#but yeah. highlight was the putting a name to things

[leonarecs]

it’s been far too long since i read a sweet little fluff fic with mattheo being a lovestruck, pussy-whipped idiot, and this was the perfect comeback 🤭🫠 i was already laughing when you first mentioned this idea, but now having actually read it and seeing how much emotion was poured into it?? the vulnerability, the insecurity, the love?? pizza, your pen is DANGEROUS.

Mattheo had a talent for attracting trouble, or more, it had a way of finding him.  It sniffed him out like a dog detecting a buried bone. It didn't seem to matter what he did, for it always caught up in the end, the blame easily latching onto him. 

firstly, i adore how you characterize him, and second, i love your metaphors sm 😩

Depending on the nature of his “crime” he’d done all from writing lines, a total snooze fest, to cleaning out bedpans in the infirmary with the absence of magic making him nearly have to clean his own vomit

THE WAY I GIGGLED PLSSSS the image of him gagging and having to take a deep breath to steady himself is killing me

Mattheo, of course, wasn’t oblivious to his difficult personality, disorder and predictions that clung to him like a deathly plague, as if being tied to the Riddle name wasn’t bad enough.

i just really like this sentence so i had to highlight it, you ate down here girl!!!

But with Mattheo’s stubborn nature, your comment hadn’t affected his efforts, only pushing him harder, making him resilient for he was far too smitten and prideful to shove his ever-growing crush back down and well you hadn’t completely rejected him after all. 

AAAAHHHH i can’t explain to you how much i fucking love this trope, when she keeps rejecting him and it only motivates him to keep coming back for the challenge 🤭 it’s the cutest fucking thing ever. also mattheo actually having a crush???? I’M SCREAMINGGG

Because finally, one lesson had knocked some sense into Mattheo, that making you mad was something he wished on avoiding at all costs. One wrong comment and he could be obliterated with a single glare consumed by a thousand suns. 

mattheo being scared of his girlfriend is something i never knew i needed. GIVE ME MORE!!!!

He enjoys observing you from afar, taking the time to study and admire the treasure that is his. 

i died here. give me a man obsessed with me please 😔✊

Except for now, when he had to watch the not intended for-you-slug land right on the pretty apple of your cheek, the way it slid slowly dragging a disgusting trail of goo. Fuck. FUCK.

I’M LAUGHING SO HARD RIGHT NOW HAGDHFG girl this idea is really something else n i love it, the second FUCK really resonated with me

Smile with smug satisfaction at the fact he’s evaded any penalty from his immature antics, till he hears her mention your name, serving the detention to you instead of him.

OH HELL NAHHHH WTF THE WAY I WOULD—

She loves me. She loves me. She loves me.

SHUT UPPPP HE’S SO FUCKING CUTE IN THIS MY HEART CAN’T TAKE THIS RIGHT HERE 

“how do you put up with him?” “yeah. like he’s so immature.” “If he was my boyfriend, I wouldn’t stand for that level of embarrassment.” 

IT WAS AN ACCIDENT YOU LITTLE BITCHES 🙄 some fuckass friends they are, i would not put up with this kind of talk about my man 😒 and the fact that he heard it omg poor baby 😭 he’s already so insecure when it comes to relationships, don’t do this to me please.

how i’m looking at them “friends” ^^

“Did I fucking ask for an opinion?”

PERIODDDD SHUT THOSE BITCHES UP QUEEN DEFEND YOUR MAN!!!!! the pride and happiness he felt in that moment while still being afraid to approach her AAAAAHHH they’re fucking adorable

“Why don’t you keep that piggy nose out of the muck you're trying to create and close your fucking trap? Nothing useful is coming out of a dirty trout like that.”

THE WAY MY JAW DROPPED PIZZAAA YOU’RE SO FUCKING FUNNY FOR THIS I CANNOTJSNDHDHS

His eyes roam the agitated and dry look you're throwing back at him, arms tightly crossed, pushing your chest upwards, which only makes it harder for him to behave. For despite the terror, you hold over him, you look way too tempting when you're pissed. 

this little pervert omfl, this is not the time riddle 🤭 (it’s always the time)

mattheo rn ^^

Your expression only deepens to one of repugnant as if you couldn’t stand his touch and it pangs at his heart a little. He doesn’t show it and leans in to kiss your cheek, trying to suck up to the obvious sign that you're still mad at him. “Did I tell you how pretty you look today?” Another delicate kiss closer to your ear before his back slams against the wall and he groans, shooting you an unappreciated glance. “Got it. Not in the mood for flattery, huh?” 

i’m obsessed with this whole paragraph— the vulnerability from mattheo at the start, the CHEEK KISS??? (sorry i love cheek kisses), the compliment to change the subject without apologizing, the way he instantly submits to her jshdfh pizza i swear you somehow know how to always add in the tiniest little details that catch my eye and make me go feral

You start, sliding your hand up to tangle into his hair, holding onto him with a tight grip that has him eliciting a small grunt.

PULLING HIS HAIR LMFAOOOOO SHE’S TOO FUNNY the way he doesn’t even do anything about it kills me, i love this dynamic so much

You mutter with little hate, exhaling a huff, leaning your forehead to his. His presence, warm and inviting, brings comfort and you close your eyes, instinctively massaging his scalp lovingly.

it’s so soft, i’m sobbing. i would read an entire book of these two.

Only to groan as you bite it and he pulls back. “Fuck! Woman.”

this made me giggle so hard bc it makes me think of how you always call me “WOMAN” when i piss you off with my stubbornness in dms 🤭

“I get it ow stop whacking me. Save it for the bedroom, baby.”

STOPPP HE’S SO ANNOYING I CANNOTTT AJKHFDBS also “baby”?? i’m melting. (giving johnny kavanagh heheh)

also me @ mattheo bc he never knows when to give it a rest 🤭 ^^

That he loves you with every fibre of his body, every vein pumping blood to his thriving heart that seems to beat faster just at the thought of you. How his soul feels completely entangled with yours and how he’d rather deal with a thousand howlers from you than be with anyone else.

there’s something so soft and all-consuming about this paragraph— it captures that intense, wholehearted kind of love without sounding cliché. the way it moves from the physical (“every vein pumping blood”) to the emotional (“his soul entangled with yours”) is just really beautiful. and that last line? he’d take all your fire over anyone else’s calm, choose you over anyone else in the world I’M BAWLING.

listen here girl. i demand at least five more works about this pairing of hotheaded reader and mattheo, you hear? 😤😤😤 i’m so in love with this characterization of mattheo in a relationship, he’s so perfect with he’s all soft and obsessed with someone <3

THE TROUBLE WITH YOU

based on this goofy idea! Mattheo has a tendency to create trouble whether he wants it or not which doesn’t bother him until he accidentally drags his temperamental girlfriend in. warn: fem!reader, bit of swearing + wc 3.7k

Mattheo had a talent for attracting trouble, or more, it had a way of finding him. A frequent problem that followed him all his life like a shadow, clinging to his soul, unable to escape the labels that tainted him; troublemaker, scoundrel, hellion or a vermin pest, he only seemed to add to problems when he was around.

It sniffed him out like a dog detecting a buried bone. It didn't seem to matter what he did, for it always caught up in the end, the blame easily latching onto him. 

Mattheo, by nature, thrived off adrenaline and the rush of rebellious acts, and so he didn’t take offense to it, learning to embrace it as just a part of him. He started wearing the title of Slytherins delinquent, hot-tempered bad boy as a badge of pride, an honorary medal that earned him a fearsome rep amongst the halls of Hogwarts.

He made himself comfortable around a similar pack of friends that only aided in fueling his need for mischief by scheming in all sorts of shenanigans, usually in targeting Peeves.

Detentions were an easy breeze, having done every form of punishment under the sun. Depending on the nature of his “crime” he’d done all from writing lines, a total snooze fest, to cleaning out bedpans in the infirmary with the absence of magic making him nearly have to clean his own vomit to missing out on trips to Hogsmede which he didn’t care for too much enjoying the extra solitude.

He took each penalty like a walk in the park, each lesson he was supposed to learn going in one ear and out the other, never cowering from disappointed looks he received or scoldings. That is until he met you.

It didn’t take Mattheo long to realize you and trouble weren’t exactly acquainted. You weren’t even on a first name basis, which left him completely dumbfounded because he’d never met someone who matched his temper level, even topping over on the scale past him, who hadn’t ended up in trouble.

People with attitudes and uncontrollable tempers don’t bypass discipline. They’re like magnets, the first kid to be provoked for a reaction from the class. He knew all too well the inner turmoil of trying to control himself from snapping, before the rage would just take over and he’s being dragged away back to the cell of detention.

You grabbed his attention instantly, completely intriguing him, a mystery that made him excited to unravel, but he knew you had your doubts, hesitations that originally held you back from agreeing to that first date.

You weren’t wrong to keep your distance. Mattheo, of course, wasn’t oblivious to his difficult personality, disorder and predictions that clung to him like a deathly plague, as if being tied to the Riddle name wasn’t bad enough. Cursed, he liked to think. He recalls how you had shot him down, the way your eyes had rolled so ethereally with an amused smile and the simple but clear words; you’re pretty to look at, but your trouble. 

But with Mattheo’s stubborn nature, your comment hadn’t affected his efforts, only pushing him harder, making him resilient for he was far too smitten and prideful to shove his ever-growing crush back down and well you hadn’t completely rejected him after all.

Naturally you came around, and he remembers watching how you smiled, eyes softening, illuminating with bright gleams of sunshine, and he swore his whole body exploded as if someone had set off fireworks inside his stomach. His face stretched, his lips widening to impossible limitations, his heart taking on the beat of a fast-paced drum solo, and he knew he wouldn’t let his doomed and darkened life impede him from your inviting warmth.

For two powerful forces of intense energy, the two of you didn’t butt heads nearly as often as one would suspect a couple of hotheads would do. Because finally, one lesson had knocked some sense into Mattheo, that making you mad was something he wished on avoiding at all costs.

A pissed girlfriend was not a task many boyfriends wanted to achieve, but for Mattheo, it tangoed between life and death. Already needing shades just to roam the levels of hotness you radiated from head to toe. One wrong comment and he could be obliterated with a single glare consumed by a thousand suns.

His first encounter he had handled oh-to-naively, enchanted by your sweet way, often made him forget about your temper. For how could someone so lovely and precious even produce the levels of anger you conjured upon him. As if the god of Ares himself had possessed you, and for once he felt ready to run as if he had a tail dragging between his legs. Since then, he promised to do all he could to exclude you from trouble, and keep you happy, very happy. 

Unfortunately, trouble had a way of finding him even before he could spot it. It all had happened so fast, what had started as a fun little challenge; Enzo pestering him like usual with an opportunity too good to resist. An easy target of Longbottom's drooping mouth, a boring ol lesson stuck with skittish Porlucks and a few slimy slugs as ammunition, the perfect recipe for a harmless prank. 

He wasn’t sitting with you, not unusual, for you often stayed with your friends during lessons, wanting to actually learn something. He’s not sure what you’re able to understand with old rambles Grubbly-Plank practically spitting the information at you. He preferred to keep his distance, but he didn't mind. He enjoys observing you from afar, taking the time to study and admire the treasure that is his. 

To watch the cute little crease crinkle between your brows as you lean closer squinting, the obvious reasoning Mattheo had continued to point out that you definitely needed glasses. To the way your eyes brighten with awe and fascination, examining the small creature nervously trotting around before you.

You loved to learn, wanting to absorb as much knowledge, commonly spending hours in the library till Mattheo would wake you snickering at the ink stained on your face. Your commitment to academia had always left him anxious about his life and personality. He never wanted to dim your spark by spreading his problems onto the weight of you. It's why he tried to keep his antics to his friends, promising you he’d keep you out of the playing field.

He studied your eyes again. They were certainly a feature he could lose himself in for hours, a true piece of art. Except for now, when he had to watch the not intended for-you-slug land right on the pretty apple of your cheek, the way it slid slowly dragging a disgusting trail of goo. Fuck. FUCK. His eyes widened with pure shock, flicking his gaze back between you and his now empty-handed slingshot. That wasn’t supposed to happen. How could that have happened? 

Another loud sneeze rings out beside him and firm fingers dig into his shoulder as Blaise clings to stabilise himself. “Argh!” Blaise’s grip tightens, practically leaning his full weight onto Mattheo, as he exhales what might just be a full on exorcism. “Fuck I hate spring.” Blaise grumbles, wiping under his nose, scrunching it as the specs of hay left out for the Porlucks continue to leave an irritated itch. 

Mattheo can hardly contain his temper, realizing that Blaise had startled him with his bloody allergies and in doing so made him lose his balance and his target. There's a collective shriek of screams when the slug comes whizzing back, narrowly missing him, before it smashes flat into a tree. He dodges, ducking his head, his hands flinging up reflexively, whipping his head over to catch the smug grin you’re shooting his way. 

His brows raise with amusement, happy to see you’re finding the humour of the situation, though his attention is quickly grabbed as the anxious Porluck’s neigh disturbed. Startled by the screams, they turn aggressive towards the class, already uncertain around humans.

The entire class explodes into stressed energy, trying to save themselves from the new threat of an ankle bite, submerging back to the stair banks as Grubbly-Plank attempts to calm the creatures. 

He almost wants to laugh at the scene, join in with his buddies who are pissing themselves beside him at the chaotic commotion unfolding, soak in the joy of the period ending early at the call of Grubbly-Plank's aggressive dismissal.

Smile with smug satisfaction at the fact he’s evaded any penalty from his immature antics, till he hears her mention your name, serving the detention to you instead of him. Desecration of a creature, Merlin, what a fucking joke. He snickers at the idea, hardly agreeing a slug's life is worth crying about, but clamps his mouth shut, catching the loathing glare you shoot him. 

Eyes narrowed into two thin slits of pure anger and he gulps, offering a sheepish smile, knowing he’s fucked up. He watches your expression for a further reaction, for you to blow your top at him and explode into your usual fiery rage, but it never comes.

Instead, he’s left staring at the back of your head, your hair flicking like a crack of a whip before your storming off up the stairs, the force of your steps strong enough he’s just waiting for the earth to split and swallow him up. 

Enzo, who's trying not to laugh, comments, “She seemed to take that quite well, don’t you think?”

Mattheo’s face stiffens, shooting a grave side eye at his mate snapping, “Shut the fuck up.”

“What? Come on mate, I didn’t know all that was gonna happen!” Enzo defends himself, finally spluttering out a laugh.

The others follow behind the rest of the class. They chatter between themselves, finding amusement in the drama that just took place and how they look forward to the lash out waiting for him. He grumbles childishly, ambling in thought behind them, his stubbornness fighting with himself whether to follow you, conjuring up any and every single way he can apologise for getting you in trouble.

He hates apologising, he’s. He's never been good at it. Opening up vulnerably to someone, having to swallow his pride and admit to a fault, he’d much rather get torched by a dragon than face that kind of confrontation.

Not to mention it's your rage he’d be coming face to face with. His stomach churns, the strings of his fear tightening, and he considers giving you all the bloody space you could ever need. But he knows that would only make things worse, leaving it to fester and create a deadly divide between you two. 

When the group reaches the top of the castle grounds, he splits from them, ignoring their not-so-helpful yells of encouragement. His eyes scan the area for your distinct features, wiping his hands on his trousers, reaching into his back pocket to fish out his lighter and cigarettes. He lights one, inhaling deeply the rich hit of nicotine, shaking his hair to try to at least appear aloof as he finally spots you. She loves me. She loves me. She loves me. 

His thoughts do little to calm him, his legs hesitantly taking shorter steps to prolong closing the gap between the two of you. It’s then he overhears your friends gossiping about him, with judging whispers;

“how do you put up with him?” “yeah. like he’s so immature.” “If he was my boyfriend, I wouldn’t stand for that level of embarrassment.” 

He feels the usual spark of irritation creeping up. He’s never liked your friends constantly nagging to you about it. The way they stick their snooty little noses into his business, your business, if only you’d let him, he’d give them a piece of his mind.

Their words irk him, digging into his insecurities as his steps slow before he ducks behind a column. He takes a long inhale to soothe his shaky heart, each beat rattling in his ribcage as the ringing of sudden doubt and anticipation grows louder.

His ears stay tuned, listening for your response, his eyes sharpened on your body language and how you stop walking. He can’t recall you ever claiming to be embarrassed or ashamed of him, despite all the chaos and destruction that swells around him, like dust kicking up in a storm. Always turning the cheek whenever trouble ventured into the conversation, he knew your view on the subject wasn’t always in agreement, but you never scolded him. 

It's something that's always made his heart swell with pride, glowing a little warmer with happiness and love, tucked in the safety of your accepting nature. Though his promise to keep you excluded had stayed true till today, he suddenly begins questioning his whole relationship and the foundation of your trust.

Feeling as if he had taken you for granted your acceptance and love, and the undeserving pill starts bubbling back up. He takes another inhale of his cigarette, needing to calm himself and wait to see your response before he spirals into a black hole of anxiety.

Your brows arch offended, stopping mid walk. “Excuse me?” Your tone is anything but polite, as they slice through the air, making the rest of your friends pause their chatter gazing at you.

“What? Just stating the obvious, babe.”

Mattheo peeks his head further around to catch the awaiting fury from earlier seep out, steam evaporating off your body.

“Did I fucking ask for an opinion?”

He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, overcome with pure pride and delight at you having his back. His cheeks burn from the wide smile that's brimming his face, unable to take his eyes off you, feeling the need to just walk over and kiss the shit out of you. If he wasn’t still scared of the anger radiating off you, he would, but he leans back instead, not eager to be spotted spying. 

“Why don’t you keep that piggy nose out of the muck you're trying to create and close your fucking trap? Nothing useful is coming out of a dirty trout like that.”

The insult leaves your mouth with little remorse, not appreciating your friends trying to trash talk Mattheo. He may have his moments you don’t exactly approve of, but at the heart of him, he’s a misunderstood boy just trying to have fun, and you have no intentions of being the one to dampen his cheeky spirit. 

He lets out a laugh, coughing on the smoke, unable to contain his amusement at your feisty defence at shutting down their remarks. Your head turns, catching the peak of unruly brown curls behind the stone and you excuse yourself, done with the conversation anyway.

His eyes meet yours and he pulls back at the speed of light, banging his fist against his chest to ease his coughing fit. He opts for a charming, relaxed smile when you appear around the column, scratching the back of his neck to appear natural. “Baby! hey just wondering where you wandered off to.” 

His eyes roam the agitated and dry look you're throwing back at him, arms tightly crossed, pushing your chest upwards, which only makes it harder for him to behave. For despite the terror, you hold over him, you look way too tempting when you're pissed.

It's a dangerous combination, wanting to ravish you while you look ready to cut his head off. He stubs his cigarette out on the stone before dropping it and reaching out to embrace you, hands sliding around your stiff waist.

Your expression only deepens to one of repugnant as if you couldn’t stand his touch and it pangs at his heart a little. He doesn’t show it and leans in to kiss your cheek, trying to suck up to the obvious sign that you're still mad at him. “Did I tell you how pretty you look today?” Another delicate kiss closer to your ear before his back slams against the wall and he groans, shooting you an unappreciated glance. “Got it. Not in the mood for flattery, huh?” 

Your eyes narrow at his resort to sarcasm. “Why are you spying on me?” 

He places a hand on top of yours flat against his chest, his thumb caressing your skin and suddenly he lights up, smiling. “What? You mean…overhearing you defend me?” His smile curves, unable to contain his smug pride. He knows he's dancing with the devil, but if you're talking to him, that's one step closer to forgiveness and Mattheo’s all about taking bold moves. 

“Don’t get all cocky. That doesn’t mean you're off the hook.” You start, sliding your hand up to tangle into his hair, holding onto him with a tight grip that has him eliciting a small grunt. “You got me fucking detention, Mattheo. I swear to Merlin I'm beyond pissed. That's the one thing I asked- to keep me out of your bloody trouble, but no! You're like-.”

You halt the nearing destructive rant, noting his eyes, the vulnerable look he’s expressing back to you. Spotting the remorse, his brown eyes lidded with a softness that makes him look like a wounded puppy. His curls slip loosening in your hold as you relax your hand, taking a deep breath counting to ten in your head, to contain yourself from saying something you’d regret. 

“I should really slap you.” You mutter with little hate, exhaling a huff, leaning your forehead to his. His presence, warm and inviting, brings comfort and you close your eyes, instinctively massaging his scalp lovingly.

A small habit between the two of you, allowing your focus to shift to the way his curls feel between your fingers. Soft and thick, you coil a finger repeatedly around a strand as he hums, appreciating the calming and wholesome moment. 

His hand rubs gentle caresses on your hip, his lips pressing another light kiss to your forehead. He releases a deep sigh, relishing in the sweet hold you have him in. Like a mother scolding their favourite child, he relaxes into your touch. He chuckles, “You could if it makes you feel better.” 

Lifting your eyes to give him an incredulous look, before you roll them playfully, glad he’s lightened the mood. “Don’t be ridiculous.” A smile slips past your lips in amusement, always stubbornly fighting how easily he breaks your tough barrier. “You’d probably like it knowing you.” 

He reaches down, cupping your cheeks as the last remaining anger melts, flashing you a cheeky grin, “Mm, only if it's you causing the pain. I'd gladly be your sexual punching box.” 

His lips are on yours in an instant, passionate, apologetic and full of love. He adores kissing you, the softness and curve of them sliding with him so perfectly. He enjoys moulding your burning energy to a sweet, almost pliant demeanour as he devours you.

His tongue flicks, pushing greedily for entrance and he protests when you don’t grant it instantly, clearly playing hard to get. He groans, wrapping his arms around you fully, suffocating you in his need and desire, his hands tangling into your hair. Tugging for a redo and grinning wickedly at the delightful gasp you utter, his tongue sliding dominantly inwards to clash with yours.

Only to groan as you bite it and he pulls back. “Fuck! Woman.”

You grin with gratification, “Told you not to get cocky, baby.”

He rolls his eyes with feigned irritation. “Leave the decapitating to the slug, ye-ow!” He groans again as you whack the side of his head before he laughs. “Okay! Okay, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.” He drags out the word dramatically before he cups your cheeks again. He licks his lips, gazing more sincerely at you. “I am sorry, though. I wasn’t even aiming for you. Truly!"

You snort, rolling your eyes playfully at his defensiveness. “Uh huh, sure it's not throw-a-slug at your girl's day?”

“Ha ha, no. You know I'd never throw a slug purposefully at you.” He grins, finding pure amusement in the conversation. “I'd throw a bucket of water to cool your crazy ass down-okay! I get it ow stop whacking me.” He laughs, loving your angry reactions. “Save it for the bedroom, baby.”

Another eye roll slips out naturally. “You’re such a menace.” The words are sweet like a compliment, and a glimmer of a smile slips out. “Yet, somehow, I still love you.”

Mattheo’s eyes brighten, spotting the tension easing between the two of you, his heart flushing at your words, strengthening the security between the two of you. “A fuckin miracle is what it is.” He jokes as he pulls you to his side, planting a loving kiss on your head. “I love you too, sweetheart, though not sure how I ended up with a girl who can give me a heart attack by being sweet and deadly.” He teases before rubbing your side tenderly, “but I feel damn lucky to be loved by you.”

He walks, guiding the two of you around the column further down the vacant corridor. He sighs troubledly, his fingers drumming on your skin, anxiously preparing his next words. “I know I can be a bit much sometimes, cause nothing but trouble-"

You cut him off quickly. “You're not.” His eyes flicker down upon your face, instantly listening in, his ears tuned in like a dog. He doesn’t exactly want to spill off into a massive vent about how he’s a wreck, a mess of a man who can’t help that trouble follows him.

That he loves you with every fibre of his body, every vein pumping blood to his thriving heart that seems to beat faster just at the thought of you. How his soul feels completely entangled with yours and how he’d rather deal with a thousand howlers from you than be with anyone else.

“Yeah, so what? You're a bit of trouble. But you’re more than that, Mattheo..” There’s a pause as you look up to him, finding that there’s never a real reason to get mad at him. For if someone can accept the uncontrollable temper that pumps through your veins that you must be the luckiest girl.

You don’t care what anyone thinks, whether he’ll care about the titles that have followed him his whole life. They don’t own him, and he continues to push past the boundaries of a meaningless label. With eyes shining brightly, you smile lovingly, expressing affection for the man who makes trouble look too damn good. “Besides, it's starting to grow on me.” 

ty to my bestie @acourtofchaos for reading and letting me nag her <3 and tagging the pookies who encouraged me to write it: @thatdammchickennugget @papercorgiworld @weirdowithnobeardo dividers from here! ty for reading lovelies!!!!

navigation. masterlist. mattheo masterlist. ©️pizzaapeteer 2025

[minisugakoobies]

Match My Freak | JWW

Pairing: Voyeur!Wonwoo x Reader

Genre: smut, non-idol!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: non-consensual voyeurism, dirty talk, non-consensual use of camera/recording, masturbation (f), use of sex toy (vibrator), mentions of masturbation (m), mentions of oral sex (f receiving), cumming in pants, unreliable narrator, Wonwoo is not a good guy here (ymmv)

Word Count: 1.8k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me

Summary: Your neighbor loves it when you put on a show for him.

A/N: Yeah so... I just like the thought of a Wonwoo who likes to watch. 🤷‍♀️

🚨 IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH NON-CONSENSUAL VOYEURISM, DO NOT READ! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. DO NOT COMPLAIN TO ME - YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU CHOOSE TO READ. 🚨

Unbeta’d as usual. If you like this, please let me know! I’d love to hear what you think (but please be kind I’m fragile 🥺) 💕

SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

The sun’s beginning to set when Wonwoo takes his seat in the ratty old armchair by the open window. He removes his glasses, carefully wiping them clean with a cloth he pulls from his pocket before placing them back on his nose. He’s a little early tonight, but it’s fine. He’ll wait. He’s a patient man. 

The minutes fall away like dominoes, each one ticking into the next. The sun dips lower, casting dark shadows over the alley that separates his apartment building from the one next door. A flicker catches the corner of his eye and turns to look, gazing into the window directly across from his bedroom. As he sits quietly, patiently drumming his fingers on the soft cushioning of the chair, a figure enters the room.

Wonwoo has loved you from the moment he first saw you. It’s been a little over six months since you moved in across the way. In all that time, he hasn’t learned what you do or where you’re from or even what your full name is. But it’s fine. None of that matters. 

He’s sure you were made for him.

You walk around your bedroom, following the same well-worn path that you do every evening. Disappearing into your bathroom and emerging a few minutes later in a silky bathrobe. Sitting at the vanity to attend to your skincare routine, gently massaging your beautiful skin with rich creams and moisturizers. Wonwoo appreciates the way you care for yourself. He likes that you have your nightly rituals. He has his own, too.

He reaches for his camera.

It’s late summer, the time of year when there’s no relief to be found at night, the air just as warm and suffocating as it is during the day. Sweat prickles on Wonwoo’s forehead, but he ignores it. He’s glad your landlord is as cheap as his. Air conditioning units would only make this difficult for him. He’d figure it out, of course, but it wouldn’t be as easy as it is now. 

Sometimes he thinks it’s a sign from the universe, how easy this is. Proof that the two of you are meant to be.

He brings his camera to his eye, playing with the focus, until the pretty face reflected in the vanity mirror is perfectly clear. Click-click-click goes the shutter, the only sound that can be heard in Wonwoo’s bedroom, other than his heavy breathing. 

His room is pitch black around him. Wonwoo’s always been comfortable with darkness. It hides all manner of sins. It hides him from your view on nights like this, even when you walk over to your window to lift the sash. A light breeze ruffles the bottom of your bathrobe, exposing more of your thighs to Wonwoo’s hungry eyes. His finger strokes the shutter button again. 

You undo the belt of your bathrobe, letting it fall open, and Wonwoo captures the reveal of the sheer babydoll chemise beneath. It skims the tops of your thighs, not quite covering the matching pair of panties you wear with it. Wonwoo’s gaze roams over your body, admiring the way the clingy material highlights your skin. He loves when you dress up for him. You never bring anyone home. Who else are you wearing these things for, if not him?

Of course, you’ve never acknowledged his presence. That’s part of your game, isn’t it? To display yourself for him but never look at or talk to him. Put on a show but never react to him taking your photo or touching himself. 

He’s very good at playing your game. After all, he wants to win. 

You’re a worthy prize.

You recline on your bed, propped up against a stack of pillows, and start scrolling on your phone. As he watches, shutter clicking, your free hand slides down your torso. Your fingers curl, pressing into your covered pussy, rubbing in slow circles. Oh. Wonwoo swallows thickly. 

It’s one of those nights. 

Silently, he puts his camera down again. Locates the button that switches from photo to video. And clicks it. 

The red light flickers on. 

Wonwoo quickly brings the camera back to his eye, practically cracking his glasses in the process. He fixes the focus, aiming the lens at the hand between your legs. As you start to caress harder, your legs part slightly, giving him a clearer view of your panties. The tiniest swirls of lace are visible to his eye, as is a growing wet spot. He silently thanks the universe that he splurged on an expensive camera model. 

Your nightgown is rumpled up around your waist as you press your hand more firmly against your cunt. It isn’t enough, judging by how you dip your fingers beneath your panties to glide over your slit.

“Come on, baby.” Wonwoo wasn’t planning on adding narration to this recording, but the words slip out anyway, in a low, urgent tone. “Slide them in.” He zooms in again, on the wetness gleaming on your fingertips. 

He’s disappointed when you pull your hand away, but that feeling is short-lived when he sees what you’ve reached for - the bright red toy that you keep under your pillow. It’s long and thick and Wonwoo feels his cock jump at the thought of it spreading you open. 

He could use it to help stretch you for him. 

Swiftly, rather desperately, you shimmy your panties down your legs, and Wonwoo’s mouth floods with saliva, nearly choking him as he stares entranced at your bare pussy. He wants to put his lips on it, kiss it until you’re squirming, pleading for him to slide his tongue inside. You’d make such a beautiful mess of his face. 

His earlier impatience is forgotten now as you work yourself up, dipping the tip of the vibrator in and out of your soaking folds, the quickening rise and fall of your chest letting Wonwoo know how much you’re enjoying teasing yourself. By the time the toy disappears into your cunt, Wonwoo’s just as breathless himself, and hard as a rock. 

“Yeah, just like that,” he murmurs, adjusting his lens again to capture the deft movement of your hand. “Fuck yourself for me.” For him, just him, and no one else. 

As if obeying his very command, your hand moves faster, and your mouth drops open in a pleasured gasp. Wonwoo groans. If only he could record the sounds you’re making, too. But you’re not loud enough for his camera to pick them up from here. 

He clucks his tongue. There’s no way he’ll accept such weak noises when he’s the one fucking you. He’ll coax loud cries from you any way he can. 

Your body undulates like a wave, hips canting as you plunge the toy deeper, and something inside Wonwoo snaps. There’s too much distance between you right now. With an aggravated huff, he slips off the chair, kneeling in front of his window. He lets his camera rest on the window sill as he lines up his shot. It’s better. But it’s not enough.

He needs to be closer.

As quietly as he can, he clambers out onto the fire escape. 

He’s taking a risk by being out here. There are no lights in the alley, but the glow of the moon is bright. That doesn’t stop him. He moves silently, crouching against the chipped metal railing, camera peeking through the slots, closing the distance between you as much as he can. 

For now, anyway.

His grip on the camera turns to iron. He’d rather fall off this fire escape than drop it. He glances around the alley, double checking that there’s no one else around. Once he’s reassured that it’s just you, him, and the moonlight, he refocuses - first his mind, then the lens. 

His breathing quickens as the toy slides into your folds again and again. He’s never envied an inanimate object more. He licks his lips, imagining the taste of you on his tongue. You’re not sweet, he’s sure of that. There’s nothing sweet about you, the way you tease him, leaving your curtains open like this. Inviting him to watch. 

Tempting him to do more.

His cock strains against the fly of his jeans, and he drops a hand to his crotch to squeeze himself, biting back a moan. Desire overwhelms him, but he can’t risk jerking off out here. The absolute last thing in the fucking world that he needs right now is to get caught. That would fuck up his plans. That would destroy him.  

Your other hand plays with your breasts, pushing your babydoll up until one is exposed, thumb rolling over and around the nipple. Wonwoo pictures himself there, lying beside you, head bent to take your other nipple in his mouth. He’s not sure he’d be able to hold himself back and allow you to finish yourself off. His fingers twitch at the thought of taking the toy from you and fucking you with it, through orgasm after orgasm, until you’re both drenched in sweat and exhausted.

He shoves the fantasy aside for later and retrains his steady gaze on your motions. He grips himself again when you start to pump the toy in and out faster. Your hips rise to meet each thrust, and Wonwoo might ruin his boxers at the sight. Fuck, he can see through the zoom how soaked the insides of your thighs are. He palms his erection slowly, trying to give himself just the slightest bit of pleasure, not enough to tip it over, only enough to feel good, and that’s when you start to come. 

As he gawks open-mouthed into the lens, your pretty pussy swallows the tip of the toy one last time. Then your hand suddenly lets go, grabbing a fistful of sheets instead. You shudder and writhe, and Wonwoo nearly drops his camera as he loses control too, the wet warmth of his cum spreading in his pants. 

Doubled over on the fire escape and breathing hard, it takes him a moment to regain his composure. Once he’s recovered, he stops the recording, and lifts the camera to his eye again to take another look. You haven’t moved from your bed, but you did remove the toy, and now have one hand tracing lazy circles around your clit. He wonders if you’re going to go again. Some nights you seem insatiable, seeking your high with a fervor that gives him chills to recall.

He’ll make sure you get your fill, when it’s time. 

For now, he’ll keep on watching. 

He’s always been a patient man. 

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

[cheolieji]

Seungcheol

warning: Smut,unprotected sex, breeding kink and idk what else im too lazy

A/N: This is in no way to say mingyu acts like this. it's just part of the fiction

not proofread

I'm lowkey bad at writing smut🫢

feel free to send requests!

check [17] (pink highlighted) to see my yes and no's

seungcheol is the type of guy to walk on the street side of the sidewalk

seungcheol is the protective boyfriend everyone wishes for

the perfect and clingy boyfriend

you wanna wear a short dress? go ahead, he can fight

a guy just looks at you the wrong way, his fist is tightened, his jaw is clenched, and his death glare... goddd if looks could kill

you love it when he's protective over you

but something happened that made you think, is he a little too protective?

now you're sitting in his living room beside him, hands rubbing against each other, nervous to say it

seungcheol, of course, notices this. "You okay hun?" "Yeah! why wouldn't i be?" weird... but he just nodded his head, turning his attention back to the show playing. the sound of tv playing in the background mixing with your thoughts, should you really ask him about something so little that could turn into a heated argument?

"Hey-" "babe-" "Yeah? you say it first"

"no its just uhm. i" his eyebrows raised in confusion. What are you trying to tell him?

"Okay. will you promise not to get mad?" "Of course baby, why would i get mad at you?

"You know how we went to the kims gathering?" he just nods "yeah and how mingyu kept looking at me and stuff?" "Where are we going with this" his eyebrows still raised

"Nothing like that. It's just the way you were glaring at him. felt a little.... i don't know.. rudee? I'm sure he didn't mean it like that. " "Ah, that? i know him, babe he doesn't have good intentions. when he looks at someone like that, it means he wants something out of them." he pauses for a second, "and plus, you're mine..."

you blushed in your seat

"okay good i guess... i thought you were being a little too protective"

"Hey. It's good to be protective over what's mine!" he giggles while hugging you and placing you on his lap. and you're straddling him now. Suddenly, the air shifts

noticing this, seungcheol pulls you in closer before pressing a kiss on your lips. It starts to turn into a makeout session with you grinding on him while heavy breathing leave your mouths

"Can i?" As he's looking down at your pants, you nodded. he takes your pants along with his off. "No panties? want me to fuck you that bad? huh?" You nod again, eyebrows furrowed. "Say it, baby, i wanna hear you" "yes please cheol just fuck me, please"

he teases your opening with his dick before slowly entering your already wet cunt. shit did he get bigger?

"You feel so good, baby, just for me." Now he's fully inside you. He waited a bit for you to get used to his size

he's balls deep inside you, and you're a moaning mess, but he's looking at you like you're the prettiest thing in the world

he's hitting all the right spot "ah- cheol please" your gummy walls wrapped around his thick cock feels like heaven, for the both of you

he's leaving hickeys all over your neck as you're riding him like there's no tomorrow

bouncing on his dick as you're moaning his name loudly. it's like music to his ears

you feel the familiar pit in your stomach "fuck cheol im gonna cum" he lets out a loud grunt before cumming inside you "fuck ill fill you with my babies"

" gonna make you forget about that fucker" he continues thrusting inside you until you reached your high before softly kissing you

you let out a loud moan before falling on his shoulder. "You know, if you wanna put babies inside me, we should probably do more." "you wanna move it to the bedroom?" he carries you to the bedroom for a night of pleasure

[kxsagi]

Can i request reader putting on makeup on those Giant plushies and sending them to the bllk men and saying "look at how beautiful you look such a beautiful princess" GBSHSBSBAHA

“𝐠𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩, 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐛𝐨𝐬𝐬”

a/n: YES THIS REQUEST IS SO CUTE AND FUNNY OMG (had too much fun here)

i decided to use the same characters as the ones from the “me, my partner and their four foot tall plush of me” post!

ft. shidou ryusei, itoshi sae, itoshi rin, isagi yoichi, kaiser michael

shidou ryusei

he walks in mid-sentence like “babe have you seen my –” and pauses. 

the four-foot tall plush version of him is sitting on the couch. it has a full face of glam makeup, glittery eyeshadow, rhinestones, and a pink bow on its head. 

you’re crouched in front of it, lovingly whispering, “you’re such a beautiful princess, look at you… the prettiest shidou there ever was.” 

dead silence. 

suddenly: “YO. IS THAT LIP GLOSS? DID YOU USE THE GOOD ONE?!” 

grabs the plush like he’s found a long-lost sibling. “SHE’S BEAUTIFUL. SHE’S MAJESTIC. SHE COULD KILL A MAN.” 

does a spin with the plush in his arms. dips it like he’s in dancing with the stars. 

“she’s everything i’ve ever wanted to be… and more.” 

later tries to do the same makeup on himself but somehow ends up looking like a possessed drag queen. 

“still hot though, right?” 

you: “you look like you lost a bet.” 

shidou: “hell yeah i did. to the prettiest bitch in this house: me 2.0.” 

itoshi sae

you hear him walking down the hall. you rush to put blush on plush! sae’s cheeks. 

just as you’re brushing it on: “what are you doing?” 

you jump. he’s there. in the doorway. expressionless. 

plush! sae is wearing a flower crown and has lip tint, soft eyeshadow, and perfectly feathered brows. 

“you look beautiful, princess,” you say with a smile, patting its head. 

sae: “that thing is four feet of emotional damage.” 

walks over slowly. crouches. stares the plush down. 

“why does it look better rested than me?” 

you: “because she drinks water and minds her business.” 

sae: “she also has highlighter on her collarbone.” 

you nod solemnly. “she glows from within.” 

he takes a picture of it. you think it’s for memes. 

later find out he made it his lock screen but zoomed in on the flower crown so you wouldn’t know. 

plush mysteriously disappears two days later. you find it in his closet with makeup wiped off and a sticky note taped to its chest: “be normal.”

itoshi rin

rin sees it from across the room and freezes. 

“what the hell is that.” 

“a princess,” you reply, holding the plush’s hand lovingly. 

it’s wearing eyeliner sharper than his cleats, a glossy lip, and a tiara. 

rin: “is that my team jersey cut into a miniskirt...” 

you: “she’s fashionable.” 

rin stands in front of the plush and stares at it like it owes him money. 

“her name is riniella.” 

“kill me.” 

he starts ranting about how it’s weird, unhinged, and possibly illegal, but halfway through he stops mid-sentence: 

“wait… why does her winged liner look better than yours?” 

he smirks at your deadpan face. walks away like he didn’t just gaslight AND instigate a makeup battle. 

you catch him later watching a makeup tutorial on his phone with headphones in. 

plush! rin stays seated on the couch, silently judging both of you. 

isagi yoichi

the second he sees it, he yells. like, anime-character-scream. 

“WAAHHHHHHH WHAT HAPPENED TO ME?!” 

the plush has rosy cheeks, a sparkly lip, and eyeliner with stars at the corners. 

“you’re a princess now, yoichi. embrace your beauty.” 

he clutches his head like he’s having an existential crisis. 

“i look… kind of good. is this how it feels to be… divine?” 

you: “yes, queen.” 

sits next to the plush and whispers, “we’re one now.” 

you try to take a picture of them together but he blocks the camera like, “no paparazzi!” 

gives the plush a little pep talk before every match: “yoichina, this one’s for us.” 

once brought the plush into the bathroom and came out with matching headbands for the both of them. 

“we’re exfoliating today.” 

you: “you’re taking this too far.” 

isagi: “no such thing when you’re royalty.” 

kaiser michael

sees the plush with a flower clip in its hair, rhinestone eyeliner, a pearl choker, and lip gloss so shiny you can see your reflection. 

stunned pause. 

then he smirks. 

“of course i look good. even stuffed me is flawless.” 

leans down and dramatically bows to the plush. “your majesty.” 

then turns to you: “you’re jealous, aren’t you?” 

“jealous of what?” 

“of how good we look. the power is insane.” 

he starts doing photoshoots with the plush. 

“get my good side. now her good side. now both of us doing kissy lips.” 

eventually tries to recreate the look on himself. spends two hours in front of the mirror. 

comes out with glitter in his hair and rhinestones on his cheekbone like he’s going to coachella. 

“if she’s the princess, i’m the entire royal court.” 

you: “you literally put on blush for a plush.” 

kaiser: “yeah, and i served harder than any makeup artist in this country. bow to the king and queen.”

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[ambrozjas]

the gang x reader who loves makeup ꨄ︎

the outsiders x reader (separate)

✧˖*°࿐ notes 🧸ᰔᩚ

guys i swear i’m working on your requests i just wanted to use this as a filler to feed you guys while you wait, but trust me, i’m workin on it 💕 thank you for all the likes and reqs !! love you all xoxo

✧˖*°࿐ warnings ᰔᩚ

some curse words, makeup, reader is compared to “a girl in a magazine” in johnnys part, kissing?? i dunno 😭

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

DARRY’s thumb rubs along your thigh. he lay on his bed while you were sat at the desk besides him. you placed your vanity mirror on the wooden surface and had been working on your makeup for about half an hour.

darry had seen his mother put on makeup whenever she’d go out with his father, so he had a better idea of makeup than someone like steve or two bit. he liked whenever you asked him questions like ‘this or that’.

“which one? peach or mint?” you asked as you held up two lip glosses, the peach gloss in a soft pink tube and the mint in a sage green one.

darry seemed to think for a moment, humming in thought. “th’peach one.” he finally said, nodding his head in the direction of where you were holding the peach tube.

“thanks, dare.” you mumbled, your lips forming an ‘o’ shape, ready for application.

“why do you always put on makeup?” he asks, eyes fixated on you. a satisfying pop of your lips before you look over to him and shrug.

“dunno, makes me feel pretty.”

“you’re always pretty, darlin’.” darry continues, moving his hand from your thigh to your hand, interlocking both your fingers and squeezing.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“how d’ya get that thing so close to your eye?” SODAPOP asks. you’ve been doing your makeup for about ten minutes, soda watching you like a hawk.

“i just raise my eyelid and put the curler to my lashes, piece’a cake.” you shrug, mouth open as you apply some mascara. “really?” he asked, taking a glance at your drawer full of makeup products, an assortment of pretty colored tubes, he would guess were either for your lips or eyes.

“yeah, why? you want some?” you laughed, expecting a ‘no’ in return but got only silence. you looked back at him. soda had just shrugged exaggeratedly.

one thing let to another and you ended up perched on sodapop’s lap, his eyes closed as you decorated his lids with blue eyeshadow.

“soda—! don’t crinkle your eyes!” you exclaimed, your boyfriend simply chuckled and gently grasped your wrist. “‘s not my fault it tickles, babe.”

soda opens his eyes to look at you, pulling your palm to his lips for a soft kiss.

“you know, you just ruined the eyeshadow, right? your eyes are hooded so the shadow will get—“

“shh, i’m tryna be romantic ‘ere.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“oh, PONYBOY!” you squealed, dragging out the ‘y’ in his name and running down the hallway already carrying your makeup bag.

you poke your head in through the doorway to find pony laying on his bed, nose buried in another one of his books. he glanced at you, already suspicious of the fact that the rest of your body isn’t visible.

“huh?” he questioned, his eyes flickering between the words of the book. “you wanna be the best boyfriend ever and do me a favor, pony?” you grinned as you dragged out the syllables in his name.

“what’re you doin’?” he inquired. you started to step slowly into view, your bag held behind your back. “i just need’a see somethin’ real quick.” he sat up a bit as you got closer to him and placed the book on the desk next to his bed, careful to mark the page he was on with a bookmark.

you finally bring your hands around to your front, unveiling the small makeup bag filled to the brim with products.

“oh, no.”

“oh, yes.”

“no! you ain’t touchin’ my face!”

and before he knows it, ponyboy has a face full of makeup on and you’re finishing it off with some sparkly highlighter on his nose.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

you had a date with JOHNNY at the drive-in, planning to see one of elvis’ new movies.

you had done your makeup, using the multitude of products you had in your room, and you looked snatched. your hair was cute, whether greased up or not, it never failed to look effortlessly gorgeous, johnny always thought so.

he was already waiting at the drive-in, accompanied by dallas who unfortunately was “chaperoning” him for the night, probably just trying to keep a lookout for drunk broads.

when you had arrived though, boy, was johnny astonished. his eyes widened at just the sight of you, it was like you were a princess walking up to him in slow motion.

once you had caught up to him and dally, johnny couldn’t help but mutter, “y’look like one of those ladies from the magazines..”, he gawked at just the utter sight of you.

“thank you?” you giggled and gave a quick peck to his lips. “i’ll get us a coke!” you jogged over to the concessions area with a bunched up wad of money in your hand. johnny watched you walk away, mouth still parted a bit in shock.

dallas, being the shithead he is, rudely tapped johnny’s cheek, making him close his mouth. “you’ll catch flies, johnny.” he said, exhaling the smoke from his cigarette.

once you two had actually sat down, dally chatting up some girl a few feet away, johnny turns to you. “s’that a new lipgloss?”

“yeah, you like it?” you asked, blowing him an exaggerated air kiss after.

“tastes sweet.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“c’mon, doll, it’s been like twenty minutes.”

“hold on, DALLY, i have to finish this wing!” you affirmed, your words altered with the way you opened your mouth so your skin would stretch, giving you the perfect opportunity with eyeliner and mascara. one struggle almost everybody goes through, is getting the other eyeliner wing to match the other.

“you’ve been at this for a while, just draw a line ‘n call it a night.” dallas insisted, he didn’t much like waiting, and he never understood why people took so much time just to do their makeup.

“no, you don’t understand. it has to be perfect.” you said, enunciating the ‘p’. you look at dallas in the reflection of the mirror and see him sigh in defeat and hollow his cheeks with another inhale of a cancer stick.

“you better not be smokin’ that thing in here, stinkin’ up my whole room.” you wrinkled your nose, the smell of cigarettes never leaves your room as long as dallas comes over.

“you do it too.”

“i smoke outside, not where it’ll penetrate a whole room full of cute things.” you rebutted.

“whatever you say, doll.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“do i look like a pretty princess?” TWO-BIT asked as you applied blush on his cheeks. you and his kid sister giggled at the sight. two’s eyes covered with all sorts of bright pinks and yellows and blues, colors that his little sister suggested.

“yes keith, you look like a pretty princess.” you said, watching two’s nose scrunch at the brush tickling his cheeks.

“what next?” you asked to his sister, turning to her as she held a finger to her chin in thought. then, it was like a light bulb went off inside her head. she grinned at you, a catlike smile that you returned, one that made two-bit worried about what would come next.

“lipstick.” was all she said, and immediately she handed you a bright red lipstick. you let out a soft laugh as you looked at two-bit’s expression, cocking an eyebrow as usual.

“you ain’t doin’ what i think you’re doin’, right?” he asks, then you wiggle the tube of lipstick at him, getting it closer as he shifts away. he placed his hands up in defense, “baby—! c’mon, you wouldn’t do that to your wonderful lovely boyfriend, would you?”

as he tries to scurry off, you hook your leg around his waist and keep him in place while his little sister laughs hysterically in the background. you grip his cheeks so his lips could purse, giving you the perfect access to apply his lipstick.

he ends up looking like a scrapped lisa frank design and that lipstick ends up in kiss marks littering your face, accompanied by ‘eww’s’ in the back provided by two’s sister.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“shit! it burns!” STEVE yells, his lips a cherry red with irritation.

“why’d you put it on your lips?” you threw your arms up, representing a ‘what the hell?’.

“thought it was your lipstick thingies!”

“why would you put it on your lips in the first place, steve?” you laughed and rushed over to get a paper towel and a few ice cube. “i thought it’d taste good.” he muttered, his lips a comical plump as he glared at the tube, feeling silly how he didn’t read the white letters on it saying ‘duck plump’.

when you came back, you sat down next to steve, gently wiping off the gloss before he snatched the napkin and wiped it off aggressively himself, desperate to get it off.

you both looked at each other before he looked down at the ice cube. “wha’s ‘at supposed to do?” he asked. you stammered, “i don’t know you were in hysterics! ‘pleasee! oh please get it off! it burns—!’” you cut yourself off with a laugh, laying back on the bed.

“yeah, yeah. whatever..” he grumbles, throwing another glare at the lip plumping gloss that lay abandoned on your desk.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ thank you all so much for all the love n requests, i swear i’m writing them just give me some time 🫶

kiss kiss ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

[amourrs]

bachelor!abby who hasn’t stopped thinking about you since your last encounter with her. she’d gone back to the same club she met you at about thirteen times in the first month after meeting you, hoping against hope she’d catch sight of you- but to no avail. eventually she called it a day, assuming that you’d only been in town for the night and she wouldn’t see you again. after all, she’d seen you on a few big billboards and even a couple of video campaigns lately- not that’s she’s keeping track or anything. she definitely hadn’t snapped a picture of your face on a trip to times square and put it into reverse image search to find out your name (that would be sooo creepy, and also stupid when she could’ve just searched “prada spring/summer ‘24 campaign model” instead of spy kidding that shit— something she only realised three days after the fact) and then found your instagram (three million followers, almost twice abby’s) and spent three hours scrolling through all your posts and highlights and scrutinising every detail. did she slip her hands down her pants and start circling her clit over her boxers with a whimper of your name as she looked at one selfie of you in a bikini, glistening and gorgeous? absolutely not! she would never do such a thing… so when she does eventually let it go, she lets it go for good, aside from the occasional horny search of your name on instagram to see you in cabo or bali or marrakesh where she accidentally double taps a photo and has to hastily remove the little red heart to avoid embarrassment (not that you’d see it with that follower count). it’s a random monday when abby steps into yet another exclusive club, alcohol and maybe a little something more coursing through her veins and sees you. at first she has to do a double take. maybe she’s fucking tripping or something, maybe manny’s started giving her laced shit- but no, it really is you, in the flesh and staring back at her. she’s trying to figure out whether she should approach you outright or send you a drink across the bar when you suddenly clear your throat at her from about half an inch away and she jumps. “been enjoying my instagram, pervert?” abby doesn’t know what she was expecting from you, but it wasn’t that. she blushes, cerise to the bone, something she doesn’t find herself doing often. “can you blame me?” she tries to play it off cool, but your laugh indicates it falls flat. “oh, come on, then. bathroom in fifteen, yeah?” the blonde splutters, choking on her own words as you tilt your head to the side, watching her flounder. “uhh, whaddya mean—” the tut that spills from your lips has her flinching. why are you the one with the power? she’s not used to this, and all she knows is that she’s so fucked. she hangs on your every word like an overeager puppy anyway. “bathroom. fifteen minutes,” you repeat, lips curling into a tiny smirk. “maybe this time you’ll get your pants off before you cum.”

[runningupthatvecna]

okay so that recent cast wars interview/press game thingy still has me on the floor (positively) and i wanted to share my personal highlights (in no particular order and because i do enjoy a good chaotic press game, especially from a cast that has been hilariously entertaining so far)

– d'pharao giggling the entire time at every little thing that's being said like he only attended the whole thing to have a laugh

�� "hellraisin" –will poulter (2025)

– michael gandolfini as shrek and joseph's reaction: "that's absolutely horrible"

– "cash wars" –cosmo jarvis already being done with this shit before the introduction

– kit and will being the only two taking the whole thing seriously by actually trying to gain their teams any points

– joseph and charles giggling and acting like 10 year olds in the back of the classroom while cosmo's just sitting there in his little corner looking like an annoyed father having to chaperone his six rowdy children to sunday brunch, not even moving once the entire time and just going "i don't know" and "i don't care" at everything lol he's my new spirit animal

– will being so done with the meme question, "luckily the internet has been cruel to me multiple times"

– "flame face quinn"

– this entire exchange of words and emotions: kit: "there's no way they're gonna get it" joe (to kit and charles, very quietly): "hard-on" michael (off): "panic attack?" kit (to charles and joe): "yeah hard-on" charles: :O kit: "eReCtiOn !!" which isn't even the correct answer to the question being asked charles and d'pharao: hihihi will: "he's great in heartstopper but i don't remember this moment" charles: "cause you never saw it" will: "i've watched it, I'VE WATCHED IT bruv!!!" joe: "what's your favourite fucking episode?" will, in the most british accent of british accents: "I dOnT kNoW tHE ePiSodES !!!!"

– will and d'pharao just cracking up at joe's question of what to all the boys i loved before is

– joseph's drawing of will as a cat lol

– joe: "IN WHOSE POCKET?!" kit: "in which pocket?!" will: "sorry?! puts his hand where?!" d'pharao: *loses it* joe, again: "in whose pocket?" kit: "that's fucking assault" charles: *shoving his hand into d'pharao's pocket* "i'm flirting!" will: *holds his rear side into the camera* "put your hand in my pocket!" kit (while being stuck alongside charles' hand on will's ass): "oh shit, calvin kleins!"

– "cosmo fuckface jarvis" and joseph visibly reveling in cosmo's non-reactions

– kit: "cosmo's his middle name" cosmo: "i don't care" someone let this man leave and go home to his bed lmao

– joseph and kit being total siblings kit: "i actually think i know [eddie munson's band name]" joe: "it's your demographic" charles: *loses it* kit: "??? my fucking demographic what the fuck, what are you talking about!!!!" while everyone joins charles in losing it and joe finding himself to be the most hilarious person to have ever existed which in all honesty– relatable

– kit, after charles did his gollum and stitch impression: "the veins in your neck!" joe: "it's called COMMITMENT, KIT" sassy bitch

– everyone losing their shit at "tom fuckface hardy" while joseph thinks about starting a career in comedy so hard he has to get out of his chair and resemble a tomato

– "i can tell you someone who isn't" *raises hand* –will poulter, not cast in avengers doomsday (2026)

– kit: "is it the death of the fuckface unicorn?" joe, lecturing his younger brother: "you can't use fuckface like, ALL the time" also joe, two minutes later: *starts playing with kit's ear, causing kit to wriggle out of his chair and tell him off* someone come and pick the children up from buzzfeed daycare please

– "we get wot, we get three seconds they get ONE YEAR?!" –joseph quinn (2025)

– #justiceforwarlock

– this entire group of grown men starting to act incredibly unhinged the second they are in each others presence lol

[charliemwrites]

Part 5 (it’s getting out of control) of Charmed Slasher Simon.

Part 4 is here. (Master list coming soon)

(Slight warning for a coworker being a bit of a pushy creep but Simon handles it)

“Riiiiileyyyy.”

Ah, that’s your naughty voice. It means he’s going to want to do awful, terrible things to you out of pure endearment for your cheek.

He turns, arches an eyebrow as you nearly skip up to him. Your hair is shorter.

“New haircut?” he asks as if his fingers aren’t twitching to bury in it and pull your head back.

“Yup! Thought about dyeing it orange, but decided it would clash with my flat.”

He snorts, gives in to the urge to curl a strand around his finger, watches it bounce back into place. You don’t seem to mind, sticking your cute little tongue out at him. (If you’re not careful, he’s going to put you on your knees and have you wrap it around his cock right there.)

“Sensible choice,” he replies, “yellow is more your color.”

You giggle, aren’t bothered by his flat, almost inflectionless tone. “You think?”

“Highlighter yellow. Or maybe banana.”

“Hey, I like bananas!”

He smirks. “Oh yeah? Big ones?”

You shove at him, face going hot. He doesn’t move an inch, not that you were trying hard. Touchy little thing. You remind him of those little birds that flutter around lions, picking and pecking right under their noses, amusing themselves with death.

“Don’t be icky, Riley.”

“Icky.”

“Gross nasty.”

“We’re name calling now?”

“It’s not name calling if it’s true.”

He clicks his tongue, ushers you into the building.

“There a reason for the new hair?” he asks, eyeing it. It’s pretty, don’t get him wrong. But he didn’t know you were getting your hair cut today.

“Fancy office party tonight,” you sigh, rolling your eyes. “My stylist just managed to get me in, but now I’ve gotta rush to get ready.”

“Now who said you could go out?”

“What are you gonna do, stop me?” you laugh, clearly thinking he’s teasing. He’s not. If you looked at his face, you’d know it. But you’re busy fussing with your keys, trying to unlock your door.

“I might.”

“Oh, you stop,” you huff, shaking your head. “It’s not even movie night!”

He’s been coming over once a week to watch a movie and drink with you. One of you picks the movie, the other picks the takeaway. He always chooses a horror movie, likes how your eyes water when you get truly scared. You refuse to watch slashers (haven’t told ‘Riley’ why) but you’ll indulge paranormal ones.

It’s not movie night - those are on Saturdays. This is Friday.

“What if I just kidnap you?” he asks. “Keep you in all weekend?”

You hum as if in thought, glancing at him over your shoulder. “Could I go back to work on Monday?”

“Have to see how I’m feeling on Sunday.”

You giggle. “A tempting offer, but you’ll have to settle for kidnapping me just for Saturday.”

“I don’t think you understand how kidnapping works.”

“I’d be a terrible hostage,” you say. He arches an eyebrow, inviting you to continue. “I have to pee when I’m nervous, I’d be talking their ear off - and! I cry like, so much.”

Oh he knows. He thinks of tears running down your pretty face when he cums.

“Some kidnappers like the crying. Theyre sadists.”

You scrunch your face. “But it’s like… gross crying. Total mess. And I make dying seal noises.”

No, you don’t, not in his experience with you at least. But he’s not going to explain that to you.

“Didn’t you have something to get ready for?” he asks because he’s violently wrestling the urge to make good on his threat.

“Fuck!” You glance at your watch, brows scrunching. “If I’m late, I’m blaming you, Riley Simmons.”

“Oh no.”

You stick your tongue out at him one last time and disappear behind your door.

—

He hears you come back at 11:30, has been waiting up. Pauses when he hears two sets of footsteps, a man’s voice talking to you. A wave of bloodlust nearly drowns his better sense.

You brought someone home from a work event? Did you lie to him and go on a date?

“Well, thanks for walking me to my door, Brandon.”

“Was happy to. Don’t want anyone snatching you up off the street now, do we?” An annoying laugh. Yours sounding a little flat and strained joining him.

“Oh, hey, mind if I come in?” Brandon asks. So casually, as if the yes is expected.

Simon’s hands ball into tight fists.

“Ah, it’s pretty late…”

“Well, that’s what Saturday is for, right?”

Oh. That little roach. Simon’s going to hang him by his own guts.

“I have plans tomorrow, actually.”

Good girl.

“That’s alright,” Brandon persists. “Just one drink. Least you can do since I went out of my way, right?”

“I mean, you didn’t have to, I would have been fine.”

There’s some genuine annoyance in your voice this time. Simon’s proud.

“Nah, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you go home after having drinks?” Brandon chuckles.

“I didn’t have that many - and anyway I’m here now, so…”

“And so am I. At least a little something for my troubles?”

And Simon hears just the slightest, faintest ruffle of clothes.

That’s enough.

Simon yanks his door open and steps out. You’re nearly pancaked to your own door, head snapping to him with relief.

“Riley!”

Brandon takes a step back, expression stormy. Simon almost laughs. Little prick is barely taller than you, has done hard work maybe twice in his life. His hands look softer than yours. And he’s wearing a sweater vest.

“Did we wake you up?” you ask.

Simon saunters down the hall towards you. The closer he gets, the more nervous Brandon gets. But you seem to relax a bit more with each step, even shift towards him.

Very good girl.

“Was already up.” He doesn’t look away from Brandon, radiating menace.

You hum in understanding - know Simon keeps late hours. Brandon clears his still-intact throat and you jolt a bit, expression wilting.

“Oh, um. Riley this is my coworker. Brandon, this is Riley, my neighbor.”

“How do you do?” Brandon replies stiffly.

Simon’s not playing along.

“You try to push her again, someone will be pushing you in a wheelchair the rest of your life. Understand?”

Brandon sputters while your eyes go adorably wide, expression caught between horror and gratitude. Like you don’t know if you should be condoning his threats.

“I beg your pardon?!”

“Not yet, but you will if I see you here again, yeah?”

Brandon’s face drains of blood. You press your lips together.

“Now get the fuck out. I’ve got her from here.”

Brandon, worm that he is, scurries away with a hasty “see you Monday”. You don’t reply, too busy blinking up at Simon with parted lips.

He chucks you gently under the chin, eyes narrowing in amusement.

“Off to bed. I’m kidnapping you tomorrow.”

You audibly swallow, then nod.

“Thank you.”

“Good manners.”

First | Previous | Next

Masterlist

[ashen-char]

the altar is her hips 🔞

my masterlist, to check out my other works, is here

ship: anora mikheeva (anora) x fem reader

summary: it's finals week but ani convinces you into taking a sexy break with her.

word count: 2700+

notes: i had a strong urge to name this one "this is me swallowing (my pride)" but false god fit better than back to december lmfaooo. student fem reader suggested here, service top reader and ani loving to tell her what to do suggested here <3 thank youuu

You barely register the sound of heels on the linoleum, steadily clicking their way towards you. The library is packed, after all. With exam week coming up, there's more people here than there have been all semester. Everyone who had been pushing back their coursework is now suddenly cramming it in. You hate studying when it's too quiet anyways, you can't focus that way. Your eyes are glued to the textbook in front of you, words blurring together as you try to make sense of the impossibly dense material. The only thing keeping you going is the half-empty energy drink beside you, the chocolates you had instead of a proper dinner, and the distant promise of sleep - whenever that might happen.

Then, a familiar presence slides into the chair next to you. She must have come to visit straight from work, because it's damn near 5am. Ani's chewing some gum, snapping it between her teeth.

"Wow," Anora drawls, propping her chin on one hand as she surveys the mess of notes, highlighters, and sheer academic despair spread out across the table. "This is tragic. When's the last time you slept, baby?"

"Fuck. I don't know. I don't even think I got proper rest yesterday," you admit. You were tossing and turning all night, the only sleep you got being fitful at best. "I was reciting case study names in my head so I don't forget any. With AI bullshit, the uni's cracked down on making all exams closed-book."

"I can tell. Even your eyebags have eyebags." Ani, amused by her own joke, blows a bubble and it snaps. You roll your eyes, but that makes her smile, reaching over and running her thumb across your cheek. "Don't worry, they're designer. My baby's got Prada eyebags, for damn sure."

You hum in acknowledgement. "Yeah, thanks." Barely listening, unfortunately, even though you want to give your girlfriend all your attention. It's for both of you. All your efforts, your good grades, will culminate in a better life for the both of you. That's what you tell yourself when you have to blow off date night for a deadline anyhow.

Ani shifts closer, pulling out her bag. "I could put some BB cream on you at least," she offers.

You turn a page. The paragraphs are blurring together and while you swear you've read this before, it also looks brand new at the same time. You sigh, rubbing your temples, willing the information to stick. When you reach something you didn't remember from your lectures, you jot it down on your lined paper, highlighting the key words. "It’s exam week. I don’t have time to be cute."

"Good thing I’m cute enough for both of us, then." She grins, stretching her legs out so her foot nudges yours under the table. She’s wearing ripped jeans and a cropped hoodie that definitely isn’t hers - it’s probably yours, stolen at some point and now claimed as her own.

"Whisper at least, babe. If you're insistent on talking in the library." You gesture to all the other stressed-out students, your peers in suffering. While various courses have their exams spread out so there are no clashes, the energy of finals is potent in the air.

"Boring." You glance at her, but she’s already plucking one of your highlighters off the table, twirling it between her fingers like she’s contemplating doing something devious with it.

"How long have you been at this?" Anora asks. She picks up the stack of papers from your other classes, flipping absently through your notes and you watch in case she highlights something. "Because I’m gonna guess… too long."

"Since this morning. And all day yesterday."

Anora whistles. "You know, there are laws against self-torture."

You huff a tired laugh. "Not in Professor Raye's class."

She leans back in her chair, crossing her arms. "OK, here’s the deal. You take a break. Like, a real fuckin' break. No ‘just one more chapter.’ No ‘let me just finish this section.’ You step away from this table, right now, and I will personally reward you with something better than whatever caffeine-fueled nightmare you’re living," Anora says, poking your metal tumblr that was once filled with iced coffee - probably melted and watered down now.

You narrow your eyes at her. "And what exactly is this reward?"

She smirks, tapping a manicured finger against the table. "Guess you’ll have to find out."

You exhale slowly, staring down at your textbook like it might physically pull you back in if you look too long. But then Anora nudges your chair with her foot again, insistent, and there’s something warm in the way she’s watching you - amused, fond of you, but also knowing. Like she’s seen a hundred people burn themselves out and decided you won’t be one of them.

You sigh, shutting the book. "Fine. Five minutes. But then I'm continuing this in my dorm. And I have to check this book out."

"Ten minutes."

"Seven."

"Nine."

"Eight and a half."

"Deal."

She grins like she’s just won something. It reminds you of the time Anora took you to Coney Island because you said you'd never been. That night was magical, and you two had so much fun taking turns winning each other prizes. That proud-of-herself gleam in her eyes as she presented you with a stuffed tiger. Anora stands and holds out her hand to you, the butterfly charms glued onto her pretty nails seeming to glitter under the cold library lights.

Snapping your textbook shut, you take Ani's hand when she holds hers out for you, with her standing up in a shot and grabbing her purse. "That's my girl," she purrs. "Grab your jacket, sugar. We're going somewhere that'll make you forget all about... whatever boring ass shit you were studying."

When she pulls you up, she doesn’t let go. She leads you out of the quiet, fluorescent-lit library and into the bustling campus streets. The cold air is sharp, but Ani seems unperturbed, skipping slightly as she walks. Her heels click against the pavement, drawing the occasional glance from passing strangers.

"You really think you can make me relax in eight minutes?" you ask, curious about her plan. You'll give her the benefit of not taking travel time into your little deal though.

"Oh, you'll love it. Promise, babe."

xx

Luckily, the location she had in mind was apparently your dorm room. Ani lies back on your bed with its cheap sheets, her long dark hair splayed out around her. The tinsel in it really makes her shine, if the body glitter isn't enough. When she's unbuttoning her jeans, you tease her, "if making me fuck you was the break you had in mind, remember you've still only got eight minutes."

"Eight and a half," she reminds. "Don't rush this. And get your shirt off."

She's wearing a lacy black bra and a matching thong that leaves little to the imagination, her pale skin glowing in the dim light of your room. She looks up at you with hooded brown eyes, biting her plump lower lip as she beckons you closer.

"Get that pretty face between my legs," Ani orders, her breath hitching with anticipation. "And don't you dare stop until I tell you to. Think of it like studying for that exam - except instead of boring old notes, you've got a girl in your bed. Lucky you."

You like when she tells you what to do. How to kiss her, fuck her, lick her. It's a dizzying push-pull of control, where you're the one bringing her to ecstasy but she's the one commanding you to get her there.

"C'mere, baby," she purrs, voice dripping with desperate desire. Her accent slips out when she's not thinking about it, too focused on getting you where she wants you. "I want your mouth on me. Now."

"Yes, ma'am."

Anora spreads her legs, revealing the damp spot clear on her panties. The sight makes your mouth go dry, your heart pounding in your chest. You've seen Ani dance, have felt her body pressed against yours, but this is different. This feels more intimate, more vulnerable. The time limit you've set on this also adds to the thrill.

"Start by kissing up my thighs," Ani instructs, her voice breathy. "Nice and slow. I want to feel those lips of yours."

You obediently lower your head, pressing soft kisses along the inside of her thigh. You can smell her arousal, musky and intoxicating, as you work your way up. Ani shivers beneath your touch, her fingers tangling in your messy hair.

"I like when you tease me, baby."

"Mmm," you hum against her skin. "I know."

"Fuck, just like that," she gasps, guiding you higher with her hands. "Don't stop, baby. Keep going until you reach-" A little gasp when your tongue flits out for just a moment. Tasting the sweat on her skin from hours under HQ's bright lights, from working hard.

You continue your ascent, kissing and licking every inch of her soft, creamy skin. When you reach the apex of her thighs, you hook your fingers into the waistband of her panties and tug them down slowly, revealing her glistening folds. Ani lifts her hips to help you remove them completely, leaving her bare before you.

"Look at me," she commands, tilting your chin up with her fingers. "I want to see your face when you taste me for the first time. I want to watch you lose yourself in my pussy."

"Position me then." You'll lose yourself in between her thighs over and over if it means Ani's directing you. "You guide where I go."

Her eyes darken. You know she loves the control, it's what she appreciates about dancing at the club and getting suckers falling for her movements. Her grip tightens on your hair, guiding you downwards until your face is mere inches from her glistening folds. The scent of her arousal fills your nostrils, sweet and musky. It's almost overwhelming, in the best way possible.

"Start by kissing up and down the lips," Ani instructs, voice breathless. "Get them nice and wet with your mouth first. Show me how much you worship this cunt."

You lock eyes with her, your breath catching in your throat as you lean in close. Your first lick is tentative, a soft swipe along her slit to test her flavor. Ani tastes sweet and tangy, her arousal coating your tongue. It's intoxicating, and you find yourself wanting more.

Trailing open-mouthed kisses along her lower lips, you relish the silky smooth skin and the taste of her excitement. Knowing that it's all yours. You made her like this. You can feel Ani squirming beneath you, her grip on your hair tightening.

"That's it, baby. Just like that," she encourages, her hips rocking subtly against your face. "Now, focus on the clit. Suck on it, flick it with your tongue. 'til you feel it throb."

You do as you're told, capturing her clit between your lips and suckling gently. You flick the sensitive bud with the tip of your tongue, feeling it swell and stiffen from the stimulation.

"Ah fuck!" Ani gasps, her head falling back against your pillows. "Don't stop, nngh - just like that. Your tongue feels so fucking good." She's almost ranting mindlessly now, sounding so out of it as you keep going.

You can feel her growing more and more aroused by the second, her juices coating your chin and dripping onto the bedsheets below. You don't mind though. You'll buy a spare set some other time, after exam week has come and gone. The taste of her is intoxicating, and you know you could spend hours worshipping her like this.

"Mmm, you're a natural at eating pussy, ain't ya?" Ani giggles as her thighs clench around your head, trying to sit up to look at you know. "I knew you were hiding some skills under that nerdy exterior."

"My favourite meal."

"Oh fuck," Ani whimpers, her head falling back against the pillow as you start to eat her out in earnest. "Don't you dare fucking stop, babygirl. Put that tongue to work, baby. Bury it in my cunt. Show me how badly you want to please me."

You feel a rush of pride at her words, determined to impress her even more. You drag your tongue back down to her entrance, pushing past the lips to thrust your tongue inside, fucking her with the slick muscle.

Everything starts to become a blur. It could have taken hours, maybe minutes. You delve in deeper, your tongue plunging into her hot, tight center. Ani's walls clench around you, like her cunt is trying to pull you in even further, eager for more. Desperate. Aching. You lap at her greedily, savouring her taste and scent, relishing in the way she writhes beneath your touch. You squeeze your own thighs together, your own center throbbing in response.

You relentlessly thrust your tongue in and out, curling it to hit that spongy spot you know drives her wild. Ani is writhing underneath you, fisting the sheets and writhing against your probing, relentless tongue.

"I can't believe how good you're making me feel," Ani confesses, "No one's ever worshipped my pussy like this before. Like they actually gave a fuck about making me, oh God, making me cum."

You glance up at her, seeing tears glistening in her brown eyes. You slow down your movements, gentling your licks as you take in her expression. "Hey, hey... don't cry," you murmur, pressing a tender kiss to her clit. Slowing it down. Letting her acclimate to it all. "I'm here. I'm right here. And I'm not going anywhere."

"You really mean that?" Ani asks, her voice choked with emotion. "Because, fuck, I mean... no one's ever said they loved me like this before. Like I'm a real person, not just-not just a warm hole to fuck or something."

You feel a lump form in your throat and you blink back your own tears. "I mean it," you promise her fervently. "I love you, Ani. I love every fucking part of you, from your fierce spirit to your broken places to this perfect, greedy little cunt."

Their words seem to be what Ani needs to hear to reach that delicious, mind-ruining peak. She comes undone with a sharp cry, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave. Her pussy spasms and clenches around your tongue, gushing her release into your eager mouth. She tastes hot and wet, a little sweetness to it. You lap it up greedily, humming in satisfaction as you work her through her high.

As her tremors subside, Ani goes limp on the bed, her chest heaving with exertion. "Holy shit," she whispers, a dazed look on her face. "That was-I can't even..."

You crawl up her body and gather her into your arms, holding her close. Ani buries her face in the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent of your skin. You stroke her hair soothingly, letting her come down from her intense orgasm.

"Thank you," Ani murmurs, pressing a kiss to your jaw. "Thank you for seeing me. For not just wanting to fuck me and then throw me away. I'm not used to feeling so - I dunno, shit - appreciated? Worth something?"

You tilt her chin up and press your lips to hers in a deep, tender kiss. 

"You're worth everything," you tell her. You'll tell her over and over again until she believes it.

Ani kisses you back just as passionately, her tongue sliding against yours. Tasting her own cum in your mouth and all over your face. It's filthy and yet still so romantic. When you finally break apart, you see her cheeks are streaked with tears.

"I love you too, you know," Ani declares, a fierce look in her eyes. "You're stuck with me now. Hope you know that."

And it's true for your sex, but especially true as you build your lives together. So you repeat, "you guide where I go."

Anora shoves your shoulder for that, but you can tell she loves it. Eventually, she goes limp against the sheets, panting and flushed. She looks down at you with glazed eyes and a lazy grin. "Not bad for a study break, huh?" she giggles breathlessly. "We make a good fuckin' team."

Looking at the clock, you're not surprised to see you've gone madly overtime. Her pussy just does that to you. Burrowing in Anora's sweat-slicked chest, you groan. You're too exhausted to study now. "I'm gonna fucking fail this exam."

[red5tars]

been cooking some pricegaz x reader concepts (and one primarily pricegaz) bcs of @/fulltacs

cw; pregnancy, oral mention (m receiving), hannigram mention, denial of homo-erotic relations, mentions of kidnapping and semi-dark themes.

1) price who is about to retire confessing to gaz he’s always seen him like a son. he also confesses that he wished he had grandkids, his (few) memories with his gran the only highlight from his childhood.

“little tyke runnin’ around, spoiling them to their hearts content, doesn’t that sound nice?”

and gaz, being the good man son he is decides to see his wish through. two months later, he shows up to price’s door with you on his arm. he never knew gaz had a partner (he doesn’t), but price could care less when gaz tells him he’s gonna be a ‘pop pop’

2) established pricegaz but it’s a secret considering it’s against the rules and also the (smallest) power imbalance. newly sergeant-ed you ends up catching them in the act. despite the wrongness of it all, you promise not to tell. it’s their business! and it isn’t hurting anyone! still, your words are not enough so why don’t you put that pretty mouth of yours on your captain’s rim while gaz works on his balls. show them that they can really trust you.

3) established pricegaz BUT price is not out to his friends or family which is fine because they don’t even visit his side that much. until they visit him. price would be your dad’s best friend in this scenario, opting to stay with him while you explore london. and though he knows how accepting you are, he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t let gaz say anything.

cut to gaz viciously flirting with you right in front of price bcs his partner refuses to tell reader in fear of embracing an essential aspect of his life.

4) bratrecruit!reader my beloved. idc if i talked about it before i’m going to talk about it again. i want to clean up that post but yeah just thinking you’re better than them and that you’re protected by your name. this is loosely based off of what @/yeyinde had to say about price’s background (ty lev <3) with him also being a nepo baby. having a nepo off. only thing is he has gaz and you don’t.

5) reader who divorced price and wants nothing to do with him only to be with his left hand man, gaz. don’t even know the two know each other but gaz knows everything about you. besides, price just told kyle what he wants for christmas, and you happen to be on the list.

6) reader who was constantly picked on by kyle when they were cadets, forced to discharge because it always went way over line but their co’s just called them ‘too weak’. fast forward years later when the two cross paths and reader is honestly worse for wear but gaz seems better (he isn’t). reader is on the verge of homelessness so when gaz asks if they’re okay they just.. break down. ends up with kyle allowing them to stay at his and price’s place, saying they have a guest bedroom.

(gaz who has always been way too obsessed with reader but his attempts at isolating them for himself pushed them metaphorically and physically away. however, he is presented with another go at this. price’ll understand, he knows how much kyle needs his toy)

7) hannigram au pricegaz but gaz is hannibal and price is will graham. idk i feel like price would be more likely to witness the horrors of his own mind while gaz just sits in the back sipping on his wine and chewing an arm.

[moonlitdesertdreams]

Shake the Frost

A/N: I have no comment other than thank you to the Thunderbolts trailer for putting me back into a Bucky Barnes phase.

Relationship: Bucky Barnes | Winter Soldier x Reader

Tags: bucky barnes x reader, bucky barnes x y/n, The Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes, James Buchanan Barnes, Winter Soldier!Bucky, hurt/comfort, fluff

WARNINGS: mentions of flashbacks, PTSD, brainwashing

Summary: Inspired by the song 'Shake the Frost' by Tyler Childers. After a year on the run with Bucky, you think he might finally be opening up to you. All it took was a little honesty. And a healthy dose of yelling.

Word Count: 1.5k+

You’d spent an entire year on the lam, hiding a brainwashed assassin who could barely remember his name. 

And after a year, the Winter Soldier- Bucky- still turned a cold shoulder to you when the memories became too much to bear. One minute he would sit with you on the couch in your little cabin to watch a movie, and the next he’d be trudging through the Montana snowfall, wandering the remote mountain ridge in an apathetic search for clarity. 

It had been the tune of your relationship since the beginning, though the past couple of months had seen some improvement. Bucky was more human, seeking you out for comfort after nightmares and flashbacks or even requesting different food items when you deemed it necessary to run into town for groceries. You weren't sure if it was him actively looking for help or just trying to tamp down on the mounting frustration caused by his constant cold-shoulder. 

Tonight, he had surprised you by grabbing the TV remote while you flipped aimlessly through a limited supply of channels. The cabin, tucked deep into the Montana Rockies, belonged to your maternal grandparents and had the barest of cable packages.

“Wait, wait.” His sudden movement had scared you half to death, metal fingers gently encircling yours on the remote. “Can you go back?”

You balanced a half-eaten plate of rehydrated mashed potatoes on your knee and nodded. “Uh, yeah. Can I have my hand back?”

Your comfort level with him had been fairly steady, as you weren’t in fear of him killing you in your sleep anymore. With that said, any sudden contact still made you wary. You knew what he was capable of when provoked, and didn’t wish to bring it on yourself, even if it was an accident 

“Sorry.” He released you at once, the prosthetic whirring as your wrist was freed. 

Bucky’s keen gaze turned back to the old TV as you clicked back a couple of channels, stopping on an old rerun of M*A*S*H. His head tilted at the uniforms, eyes hardening as he discerned the setting. You swallowed a forkful of potatoes, not sure if this was the best thing for a recovering super-soldier assassin prone to PTSD to be watching. The rest of the food was nudged around your plate nervously before you pressed the button to go to the next channel, twangy country music flooding the room instead.

“Bucky, I don’t know if M*A*S*H is the best-”

He stood abruptly from the couch, walking towards the front door. Nothing of note had happened before you switched the show off, but this was how he worked. Some unknown, unseen trigger would send him spiraling into silence, and you’d be left with no explanation. A year had little effect on his habits.

This time, you weren’t having it. “Hey!”

Ditching your plate on the couch, you chased him to the entryway where his boots were already on. Bucky wouldn’t meet your eyes, focused solely on getting out the door. You grabbed his hand just as he had minutes ago, soft flesh meeting titanium on the doorknob. He shook you off and pulled the door open, tossing a Russian command over his shoulder in your direction. 

“Bucky, wait!” You jammed your feet into the closest shoes and grabbed your coat, hustling out into the blizzard without a thought. 

Soft light emanated from a lantern on the porch, highlighting the figure standing only a couple feet from the bottom step. Powdery snow climbed halfway up his shins, evidently acting as a barrier between him and his usual route. You walked up behind him slowly, stopping on the last stair.

You were normally patient with his traumatic past and memory issues, but it was mounting into frustration as time passed by. “Bucky.”

He didn’t answer. 

“Bucky, what’s wrong?”

The Winter Soldier remained motionless. You grit your teeth, anger rising. 

“Soldat.” You intoned in the same manner you’d heard his handlers speak. “Otvechat [Answer].”

Painfully slow, he turned back towards you. You gulped, steeling yourself for a blow or outburst of anger. Instead, his face was blank. Blue eyes bore into nothing, haunted and cold. You ducked your head to meet his vacant stare, hoping the commands hadn’t forced him into some sort of fugue state. 

“Talk to me.” You said, almost pleading. “For once, tell me what’s going on.” 

A stream of Russian followed, growing more desperate the longer he talked. The extent of your Russian was the few simple commands barked out by HYDRA guards and nothing more, and you were lost after the first two words. His switch between languages wasn’t uncommon, but came frequently with stress.

 You held up your hands, shushing him. Bit back your frustration in order to get an answer. “Bucky, I don’t speak- I need English, please.”

He stopped, chest rising and falling erratically. Blue eyes focused on your face, cheeks already tinged red from the cold. 

 “The p-program made me remember something, but I don’t know what it was. It was there and then it was gone.” Another hitched breath interrupted his words. “It was gone so fast. Like a dream.”

Dreams had been a constant for him, to the point you’d went out of your way to buy him a journal and pen to write them down as soon as he woke up. 

“Well, maybe you’ll have to keep your journal-” 

“I don’t want to rely on a book!” He cried out, “You tell me to write down dreams, but how am I supposed to remember things that happen so fast? I can’t pull out a journal and write it down!”

Though it was angry and loud, you stood your ground. Any sort of real emotion was preferable to the stoic Winter Soldier who’d shown up beaten and bruised in your hotel room so long ago.

“Maybe I’d have an answer if you ever talked to me! These things happen and you always disappear!” You steadied your voice, trying not to fly completely off the handle. “I don’t know how you’re supposed to pin down a memory if you’re too busy trying to run away everytime it comes up. I want to help you, Bucky.”

“I just…” A shiver wracked his body. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Frustration fizzled away into sympathy. “You’ve never…”

“And I would never know until it’s too late.” He growled, sounding more like the Soldier than Bucky. “They controlled me with words. What if I remember them too clearly and I hurt you? You’re the only person who’s ever helped me.”

“You won’t.” You reached out with a tentative hand, setting it on his right shoulder. “You’re in control. You can keep working on your memories, but you can’t do it alone. So let me help you. Please.”

Face angled towards the ground, he nodded. “I’m sorry for taking off again.”

You shook your head. “Don’t be sorry. Just come inside, where it’s warm. We can talk there.”

Once inside, you fought to shuck off your boots, one lace knotted in a manner that prevented escape. You bent down to fix it, cussing until the damn thing came loose. Upon standing, you came face-to-chest with a nervous-looking Bucky. Mellow guitar notes floated to your ears from the abandoned television.

“Oh. Hi.” You said awkwardly, craning your neck to make eye contact. “Everything okay?”

Bright blue eyes, full of pent-up emotion, shined with what you thought might be tears. He chewed on his lip, a nervous tick you had spotted only when he thought you weren’t looking. It was a vulnerability that the Winter Soldier half of him couldn’t allow. 

“Yeah. Thank you.” His mouth opened and closed a few times. “I think… I think I’d like to talk more. If you’ll listen. I don’t want to hide things from you.”

The admission was frank, full of honesty. It was the sort of thing you’d been expecting when he’d woke you up in the middle of the night, only to be met with silence and the unspoken request for company.

“We can talk, Bucky, whenever you want.” You grabbed his flesh hand, squeezing calloused fingers. “I’ll always listen.”

There was a beat of stillness before you were yanked forward into his chest by the same hand. It took a minute to process the movement, but your arms encircled his torso. Warm air rushed past your ear, his exhale heavy on your scalp. It was the most physical he’d ever been, outside of the random protective stances he’d taken in situations perceived as dangerous. Your own body melted into the embrace, unable to resist the primal desire for touch and closeness that it had lacked for months. Even pinned against him by a metal arm, the embrace was comforting. You ran your nails up and down the length of his spine, trying to stave off the tremors that plagued him. Wintertime did Bucky no favors, especially with a cybernetic appendage that conducted the cold straight into his bones.

Eventually, you felt his mouth move against your hair. He spoke so low it could barely be called a whisper.

“Thank you.”

From the living room, music continued softly.

-

‘So if it'd make you stay-

I wouldn't act so angry all the time-

I wouldn't keep it all inside-

And I'd let you know how much I loved you every day-

So darlin' will you stay right here and shake this frost off of my bones?’

-

Thank you for reading, much love ❤

Masterlist

[controld3vil]

chaotic duo

pairing(s): dune cast x actor!reader (platonic), oscar isaac x actor!reader

synopsis: requested by this ask!

⤷ alt: even your on-screen son can't deny how delightful his on-screen parents were.

notes: absolutely no shade to rebecca ferguson i adore her too much. reader is considered to have fem pronouns. ALSO ive been feeling iffy about trying to write for dune characters?? personally, although i love writing these actor!reader stories, writing for the actual characters i feel would be more challenging. dune's still pretty new to me but i kinda wanna give it a shot if i can make a good storyline T-T

It all started with the Dune Cast Q&A brought together by Nerdist. Timothee Chalamet and Denis Villeneuve had just finished chatting with the host, Stephen Colbert about their perspectives on Paul's character. Much emphasis had gone on the young actor's performance. And Denis's decision to cast such a well-experienced one.

After finishing up their last question together, Stephen decides to introduce two additional members. "Timothee let's bring out the man and the woman who play your parents, Duke Leto Atreides and Lady Jessica." A transition between screens to display your camera view and Oscar's. He introduces both your names.

"Hi!" You grin at the camera, comfortably leaning against one of the arms of your chair. Similar to everyone else's backdrop, yours was pitch gray, covering all but your silhouette and chair.

"Hey Stephen," Oscar greets at ease, as you proceed to wave to each of the people seen onscreen.

It cuts immediately to the host gesturing in continuation for a question. "Tell me and the audience about Duke Leto Atreides. What do we need to know?"

"He's the father and human. I think that's the biggest thing and uh under incredible pressure to save his family. Save his house but to adapt to this new existential threat situation which is moving to this strange planet," Your fellow costar puts into short. Short and concise was what was expected.

Content with his answer, Stephen moves the attention to you. He calls out your name, eagerly. "Rereading the books uh- right now, I am struck by how much of the story- uh the backstory and the action story is driven by the decisions Lady Jessica makes." A smile grows on your face, knowing how much fun was a character to play for you.

Along his last few words, you find yourself nodding in agreement. "I'm impressed with that you, Stephen actually read the books again!" An instant grin comes from the said man. "But it's all applause to Denny- he highlighted this from the book. In the film, her decisions basically create, fractures and disrupts everything."

"Best parents ever," In a low whisper, Timothee murmurs and the five of you burst into short chuckles and snickers.

"The best you could ever have!" You clapped your hands together, shaking them above your head in victory. And when the screen expands to show everyone's reactions, the audience can noticeably pinpoint Oscar's playful eye-rolling.

Another fun interview you had the pleasure of sharing was with Grazia UK. It was in a more comfortable setting. With you and Oscar in a lounge room, with the Zoom camera on. While the female interviewer complimenting a kind smile.

"Can I ask you something," Not within a second of the conversation, you rose up with a peculiar question. "Do you remember his beard?" Your costar beside you, looks away in disappointment. Even raising his hand to emphasize his discouraged state.

"A bit yes..."

"Yeah,"

"Yes!"

"Why? It was an impressive beard," Sort of clueless really, the interviewer says, of why you wanted to the topic up.

"Yeah, it was impressive!" Oscar looks back and forth between you and the camera, directing towards the woman on the other side. While you shriveled in embarrassment, leaning your head behind his shoulder, with a few snorts of laughter. "She doesn't even remember if I had a beard or not in the movie! She just saw it."

"Quite a prominent beard!"

"Yes yes, well I can remember so much," You chaste, leaning closer, locking eyes with your costar. Threatening really in a playful way.

"We shot together for a few months! How could you not remember?!" He exclaims, raising both his hands in the air in exasperation. You puff, adorning a pouty-like look.

"I work with what's in front of me," you turn to address the interviewer, pointing at Oscar accusingly. Because much contrast to what he looked months ago, he no longer had that impressive beard. He was clean-shaven, much to your display.

Next to you, Oscar scoffs. "Apparently not!" Bumping shoulders with you as you fought back, poking him many times obnoxiously.

You both later discussed a provoking quote referenced multiple times from Dune posters. Fear is the mind killer. Truly a simple yet intriguing phrase that fitted well with the film. And in generally, you and Oscar compared each others quotes from personal experience.

"I guess you could combine them together," Taking a sip out of your glass, you eyed at Oscar. He hums back and smooths his hands comfortably down his hips.

"It will pass and love prevails!" He cheerfully expresses. Even from afar, the interviewer can notice how much fun you two were having with the question.

"Right and, it plays perfectly with the film," You add onto your little spiel, nodding as you go, "Besides the fact that- you know, fear is the mind killer."

The male actor lets out a long sigh. "Makes you forget how violent the movie is."

On the other side of the screen, the blonde interviewer shrugs her shoulders. "Well- it's only included in small parts in the movie."

It was your turn to hum, dragging out the M sound. "I think maybe the film focusses too much on romance."

A caught off cough comes from Oscar as he tries to his best to dismiss his your sarcastic comment. "I feel like there should've been more of it."

"Really?!" The shot pans to your exaggerated shocked gaze. You then turn to look at the interviewer. "He has no idea how to write a movie." Instantaneously the male actor bursts out laughing, shaking his head back and forth in little denial. Even you couldn't hold it together and giggled a little.

"You play Timothee's parents so spent a lot of time with him. What is the most interesting thing we do not about Timothee Chalamet?" The interviewer prompts, having their arms supported on top the their desk with pure keenness.

Pursing your lips together in concentration, your attention turns towards your partner. "Well coming from me- I mean I don't know if people know this about him or not- but he's very open hearted." Oscar continues, "And me, having to play his father- hence the beard!"

"Ah!" Giving more emphasis, you raised your brow in recollection.

He goes on comparing the analogy of having to play Duke Leto as a powerful leader of a House. Without his people and court, he wouldn't resemble much of an prestige leader. However Oscar later mentions that Timothee's performance was the catalyst to their relationship look authentic. He is young yet incredibly sympathetic towards what's to be done for the film. His time with both of you really sold your relationship as a family, you'd think.

"So that's a very generous thing to do for a young actor. And I was impressed and admired that," In the background, you can be heard mumbling in agreement. Your partner shifts his posture, facing and expecting you to go next.

Licking your lips, you took one last glance at him before focusing strictly at the Zoom camera. "I think for me, to have a young actor like him- he's very driven about it all. When he's on and off screen, Timothee's just focused- he's very serious and concentrates heavily on what Denny says- and I can say I respect that." You punctuate your point, tapping lightly on your knee. "And I play his mother you know, and I try to accommodate with that. I play along and we work until we find a good rhythm with each other." The older woman on the screen seemed enamored by your compliments regarding your costar. Yet her eyes quickly makes it's way to Oscar, sitting quietly and listening to you ramble.

His laidback posture showed how greatly he took your words in. You grab your glass and take a quick sip before hearing him say, "We raised him well." Taking your hand in both of his as a sign of pride.

A delightful chuckle comes from both you and the interviewer while your partner gives a satisfied grin. "We really did!"

The media did not need proof to know of your enjoyed time during the production of Dune. In fact, multiple vlogs and documentaries about the film had fans and viewers alike become fond of your positive and laid back attitude about it all. Despite playing a calculating character such as Lady Jessica, you were nothing of serious when on screen with your costars.

"Welcome to Arrakis!" You popped into frame, wearing an exquisite dress, costumed by one of the designers. It was golden yellow with chains running down from the bottom half of your face to your chest. A faint veil covered your head but for right now, you had it placed on your hair. You spread your arms with anticipation for the cameraman to pan around your surroundings. "It's sunny today so I think we'd be out here for some time." You moved extremely close to the camera, before moving out of the frame to the side.

Abu Dhabi was bliss. The production and crew worked diligently day and night working in the deserts. And on this particular day, most of the cast had been present as well for the introduction of House Atriedes on Arrakis.

A few shots slowly pans from the crew's tents and Denny far into the sandy mountains as he speaks with Timothee. Another shot slyly captures you showing Josh Brolin an unknown video, sideways. Which somehow made him cackle very enthusiastically, holding his stomach to air as you quickly pat his back multiple of times. In all, everyone of the cast members were having a blast in the dry outskirts of the unknown.

"Hello," Brolin pops in another clip where he stands, wearing the Atreides armor. Under a massive shade area, a few people can be spotted in the background, moving equipment and conversing with others. From afar, the people filming the documentary can be heard presenting a few questions for him to touch upon. "Ah what do I think about Lady Jessica being played by," He says your name sincerely.

The video cuts to you having a conversation with your on and screen husband. A hand covering above your face to shield yourself from the sun, while Oscar tries to move where the light is hitting you as the best he could.

"I mean a phenomenal actor like her playing in that kind of role is guaranteed to have an amazing performance. She's- We've known each for a long time since Sicario and with Denny," The male actor softly grins, staring at where you were. "But Oscar on the other hand, eh- not so much." His tone becoming monotonous, as if the shift in topic was distasteful to the touch.

"Whatcha say, Gurney?!" A scream echoes and it's Oscar, cupping both his hands into an O.

The older actor couldn't keep it together before breaking into frivolous giggles. "Nothing, my lord!" He takes one last glance back before seeing you give him two big thumbs up with a silly smirk. "No in all seriousness, those two are just the best! You can never have a bad day with them."

Another prominent section in the video fans adored was with the actors that played Duncan Idaho and Dr. Liet Kynes. This time they are situated in what looked like the structure of Arrakeen. Where all ornithopters were supposedly stationed and the introduction of Dr. Kynes.

"They're so mom and dad," Jason Momoa shaking his head playfully with his hands clamped together. Both him and Sharon Duncan-Brewster wore still suits unlike many other extras who wore Atreides armor. "I mean- they're playing Paul's parents- but in real life it's just so different."

"Definitely more chaotic," Brewster jumps in, earning a hum from her costar. "They act nothing like them."

A cool shot from different location displays you in a dark with Timothee. It was the scene after Paul is put to test to by the Reverent Mother. It was a chilling scene yes, but in post production, many realize how unprofessional you sometimes were even in the most serious times.

The cameras were not live however the film crew were about to pan to you gesturing back and forth with your on-screen son. It was a interactive and intriguing conversation you both were having. You looking in purely engaged with what the French actor was saying. After a few sentences being spoken, it looked as though you chided a teasing joke which gave the reaction of Timothee slightly snickering, backing away slowly.

"I mean do they look like my parents? No," The young actor states shortly. It looked as though the clip was shot right after capturing your cute moment togehter. "But I'd say- yeah Oscar Isaac's a great actor and- to be able to play my dad is pretty cool. Even though we look nothing alike." Nervous laughter spouts as he clears his throat.

"I feel like I get the resemblances from my mom though," Affectionately stating your name, "You can tell where I got my powers, good looks from." Momentarily readjusting his collar as he takes a quick look from behind, knowing your footsteps.

"See? I'm the favorite parent!" In hushed squeal, you wrapped your hands around Timothee's shoulders, earning a lovable grin back.

[silverjirachi]

I cannot emphasize to you enough that the sonic movies are unreasonably good. they do not follow the formula of being a cash grab that so many other big name franchise movies do.

Yeah there is cheap humor in it sometimes but it’s a kids’ movie, also sonic as a character has always been saying cheap corny stuff and not only that, but every single time there is a gag or a joke it is played completely straight. It’s never out of character, particularly sonic’s lines. I keep thinking about how they’ve made it clear that part of his joking and banter is out of insecurity, a “hahahah i need to talk to diffuse this situation” type of thing. i’m particularly thinking of the “haha who does your highlights” thing in the current movie. Shadow rightfully responds to this like “???? what the fuck dude??” because it’s treated not just as A JOKE but an actual, motivated part of the dialogue that the other characters respond to.

Honestly the person who has the most jarring gags is Robotnik but even then it works for his character because he’s just.. that unhinged. There is a full, sudden 4th-wall break in sonic 3 and i almost didn’t care because if anyone was gonna do it, it would be him. It was kind of a funny “i’m at a movie premiere” moment so it worked in the theatre, but i wonder how it will be received and age for people watching at home. But EVEN THEN, these out-of-sequence moments are so rare, and what they do is add to the tone of the movie, which takes itself seriously, but also reminds us to not take it too seriously. They walk this beautiful delicate balance of being a serious movie fully invested in its own stakes and circumstances while also being movie actualizations of cartoon characters. It centrally hinges on the principle that in order for any humor to work in a performance, the actors (and the story) must still be motivated and fully invested as if everything around them is a real circumstance. All three of the sonic movies have mastered this as an art.

Every single actor puts so much thought and love into their character, and the writing does not assume people will like it “just because.” It is so clear that story is the priority rather than ticket sales, and so they end up creating beautiful moments that serve the characters arcs as a piece of art and storytelling rather than just what’s gonna sell. There are literary devices in these things man. Sometimes they’re a little overemphasized, but again. Kids movie. And the thing is, these moments are woven into the parts that do sell. It’s genuinely phenomenal. It’s like a masterclass on good storytelling.

The sonic movies are one of the few rare “other media” movies that do not cop out just because they’re kids movies. That do not cop out just because they already have an invested fanbase who would come anyway. They are a testament to what happens when everyone on the team from the top down cares about the story and the characters. When they let people who are genuine fans of the content work on it. The movies abound with niche and subtle fan references (even memes!) but you blink and miss them. They’re never distracting and again, never played for JUST being a gag or a reference.

What I’m saying is I came into all three Sonic movies as an already established fan who would see junk anyway, preparing to be disappointed, and got ART instead??????? And they’re still putting out bangers three (hopefully four! AND a spinoff!) movies in??????

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

The Soldier Of Death (10)- Nightmares

Natasha Romanoff X Super Soldier Reader 18+

Summary: Soldat Smerti. The Soldier of Death. You were the perfect weapon: loyal, obedient, and merciless, or so Hydra thought. What happens when these traits are put to the test? Your captivity in the Avenger's tower and the presence of a redhead makes you realise you didn't have to be a monster. The question was though; Did Hydra make you the monster or were you always one?

This fic will contains dark themes. Please read these warnings before starting any of these chapters: graphic descriptions of murder, violence, gore and torture, heavy angst, mental issues.

Please consider these warnings before reading

Word Count: 3.7k

General Masterlist | The Soldier Of Death Masterlist

Specific Chapter Warning: Dark thoughts, flashbacks/nightmares of experiments and murder, graphic descriptions of violence and gore.

—

A knock at your door snapped you out of your thoughts, blinking your eyes as your gaze flickered across your new room, briefly remembering where you were as you had zoned out for a considerable amount of time, still adjusting to the enormous change.

"Y/n?" Natasha's voice called gently from the other side of the door, an odd weight taking over your chest as a small pang of guilt invaded you, the thoughts from earlier haunting you as a mocking chuckle seemed to linger at the back of your mind, the sight of her lifeless eyes staring back at you unable to be erased. Your eyes flickered down to your hands that trembled slightly, every time you blinked the image flickering between your normal hands and blood stained ones, the darkness incessant on tormenting you, determined to ensure you suffered.

Show her the real you, let's see if she still comes crawling back to check on us.

This was the real 'you', you argued back, still refusing to accept that the darkness was truly a part of you, desperate to believe it was something Hydra put into your head and not your own sick and twisted mind.

Stop lying to yourself. You crave to hurt others, to kill others. It's only a matter of time before she sees that too.

Another knock helps drown out the sinister words, your head snapping over to the door, noticing how it opens slightly, Natasha calling your name again.

"Y/n? Can I come in?" she asks, part of you screaming no, not wanting to put her in danger while the other part of you wants her to stay with you, to help numb your conflicted state and offer a peaceful escape for a little while.

"Sure," you answer with a hesitant voice, the spy immediately picking up on your discomfort as she enters the room, her enticing green scanning over the room to see how you'd changed a few things. She noticed how the mirror in the large room was covered with a sheet, your bathroom door shut and partly blocked by the bedside table, the sofa having moved closer to the window where you were currently sat curled up, your hands hugging your knees to your chest as you stared ahead at the view. Her brows furrowed at how small you seemed, her mouth opening and closing as she was unsure of what to say, not too sure as to what caused your sudden switch in demeanour.

"Is everything alright?" she murmurs, cautiously moving to sit on the other end of the sofa you were on, observing your reaction. Your fingers started to drum against your legs in an anxious manner, your gaze still fixated on the view outside but she could tell you were watching her in your peripheral vision.

From what you could see, you noticed how the gentle glow from the sun that streamed through the window caused her red hair to appear more vivid, her skin highlighted beautifully by the light which caused it to look impossibly soft and smooth, the green of her eyes also popping as the light caused them to look even more emerald if that were possible.

"Yeah," you sigh out, aware of how obvious the lie seemed, not too bothered at the moment as you didn't want to tell her the truth, to scare her away and show her that side of you. You would never want her to see that side of you.

"You know you can talk to me, right?" she almost whispers, her eyes trained on you rather than the spectacle that was outside, the sun starting to set which was why she was originally here.

"I know," you murmur back, risking a look towards her, noticing the tenderness behind her eyes, the gentle and soft smile that she was offering to you, nothing to indicate fear or hate present on her face. A warmth replaced the odd weight that had settled in your chest, getting lost in her enchanting green as she let the gaze linger, your eyes eventually flickering away as the darkness seeps back into your thoughts.

Let me talk to her, let's see what happens then

They snickered, your jaw clenching at their mocking tone, having a vague idea of what they would do if you lost control, the desire to protect her encouraging you to continue the tiresome battle of your mind.

When you remain quiet for a little longer, the room being enveloped in silence, Natasha speaks up again. She could sense there was something going on in your mind, just not sure as to what, the redhead longing to help you be able to be free of whatever Hydra did to you, just wanting you to be able to be the real you. Not their weapon.

"Do you still want to see the sunset from the roof?" she asks in a soft murmur, not wanting to push you and make you feel as though you had to come as, although she was eager to help distract you from whatever war was going on inside you, she knew that today would have been a lot, the earlier incident of the medical tests and training along with the adjustment to everything going to have taken its toll on you.

The room once again was wrapped up in a silence as you thought over her request, the wait so long Natasha thought you may not have heard her. When her mouth opened to ask again, you responded,

"Perhaps... Another night," you whisper, looking at her with an apologetic glint in your eyes as you could tell she was just trying to help, that odd weight stomping out the warmth as disappointment took over. Earlier, you were excited to go with her but now you felt too on edge to truly enjoy it, your expression conveying your previous excitement.

Natasha doesn't take your words to heart, smiling a little as you tried to make your rejection sound as polite as possible, your words also giving her hope as you had suggested another time, your gaze flickering down to her lips as they tugged into a slightly wider smile as a small one grew on your face.

"Another night," she whispers back, her eyes holding an indecipherable glint in them as she slowly pushes herself off of the sofa to make her way back to the door, pausing and turning to look back at you. "Enjoy the rest of your night Y/n," she says with a soft smile, her tone gentle and soothing before she leaves the room, closing the door and leaving you on your own.

"You too, Natasha," you murmur back despite knowing she couldn't hear you, gaze lingering on the door before you lose yourself to your thoughts again, trying to unpick your fractured mind.

***

A sob escaped you as your veins practically glowed blue as the serum was pumped into you, fingers prying into the table you were on, denting the metal as pain coursed through you violently. A harsh whimper was ripped out of you as another needle followed the last, the restraints on your hands and feet stopping you from wriggling away from the metal needle as it slid into another vein, another wave of agony washing over your body as you could do nothing but cry out in pain. Your voice was hoarse from the last few rounds of serum, the screaming and incessant pain leaving you exhausted after each trial, this one feeling different from the last as a surge of energy seemed to consume you.

"Stay still Soldat," gritted out a scientist but you ignored their comment, your fist pulling against the restraint, snapping it with the amount of force you used. His eyes widened along with the other scientist in the room as your other hand effortlessly shattered the other handcuff, the second man running quickly to the door to escape when he found it locked, his hand wrapped around the metal handle and desperately pulling on it, knowing that he would need to leave now if he wanted to live.

You blocked out the desperate pleas from the other man as he called out to the other guards nearby, your gaze locked on the other scientist who stared at you in horror and awe, the knowledge that the serum worked again piquing your general's interest who watched behind the one way glass.

"Soldat," he trailed off while staggering back, the reality of the situation settling in his mind as you broke free of your last restraints, your eyes glossed over with darkness and malice. "Soldat-" he was interrupted by your body tackling his to the ground, the days, the weeks, the months, the years of torture and pain he inflicted on you fuelling your actions as you lost control, wanting to rip the man apart and break him.

The other scientist could only look back in pure terror as an animalistic scream was ripped out of his co-worker, your body pinning him to the ground while your hands roughly snapped the bones in his arms as he tried to pry you off of him.

"General!" The man at the door screamed, begging the man to let him be free as your hands went to the other's head, eyes holding nothing but darkness in them as your fingers pressed into his skull, killing him in the same way your general would order you to kill your victims. As usual, the bone started to strain under your thumbs, sobs leaving the man beneath you until they were silenced by a deafening crack. A sigh left you when his heart soon stopped beating, your ears zoning in on how it slowly stopped while you pulled your fingers out of what was left of his head, crimson oozing onto the concrete floor as you wiped what was left on your hands on his white lab coat, moving to stand and face the other man.

Nothing but pure rage and anger filled you as the man turned to look at you with fear in his eyes, his back pressed against the door as there was nowhere left for him to go.

They made you like this. He made you like this. It was only fair that he suffered like you did.

A gasp left you as you woke up from the vivid nightmare, your chest rising and falling as your eyes frantically searched around the room, trying to calm yourself down. You pulled the blanket up further on your body as you moved to sit on the sofa instead, not wanting to sleep in the bed as the mattress was far too soft, the feeling unnerving you as you were used to sleeping on something solid, your mind still reeling from the memory. You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment but all you could feel was the warmth that enveloped your arm as your fist went straight through the other man, fingers searching their way through flesh and blood until they reached his heart, ready to rip it out and watch as his body slumped to the ground.

They deserved it

The darkness said, their voice lacking the usual mocking tone as your hands covered your face, mind thinking for a split second that you could feel the blood from the man smearing on your face as your fingers moved to cover your eyes. You didn't bother to say or think anything back to them, simply trying your best to clear your mind, the attempt futile.

You knew you weren't getting back to sleep after the nightmare, your body itching for something other to do than drown in your thoughts, the only idea being to go back down to the training room. You were a little scared to leave your room in the middle of the night, not too sure if you'd be punished or not, so you made sure your movements were stealthy, footsteps light as you navigate your way around the compound until you reach the room, noticing how quiet and empty it was.

You didn't bother flicking on the lights as the small windows present illuminated the room softly, enough for you to see where things were to let your pent up frustrations out.

It was a cycle of cardio and weights, neither seeming to help tire you out as you either lifted the heavy bar over and over again or ran for an hour on end at a ridiculous pace, the enhanced stamina seeming to be endless as nothing seemed to tire you out, your mind wanting to sleep but body desperate to stay awake.

You didn't realise how long you were at the training room until Clint came over to you with a bottle of water, his face calm and containing a smile, hiding his concerns as he could tell you had been in here for most of the night.

"Thirsty?" he asked, to which you nodded a little nervously, not keeping his gaze as you finished the bottle in almost record speed, a pant leaving you as you realised how much strenuous exercise you had put your body through. "Everything alright?" he asked and you wished he wouldn't as you didn't want to have to talk about it.

"I just needed a distraction," you reply vaguely as you knew saying 'nothing' wouldn't have been a good enough answer, not wanting him to press for any more information.

The archer saw how you shifted from foot to foot, your head turning a little at all the sounds coming from the rest of the training room, your ears picking up all the noise as you weren't utterly consumed by your thoughts. An idea popped into his mind as he saw your eyes scan the room, his hands digging into his pockets in search of something.

"Try these," he says while handing you some earphones, your brows furrowing as you had never used them before. He chuckles a little at the confused expression written across your face, his hands motioning for you to put them in your ears before his hand pulls out his phone from his pocket. "Listening to music always helps distract me," he explains before he plays the song that was already loaded, the 80s hit causing your eyes to watch him puzzled at the strange noise, your mind noticing how it helped block out everything in the background without your thoughts taking over.

Clint watched with a small smug smile as you seemed to focus on the song, helping distract you from whatever was bothering you, as Nat came to him last night to talk about you, the archer giving her the 'best friend opinion' of the situation as she was unsure of how to help you and a little worried.

"Better?" He asked once the song had finished, a smile subtly creeping onto your lips as you actually rather enjoyed the song, nodding to him before moving to take the earphone out, the man stopping you, "Keep them, I'll play the rest of the songs for you now, but then later I'll sort you out a phone and make you a playlist." The words go straight over your head but you nod anyway, thanking him quietly before doing a few more rounds of running on the treadmill, hoping to tire your body out enough that you would sleep later without any issues.

***

The next few weeks seemed to be a constant cycle of waking up to a nightmare and sneaking off down to the training room, the ear phones a necessity to you now as you slowly but surely learnt how to use the music app on the phone, Clint's suggested playlist playing in the device as you worked out every day, still unable to get a good night's sleep. You felt guilty at how distant you had been to others, especially Natasha as you still hadn't gone to the rooftop with her yet, but you made a move to stop that as Wanda approached you in the kitchen.

Your teeth sank into the apple that you took from the fruit bowl, hoping no one would see you as the open space was empty until the young witch walked in, a mission on her mind.

"Hey Y/n," her tone casual as she walked up to you, moving to go into the fridge instead, your mind on guard as you were still not used to not having to ask permission for stuff.

"Hey," you reply back with a shy tone, still a little cautious of the witch after she invaded your thoughts, the brunette understanding of your nervousness. You took another bite of the red apple, the crunch seeming to fill the silence that brewed in the room, Wanda moving to lean against a countertop as she watched you sit awkwardly on one of the stools.

"I want to apologise to you," she says after a moment, her fingers playing with the ends of her long sleeve shirt, "I'm sorry that I went into your thoughts and made you relieve those... events."

You don't look at her as brief flashes of what you remembered filtered through your mind, your eyes fixated on the half eaten apple in your hands.

"Did...Did you see them too?" you asked, wanting to confirm your beliefs about her powers.

"I did," she quietly confesses, your eyes slowly moving over to look at her, noticing the genuine apologetic tone of her voice, "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry you had to see them too," you murmur, taking her by surprise, her brows raising a little as she watches your form seem to slump in disappointment. "Thank you for apologising, I'm going to head back to my room now," you say, wanting to leave the conversation as swiftly as possible but her words stop you, your head turning back to look at the witch.

"Wait," she says to stop you leaving, "We're having a movie night tonight, the whole team. I was wondering if you wanted to join us?" Her eyes hold a hopeful glint in them, your mouth opening and closing just as quick, unsure of what to say.

"I don't know," you trail off, her smiling a little as it wasn't a straight up no.

"It will be fun, I promise you," she says, excitement seeping into her tone as she had gotten to choose the film for tonight, "I know it's hard to get used to but, we're a family here, and we want to get to know you better." The cheerful and optimistic look in her eyes wins you over, the idea of being with everyone a little daunting but the thought of familiar green eyes and red hair help calm you down.

"I'll join you," you say, earning a wide smile from the young woman, the sight inevitably causing one to grow on your face before you say goodbye, making your way back to your room.

Too busy thinking about the movie later, you bump into someone who rounds the corner, a recognisable shade of red entering your vision.

"Sorry," you both say at the same time, her voice a little breathless as she came straight from the training room after her workout.

You seemed to get lost in a trance as you take in her outfit, the simple sports bra and leggings occupying your thoughts while your eyes focus on a bead of sweat that drips down her neck in a tantalising slow motion, the sigh causing a different warm feeling to take over you, the sensation a lot lower than your chest.

"Y/n?" she asks, a hint of teasing to her tone as you snap out of it, red tinting your cheeks as you realise you were staring.

"Sorry," your tone shy as you mumble the apology. "I don't know what came over me," you say honestly, missing the subtle smirk that took over the redhead's lips, moving past her to go towards your room, confused as to when she followed you. You stood frozen by your door as she went to the room next to you, her hand opening the door before looking over to you, her brows furrowed as you stared at her once more.

"What?" She asked out in a chuckle, the smile never leaving her lips as she was glad to talk to you again, noticing how you distanced yourself recently.

"Have you always been in the room next to me?" you ask, unaware that anyone was near your room, the thought of her hearing you wake up after a nightmare entering your mind.

"Yes," she says, her smile dropping a little but still present as she could see your hesitation on whether to ask a question. She remained patient with you, moving to lean on the side of the door frame, her arms crossing over her chest in a relaxed manner.

"Have... Have you ever heard me during the night?" your voice was laced with nerves as you didn't want people to know, a sympathetic look taking over her face.

"Why, what have you been doing in the night, alone?" she teased, trying to lighten the mood but the innuendo goes straight over your head, your brows furrowing at her words. Her eyes soften as she looks at you, nodding to answer your question as you look down a little embarrassed.

"Sorry if I woke you up," you mutter, not meeting her gaze.

"You can come to me if you have a nightmare," she says with a gentle voice, reassuring you that she wouldn't mind, "We don't have to talk about it, I just...I don't want you to think you're alone. We're here for you. I'm here for you." You meet her eyes after her words, offering her a shy smile before opening your own door and looking back at her, unsure of how to feel at the care she was showing you.

"Thank you Natasha," your tone is filled with appreciation as you smile at her, a warmth enveloping the redhead's chest at your softening features before you enter the room, leaving her to stare at the spot you were just at, unable to stop thinking about your smile. 

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Day 30: Subspace

A/n: first attempt at writing Subspace 💪

Warnings: smut, rough sex, teasing, Subspace, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Kinktober

This gif I can’t 🤤

You loved teasing James, it was the highlight of your week and you’d do it at the worst times for him.

He’d be at a meeting or work dinner or something and his phone would buzz, he’d check it only to find a video of you touching yourself wearing his shirt.

He never let you have toys for this exact reason.

Metallica was on tour and you couldn’t come, but you’d made sure James didn’t get a moment alone or a moment of peace.

You made sure Kirk, Lars and Jason were keeping him busy, if not them then a crew member. You made sure he always had a roommate and his only breaks were bathroom breaks.

It’s not that you wanted to keep him stressed, it’s just that you were always sending him pictures of yourself, your body, calling him just so he could hear you cum. You wanted him pent up and aching in his jeans for you when he got back, and that’s exactly what you got.

You were sleeping when he got home, it was around 2:00 am. He didn’t care, after everything you’d just put him through, and he knew it was your doing, he needed to ruin you.

You yelped as he pulled you out of bed, he scoffed when he saw you weren’t wearing anything, not a shirt, no panties, nothing. And you had his pillow between your thighs.

He held you up against him as he tore off his own clothes, keeping you standing and pinned to his chest until he got his hard, pulsing cock and got to fuck you.

He wasn’t focusing on you, not caring if it was too much too soon because he knew you’d adjust in a minute anyway.

One arm held your torso tight to him while the other gripped your hip so tight it was sure to leave bruises. His hips slammed against you, tip causing a bulge to form in your stomach.

The room filled with the sound of skin hitting skin and your moans that bordered screams as your legs shook, the only thing keeping you standing being James.

“I fucking hate you, you little bitch.” He spat through gritted teeth right next to your ear. “And you know exactly why, you know what you did, you motherfucker!” A harsh hand came down on your ass and you squealed.

You didn’t get much of a chance to recover before he was throwing you back onto the bed, climbing over you and pinning you down, pushing your face into the mattress to muffle your sounds.

You’d already had your fun thinking about how he’d react earlier, already ditzy and dazed, but now, with him breaking your back, you couldn’t even think of anything else but him, how he made you feel, how close you were, the only words formulating were his name over and over again.

He made sure you were screaming his name, sheets drenched in your mixed juices. He kept manhandling you into new positions, however he wanted, spitting curses and insults at you like it was nothing.

However, as the night wore on and the sun began to shine through the curtains, casting a warm golden glow over the room and the both of you, he calmed down a bit.

James had been so done with you, so ready to come home and break you, and he did, but now he just missed you. His thrusts got slower and he paid more attention to your noises, your body language, making sure you were still ok through the whole thing.

“So good for me, so, so good for me, sweetheart, just give me a little more, yeah? A little more and we can sleep, darling.” He mused in your ear, kissing down your neck.

You felt everything go fuzzy, your mind and body. Your vision went white and you were in ecstasy, letting the warm feeling flood over you.

James saw this and smiled down at you, pulling out and laying beside you. “That good, huh..?” He asked, voice no louder than a whisper. He knew he couldn’t touch you, not when you were like this, it would feel too much. “I’ll be back in a minute, sweetheart.” He said, kissing your forehead and leaving.

You were left floating in your pleasure until he came back with a tray of things, snacks, drinks, a bowl he’d fill with warm water and a cloth to wipe you down with when you were ready.

He didn’t want to touch you but he couldn’t just leave you like that so he pulled a nice warm and fluffy blanket over you, running his hand over your stomach through that to add some pressure and see how you’d react.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he said, laying beside you and just staring at you, “I’m not going anywhere soon, we can stay here and sleep.” He let out a heavy sigh, exhaustion weighing on him as well. “And afterwards you can tell me why you decided to be such a bitch while I was away.” He said through soft laughter, still admiring the galaxy swirling in your eyes.

[numberoneredriotfan]

It makes me really upset that Kirishima and Bakugou's friendship wasn't highlighted too much after season 4 or the shie hassakai arc. And I don't even mean this in a shipping sense. Kirishima was a HUGE part of Bakugou's character development even if it wasn't shown that way.

At first, Kirishima is introduced as one of the only people who can handle Bakugou and all his intensity- as well as his explosive (haha get it) personality. This is showcased more clearly in the sports festival arc.

Kirishima offers to be Bakugou's horse, because he's the only one that can handle his explosions with his hardening (which is probably the only quirk in 1-A that really effectively deflect Bakugou's explosions, so nobody else could really be in that position other than Kirishima.) Also, he without hesitation called Bakugou a dumbass and told him to remember his fucking name, even after seeing how angry he can get when provoked. And this isn't even the last time Kirishima does this. So Kirishima becomes someone who can handle Bakugou, but their friendship doesn't end there.

Most this development probably happened off-screen, but overtime Bakugou started to see Kirishima as an equal. Not just someone who could handle Bakugou and put up with him, but as someone who is able to stand by his side unwavering while also understanding his perspective to some extent (which I assume is rare for Bakugou, considering most other's view of him is either "what a jackass" or "wow he's so cool").

Which is why I really love this scene they added in the anime, which shows that Kirishima understands Bakugou, even if he seems like just an arrogant asshole. I think the only other character who understands Bakugou on that level is Deku (and of course his classmates learn to understand later on, but I'm talking about early on).

Kirishima was arguably the first person who Bakugou saw as an equal. Something I noticed about early Bakugou is that he either had a superiority complex or a inferiority complex with someone, and there was really no in between lol. That was, until Kirishima. Who came in as someone who neither above or below him. While Kirishima doesn't take any of Bakugou's shit, he also doesn't treat Bakugou like just a jerk.

This is of course, showcased best in the iconic Bakugou rescue scene.

This scene was honestly just such a good show of their bond, and how Bakugou sees Kirishima. Because as Deku pointed out, Bakugou wouldn't have taken anyone else's hand. We know this for a fact, as this was the same man who would've rather been kidnapped by villains then accept Deku's help-

So yeah. I fully believe if it was anyone other than Kirishima to reach out a hand to him, he would've straight up ignored them and would've tried to fight the villains himself. (Death is one thing but his ego is another apparently-).

It would be ignorant of me to say that Kirishima was the only one who understood Bakugou, because that's just not the case. Because as we saw multiple times throughout the series, Deku (as previously stated) understands Bakugou very well from the very beginning. However, while this opens up the gateway for a reconciliation with Bakugou in the future, Bakugou's complex feelings about Deku make it impossible for them to form a relationship based on that. Kirishima came in as a breath of fresh air, in which there was no lingering resentment or complexity involved. And of course, later in the series, we see the other members of class A understand Bakugou on that level as well. But in the beginning at least, Kirishima was the only person he could sort build that bridge of understanding with.

And even if it's never stated explicitly, I truly believe Bakugou wouldn't have opened up to relationships with his other classmates if it weren't for Kirishima befriending him. Or at the very least, it would've taken him a lot longer.

And the we have to take into accountability of how much their friendship has helped KIRISHIMA develop as a a character. As we can see, from the very beginning, Kirishima has a bad habit of comparing his quirk to the others of their class.

This isn't his fault necessarily, as in their society it's probably drilled into your head from a young age that you can only be a good hero if you have a flashy quirk.

And because of this, rather than looking at his own strength, he pays a lot of attention to how he compares to others.

So clearly, he's hard on himself and has a lot of self-esteem issues. (I am him. He is me-)

And it's clear he looks up to Bakugou a lot from just...Bakugou being Bakugou. Bakugou's a very forward person who jumps in without thinking (for better or worse), which is almost everything Kirishima wants to be. I honestly think that might've been- at least partially- what drew Kirishima to Bakugou. He wanted to be more like him, even if he wouldn't admit to himself. He, in a way, was putting Bakugou on a pedestal, even if he didn't realize that Bakugou sees him as an equal.

But then, Bakugou tells him this:

Which in the end, pushes Kirishima to reach his full potential, which came in form of unbreakable. Bakugou, who was originally someone he looked up to and admired, eventually became his motivation. His drive, even. And it wasn't just Bakugou, obviously, but Bakugou still contributed a lot.

And after all this, their friendship gets pushed to the side so we can focus on Bakugou and Deku's reconciliation. Which isn't bad! I love Bakugou and Deku's friendship as well! And I will say it holds a lot more importance to the plot of the story, and it wasn't necessarily a requirement to have Bakugou and Kirishima's relationship showcased more.

But still, I feel as though one could assume that once Bakugou got his character development from Kirishima, he didn't need anymore. Like he was just a stepping stone in order to reach his redemption with Deku. Which is just a sad way to look at their relationship :( and I truthfully believe that that just isn't the case. We did get a few crumbs, but even then we never got to see them talk one-one as friends after a while.

This isn't supposed to be Kiribaku propaganda or anything like that, and some of this will probably fall into headcanon territory and is just my interpretation of their characters. This also isn't me saying that their relationship is more important than Bakugou and Deku's, or Kirishima and Mina's, this is just more of a vent on how I would've liked to see more of their friendship.

Edit: just wanted to put this here as well

(From mha ultra analysis)