Inside!”
The group whooped and cheered at this. Everyone was excited at the prospect of winning a million pounds.
The Sidemen began listing off the rules and concept of Inside, everyone nodding along and the occasional verbal reaction.
Harry pointed at you and the group, “You’ll be glad to know, the shop is now open!” You and Farah made eye-contact and started jumping up to run to the shop as a joke, the group laughing at the pair of you.
JJ said one last thing before everyone bid their goodbyes to the Sidemen, “Good luck, motherfuckers!”
You all clapped and half heartedly cheered, more nervous than excited at this rate because the money you could win was in the hands of everyone else.
Farah quickly asked as they were leaving, “Wait, can I ask? When is the first challenge?”
“Shut up.”
time skip!
The group all discussed that you wanted to keep the prize money at least 800K, agreeing with a ‘hands in the middle’ before you all jogged down to the shop.
As you entered, half the group were already in there and complaining about the lack of choices they could purchase, Milli however wasn’t upset about the prices at this point.
You and George lurked at the back, shoulder to shoulder and laughed at Mandi as she stood up to the camera asking about the whereabouts of her vodka.
As a quarter of the group decided on food and drinks as the first purchase before you butted in with a suggestion, “Wait, surely we should get some entertainment first, just so we don’t all want to die on the first day?”
George, Dylan and Milli pointed at you, nodding and verbalising their agreement. Milli grabbed your upper arm and took you both to the camera to confirm your order.
“I’ll say table tennis bat and you’ll say table tennis ball, right?” You asked her, she smiled as you both poked your head up to the camera and held your microphone to your mouth.
“Can I confirm the table tennis bat,” “And the table tennis ball, please?” You and Milli spoke, giggling at each other after as you made eye-contact.
You distanced yourself from the group and they began talking louder and speaking over each other, finding yourself settled next to George who had barely spoken outside of you since being in here.
Looking at the list of items, you nudged George, “What the fuck is a ‘golden straw’?” You laughed and furrowed your brows.
You saw his eyes scan the list and chuckle at the item considering its price, “That’s actually a stupid price.” He thought out loud.
“I swear if anyone buys that shit…” You closed your eyes and shook your head, sneaking your arms around him so you could link arms.
The door suddenly opened to reveal the items you and Milli had bought. She turned around and called your name to come over to her. You walked over and tugged George close along behind you.
You saw Milli’s shoulder drop and she leaned down to pick the item up, “What?” You questioned. She turned around and lifted up the one tennis bat.
“No!” You gasped and tightened your grip on George’s arm. “Is it one?” He asked, dreading the worst after your reaction.
“It’s one!” Milli confirmed your suspicions. You groaned, cursing out the Sidemen as everyone around out kept bickering. You watched as Dylan walked back to the camera.
“I’m confirming that you did scam us with that one, I’m not going to lie. So we are ordering one more bat.” He purchased the other bat.
You turned around to face George, smiling up at him as his figure towered over you. “I’m gonna kick your ass at table tennis.” You promised to him and yourself. Laughing at you, he drifted his hands down to rest on your hips, “Best out of three; guaranteed I’m gonna win all three.” He replied smuggly, looking down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Not bothering to listen to everyone talk about eating arrangements, you yanked George’s arm and the pair of you ran back to the living room, table tennis bats in hands and laughing in joy. Even in a confined house with 10 other people, you found George attached to you as if it was only the pair of you; no one else mattered except for him.
George walked around the table, shoving you lightly before the game started in an attempt to throw you off. You cleared your throat, “This is a practice round, no cheating and no foul play!”
“You’re only saying it’s a practice round so you’re not embarrassed when I kick your ass.” George winked at you and threw the table tennis ball down onto the table.
You heard a playful gag next to you, “Ew, guys stop flirting!” Cinna stated sarcastically. You and George only laughed and began playing against each other.
George played against you for a couple rounds, the game going back and forth a handful of times. Eventually, after a good 15 minutes, you beat George in a tight game. George only shrugged and walked backwards to sit on the couch, leaning his body back and relaxing for the first time since walking in here.
You tilted your head and called Dylan up to play against you, still high on adrenaline. “Dylan, come play the reigning champion!”
Hearing this, George’s head popped up with furrowed brows. “What? I thought you said it was a practice round?” He asked in mock offence.
You shrugged, “Yeah it was… until I beat you.” George suppressed a laugh into a groan and rolled his head back as you shot him a sickeningly sweet smile; knowing he had been caught out by you once again (not that he did anything to stop it).
interview room!
“I mean, I think I’ve started off decently. Barely spent money so far, but I haven’t been down there since I got the table tennis stuff.”
“I mean, I don’t really care about winning now that I’ve beaten George in table tennis! I’ve known him for years, played against him thousands of times and now suddenly hours into my new home for the week and straight off the bat I’ve already taken the win”
“My main concern right now is that I’m so hungry. And I know the meals are gonna be shit, but honestly, I could take anything right now!”
After gossiping about the whole pot noodle fiasco, an alert came up on the screen: ‘Lunch is now ready to collect from the shop’.
“Oh, thank God.” You groaned, feeling the effects of a constant rumbling stomach taking a toll on you. George, who was sitting opposite you looked puzzled and partially offended, “You’re taking the piss. Lunch?”
Leading the pack down to the shop, you skipped down to the final step and came face to face with an open trap door and met some… unpleasant food. Picking up two of the pots, you inspected the food.
George creeped in behind you and peered over your shoulder. Upon seeing his presence, you passed him his meal and stiffled a laugh at his scrunched up nose and face of disgust.
Grabbing a spoon, you opened the pot and attempted not to be put off it immediately. You watched Mandi verbally express her utter hatred towards the food; placing a hand on her shoulder, you urged her to try a bit before she opted out. “Hey, Mandi. Just try a little before--”
“Can I confirm an upgrade, please?” You sighed as she ignored you. Feeling awkward now, George wrapped his arm around its usual spot on your shoulder and tugged you against him, whispering in your ear not to worry about it; unbeknownst that the cameras can see and hear everything.
The pair of you walked away from the chaos of buying upgrades, chatting to each other and sitting back down onto the couch.
Cinna watched you and walked up to you, “Come with me to get the rest?” She urged, knowing many people had left scraps of food down in the shop and was aware of your hunger earlier on.
You smiled at her and left George’s touch, him frowning slightly. You followed side by side with Cinna, strutting into the shop and splitting the weight of the spare food between the two of you.
As you began walking away, you spotted something shiny left in the shop.
“No fucking way.” You murmered, now having personal issues with this goddamned straw. Cinna turned around at your words, eyes widening and walking over to pick up the straw.
“Is there a golden straw in there? Did they leave it?” She questioned no one in particular.
You threw the straw a rude face, “That shit cost fucking £2,500?” You shook your head, already having some suspects on who bought it.
Snatching the straw off her, you stormed ahead to the living room to ask some very needed questions; Cinna laughing at you as she trailed behind, finding your beef with the straw hilarious.
“Who bought this?” You spoke loudly as you entered the room, watching George on the beanbag throw his head back in mock frustration, murmuring some swear words in the wake.
Cinna walked in and made a bee-line for Mandi, “It was you, wasn’t it?” Mandi’s lack of an answer told you the whole story.
Passing the straw to Mandi, you felt a hand brush yourself and looked down to George playing with your fingers as he remained seated, his eyes watching the conversations rather than you. You suppressed a smile at this and tried to fight back a blush from creeping onto your face.
You were snapped out of your thoughts as the voice of Tobi rang around the house, “It’s time for your first challenge.”
time skip!
Finally, it was you and George remaining; neither of you had been selected to compete in Insider Dating (a part of you felt like they set you two up on purpose, but by no means were you complaining).
“And lastly… George? Y/N?” Simon smirked, holding his card close to his chest.
The group whooped and cheered as the pair of you stood up, even JJ was jeering you on. Tobi leaned in to whisper something in his ear, and JJ let out his gawking laugh in response. You groaned, fully aware it was something revolving between you and George.
George sat down opposite you, a worried grin painted on his face as you sucked in a deep breath, picking up the menu in front of you.
“For not the first restaurant date for these two,” Simon started, smirking as he watched both of your faces grow a shade darker and keeping your heads down low. Some of the other contestants let out a wolf-whistle and slammed the table as they laughed at Simon’s joke. “On the menu for you two is Shocking Questions.”
As you inspected the menu more, confused on what was happening, George had already figured it out. He looked at the Sidemen for confirmation and said, “Oh.” You looked up at him, hoping he wouldn’t see your blush. “What’s that?”
“We’ll be getting shocked.” He said with a lack of enthusiasm. You closed your eyes and sighed, nervous about both the questions and being shocked; but remaining determined that you wouldn’t press the red buzzer.
Simon started, “Okay, George. You’ll be answering the questions first, so, Y/N, please ask the first question.”
You took a deep breath, inspecting the question before looking up at George and asking him, “What is your worst online dating experience?”
Unsure when to start, George looked around him and then at the camera, “Okay, um…”
He placed his hands on the table in front of him, “I matched with somebody on--” He cut himself off as an electric jolt sent his body forwards as he groaned in pain. You covered your mouth in shock and offered a hand out on the table for him to grip onto for comfort.
Taking your hand very quickly he continued, “That’s a lot of power. Um. I matched with somebody on Hinge, and I was speaking to them for about two days. Voice notes back and forth, it was fun. And then--”
Another jolt came through and he squeezed your hand hard, cursing out in the meantime, “Oh, God! I’m sorry, Y/N!” You shook your head and reassured him, “No, no! Keep going, you’re doing great!” The contestants laughed at you as you attempted to comfort George as more jolts came through.
“Fucking hell. Um, then I tried to meet up with them, but it turns out they weren’t real. I was there for an hour and a half.” You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at his story, focusing on him and keeping eye-contact with him to try and urge him through this. Also thinking at the same time, if his questions were bad, think of the masacre for you.
“I came back home, reverse Google Image searched them--” George’s body locking up in pain from the electric, “And they weren’t real. Fucking hell, that’s a lot!” He groaned, still squeezing your hand across the table.
Simon urged you to ask the next question, “Could we please have the second question?”
Your eyes widened at the question and George felt more jolts come through, “Oh, my God, please, can we make it a quick one?” He begged, playing with your fingers and cracking your knuckles as a way to distract himself from the pain. “Oh, my God. That was actually quite bad.”
You began starting the next question, interrupted by George burying his head into his bicep and groaning out, “Fuck!”
“If you had to snog, marry and avoid three Insiders, who and why?” You stared into his eyes as a faint pink sprinkled his cheeks; you couldn’t decipher whether that was out of pain or embarrassment of the question.
George pulled a shocked yet puzzled face, “I don’t fucking know!”
PK from the side shouted out, “Yes, you fucking do!” while pointing your way; you were unable to see this as your eyes were trained on George in front of you.
“Both genders?” George joked to try and diffuse the situation, making the Sidemen laugh as jolts of electricity came through more frequently and painfully.
George shook his head and gestured towards you, “Snog you, avoid Farah,” He turned around to face her and sent an apologetic look her way, “Sorry, you’re quite loud!” The rest of the group laughed as he turned back to you, “And marry Y/N!”
The group, including the Sidemen all screamed and pointed accusing fingers at George, while you sat with a mouth open and a surely bright red face by now. “You said Y/N twice!” Simon raised his brows and shouted at the man. “You can’t pick the same person twice!” JJ laughed.
George’s eyes widened as he realised what he did, “Shit! I meant marry Y/N, snog Y/N-- Shit!” He cursed as another jolt came through and stumbled over his words, “Fuck! No! Snog Mya!”
Everyone, including you laughed at him as Simon now approved the answer, and George’s grip on your hand faltered and he hid his face on the table, embarrassed beyond belief.
Some of the girls awed at his answer as the chaos had only just settled down, the focus turning on to you (as if it wasn’t already).
You rolled your head back in an attempt to release some nerves but failed to do so. You swallowed hard and looked in front of you to see George, now sat upright, staring at you with something in his eyes that you couldn’t decipher.
Looking down at the table, you saw George’s extended hand open for you, “Tit for tat?” He tilted his head, smiling at you as you accepted it, your palm brushing his. He took a deep breath as his heart jumped a little bit at the intimate moment shared in front of everyone and dozens of cameras.
Simon perked up again, “George, could you please ask the first question?”
George looked down at the question sheet, eyes widening at the second question in particular, but chose to tackle that situation when he got there.
“Y/N,” You were waiting for the first shock but it hasn't come yet, “Why did you break up with your last boyfriend?” George asked.
Your mouth dropped open in shock, “Oh, God. Alright, so basically--” You screamed as the first shock came through and your body jolted forward in a much similar fashion as George’s previously had. You gripped his hand hard, feeling bad that you could potentially be hurting him in the process.
“You’ve got it, you’ve got it.” George encouraged you, a soft smile etched across his face.
“Shit! Okay--” Another shock going up your spine, painful but quick, “He said I was in-- Fuck!” More and more shocks came through. You understood you would have to rush this answer because there was no way you could get through it at this rate.
“He said I was in love with someone else apparently, so he-- Shitting Hell!” You gripped George’s hand. “So he cheated on me and I snitched on him to his mother!” You blurted out, hearing the loud laughter from the contestants and the Sidemen around you, even George was trying and failing to suppress a laugh.
JJ’s laugh stood out from everyone elses, “Damn Y/N! We’ll take that. George, next question?”
George’s smile fell slightly, “Right, Y/N…” Your body jolted forward in pain, “Shit! George, I love you but please hurry up!” The group laughed at your reaction.
“Okay! Okay! Y/N explain the story of your first kiss.” His voice faltered towards the end, heart thumping in his chest as your face paled.
Your eyes widened and you shook your head rapidly, “No! No! I can’t say that!” Tobi butted in, “Answer or lose 10K!”
A horrendous jolt of electricity went through your body and your hand held George’s while the other bunched up the cloth of the table as you squeezed it.
“Tell us, Y/N!” You heard other contestants shout at you. Milli shouted, “Come on, Y/N! You can do it!”
You tossed your head back, “Fuck! Okay! So basically, we were younger and neither of us-- Shit!”
“Neither of us had had our first kiss yet, so we--” You groaned, head now falling forwards as your hair covered your face slightly. George leaned over and brushed it away, tucking it behind your ears.
“Push the button, Y/N!” JJ urged. “Fuck off!” You screamed back, some of the group crying with laughter and standing up in doing so.
“We played odds on that we had to kiss right then and there! That’s it! Please turn this fucking thing off!” You begged, feeling sweat drip from your forehead now.
However, Simon decided to alter the rules of the game.
“Y/N, we’re not accepting that until you tell us who it was with.”
Your eyes bulged out of their head as the screaming around you ensured, George falling unusually quiet compared to everyone else as his gaze remained locked on you.
“What the fuck? That’s not-- Oh, God!” You groaned, “That’s not fair!”
JJ and Tobi just laughed, “Just tell us!”
You shook your head rapidly, “No fucking way!”
“Say it!” They screamed.
“No!” You responded with the same energy.
“You’re not leaving until you tell--”
“George!”
Everyone around you jumped up in shock and amusement, smacking the table laughing and pointing fingers at you and George.
George’s mouth also dropped open in shock as he didn’t think you would actually admit to it, blush coating his neck and cheeks as everyone was looking at you two and that you had exposed your deepest secret.
Your body relaxed as the shocks stopped but you didn’t necessarily win; sure, not losing 10K is great, but now on day one of your new home, everyone would talk about you and George, definitely not helping your case that you’re not dating.
Simon removed his hand from covering his mouth in shock, “Well… I guess you passed.” He didn’t know what to say, no one did really; everyone was just screaming incoherent words in disbelief of this entire situation.
You had never wanted to hear the words of Tobi more in your entire life, “Insiders, you have completed your first challenge of the series.”
time skip!
After a long first day, you had settled yourself down onto the couch in the living room. Led down, you sported George’s hoodie as he found himself back at the table tennis court; this time battling against PK. Blocking everyone out, you drift off for your much needed nap.
As George played against PK, the new contestant DDG had some questions.
“I didn’t know the Sidemen let couples on here.” He thought out loud, catching everyone in the room's attention. They looked at him with tilted heads. “Who’s the couple?” Cinna asked.
DDG pointed a thumb in your direction as you laid unconscious on the couch, “That’s your girl, right?” He nodded towards George.
George chuckled and looked down, “Yeah, George. How’s your girl?” PK teased.
Shaking his head, George served the tennis ball nonchalantly, “She’s just my friend.” He didn’t know who he was trying to prove, himself or those around him.
Dylan butted in, “Oh yeah, I just kiss my best friends every now and then.”
Without looking at them, George continued, “Ah! I was her first kiss, that doesn’t mean we just kiss every now and then.”
“Bet you’d like that, huh?” PK laughed. In mock retaliation, George served a harsh ball his way, the mini group laughing at him.
DDG looked between you on the couch and George standing to his right, “Hold up… you’re not dating her?” George shook his head.
He raised his brows, “For real, man?”
George slowly nodded, “For real.” He sounded partially disappointed but masked it as he continued playing table tennis.
time skip!
You found yourself standing in the shop alone, inspecting the items as you were yet to purchase anything for yourself, excluding the singular tennis bat earlier. You heard someone creeping up behind you.
“What are you thinking about, beautiful?” George whispered from beind you, crouching down slightly so he could reach your height. You leaned back into him and his hands wrapped around your waist.
“Why the fuck do I want that jiggly ball so bad?” You thought out loud. George responded with a loud gawking laugh, stumbling back a bit and bringing you with him.
You turned around and slapped his chest, “No, George! It’s not funny! Why does every part of me need that jiggly ball?”
He looked down at you with a suggestive eyebrow raise, your face fell as you understood what he was insinuating. “Oh, shut up!”
Laughing, you held his hand and walked out of the shop together. You settled on the couch again after your nap, reintroducing yourself Patrice as the last time you saw him was when you were half-asleep.
A couple of minutes later, you heard your name being whispered at the door. Standing up, you followed the noise and was met with George suppressing a wild grin and something stuffed up his shirt. “Oh, God. What did you do?” You smiled.
George leaned down and dragged the pair of you into the corner of the room, “I might have suggested that Farah get something for you.” Your eyes sparkled in excitement.
“No, you didn’t…” You mumbled.
It was then that George whipped out the bright purple and blue jiggly ball from underneath his shirt, handing it to you and bouncing it between his hands in the process, giggling in excitement. “Oh, my God!” You squealed.
You took the ball from him and played with it for a moment before looking up to see George already staring at you. You shook your head, smiling at him, “Thank you!”
You pulled him into a crushing hug, his strong arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you off the ground, swaying the pair of you back and forth slightly. He placed you back down as you seperated from the hug, hands remaining on your waist as you stared at each other, not breaking eye-contact.
Neither of you said anything to each other, but your eyes said so much more. The hand that wasn’t holding the ball reached up to his face and urged him to tilt his head to the side, before you leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
Pulling away from your peck, you smiled at him and backed away slightly. You tossed the ball so it hit his forehead lightly and bounced back into your hands, “I’ll see you later.” You bit your lip to keep your smile from growing.
Walking away, you didn’t notice that George watched you as you went; a hand pressed up against his cheek where you had kissed him, only hoping it was closer to his lips.
As bedtime rolled around, you situated yourself in your bed next to George’s. You rested on the side facing him, finding him doing the same and could recognise his beaming smile even in the darkness.
You rolled onto your back, staring up at the ceiling as the tiredness took a toll on you. You let your hand flop off the side of your bed, not thinking too much of it.
Then, you felt a soft brush against your hand and looked down at it, seeing George’s hand lacing his fingers with yours as his hand was stretched off his own bed. Leaning off the side of his bed, George pressed a soft kiss onto the back of your hand, signaling a sweet ‘goodnight’ to you before the pair of you dozed off.
Maybe this weird, confined lifestyle where everything was overpriced and challenges determined your mood for that day wasn’t too bad. But maybe, it was rather the person holding your hand that could help you tolerate this.
taglist (ps love u all):
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