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wttcsms · 2 months ago

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⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ hallmark holiday !!

ᝰ.ᐟ tis the season to sit by the fireplace and indulge in cheesy, cliche, ever-so-predictable hallmark movies where we know the main couple will always get their happily ever after. alternatively: a scenario post detailing the cliche holiday romance you and your fave would be ♡ྀི ( fem!reader & sfw )

starring keiji akaashi, atsumu miya, shoyo hinata, seishiro nagi, shoei barou, yoichi isagi, jinpachi ego, noel noa, rin itoshi, oliver aiku, kento nanami, naoya zenin, porco galliard, colt grice, levi ackerman

:¨ ·.· ¨: `· . haikyuu films coming to a theater near you ౨ৎ

⋆⁺₊❅. dedicated to you starring keiji akaashi synopsis keiji akaashi finally gets his dream promotion to the literature department — sort of. see, first he's given what the company calls a "trial run", where they're testing to see how well he'll do. if this book that he edits makes it to the bestseller's list within its first month of publication, he gets the position permanently. fail, and he doesn't just get demoted — he gets fired. this dream of his becomes a nightmare whenever he realizes the author they're assigning to him is you — famous literary critic turned author. well, almost an author. this will be your first book you're ever writing. see, you've got a bit of a reputation. your reviews of novels, whether they'e indie books available only on kindle unlimited or works considered to be modern classics, are nothing short of scathing. rarely is there ever a book that seems to impress you. and while your reviews are valid, a group of scorned writers (who are all beloved by the booktok community, which, in your opinion, invalidates everything they do by default) publicly challenge you: if their writing is so bad, why don't you publish a book and show them how it's done?

exclusive sneak peek! "so you're my editor?" you raise an eyebrow at the man sitting across from you. he's wearing a brown blazer, his hair neatly parted with gel, and he has such a mild-mannered aura about him that you want to groan in agony. of course, the only shmuck who'd be willing to touch your book (book is generous; you barely have half of a first draft) would be some dweeb who's probably been out of work for like, the last year. "yes. i'm keiji akaashi. we spoke over email." he reaches into his workbag, probably to hand you a business card that you'll end up tossing in the cafe's trashcan. "oh. from the tone of your emails, i was expecting someone..." you don't finish your sentence. "someone what?" he asks. "it's nothing." you wave your hand, as if to tell him that the comment was useless anyway. "listen, i'm sure i'm not your ideal client, but we don't have to keep meeting. i'll make your job easy by making sure you never have to edit or touch a single letter on my drafts. just let me handle this my own way, and i'm sure—" "no." you don't normally let people interrupt you, but the shift in his tone makes you pause. you stare at him curiously, only this time, you notice that keiji akaashi doesn't seem so mild-mannered right now. he continues. "i'm not sure where you got the bright idea that you would just write this book on your own, but you don't make a deal with a major publishing house just to go about the project like all the indie authors you criticize in your little column. the minute you signed that contract, you became my responsibility." akaashi looks you in the eyes as he tells you, "so from this point forward, your book is about to become our book. and i only plan on producing bestsellers." you smile at that, leaning forward and matching the intensity of his gaze. "good. because i only plan on writing a bestseller."

⋆⁺₊❅. make it to christmas starring atsumu miya synopsis break-ups can be tough. coming home for the holidays can be tougher. combine these two situations, and throw in the fact that no one can know about said break-up, and this might be the toughest situation to go through. here's the deal: you and atsumu, who've been together for the past four years, are deemed "most likely to get married". your friends, family, and even strangers on the internet all think you two are the couple that will make them believe in the power of love again. with this type of pressure, neither of you are willing to wreck the holiday spirit by announcing your break-up, and really, mama miya just got a particularly bad diagnosis. the last thing either of you want to do is break her heart some more. so, you both agree to pretend to still be together, all for the sake of "saving christmas", so to speak. but then, mama miya walks in on the two of you in the kitchen at the worst possible moment. atsumu is down on one knee, kneeling in front of you. finally, some good news this season: her baby boy is getting married to the love of his life.

exclusive sneak peak! "atsumu, this whole thing is a mess!" you whisper-shout at him, leaning down and examining the space beneath the floor kitchen cabinets in search of your missing earring. "well, you can't back out now!" he whisper-shouts back, crawling on all fours to help you look for the damn earrings osamu's new girlfriend gifted you. "what would we tell everybody?" "how about the truth?" "we will tell them the truth! right after christmas." "you idiot, your mom has her next appointment the day after christmas! the whole point i agreed to this was so that way we wouldn't crush her with a whole day of bad news!" "you're right." your back is turned to him, but even without looking, you know he's nodding his head. "we should just wait 'til the month's over then." "that's even worse!" now you finally do turn around, crossing your arms against your chest. "i really think this was a bad idea. we need to figure out how to come clean before this whole thing blows up in our faces." he sighs, knowing that you're right. you always are. it's what he loves — loved; he's not quite sure if he's still allowed to use the L-word concerning you — about you. then, he perks up, catching a glint of your missing earring. propping himself up on his good knee, he presents the ring to you earnestly. "oh!" you grin, happy that atsumu found the damn thing. now, osamu's girlfriend will be properly placated. before you can reach for it, three things happen in rapid succession. one: the kitchen door swings open. two: mama miya assesses the situation quickly, and lets out the biggest shriek of excitement heard 'round the world. three: this whole thing definitely just blew up in your faces.

⋆⁺₊❅. v for valentine starring shoyo hinata synopsis you hate valentine's day — after you found out your (former!) boyfriend of three years was cheating on you on this very special holiday, you see what the 14th is all about. commercialized "love": packaged in bright pink packaging and red hearts that get sold to unsuspecting fools. however, as a wedding planner, you still have to love love. it's just hard to whenever the wedding you're planning is set for feb. 14th... and it's to your ex-boyfriend and the girl he cheated on you with. you know it's petty and ridiculous and horribly immature, but you're plotting and scheming ways to ruin their wedding without it being tied directly back to you. the only obstacle in your way, though, is the bride-to-be's annoying cousin who immediately catches onto your plans and seems intent on putting a stop to you.

exclusive sneak peek! "what do you think you're doing?" you jump up, startled at the sudden intrusion. everyone else is supposed to be occupied, oohing and ahhing at bridezilla's reception dress reveal. "nothing." you say, in that tone of voice that makes it very, very obvious to anyone who can hear that you were definitely up to something. "really?" hinata asks. "because it looks like you're trying to convince the dog to tear up my cousin's high heels." busted. (you're too flustered and trying to come up with an excuse as to why there's peanut butter on his cousin's designer heels that you don't notice the way hinata looks like he's trying to hold back his laughter.)

:¨ ·.· ¨: `· . blue lock films coming to a theater near you ౨ৎ

⋆⁺₊❅. married by christmas starring seishiro nagi synopsis as the only daughter of the mikage business empire, not to mention having an older brother who could care less about the family business, you should be rightfully inheriting a good majority of mikage corp. on the day of your twenty-fifth birthday, you anticipate the metaphorical keys to your family's empire. instead, you receive the worst news of your life: reo's going to lead mikage corp starting on christmas day (a gift that he never asked for), and since you're still unmarried at the decrepit age of twenty-five, your grandparents are demanding you start going on blind dates with the men they've found for you. when you angrily confront your parents, wanting to know why everything will be handed to reo, who doesn't even want this responsibility, the answer is clear: they need a man to be the face of mikage. if you marry someone, even if you're the one pulling the strings from behind, you can still inherit the business by having your husband look like the one in control. your parents know that you don't want to get married, but what they don't know is that you're willing to do anything to get what you've worked so hard for. you didn't spend years abroad to study at the best business school in the world and to build connections all for it to go down the drain. but then you realize that all these men your grandparents found for you won't be willing to just sit back and let you do all the work. they want power of their own. where in the world could you possibly find someone you can trust to be married to in these conditions? and then it dawns on you: your older brother's best friend! from what you remember of him during high school, nagi wants nothing more in life than to just be able to make easy money and relax, left to his own devices. he's never taken advantage of reo, so he'll probably stay loyal to you. and a quick google search reveals that nagi's never even been in a public relationship. he's perfect.

exclusive sneak peek! "you bought me a ring?" you stare at the velvet box resting on your living room table, eyeing it like a bomb that might explode at any minute. "huh? oh yeah, why?" nagi's voice is cracking through the speaker of your phone. you're not sure where he is; you don't really know much about your husband-to-be, you realize. you should get him to email you his daily schedule. you plan on making note of that in your outlook calendar, after this call. "i didn't expect you to get me a ring." you frown. "forward me the invoice for it, and i will make sure to reimburse you. in the future, please refrain from making any purchases related to our relationship unless i clearly allow it and expect it. christmas in front of my family, and public birthday celebrations, for example, are occasions in which i'll allow gift-giving." "you're sayin' my future wife doesn't want gifts?" nagi wants to choke reo. he's the one who said you expected to be spoiled, and all the guys on his team seem to be adamant that buying gifts for your significant other is the way to go. if he knew you were going to start talking business around him, he wouldn't have gone through the hassle of finding a decent jeweler in this city. "this is a business partnership, nagi. not a romantic relationship. in business, you buy gifts only to bribe. are you trying to bribe me right now?" no, he thinks. he was only trying to make you happy.

⋆⁺₊❅. a king for christmas starring shoei barou synopsis serving as king but hated by a small, powerful group of witches, the ruler of the kingdom, shoei barou, is cursed and expelled to another world where his tyranny will not be tolerated. the only way to return back to his world is for him to learn benevolence and empathy. they certainly gave him a challenge; it'll be hard to be kind and empathetic whenever you're magically transported to the twenty-first century without a single clue as to how the world works. luckily, he ends up transported here, unconscious, on the front porch of a tired, overworked, graveyard shift ER nurse. you signed an oath to protect and save all lives, so you can't exactly kick the large man passed out by your front door, now can you?

exclusive sneak peek! "where is your horse?" barou asks you, following you around your house. him being your shadow is odd, considering how he towers over you so much, he's actually casting a shadow onto you. seriously, he's blocking the sunlight peeking through your blinds. "my horse? you think i'm a horse girl?" you whirl around to meet him, nearly bumping into his muscular chest as you do so. he makes a face, not sure what to make of your exclamation. "how will you travel into town?" "like everyone else. with a car." you hold up your key fob, and he immediately snatches it from your hands, staring at the fob curiously. "you travel using this?" he points to it, and you nod. "witch." he says. "what did you just call me?" you stare at him, stunned. "witch." he repeats, still holding onto your key fob. "to travel in a contraption so small... magic is the only reasonable explanation. you must be a witch. why didn't you tell me this sooner? we can use this—this car, and you can take me back to my kingdom at once!" he straightens his back, holding your key fob out of your reach. "witch, i demand you transport me back home." "i should've kicked you when i had the chance." you mutter, wondering how hard this stranger banged his head to forget what a car is.

⋆⁺₊❅. the perfect playbook starring yoichi isagi synopsis bastard munchen is forcing all of its players to dedicate their time during the holiday season to an approved community outreach initiative. isagi sees nothing better than to return to his hometown, and help volunteer to coach the local little league team that's 1) underfunded and 2) currently coached by the only person kind enough to volunteer: you, the fresh-out-of-college brand new, bubbly elementary school teacher. yoichi might not be the biggest believer in team work makes the dream work, but you don't make a bad teammate... not in the slightest.

exclusive sneak peek! "isagi," you frown as you stare at the whiteboard, trying to make sense of all the x's and o's and arrows he's scrawled on them. "you want to train this group of seven to nine year olds... to become strikers?" he nods, pleased that you're finally starting to see his vision. "yes, exactly!" "the recreational elementary-aged youth team... is going to undergo a simulation of what you went through as a high school boy?" "well, it'll be tweaked accordingly. with your guidance, of course! it'll be a more tame version, but i'm sure the results will be the same." when he smiles at you like that, you can't help but want to give in. "and besides, i'm proof that project blue lock is a very beneficial program. look how i turned out!" you think back to when you curiously searched him up on the internet. "top 10 isagi crash-outs on the field" was not the result you were expecting. but he's been nothing but kind and enthusiastic around you and the kids. it's not like he's some egotistical maniac who only cares about soccer, right? "okay." you nod slowly. "project baby blue lock it is, then."

⋆⁺₊❅. cease and assist starring jinpachi ego synopsis former collegiate athlete with a professional career ahead of you, your dreams of becoming the world's best women's soccer player gets crushed the minute you suffer the worst injury possible. now, you spend your time trapped in an office, working for the japan football association, waiting for the decades to pass you by so you can finally retire and die. until the head of the association pulls you to his office and lets you know that you're going to be going undercover; apparently, jinpachi ego is creating a soccer program that's supposedly going to change japanese soccer, and he wants you to report back to him and the jfa so they can anticipate everything ego plans on throwing at them. hired to project blue lock as ego's personal assistant, you spend practically the whole day with him. he's annoying, never listens to your advice, mansplains everything, and refuses to eat anything resembling a vegetable unless you force it down his throat. he's also the only person to match your passion for the sport, and the only one to call you out for not continuing to chase your dreams. the more time you spend by his side, the less and less you want to report to the jfa...

exclusive sneak peek! "sir," you grit your teeth, clutching onto the files in your hand because you know if your hands are unoccupied, you'd be sprinting across the room so you could personally choke jinpachi ego out. "i have an mba from the top business school in this country. i've played soccer since i was a child, and was one of the most decorated d1 players back in college. i know i'm just your assistant, but i can promise you, i am capable of far more than heating up your cup ramen." he doesn't even turn around his chair so he can face you; instead, he's still laser focused on the massive monitor in front of him, his eyes occasionally flickering to the other dozen screens surrounding the room. he doesn't even acknowledge your words. "are you seriously going to ignore me?" you snap, strangling the poor papers in your grasp. "are you done speaking? last time i tried to answer back, you yelled at me for not letting you finish." he still isn't looking at you, but you're certain he sees the nasty scowl that crosses your face. somehow, ego is capable of seeing everything. "forget it. you're impossible." "and you're a failure of a player." he tells you, right before you can storm out. "excuse me?" "you keep talking about how good you were at soccer, yet you never even bothered to pursue it after you got out of physical therapy. good in college doesn't mean anything when it's been so long. that's why i don't listen to you." he turns his chair, finally staring at you. "when you prove to me that you're still as good as you claim you used to be, maybe i'll take your advice. until then, get out of my office until i call you back."

⋆⁺₊❅. the only exception starring noel noa synopsis at thirty-three years old with not a single serious romantic relationship for the past decade or so, and with society basically treating any single woman in her thirties like a cow put out to pasture, you have come to terms with the fact that you'll be a spinster. it's fine. you have a successful career in a male-dominated field, you're still as beautiful as ever, and it's not like romantic love is going to fill the void. you have a supportive family and even more supportive friends; you don't need anything else. at thirty-five years old, with a successful soccer career and a body still performing at peak physical fitness, noel noa is considered to be one of the most eligible bachelors in the world. the public considers him to be at his prime, even. and yet, he seems to want nothing to do with romance. he plays his sport, he does a damn good job of it, and then he goes back to his isolated home in the french countryside to spend his days and nights entirely and utterly alone. for two people content to spend the rest of their lives without a partner, the minute you walk into his life as the new assistant coach for bastard munchen, you both slowly start to realize that maybe, you both could just try being alone together.

exclusive sneak peek! he doesn’t pay you any attention whenever you enter the locker room; after all, this isn’t the first time one of his teammates’ girlfriends walked in here unannounced. he can only hope that your heated rant and accusations of cheating don’t take a long time because practice starts in ten minutes, and noel noa is known to be particularly anal when it comes to sticking to a strict schedule. “hey!” igor says, being the only one bold enough to block you from taking another step further in the locker room. “you can’t be in here, even if you are dating or related to one of the players.” “well, that’s certainly a respectable rule, but it doesn’t apply to me.” “i'm the vice captain of this team.” he replies, letting his title to do the rest of the talking. right now, in this room, he’s the authority, second only to noel. noel, who's too busy stretching his legs to really concern himself with something as silly as a female intruder in the men's locker room. the altercation between you two is nothing more than white noise to him. “oh? that’s nice.” you hum, before adjusting the lanyard around your neck so that the little ID card, the one that’s used to allow people entrance into the gym during practice, is showing. it must be brand new because it shines underneath the fluorescents of the locker room. “i’m your new assistant coach.” well, you’ve certainly got noel's attention now.

⋆⁺₊❅. all in starring rin itoshi synopsis even with worldwide fame, rin itoshi still prefers to be left alone. deemed the "prodigal recluse" by the media, no one knows what he gets up to during the offseason. the truth is, rin returns back to his hometown and spends his free time training by himself in the frozen field he used to train in during middle school. he's never been found out here, and that's how he likes it. until you, an ambitious sports journalist visiting your parents during the holidays, gets lost and stumbles upon him playing soccer by himself. you're convinced that this is fate. no one else in your field has ever gotten this close to him, especially outside an official game, and you're begging him for an exclusive interview. you're persistent and annoying, and rin finally agrees, with one catch: you have to score against him on a one-on-one soccer match. (he just doesn't anticipate how persistent and annoying you can be. when you set your mind on a goal, you're going all in.)

exclusive sneak peek! "you have to admit, it's pretty impressive i even kept up this long." you're panting, the palms of your hands digging into your knees as you hunch over, struggling to catch your breath. the icy air makes every exhale visible. rin looks like he hasn't even broken a sweat. "a child could've kept up for even longer." he says, the soccer ball resting underneath his right foot. "if you're this tired already, you might as well just head home and go enjoy your vacation with your family." the and leave me alone goes without saying. "why? intimidated by my shocking athletic abilities already?" you think you've finally got your breathing situation figured out, and you straighten up. "i'm going to get that interview, itoshi." "if you say so." he shoves his hands in his pockets, his own breath visible in the icy air. "i'm ready for our rematch." you tighten your ponytail, giving rin such a fixed, determined stare that it surprises him. you really are serious about this, aren't you? "and don't think about going easy on me." the corners of his mouth nearly turn upwards. he matches your gaze, preparing to shoot the ball. "i never will."

⋆⁺₊❅. meet your match starring oliver aiku synopsis tired of cleaning up his messes and struggling to reform his playboy image, oliver aiku's publicist has to break out the business card locked away in her "in case of emergency" glass case. she's calling in the calvary — you, the celebrity world's most respected matchmaker. every celebrity couple you've set up has either dated for years (and more to come) or even got their happily ever afters by saying i do at the altar. you've got a one hundred percent success rate. you're making the perfect matches left and right. hinge who? when your publicist bestie calls you, begging to help her most troublesome client finally find love and quit playing around, you already know who she's referring to. oliver aiku. he's hellbent on ruining your perfect run, and you're hellbent on finding him the love of his life so he can finally settle down and stop causing your best friend to spend her whole paycheck on migraine medicine. in his hyper-competitive field, he's never quite met someone as obnoxiously stubborn as you — nor has he ever had as much fun playing games with anyone else. it looks like the two of you have finally met your respective match.

exclusive sneak peek! "what the hell is the matter with you?" you glare at him from across the table, but oliver doesn't seem the least bit ashamed. you're not shocked; you don't think he has the capacity for shame. "what are you talking about?" he tries to sound innocent, but it doesn't work. look at him — there's nothing innocent about the man sitting across from you. "i'm talking about you bringing another woman to the date i set up for you!" you hiss, trying to remain calm and not draw attention to the two of you. he takes a long sip of his coffee, dragging out the silence as you wait for his explanation as to why he wants to make things as difficult as possible. "i was just testing her." oliver is smiling. you want to punch him in his stupid face and see if he'll still be grinning at you. probably. he's annoying like that. "during a situation like that, you can tell if the girl's gonna be a struggle to deal with depending on her reaction." "you know what my reaction would be if you did that to me?" you lean forward, and he meets you halfway, also leaning in closer. he's still smiling. you hate his stupid smile. "oh? what would your reaction be?" "nothing. you'd never even get the chance to pull that shit on me. as if i'd ever be dumb enough to go on a date with the likes of you." you lean back in your seat, opening up your phone and furiously marking off girls from your list. the list gets smaller after every one of his failed dates. oliver sits back, too, watching the way your brows furrow as you stare at your screen, not even giving him the time of day. he never stops smiling; finds it hard not to smile when he's in your presence.

:¨ ·.· ¨: `· . jujutsu kaisen films coming to a theater near you ౨ৎ

⋆⁺₊❅. the roadtrippers starring kento nanami synopsis you're traveling solo for the first time ever after your fiancé breaks things off with you to date his 19 year old neighbor. kento nanami's a single father/investment banker trying to make it back home in time for his daughter's birthday. you're both trying to travel across the country, but when a massive snowstorm delays the same flight you two were going to take home, you decide to team up and just travel together to try to make it your respective destinations on time. from weirdos on the train, flat tires on scarily cheap rental cars, and posing as a married couple at a strict, christian-owned bed&breakfast, you go from strangers traveling cross-country together to being connected together in ways neither of you have ever connected with your previous partners before.

exclusive sneak peek! "whoa, you're doing this like it's nothing." you stare in awe as nanami rolls up the sleeves to his button-down, exposing his strong forearms as he turns the wrench, loosening the lug nuts of the flat tire of the rental car. "that's because it is nothing." he tells you, glancing up at you. you're wrapped up in his blazer, but the chill of the outside air still bites at you. "you should go back inside the car and wait for me. i'll be done in a second." "it wouldn't be fair." you explain to him. "you've been doing all the work this entire trip. braving the elements with you for a few minutes is the least i can do." "you don't have to do anything." he looks up at you, his stare bringing heat back into your body. "you don't owe me. i really don't mind helping you. if you really want to do me a favor, then go back inside the car and stay warm."

⋆⁺₊❅. snowed in starring naoya zenin synopsis you've never had great luck, but with your good attitude, you don't let life get you down. good karma finally comes your way when you win an all-expenses paid trip at a luxury ski lodge. this is where your good luck ends. apparently, the ski lodge accidentally double-booked the cabin: you're supposed to be staying there... and so is the rudest, most arrogant and condescending lawyer you've ever met. naoya zenin booked this place to get away from the city and work in peace, away from the incessant nagging of his family and employees. instead, he's met with even more inconveniences, the biggest one being you, some teacher from a small town he's never heard of and couldn't care less about. before either of you can head back to the main lodge to complain, a snowstorm comes rolling in, effectively leaving the two of you snowed in together for the time being. no cell service, no internet, and no one but each other. fantastic.

exclusive sneak peek! "where are you going?" he asks, eyeing your towel and pajamas in your hand. "to go shower?" you point to the bathroom door. after claiming he wants nothing to do with you, and then setting a ground rule that you can't speak to him unless he allows it, you figured he'd just leave you to your own devices. "unless i need permission from you to do that, too." "i checked the water tank. there's barely anything, and even less hot water." "and this is my problem because...?" "i need to shower, too. i know women have a tendency to take hour-long hot showers, but that isn't going to work here." somehow, you find it hard to believe any woman would want to be close enough to naoya to where he can track their shower-time. "fine. i'll take a lukewarm shower for fifty-five minutes then." you reach for the bathroom door handle. "will that satisfy you?" he's up in a flash, his body so close to your own. you've got nowhere to go but to back up against the closed door, trying to get some space between the two of you. "you don't want to know what'll satisfy me."

:¨ ·.· ¨: `· . attack on titan films coming to a theater near you ౨ৎ

⋆⁺₊❅. falling onto you starring porco galliard synopsis when you’re forced to return to your hometown to take care of your grandmother after her hip surgery, you’re roped into volunteering for the town’s fire department charity event. paired with the constant scowling firefighter who rescued you from a tree back when you two were kids and classmates, you’re tasked with organizing the firefighter calendar auction. between awkward photo shoots, bickering over decorations, and trying to outbid a local rival for the best auction spot, you start to see that maybe porco galliard isn't all scowls and shambles arrogance — after all, he's there to catch you every time you fall.

exclusive sneak peek! "no." "it's for charity, galliard." you toss him the santa hat, not the least bit shocked that he manages to catch it without batting an eye. "you're like, morally obligated to do this. unless you want to ruin christmas. that's fine by me, too." "i won't be ruining christmas. you're just a pervert." you gasp. "i'm not the one who came up with these positions!" "you're still going to buy the calendar." he points out. "yeah, for charity! not to actually look at it!" "you sure about that? because you seem pretty damn persistent that i should take off my shirt and let you take pictures of me in nothing but suspenders, my work pants, and this ridiculous hat." "that's the most stereotypical firefighter photoshoot for a sexy christmas calendar!" he pauses. "you callin' me sexy?"

⋆⁺₊❅. the one starring colt grice synopsis colt grice has the worst luck known to man. when it comes to pay-it-forward chains, he always gets stuck in front of a minivan for a family of nine. naturally, the only people who crash into his car are the ones with no insurance. he felt bad for a coworker during a work potluck, stomached some of their disgusting food, only to end up getting food poisoning from it. the only thing colt ever seems to have good luck with is relationships... specifically, his good luck seems to transfer over to the girl he's currently dating. see, the thing is, every time colt gets dumped, his exes always end up finding the love of their lives. all his exes are happily married or in long-term relationships, with all of them finding their soulmates right after breaking up with him. he thinks no one else in the world has luck as terrible as his, but then he meets you. after a conversation exchange during a long line, you reveal that it seems like every ex you have has found their soulmate directly after breaking up with you! which is when you two hatch a plan: in order to help each other find "the one", you both agree to date each other for a period of time and then dump each other, all in the hopes of finally meeting your soulmate.

exclusive sneak peek! "your soulmate is super lucky, by the way." "what makes you say that?" colt turns to his side so he can look at you. you're still laying on your back, gazing up at the stars above. "just... i can't imagine why anyone would want to break up with you. you're honestly the best boyfriend i've ever had." colt's heart jumps at your words. he's glad it's so dark outside; otherwise, you might see the blush creeping on his cheeks. you continue on. "i'm going to be really sad when we have to breakup." he knows it's not in the agreement, but he can't help it. he thinks, then let's not. instead, he swallows hard and makes a half-hearted joke. "don't worry. you'll meet your soulmate soon, all thanks to me." you laugh, but you don't tell him how you're really hoping that he's the one for you.

⋆⁺₊❅. girls just wanna have fun! starring levi ackerman synopsis you're the prime minister's daughter wanting to get the proper college experience during your very last year of university. he's your marginally older, no-nonsense, militant bodyguard. you're determined to check things off your college girl bucket list (skip lecture, eat questionable dining hall food, go to a frat party), and he's determined to keep you safe.

exclusive sneak peek! you’ve been meticulously planning this all week. the perfect outfit is tucked under your oversized hoodie, and you’ve even plotted out the quietest route to avoid any of the creaky floorboards in your family’s massive home. all that’s left is to slip past levi, who seems to have an annoying sixth sense for every bad decision you attempt to make. sliding your shoes on, you tiptoe toward the front door, holding your breath as you slowly twist the handle. almost there. just a few more seconds, and— “you have exactly five seconds to explain what the hell you’re doing.” the deep, authoritative voice freezes you in place. slowly, you turn to find levi standing in the shadows, his arms crossed, one eyebrow raised in disapproval. the flat line of his mouth isn't forming a frown or a scowl, but the disappointment is evident. “levi,” you start innocently, trying to cover your tracks. “i was just—” “if you're just going to lie, don't bother saying anything.” he interrupts, stepping into the light. his eyes flick to your shoes and back to your guilty expression. “where are you really going?” you sigh, crossing your arms defensively. “it’s just a party, okay? everyone’s going, and i’m not some teenager who needs her parent's permission to go out at night.” “you might not need your father's permission,” he says, his voice low and deliberate, “but you do need my protection. and if you think i'm letting you sneak off to some frat house full of drunk idiots without so much as telling me, then you’re dumber than i thought.” you glare at him, your frustration bubbling over. “you’re not my dad! i can take care of myself.” he leans against the doorframe, unflinching. “if you could take care of yourself, you wouldn’t have tried sneaking out like a common criminal." “ugh,” you groan, childishly stomping your foot. “why do you always have to ruin everything?” “why do you always have to make my job harder?” he counters, his tone sharp but his eyes softening just slightly. for a moment, the two of you just stare at each other. then levi exhales, rubbing his temples as if you’ve given him the worst headache of his life. “here’s the deal,” he finally says. “you stay home tonight, and i’ll consider letting you go to the next party — with me shadowing you the whole time.” your jaw drops. “you can’t be serious.” “correct. i never plan on letting you go to one of those idiotic parties.” he says. “now go change out of that ridiculous outfit you're wearing under your sweatshirt, and get some sleep. you've got class at eight.”

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fushiguro-megloomy · 2 months ago

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request: [modern au] headcannons for childhood friends to lovers pairing: viktor x gn!reader tags: nothing bad, very sfw, fluffy notes: ill be so for real with you i feel like i'm very weak at doing headcannons ;-; but i tried. i hope this is what you were looking for anon <3 divider from enchanthings-a

You’d known Viktor for as long as you could remember, his house across the street from yours. As a curious kid, you’d often linger while he tinkered with small projects, asking questions. Your friendship really solidified one summer when your bike broke, and Viktor fixed it with surprising enthusiasm. To repay him, you let him ride on the handlebars while you scooted him around the neighborhood.

He's absolutely critiquing your work before the teachers even get their hands on it. Sitting beside you at your desk clump, thick eyebrows pulled together and scribbling little “???” or just straight up “no” in the margins of your handwriting. You always glare at him but you're secretly grateful.

He's observant, if you were hungry or tired he would wordlessly slide snacks onto your desk. He's not the best with social queues, but he knows when you're upset and he'll hover around you awkwardly until he blurts some random fact or sarcastic comment meant to distract you.

He's easily jealous, but in the way that he gets pouty, throwing himself into projects and denying anything is even wrong.

Definitely getting into squabbles all the time bickering like an old married couple

He's always gave you something handmade for your birthday. You still have it all. He's not big on his own birthdays but you always bring him a homemade cupcake.

This is not an original thought but he's definitely a gossip, ESPECIALLY as you grow into teen-hood. Not outwardly, but still he would unleash all his unfiltered opinions onto you, and his face definitely gives him away when he's silently judging someone. Mans got a wicked side eye.

Viktor had taken over his parents’ garage as his workshop, and it quickly became your second home. Most of your free time was spent perched on a stool, watching him work or pestering him with questions. You fell asleep there so often that he eventually squeezed a secondhand couch into the tiny space, insisting you needed somewhere more comfortable to crash.

You're each other's first kiss, but it doesn't happen until senior year. You're in his garage, complaining about never having kissed someone and he's like alright so let's kiss??? Things spiral from there.

“I mean, what kind of tragic story is that?” you grumble, tossing a pillow at him. “Eighteen and never kissed anyone. I’ll be the cautionary tale for future students.” Viktor chuckles softly but doesn’t look up from his work. “I don’t see what the rush is. It’s not as if it matters.” “It matters to me,” you insist, sitting up. “Don’t you want to at least know what it’s like?” He stared at you for a moment, then let out a sigh, setting his tools aside. “Alright, then.” You blinked at him, confused. “Alright what?” He stepped closer, hands slipping into his pockets as he looked down at you. “Let’s kiss.” Your heart skipped a beat. “What?!” “You’re complaining about it, so, we kiss, you stop worrying about it, and we both move on. Simple.” His voice was steady, but the faint pink rising to his cheeks betrayed him. “You’re serious?” you asked, sitting up straighter. “Unless you’re too scared.” That did it. “I’m not scared,” you snapped, standing to face him. “Good,” he murmured, leaning in just enough for you to feel his breath against your lips. “Then stop talking.” Before you could come up with a retort, his lips pressed against yours, soft and careful. It was brief but left you reeling, your heart pounding as he pulled back. “Well?” he asked, tilting his head. “That should suffice, no?” You stared at him, dumbfounded, before bursting into laughter. “Yeah… yeah, I guess it’ll do.” He smirked, turning back to his workbench, though the tips of his ears were unmistakably red. “You’re welcome.” It was just a kiss, you told yourself. But as you sat back down, touching your lips absentmindedly, you couldn’t help but wonder why your heart was still racing.

©lilsworks 2024

#viktor x reader #viktor headcannons #reader x viktor #arcane x you #viktor x you #friends to lovers #viktor arcane #viktor #arcane #arcane viktor

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cxrdycxps · 6 months ago

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And They Were Room Mates • Abby Anderson

☢️ Owen and Mel bashing • pwp basically • reader really enjoys giving Abby head • pussy worship babyyyy • swearing • talking about masturbation ☢️

Main Masterlist • Abby Anderson Masterlist

Your bedroom door opened and Abby slammed it shut behind her, stalking forward to collapse on your bed. You pushed your headphones off and put the lid back on your highlighter. “Hi Abby, how are you? Would you like to come into my room, Abby? Make yourself comfortable.”

Abby grabbed your soft pillow and shoved her face into it and screamed. You stared at her in horror when she took a deep breath and screamed again. “Should I call a priest? Do we need an excorcist?”

“You need to stop humping your fucking pillows. I can smell your cunt on this one.” You stared at Abby when she tossed your pillow away and turned over to stare at your ceiling.

“Firstly, it’s my pillow. I’ll do what I want with it. Secondly, how the fuck do you know what any part of me smells like?” You snapped at her, mortified by her comments. “Get the fuck out and scream into your own pillows.”

“Mel is pregnant.” You stared at her, still off balance from her earlier comments. You weren’t sure why her best friend being pregnant was such a scream worthy event. Or why it resulted in her coming in to bully you in your own room. “It’s Owen’s.”

“Oh fuck.” You couldn’t stop yourself. You covered your mouth once the words were out but Abby was already staring at you, nodding her head.

“Yeah. He fucked her on our three day break.” Abby laughed bitterly and you stood from your desk to sit on the edge of the bed, taking one of her large hands in yours to console her. “Well, he fucked her for our three day break. Then decided he missed me.”

“To be fair, Mel’s a whiny bitch. I wouldn’t have chosen her over you either.” You told her honestly and she rolled her eyes at you. “And it may be personal opinion but you are hotter than her.”

You lived with Abby in shared accommodation just off campus. She had lived here with her friend Manny last year but he had graduated so she had posted the listing. You had been desperate to escape on campus accommodation and jumped at the chance to live in an apartment with your own bedroom and bathroom.

Neither of you crossed paths often, usually coming and going at complete opposite times. She woke early to go to the gym, you worked late at a bar down town. You both had classes all day and she spent a lot of time in Owen’s apartment.

You had moments like this. Pockets of overlap where you found time to get to know each other. You had met her friend group in passing, she had met yours. You had met Owen, she had accidentally met one or two of the girls you had hooked up with in the past while they left the next morning.

You had accidentally propositioned her while drunk once. It was a long running joke at this point.

“You only want me for my body.” Abby sighed and you shrugged, laying back beside her so you were both staring at the ceiling. “My best fucking friend.”

“You should probably get a new one of those. I’ll be your best friend. I’m pretty cool.” You assured her, nudging her shoulder with yours. “I can be your best fucking friend, too. You just have to take me up on my offer.”

“What do you- oh. Best fucking friend. I get it. Smart.” She huffed a dry laugh while you giggled at yourself. “They barely ever even talked!”

“Maybe for good reason?” You asked and she turned so she was looking at you. You copied her and your faces were only a couple of inches apart. “Maybe he wanted to dick her down since day one.”

“You’re not helping.” Abby turned back to stare at the ceiling and you shrugged.

“If I’m being honest, I get why you’re mad or whatever. I just think it’s a waste of your energy. Mel has the personality of the contents of the bottom of the sink after the dishes have been done. Owen micromanaged you and you let him. What are you actually loosing?” Abby probably didn’t want you to be honest but you didn’t typically have another session. “The sex didn’t even sound good.”

“Better than your pillow.” Abby quipped back and you laughed.

“My pillow made me cum every time. Can you say the same for Owen?” You asked her and she grunted in answer which made you laugh, the bed shaking with your movements. “What were you actually getting out of the relationship?”

“He was there for me. When my dad died.” Abby told you and you sighed heavily, clasping her hand in yours. “He got me through that.”

“So he’s not a complete waste of space. People outgrow each other, Abs.” You told her quietly. “You outgrew him a long time ago.”

“I’ve been with him since I was fourteen. How do I let go of seven years?” She asked with a sigh and you shrugged. In truth, you had no clue.

“Go out and fuck someone else. Get a new hobby? Maybe egg his house. Or her house. Or just egg something.” Abby laughed wetly. You didn’t look at her, not closely. She needed a moment so you let her have it. “You can borrow my pillow?”

///

“Got someone looking for you out front.” You were stood in the kitchen, attempting to eat quickly while chatting to the grouchy head chef. Joel didn’t really say much but you knew he had a soft spot for you. He had even tried to set you up with his daughter once. He always made sure to set something aside for you to eat.

“Tell ‘em to fuck off.” You snapped and Joel coughed to disguise his laugh. Dina, Joel’s daughter’s current girlfriend, threw her hands up.

“Do I look like a fucking messenger girl? Get back out on the bar anyway, Jesse is drowning out there.” Jesse, Dina’s ex boyfriend, worked the bar with you most nights. He was a shit bartended though and you ended up doing double the work.

“You ever think about how incestuous this restaurant staff is?” You asked Joel, shoving the last few fries into your mouth. Tess, the line cook, laughed at you and you narrowed your eyes at her. “I know you two have been fucking in the store room.”

Joel barked your name when Tess ducked her head and you skipped out of the kitchen, returning to the bar to find it was three deep. You sighed, tying your apron and pasting on a smile.

“You should fucking quit.” You elbowed Jesse who only shrugged at you, pouring drinks. You waved at people to start shouting orders at you, checking ID along with starting tabs.

By the time the rush had moved off you found your caller sitting at the end of the bar. Abby was nursing a beer, two shots of tequila next to her with all the fixings.

“What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” You asked her with a grin. She looked up from her phone and blinked at you before gesturing to the shots. “For me?”

“It’s sad doing them alone and I need some courage.” She told you honestly and you tilted your head. “Time to get back out there, right?”

It had been two months since she came to your room to scream and you had been worried about how well she was handling everything. This was a good sign.

You licked the back of your hand and sprinkled the salt over the wet patch. Abby copied you and you held up your shot to her. “To you getting your pussy ate.”

She didn’t repeat the cheers, rolling her eyes. She did drink though and you took that as a good sign while sucking on the wedge of lime. You looked up when your name was called and found Maria, the manager on tonight, glaring at you. “She bought it for me. It’s good customer service, Maria.”

“Get back to work.” You gestured around to remind her that you were in fact behind the bar, no current customers in sight. She narrowed her eyes at you and moved off to complain about you to the servers. Dina would agree cause she didn’t like that you had fucked Ellie, Joel’s daughter, before she had. She also was Maria’s favorite because she was Ellie’s aunt.

The whole system made your head hurt and you swigged from Abby’s beer to chase the flavor of the tequila on your tongue. “Don’t fucking backwash.”

“Come on, Abby. Admit it, you wanna swap bodily fluids with me.” You leaned forward on the bar and her eyes dipped to look down your blouse. You always left it one button too low to increase tips. “Abby Anderson, are you looking at my tits?”

“You know I am. Hard not to when they’re as good as in my face.” Abby sighed and you grinned, delighted with her honesty. “Don’t worry, I’ll tip well.”

“You know what, Anderson?” You asked her. You looked up when a customer shouted an order at you and you took the lid off the beer sliding it over to him. “If you strike out tonight, I’ll eat your pussy myself.”

You left Abby to consider your words when the next wave began and you dove into the fray to serve them. When you looked back she was gone, a signed receipt and a tip tucked under her beer mat. You laughed and cleared her bottle and pocketed the tip.

///

When you got back to the apartment you were surprised to find Abby still up, sitting on the sofa. With the television playing. You kicked off your shoes and swung by the kitchen, grabbing yourself and her a beer.

“You cleared out early.” You remarked, tossing yourself down next to her on the cushions. You held both beers out and scrunched your eyes shut when she opened them with her teeth. “Strike out?”

“Got a better offer.” She answered and you let your head fall to the side so you could look at her. “Why would I hang around when you already made me a promise?”

“What promise was that, Abby?” You asked her with a sly smile. Abby rarely swore unless she was really worked up and you wanted to set her on edge.

“You know what you promised.” Abby huffed, cheeks pink. You stared at her and brought your bottle up to your lips, taking a long drink. You didn’t speak and she began to fidget. “If you weren’t serious then-”

“Abby, I’ve wanted a taste of you since like thirty seconds after signing the lease.” You laughed and she turned a darker red in her cheeks. The color was creeping down towards her neck. “I’ve literally dreamed about having your thighs either side of my head.”

“You’re such a fucking-” Abby shook her head but you only grinned at her frustration. She hadn’t been with women before, you knew that much. She had realized she was interested in them when she started college but she had loved Owen.

You rolled your eyes and handed her your bottle. You stretched your arms up in the air and shook off the exhaustion of your late shift before standing and moving kneel between Abby’s spread legs. “Time to let me see what’s under these cargos and by the way, if it looks like I’m suffocating? Leave me there. Death by your pussy is such a good way to go.”

Abby was laughing now, too used to your humor to be embarrassed anymore. You helped unbutton her trousers and pull them down. You paused and swallowed, wondering why the simple boxers under her cargos made your own pussy pulse in arousal. Why did her thick thighs look so much hotter than any other woman you had ever been with?

“Later, once you recover from the orgasm I’m about to give you, I’m riding your thigh. I don’t even care if this is a one time thing. I need to experience that.” You babbled, pulling on the hem of her boxer shorts and finally exposing her to you.

“Oh fuck.” You breathed, closing your eyes for a moment. Abby Anderson ticked all your boxes but right now it was like she had read every deep thought you’d ever had. You were the first to advocate for people grooming themselves however they deemed fit but the patch of coarse curls that you had just uncovered made you groan.

Abby had a fat cunt, something you could bury your face in. You spread her thighs with your palms and leaned forward, licking up her slit to find her clit. It was swollen with arousal but when you pulled back you could see the raw abuse on it. “You’ve been playing with yourself.”

Abby groaned, her head back against the couch. Some of her embarrassment was returning as she arched her hips upwards to you. “Tell me you were playing with your clit while thinking of me.”

“Obviously,” Abby grunted and you rewarded her with a firm suck to the sensitive bundle of nerve endings. She moaned and you were proud to note you’d never heard that noise coming from her room when her and Owen had fucked. Quiet as they had tried to be. “Had to take the edge off after watching you in the bar. You’re so fucking competent, bouncing around with your tits out.”

You didn’t speak, choosing instead to spit against her clit and listened to her moans to let you know what she enjoyed. You pulled her thighs and she shuffled out to the edge of the sofa, her fingers grasping at your hair.

It was when you were licking into her, your nose against her clit, that the door opened. The pair of you froze, directly in the sight line of Owen who stood at the door. “Abby, what the fuck?”

It seemed like a private conversation so you looked away, nudging your nose against her clit again. She moaned, her head back against the sofa. “Leave the key.”

You hummed against her hole and her fingers tightened against you. Owen tossed the keys on the entry way table and retreated. You pulled away to call out to him. “If you wait a minute or so you can hear what it sounds like when Abby actually cums.” He slammed the door and Abby’s hoarse laugh was cut off when you returned your attention to her clit.

You used your tongue to push back the clitoral hood and pay special attention to the most sensitive part of her. The almost red skin contracted when you licked at it firmly and Abby lost all pretenses, an actual scream falling from her mouth when she came.

You kind of hoped he was still listening.

#the last of us #tlou #abby anderson #abby anderson rec #abby anderson x you #abby anderson smut #abby anderson tlou #abby anderson x reader #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x reader #abby x fem!reader

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foreveia · 9 days ago

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take two ⤨ iwaizumi hajime

⨭ genre; fluff, idiots to lovers but like they're actually so dumb

⨭ pairing; iwaizumi x fem!reader

⨭ word count; 5.7k

⨭ descriptions; your boss has been trying to set you up with her son for months, but as it turns out at the holiday party... you've already met him before.

⨭ warnings; explicit language and dialogue, no graphic content tho, alcohol

⨭ a/n; fun little short fic to fill the fix to publish something lolol enjoy this iwa love dump as i work on my next long fic (tell me in the comments if y'all like these better)

one.

There are exactly three things you know to be true about Iwaizumi Emi:

She is the best divorce attorney in Tohoku, possibly the country.

She is the kind of woman who could negotiate her way out of murder charges and secure the victim’s house in the settlement.

She is, without a doubt, trying to set you up with her son.

You respect her. You admire her. You are, on occasion, lowkey terrified of her.

Which is why you’re currently sitting at your desk, nodding at all the appropriate intervals while she breezes through yet another pitch about why her son and you are, in her professional opinion, a perfect match.

“He’s back from Irvine for the summer,” she says, skimming a property settlement document like it personally offended her. She tosses it onto your pile nonchalantly, and you let out a short sigh because it’s just more backend filing to do and, despite your adoration for your career path and real passion towards legal work, entry jobs in the firm are mostly busy work. “I really think you’ll like him. He’s—”

You tune out. Not in an obvious way, of course—no, you’re a professional. You sprinkle in the occasional mmhmm and sounds great so she doesn’t catch on, but this isn’t your first rodeo. You’ve heard this pitch before—multiple times. Hajime is intelligent, responsible, not an idiot like some of these men out here, blah blah blah.

It’s not that you have anything against him, really. It’s just that you’ve spent months perfecting the art of dodging your boss’s matchmaking attempts, and frankly, you don’t have the energy to entertain her latest scheme.

“You’re finally going to meet him at the firm’s ball this weekend,” Emi continues, finally looking up from her paperwork, her smile entirely too satisfied.

You blink. “Oh.”

“He’s excited to meet you too.”

Now that is new. Usually, these monologues are strictly one-sided—I told him about you! and You two will get along so well! But he’s excited to meet you too? That’s an escalation. That’s a game-changer. That means he knows about you. He has an opinion about you.

You resist the urge to groan. Instead, you summon a polite, professional smile—the same one you use when dealing with particularly insufferable clients. “Looking forward to it,” you say, because what else are you supposed to say to the woman who could single-handedly end your career if she wanted to?

In reality, the only thing you’re looking forward to about the ball is the open bar. Being in your early twenties means being woefully broke, and you’d be lying if you said the thought of unlimited free alcohol wasn’t a strong motivator.

So, you strike a deal with yourself: you’ll put on a fancy dress, endure painful heels, and let Emi parade you in front of her son like a prize show poodle—all in exchange for an endless supply of pinot noir, cocktail shrimp, and, if you play your cards right, an entire bottle of champagne to sneak home in your purse.

It’s a sacrifice you’re willing to make.

two.

Because you’re an adult with an absolutely thriving social life (read: you have two friends who are willing to tolerate your bullshit after 6 PM), you, Yachi, and Kiyoko are now seated at your favorite little izakaya, wedged into a corner booth with plates of karaage and a pitcher of beer between you.

Kiyoko is talking about wedding venues. Because she’s engaged. To Tanaka. Which is objectively insane because in your head, they’re still in that “grossly obsessed with each other but pretending they’re just friends” phase, even though they’ve been together for years. The whole thing is a crime against single people everywhere, but you are supportive because your already jaw-dropping friend is somehow glowing even brighter now that she has a fat rock on her ring finger. She looks lighter, happier. She deserves it.

Yachi, meanwhile, is explaining—between delicate sips of her beer—that she’s too swamped with work to even think about dating. Which, yeah. Fair. The woman works harder than most people you know, so you respect it.

Then, as the conversation naturally shifts to your love life (as it always does, because you’re the group’s designated mess), you sigh, sinking into your seat dramatically.

“I haven’t had sex in months.”

There’s a beat of silence before Kiyoko and Yachi both roll their eyes in unison, like they rehearsed it.

“Oh my God,” Yachi mutters.

“You cannot still be caught up on GDD,” Kiyoko says flatly, pouring herself another drink.

“Okay, first of all,” you say, holding up a finger, “it is not about him. It’s just a general fact about my current state of being.”

“Uh-huh,” Kiyoko hums, entirely unconvinced.

“Second of all,” you continue, undeterred, “GDD was life-changing, and I feel like I should be allowed to mourn the lack of that level of—of excellence in my life.”

“Life-changing,” Yachi repeats, deadpan. “You hooked up with him once.”

“Yeah, and my life was changed.”

GDD—Good Dick Dude, as he has been dubbed by your dear, unsupportive friends—was a guy you hooked up with in January after a truly legendary New Year’s Eve party.

The night itself had been pure chaos. Hinata had somehow scored an invite to this insane rooftop party—one of those bougie, exclusive, if-you-know-you-know events where you absolutely do not belong but somehow manage to fake it enough to get through the door. He’d gotten a few plus-ones, which is how you ended up there, sipping champagne you definitely couldn’t afford and making out with a guy who, to this day, remains one of the most mind-blowing hookups of your entire life.

Gorgeous, buff, and dangerous with his hands. The kind of guy who knew exactly what he was doing, which, honestly? A rarity these days. You barely remember his name—something short, easy to moan—but you do remember his stupidly perfect smirk and the way he all but ruined you against the nearest flat surface.

But then the party ended, the night faded into a haze, and you never saw him again.

Which is fine. It’s fine. Really.

You’re definitely not still thinking about it.

Kiyoko takes a sip of her beer, unimpressed. “You’ve been on, what? Five Hinge dates since then? Six?”

“Seven,” Yachi corrects.

You point at her. “Exactly.”

Kiyoko gives you a long, slow blink.

“I mean that as proof that I am not hung up on him!” you clarify. “I’ve been trying, okay? But the bar is in hell. Do you know how many ‘we should get drinks’ texts I get from guys who put crypto investor in their bios?”

Kiyoko sighs. “Okay, but let’s be real—are you actually giving any of these guys a chance?”

You open your mouth. Close it. Frown. “I mean… like… conceptually?”

“Right.”

Yachi, forever gentle but devastatingly perceptive, tilts her head at you. “Is it possible,” she says carefully, “that maybe none of these guys are measuring up because you’re subconsciously comparing them to him?”

You scoff. “That’s ridiculous.”

Is it ridiculous?

Because, okay, maybe—just maybe—no one has quite lived up to that night. And maybe you’re being a little unfair to the dating pool by expecting every single guy to have that same kind of chemistry with you. And maybe you do occasionally find yourself staring at random ceilings, wondering where GDD is now and if he even remembers you.

But still. That doesn’t mean anything.

You’re pretty sure.

“I hate you guys,” you grumble, stabbing aggressively at a piece of karaage.

Yachi pats your hand sympathetically. “We know.”

Kiyoko, ever the queen of smooth topic transitions, nudges the conversation in a new direction. “Speaking of your questionable taste in men, your boss is still trying to set you up with her son, correct?”

You groan, letting your head fall back against the booth. “Unfortunately, yes. And now, apparently, he’s excited to meet me.”

Yachi perks up. “Wait, so you are meeting him?”

“At the firm’s ball this weekend,” you say, waving a hand. “It’s fine. I’ll get a little wine drunk, take advantage of the seafood bar.”

Kiyoko raises an eyebrow. “So, you’re not going to entertain the idea of this Hajime guy at all?”

You scoff. “Absolutely not.”

Yachi hums, tilting her head in that way she does when she’s about to say something devastatingly reasonable. “I mean… what if Emi’s right?”

You blink. “What?”

“What if this is it?” she says, half-teasing, half-genuinely curious. “Like, what if you meet him and he’s actually your soulmate? Imagine if this whole time, your boss has been playing the long game, orchestrating your love story like some kind of corporate fairy godmother.”

You snort. Loudly. “Right. Because that’s totally my luck.”

Kiyoko and Yachi exchange a knowing look, but they let it go.

You take another sip of your beer, shaking your head. Hajime Iwaizumi—whoever he is—is not the love of your life.

That would be insane.

three.

You had to pull out your graduate school formal gown from the back of your closet for this, but wow, you really forgot just how good you look in red.

Your day-to-day work attire consists of pantsuits and button-ups, neatly tucked into cautiously ironed trousers, so you’ve honestly forgotten how nice it is to get dressed up once in a while. There’s something about slipping into a gown that fits like a dream, sweeping your hair up just right, and swiping on that perfect shade of lipstick that makes you feel invincible. Like you could negotiate a million-dollar deal, steal the firm’s best clients, and seduce someone’s husband all in the same breath.

Not that you would, obviously.

Probably.

The venue is ridiculous in the way all law firm events are ridiculous—held in a ballroom large enough to house a small country, chandeliers dripping in gold, servers weaving through the crowd with trays of champagne and fancy bruschetta topped with fucking caviar of all things. All this just to celebrate another year of making money off people’s divorces. Incredible the way capitalism works.

You’ve barely made it through your first glass of wine before Emi finds you.

“There she is,” she croons, linking her arm through yours. She looks positively radiant in an emerald gown, diamonds at her ears, and the kind of effortless elegance that comes from winning. You’d respect it more if she weren’t actively dragging you toward your inevitable doom. “Come on, sweetheart. Hajime’s here, and I cannot wait for you two to finally meet.”

You bite back a sigh, because of course. No warm-up period, no buffer—just straight to the matchmaking. “Can’t I get a few more drinks in me first?”

She waves a hand, utterly dismissing your complaints. “You’ll like him. I know you will.”

You doubt it. But you let her lead you anyway, mostly because you know resisting is pointless: your boss has the world’s most spell-blinding smile and enough charm to always get her way. Emi always wins.

She stops near the bar, where a man stands with his back to you, broad shoulders wrapped in a sharp black suit, one hand resting on the counter as he talks with someone just out of view.

Emi squeezes your hand. “Hajime,” she calls, her voice warm.

The man turns.

And every thought in your head immediately ceases to exist.

Because standing before you, looking unfairly good in a tailored suit and sipping from a glass of whiskey like he isn’t single-handedly ruining your life, is GDD.

Good Dick Dude.

Hajime Iwaizumi is Good Dick Dude.

Your brain short-circuits. This is not happening. This is some kind of fever dream, a cruel trick played by the universe to punish you for your sins.

Hajime’s sharp green eyes land on you, recognition flickering behind them, and then—oh no.

He smirks. Like he knows exactly what’s running through your mind right now. Like he remembers everything.

Emi, completely unaware of your crisis, beams. “Hajime, this is the associate I’ve been telling you about.”

His mischievous, more than just amused smile widens. “Oh, I know who she is.”

Your soul leaves your body.

Because that voice? That voice is the same one that had whispered filth against your neck four months ago. The same voice that had laughed when you moaned his name. The same voice that had ruined you in ways you still haven’t fully recovered from.

You are going to die. Right here, right now, in the middle of this godforsaken gala.

“Hajime Iwaizumi,” he says smoothly, offering a hand. His palm is rough when you take it—calloused, strong, a stark reminder of exactly where those hands have been. His grip is firm, steady, and entirely too knowing.

You swallow, pasting on the best Oh wow, I am totally not spiraling internally smile you can manage. “Yeah,” you say weakly. “We’ve met.”

“Oh!” Emi beams, clasping her hands together like she’s just delighted by this new revelation. “That’s wonderful! I knew you two would get along.”

You let out a sound that’s somewhere between a laugh and a strangled choke. Hajime is still watching you, head tilted slightly, like he’s enjoying this: like he can see the exact moment you realize how deeply, horrifically screwed you are. Because there is no way Emi knows. She’s too composed, too pleased. If she had any inkling that her son and her associate had met four months ago in a completely inappropriate context, she’d have you both buried in litigation faster than you could say conflict of interest.

Which means Hajime is choosing to be a menace.

God, you’re going to kill him.

“Hajime just got back from Irvine a few days ago, for the start of his summer break,” Emi continues, completely oblivious to the absolute war waging behind your polite smile. “I’ve been telling him all about you, of course.”

You almost choke on your drink. “You have?”

“Of course I have!” Emi nods enthusiastically. “She’s one of the brightest associates we have, Hajime. Sharp, diligent, absolutely ruthless in negotiations—she reminds me of myself when I was her age.”

Your lips twitch. You do enjoy being compared to the most terrifying woman you’ve ever met, so it’s really too bad that this entire situation has you currently dying inside.

Hajime hums, eyes still locked on you. “Yeah,” he says, voice dipping just slightly. “She’s definitely memorable.”

Your entire body lights on fire.

Memorable.

Oh, he’s being insufferable on purpose.

Emi sighs happily, taking a sip of her champagne. “I knew you two would hit it off.”

You want to scream. You want to throw your drink in Hajime’s face. You want to rewind time and never step foot into that rooftop party.

Instead, you just smile tightly. “Mm-hmm.”

Hajime grins at your suffering. “So,” he says, tilting his glass in your direction, “how have you been?”

You resist the urge to kick him in the shins. “Busy,” you say, voice clipped. “Working.”

“Ah,” he says, nodding thoughtfully. “Yeah, that does sound like you.”

You stiffen. Hajime, you realize, is having the time of his life watching you squirm. And it’s only going to get worse.

Because Emi suddenly claps her hands together, eyes bright with mischief. “Oh! I should leave you two to chat,” she says. “Get to know each other properly.”

Oh. Oh no. Emi. Emi, please.

But before you can protest, she winks at you—winks, like she’s a fairy godmother orchestrating the perfect romance—and disappears back into the crowd.

And just like that, you are alone with him.

Hajime watches you over the rim of his glass, eyes gleaming with amusement. “So,” he says, smirking, “I see you haven’t forgotten me.”

Your jaw clenches. “You smug little—”

“You look good,” he interrupts smoothly, scanning you from head to toe. His gaze lingers, appreciative but blatantly teasing. “Red suits you.”

God, you want to strangle him. You cross your arms, willing yourself to stay calm. “You knew this whole time, didn’t you?”

He chuckles. “I had a feeling.”

“A feeling?”

He tilts his head, as if contemplating. “Well,” he says, “it wasn’t confirmed until I saw you.”

You glare. “You could’ve warned me.”

“And miss that reaction?” He grins. “Not a chance.”

You hate him. You hate that he looks so effortlessly good in a suit. You hate that his voice is still just as devastating as you remember. You hate that even now, months later, you can still feel the phantom weight of his hands on your hips, the rough scrape of his callouses against your skin, the way he had murmured just like that, baby against your ear—

You inhale sharply. Nope. Absolutely not. We are not thinking about that right now.

Hajime, unfortunately, definitely knows what you’re thinking about. His smirk is downright criminal. “So,” he says, leaning in slightly, voice low, “been a while, hasn’t it?”

You refuse to give him the satisfaction of blushing. “Oh, shut up.”

He laughs, warm and amused, and you are horribly aware that this night is only just beginning.

four.

Hajime happens to actually be a pretty intelligent and funny person, which is making it much, much harder to dodge his attempts at flirting and his mother’s attempts at forced-proximity matchmaking.

It was supposed to be easy. You were supposed to sip your wine, endure some polite small talk, and then fade into the crowd before Emi could corner you into any serious you’d make such a beautiful couple talk. But instead, you’re somehow still here, talking to him, because Hajime Iwaizumi is annoyingly easy to talk to.

Which is not fair. It’s not fair at all, actually.

He makes it look effortless, like this isn’t completely unhinged, like it’s not absolutely deranged that your boss has spent months trying to set you up with a man who has already—

You take a sip of your wine. You are not going to finish that thought.

Hajime watches you over the rim of his whiskey glass, looking entirely too entertained by this whole situation. “You seem tense.”

“Gee, I wonder why.”

His mouth twitches, but he doesn’t argue. “Hey, could be worse,” he says. “At least my mom has good taste.”

You choke on your sip, feeling the bubbles tingle in your nose and really regretting every life decision you’ve made in the last six months. “Oh, my God.”

He laughs, tilting his glass in a mock toast.

You squint at him, wary and slightly annoyed, unable to fathom how he’s not also dying at this situation. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

“I mean…” He shrugs, all easy amusement. “I’m just saying—this could be a lot worse. Imagine if she was trying to set you up with someone actually terrible.”

“I don’t know,” you mutter, swirling your wine. “You’re already pretty high on my list of worst-case scenarios.”

“See, now that hurts.”

You roll your eyes. “You’ll live.”

Before Hajime can respond—before you can regain any sense of control over this conversation—Emi appears out of nowhere, her eyes shining.

“There you two are!” she says, absolutely beaming. “It’s time for the first dance!”

You freeze.

Hajime—the absolute traitor—just raises an eyebrow. “First dance?”

“Yes! It’s tradition,” Emi says, already ushering you toward the ballroom floor. “Senior partners and their dates open the dance floor—it’s been that way for years.”

You dig your heels into the floor. “But I’m not—”

“Now, sweetheart,” Emi interrupts, entirely ignoring your panic, “you wouldn’t want to break tradition, would you?”

You stare at her, betrayed.

She smiles.

Oh, she planned this.

Hajime, standing beside you, lets out a quiet, amused sigh before draining the last of his whiskey. “Well,” he says, offering you a hand, “guess we should give the people what they want.”

You glare at him. “I hate you.”

“Uh-huh,” he says. “That’s why you’re still holding my hand.”

You drop it immediately.

Unfortunately, that doesn’t stop him from leading you on to the dance floor. His hand slides around your waist, pulling you gently to the center of the ballroom; you’re struggling to ignore the far too many pairs of eyes on you two as he rearranges your arms around his neck.

And—oh, hell.

You forgot how solid he is.

His grip is firm but steady, his palm warm where it rests against your back. He moves easily, like this isn’t completely ridiculous, like your brain isn’t currently melting out of your ears.

“Relax,” Hajime murmurs.

You scowl. “I am relaxed.”

His lips twitch. “Yeah, totally.”

You hate him. You hate the way he’s looking at you—amused, interested, entirely too smug for someone who has already ruined your life once.

He leads you into a slow, easy step, and goddamn it, of course he’s good at this, too. His movements are effortless, confident. He keeps the rhythm perfectly, and you hate that you match him so well.

He tilts his head, watching you. “You’re thinking really hard about something.”

“No, I’m not.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Right. So you’re definitely not thinking about how good I am at this.”

You promptly step on his foot. He laughs, and it ignites your hatefire even more.

“Asshole,” you mutter.

“I was going to say you look good tonight,” he muses, unfazed. “But now I don’t know if you deserve the compliment.”

You glare at him. “Shut up.”

Hajime smirks. “Touchy.”

He spins you as the music hits a crescendo, dropping you abruptly into a dip that catches you heavily off-guard. It makes you lock your fingers tighter around his neck, and when he lifts you back up, you nearly slam right into his very, very firm chest (what the hell, is this man made entirely of protein?), face first.

“What the fuck?” you huff, a little winded. “You are actually a horrible human being.”

Hajime hums, tilting his head slightly, his eyes flickering with something too smug, too entertained. “You keep saying that,” he muses, voice low enough that it barely carries past the space between you, “but I think you just like having someone to complain about.”

Before you can deliver a scathing reply, he tugs you a fraction closer. It’s subtle, barely noticeable to anyone watching, but you feel it—the shift of his fingers pressing against the small of your back, the way your body slots against his just enough for warmth to pass between you.

Your breath catches, and it’s infuriating how he notices. How his hold tightens, like he can read every single thought running through your head and is thrilled by it.

“You’re such a dick,” you frown, shifting slightly, trying to put some space between you.

Hajime chuckles, and the sound is entirely too satisfied. His mouth is right by your ear, so you practically feel it more than you really hear it, when he murmurs, “And what are you gonna do about it?”

Your brain short-circuits.

Because that—that—is not fair.

That is the kind of thing a man should not be allowed to say in that voice, in that low, teasing rumble, into your ear, while holding you against him like this.

It happens before you can even think about it.

Before you can register that you are, in fact, in the middle of a ballroom at your company’s annual gala. Before you can process the reality that Emi is somewhere in this crowd, and she has already been insufferable about this whole ordeal.

Before any of that can hit you, you grab the lapels of his stupidly well-fitted suit, tilt your chin up, and kiss him.

It’s instant, sharp, devastating. Your hands tighten against his chest as you crash into him, and Hajime—because he is the worst person alive—immediately reacts.

One hand presses firm into your back, the other finding its way to your jaw, fingers curling just slightly as he deepens the kiss without hesitation. His lips are warm, just the right mix of soft and steady, and when he angles his head just so—his nose brushing against yours, his thumb skimming your cheek—you feel yourself sink, like he’s pulling you under and you don’t even mind drowning.

It should not be this good.

It should not set your pulse racing like this, make you forget for a single, damning second that this is the worst possible thing you could be doing right now.

But it does. And for just a moment, nothing else exists. Not the party. Not the music. Not the fact that literally everyone is watching you right now. Just the heat of his mouth, the firm press of his fingers at your back, the way he exhales sharply like he wasn’t expecting this either, but he’s not about to stop it, not for anything in the world.

And then you remember where you are.

You rip yourself away, blinking rapidly, your brain racing to catch up with what you just did.

And that is the moment you hear it: the loudest, most delighted squeal of your entire existence.

Your stomach plummets.

Because standing at the edge of the ballroom, her hands clasped together in sheer glee, is none other than Emi Iwaizumi herself. And she is positively vibrating with joy.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she gushes, and the way she looks at you is the exact way someone would look at their child who just announced they were getting married. “I knew it! I knew you two would be perfect together!”

Your soul leaves your body. You stare at her, horrified. You slowly turn back to Hajime—who, because he is an absolute menace, is still standing entirely too close, still holding you just slightly like he isn’t ready to let go.

And he is smiling.

The kind of smile that says I win. The kind of smile that says he is absolutely going to remind you of this for the rest of your natural life.

You physically have to stop yourself from shoving him away.

Instead, you inhale, sharp and deep, and will yourself to stay calm. Emi is still talking. She is still gushing. And you cannot deal with whatever she’s about to say next, so before she can so much as breathe, you turn back to Hajime, seize his wrist, and drag him off the dance floor, because if you don’t get away from this immediately, you are actually going to die of secondhand embarrassment and shame.

five.

This is because of your dry spell.

Your dry spell is the reason why your entire sense of self-control and awareness have gone out the window, and the reason why, now that you and Hajime have successfully escaped the ballroom onto the balcony, he is doubled over laughing and you are actually freaking out.

“Jesus fuck,” you groan, pressing your hands to your face. The cool night air does nothing to soothe the absolute catastrophe unfolding inside your brain. “I kissed you. I kissed you in front of everyone.”

Hajime straightens, still grinning like an asshole. “Yeah,” he says, entirely too pleased. “You did.”

You drop your hands, glaring. “Fuck you, dude. You’re not helping.”

He shrugs. “Wasn’t aware I needed to.”

You let out an incoherent noise of distress.

Hajime, because he is insufferable, just leans against the balcony railing, watching you unravel like it’s the best entertainment he’s had all night. His tie is slightly loosened now, his jacket unbuttoned, and somehow, he looks even better like this—a little rumpled, a little amused, looking at you like he already knows how this is going to end.

That is actually unacceptable.

“This is your fault,” you snap, pointing an accusing finger at him. “You goaded me into it.”

Hajime raises an eyebrow. “Oh, so I made you kiss me?”

“Yes,” you declare, with full conviction, even though you definitely grabbed him first. “You set me up.”

He snorts, shaking his head. “You really can’t handle taking the L, huh?”

“I can handle it,” you insist. “I just don’t want to.”

His lips twitch like he’s trying very hard not to laugh again. “So you kissed me against your will?”

“Yes.”

Hajime tilts his head, amused. “Interesting. Because you seemed pretty into it.”

Your jaw drops. “I—you—shut up.”

He chuckles, and God, his voice is all warm and low and pleased with himself, and you really need to get it together before you do something stupid again.

You exhale sharply, crossing your arms and shifting your focus to the city skyline instead. Sendai stretches out before you in a sea of golden lights, a stark contrast to the absolute nightmare happening in your head.

This is fine. You can recover from this. You just have to never, ever acknowledge it again.

You square your shoulders, turning back to him. “Okay. Here’s what’s going to happen. We are going to go back inside, pretend this never happened, and move on with our lives.”

Hajime hums, considering. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna work.”

You squint. “What do you mean that’s not gonna work?”

He pushes off the railing, taking a step closer—too close, enough that you feel it again, that ridiculous, stupid warmth that shouldn’t still be there after all this time. “I mean,” he says, slow, deliberate, “you’re acting like that kiss was a mistake.”

You blink. “Because it was.”

He lifts a single eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

“Yes,” you say immediately, but it comes out way too defensive, and Hajime knows it.

He grins. You decide that you hate him.

“I’m sure,” you insist, crossing your arms tighter, like that will somehow make this whole situation less insufferable. “It was a heat-of-the-moment thing. A lapse in judgment. That’s it.”

Hajime tilts his head, thoughtful. “Okay. So if I kissed you again right now, you wouldn’t like it.”

Your entire brain short-circuits. The audacity. The unbelievable nerve.

You gape at him. “You wouldn’t.”

His grin widens. “Wouldn’t I?”

You hate how smug he looks. You hate that your stomach flips at the idea of it. You hate that you don’t immediately shut it down.

He watches your expression carefully, like he’s waiting for you to stop him, like he won’t actually do it unless you give him some kind of sign. Which is so much worse, because it means he’s giving you the chance to say no, to walk away, to end this before it can spiral any further.

But you don’t.

And that—more than the kiss itself, more than Emi’s squealing, more than the public spectacle you just made—is what finally sends you into full-blown panic mode.

You do want him to kiss you again.

You stare at him, pulse thrumming, brain caught in a violent tug-of-war between denial and desire. And Hajime? Hajime is watching you with the patience of someone who knows he’s already won.

“Say it,” he murmurs, voice low, steady.

You scowl. “Say what?”

“That you want me to kiss you again.”

Your jaw clenches. He’s baiting you, letting you choose, waiting for you to meet him halfway. You exhale sharply, tilting your chin up. “You’re so full of yourself.”

His mouth twitches. “Not an answer.”

“Fine,” you snap. “I want you to kiss me again.”

Hajime grins. “That’s all I needed.”

And then, he does.

This time, it’s slower, deeper, not rushed by the heat of the moment. He takes his time, like he’s savoring it, like he’s memorizing the way you melt into him. And you? You let him. Because, goddamn it, you were never winning this battle.

When you finally pull away, breathless, he smirks down at you. “See? Not a mistake.”

You groan. “I hate you.”

He laughs, pressing another quick kiss to your forehead that feels far more intimate than a casual pair of friends-with-benefits should. You, scandalized, shove him away, but Hajime just grins, like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“You’re impossible,” you mutter, pressing your fingers to your forehead, like that will somehow stop the ridiculous heat crawling up your neck.

Hajime hums, smug. “And yet, you’re still standing here.”

You are still standing here. You could have left, could have walked back into that ballroom and pretended this entire thing never happened. But instead, you’re here. On this balcony. With him.

You shift, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. “So… what now?”

Hajime leans back against the railing. “Dunno. Guess that depends on you.”

You narrow your eyes. “Why do I feel like you already have an answer?”

“Because I do,” he says plainly, in a way so nonchalant and effortless it could only be said like that by him.

You exhale sharply, tilting your head up to the sky, like the stars might have some kind of solution for this. “You know this is gonna be a thing now, right?”

Hajime raises an eyebrow. “A thing?”

“Yeah,” you say, making a vague gesture between the two of you. “A thing. Emi’s gonna lose her mind. She’s probably already telling the senior partners that her matchmaking career is a success.”

Hajime laughs, the sound easy, effortless. “Yeah. She probably is.”

You sigh, dragging a hand down your face. “I am never going to live this down.”

“Probably not.”

You squint at him. “You could at least pretend to be sympathetic.”

Hajime shrugs, then reaches for your hand, tugging you forward so suddenly that you nearly stumble into him. His hands slide down to your waist, thumbs brushing over the fabric of your dress. “I could,” he murmurs, close, too close, “but we both know I wouldn’t mean it.”

You scowl. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet,” he says, smug, “you still kissed me. Twice, actually.”

You glare. “Stop counting.”

“No promises.”

You groan, pressing your forehead to his chest in sheer exasperation. “This is my villain origin story.”

Hajime just laughs, wrapping his arms fully around you, and you hate—hate—that it feels nice, that it feels right.

“Hajime,” you say, voice muffled against his suit jacket.

“Yeah?”

You lift your head just enough to meet his gaze. “If we’re doing this, you are legally required to make it up to me with at least two fancy dates. Minimum.”

Hajime smirks, like he was already planning on it. “Deal.”

“And no getting too smug about this, either,” you squint.

He tilts his head. “Define ‘too smug.’”

You groan, shoving at his chest. “God, I hate you.”

Hajime just catches your wrist and grins, pressing a slow, soft kiss to your knuckles. “Sure you do.”

You really don’t. And both of you know that very well, because he has his mother’s spell-blinding smile and you have always been a sucker for them both.

⨭ closing; churned this out over one 3 hour writing sesh bc i got this idea in my head and had to see it through. not proofread and very very hastily written, but i like her anyway. #comment #reblog #lemme know ur thoughts mwah xoxo

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ghouldump · 6 months ago

Note

hi i love your writing unfortunately there aren't many fics for the iwtv so tysm!!

i was wondering if you could write something about louis lestat and claudia with a (vamp?) reader that accidently timetraveld

Back In My Arms | Lestat x Reader x Louis

ෆ time traveling accidentally and you're able to relive bittersweet memories.

thank you and I agree, especially the amc version compared to the movie. The other posts are coming, but I had to rush and get this one out because it was so gut wrenching for me 😭 LOL

“What do you think? The blue or the purple,” you held the dresses to your body.

“I prefer your birthday suit,” Lestat said over the classical music, making you roll your eyes at him. Could he ever be serious when you needed him to be?

“Louis,” you called out, wanting a real opinion.

“Hm? Oh, the purple” he was hardly listening, more focused on the pages of the book.

“So the blue, got it,” you grumbled, storming away, to finish packing your things.

“Ma chèrie, why are you leaving again? It truly makes no sense to me why you remain friends with this mortal,” Lestat said.

“I don't see why you care, it's not like either of you will notice I’m away,” you said, as you closed the bag.

“Don't say that, we do notice,” Louis said, defensively.

“I'll only be away for a night,” you mumbled, checking your appearance in the mirror, and slinging the bag over your shoulder.

“Stay, you can give us a more detailed visual representation of the dresses,” Lestat said, straightening his posture when you scoffed.

“Sex doesn't fix everything”

“It is a start”

“And maybe that's why we’re in the situation we’re in, now, if you'll excuse me, I’m going hang with my mortal friend, who communicates with me and doesn't want to block out our problems with Mozart, books, and sex,” you said, storming out of the townhouse, making sure to slam the door.

Getting into your car, you began to drive to your close friend, George, or Georgie, you called him both. He was middle-aged, although he was closing in on becoming elderly. He'd oftentimes been told he resembled Bill Nye, but those comments usually only made him red in the face, before he sent a storm of swear words at the person, in his thick Cajun accent. Divorced and cut out of his kid's lives, he was lonely, but so were you. Georgie was the only mortal to ever know that you were a vampire, and he made you feel normal.

Although having a few questions at first, he eventually let the matter go, and hardly ever brought it up. The two of you had been friends for nearly a decade now, and you planned to hold on until the bitter end. He wasn't too keen on being turned, scorned by his wife leaving him and his children siding with her. Lestat and Louis weren't comfortable with your friendship at all, but after realizing your relationship was completely platonic and you weren't cutting him out of your life, they grungily accepted him.

As you finally parked in front of Georgie’s house, approaching the door, you shook your head, discovering it was unlocked. Letting yourself in, you locked the door, going to where you'd both hang out for hours, his basement.

“You need to keep your door locked old man, anyone could just walk in here,” you said, going down the stairs. Tossing your bag onto the couch you'd usually sleep on, in the windowless room.

“Nobody comes here but you,” he said, making you laugh.

“So how is it going?” you asked, sitting in a nearby chair.

“A little more progress than last time, how are things at home?”

“Lestat is…well Lestat and Louis will always act like our issues aren't there,” you shrugged.

“Have you tried talking to them?”

“Of course, Lestat doesn't take anything seriously enough, and Louis wants to brush over it all,” you said.

“Hopefully, this is a success, because then we can fix everything,” Georgie smiled.

“Maybe you, but I don't see my problems being fixed”

“Don't underestimate science,” he told you.

Georgie had been working on an actual time-machine portal. He believed if he could go back in time, undo his mistakes, could prioritize his family over work, maybe that would stop his wife from having an affair with the neighbor, from leaving him and draining his wallet, and taking his children who he couldn't even get a happy birthday from.

He insisted that you would be able to use it, to repair your companionship. A long time had passed since 1910 and much tragedy and heartbreak happened. Separating from each other and eventually reconnecting, recently everything had been so stagnant and bland. No energy to argue about obvious conflicts, but unwilling to leave each other again and be forced to deal with the pain.

“Oh, my goodness,” Georgie stood up, his hand going to his chest. Your eyes widened, worried that he would croak.

“What is it?” you asked, you couldn't sense any internal issues, noticing his thoughts were jumping for joy.

“I think…I think it works,” he said, as he began to type on the nearby computer. The pod he'd spent years building, lit up, the white light faint.

“It turns on, how will you know if it works for real?” you asked.

“Could you maybe catch a few raccoons, rats, birds, anything, we can try on them,” he asked. Standing up, you went outside, quickly grabbing a rat from near the drainage, bringing it to him.

“Done,” you smiled, holding it firm, tossing it in the pod, as he opened the door. The rat squeaked a bit, running in circles, as Georgie typed.

The machine began to make a noise before the rat burst. It’s guts splattering on the door.

“Ew, what happened?” you asked him, pressing against the door, to look inside in disgust.

“It seems like it is releasing some sort of radiation, too strong for animals and people, I'll have to keep working on it,” he grumbled disappointedly.

“I could try it if you want,” you offered.

“The radiation will be damaging-

“In case you forgot, I’m hardly human anymore, I am a bit intrigued, the worst thing that could honesty happen is I get burned up, and I’ll heal,” you said, as he faced you.

“Are you sure? I don't want you to feel like you have to do this, Y/n,” he said, but you brushed him off.

“Trust me, I don't, but you've put so much time into this, almost as long as I've known you, I want this to work out for you,” you said.

“Okay, let me get suited up, to clean it first,” he said, changing into the nbc suit to clean the inside of the pod. While waiting for him, you checked your phone, seeing a message from Louis.

“Sending a picture of the dress, I’m sure you look beautiful as always”

Smiling softly, you set your phone on the counter, taking your shoes off, watching as Georgie scrubbed the blood away. Little did Louis know, you wouldn't be wearing the dress to go hunting tonight. As soon as he finished cleaning, he was back at your side, typing on the monitor.

“We’ll do, let's say 5 minutes into the future, I’ll think of a number and when you come back, tell me the number, and time it to see if there is a significant change in time,” he said, as you nodded in agreement, accepting the small stopwatch, stepping into the pod.

Your arms at your sides, you briefly gave him a thumbs up, hoping to reassure his anxious thoughts. Typing on the computer, the pod began to light up again, the noise leaking out before it started to shake. Standing up, Georgie stood with his eyes wide, his jaw dropping as you vanished.

“Oh my Lord, it's working,” he said, his hand shakily went to his mouth.

Back at home, Louis and Lestat were relaxing, leisurely lounging around when it happened. A sudden feeling of dread washed over them as if you were gone. Glancing at each other, both of them stood up, rushing from the house to your friend, George's home. Bursting through the door, they went downstairs.

George looked back, gasping, surprised to see the elder vampires. However, before he could say anything or move, Lestat had him pressed against the wall, his hand around his neck.

“What did you do?”

“M-machine,” he choked out, looking over at the pod.

“Lestat, look,” Louis said, staring at the pod, fog seeping from the bottom.

“What is this?” he continued, looking to George.

“Time machine,” he struggled to say, before Lestat dropped him.

“You didn't put her into your experiment,” Louis said out loud, shaking his head, already pacing the floor.

“She offered, and it was only five minutes into the fut-

Suddenly, within the fog, you could be seen, smiling in excitement from the exhilaration of the atoms passing through your body. Your smile quickly faltered, seeing your lovers and a nervous Georgie.

“What are you doing here?” you asked.

“Get her out of it, now,” Lestat told Georgie.

“Leave him alone,” you argued.

“This isn't safe, Y/n, we thought you were gone,” Louis told you.

“Don't parent me, Louis”

“Get her out of it now, or it will be destroyed,” Lestat said, shoving George into the computer, his hands smashing against the keyboard.

“Stop it, Lestat,” you yelled.

“What did you do?” George stressed, as the machine lit up. Typing as quickly as possible, he couldn't see the results that he needed.

“Y/n, he made me press a few buttons, it is going to the past, I don't know how far, but I’m going to fix it,” Georgie said apologetic.

“What?” Lestat and Louis said at the same time.

“Do not kill him, fucking asshole,” you said before vanishing.

“Can you bring her right back?” Louis asked.

“I don't even know how far it has brought her”

“Well figure it out,” Lestat snapped.

“This is your fault, she told me all about you and your ugly ways,” George said. Tilting his head, Lestat was about to reach for him, but Louis grabbed his arm.

“He has to bring her back to us,” he reminded him.

“She is going somewhere in the 19th century, I can't pinpoint where and when. Time should be a little longer through the pod, so I’d estimate a few hours for us if it is a success”

“For us?” Louis asked.

“IF it is a success?” Lestat screamed at the same time as him. George truly didn't understand what you saw in the dramatic man, other than his good looks.

“I've been studying this for some time now and with time travel, it could feel like days, or even longer, but in reality, it should only be a few hours, and I say if because we haven't tried going to the past. The pod isn't sustainable for the undead and Y/n getting in was the first actual progress of real-time travel,” he explained.

“Maybe one of us could go in and-

“No, that is the worst solution, we don't know where she went, so I wouldn't know where to send you and it is only one pod, and overloading the database is the last thing that needs to happen, we’ll give it a few hours,” George said, standing.

“Where are you going?” Lestat asked him.

“Have a glass of wine, if it could take a few hours, I’m going to relax for a while, you're free to make yourselves comfortable,” he said, stepping out of the NBC suit, before going up the stairs.

“We just have to wait,” Louis reassured Lestat, who stood staring at the pod, unable to believe this was happening.

As the pod finally stopped shaking, you peered outside at the change of setting. You were outside, Georgie nowhere to be seen. Turning on the stopwatch, you muttered an apology to him, before punching the thick glass and pushing the door open. Immediately, you recognized the familiarly different environment.

Your bare feet touching the dirt, you recognized the small, poorly built houses. You hadn't seen these houses in ages after Katrina wiped the remaining pieces away.

“Hey, what are you doing-

“You saw no one here, and you won't let anyone get near this precious contraption, now go on inside,” you glamoured the man, watching as he went back up the stairs, into the house.

Sighing, you began to leave the area, ignoring the strange stares. From the way everyone dressed, you were somewhere between the first three decades of the 19th century, and you were sticking out like a sore wearing the knee-length sundress. There was only one place you knew to go, to be sure of the date.

Coming to a complete stop in front of your home, you could see the lights on. Taking a deep breath, you reminded yourself that if they were here, this wasn't the same Louis and Lestat you were having issues with, and so you'd have to act accordingly.

Opening the door, you could hear the shuffling of feet and the sound of furniture being torn apart. Furrowing your eyebrows, you went upstairs, surprised to see them in that room. Making eye contact with Louis, he did a double take.

“Y/n,” he said, taken away by your beautiful, he hadn't seen a dress made in such a way before, shorter than average, but still classy.

Hearing your name, Lestat opened that lovely pink coffin, climbing out, and tossing the diary to the side.

“Ma chérie, you stopped for shopping?” he asked, a small smirk in place.

“Did you see her?” Louis finally asked. At a loss of words, you struggled to speak for a moment.

“I'm sorry, I'm not feeling like myself, what year is it?” you asked.

“1920, you alright?” Louis asked, approaching you.

“Look who finally decided to crawl home to her coffin and write about her psychosexual behavior,” Lestat spat.

“You read my diary?” hearing that beloved voice, your eyes began to sting.

“Only a little bit,” Louis confessed.

“I read all of it and you are a little deviant brat,” Lestat said, as you slowly turned around. The bloody tears began trickling down your cheeks, as you stared into her eyes. She was real, in the flesh, not a figment from your dreams or old photos, but was here in front of you.

“Claudia,” you said, her name flowing from your lips caused you to visibly tremble.

“Mama,” she started, concerned, her eyes widening as you rushed over, pulling her into a bone-crushing hug.

Weeping bitterly, you held her close, unwilling to let her slip away this time, whispering sweet words of love to her. Confusedly, she hugged you back, as you both sat on the floor, holding her in your arms.

While the two men were originally set on disciplining their wild daughter, their concern now shifted to you.

“Claudia, you've been reckless-

“They're buried in Chalmette,” you interrupted, Lestat, your hand comfortingly brushing over her curls.

“How do you know that?” Louis asked, but you ignored him.

“My beautiful girl,” you whispered, hugging her one last time tightly, before letting her go.

“Are you okay, mama?”

“I couldn't be better at this moment,” you reassured her, kissing her forehead.

“Let her off this time, please, for me, she's still a child, and there will be a time when we wish we still had our beautiful girl staying here with us,” you said, facing them, seeing your blood-stained face, they were beyond concerned.

“It's still a little early for bed, perhaps you'd like to play a game of chess?” you asked her, wiping your eyes and accepting her hand, as she stood up.

Going into the living room, Claudia couldn't help but think about how unusually attentive you were being. Sure, she was just as spoiled as other children, but you never stopped her from being disciplined when you all agreed she needed to be.

“Claudia, you know I love you, right?” you asked her, watching as she set up the game.

“Yes,” she nodded.

“Without you, an eternity isn't the same,” you admitted, as Lestat and Louis came downstairs, joining the two of you.

Your lovers watched you intentively, as you played the game with Claudia. Lestat noticed how you were letting her win, purposely moving to the wrong places, as she took your pieces while showering her with praises.

He couldn't put his finger on it, but something about the interaction seemed different. Any other time you played chess with her, you gave her a challenge, expressing where she was improving or where she needed work. This time, you were treating her like a little child, like you hadn't seen her in forever, or would never see her again.

Time flew and after two long rounds, Louis stood, announcing Claudia needed to go to bed. Groaning, she stood, wanting to stay longer, but you shook your head.

“It's okay, you need your beauty rest, I love you so much, sleep well,” you told her, hugging her firmly once more.

“Love you too,” she mumbled before she was stomping up the stairs.

“Are you sure you are okay, ma chérie?” Lestat asked, as soon as her bedroom door shut.

“I am, I just, the thought of one day losing her, or being apart hurts my soul, our relationship would probably never be the same,” you said, smiling sadly at him.

“Why would we never be the same?”

“Because she's our daughter, and it would take losing her to see how much she is loved, even you, she's so much like you and that's why you clash so much,” you laughed.

“Wouldn't that make us stronger?”

“I wish that was the case, but holding onto the past makes you unable to communicate like you're supposed to-

“Where is all this coming from? Talk to us, what's on your heart?” Louis asked.

“Please don't question me, but there will be a time when we are so weirdly uninterested in each other, and we try to block out our issues with reading, music, and sex,” you said.

“Why though?”

“Holding onto the past”

“Then you'd have to remind us of what is ahead and not behind,” Lestat said, leaning down, pecking your lips.

Feeling your face burn from the passionate kiss, you looked down, your eyes widening noticing your fingers faded. You have watched enough sci-fi movies with Georgie to know it was time for you to leave.

“I need to make a quick run-

“The sun will be up in another hour,” Louis told you.

“I know, I won't be long, love you both,” you said, pecking both of their lips, before running out of the house.

As you ran back to the backyard, you were surprised to see the man back outside.

“What are you doing?” you asked him, seeing as he sat on the steps, watching the pod.

“I saw some kids run back here, so I’m just watching this contraption,” he shrugged. Staring at the man, you recognized him, Georgie’s grandfather, but much younger. You had seen the few photos hanging up on the house and you identified the face quickly.

“If you had advice for a future relative, a son or grandson, what would you tell him?”

“Life gets hard, we make mistakes, and we lose people, but we have to hold onto the better part of things. I get divorced, but I was able to experience a beautiful marriage, same with children, I was fortunate to experience fatherhood”

“Beautifully said, go get some rest,” you said, glamouring him, watching as he nodded, going inside.

Carefully stepping over the broken glass, you cautiously stepped inside, shutting the door, as the fog came back, the machine lighting up, before you were gone.

“Anything?”

“You just asked me that a few minutes ago, please, have some damn patience,” George said to Lestat, who was pestering him about you. The man was trying as hard as he could and Lestat did not care one bit.

Suddenly, the pod lit up, the fog coming back. Typing on the computer the door opened, before you stepped out, your feet dirty.

“I was away 6 hours and 40 minutes, how long has it been?” you asked, tossing Georgie the stopwatch.

“2 long hours, you've been crying,” Louis said, going to pull you into a hug.

“I saw her, our girl, she was perfect,” you said, feeling him stiffen in your arms before his shoulders shuttered from crying.

“What was she doing?” he asked.

“She had gotten in trouble, but I convinced you both to let it go, and we spent time together,” you said, as he smiled, nodding.

“You told her you loved her?” he asked, hopeful.

“Yes,” you nodded, as the hug tightened before he pulled away.

“And you told me something, so valuable,” you said, shifting to Lestat.

“Of course I did,” he smirked.

“You told me to remind you both of what is ahead of us and not our past,” you said, watching as he dabbed his eyes, stopping any tears on his part.

“Sounds like something I’d say, I guess,” he grinned.

“Are you ready to come home? I know you're probably exhausted from all of this?” Louis asked, grabbing your bag when you nodded.

Glancing at Georgie, who stood awkwardly waiting for you to finish with your reunion. Moving away from Lestat, you stood in front of your good friend, before pulling into a hug.

“Someone dear to you told me some valuable advice I want to share with you,” you smiled.

“Okay”

“Life gets hard, we make mistakes, and we lose people, but we have to hold onto the better part of things. Our past isn't meant to be changed, but rather we embrace the experience, both good and bad, because it shapes us into who we are. You might not be able to get your marriage back, but you could try to reach out to your children, Georgie,” you said, smiling as he teared up, agreeing with you.

“We have our own affairs to handle,” Lestat groaned, ready to leave the tiny basement.

“Shh,” Louis nudged him before you followed the two out of the house.

“Now that I think about Lestat was more charming back then, but now it's you, Louis,” you said, both of you laughing as Lestat scoffed, going on a rant about his greatness.

You missed Claudia greatly, but you had to keep moving, you all did. You still had an eternity of life, but maybe one day, just maybe, when you're reunited, she'll be where she belongs, back in your arms.

#lestat de lioncourt x reader #lestat x reader #lestat de lioncourt #louis de pointe du lac x reader #louis x reader #interview with the vampire #amc iwtv

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innuendostudios · 5 months ago

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youtube

New Alt-Right Playbook! This one's on spurious claims and how they don't even need to be ARTICULATED to follow you around.

If you wanna keep this series coming out (and maybe help it come out a little faster) do please consider backing me on Patreon or subscribing to me on Nebula.

Transcript below the cut.

Say, for the sake of argument, you are the kind of progressive leftist with a platform who gets a share of harassment - seasonal or perennial - from reactionaries. In this situation, you will, inevitably, hear one who positions themself as a reasonable moderate ask, “Why Don’t You Respond To Criticism?”

There’s a lot going on in that question, more than is obvious, and it’s worth understanding.

First is that the question is not only directed at you. It exists as a marker, showing up in your Q&A’s, comment sections, or Twitter threads, to imply to anyone paying attention to you that there is some wealth of legitimate criticism you have long ignored. There may well be a specific point this person is referring to, but it’s often left unspecified or generalized, so that the content - and the quantity - of the criticism is left to audience imagination. It is meant to publicly undermine your legitimacy.

Second, it’s meant to make you question whether there is some legitimate criticism out there in the din of people screaming at you. You’re not perfect, and a knock-on effect of being harassed is you get numbed out, unable to discern good faith from bad, often removing yourself from the streams through which your peers used to correct you because of the endless flow of garbage coming through those channels now. But the only way to verify the ambiguous claim that there is criticism worth responding to is to once again strap on waders and climb in, which is often what your critic really wants.

Third, the question isn’t really “why don’t you respond to criticism?” Odds are, you do respond to some criticism. People in your position are often addressing or pre-empting criticism all the time, arguably too much. No, what this nonspecific question is really asking is, “Why don’t you respond to my criticism?” They’ll let it sound like you’ve been ignoring everyone, but they mean “why are you ignoring me?” They are going to insist you owe them a response, that their critique, regardless of your opinion of it, is valid, and demands immediate attention. Odds are there are dozens of people saying the same, all at once.

Fourth, odds are good that you have, in fact, addressed their specific complaint, but not in a manner they will accept. This one person’s criticism is likely not unique, you may have covered it somewhere in your output purely because you know what kind of arguments are getting thrown at you and you want to cover your bases. There’s a decent chance your critic doesn’t actually consume enough of your work to have seen it. But it’s maybe even more likely that they are aware of your counter-argument - possibly one of your fans directed them to it - but don’t consider a response legitimate unless it is directed at the critic. Covering it in a different context or on a different platform doesn’t count. They are owed a statement they can respond to directly, because they want the argument to continue. Really, the question is, “Why don’t you respond to my criticism on my terms?”

Finally, even if you did respond to them by name, it’s likely your response would still be disqualified. If you were to summarize their argument in any way, they would claim you are building a straw man. If you isolated any specific critique, or pointed to the cruelty that accompanied it, they would claim you’re cherry-picking. You must, it seems, first present the criticism, full and unabridged, before you may respond to it. Which is to say: the only “correct” way to respond to criticism is to platform the critic.

And there are dozens who expect this of you. Who will tear into you for not addressing, in meticulous detail, every single critique they’ve ever tossed your way, and, in the same breath, make fun of you for talking too much. Because they don’t want to move on from “Why Don’t You Respond to Criticism?” As a rhetorical tactic, it’s pretty ace. To announce, before the argument is even stated, that it is thus far undefeated? ::chef’s kiss:: Because any response you make will keep the focus on you and not their argument. “It’s not worth responding to.” “Well why should The Accused get to decide what is and isn’t worth responding to?” “I have responded, repeatedly.” “Well why didn’t you respond in this particular way?” None of this looks at whether the argument had any credibility to begin with, only at whether your rebuttal is following procedure.

Take, for example, the hypothetical criticism that you should not listen to me because I am just four eels in a trenchcoat. How would I respond to that? What can I say that isn’t exactly what four eels in a trenchcoat would say? “I’m not even wearing a trenchcoat”? Well, the first thing four eels would do when people start to catch on is wear hoodies. Show my birth certificate, saying I was born a single entity to a human mother at a weight four newborn eels wouldn’t add up to? Well, did that work for Obama? Or did the guy saying the birth certificate was fake get elected President? And, of course, anything I have to say about how fascism has evolved on the social internet is suspect if I can’t even prove I’m human. What do fish know?? We stayed at war with Iraq for seven years after the government announced the Weapons of Mass Destruction we were looking for never existed, and some people, to this day, still think we found them. What hope would I - a warm-blooded mammal who would make very mediocre sushi - stand in the face of that? [bell chime]

So, if you ever see this claim out in the wild, “why haven’t you responded to _____,” ask: do you know what _____ is, do you yourself agree it’s a valid question, and are you sure it hasn’t already been answered? And don’t repeat the question unless you’ve got three yesses.

#video essay #the alt right playbook #Youtube

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loverboysturn · 30 days ago

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˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ cinderella!reader and her besties discuss their opinions on the football team at lunch

note: this is not proofread!!! i wanted to introduce some of readers’s friendship group and give matt more of a mention into this au hehe :)

asks for this au are always open! find all popular!chris and cinderella!reader writings here and everything else for them here

the cafeteria had buzzed with the usual lunchtime chaos but it was finally starting to die down.

you were sat in your usual corner table with your three best friends, halfway through your lunches when suddenly the door to the cafeteria door bangs open, and a group of football players stroll in like they own the place.

they stroll in, tossing a football over the head of innocent students just trying to eat their lunches, laughing and joking loudly with one another, everyone making room for them as they make their way over to their usual table by the windows.

one of your friends breaks the silence at your table, “they think they’re so untouchable, like they’re so above everyone else, don’t they?” she says, rolling her eyes.

“i don’t get it, it’s like they don’t know how to be normal, everything is so over the top and loud with them” your other friend says, giving her opinion.

you shift in your seat, “they come in the diner after every practice a lot, they’re exactly the same as they are in here” you add. “some of them are kinda nice though, sometimes”

your first friend rolls her eyes, obviously not believing your last comment. “i couldn’t stand being popular like that, you know, like the way everyone talks about them and their business”

your other friend’s eyes widen and she bangs her hand on the table with excitement, like she’d forgotten to tell you all something. “oh my god” she whispers, “that reminds me, in maths this morning, everyone’s talking about how at some party over the weekend, matt sturniolo hooked up with one of the cheerleaders from the rival team were playing next week, but apparently, her boyfriend is the captain of the team. we should go to the game just to see the drama of it all unfold.”

you groan, a little disgusted by the team’s antics and her idea of going to a football game, you were kind of used to hearing them brag in the diner about things like this that they did but then your friend who hadn’t added anything yet to the conversation, usually the quieter of your group chimes in, “i think matt’s hot, is that bad?” she whispers to you all like she’s confessing something forbidden.

you and your other friends all look at each other then back to her, “wait, you think matt is hot?” your first friend who initiated the conversation says, raising an eyebrow with a smirk on her face. “chris is hot too but his ex girlfriend scares me, actually, the whole cheer team scare me.”

“how do you think i feel?” you say with a nervous laugh, “i have to serve them all in the diner, she gives me daggers when i hand chris his pancakes or a milkshake like she thinks i’m going to steal him off of her.”

“little does she know, you’re not interested in her precious football captain cause you have your own secret little lover” your friend teases you, poking you over the table. “which speaking of, are you any closer to knowing who he is?”

you shrug, trying to act nonchalant, but inside you’re torn. “i really don’t know.”

she grins at you, “isn’t it crazy that he could be literally anyone. he could be on the maths team, in the music club..” she whispers, looking over her shoulder to the window where the football team were sat and quickly turning back to you, “fuck, he could even be one of them, and you’ll never know if you don’t go and meet him at this party on friday.”

you laugh nervously, trying to brush the conversation off. your best friends innocent question causing a feeling of anxiety to bubble up in your chest.

you swallow down hard, trying to steady your breathing, but all you could hear was the pounding of your own heartbeat in your ears.

“do you even want to know who he is?” she adds, staring at you, waiting for an answer, one you didn’t have for her.

you didn’t know, you had no idea.

and for the first time, you realise how terrified you are of the truth.

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brekkie-e · 3 months ago

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Ok. I am all for giving Veilgaurd the space to be it's own game and appreciate it for what it is, but every time I see a person who openly talks about only getting in to dragon age this year or some other nonsense go off about how long term fans hate the game cause they cant handle change I see red.

I mean, to be a Dragon Age fan, you have to be able to accept change. Change is at the core of the experience. Whether that's a good thing or bad thing is a different question. But if you're a long-term fan of the series, you've succeeded in the task of accepting change.

The criticisms of Veilgaurd are, in my opinion, a little unique to the franchise. For all Inquisition tweaked certain lore and it irritated a lot of people- it did so with self-awareness and intention. I am thinking about how it did the Dalish dirty in many respects. For all I do not agree with that writing direction, the game itself atleast acknowledges it is 1. New information. 2. Dependent on the clan. 3. Gives you the room to roleplay your character according to previously established lore. This is just one example, of course.

Veilgaurd is unique in the fact it ignores much of the series pre-established lore and in no way owns up to it.

I have seen a lot of hateful comments about how Origins hasn't been the framework of the series since 2009. And yeah, sure to a degree that is true. The gameplay certainly got tossed out. But in many ways, Dragon Age 2 is a direct continuation of that world and setting. DA2 and Origins and the lore they established are solid and share a vision. Play as a Mahariel and engage with Merril's clan. It's the same world. The same npc's. Inquisition does not deviate that far from that vision when you look past the companions all playing devil's advocate.

I really don't think everyone disappointed with this game or finding it lacking are "blinded by nostalgia." Most Dragon Age fans will be the first ones to tell you the franchise is a mess. But acting like the games that established it as beloved to it's fans are no longer relevant is so nasty to me. You as a newer fan would not be able to play Veilgaurd if the older fans had not made the previous titles financial successes. If they had not kept the love for the series alive, this new game would never have made it out of development.

The game is good. It's enjoyable to play. It's not without its charms. It should be given room to shine for what it is. It's a miracle we have it given the development journey it went on.

But it's also a massive smack in the face to many people who loved all three previous titles. And that's a bad thing. And I hope future titles remember the lore and tone of the series better.

These two things can both be true.

#dragon age #datv #datv critical #dragon age critical #bioware critical #dragon age the veilgaurd #brekkie thoughts #i know some people are taking the negativity too far and ruining it for folks #but flipside is i have seen a lot of new fans with like a vengeful glee?? about making fun of old fans love of the old games #which ngl i have a bigger problem with that #and so many of these comments come hand in hand with #“i tried to play origins this summer and it's unplayable”#or “i couldnt even finish inquisition because of the fetch quests”#like great im glad you found a dragon age game that speaks to you #but you really dont have the credibility to tell long term supporters of this franchise that their disappointments are childish #like some of us waited over ten years to see these reveals and it's being significantly dampened by the bizareness of dock town being #less aware of it's position in the empire #than kirkwall was of its PREVIOUS position in the empire

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dreamingkitsunewrites · 5 months ago

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🖤Needy! CHOSO at the Cinema 🎥

A/N: hey there I'm back! It's finally here... Here's the winner of the survey to all of my Choso's girlies!😏 Sorry it took sooo long:( The other Nanami's works (❤️‍🔥Colleague! Nanami series and 🎧 When I was your Man oneshot will be published soon- please bear with me 😅). As usual, comments and opinions are appreciated. Hope you'll like it.-KAT🦊

TAGLIST: @lemonlimecrystal-blog @lordbelkamort @viviennevianna (Shout out to my dearest readers ❤️) (Bridgerton me enters the chat 😅)

��️Smut/Nsfw content ahead (MDNI); roughly proofread

Summary : fluffy/needy boyfriend Choso at the cinema.

You and Choso have been dating for a while now and you could have never imagined such a sweet person as Choso could exist… he makes you feel special every single day and he enjoys spending time with you above anything else in the world.

One thing about Choso is that he enjoys watching movies… you can say this has become his favourite hobby since he started figuring human habits out…

Since the beginning of your relationship, your typical perfect Saturday dates consisted in staying in, curled up on the couch or in his bed, watching movies and cuddling for the whole afternoon.

Choso always starts holding you in his arms right at the beginning of the film,with your head laying on his chest and your feet entwined…but nine times out of ten, you two somehow manage to toss and shift until you end up in the same starting position…except that as the (titoli di coda) appear on the screen, it was always Choso the one looking up to you with puppy eyes while laying on your chest! He likes to cuddle you while the scenes develop in front of you: his hands instinctively roam along your skin, mindlessly caressing every inch with reverence… his hands always find their way under your shirt, tracing your spine softly, caressing your stomach so gently…and typically, it doesn't take long for him to give in to the temptation of your perky tits, usually freed from the constriction of your bra in those moments of intimacy … he simply can't take his hands to himself when it comes to your boobies, his favourite part of your body: the first time it happened, you two were alone in his room, watching one of his favourite classics, Back to the Future, and his cold hands slowly made their upwards to your chest under your shirt, making you whimper at the sudden cold feeling. You looked at him with a soft smile, but ended up chuckling amused by his feigned nonchalance, betrayed by the subtle bobbing of his Adam’s apple. He was afraid you wouldn't appreciate his touch, he feared it was too early, after all you two had been dating for barely weeks back then…but still he couldn't help it, the sight of your perked nipples showing under the soft fabric of the oversized shirt you borrowed from him made his hands twitch in anticipation…as you caught him he suddenly stopped, blushing and murmuring an excuse while avoiding your eyes, but you took his face in your hands and encouraged him to carry on with his caresses, assuring him that it completely ok for you, he was your boyfriend now and that's what boyfriends do sometimes…his eyes lit up with the familiar spark of cuteness and devotion you have learned to recognize and from that moment on, that cute intimate gesture of him has become an unmissable part of your cosy Saturday afternoons.

At times, Yuji joins you both, adding tons of snacks and cheerful comments to your comfy dates…even on those occasions, Choso struggles to keep his hands in place, resulting in him blushing noticeably behind you on the couch, while shyly giving a soft squeeze to your boobs, hidden under the shield of the blankets. You always giggled at his reaction, fluttered by the way your boyfriend’s love language always included his innocent obsession for your chest.

...

This afternoon though, Yuji came up with a slightly different idea: he suggested the three of you, along with Megumi, Nobara, Todo and Ino should go to the cinema, way too excited for the brand new comedy everyone talked about…

You and Choso accepted the invitation and now, after a long stop at the snacks bar outside the movie hall, you sit next to each other, holding hands while sharing a bucket of popcorn.

The lights go down and the movie begins: the movie is very entertaining and you end up laughing at the comic scenes in front of you, along with Yuji and the others. Choso keeps on holding your hand and observes the way your eyes light up with a spark of amusement he still notices in the darkness of the hall. His gaze lingers on the curve of your stretched neck, as you tilt your head back slightly in amusement… he finds this sight of you irresistible and he can't resist pulling you closer to him anymore: his hand let go of yours for a second and find its way to your waist, encouraging you to shift closer to him and to sit on his lap, with a warm smile, reverend smile. You silently peck his lips in return and feel his arms circling your waist in a tender gesture, before you could shift your attention back to the movie.

There is something about this situation that makes him feel tingly: you two have already been to the cinema before, but this time it feels different…now that he has you all for himself sitting on his lap, he can't contain his need for Pda anymore. Choso feels so cuddly and needy of your attention that he definitely can't stop looking at you, his beautiful girlfriend, with a lost-puppy-eyed expression.

Choso notices how attentive you look while following the movie’s sequences in front of you and he tries his best not to disturb you, leaning back in his chair and attempting to emulate your attention towards the movie but in vain. He tries forcing his eyes on the big screen, he really does, but his resolve crumbles everytime the soft lights of the projection cast shadows on your beautiful profile, enhancing your delicate features: at this point, Choso’s gaze starts flickering in your direction every now and then, stealing sweet glances at your smiley face and landing on the side silhouette of your breasts, faintly lit by the fair light in the midst of the intimate darkness.

He swallows hard, his mouth suddenly feeling dry as his eyes linger on your chest. He can feel the heat rising in his face from both embarrassment and desire.

He swallows hard while his grip on the armrest tightens…he knows he should behave but the sight of your perky boobs and the memory of the soft flesh under his touch is too much for him to bear…

So, as the movie plays on, Choso's hands begin to move, almost unconsciously, slipping under your tank top. You are taken aback by the sudden intrusion of his hands under your shirt and you whimper slightly. His touch is gentle as usual, but you can feel a hint trembling trepidation in the way his fingers glid slowly over your skin, tracing light circles and exploring the smoothness of your stomach and back.

You turn to him and smile softly at his red-cheeked expression: He tries his best to keep a stoic expression, his eyes still fixed on the movie screen, but his breath hitches slightly, and his heart rate quickens as he continues to caress your skin beneath your shirt.

He leans in closer as if seeking more contact, his breath hot and ragged against the side of your neck, the movie long forgotten, as his touch grows more and more daring: his fingers start grazing along the edge of your bra. His heart is racing, the desire growing undeniable, and he leans in closer, his lips brushing against the side of your neck.

“Baby… you feel so good under my hands, your skin is so soft…” he murmurs shyly against your neck.

“Oh Cho…you are so sweet” you giggle “but we’re at the cinema right now…someone might see you” you scold him playfully, placing a hand on his wandering one.

“I know baby and I'm so sorry ....but you look so beautiful now…how can I be so lucky to have you all for myself?” He says softly and leaves an open-mouthed kiss at the base of your neck. “Please let me touch you…I need that” he looks at you with those puppy eyes and your heart melts… “ok…seems like someone's cuddly today…”

He blushes as you kiss his forehead and lean closer to him, giving him better access to your body. His hands continued to explore, one sliding up along your spine, sending another shiver down your back as he traced the edge of your bra again. You whimper as you feel his hands cupping your breasts through the fabric of your bra, his touch almost desperate as his hands trace its lace …you try to concentrate on the film but it gets so damn difficult with him fidgeting with the edge of your underwear.

“Cho…what are you doing?” You distractedly whisper to him, completely engrossed in the movie as you are. He leans in even closer, his body now fully pressed against yours, his breath coming in ragged gasps against your ear as his hands grow bolder, more insistent in their touch. He stops for a second, fighting his urges to feel your bare breasts in his hands, but his hands quickly move again, carefully slipping beneath the lace of your bra,his fingertips grazing your soft skin as he palmed the swell of your mounds. Feeling the warmth radiating from them, Choso have to bite his lip to stifle a moan.

He whimpers softly as he fondles your bare breasts, rolling the sensitive peaks between his fingers over and over again. You feel heat in between your thighs as he pinches and tugs desperately, sending shivers down your spine. But Choso continues to knead and tease your nipples, his own arousal growing more insistent with each touch. You shift in your seat and you stiffen when you feel his hips grinding subtly against your thigh, his erection straining against the fabric of your clothes. You turn to face him and let out a moaned whisper: “Cho?”

"Mmm, I’m sorry,yn..but your boobies are perfect…I can't stop thinking about your nipples, how hard they get under my touch…and now…” he stops and blushes deeply “I need you so badly…I’ve been hard for half of the movie but I didn't want to disturb you…you seemed so caught up by the plot" he breathes against your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. “But I can't take it anymore now…it's so hard it hurts” he admits shyly, grinding his hips insistently against you to make you feel his aching needy cock. “Please…can we leave for a sec…I swear it won't take long…I feel like I am already about to explode but I need your help…now…please…” he lets out a strangled groan when his cock brushes against the fabric of your skirt. You feel powerful right now, amazed by the power you have on your pretty boyfriend, all needy and wrapped around your fingers. You decide to tease him a little more.

“Poor Cho…you’ve been this hard for all of this time?” You place a hand on his crotch and he whimpers like a boy at the touch, nodding his head while biting his lower lip. “Please…can we go to the bathroom?”

You smile softly at him and nod. Without hesitation, he stands up abruptly, nearly knocking over the popcorn bucket in his haste to enjoy of your consent. Choso grabs your wrist, yanking you up and leading you towards the exit, almost stumbling over the dimly-lit treads of the hall.

Once inside, you enter a lavatory and lock the door behind you. His breath is ragged and he just stands in front of you whispering embarrassed words of apology. He looks so cute, all flushed and needy, with his big bulge straining in his pants.

You place your index on his lips, shushing him: “ No need to apologize baby, that movie is not even half as entertaining as seeing you like this…now shut up and let me take care of you…tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you” you encourage him, looking straight into his eyes. Your hands find their way under his shirt now, caressing his toned abdomen and heading downwards, tracing his V-line with feathers like touches. He tilts his head back under his touch, lleaning against the bathroom door, and lets out a shaky sigh: “I’ll accept…ngh…Whatever you’re willing to give me… your hands, your mouth…just please… let me cum…I can’t hold back anymore…I need to feel you” he sounds desperate right now, as you free his throbbing shaft from the constraint of his pants. It springs out, long and thick, already leaking a copious amount of pre-cum from the swollen pink tip.

You look up to him through your eyelashes, giving him a Bambi-like innocent look: “Want me to get on my knees for you and suck you off, baby? Would you like that?” Choso's eyes widen at the suggestion, melting in front of your sweet eyes as he lets out another deep, shaky exhale. "Oh god, yes... Please, Yn. I need your pretty mouth wrapped around me so badly… Please” His pupils are now dilated with lust, while he lets out desperate pleas.

You drop on your knees in front of him, taking his big cock deep inside your mouth without warning. “Fuck yes, YN!" Choso moaned loudly, practically panting with need. You burst out in a spontaneous laugh against his tip, tickling it and sending waves of pleasure throughout his whole being. He has to hold on to the doorknob at the sensation not to cum all over your face right here and there.

“We have to be quiet,Cho…people are just outside this door, anyone could walk in on us at any moment…will you be quiet for me,baby?”

He blushes even more deeply, and you wonder if this is the most flustered state you have ever seen your boyfriend in: "I promise I'll be quiet. For you, I'll do anything. Please don't tease…or I won't hold back…I’m about to explode on your face…ahh baby…Imma cum all over your beautiful face...I wish I could see you all covered in my cum…but I don't wanna ruin your makeup" he whispers, his voice husky with need, "I’m about to make a mess… please continue” his hips jerks forward, burning his cock inside your mouth and deepthroating you, pushing his long shaft deep down your throat. You gag slightly at the sensation, and tears form at the corner of your eyes, but you endure it and soon adjust to the constricting feeling.

“Sorry, baby…” he lets out a strangled apology while desperately buckling his hips back and forth, the thrill of finally feeling his realise approaching blinding his senses, he rocks his hips uncontrollably fast into your mouth, letting the door behind him creek at every thrust “ I know it's a lot to take…but your mouth is so warm…so welcoming…ohhh…I’m going to cum… ohhh..your lips…fuck…you take me so well…I can't hold back…I need to fuck your mouth so bad…” even in the midst of his chase for lust, he is still the sweet boyfriend he is: his hands cups your cheeks gently as he starts to thrust more forcefully, hitting the back of your throat with each stroke. Pre-cum leaks from his tip, dripping down your chin and adding to the slickness already coating your lips and tongue.

"Sorry I’m making such a mess…ohhhh I can't help it... You turn me sooo on… promise I’ll clean you up after…” he murmurs breathlessly, his balls drawing up tight against his body. "I'm getting close... don't stop, please." You clench your lips around his tip, sucking hard and swirling your tongue around him, obtaining a series of muffled little moans.

Choso's thrusts become erratic as he nears the edge, his cock pulsing in your mouth. With a final, guttural moan, he comes undone, spilling a wave of his hot seed down your throat in thick, creamy ropes. "Fuck, YN! Yes! Swallow it all please!" he cries out, his body shuddering with the intensity of his orgasm.

As he comes down from his high, he looks down at you with a satisfied, loving gaze. “Thank you so much…you were amazing…sorry if my control slipped…” he says softly, blushing and caressing your cheeks while you still caress his finally softening cock…he helps you stand up and kisses you sweetly, tasting the the salty lingers of his cum on your tongue. “ You swallowed it all…” he exclaimed, staring at your lips in awe. “Couldn't waste a drop of it…you looked so hot” you smirk at him and he feels his cock twitch in his pants once again

“As soon as the movie’s over I’ll take you home and take care of you too…I’ll eat you out for good and I’ll make sure you cum as hard as I did now” he rushes a trail of promises to you and you can read it in his eyes: in this moment, he would you the whole world. You peck his lips smiling. “Let’s get out of here first…before the others notice we’ve disappeared” you take his hand in yours and make your way out of the bathroom.

Indeed,the movie has already ended and Yuji and the others are already chatting at the gates: “Oh, here you are where have you been?” You are greeted by Yuji’s clueless smile and Choso feels a midst of embarrassment and arousal at his innocent remark. “the guys and I were thinking before: what about grabbing dinner together?” You are about to answer but you are cut off by an unusually excited Choso: “Sorry little bro, YN and I already have an…appointment…to attend…we are already in a rush by the way… see you tomorrow and enjoying your evening, guys!” He rushes an excuse before dragging you out the building. You laugh into the cool evening air …you were up for a long night!

My 🔥 JJK MATERIALIST 🔥 here

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mingtinys · 9 months ago

Text

[11:45 p.m.]

pairing : song mingi x gn!reader

fluff , humor , comfort fic

warnings : thunderstorms

word count : 0.7 k

requested ? no

a/n : i am not the least bit ashamed to admit this was slightly inspired by that one ouran host club episode. it is my comfort episode. sue me.

Typically, you're one to enjoy a good Summer storm. You're rather fond of the cozy peace they bring. Especially late at night, when the heavy rain starts to sound like static and lulls you into a deep sleep. Interrupted only by soft rolls of thunder and the occasional blue flickers of lightning.

But the one tonight is far too aggressive for your taste.

The rain is deafening as it continues its onslaught against your poor window. And each startling crash of lightning precedes an even louder boom that shakes the room. Rattling picture frames that hang delicately on the walls.

You won't be sleeping tonight. That's for sure.

Anxiety wraps its nimble fingers around your heart and squeezes with each subsequent lighting strike. Digging its claws deeper and deeper until you can't take it anymore.

Your comforter is quickly tossed to the side, skin exposed to the chilly night air in your desperate escape. You tiptoe your way to the living room, searching for the giant scaredy-cat you know is likely up calming his own nerves.

And sure enough, there he is.

Cuddled up on the couch with the fuzziest blanket he owns draped over his shoulders. He's mindlessly acrolling through his phone with his headphones on at full volume. You can just barely make out the faint song playing through them.

You creep up slowly so as not to spook him, though it doesn't do much good. Mingi still flinches as soon as your shadow casts across the room with yet another flash from outside. Whipping his head around so fast you're surprised he doesn't get whiplash. But he quickly recovers, laughing at himself once he realizes it's just you.

He slips off his headphones and lets them hang from around his neck. "Storm keeping you up?"

"Yeah."

"I thought you liked storms," he frowns.

"I do, this one's just a little..."

Mingi hums. "I get it. Come, sit." He pats the open spot beside him and you sit. His arm wraps around your shoulder, enveloping you into his blanket cocoon and pulling you in until you're smooshed against his side.

"Did the storm spook you too?" You ask, resting your head on the junction of his neck.

"Pfft, no, I like being awake–"

A giant crack of lightning strikes the pavement outside a little too close for comfort and startles the both of you. Mingi even lets loose a sharp string of curses. It makes you giggle, which unwinds the knot in your stomach just enough to tease your boyfriend.

"You were saying?"

But then the power flickers as the wind picks up and you're eating your words. Tensing at the near-instant karma for teasing Mingi. The wind is the worst part, in your opinion. You hate how it howls and bellows as it whips around the corners of your home. It echoes through your head, sending you into a spiral of anxiety. Heart racing so fast you can feel its pulse in every limb.

Until suddenly, it all stops. Muted by calming tunes blasting through the headphones placed over your ears.

You glance up at Mingi, pulling one side back. "Are you sure you don't need them?"

"No, I'll be okay. Besides, I'm your big strong boyfriend, it's my job to take care of you." Mingi puffs his chest, looking rather proud of his heroic act.

"You're such a dork."

He just smiles and shakes his head at your comment. Then taps through his playlist to find music he knows you like. "Just try to get some sleep," he says as he readjusts the headphones and presses a long kiss to your temple.

To his credit, the headphones do a wonderful job of blocking out the storm. You wouldn't even know it was still ongoing if it weren't for the way Mingi jumps up every so often. Completely defenseless against the rampage outside now that you've taken his only protection. And even though each time you look at him, he reassures you with a tight smile, you know he's dying a little on the inside with each boom of thunder.

So, eventually, you coax him to lie down and tuck his head to your chest, holding him with your arm pressed over his ear. He hums when your fingers slowly toy with his hair, the vibration of it tickling your skin. Within seconds, he's fully melted into you. The both of you slipping into a slumber with the storm now nothing but background noise.

taglist: @dontwannaexsist

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twice-inamillion · 1 year ago

Text

The Company

Recruitment

Light smut and Story Building

Chapter 7

1,360 Words

(You take Jennie’s opinion into consideration and look for a reliable flight attendant. Some important decisions are made for the future of the company and a possible recruitment of someone special.)

A few days have passed since you and Jennie fucked for the first time. The morning after, Jennie complained of soreness from your length and how wide you stretched her, “Daddy, I don’t think I’m going to be able to walk correctly for the next few days. Is it okay if I take a day or two off?”

You smile at Jennie and smack her ass, “Sure. You can tell your members you have a stomach bug, and I’ll let the coach know the group will take a break from practice.

“Thanks, Daddy,” giving you a hug.

The first thing she did after recuperating was text you early in the morning, “Daddy, I’m all better now. How about going another round?”

You message her back, “It’s 6 in the morning, and you’re thinking about sex?”

“Yes, these past two days, I couldn’t think about anything besides your big cock stretching my small pussy.”

“Okay, how about tonight?”

“Actually, I’m outside your door, hehe”

You roll your eyes, get up from bed, walk towards the door, and check the screen, “Daddy, open up.” Jennie immediately lunges herself at you after you open the door, “Daddy, I missed you!”

“I missed you too, but you’re up so early.”

“It’s the only time I can sneak out without the members noticing.”

You smirk at her and say, “You’re a bad girl. Daddy needs to punish you for sneaking out.”

Jennie smiles, and your comment, “Daddy needs to punish me with his big cock. He should fuck me roughly and pump me with cum.”

You don’t even respond and instead, pick her up, walk towards the guest room, and toss her onto the bed.

The two of you fuck until eight in the morning, showering together and having a light breakfast. “What are you reading there?”

“Just some resumes. I just purchased an airplane and am now looking for a flight attendant. These are some resumes I got sent over by one of my assistants.”

Jennie looks over your shoulder at the various applicants' pictures, “Oh, she looks pretty,” she says as she gets one of the applications.

“You think so?”

“Yeah, you can see it in her eyes.”

“Hmm… you might be right.”

“What about hiring Jisoo��s sister? She’s about to graduate from flight attendant school.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, she’s really pretty. With her pale white skin and nice body, she might be your type.”

“Do you have a picture of her?”

Jennie pulls out her phone and scrolls through her photo album of Jisoo with her sister, “Here, take a look.”

“Wow, she's beautiful.”

“Right? You should hire her. Did you know that many flight attendants struggle to find work because it's a competitive field?”

“No, I didn’t know. Maybe I’ll let one of my assistants contact her.”

“I’ll ask Jisoo about it and let you know.”

“Thanks.”

——————

“Sir, Bang Si-hyuk replied back.”

“What did he say?”

“He said that he accepts your offer and is more than happy to partner with us.”

“Good, get the paperwork ready so we can have a final meeting. Also, tell him that I want to invest in his boy group, the one with the seven members.”

“Yes, I’ll get right on it.”

“What about Park Jin-young?”

He replied too, but asked for a bit more funding.”

“How much does he want?”

“About ten or fifteen percent more.”

“Haha, that man is greedy.”

“He is, sir; what do you want me to reply?”

“Tell him that I’ll accept, but I want the full transfer of his upcoming girl group to our site and any other female trainee in the future. I’ll send you more information.

“Thank you, sir.”

——————

A few weeks went by since Jennie mentioned Jisoo’s sister, the flight attendant. After giving it some thought, you considered her opinion and asked one of your hiring assistants to look into hiring Jisoo’s sister. Luckily, she was easy to get in touch with after getting the information from Jennie.

“Hello, my name is Kim Ji-Yoon. I’ll be your flight hostess starting today,” she said as she bowed.

“Nice to meet you. Take a seat.”

Ji-yoon takes the seat across from you, and IU goes over the contract. “You will be a salaried worker. Here is the amount of money the company is offering,” sliding the piece of paper towards her.

Ji-yoon opened it, and her eyes widened. “Are you sure? This is a lot of money, much more than what they pay someone who’s working in the business for years.”

You respond, “Yes, I want to ensure you are rewarded nicely and expect your utmost discretion. You’re also Jisoo’s older sister, so I wanted to do something nice.”

“Thank you so much. I will do my best not to disappoint you.”

“I’m sure you won’t. Also, our first trip is going to be in a couple of days, so I hope you’re ready.”

“That's great, sir; where will we be going?”

“Japan.”

—————

“We will be landing in Japan shortly, sir.”

“Thank you, Ji-Yoon.”

“Would you like to drink?”

“I’m fine, thank you, though.”

“My pleasure,” she said, and she made her way to the attendant area on the plane.

You watch as she walks down the passage, her nice-length skirt giving you a glaze at her toned thighs, “Damn, what a view.”

The purpose of today is to visit and hopefully recruit a potential trainee after getting a couple of letters of recommendation from a dance studio. The head choreographer linked the company's recruitment account to multiple videos of their student. She praised her students' stage performance and talent, suggesting that someone visit and see them in person.

The recruiters watched the videos were attached and gave you an idea of what to focus on after watching. You watch each video multiple times and can’t help but be amazed by her beauty and elegance. The way she performs is something that many people can imitate unless they’re a natural.

After settling down at your hotel, you get in contact with the head choreographer and let them know that you will be arriving later that day. She thanks you for visiting and the opportunity to see one of her students.

You arrived at the location before opening and were given a studio tour. Walking around, see the pictures of all the trainees, “Is this one her?” as you point at the photo.

“Yes, that’s her.”

“Okay, nice to know.”

“She’ll be coming to the studio in about twenty minutes.”

“You seem nervous.”

“I am. She’s been with us for so long; we know that she can do much more out there.”

“You seem to care for her a lot.”

“Yes, which is why I emailed the company so you can see for yourselves.”

The person arrives twenty minutes later and sets their bag before entering the changing room. They come out in sweats and t-shirts and walk toward the center of the room before playing the starting the music. You hear the song begin, focusing on their dance movements and expressions.

You watch her dance to various types of music, but the one that caught your attention was when she danced ballet. The way she presented herself and moved with such elegance was heartwarming. You know that you needed to recruit her at all costs.

The music stops, and you slowly walk out of the office and greet both the choreographer and the dancer. “That was amazing. Great job.”

The dancer bows, “Thank you so much for your compliment.”

“No, no, you deserve it.”

You see her get shy and play with her fingers from the attention. The choreographer steps in and says, as she points at you, “This is the person I told you about. He’s from Olympus Entertainment and came to see you perform.”

She bows and says, “Thank you for visiting us. I’m Myoui Mina. It's nice to meet you.”

#kpop smut #kpop fluff #kpop male reader #kpop reader #kpop x reader #kpop idol smut #idol x male reader #reader x idol #idol x reader #TM smut

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dancinglikebutterflywings · 7 months ago

Text

8:30pm | Kim Hongjoong

-> Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x Maddox Sister!Reader

-> Request: From this Anon. Sorry it took a while.

-> Synopsis: After her brother asks her to bring him some food, Y/N decides to also bring food to her boyfriend.

-> Warnings: None.

-> Word Count: 449

-> Requests: Closed. I will make a post when they are open again.

Hongjoong Masterlist | ATEEZ Masterlist

©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy/modify/repost anywhere. Likes, comments & reblogs are welcomed and appreciated, thank you.

Before Y/N could knock on the studio door, it suddenly swings open and there stands Hongjoong. She greets him with a smile, showing the bag of food she brought along with her. Maddox, her brother, had asked if she could pick up some food for him, so she decided to bring some for her boyfriend as well, knowing he’s been working in the studio all day without a break.

Upon seeing the food, Hongjoong's stomach growls loudly, making his cheeks turn a bright shade of red. Embarrassed, he quickly usher's Y/N inside the studio.

“You didn’t have to bring me food. I was about to go get me something to eat,” he tells her as they settle down on the couch.

“Maddox asked me to bring him some so I thought I would bring you some too,” Y/N assures him as she unpacks the food.

Grateful for having such a considerate girlfriend, Hongjoong gives her a quick peck on the lips before digging into the food.

After finishing their food, Hongjoong helps her clean up the empty containers and puts them back in the bag. As Y/N gets up to throw them away, he stops her.

"You can stay," he says, settling back in his chair.

"I’m going to toss this out and then I’ll be back," she says picking up the bag of rubbish and exits the room. She disposes the bag down the trash chute and quickly returns to the studio only to find Hongjoong already immersed in the song he had been working on earlier.

A couple hours pass quickly as Y/N watches him work, him giving her little sneak peaks and even asking for her opinion a few times. She finds his dedication to his music is truly inspiring. She admires how he pours his heart and soul into every beat and lyric, making her feel privileged to witness his creative process.

When it was time to call it a day, Hongjoong turns to Y/N about to ask her if she’s ready to go only to find her curled up asleep on the couch. Not wanting to wake her up, but knowing he has to, he gently nudges her. Her eyes flutter open and she offers him a sleepy smile and an apology.

"Is it time to go home?" she asks noticing his bag slung over his shoulder and all his equipment is shut off.

Hongjoong nods and helps her gather her things and before they head out together.

“Thank you for coming and bringing food,” he thanks her as they exit the building and make their way to his car.

"No problem, I always enjoy spending time with you," she replies with a smile.

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amnmesias · 18 days ago

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞

part one

SUMMARY: It's a brand new day at Black Dog Records, and Sirius fights with his inner turmoil about his feelings for you and Remus. Thankfully, Regulus helps out giving him a new perspective.

CW: unrequired poly!wolfstar, part two? remus fluff and once again sirius angst (and yearning). this could be read mostly as fluff, though it gets angsty at the end. fem!reader who wears makeup. sirius pov? background bartylus. minimal y/n use. no war au.

A/N: part two is up! i know i said it would take a while but after posting the first part i was weirdly very into it... this series is slowly taking shape i fear. though i only post it to have an outlet, likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated <3 enjoy! xx

“Oh, piss off with that nonsense.”

You gasp. “You take that back right this moment, Sirius Black!” You get up from the worn out stool, your sparkly blue eyeshadow glistening under the lights. “If you’re not willing to see past the experimental essence of this record, Godric help me, I will ban you from this shop! I don’t care if you're the owner!”

Evidently, Sirius is not one to back down from a challenge, and riling you up has proved to be one of his favorite ones, and one with the most fructiferous outcomes. He leans back, staring at you and miserably failing at hiding his smile.

“I see your point,” He starts, words slow and careful as to not annoy you before getting his point across. “Shine a Little Love, good album opener, Last Train to London? Great even, but I can’t help but feel like I’m listening to washed up disco.”

“Washed up disco!” The magazine in your hands is fully tossed aside. It seems a losing battle to not keep his smile in place, and you seem to notice as your eyes meticulously scan his face. “You’re insufferable.”

“Yeah, well,” He shrugs, picking up your now poor forgotten magazine. He looks up at you, “And you’re very predictable, love. You should know better than to take my opinions seriously this early in the morning.”

At this, you smile at him, snatching the magazine from his hand. “You’re lucky you’re my boss, or I would’ve stuck this up your arse one opinion ago.”

“Oi, I’m not your boss.”

“You’re not?”

“Not talking to you, Reg.” Sirius just barely manages to find strength to not roll his eyes at his brother, who surely, definitely, would stick the magazine up his arse. “Weren’t you on your break?”

“It’s barely 9:30.” Regulus sighs, like talking to Sirius seems to be an incredibly difficult task.

“Well…” Sirius’ grey eyes travel over the shop, “Go shelve those away, or find something else to do and stop eavesdropping.”

“Sirius,” You chide, though Regulus only rolls his eyes and walks back into the storage room. Clearly not in the mood to put up with his brother’s antagonistic schemes. Just in time, a customer walks in. “Merlin, you really are insufferable.” You bite before turning to the young girl with a smile. “Good day!”

“Hi… Um, I was told you have the latest Electric Light Orchestra?”

Sirius wishes he could quell the butterflies in his stomach at the sight of your wide smile at her question. You turn to him with a smirk and wiggle your eyebrows.

“Yes, in fact we do! Here,” You leave your place at the counter, the girl following you as you move through the rows of records. “Did you know that…”

He watches you go on about this and that, making points here and there that the girl clearly can’t follow or is too distracted to understand, but you won’t be deterred, and Sirius’ heart thrums in his chest, an ache that he has grown familiar with since that fateful morning at your flat. Neither you nor Remus seem aware that he was in your apartment that morning, and if you do, you seem very determined to act like nothing has changed between you both, either. He doesn’t get it, really. If he had either of you, he would make it the entire Wizengamot’s business.

“What do you think, Sirius?” You ask, abruptly pulling him out of his thoughts. He blinks, suddenly finding you and the girl in front of him.

“Huh?” You’re watching him with a bemused eyebrow raise, the corners of your lips tugged in a sideways smirk that is starting to irritate him. “What do I think about what?”

“I said,” You start, a glint of mischief in your eyes. “Discovery is probably their best work yet, don’t you agree?”

“Oh, yes.” He nods resolutely, the girl hugs the record closer to her chest, as if either of you have changed your minds and will take it away from her. “The very best.”

You smile, satisfied. “There you go. Only the very best brought to you by Black Dog Records.” He smiles and the girl seems very confused as she walks towards the door. “Thanks for coming! Have a lovely day!” You call out. “Yes! First sale on me, see that, Reggie?”

“That was awful.” Regulus, once again, drawls as he brings out the latest collection he found in Camden, ready to be sorted. “You will end up scaring every person away from this place.”

“This place puts food on your table, Reg. Be nice.”

Regulus scoffs good-naturedly, evidently in a better mood than minutes ago. “Barty puts the food on my table, all I have to do is heat it and be a good boy.” He winks at you both.

Sirius grimaces. “Freak.”

“You started it.”

Black Dog Records is a somewhat popular record shop Sirius opened with the help of his uncle, first it was to make his family recoil with disgust at the use of the Black money in something as scandalous as music, but then it became his second home where he would find answers with his favorite songs. One very rainy day, he got into a very heated discussion with Regulus and, in very Sirius fashion, stormed off his own apartment to find distraction in a walk under the rain. He was feeling very pathetic and a little sorry for himself when he walked past the building, and something about it lured him in. He walked back home with a purpose, a detailed apology for his brother and an even more detailed business plan. The support from his group of friends and uncle was almost immediate, and soon he found himself with Regulus in front of the shop with their joint record collection and a very determined mission.

You came along somewhere in the middle of that, you were just about to quit your very monotonous and boring post at the Ministry when the shop officially opened. You would come nearly every day during noon with Marlene to spend your free hour and weekends chatting away with the Black brothers, eventually being mistaken as a worker whenever someone asked you for a specific artist or album. Sirius, and a very reluctant Regulus (obviously faked, he secretly worshiped the ground you walked on for helping Sirius at the lowest points of his life) talked over it consistently, and after much deliberation, you were hired as a part-time worker. It worked wonderfully because you seemed to have a big weight lifted out of your shoulders by the distraction and Sirius knew you would give his mummy dearest something close to a heart attack if she ever dared to set foot in the shop.

The bell chimes and you turn to greet the new customer, determined to claim the most sales of the day, but your smile widens as you spot Remus’ tall figure walking in, two plastic cups in his hands.

“Hi, Remus!” You seem to debate whether to walk over to him, or hug him, you settle for a tiny wave. But your smile alone is a beautiful enough greeting. Remus decides that simply won’t do, and gives you a very friendly kiss on the crown of your hair. “Good morning.”

“Hiya, Moons.” Sirius says, channeling all his strength to appear nonchalant. “What brings you here, say, this early in the morning?”

“It’s barely 9:30.” Repeats Regulus, somewhere deep in the shop, still sorting through his box of records.

“Yeah, whatever, what’s that saying?”

Remus cocks an eyebrow as he passes you your own cup. “Semantics?”

“Right!” He points, trying to look somewhere that wasn’t Remus’ lovestruck smile as you sip on your coffee. “Semantics. What are you doing here, again?”

“Wow, Pads… Is this how you treat all your customers? No wonder sales are so low lately.” He looks around, you nudge him with your elbow and his serious facade breaks in a smile. “Well, had it not been for dovey here…” He pulls you to his side, and you do everything to hide the blush in your cheeks.

“She sells because her selling strategy is holding customers hostage with facts until they buy the record.” Regulus points out, you roll your eyes good-naturedly at him. “I hardly think those sales count.”

“They absolutely bloody count!” You say, then turn to Sirius who had been shamelessly eyeing you and Remus, to his credit, you seem very confident in your point to notice it. “Sirius, tell your brother my sales are valid.”

He splutters, trying to ignore Remus’ curious eyes, but he recovers quickly. “Reg, just because you’re a creepy bloke and scare everyone into buying your weird albums, doesn’t mean (Y/N)’s tactic is less valid.”

“Thank you very much, Sirius,” You bow your head, Sirius’ smile is fighting full time to stay in place. “This is why you’re my favorite boss.”

“Oi, I’m telling Bagnold about this.”

“I don’t see why not, so she could give her a raise.” Remus points out, frowning at the thought of the endless stress induced nights they have been witness to. He gives your arm a playful squeeze, “In fact, I think we should appoint you as the new minister.”

You laughed loudly. “Oh, totally. My first order of business will be introducing muggle music to the Hogwarts education plan.”

“Yes, that way we can scare mother away from Britain.” Regulus chuckles dryly, and Sirius claps.

“Well, I like the sound of that!” He turns to you, “Consider me your biggest sponsor.”

“Insane. All of you.” You shake your head, your giggles making the three men smile. “Right, as much as I’d like to stay and plan my debut as a politician, Remus and I actually are going to muggle London.”

“You do?” Sirius echoes, suddenly acutely aware of your pretty clothes and even prettier make up.

With a sinking feeling, he realizes you came all dolled up for your date with Remus and not for him.

“I’m sorry, I promise I’ll come early tomorrow and rearrange the entire country section.” You plead, unnecessary, in Sirius’ opinion, because you would ask him to kill an unicorn and he’d do it with no questions asked. “There’s this new band releasing their debut album and I promised Remus I would come with him. And before you say anything, I will bring a few copies to sell, please?”

Sirius’ brain barely registers your words, and nods mutely. Regulus rolls his eyes and pats his shoulder in consolation. “It’s alright, no need to torture yourself with the whole country section. I’m sure we will come up with a better punishment.”

You smile and jump to kiss both boys’ cheeks and lean over the counter to take your bag. Sirius very pointedly tries to look everywhere but your pretty legs, he meets a worse fate, meeting Remus’ eyes. The boy sends him a wink and Sirius feels heat taking over his cheeks and neck.

“Ready to go?” You turn to Remus, who breaks eye contact with Sirius to smile down at you. He nods and you both wave before turning to the door.

Sirius exhales deeply as he watches you both walk away through the window, Remus putting his arm around your shoulders to pull you towards him. Your kiss wonky as you smile up at him, giddiness and excitement in both of your faces. He watches until you get lost in the crowd and he can no longer see Remus over everyone’s head, he ignores the ache in his chest as he turns, only to meet a pair of grey eyes identical to his looking at him with something akin to pity.

“Stop looking at me like I’m the last dog at the shelter.”

Regulus snorts, then raises his hands in surrender. “You said it, not me.”

“Don’t you have something else to do that isn’t giving unnecessary commentary about my love life?”

“None of that is as entertaining, I don’t think…” He trails off, returning to his work. Sirius scowls at him.

“I’m glad my pain entertains you.”

“It is entertaining because it could’ve been easily avoided had you stopped being a daft git ages ago.” He nods towards the door, his eyes not leaving the sleeve in his hands as he inspects it meticulously. “That poor girl has been in love with you both since year 4 and you can’t really blame Remus for jumping at the chance of being with her after putting up with your mixed signals for years.”

“What?”

“Smart man, that Lupin. Sadly, I am a raging homosexual, otherwise I would’ve already swept that lovely girl away from you both.” He continues, ignoring the stammers coming from his brother’s mouth. He looks at Sirius, who in return stares at him with shock, “Please tell me you at least noticed.”

“How could I notice!?” He manages to get out, his heart probably one beat away from jumping out of his chest. “Not sure if you remember but Remus hated my guts for about two consecutive terms. And her, well… I really can’t blame her for supporting him, can’t I?”

“Oh… so you are daft. Good to know, I had my suspicions but thank you for clearing it up.”

“Reg, I’m not in the mood for your bloody mind games.”

The boy shakes his head, a disbelieving look in his eyes as he finally turns to Sirius.

“Mind games? If you want to talk about mind games let me just tell you, those… Those two have been victims of your mind games since school and you have been nothing but blind and insensitive towards their feelings, seeking their attention one day and turning a blind eye to their advances the next day,” Regulus says, ending each sentence with a point to Sirius’ chest, who frowns in return, “Don’t come here acting like a sodding cry baby just because you missed your chance. So please, do something about it or shut the fuck up already!” He exhales deeply, finally breathing properly, and bringing a hand to his hair. He steps back, looking at Sirius with a mix of shock and regret. “Sorry, don’t know what happened there.”

Sirius lets out a disbelieving breath, massaging his sternum, “Yeah, me neither. Didn’t know you had it in you, mate.”

“Just…” Regulus sighs, realizing Sirius is in fact not going to take him seriously, at all. He moves away to take the now empty records box to the storage room. “Just think about it, please? Contrary to what you might think, I want you to be happy, or… at least not hurting, or whatever this is.”

Sirius watches him go, something akin to despair in his heart as he ponders on what his brother told him. He looks back to the door you and Remus walked through minutes ago; maybe… maybe he still has some fight left in him. If you and Remus are willing to have him, he’s going to fight with every fiber of his body to give you the love you both desperately seeked with each other, all because he was emotionally unable to provide it for them. Regulus will eat his words, and everyone else, he’s going to love you so hard, Remus will finally feel loved enough to accept the wolf within himself, and you will finally learn what real, true love and devotion is, he will love you so hard you will forget all the pain you have gone through in the past. Right there, on a randomly sunny day, Sirius decides he will love you and Remus hard enough that his own scars will heal and leave no trace behind.

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ashwhowrites · 8 months ago

Note

Smut prompt 30 with Dom Robin, please?

Where Robin basically worships reader's big boobs and so she sucks them SO hard, and basically do nipple orgasm with reader?

"I don't want anyone else. No one else can make me feel like you do"

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

(•)(•) Love

Y/N and Robin were in that stage where they were madly obsessed with each other. Y/N was the more quiet and shy one in the relationship. She wasn't used to being seen as sexy and the feeling of being desired. Robin talked...a lot, and was not shy of her opinions. If there was something she liked about her girlfriend, Y/N knew.

Which is why Y/N knew that Robin worshiped her boobs. Robin got lost in how soft they felt, memorized by the way her nipples hardened, and how big her boobs were. Robin wouldn't lie, Y/N's boobs were her favorite place to focus on during sex. Robin loved them in all positions. When Y/N is under Robin, her back is arched so her perfect round boobs were right against Robin's chest. Or when she was on top, bouncing and Robin's eyes locked on them.

But Robin was not the only person who admired Y/N's nice chest in everything she wore. Boys will be boys, and boys will stare right at her.

~~~

Robin and the gang arrived at the pool. Dustin, Mike, and Lucas excitedly stripping off their shirts and diving into the pool. Steve grabbed their shirts and brought them to the spot Robin had claimed.

"These kids never clean up after themselves" Steve groaned, tossing the shirts on an empty chair

"Oh Mom, let kids be kids" Eddie teased, stripping his shirt and adding it to the pile

Steve rolled his eyes but let the comment go, adding his shirt to the pile

Robin slipped out of her tank top, the warm sun soaking into her freckled skin. She felt eyes on her, cheekily turning to her girlfriend who sat on a free chair. When Robin's bright blue eyes met hers she quickly looked away.

"Already caught you, princess," she teased, loving the way Y/N got shy and tried to hide her face in her hands. "Wanna sunscreen me up?"

Robin smirked as Y/N stood up and eagerly grabbed the sunscreen. Robin was known to run the ship in many friendships. Look at her and Steve, Robin's way was always the right way. Robin enjoyed having that same power over her shy little girlfriend.

Robin moaned to herself as Y/N rubbed the cold sunscreen into her skin. Robin tried to keep her thoughts clean as she felt Y/N's fingers sliding under her swimsuit straps.

"I think I'm turned on," Eddie said as he laid back on his pool chair, arms behind his head and sunglasses covering his eyes

"You're a pig, Eddie" Robin sassed, but she knew Eddie meant no harm

"Come on Rob, I need someone to do me" he pushed up his glasses so he could wink at the two girls

"Ask Steve" Robin argued

"No thank you" Steve laughed as he rubbed the sunscreen over his hairy chest

After Robin was covered in lotion, she turned to her girlfriend. Y/N was still wearing her shirt and shorts.

"Need help?" Robin flirted, her hands on Y/N's stomach as she slowly moved down to her shorts

Y/N squeaked and gave Robin a look, "there are children here" she said as she swatted away her hands

"Yeah yeah, but come on, you can't swim with all those clothes" Robin teased

Y/N took off her shorts, and then her top.

Robin's eyes latched on the exposed skin of her girlfriend. Blue eyes focused on the way Y/N's boobs were barely held together from the thin bikini top.

Of course, Robin wasn't the only one to notice. Eddie and Steve tried to sneak subtle glances over, looking more than once. Steve wanted to be respectful of his best friend's girlfriend so he quickly left the situation.

Robin applied the sunscreen on her girlfriend, not shying away from rubbing it all over her chest

Robin tried to keep her jealousy in check as every boy turned his head to watch her girlfriend walk by. She knew with a sexy girlfriend times like this would happen.

Robin was glad the pool day was over and they were back at Robin's. She could have her girlfriend to herself.

"Cannot wait to wash the pool off of me" Y/N said as they walked into Robin's house. Robin agreed and they both made their way to the shower.

They helped each other strip naked, stealing kisses as they waited for the water to warm up. Y/N shivered as Robin's hands moved over her body, teasing her as she skimmed closer to Y/N's cunt. But she backed away, smirking as she walked into the shower

Y/N caught her breath and joined. She slipped behind Robin and kissed her back.

Y/N hummed as she soaped Robin's body and washed out her hair, trying to ignore how turned-on she felt from being wet and naked with her girlfriend.

They swapped places, and Robin rubbed the soap into Y/N's skin. She turned her around, face to face as she softly pressed her lips against Y/N's.

The kiss got heated as Robin let her hands wander and slip inside Y/N's cunt. Y/N purred in Robin's ear as she clenched around her. Robin pushed her against the wall, her mouth making its way down to her chest.

Robin softly fingered her as her lips kissed Y/N's left breast. She kissed all around the skin

Then she softly sucked the top of the skin, then the left, then the right. She sucked hard, the skin sucked inside her mouth. She moaned as she sucked as hard as she could.

She pulled back, admiring where the start of marks formed. Then she moved to the other breast, giving it the same attention. Robin's fingers knuckle deep as Y/N panted.

"Fuck Rob" she moaned

Robin hummed around her skin, smirking as she moved to wrap her mouth around Y/N's wet nipple. Robin bit her nipple softly, loving the way Y/N gasped and arched her back. She sucked softly on her nipple, almost like she was wishing for something to leak out. Y/N whined as Robin's warm tongue swirled around her nipple. Her cunt was empty as Robin moved her hand to play with Y/N's ignored breast.

One mouth on the other and her fingers pulling the other. Y/N felt like her brain was melted as she tried to stand on her feet.

Robin pulled back from her breast with her teeth, watching as her nipple stretched out until she let it go, watching as it smacked into place. Then she moved to the other one, sucking the nipple as she did with the right.

Robin used her fingers to pinch Y/N's nipple as her mouth sucked on the other one. Once again sucking it so hard. Then she bit down on it, and Y/N hissed as the pain traveled throughout her body.

"Rob, please finger me. I want to cum" she begged, her words heavy as she panted.

"You can cum, but not because of my fingers," Robin said as she released Y/N's nipple. Now using both hands to massage the skin

"What?" Y/N whined, her brain too fucked out to understand what was going on. Her cunt pulsed and that was all she could focus on.

"I'm going to make you cum just from this, you can do it for me. I know my pretty girl can," Robin cooed, rubbing Y/N's nipples with her thumb and pointer fingers

"Robbbbbbbbbb" she whined, throwing her head back as she bucked her hips forward. But Robin ignored it

"That's it, gonna cum for me?" Robin whispered, her husky voice made Y/N whimper and nod

Robin pinched and twisted both nipples at the same time, watching as Y/N's jaw fell open and a silent scream left her lips

"That's my good girl" Robin praised

"I don't want anyone else. No one else can make me feel like you do" Y/N sighed, a fucked out smile on her face

#robin buckley x reader fluff #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley fic #robin buckley #Robin Buckley smut #robin buckley smut x female reader #ashwhowrites #robin buckley requests

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lustfulslxt · 1 year ago

Note

Dom!Chris makes his girl wear one of those vibrators that’s controlled by an app while they’re in public and tells her any noise she lets slip out is an extra spanking she gets while she’s bent over his lap later 🤭

Trouble - Chris Sturniolo

warnings : dirty dirty nsfw, dom!chris, spanking, use of toys

—

“We have to get it!” Chris exclaims, shoving the item in my face.

I can’t help the chuckle that emits from my mouth as I push his arm away, so that I can actually see what he’s holding. As I’m reading it, he impatiently shuffles on his feet.

“Come on, you’ll love it!” He whines, trying to convince me.

That’s when I realize it’s a vibrator that you can sync to your phone through the We-Vibe app, and control the settings that way. My face heats up at his comment, suggesting that I would love it, because he’s absolutely right.

“I don’t know.” I say, pretending to be unsure.

“Oh, please! This would bring you to your knees for me.” He taunts, his lips curving into a smirk.

My eyes go wide and I turn my head to the side, avoiding his gaze for a split second. When I look forward, I see him looking at me with a proud smile on his face as he nods his head.

“Yep! We’re getting it.” He states, walking to the register with it.

Biting my bottom lip to prevent my lips from growing into a wide smile, I follow behind him, giddy and excited for what’s to come. We get to the register, and Chris hands the box to the cashier with that same smile on his face, a smile of accomplishment. He turns to look at me, sending me a quick wink that lights my insides on fire. He doesn’t have to do much of anything at all, I’m always ready and eager for him.

Chris pays and grabs the now bagged box, tossing an arm around me and pulling me into him. “Let’s go, lover.”

We get out to the car and Chris instantly opens the door for me, planting a kiss on my cheek before closing my door and happily skipping to his side. He gets behind the wheel, reaching back to set the bag on the backseat.

“I cannot wait to use this on you.” He grins, starting the car up.

I watch as he puts the gear in reverse, then places his arm behind my seat and looks back to watch as we pull out of our parking spot. He notices me staring and a smirk pulls to his lips as he puts the car in drive and starts our trip home.

“You’re so cute, I love you.” He smiles, placing his right hand on my thigh as he holds the wheel with his left.

“I love you more.” I say, softly rubbing his hand on my thigh, before pulling my phone out to begin our music playlist.

Chris and I have been together for almost three years, and it’s been nothing short of amazing. He’s always been good to me, and we hardly ever seriously fight, but if we do, he’s quick to make things right before we end the day. He’s very loving and it shows through all of his gestures; gifts, compliments, the way he speaks of me to others, the way he talks to me, how he touches me.

Don’t get me wrong, he can be a real sweetheart in the bedroom; gentle with his touch, sweet talking me, never pushing me to my limits. Other times, he’s a nasty freak. I love both versions of him, in my opinion, it’s a perfect mix. He gives me whatever I need, whenever I need it. If I need soft Chris, he’s exactly that, making love to me in such a sensual way. If I need hard Chris, he’s exactly that, fucking me dumb until I can’t take it anymore.

I just know, with this new toy we got, I’m getting the freak tonight, and I can’t be more thrilled.

“Baby, do you want to go to dinner tonight?” Chris asks, turning down our street. “Nick asked me earlier, and I just remembered.”

“Oh, sure.” I respond, “What time?”

“I think he said around six, but I’ll have to double check to make sure.”

“Sounds good.” I smile at him.

I look at the time on my phone and see that it says 2:12, which gives me enough time to possibly take a nap before having to get ready. I don’t need to do much but shower, get dressed, and maybe a light makeup look, so I could definitely squeeze in a two hour nap.

“Can we take a nap when we get in?” I ask him as we pull into the driveway, “Before dinner.”

“Already planned on it, baby.” He grins at me, shutting the car off once we enter the garage.

He grabs the bag from the back and gets out of the car, quickly walking over to my side, opening the door for me. Grabbing my hand, he helps me out and shuts the door for me. Before he can walk us inside, I stop in my tracks, causing him to halt and expectantly look at me.

“What’s up?” He asks.

I grab his cheeks and pull him into me, placing my lips on his, giving him a soft and sweet kiss. Sometimes, I just need to show him I love him, especially when he’s a gentleman.

“You’re the best, let’s go.” I smile to him, pulling him to the door.

He smiles back at me, squeezing my hand in return and following in suit. We get inside and immediately head over to our room. Chris places the bag on his dresser, both of us kicking off our shoes. I instantly jump in bed, sprawling out beneath the blankets, Chris repeating my actions.

I flip onto my side, him pulling against me, our bodies meeting to create a much appreciated warmth. His arm rests around me, his hand up my shirt and holding my breast. My body’s firmly pressed against his, his breath hitting my neck as he pulls me impossibly closer. I scoot back, pressing my ass against his crotch, very slightly shifting to tease him just a bit. It doesn’t take long at all before I can feel his dick stiffening behind me, poking into my cheek.

“Y/N, what do you think you’re doing?” Chris asks in a warning tone.

“Napping?” I retort, feigning confusion as if it were nothing but obvious.

“Don’t play with me, or we’ll skip dinner and I’ll fuck you into tomorrow.” He whispers in my ear, his hand tightening around my boob.

Chris has always been able to see right through me, whatever it is, he can read me like a book. There was no hiding anything from him, he knows me like the back of his hand.

“That actually sounds more appetizing than dinner.” I whisper back, pushing my lower half into his even harder.

In one swift motion, he flips me onto my back and is hovering over me. His right knee is placed in between my legs, as his other leg straddles mine, his erection sitting directly on my thigh. Both of his hands are set on the sides of my head as he holds himself upright, staring down at me. His lips faintly brush against mine, but pull away before I can capture them in a kiss. He drags them across my cheek, leaving my skin beneath him tingling.

He makes his way toward my ear, kissing right below it and pressing a few kisses on my neck. I can’t help my heavy breathing at this point, he always knew what got to me. His mouth reaches my ear once again and he plants a wet kiss onto it. I feel his tongue run across my earlobe before his mouth wraps around it, sucking softly, eliciting a soft moan from my lips. Suddenly, his hand grips my jaw and he slams his mouth on mine, shoving his tongue in my mouth as he kisses me deeply.

“Be a good girl for me tonight, and I’ll give you everything you want and more.” He says once he pulls away.

I’m physically incapable of saying anything as he repositions us once more, now laying behind me again. I can’t help but feel his hard on pressed into me, and I want nothing more than to take him right now. I can practically feel his smirk against my neck, already knowing he feels proud for getting me worked up. He never fails to leave me stuck stupid, anticipating what’s to come.

—

“Baby, you almost ready?” I hear Chris call out from the bedroom.

Emerging from the bathroom with a sheepish look on my face, I look down to the towel wrapped around me. I literally just got out of the shower, and he wants to know if I’m almost ready.

“Bro.” He deadpans once he takes my appearance in. “I thought you maybe only had lip gloss to put on or something, and here you come, completely wet and naked.”

Despite his complaints, I can see his pupils dilate as his eyes roam my glistening body. He licks his lips at the sight of me, before bringing his hands in front of him, showing me what he’s holding; the vibrator we had bought earlier.

“It’s sanitized and ready for use.” He grins, holding it out for me.

“You wanna use this at dinner?” I ask as I take it from him.

“Yes.” He nods, “Doesn’t it sound exciting? Risking an orgasm while we’re out in public?”

I shyly smile at him, nodding my head in agreement. He pumps his fist in the air, cheering in satisfaction. I just shake my head with a giggle coming from my mouth, then grab my clothes and head into the bathroom. I quickly get dressed and put the vibrator in place, eager to see how the night goes. After exiting the bathroom, I brush my hair and apply products like deodorant, lotion, and perfume. Deciding to skip my makeup, I just slip my shoes and grab my purse, sliding my phone in it.

“I’m ready.” I tell Chris, who’s now scrolling on his phone as he sits on the bed.

He looks up and smiles at me, standing up and placing a kiss on my head. “You look gorgeous, let’s go.”

Once we made it out to the van, Chris and I sat in the back, with Nick and Matt up front. It’s just us four for dinner, and I’m glad because I don’t know how brutal Chris is going to be, and I’d rather not lose my mind in front of a bunch of people.

Nick’s music played throughout the car, faint conversation coming from the two up front. My mind was drifting from them talking, to the music playing, to Chris’ hand rubbing my thigh. Suddenly, I could feel vibrations on my core, emitting a very loud gasp from my mouth.

“Are you good?” Nick asks, eyeing me from the front seat.

I clear my throat and swallow nothing, “Uh, yeah. Sorry.”

I have no excuse to give him, unable to use my brain properly as the vibrations continue rushing through my bundle of nerves. I look at Chris, noticing the wide smirk on his lips as he watches me fidget in my seat. I take in a deep breath, pressing my feet into the floor of the van in an attempt to relieve myself of the pleasure. Luckily, the vibrator stops as Chris pushes my hair out of my ear.

“Any noise you make tonight is an extra spanking you’re getting when I bend you over later.” He mutters into my ear.

My pussy’s actually throbbing, desperate for stimulation, aching for him to be inside of me. I can’t help but squeeze my thighs together, trying to feel any sort of pressure. I want nothing more than for him to bend me over and rail me as we speak, and having to wait for it had me gritting my teeth.

Throughout the rest of the ride, Chris hadn’t turned on the vibrator, letting me drop my guard of course. Once we get out and head into the restaurant, Nick walks ahead of us to speak with the host. Within a minute, we are being directed to our table for the evening.

As soon as I take my seat, the vibrations start back up, causing me to abruptly jerk and let out a small whimper. Of course, Nick and Matt look at me in confusion while Chris tries his best to conceal his growing smile.

I clear my throat again, trying to ignore the sensation coursing through me. “Sorry, cramps.”

The two boys nod, understanding, before their eyes are directed to their menus. I look over at Chris with a glare on my face, which only prompts him to turn the settings higher. I drag my bottom lip into my mouth, biting down hard to prevent any sounds that are threatening to come from my mouth.

“That’s two, baby.” He states, only loud enough for me to hear.

“Two?!” I ask, eyes widening.

“Mhm.” He nods, his smile evident. “Just now, and in the car.”

“That’s so unfair.” I say, pointing out how he started this game after the first slip up.

“Them’s the rules, ma.” He chuckles, adjusting his grip on his phone.

I can’t help but watch closely, unsure of when he was going to stop the vibrator, or turn it up. I’m on the edge of my seat, metaphorically, but also literally. I can’t bring myself to get comfortable, knowing Chris would use it to his advantage.

As the waiter walks over, I can feel the vibrations growing stronger, causing me to tense. I don’t have to see my face to know that it’s deep red, I can actually feel how hot it is. Taking in a deep breath, my hands clutch my thighs, needing something, anything.

“Hello, my name is Noah, and I’ll be your waiter tonight. Can I start you off with some drinks?”

“Root beer, please.”

“I’ll have a Dr. Pepper.”

“Pepsi for me, thank you.”

Everyone looks at me, expectantly, but I can’t even speak. I’m scared my voice will betray me, showing that I was in a pleasurable struggle. I glance at Chris, my eyes begging him.

Instead of turning off the toy, he smiled at the waiter, “She’ll have a Dr. Pepper as well.”

“Okay, I will be back with those shortly and take your order then.”

As soon as he walked away, Matt and Nick turn to each other, then to Chris, then to me.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Matt asks.

Nick continues, “You seem really off.”

Before I can even attempt to spit a word out, the vibrations increased even more, causing my jaw to drop as I deeply inhale. Luckily, just as quick as it came, it all stopped.

“I’m good.” I say, my breath a little erratic.

I can see the two are not convinced, but I really don’t have it in me to make up a story that’ll lead them astray. Fortunately, they drop it and return to their menus once again. Chris’ hand comes in contact with my thigh, rubbing dangerously close to my core, I can feel the heat from his fingers.

“You’re so hot when you struggle to be quiet.” He whispers into my ear.

I ignore him, biting my lip as I attempt to regulate my breathing. We all quickly decide what we want to eat just as the waiter comes back with our drinks. After ordering our food, we dive into different conversations.

“We should get little canvases and paint together.” Nick suggests, smiling at the rest of us.

“That sounds so fun! I love painting.” I agree.

“We could get different types of cartoons or even blank canvases, both would be fun.” Matt adds.

Chris hasn’t said a word, so I look over and see him buried into his phone. As if feeling my gaze, his head lifts up with a devilish grin on his face. Immediately, I feel the buzzing between my legs, more intense than it’s been all night. My eyes shoot open as a lewd moan falls from my mouth, I quickly cover it with an exaggerated cough. Chris shakes his head, tsking me.

My mouth falls open again, silent moans coming from it. Chris continues to knead my thigh, adding to the pleasure that was coursing through me. I can feel the knot build in my stomach, close to unraveling. I lay my head down on the edge of the table and quickly grab Chris’ hand from my leg, using it to muffle the sounds that were sure to leave my mouth. As the pressure continued building, I clench myself around the vibrator, extremely close to letting go. I bring my mouth to his palm, biting at the skin in order to silence the inevitable moans pouring out of me as I can’t help but give into the orgasm, releasing all over as my legs tremble.

“Shame on you, cumming without daddy’s permission. You’re in big trouble when we get home, baby.” Chris says to me, his voice raspy.

“We need to go.” I plead, now extremely aware of the wet mess in my pants.

“Sorry boys, Y/N’s gonna be sick. I think I should bring her home. I’ll cashapp you for the dinner.” Chris announces, standing up and reaching for my hand.

“Feel better.” Nick and Matt say in unison.

With that, Chris is pulling me to the exit of the restaurant. As soon as we make it outside, he’s guiding me to a car that’s parked on the side of the road.

“I ordered an uber. I knew you weren’t gonna make it.” He informs me, sensing my confusion.

We get in the car, immediately starting our journey home. Throughout the whole ride, Chris gets handsy with me; rubbing and touching every part of me. He is just as eager as I am. As soon as the car comes to a stop outside our place, Chris is bidding the driver goodbye and dragging me inside.

We make our way downstairs to our bedroom, shutting and locking the door. Instantly, he has me pinned against it, his lips slamming onto mine in a feverish kiss. One of his hands wraps around my throat, the other diving straight into my pants. He grabs the vibrator, pulling it out and wrapping his mouth around it, sucking my juices off. I can’t help the whimper that leaves my mouth, nothing but turned on by the sight.

He sets the toy on the dresser next to us, his hands now going for my shirt, swiftly removing it with ease. His lips meet mine again, his tongue entering and exploring my mouth. His hands are groping every inch of me, feeling me up and down, causing moans to emit from me. As his mouth works down my neck, his hands go behind me and unbuckle the strap of my bra, letting it fall loosely on my arms before he pulls the entire thing off. His hands find their way to my breasts, squeezing them and tweaking my nipples.

We’re moving in such a fast and hurried pace, hungry for one another. Each of us could only ever be what the other needed in times like this, and right now, we were both insatiable. You would think we’ve been deprived of pleasure like this our whole lives, now finally having a taste and not being able to get enough of it. But that isn’t true. Our sex life has always been more than fulfilling, but there’s something about him that makes me go feral.

His hands unbuckle my jeans, letting me remove them as he takes off his shirt. I’m not left in nothing but my underwear, him in his still in his pants. He slides his finger in the waistband of my panties, tugging it and letting it snap back into place. He raises an eyebrow at me, nodding his head towards my bottoms, indicating he wants me to take them off, so I do.

“Go sit.” He states, intently watching me.

I do as he says, sitting pretty on the edge of the bed, watching his every move. He stands in front of me, his eyes blown out and full of lust as he looks down on me. Remaining eye contact, he slowly begins unbuckling his belt. In such a slow pace, he pulls it from his pants, folding it up and setting it aside. His fingers then grasp the button of his pants, undoing it, all whilst still looking me in my eyes. He lets his pants fall, leaving him in his very restricting boxers, as his dick stands tall, creating a tent in the clothing material.

He steps directly in front of me, his hard on now eye level with me, directly in front of my face. He puts a hand on the back of my head, bringing me closer to his erection. His opposite hand palms himself through his boxers, rubbing his cloth covered member over my lips. Just as I’m about to put my mouth on him, he pushes my head back.

“As much as I want to have your pretty little mouth around my cock, it’s gonna have to be another time.” He says, “You remember how many you’re getting?”

“Three.” I whisper, my breath hitching in anticipation as I stare up at him with doe eyes.

“Four. Doubled because you’re a bad girl and came before I said you could.” He smirks, licking his lips.

His hand wraps around my neck, trailing up to my jaw. He’s directly above me, staring down at me with his hungry eyes as his thumb trails over my bottom lip. He pulls it down, letting the pad of his finger keep it in place.

“Suck.” He states, leaving no room for questions.

I take his finger into my mouth, licking and sucking just as he wanted me too. He’s then pulling me up from the bed, his hand once again around my neck. His lips meet mine in a soft and tender kiss, opposite of how I know he’s going to be in mere seconds. Switching places with me, he’s now against the bed as I stand in front of him. He sits down and pats his lap, aware that we both know that I know the drill. I lay across his lap, my bare ass laid out perfectly, awaiting my punishment.

“You know what to do if you need me to stop?” He asks, his hands palming both cheeks.

“I-I remember.” I nod, my breathing slightly picking up.

“Count. If you fuck up, we start over.” He reminds me, his voice sickly sweet.

Just as I give him a hum of confirmation, his hand strikes down, a loud smack echoing the room, a stinging pain following in suit, as well as a yelp from me.

“One.” I moan out, his hand now rubbing the tingling area.

Another smack.

“Two.”

Another smack.

“Three.”

Another smack.”

“F-four.” I cry out, my skin undoubtedly red.

We repeat the process another four times, time seemingly moving in slow motion until we reach the last spank. My ass now tender and tears falling down my cheeks as he kneaded both cheeks, soothing the pain, eliciting moans from me and a pool of wetness between my thighs.

“Such a good girl for me.” He praises, flipping me around on his lap so I’m now straddling him. “You’re so beautiful, ma. I can’t wait to wreck you.”

With that, his lips are on mine, hungrily kissing me. We move in sync, our lips lapping one another perfectly. His hands continue massaging my ass, the stinging pain dissipating with every motion. A moan escapes my lips and he uses the opportunity to shove his tongue in my mouth, swapping saliva. One of his hands travels in between us, coming down to my heat. His cool fingers come in contact with my clit, rubbing it ever so slightly, causing me to whine into his mouth.

He pulls away from me, lifting me from his lap as he stands. “Bend over.”

I follow his order once again, my torso laid out the bed with my ass on show as my legs hang down to the floor. I hear him shuffling behind me, realizing he’s removing his boxers when I look back. He lifts one of my legs up, giving him better access to me. His fingers find my folds again, running through them, slicking them with my arousal. I moan at the feeling, pushing my ass closer into him for more.

“So wet and needy for daddy.” He smirks, grabbing his dick and placing it at my entrance.

He softly pushes the tip in, rubbing my clit as he does so. He takes it back out, before repeating the same action. Next, he’s slamming into me with no warning. A loud scream falls from my lips, molding into a moan as it dies down. He begins thrusting into me, his pace building quickly, pulling me closer to him so he could fuck me deeper.

He lets out a low groan, “I love the way your pussy welcomes me inside, because it knows we were made for each other.”

“Fuck, daddy, you feel so good.” I moan out, my face immediately scrunching in pleasure.

His takes my hair and puts it in a makeshift ponytail, wrapping it around his hand for leverage, tugging it with every thrust into me. My mouth is hung open, pornographic noises falling from it left and right, unable to contain my pleasure. His strokes increase in speed and strength, my entire body jerking at his new pace.

“Look at you, you’re taking me so well baby.” He moans out, his breathing heavy.

“Mhm.” I whimper in agreement, overwhelmed with pleasure.

“Gonna cum all over my cock, baby?” He asks, his pelvis digging into my ass with every pump.

“Yes, daddy. I’m so close.” I cry out, the familiar knot building in my stomach for the second time tonight.

His free hand reached below me, meeting my clit and rubbing fast, tight circles into it. I was a writhing mess beneath him, unable to form a single thought as he fucks me senseless. With the rough pounding and the stimulation on my clit, I’m in tears. It’s so much, but it feels so good. I can feel the drool falling from my mouth, quite literally being fucked dumb.

“I know you’re close, mama. Let go.” He says, sending me over the edge.

My legs shake and quiver, my fists clenching the sheet beneath me so hard that my knuckles turn white. My face contorts with pleasure as my vision goes white, metaphorical stars spinning around me as I do, in fact, let go. His thrusts continue, never faulting in the slightest. His hand never wavers, still rubbing my extremely sensitive bundle of nerves.

“T-too much.” I cry, not able to come down from my first orgasm.

“You can do it, mama.” He whispers from above me, placing wet kisses along my back.

Him repeatedly hitting my g spot, his fingers working my clit, and his mouth leaving goosebumps down my skin is enough to send me overboard once more. Tears streaming down my face as I cum for the third time, silent moans escaping my mouth as I bury my face into the bed. I can hear him moaning behind me, his hips sputtering as his thrusts fall uneven. Seconds later, his hot load is shooting into me as throaty groans emit from his mouth. He continues fucking his nut into me, his pace now slow and soft, before he pulls out altogether.

His hands meet my ass as he holds himself up for a moment, catching his breath. I lay there, spent, feeling his presence disappear for a minute, only for him to return mere seconds later. My legs are suddenly spread, a warm wash cloth wiping up the mess we made, causing me to slightly flinch before sighing in contentment. He cleans me and himself up, before putting me to bed properly, as all of my energy left my body with every orgasm. He crawls into bed with me, wrapping both of us in a blanket, and planting a soft kiss to my lips, my cheek, and my forehead.

“I love you, pretty girl. So good to me, mama.”

—

a/n : not proofread sorry. hope you enjoy! send in more reqs pls 🫶🏼

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