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ang3ltine · 1 month ago

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𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐒𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐝 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝟐 𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 + 𝐌𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐢 (333) 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐚𝐞 𝐡𝐨 (388) 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮!!

۶ৎ 𝖥𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀- 𝖲𝖾 𝗆𝗂 (380), 𝖭𝗈 𝖾𝗎𝗅 (𝗀𝗎𝖺𝗋𝖽 11), 𝖩𝗎𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝖾 (222) , Hyun ju (120) , 𝖬𝗒𝗎𝗇𝗀 𝗀𝗂 (333) 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖣𝖺𝖾 𝗁𝗈 (388)

𝖶𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: none except for some suggestive comments/themes by Se mi and No eul

𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗋'𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾𝗌: this freaking app crashed while I was editing ughh!! Also check out latest fic here!

𝐍𝐨 𝐞𝐮𝐥:

- She's kind of stand off-ish at first if she doesn't know you, it'll take her a while to fully trust you.

- If you're in the games and she knows you? She's going to try every way possible to make contact with you during interactions throughout the games with secret notes.

- Sometimes she'll stuff it an a bread that's being served to you or just straight out give it in your hand when nobody is looking.

- She honestly prayed to herself that you wouldn't try to get yourself eliminated and doesn't want to be the one to kill you.

- Not really into nicknames but if you were super close to her then maybe she'd call you 'babe' or 'love.'

- Very protective and will get somewhat pissed if other participants in the games are flirting with you. Would definitely shoot them when she has the opportunity and will have no regrets.

- Lokey, she would try quickies with you in the women's washroom (if she had the chance) and would walk out like nothing ever happened. Leaving you shocked but satisfied <3

- No eul is a quiet yet assertive girlfriend who cares about you deep down but won't outwardly say it. You don't have to worry with a partner like her because you know she'll always have your back!

𝐒𝐞 𝐦𝐢:

- Oh Lord, be prepared because you're in for a bumpy ride.

- Se mi is the ideal girlfriend. She treats you like a freaking princess and would give you cute pet names like 'darling' or 'angel.'

- She looks intimidating at first but was the first to approach you with a smile and would be very attentive. If she knew you before joining the games, she'll be cross at first but will try everything to keep you safe. Will hold your hand and keep you close during mingle or when the massacre night happens.

- Would try to keep people like Thanos from interacting with you without having to resort to violence. However, if they persisted then they'd get a string of snarky remarks from her, shutting them down completely.

- This girl is major tease just to get a reaction out of you. Will whisper the most obscene things into your ear and would walk away , leaving you high and dry. Super into pda but if you're not comfortable with it then she's cool with it.

- Heated makeout sessions/quickies in the washroom stalls. Se mi doesn't really give a fuck if they get caught, she just wants to have you writhing under her grasp and would glady give whatever you wanted.

- Se mi is an amazing partner and you'd have alot of patience with this girl because of her constant teasing. But she's also very loving and caring. So expect nothing less from your raven haired girlfriend and show the same love in return ♡♡

𝐉𝐮𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐞:

- Jun hee would keep to herself at first and will seem shy and reserved. Main reason is because she doesn't want to draw too much attention to herself, since she's pregnant with a child.

- If she knew you before the games , she wouldn't want you to help her as she feels like it would be a burden to you. But you reassure her that it's ok and that you wanted to help.

- You're the first one to approach her and she couldn't be more grateful. She'd treat you so nicely and would compliment you alot. Super appreciative of your help and will try her best to make you happy despite her condition.

- You'd make sure she got all the provisions necessary for her and gave her extra food or you would offer her your pillow to her for more comfort. During the fight at night, you put Jun hee's safety before yours, not letting a single scratch land on her.

- You two are the sweetest couple in existence and the old lady that takes care of you both will treat you like her own children. Would be super proud to see that Jun hee is getting the love that she deserves.

- Jun hee has a hard time expressing her feelings but is a super kind and attentive girlfriend.

𝐇𝐲𝐮𝐧 𝐣𝐮:

- Hyun ju treats you like a trophy, someone who deserves to be treasured and well looked after.

- Tries making it up to you if she knew you outside the games and will apologise profusely for leaving you without a word.

- That's exactly what she did when you first asked her to be her partner during the 6 legged race game. She was almost brought to tears as nobody else wanted to join her.

- Will protect you with her life and also encourages you to be brave so you wouldn't have to rely on others so much. Is super proud when you overcome your fears.

- Is grateful that you're so willing to stand up for her if anybody badmouths her. Saying that you think she's really pretty and you don't want her to compare herself to other girls.

- As she's skilled with a gun, she'll have you hide behind her as you guys make your escape. Not wanting you to get hurt or injured in any way possible.

- She's the tall quiet girlfriend who likes being observant but will stand up for you no matter the circumstances. Plus she's the best cuddle buddy!!

𝐌𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐢:

- Realistically, you would avoid him but he's Lee Myung gi. He's going to give you many reasons to convince you that he's not just a fraud. That he's willing to change for you.

- He would also give you the princess treatment. Treats you like glass, making sure you're safe and well protected. Will also keep you away from Thanos, especially if he tried hitting on you. (Que the brawl in the washroom)

- Is an absolute diva but you're here for it. You hype him up when he tries standing up for you or someone else , like Min su (player 125). Will roll his eyes at you if you scold him after a fight, but agrees not to do it again.

- Has a soft spot only reserved for you and wouldn't care about anyone else unless he really wanted to. Always has an eye on you, but during the mingle game. You wouldn't dare leave his side.

- During the fight at night , he would keep you close and fight off those who would try and harm you. You both would survive with only a few bumps and grazes/bruises.

- Nonetheless he's most definitely a black cat boyfriend, fiesty but overall loving.

𝐃𝐚𝐞 𝐡𝐨:

- Treats you like his equal and showers you with love!! Is very friendly and outgoing when it comes to you.

- His group would adopt you like their child lol. They accepted you straight away and lokey shipped you with Dae ho. Seeing how sweet and caring he was when it came to you.

- You help him through his panick attacks and he's super grateful for it. Would fly to the moon and back for you if he could.

- Would love it when you brush your fingers through his hair and give him cute hairstyles. Will wear them proudly with a bright smile on his face, even if he got comments for how weird he looked xd.

- If anyone tried hitting on you, he'd try his best to defend you and keep on reminding them that he's a marine so they shouldn't mess with him!

- He's a golden retriever boyfriend that is loyal and humble. Is a very giving person and if you guys survived the games, you'd both live happily together in your shared apartment.

- Loves it when you run your fingers through his hair, also when you style his hair! Will wear it proudly with a bright smile on his face, despite getting weird look from others.

- Is super grateful if you talk him through his panic attack during the shoot out when they try escaping.

- Dae ho is a golden retriever boyfriend for sure, sweet, playful and super loving!! Please treasure him and not break his heart, he deserves the world ♡

#squid game #no eul x reader #se mi x reader #player 222 x reader #player 388 x reader #player 333 x reader #squid game season 2 #kang dae ho #lee myung gi #player 120 x reader #squid game x reader #squid game smut #ang3ltine #cho hyunju

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martiansodas-blog · 9 months ago

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too pretty to think.

when art started to slip, it almost felt like falling asleep…

a. donaldson x reader

word count: 2,216

contents: dumbification, body worship, face sitting, multiple orgasms, cuming untouched, brief mommy kink, subspace, nicknames and pet names, this is freak nasty.

The first time

You and Art have been going steady for 6 months and you loved every second of it. the two of you mostly hung out at your place, it's a tad cleaner than his dorm and he never bothered with things like decorations. It was a haven for the both of you. So when your Blackberry buzzed with a message asking,

“r u home?”

It was hardly out of the ordinary.

“yeah. just changed clothes”

“can i come over?”

“of course”

Donaldson is a man who never knows when to quit. Let's rephrase: He’ll only quit when instructed to.

He treats his body like a machine. He eats what his nutritionist tells him to, he pushes his body to the limit, and he rarely turns in a paper late.

When you opened your front door your boyfriend was in chaotic ruins. His eyes were puffy and his cheeks were stained. He stared at the floor with his calloused hands in his pockets.

“Oh my gosh, what happened?? What’s wrong?”

Your tone had urgency as you ushered him inside. Once the door is closed he pulls you in for a hug. You don’t dare speak, just hug back. He’ll tell you when he’s ready.

It’s obvious he’s trying to hold himself together, but stroking his back caused him to break.

“Aw, baby,”

You sway him from side to side.

“Shh, it’s ok. I’m here.”

After a few minutes, Art regained control of his breathing. You put him at arm's length—your voice just above a whisper.

“Would you like to come lay down with me? We don’t have to talk about it if you don't want to, let's just get you comfortable.”

Art sniffles and nods his head—your poor baby.

You held his hand and led the way to your room. You sat on your bed with your back against the wall so he could lay between your legs. He often takes this position when you guys are watching movies so it will add a level of comfort for him.

Art takes some deep breaths as you run your nails through his hair.

“We got a new coach and he- he’s so intense. I don’t know. I’ve been berated by coaches since I was 13. Why the hell is this one affecting me differently?”

You twist one of his curls in your fingers.

“Everything's just so much right now. Schoolwork, post-graduation plans, sponsorships… There's so much going on all the time. I- I can’t do it.”

Your heart broke for him.

“I’m so sorry, Artie. I wish I could take it all away from you.”

You rubbed his arms and back for who knows how long. It could have been hours. You didn’t care. You’d cancel your week's agenda if that’s what he needed. You weren’t getting up until he felt better.

You analyzed his words.

“It’s not that you’re unable to make decisions, and it’s not that you make bad decisions. It’s just that decisions are constant unrelenting work… is that an accurate assessment?”

He nodded and sighed into your shirt like you were the one person in the world who understood him.

“...And a good boy like you should never have to work.”

Art froze.

Well, that’s new.

You decided to test the waters further and put on your most sultry voice.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll think for you.”

He let out a sound that can only be described as a mewl. His body curled into a semi-circle.

You swept some hair out of his eyes, they seemed to get droopier.

I don't know what exactly is transpiring he’s responding to it.

“Let your thoughts go. You don’t need them.”

Eyes are fully closed now.

“Can you unclench your jaw for me? That’s it.”

He does as he's told, falling deeper into whatever hollow you're creating. He bites back a smile but his blush is evident. So easy to get him to blush. One of his cutest attributes.

Next step is Moving your handsome boy to lay on his stomach so you can rub his shoulders. You hear him sigh while the tension is worked out of his muscles and watch him relax under your hands.

Walking him through some deep breaths while you place dozens of soft, light kisses on his neck.

You want to make him understand what a privilege it is to have him.

Rubbing his thighs and calves, slowly melting away the stress of the day. Kisses on the backs of his knees while he laughs and tells you to stop that and that it tickles.

Helping him turn over to lie on his back and climbing carefully on top to straddle him.

You toy with the hem of his shirt.

“Can I take this off?”

He looks up at you. mouth open and nods.

It causes you to giggle.

“Thank you.”

Once that’s out of the way your hands wander up to his chest while trailing more impossibly light kisses down his Adam's apple. Massaging his chest, squeezing and grabbing and just feeling his skin.

Kissing his collarbones, trailing your tongue along the dip where they meet under his neck. Slowly working that boy up with teasing touches that only get more and more unbearable.

Slowly returning to his lips to kiss him again while you reach down to trail your fingertips over his cock. He pants and whines so sweetly into your mouth while you play with his cock. You're not even trying to make him cum-- not yet.

I could do this all day.

Letting him drift in a fuzzy-headed space while you work your fingers soft and slow over his pants. Doesn't need to worry about anything but your hands on his body. You're right here to keep him safe and make him feel good.

“There's nothing I love more than watching my brilliant, polite, well-spoken boyfriend turn mindless.”

Art whined and bucked his hips up to meet your hand.

“I need to be in you so bad. Please.”

Who are you to refuse him?

“Don't worry baby, I’ll give you what you want.”

You slid off him and he reached for you, like he couldn’t stand you being an inch away for any amount of time. You chuckled and took off your bottoms and underwear, he copied.

You hopped back on top of him, which made him break out into a smile. His girl was about to take care of him.

You grabbed his cock and started stroking him.

“I don’t know if I’m wet enough, Artie.”

“Sitonmyface.” He begged all in one breath.

You bit your lip so as not to laugh at him. It wasn’t in a mean way, no no! He was just so excited about it. It’s adorable and flattering all at the same time.

“Are you sure? We’ve never done that before.”

We haven’t done a lot of this before.

He shamelessly nodded. Grabbing your waist with both hands and shifting your body up before you could protest.

“I don’t want to crush you.”

At this point, he was panting. A dog seconds away from getting a treat.

“You won’t.”

Art has eaten you out before, and it’s been wonderful. But this? This is a new kind of ecstasy.

His tongue reaches new trenches.

And that fucking nose. It bumped your clit every time. You were gasping and making noises you didn’t know were possible. His mouth is memorizing your folds. He's getting off on your arousal. His tip is red and hurting, but can barely care when a taste crafted just for him is on his lips.

“Shit. Just like that.”

Your thighs trapped his face, your breath hitched with every thrust, and your walls clenched around his tongue.

“Oh god, oh god,”

Truthfully, Art didn't know which of you came first.

The only thing he knew was your body.

You shuffled down and kissed all over his face which was covered in your release.

“You made mommy feel so good.”

He smiled up at you. He was so proud that he could do that for you. Like it was his purpose in life. And oh did he love that nickname. It made him feel all soft, like when you recall a fond memory.

“Do you want Mommy to sit on your cock?”

He whimpered and nodded.

You lined yourself up with him and sank. It was so easy due to both of your juices, you had to concentrate on lowering slowly so he didn’t bottom out too fast.

The two of you moaned in unison. It was almost tantric. Even though the focus here is on Art, it’s impossible not to feel the same pleasure. It wasn’t just your sexualities that were aligned but your souls. The love you felt for each other was palpable.

It didn’t take long for him to bottom out. But it wasn’t enough. You ground your hips into him, causing his voice to raise an octave.

“Oh fuck. Hnnn! Fuck, feels so good, please.”

He was babbling nonsense, unable to create cohesive thoughts or keep any sounds in.

You remove his hands clutching the sheets and replace them with your own. To bring him back to earth.

When he couldn’t get enough he bucked his hips up into yours. Moving aimlessly, mindlessly. You held his hips down to the mattress and bounced on his dick. The sounds of his cock hitting your weeping entrance were insanely beautiful and sinful to listen to.

“Such a good boy.”

His dick jumped inside of you at that. Seemingly of its own volition.

You shifted to pepper kisses on his jawline. The new position forced his cock to rub all kinds of new places. You nearly collapsed onto him from the shock. Heavy exhales leave your mouth. Your pussy suffocates his cock.

“My good boy. Just a dumb little thing for me to use isn't that right.”

Art came on the spot. No warning. His skin flushed and curls were damp on his forehead. Words were coiled at his throat, coming out as broken sobs, wanting more.

You rode him until it was clear he'd finished.

“Did you cum for me, baby?”

“Yes. I'm sorry I should’ve said something I couldn't help it. Felt too good, I didn’t -“

“Shh sweetheart, you did nothing wrong. You can cum in me as many times as you like. That's what I’m here for. That’s what this,” you clenched around him, “is for.”

“Fuck.” his breath quivering. He arched his back, sensitive little thing.

“I love it when you spill yourself into me. it’s so warm in here now.”

You placed his hand on your lower stomach, your womb.

“Can we go again please?”

“Are you sure? I don't want to push you.”

He shuffled so you were both sitting up. causing you to gasp. His erection never left, and it’s ever so prevalent right now.

“Please! Wanna keep myself buried here forever.”

It was hard to remain the level-headed one after hearing that.

“You make me so wet when you say that, Artie.”

There's drool coming from his mouth as he watches you talk. Nothing behind those eyes.

“So wet and needy.”

You soften your voice, and when you talk it’s into his mouth.

“You gonna let me take you again?”

He groaned and nodded, then ferociously kissed you. He wrapped his strong arms around your torso and immediately disliked how much fabric was between the two of you. He ripped your t-shirt and sports bra off in nearly one motion. Sighing when he felt skin on skin.

“I’m going to play with you until there's nothing in that head except my name.”

And you did. You fucked him till his brain turned to mush. Till it felt so good he thought he was going crazy, till he couldn’t even hear how loud he was being. Just blissed out being pulled back into your cunt.

What an honor, to have such an obedient, adoring boy like him.

You let him stay like that, floaty and sweet until he fell asleep to whispered praises.

“My good boy. You did such a good job for me.”

A kiss to his forehead.

“You know I love you so much.”

Tucked under the covers.

“So good for me, honey. You're okay. I'm proud of you. You're all mine, and I'm all yours.”

You raked your nails along his back.

“Relax, It'll all be there for you tomorrow. But for right now, all you need to be is my good, sweet boy. And you are.”

You moved off the bed which concerned Art.

“Are you leaving?”

He looked like he could cry. You cradled his face.

“No baby boy, of course not. I’m only getting you some water. I’ll be right back”

You spoke to him like a child bedridden with a cold. It was clear the comedown was something intense and never experienced before. He needed you next to him right now.

“Alright lovely, I know you’re tired but have a few drinks of this for me.”

You guided the water bottle into his mouth till you were satisfied with the amount he got in his system.

“Rest now. I’ll cuddle you.”

The blonde fell asleep immediately in your embrace and you hoped it wouldn't be the last time you took his thoughts away.

#lapdog agenda #art donaldson #challengers #art donaldson fanfic #art donaldson smut #art donaldson fic #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson dumbification #sub art donaldson

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mirensiart · 1 month ago

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The legend of Zelda: Chained Truths ⛓️ MASTERPOST🔑

(aka where I'll be putting everything about my KeyChain zelink au content)

This is my original zelda story with my zelda & link ocs, they've been fondly nicknamed Key (zelda) and Chain (link) to distinguish them from the canon links & zeldas

The basic plot is that the story happens roughly 100 years post Spirit Tracks in the adult timeline

Zelda (granddaughter of spirit tracks!zelink) is framed for the murder of the king, she manages to escape castle town just for a huge bounty to be placed on her head, she is wanted DEAD or ALIVE

Link, a bounty hunter who only takes "wanted: alive" jobs, stumbles upon Zelda and catches her. Link uses a magical item in the form of a chain to catch criminals, and thus chains himself to Zelda so he can bring her to justice.

Zelda manages to convince him to help her out by offering double the Bounty on her head if he does (and they're successful) Link who's desperate for money to support his family, reluctantly agrees to help her find the truth behind her father's murder.

However, when he's about to unchain them, he finds out the magic key he used to lock the chain is missing, they're now stuck to each other until the key is found or they find another way to unlock their shackles.

They hate each other at first, but eventually warm up to each other.

🔑 LINKS TO DOODLES AND COMICS OF THEM ⛓️

- OG post

- how they first met

- he jinxed himself

- how the chain works

- oh no she's a hugger

- I don't usually care for criminals

- working together

- open your eyes, Link!

- she's trapped

- now she's here, shining in the starlight

- touch starved

- she will deny she was worried later

- I'm so glad you're OK!

- they tripped and fell

- they think they're so cool

- pocky game

- they eventually kiss (2 years later lmao)

🔑 WORLD BUILDING TEXT POSTS⛓️

- she's so done actually

- possible sages

- ENDGAME

🔑 THEIR TAG ⛓️

#key&chain loz ocs

#I will be updating this in time !#chained truths au #key&chain loz ocs #loz au #tloz au #legend of zelda #the legend of zelda #keychain masterpost

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empresskylo · 1 year ago

Note

cod men headcanons in an age gap relationship?

i have such a thing for age gaps...i blame society. also, i’m only including ghost, price, and alejandro because the other men are too young imo. ik some of their ages are debatable, so in my mind, ghost is at least 30.

Ghost

♡ honestly, i don't think my guy really gives a shit if there is an age difference between you two. like his morals are all skewed, and the last thing he'd waste time worrying about would be a *legal* age gap.

♡ being younger than him would just make his nicknames for you that much more adorable. he likes to add the words 'little' and 'tiny' in front of a lot of the things he calls you. "little mouse" "little dove" "tiny girl/boy"

♡ regardless of how much experience you have (with relationships, sex, etc) he will always act like he knows more than you. he can find himself treating you like you’re so innocent and new to everything--even if you do the same line of work as him, i.e. killing people. and it can definitely annoy you.

♡ it doesn’t matter how many people you’ve been with or how many people you’ve killed; no matter what, he knows more than you. and honestly, even tho it can annoy you sometimes, him being so dominant is just super hot.

♡ “simon, i know how to do it” you whined, as he wrapped his arms around you, showing you how to properly use a sniper. you were used to so many other guns, but not snipers. “mhm,” he mocked, stepping away from you. when you shot the gun, you missed your target by quite a few feet. your cheeks warmed and you hesitated before looking back at simon. his arms were crossed over his chest as he eyed you. you could tell he had a smug smile plastered across his face under his mask. he did not need his ego inflated any more than it already was.

Price

♡ price was definitely concerned when he first realized he had feelings for you. he knew you were of age, but that didn't stop the odd feeling he got when he was around you--like he was taking advantage of you.

♡ and his way of flirting was to act like your father… he thought he was being nice, showing you how to do stuff, always having your back. but my god was he appalled when you were frustrated with him one day after he keep hounding you about something.

♡ “Ok, dad! i get it!” “what did you just call me?” You heard the anger in his tone. shit, you were getting too comfortable around your captain, you should not have teased him like that. “S-sorry, captain. I didn’t mean—“ He cut you off, clearly agitated for a different reason than you being smart with him. “is that how you view me, doll? like a father?” if you said yes, price would know he needed to back off. he could take a hint. “No… I… You just wouldn’t get off my back. I was just trying to be funny.” You felt so embarrassed as you explained yourself. Price got into your space and grabbed your chin in his hand, titling your head up to look at him. you gulped. “you wanna call me endearments? go ahead. but don’t ever call me that again.” he looked at you a moment longer before turning away. suddenly fueled with adrenaline, you called after him. “what about daddy?” Price spun around quicker than you could register before he was pushing you backward, his hand tight in your hair as he yanked your head back to look up at him again with a gasp. “fuckin’ brat,” he muttered, a sly smile crossing his lips.

♡ as much as price truly does not care about your sexual history, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on a bit knowing how much more innocent you were than him. you could have slept with a bunch of people for all he cared, but knowing you were that much younger than him, he knew he had more experience than you regardless. and something about that sparked a flame in his chest. he had a thing for wanting to show you the ropes.. but he definitely felt guilty about thinking that way. he wouldn’t have been any less attracted to you knowing you slept with a hundred other people. he knew you being “innocent” shouldn’t turn him on. but it did…

♡ he is very possessive of you. doesn’t like the idea of other men thinking they have a chance with you. but he can get a bit self-conscious whenever a younger man approaches you or checks you out. “you really wanna be with an old man like me?” he’d ask. as confident as he is, in the beginning of your relationship, being so much older than you made him second guess himself. shouldn’t you want to be with someone your own age? “jesus, price. you’re only 37. you act like you’re knocking on hell's door.” he’d start tickling you for your bratty remark, but it definitely placated some of his nerves.

♡ and since he has more experience dating wise, he’d say “i love you” pretty early on. he’s not dating you thinking it’s some fling. he’s serious about you. and he’s lived long enough to know when he’s in love. and he’s not afraid to say it.

♡ you were saying goodbye to price as he went off on a mission. he’d only be gone a few days, but you’d hate every minute of it. he kissed you, his mustache tickling your lip. “i love you,” he murmured when he pulled away. he smirked as he appraised your stunned face. and he’d turn and leave before you had a chance to process his words, knowing you wouldn’t be able to get them out of your head the whole time he was gone.

Alejandro

♡ definitely feels bad at first, like he’s taking advantage of you. he reminds you all the time to tell him if you’re uncomfortable. that you can say no. he just doesn’t want you to feel used.

♡ as he gets more confident in the way you want him, he starts to use it against you. same as ghost, he mocks you as if you’re so innocent and inexperienced. “see, this is what they call a—“ “Yes, Ale. I know. I’m the one who showed you that.” resulting in a cheeky wink from him.

♡ during training, he embarrassed you in front of the others. when you messed up a move, he made a big deal showing you how to execute it properly even though you’ve been in the army for years now and knew how to do it in your sleep. he liked to see the way you’d get flustered with all the other guys around as he teased you.

♡ he definitely exudes a dominant side and it definitely comes out around you. he wants to do everything for you. wants to carry shit that’s too heavy for you. he wants to be your ride. the first person you call when you need help. he wants to be your everything.

♡ he also acts a little more dominant in bed than he would if he was with someone his age. something about you looking up at him with your sweet little doe-eyes sparked a dominating need within him. he takes control. he leads. he tells you what to do. he barks out commands. he punishes you for being bratty. he takes control in every sense of the word. The only time you can really hold anything over him is when he’s getting close to finishing. you’ll be able to get him to say whatever you want him to, his mind lost in a haze, wanting nothing more than to find the release you’re about to give him. “Please,” he begged. you smiled as you hovered above him. you sank back down on him and continued your motions, and he quickly climaxed. his hands squeezed your hips as he groaned. “fuckin’ perfect.”

#ghost #simon riley #ghost headcanons #simon riley headcanons #alejandro vargas headcanons #john price headcanons #call of duty headcanons #ghost cod #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #alejandro x reader #alejandro vargas #captain john price #john price

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sergeantbarnessdoll · 1 year ago

Note

Hey

Can you write a one shot where Bucky and reader have a daughter. One day when reader and their little daughter are at home and Bucky is at the compound or on a mission, reader accidentally hurts herself. She says something like this to the daughter :"Don't tell daddy." But later when Bucky comes home she says something to Bucky and he immediately gets worried. And then maybe some cuddle time with the Barnes Family.

Thank you in advance 💗

Mommy Hurt » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Husband/Dad/Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Wife/Mom!Reader with daughter Daisy

Summary: Bucky gets worried when he finds out from his daughter that Y/N got hurt while he was on a mission.

Warnings: Fluff, language, small injury, brief mention of blood, hugs and kisses, cuddling, uses of nicknames/pet names

A/N: Thank you for requesting @lives-in-midgard 🩵 I had fun writing this🥰

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found this one on Pinterest.

“Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!” Yours and Bucky’s 3 year old daughter Daisy comes running in the kitchen with a piece of paper in her hands. “Look what I draw!” She says, holding the picture up for you to see.

“It’s beautiful, sweetie. Tell me about.” You say, looking down at her.

“This is daddy. This is mommy. This is Pine Pine. This is me.” She says, point to each stick figure in the picture.

You were trying your best to do the dishes and pay attention to what Daisy was saying which probably wasn’t the best idea, because the next thing you know, you felt a sharp pain in your hand. You gasped and dropped the knife you had in your other hand in the sink, clutching your hand in your other one.

“Mommy?” Daisy tapping on your leg. “What happened?” She asks, looking up at you.

“I-I’m fine, baby.” You tried your best to not cry in front of your daughter. “Mommy cut herself.” You tell her.

You slowly opened your hand to see a small cut on the palm of your hand with a little bit of blood coming out of it. You grabbed a kitchen towel that was next to the sink and put it on your hand, applying pressure.

“Mommy have a boo boo?” Daisy asks.

“Just a little one.” You say.

You crouched down to her height and gave her a hug.

“Don’t tell daddy.” You tell her.

“No tell daddy.” She says.

“Good girl.” You smiled and kissed her cheek. “Why don’t you go watch cartoons in the living room and I’ll be there in a few minutes.” You tell her.

“Ok, mommy!” Daisy says, running off to the living room.

You went to the bathroom and got the first aid kit out from underneath the sink. You cleaned out the cut with alcohol and wrapped some gauze around it and taped it with medical tape. You put the first aid kit away and went to the living room to see that Daisy put on Barbie. You took a seat next to her and watched it with her.

A couple days later, Bucky came home from a week long mission. Bucky frowns in confusion when he didn’t see you and Daisy greet him immediately like the two of you normally do.

“Where are my girls?” Bucky’s voice echos through the house.

Bucky heard Daisy’s little footsteps running towards him.

“Daddy!” Daisy says excitedly.

“There’s my baby girl!” Bucky says happily as he picked up Daisy.

Bucky gave her a bunch of hugs and kisses, making her giggle.

“Mommy hurt.” She tells him.

“What?” Bucky felt his heart drop, thinking that something bad happened to you while he was on the mission. “Where is mommy?” He asks her.

“Kitchen.” Daisy says, pointing towards the kitchen.

Bucky walks in the kitchen with Daisy in his arms to see you putting groceries away.

“Bucky, you’re home!” You smile widely and hugged him.

“Are you ok?” Bucky asks with worry in his voice.

“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” You asked.

“Daisy told me you got hurt.” He says.

“I told her not to tell you.” You say, looking at your daughter.

“Sowwy, mommy.” Daisy says, feeling bad.

“It’s ok, sweetie.” You say, moving a piece of hair from her face.

Daisy tapped on Bucky’s shoulder, telling him that she wants down. When Bucky put her down, she ran to her play room.

“Show me.” He says.

“Babe, it’s nothing.” You say.

“Doll…” He says.

You sighed and took the gauze off of your left hand and showed him the cut on the palm of your hand that was starting to scab up. Bucky gently took your hand in his and inspected it.

“How did you cut yourself?” Bucky asks.

“I was doing the dishes while looking at a picture Daisy drew and I cut myself with a knife.” You explained.

Bucky felt relieved, knowing that you’re fine. He brought your hand up to his lips and kissed it softly, making you smile. Then he kissed you passionately.

“How about I properly patch up your hand.” Bucky says.

Bucky led you upstairs to yours and his bedroom. You took a seat on the bed while Bucky got the first aid kit from the bathroom. He came out of the bathroom and sat down next to you. He cleaned it with alcohol and wrapped it with gauze, also making sure it wasn’t too tight and tapped it with medical tape. He brought your hand up to his lips again and kissed it softly.

“Better?” Bucky asks.

“All better.” You say, leaning forward to kiss him.

“I’m taking you to the Compound tomorrow so Bruce can take a look at it.” He says.

“Fine.” You say with a playful pout.

Bucky kisses your lips once more, but the kiss was interrupted when Daisy came running in the bedroom.

“Hey!” Daisy shouts, getting yours and Bucky’s attention. “Up!” She says, doing grabby hands at her daddy.

You and Bucky smiled at her cuteness. Bucky picked her up and placed her in between the two of you.

“I draw something!” Daisy shows you and Bucky a picture. “This is daddy. This is mommy. This is Pine Pine. This is me. Me and Pine Pine are superheros like daddy in this one.” She tells you guys.

“It’s beautiful, princess.” Bucky says, kissing the top of her head.

You guys heard Alpine meow loudly as she jumped up on the bed. You guys gave Alpine some lovings before laying down with Daisy in between you and Bucky and Alpine on the pillow next to Bucky’s head.

“I wuv you, daddy. I wuv you, mommy.” Daisy says, kissing yours and Bucky’s cheeks.

“We love you too, baby.” You and Bucky say, kissing her cheeks.

Bucky turned on Barbie for Daisy while you guys cuddled for the rest of the night. Bucky couldn’t ask for anything better than this.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

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7seas-of-ryy · 1 month ago

Text

Crestfallen - Part 2

Author’s Note: I hope everyone has a great New Years!!

Overall Summary: Although you were born in the Day Court, you've been living in the Night Court for a century. You're close with the inner circle but what will happen when a new healer is brought into the picture?

Part 2 Summary: Gaslighting and harming patients is not what a healer is supposed to do!

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: talks of injuries

Waking up, your entire body felt like it was on fire. You couldn't remember what happened so you did what Az and Cass had trained you to do. Taking a deep breath, you assessed your surroundings. You were laying in someone's room, Azriel's room. That's a relief. One other thing you notice was you were naked and wrapped in ice cold, wet rags.

Hearing footsteps approaching, you closed your eyes and pretended to be asleep still.

"Azzy, you don't have to have her sleep in your bed. I can keep her down in the recovery room of my shop." Clara's sickly sweet voice broke the silence.

Azzy?? She has a nickname for him? She's barely known him. All these thoughts kept running through your head while you waited for his response.

"No, she's staying here. It's the least I can do for her. I should've checked on her sooner, I was just so caught up in my work that I didn't realize no one had seen or heard from her for two days." Azriel responded.

"Stop beating yourself up. She's a big girl and can handle herself. Plus, you're such an important piece in the Night Court, you don't need to be worrying so much about her." She told him.

Before she could keep going, you made it known you were awake by softly clearing your throat.

Az ran to your side and kneeled down next to you, grabbing your hand.

"You're awake! I was so worried. You've had a terrible fever so Clara wrapped you in these rags to cool you down. That cut on your back looked really bad too, why didn't you let Clara help you the other night?" Azriel spoke softly to you, and by the looks of it he hadn't been sleeping much.

"What? Clara told me-" You choked out but your throat felt so dry it was hard to talk.

"Don't you remember? I offered you the salve and wrap for your cut, told you it looked infected? You told me you just wanted to sleep it off. I didn't think that would be good but I can't force anyone to get better especially if they don't want to." She talked down to you like you were a child.

You felt like you were going crazy. Maybe Clara was right, maybe in your exhaustion you refused help and ended up getting worse. But you could've sworn she told you everything was fine.

"Water." it was all you could choke out.

"I'll get it for you." Clara offered but you didn't trust her. Especially with your mind as foggy as it was right now.

"No!" You shouted, well tried to shout.

"Ok, ok, calm down. I can get it for you, would that be ok?" Azriel asked as he gently pushed the hair out of your face.

You nodded your head and he got up to get it for you. Once he was gone, Clara started fumbling around in her bag and pulled out a powder.

She walked over to you, opening the substance and put a little bit of it in the cap.

"Wha-?" You started to say as she blew the capful of powder straight into your face.

The most intense pain took over your body. It was like your flesh was being torn from your bones. Your body writhed in agony and you were screaming out in pain. The shadowsinger came running in the room straight to you.

"What happened? Help her!" His voice was booming.

"I don't know, she was fine then all of the sudden this happened. I think I have something that can fix her!" She sounded panicked and worried for you.

Pulled a liquid out of her bag, she looked pained towards Az like she didn't want to give it to you.

"What're you doing? Hurry!!" He shouted.

"This is going to hurt her a lot, I need you to hold her down." Clara told Az.

He quickly grabbed his belt off and slipped it in your mouth so you could bite down on it and held your arms down.

"I'm so sorry," He whispered to you, "She's gonna help you, it'll be over soon."

Clara grabbed a dagger and cut down your side. She grabbed the liquid and dropped it into the cut. However bad you thought the pain was, was nothing compared to this. You thought you were going to die, the last thing you saw was Azriel' hazel eyes before passing out once again.

"She needs some time for that to kick in. Her cut must've been worse than I thought. I needed to treat the infection, the liquid I poured into the cut will do that and it will work faster the way I did it." Clara told the spymaster, walking over to him and rubbing his shoulders.

----

The next time you woke up, Az was sitting on the ground with his back against the bed. You didn't see Clara anywhere so relief instantly flooded your mind.

Sensing the change in your breathing, Azriel's head shot up and he stood up to see you.

"Hey, how are you doing?" He whispered.

"Where's Clara?" You asked, partly out of fear.

"Why? Do you need her? I can call for her-" He started

"NO" You immediately shut him down, "Please keep her away from me. I'm sick because of her!"

Azriel looked at you as if you grew a second head.

"You have to listen to me. She has been horrible to me since the second she met me..." You were pleading with him.

"Stop." He whispered but you kept going, speaking over him.

"She didn't even assess me the other night, which is why my cut is infected and then she blew some powder in my face which caused everything earlier. She is purposefully making me sick." You were rambling, trying to get him to understand.

"Enough." Azriel spoke in a stern voice, "Listen, I don't know if it's because of everything you're going through but Clara is the only reason you aren't in agony right now. You cannot pin something like this on her. She has been very essential these past 2 weeks and she is extremely kind. There is no way she could possibly do something like that."

Those words were like a punch to your gut. How could he not believe you? You've been best friends for over 75 years, known each other for a century. This is the male that you were in love with, siding with Clara.

"You don't believe me." You whispered, feeling a tear slide down your cheek.

"I'm not saying that. I'm saying you had a long, tough first solo mission and I think it's taking it's toll on you. Your mind might be playing tricks." He tried to make it better but the look he gave you was full of pity.

"Please leave now." You mumbled and turned your head away from him.

Without saying another word, you felt his shadows settle over you and as quick as they were there, they left along with their master.

------

A few days have past now with you showing no signs of improvement. You haven't gotten worse but you definitely haven't gotten better.

Mor and Nesta visited you quite a bit, Nesta even read to you every night. You asked Rhys to have Azriel stay away and even though he thought that would be counterproductive, he respected your wishes.

For 75 years, you have been in love with the Spymaster. Of course, you never told him out of fear of rejection but also because you knew he would never feel the same and it would ruin your friendship. You knew the feelings were unrequited when he didn't believe you about Clara.

It felt deeper than him not believing you, in a way it felt as if he chose her over you and that hurt far worse than any of the physical pain you went through.

As you were deep in thought, Nesta and Mor both came into your room. Well, Azriel's room. You were still too weak to move anywhere else.

"Hey, you're awake!" Mor greeted you with a smile.

"I brought a new book for us to start, if you are up for it." Nesta added.

She was always kind to you because you were there for her with everything she went through. Nesta was grateful for your unrelenting friendship and you were happy to have her as a friend.

Right as you were about to respond to Nesta, you felt the cut on your back heating up. Searing pain started shooting through your body and you thought you saw tendrils of light swirling around you. Confused and in agony, you threw your head back.

"Get Clara." Mor told Nesta as she tried to help you.

You were too weak to tell her no, the light seemed to be getting brighter. A high pitched squeal was getting louder. Suddenly, your body was being lifted in the air by the beams of light but it was as if you were paralyzed.

Clara winnowed into the room, her eyes going wide as she witnessed what was happening to you.

The noise was so loud that Nesta, Mor, and Clara were all covering their ears. Your body was convulsing, the light becoming so bright you thought you were going to explode.

"DO SOMETHING!" Mor screamed over all of the noise.

The fear in Clara's eyes was evident and she stood there not moving.

"..uh...I...I didn't do this one! I don't know how to fix it! I'll see if Madja is close by." She stated and winnowed away.

Nesta's head snapped to Clara but she was already gone. Mor ran to you but there was nothing she could do. Rhys, Azriel, and Cassian all ran into the room to see what was happening but there was nothing they could do either.

"What happened?!" Az shouted but no one responded.

A few moments passed before Clara winnowed back into the room, this time with Madja, who calmly made her way to you and hovered her hands over your form. She started mumbling some words and your body slowly laid back down on the bed.

The beams of light slowly went away and you weren't screaming in pain anymore.

"All of you. Out now. I need space to work. You need to go too, Clara." Madja spoke without looking up, "Except you, High Lord, I might need you."

Cassian, Mor, Clara, and Nesta started to get out and Azriel stayed, he couldn't leave you. Cassian grabbed him and forced him out as they all made their way down to the living area.

They all stood worrying about you, the Spymaster's shadows swirling like mad when Nesta broke the silence.

"Hey Clara...what did you mean when you said "You didn't do this one" earlier?" She spoke, her eyes narrowing on the female.

Taglist

@rcarbo1 @acourtofbatboydreams @bravo-delta-eccho

#acotar #acotar imagine #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #azriel shadowsinger #azriel imagine #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #azriel x reader #a court of thorns and roses #azriel angst

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dio-niisio · 7 months ago

Text

I like the idea that the Justice League is a bit jealous of the Marvel family!

Like sure they spend more time with the captain, and know everything about him enough that they sometimes call him Billy (what the JL believe to be a nickname based on the captain NAME, with he wasn't told them)...

The first time they meet together is when they are fighting some kind of magical monster and the Captain asks the help of some one in a weird magic thing and a blue version of him comes out of a portal. Ok, normal enough for Marvel no problem. And this version put up a good fight! And they seem to work very well with Marvel!

So when the fight is over Marvel introduces his 'best friend' Lieutenant Marvel... Ok. That's alright. Best friend huh.

"It was nice knowing you all! But I got to go now! Don't be home late Billy!" This Lieutenant guy said, well he is very poli- wait who is Billy????

"Don't worry! Tell Mary I will be home for dinner!" Said the Captain, wait Marvel is Billy? This guy knows his name? We don't know his name yet...

Over time they meet the rest of the Marvel family and that's when the jealousy sets in. Cuz every time someone asks Marvel if he wants to do something in his off time he declines because "His family already has something planned! But thanks!" (The something planned is playing videogames with Freddy)....

I think it would be more funny when they discover that Billy is just a 10 year old boy, they were jealous because they didn't have the attention of a child...

(Shit really hits the fan when they discover that Mary and the Lieutenant are also children)

#billy batson #captain marvel #freddy freeman #mary batson #justice league #thay were jealous of a bunch of 4th graders

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miley1442111 · 8 months ago

Text

reams and reactions (part 1)- r.cameron

------------------

a/n: HELLO! welcome to my new obx series, don't worry, if you follow me for cm or anything else I'll still be posting that, but i've just been on a obx binge recently so i cooked this story up in my head.

tropes: childhood bestfriends to lovers, enemies to lovers

pairing: rafe cameron x fem! reader (use of Y/n, and the nickname Bunny/ bun (but i promise not in a weird way there's a story to it i swear it's not just one of those weird smut things))

summary: how you and rafe fell apart, then finally meet again.

warnings: drugs, drug use, drinking, parental and sibling death, kissing, crying, violence, fighting, cursing, guys being creepy, misogyny, asshole dude. (i think that's it?)

not entirely proofread

2k+ words

------------------

When Rafe was 5 years old, he ran with you in the garden of Tannyhill, chasing you in a game of tag. When he finally caught up to you, you both fell to the ground, limbs tangled in the way only friends did, giggling the way only friends do, and he pressed the sweetest kiss to your cheek.

When Rafe was 8, he came sobbing at your doorstep, on the verge of throwing up. He’d run all the way there. His mom was dead. He didn’t know what else to do. Besides his mother, you were the only person you’d ever been there for him like that, showing him that emotions were ok, and normal. When he felt you hugging him, and crying with him, he knew he would be with you forever. That he would stick with you through anything.

When Rafe was 10, he came back to your house after a particularly long day (aka you had no classes together) and you two sat on your couch with your family surrounding you, Romeo and Juliet on the screen. He felt himself blush when your sister made the joke that he was like your Romeo, since your dads didn’t get on. Though you both adamantly denied it, a few minutes later he felt your hand holding his under the blanket, your matching friendship bracelet brushing off each other's skin. He was smitten. A smile landed swiftly on both of your faces.

When Rafe was 13, he watched as you walked down the aisle of his father’s second marriage, a bunch of flowers in hand. He thought you looked beautiful, you were so beautiful. The pale blue dress Rose had picked and, of course, white roses in your hand. You shot him a small smile, one he responded to by blowing you a kiss. You laughed it off and went to stand where you were meant to. Rafe’s eyes were glued to you through the entire ceremony, almost forgetting to give his dad the rings. After the ceremony, you two ran off, away from Tannyhill. You went to your ‘little cove’ as you’d call it. It was a tiny beach just beside your house, but it led into the most magnificent field full of wildflowers, insects, and tall grass. It was beautiful. You and Rafe spent the whole night there, joking and talking. Then he finally mustered up the courage to kiss you. You kissed him back, but you’d both never speak about it again, too scared to mess up your incredible decade of friendship.

When Rafe was 15, he saw you for the last time. Three months earlier you had come to him, sobbing about the fact that you were moving to California of all places. More than a day's drive away. 42 hour drive. He promised you, no, swore to you that you’d keep in touch, that you’d be there for each other even with the distance.

He was wrong. After a few months, he’d stopped texting back, stopped calling back, stopped being there for you. And he never saw you again.

------------------

Rafe woke up with a banging headache and an uncontrollable urge to vomit but swallowed it back and took the glass of water that remained on his bedside table for days at a time. Today was going to be shit. It was the 28th of July, the day you left him, and the day his world got turned upside down. This day was always hard. He was reminded of everything he’d messed up in life. What was he now? A drug addicted, drunk, piece of shit. He was barely getting by in college and he’d already had to repeat a year twice. Often, he’d go to your little cove and sit, thinking about what you were doing now. Were you a teacher, like you’d wanted to be as a kid? Were you an artist? He remembered how good you were at sketching. Were you even alive and he’d missed the funeral? What did you look like? What colour was your hair? Did you think about him?

Everything was too loud in his mind. He grabbed a beer, and set on his way. The cove was in full bloom, a sea of colours under the boiling sun. He sat in his usual spot, the spot where you two had kissed. You two had these small chairs that Rafe barely fit in then, and definitely didn’t fit in now, so he sat beside them. What time was it? Was the sun going down? He searched in his pocket for his phone, only to find it dead.

“Excuse me?” He turned to see a girl shouting from across the field.

“Yeah?” he called back, feeling rather inconvenienced by the whole ordeal.

“Do the Cameron’s still live in Tannyhill?” She asked.

“Yeah, why?”

“Just an old friend, thanks!”

And she walked off. He tried to remember her physical features as best he could, but ultimately forgot them in his pursuit of washing his troubles away with the beer in his hand.

------------------

“Y/n? Is that you?!” Sarah squealed as she leant out the window of the Twinkie.

“Sarah?” You practically ran into the road to meet her. The car was stopped at a stop-light, and she pulled you in to properly greet you.

“Oh my god! It is so good to see you!” She smiled. Despite you and Rafe’s falling out, you’d stayed in touch with Sarah, even though you were a little older than her. You even followed Wheezie on instagram and texted back and forth sometimes. But Rafe… static. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I’m here to teach, I just finished my 2nd year of college and I’m doing my work experience here!” You explained, as she pulled away from the hug.

“So you’re going to be here, like for the whole year?”

“Not just the whole year, I’m moving back once I'm done with my exams,” you explained. “I’m doing this programme that means I can work from here and do college from here, I’m so fucking sick of California.”

Both Sarah and Kiara squealed with excitement, and the three boys cheered. You’d been friends with the pogues, being a sort of pogue-kook hybrid.

Kiara pulled you in for a hug, then Pope, then Jj, then John B gave your hand a squeeze instead, since he was busy driving.

“So you’re back for good?” Kie asked.

“I’m back for as long as you’ll have me,” you smiled.

“We have to celebrate tonight!” Jj cheered.

“There’s a party down at Figure 8, I’m sure Y/n’s kook heritage will get us in,” Pope shrugged and you all agreed.

You spent the rest of the afternoon hanging around the pogues and Sarah and got ready at Kiara’s place for the party. Her parents welcomed you back with open arms, and then asked the dreaded question of ‘how are your parents?’

Your parents had been dead for 3 years. They’d died in an accident, and you’d been alone since then.

“They’re good,” you lied. “Working hard back in California.”

That satisfied them, and they stopped asking.

------------------

The Figure 8 party was just how you remembered them to be. Loud, drunk, and almost too much. Even though you had been 14 at the time, Rafe had convinced you to come to one, since he was friends with some older kooks who wanted him there. Halfway through you told him you were going home, and instead of just waving you off, he brought you to your little cove, and sat with you for a couple hours. After that he brought you back to his house, and you had a sleepover.

When you’d asked him why he did that, he’d just shrugged and said ‘I prefer being around you.’

God, you could’ve married that man. You were supposed to, if your diary ‘ideal life’ had gone to plan.

Step One: Start dating Rafe

Step Two: Become highschool sweethearts and make it through college (even if it's long distance) and become a teacher!

Step Three: Work as a teacher and live on the mainland for a few years, have Rafe propose in the little cove, say yes, obviously and start wedding planning.

Step Four: Have the wedding at Tannyhill, move into a house on Figure 8 and start having kids, we’ll have 4 or 5 (Rafe wants 7 kids????? 4 or 5 is pushing it buddy), and live a long happy life as a teacher with Rafe and our family.

Step Five: Die happy.

Ok, it wasn’t exactly inspired, but come on, you were 13.

You noticed what looked like a grown version of Topper in the crowd and when he turned and saw you, a smile grew on his face. He ran over and scooped you up in a hug.

“Bun! You’re back!”

Bun was the nickname you were given as a kid because well, you liked bunnies. You had two as a kid, and for a year, you wouldn’t respond to someone unless they called you bun. It was ridiculous, but people obliged all the same. You'd never regretted anything more in your life in that moment.

“Hey Topper,” you smiled.

“Have you seen Rafe yet?” he asked.

“No, not yet,” you smiled slightly faltered, but you kept the smile up for good appearances. When you’d gone to Tannyhill yesterday, only Ward, Rose, and Wheezie were in, so your anxiety around seeing Rafe had grown. One day, he’d just stopped replying. Not one reason, not one apology. Nothing. One part of you wanted to say he didn’t even deserve to see you, and another missed her best friend/ supposed love of her life. “Is he around?”

“He is, but he’s high as shit,” Topper laughed. Rafe Cameron? Rafe Cameron was getting high?

“Rafe is high?”

“Oh yeah, he’s totally into all that shit now,” he laughed and you noticed the dilated pupils, the white residue on his nose, the red, irritated skin of his nose. He was high too. “It’s good shit too, you want some?”

“I’m good, just point me in Rafe’s direction,” you nodded, deeply uncomfortable with the drugs around. You’d grown up with a brother who did drugs, who’d died from drugs at the young age of 17. You didn’t want anything to do with drugs, but here you were, being led into one of the Figure 8 mansions to be led to Rafe Cameron, selling, and doing drugs.

“Gentleman, I present to you, the Princess of Figure 8, making her great return, Bunny!” he cheered as all eyes turned to you. The group of boys cheered, getting up to give you a group hug. Rafe stayed seated.

“How’s life on the mainland Bun?How was Cali?” Kelce asked, sitting down beside you as you joined the circle, trying to ignore the cocaine on the table.

“It’s fine, but I’m back in the Outer Banks for good now,” you smiled as another round of cheers rippled through the group.

“We’re finally good enough for you again?” Topper joked. “What’s brought you back home huh? Aside from the strapping young men?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m teaching here Top, I'm in my third year of college.”

“Shit no way, you’re a teacher?” Ryan, a sleeze you remembered from school. He was always the creepy guy, trying to look up girls' skirts and play kiss-tag at the ripe old age of 12. “You're way too sexy to be a teacher. You should be a pornstar or something.”

You felt bile rise in your stomach as a handful of the boys laughed at the joke.

“That’s not funny,” Kelce defended. “Fuck off asshole.”

“What? You and I both have eyes and we can both see her tits. Too bad Cameron has dibs.”

You froze and looked to Rafe who was looking at you through hooded eyes.

The silence was awkward, and you knew it was time to take your leave, even though you hadn’t said a word to Rafe, so you said your goodbyes and left in search of the pogues.

------------------

“Gentleman, I present to you, the Princess of Figure 8, making her great return, Bunny!” Topper announced as all eyes turned to you.

Holy fucking shit. You were gorgeous, and it was you. Rafe’s Y/n. Rafe’s Bun. He was shocked to see you in the Outer Banks again, let alone in person again. You were here. In front of him. Then he realised, you were here. Here, where there was cocaine on the table, and he was the one selling it. Here, where there were about three guys looking at you like you were a piece of meat. Here, where he sat at the top of the table, stoned out of his mind.

“How’s life on the mainland Bun? How was Cali?” Kelce asked, sitting down beside you as you joined the circle. Rafe could see you trying to ignore the table, staring directly at Kelce, all your attention on him. He couldn’t help but feel jealous. You were his best friend before you were anyone else’s friend. He’d known you better than anyone. And here he was, silent as he watched you talk to everyone else.

“It’s fine, but I’m back in the Outer Banks for good now.”

His heart almost stopped. Back in the Outer Banks, for good.

“We’re finally good enough for you again?” Topper joked. “What’s brought you back home huh? Aside from the strapping young men?”

You rolled your eyes at him, but Rafe could tell it was playful. God, his life was so fun when you had been in it. Impromptu boat rides and trips to the mainland, spending hours just talking and laughing about nothing and everything all at the same time. He missed it. He missed you.“I’m teaching here Top, I'm in my third year of college.”

“Shit no way, you’re a teacher?” Ryan. Rafe often wondered why he even kept him around. He could feel the awful comment coming, but he knew he couldn’t stop it. “You're way too sexy to be a teacher. You should be a pornstar or something.”

Rafe felt the anger boil in his blood the second he said it. Ryan should’ve known better than to talk about you like that.

“That’s not funny,” Kelce defended, beating Rafe to it. “Fuck off asshole.”

“What? You and I both have eyes and we can both see her tits. Too bad Cameron has dibs.”

Rafe stared back at you as you truly looked at him for the first time that night. He couldn’t tell how you felt, something he didn’t like. Ever since you two were kids, he could always tell how you were feeling, what you were thinking. He could always anticipate what you needed. He didn’t know now and it scared him. He just looked back into your beautiful eyes, allowing himself to be lost in the fact that you were here in front of him.

The silence was awkward and he knew it, so he didn’t protest when you took your leave, even if he wanted to. He spoke when he knew you were out of ear and eyeshot, he didn't need you know what he was about to do.

“Ryan?” he scoffed. “You have ten seconds.”

“Until what?” Ryan chuckled.

Rafe counted down the seconds in his head, Topper and Kelce became more and more uneasy as the seconds went by.

Rafe didn’t even give warning, he just got up, grabbed a nearby beer bottle, and smashed it over his head. Nobody dared to stop him, not even when he started punching Ryan, promising to kill him if he ever spoke about you like that again.

People knew not to fuck with Rafe and, even after all these years, you were an extension of Rafe. Too bad Ryan forgot that.

------------------

obx masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron one shot #rafe obx #rafe cameron x reader fluff #rafe imagine #rafe cameron x reader angst #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader

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loveandmurders · 3 months ago

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love your writing! how do you think the menagerie of murderers would react if their current crush/victim/hostage refers to them exclusivelly as "Mister [lastname]" even after they know their first name? would some prefer it that way? get off to the power synamic implied? would some insist on being called by their first name? would they not gaf? asking for Tommy Vincent and Brahms specifically but if you can do more i'd love that~

Hello there! I don't take request anymore but my mind instantly knew how each character you mentionned would react, so here a quick answer for you! (I added Bo and Lester)

I hope you'll enjoy <3

Warning: absolutely no proof reading, mentions of murders and violence, mentions of sexual desire, nothing else I think

Thomas Hewitt

Tommy would be confused as hell at first. Why would you call him "Mister Hewitt"? The man has never been called that way in his entire existence.

Of course, he understands you're trying to be polite, and it's better than being insulted... But he has a secret little crush on you (he thinks it's a secret but the whole family can tell) so it hurts him quite a lot that you are not calling him by his name. For him, it is as if you were putting barriers between the two of you. He wants you to be more intimate with him. He needs it actually or he is going to lose his mind.

He definitively asks his Mama (he is too shy to ask you directly) to tell you to stop calling him that, and to start calling him "Thomas" (which makes him feel so hot when you do) or "Tommy" (which makes him melt with pure love for you).

Bo Sinclair

Bo has tied you up on his chair and he is ready to toy with you in the nastiest way possible.

But he stops dead in his track when he hears you call him "Mister Sinclair" as you plead with him to not hurt you. He can't recall the last time he has been called that way and for an instant he doesn't know what to think about it. He asks you to repeat your words, which you instantly do, hopeful you might have found a cheatcode.

As he repeats the words inside his head over and over again, he moves his tongue over his dry lips and starts to understand he actually likes it a lot. It sounds even hotter coming out from your pretty mouth. Ok, you win, he won't hurt you as long as you keep calling him that way. God forbid he is getting hard from such a simple way. Also, he is losing it if you start calling him "Sir" as well.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent instantly liked you among your little tourist group and this is why you're still alive, currently wandering around in the house. In your point of view, you're some sort of hostage, without really knowing what the brothers want from you.

But Vinny doesn't see it that way. You're his muse.

At first you don't know you are alive thanks to him; you even feel like he seems to avoid you as much as possible. Actually he is just watching you from far away. When he finally gathers the courage to be around you, he is so surprised to hear you call him "Mister Sinclair". He definitively enjoys the politeness of it. It also reminds him that he isn't his "mama's boy" anymore. He is a man. It makes him want to take care of you like a "man" would take care of you. But after a little while, he really needs you to call him by his name or even better by a nickname to show him you like him (even just a little).

Lester Sinclair

Lester is very happy you aren't calling him a "freak" or insulting him, despite the current situation (all your friends are dead and you're alive because Lester pleaded with his big brothers).

He is even astonished you are still so polite to him, like the first time you met on the dusty road of Louisiana. He isn't used of people being polite to him, and he is a little bit worried you are actually just scared of him. He really doesn't want that.

In addition, he HATES with burning passion you calling him "Mister Sinclair". Mister Sinclair was his father and fuck he hated that man and all the awful things he did to him and his brothers. So no, please, call him Lester, call him Les, call him anything you want, but not Mister. Even "Freak" would hurt less in fact. He doesn't really like "Sir" either because he doesn't feel like that. He is just "Lester".

Brahms Heelshire

For Brahms, it is normal and even expected that you call him "Mister" and that you are all polite and nice around him.

Your are his new nanny, you are stuck with him now and you better respect the rules and respect him.

But he can't deny that the way you pronounce those words instantly does things to him. If you are gently greeting him in the morning, he is promising himself he's going to be a good boy to you today. If you are scolding him because there is mud eveywhere in the living room, he gets sad and helps you clean up instantly. If you say this in between kisses, he is absolutely going feral for you.

"Mister Heelshire" used to be a way to show him some respect, now it is some sort of spell that wraps him up all around your little finger.

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its-avalon-08 · 9 months ago

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Hi! i love daniel riccardo and lando norris, can you maybe do one where you are daniel's best friend and end up falling for lando? you grew up in an abusive childhood so daniel is fiercly protective of u, and he doesn't like that lando is flirting with u (daniel and y/n is purely platonic pls),

i'll always be your home (dr3 platonic + ln4)

tw- abusive household

the monaco grand prix was always a chaotic spectacle, but this year, the real drama was brewing off the track. you, ever the loyal friend, sat with daniel in the mclaren hospitality area, dodging champagne showers and lando's relentless teasing.

"hey bubs," lando sidled up, a mischievous glint in his eye, "think you can handle a real yacht party later? not like those snooze-fests danny drags you to."

daniel, already bristling at lando's nickname for you, snorted. "actually, y/n loves classic rock marathons. much better than your dubstep-infused ear torture."

you squeezed daniel's arm, stifling a laugh. "don't worry, honey badger, i can handle both." you'd picked up his playful nickname for himself, a constant reminder of his unwavering support.

growing up in an abusive environment had left scars, but daniel had become your anchor. he saw past your nervous flinches and forced smiles, his protectiveness a constant comfort.

later that night, under the twinkling lights of monte carlo, you found yourself drawn to lando's easy charm. you dueled with him on jet skis, his laughter echoing across the water, a sound that sent shivers down your spine. he felt like home, like a sense of comfort and safety.

noticing your growing closeness, daniel pulled you aside. his smile was strained. "y/n, are you ok?"

"yeah, why wouldn't i be?"

"lando," he said, his voice low. "he can be… a lot."

you sighed. "daniel, i can handle lando. i want to handle him."

silence stretched between you. daniel's gaze softened, a hint of pain flashing through his blue eyes. "i just want to make sure you're happy, safe. you deserve the best, y/n."

tears welled up in your eyes. you squeezed his hand. "i am happy, thanks to you. you're like a brother to me and i love you for it, but… lando makes me feel…" you trailed off, unable to articulate the unfamiliar butterflies in your stomach.

daniel chuckled, the sound laced with relief. "like you're on a rollercoaster? lando can be a bit of a daredevil." he paused, then added, "but if he ever hurts you…"

you finished his sentence with a mock glare. "honey badger unleashed, right?"

he grinned, the familiar twinkle back in his eyes. "exactly. now, go have fun. just… promise me you'll be careful, alright?"

you threw your arms around him in a hug. "always."

the next few weeks were a whirlwind. you and lando went on secret dates, stolen kisses under the guise of "team strategy meetings." daniel, ever the detective, noticed your flushed cheeks and lingering smiles, but a relieved smile played on his lips whenever he saw you genuinely happy.

the sun beat down on the budapest paddock, reflecting off lando's helmet as he peeled it off. daniel, ever the opportunist, snagged him before he could disappear.

"lando, a word?" daniel's voice was quiet, a stark contrast to his usual boisterousness.

lando followed him into a shaded corner, a playful grin fading as he saw the seriousness etched on daniel's face. "alright, mate, what's up?"

daniel hesitated, running a hand through his sweat-damp hair. "look, lando, i know you and y/n have been… hitting it off lately."

lando's grin returned, a touch sheepish. "yeah, she's pretty awesome, isn't she?"

"she is," daniel agreed, his voice heavy. "but there's something you need to know about her."

lando's smile faltered completely. he'd noticed the flinch y/n sometimes had, the way she seemed to shut down in certain situations. he hadn't pushed, but it had gnawed at him.

daniel took a deep breath. "y/n… she's been through a lot. more than you know." he hesitated again, then continued, his voice low. "she doesn't deserve to be hurt, lando. not again."

lando felt a pang in his chest. the playful teasing suddenly felt cruel in light of what daniel was implying. "hurt her? mate, i would never—"

daniel cut him off, his voice thick with emotion. "you wouldn't believe the things she's had to deal with. the strength it takes her just to get through the day…" he trailed off, wiping a hand across his eyes. "i just… i promised myself i'd protect her."

lando stared at him, his heart clenching. he'd never seen daniel like this, so vulnerable. a new respect bloomed for the man who was more than just a teammate, but a fierce protector.

"daniel," lando said, his voice firm despite the tremor in his hands. "listen to me. y/n is incredible. kind, funny, strong as hell. and the way she lights up when you talk to her… it's something special."

daniel looked up, a flicker of hope in his eyes. "you… you care about her?"

"care about her?" lando scoffed, a genuine smile breaking through. "mate, i'm smitten. i haven't been able to stop thinking about her since that night in monaco. but trust me, hurting her is the last thing i'd ever do. i want to make her happy, to be there for her the way you have been."

daniel's shoulders slumped in relief. a watery smile played on his lips. "just… don't mess up, alright? she deserves the world."

"i know," lando promised, a newfound determination burning in his eyes. "i'll take care of her, mate. you can count on me."

from then on, things shifted. lando toned down the teasing, replaced by genuine care. he made an effort to understand your past, offering a supportive ear and a shoulder to lean on.

the hungarian twilight cast long shadows across the budapest track, the last embers of the setting sun painting the sky in fiery hues. you leaned against the railing, the city lights twinkling below, a bittersweet ache settling in your chest.

the race had been exhilarating, a nail-biting finish that left you breathless. lando and daniel did amazingly.

suddenly, a familiar voice broke the silence. "lost in thought, shoey queen?" lando stood beside you, his blue eyes holding a hesitant warmth.

you offered a small smile. "just reflecting on the race. it was incredible."

he nodded, then cleared his throat nervously. "listen, y/n, there's something i… something i've been wanting to say."

his vulnerability sent a jolt through you. you'd seen lando's playful facade, the charming daredevil who thrived on competition. but this lando, standing before you with a tremor in his voice, was captivating.

"alright," you encouraged, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs.

he took a deep breath. "these past few weeks… they've been incredible. getting to know you, not just as daniel's best friend, but as y/n. you're strong, funny, and you have this incredible spark in your eyes that makes me want to be a better person."

his words washed over you, each one a brushstroke painting a picture of affection you hadn't dared to imagine. tears welled up in your eyes, a mixture of joy and a fear of vulnerability you hadn't fully conquered.

"y/n," he continued, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "i know you've been through a lot. and i want you to know, whatever it is, i'm here for you. to listen, to support you, to be your shoulder to cry on."

he reached out, his thumb gently brushing away a stray tear that trailed down your cheek. the simple touch ignited a thousand unspoken emotions within you.

"so," he said, his voice thick with emotion, "would you like to… maybe go out sometime? just you and me. no strategy meetings or champagne showers, just a chance to get to know each other better."

the weight of his sincerity settled upon you, a comforting blanket against your past hurts. you met his gaze, a newfound determination sparkling in your own eyes.

"i'd like that very much, lando," you whispered, a single tear slipping down your cheek, this time a tear of pure hope.

he smiled, a radiant beam that chased away the twilight shadows. in that moment, under the budapest sky, bathed in the soft glow of the city lights, you knew this was just the beginning of something special.

later that night, you found daniel by the pool, a beer in his hand. "so," he said gruffly, "what happened with lando?"

a shy smile spread across your face. "he asked me out. officially."

he raised an eyebrow. "and?"

"and i said yes."

his lips twitched. "about time, shoey queen." he held you in a tight hug. "just promise me one thing."

you pulled back, concern flickering in your eyes. "anything."

"take care of each other. and if he ever breaks your heart…"

"honey badger unleashed, i know."

you both laughed, the sound echoing through the night. you knew daniel would always be there, a fierce protector turned loving friend, and with lando by your side, you were finally ready for something more.

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

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finniestoncrane · 1 year ago

Text

Date, Digger Style

KTJL!Boomer x Fem!Reader, word count: 6k hi i am sorry, this was supposed to be like. a lil silly thing about what a first date with george might be like. and it ended up being 6k words. i just want him so bad it makes me look stupid quite honestly and i am ok with that 💙 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: sleazy behaviour, groping, tongue kissing, just the tip and then not just the tip but agreeably so, lots of physical affection, reader has tits and a vagina, reader is referred to with feminine pet names, descriptions of a gross kitchen, also let's pretend that he's always a lil bit drunk so his drunk driving seems like the normal state of things. he's a villain. he's allowed to break laws lmao (and it's fiction, so i'm allowed to decide what alcohol does to him)

Sitting on the edge of your sofa, you took a quick look at your phone to check the time and to see if you had missed any messages. Nothing. Not even a quick courtesy text with "on my way" typed hastily, or auto filled. You'd been sitting there for twenty minutes already, with no sign of George. If this was what he considered a good start to your first formal 'date' then you two were perhaps too different after all to make this work. He was laid back, to a flaw. Horizontal. And you were more organised, at least more so than George Harkness.

Just as you began typing out a message, you heard the tell-tale screech of the tyres on his van, followed by the rumbling of the engine as he put the brakes on and came out of the creaking door. The sharp buzz at your door was enough for you to know your suspicions were right, and without answering it, you headed downstairs. At the door, you could see Digger, picking at his teeth and tucking the stray strands of hair back under the rim of his hat before he noticed you and struck a pose, goofy smile plastered onto his face.

He moved to grab you when you met him on the steps leading up to your building, but you dodged him, spitting his nickname at him.

"Digger."

"Aw, are you mad cos I'm late? You're not some bloody princess, I think you can wait five minutes!"

"Twenty minutes."

"Twenty, the- Twenty!?"

His eyes were wide as he looked to you, and you offered a solemn and unimpressed nod in response.

"Fuck... alright, that is a bit much. This'll be worth it though, I promise."

Raising an eyebrow, you silently questioned that. You'd known him for a while now, skirted around the conversation, flirted constantly, but turned him down at every offer of a date. And now, when you had finally agreed and given in to his constant pestering, he was going to show up late and not even dressed differently or in clean clothes? You weren't sure it would be worth it. But, if all else failed, you could always count on him to make you laugh, or at very least conjure up a smile. And despite wanting to still maintain an exterior of disappointment, you could feel the corners of your mouth lifting as he opened up the passenger door and gestured to it with his arm, bowing low.

"M'lady, your carriage awaits."

As you stepped up and into the front of the van, the smell was the first thing that hit you. Stale beer, sweat, and about five other scents just indistinct enough to elude your keen nose. Trying not to think about it, you turned to grab your seatbelt and noticed, out of the corner of your eye, that the back of the truck was filled with empty beer cans and bottles, piles of clothing, some dirty and some clean. And in the middle of it all, a mattress, some pillows, and a scattering of sheets.

"Do you live in here?"

"Don't worry about it, babe."

Before you could ask him any follow up questions, he pulled away from the kerb with a stuttering acceleration, and carelessly pulled into traffic. After a few minutes of teeth grinding, life-threatening driving at high speed, he pulled off the main roads and began taking back streets.

Granted, you didn't know where you were going yet, since Digger was insistent on keeping it as a surprise, you still assumed that after ten minutes of nothing but roads dotted with potholes and routes plagued by speedbumps that it was surely quicker to have stayed on the main route until you were closer. However, it became clear that there were intentions behind this path after all, when you turned to question George about the route and found him quickly glancing from the road to your chest, smiling wider every time a bump jostled your body, causing your breasts to jiggle. With a heavy sigh, you turned to look out of the window, concealing the smile that threatened to give away your façade. There was no way you could let him know how oddly flattering you found his constant gawking, that would be a nightmare.

When the van stopped at a red light, you spoke, still looking out of the window, to try and get Digger to tell you where you were going.

"I just would feel better knowing how long we've got left to drive is all."

He reached over to you, placing his hand on your thigh and pressing his fingers and thumb together, squeezing the ample flesh.

"Listen, don't worry about it, we're almost there."

His palm pressed down and skimmed further up your leg, and as you turned to catch his eye, hoping to at least shame him into not continuing his bold heavy petting, you were instead met with his lopsided, careless grin. With one hand on the steering wheel and one permanently on your thigh, he continued driving for another ten minutes, until you were well on the outskirts of the city. When the van finally stopped, you could still hear the tinny rumbling and sharp clinking of the empty bottles and cans bashing around in the back, feeling like it had shrilly inserted itself permanently into your head. But once you had stepped out of the van and the fresh air, plus the odd stench, hit you, you could hear yourself think clear enough to know that you were definitely beginning to regret this decision once more.

"Told ya we wouldn't be much longer! We're here!"

"Where is here?"

"About twenty minutes outside Gotham."

"Digger."

He slapped his hand on your back and pulled you into a side hug, dragging you along as he walked towards the door of the flat roof building with broken neon lights that stood in front of you.

"Ah, come on babe! Get a sense of humour, or you'll always look fuckin' miserable!"

You weren't sure if he could hear your sighing over the sound of the gravel as you made your way to the front door, and he definitely couldn't hear the louder second one you let out when you got inside. The one that was cut short when you realised you could taste the smell that lingered on the air.

Taking your hand, an oddly gentle move from Digger. The moment was gone quickly when he smacked your ass as he ushered you into the dingiest looking booth at the back of the bar.

"George, really? Here?"

"Yeah, babe! This place is great. Cheap beer, good food. I promise, you just gotta trust me, alright?"

Taking a quick look around the place told you otherwise. But there was just something about him you found hard to say no to. Which you imagined would land you in much bigger problems later on, but for now, potential food poisoning and a hangover of the worst order seemed like a fair risk for what would no doubt be a fun night regardless. It always was with George.

"Aw, I know that face! You're on board! Right, I'm gonna go to the bar and get us some drinks and food."

"I don't know what I want though, I haven't looked at the menu."

"Don't have to, I'm getting us the usual. You'll like it, tr-"

"Trust you, yes, I know."

With a wink, he slid out of the booth and you watched him make his way to the bar, leaning on it with his oh-so-cocky attitude as he ordered for you. And when he sat back down, he slid a pint in front of you and began chugging at his own. Looking over the tip of your glass as you sipped, you tried to get a glimpse at the kitchen. From what you could see, it looked like the kind of place that might give any decent health inspector an aneurysm. The chef's clothes were dirty, the walls were a stained yellow colour that seemed as though it was dripping down the walls, and every surface had a strange assortment of crumbs and stains on it. But still, you persevered.

And still, when the plates were slammed down on the table in front of you by the uninterested waitress, you were optimistic. Because you were determined to have a nice time. It was likely that which annoyed you the most of all, because the moment you bit into the greasy sandwich you didn't care in the slightest what kind of health hazard it was prepared in. You just wanted more.

"See, told you it was good."

Nodding in agreement, mouth too full to speak, you swallowed down the rest of the sandwich, although by the time you had finished it and your accompanying beer, Digger was already onto his third pint, and the sandwich was but a memory. Until he burped and you could smell it on his breath, something he found hilarious.

"Lighten up! You try, give it your best shot."

"I'm not having a burping contest with you, George. We're on a date."

"Yeah, but you're on a date with Digger. Way more fun, far less stuffy. Go on."

You mustered up the best you had to offer, cheese and beer and lettuce the most noted flavours in the air you expelled. Closing his eyes for a moment, Digger reached out across the table and took your hands.

"That was, without a doubt... the most pathetic fuckin' burp ever. We gotta get you another drink!"

Before you could say anything, he was already shuffling out of the booth and shakily making his way back to the bar. A bad decision being made and you couldn't really stop him. He could handle his alcohol, definitely, you'd seen him do it a number of times before. Digger could put away what might kill a lesser, for want of a better word, man. But it didn't make him any easier to be around. You'd already found yourself flushing hot, cheeks darkening, a heat building in your stomach with each lingering touch or flirtatious stare. So far this evening, you'd almost kissed him twice. It wasn't going to be any easier to prolong what you felt was the inevitable if he got far too drunk and became his usual, handsy self.

Of course, that's exactly what did happen. One more pint in and Digger was all over you in the booth. He'd leaned in at first to say something to you, speaking over the noise of the bar, close to your ear, his arm reaching up and around you and pulling you close and then keeping you there. As his fingers stroked at your shoulder, the other hand fell to your thigh, periodically squeezing it between his fingers and thumb. And every time you got distracted by how far up your thigh he was snaking his palm, fingers splayed out, pinkie grazing over your crotch, his other hand would pull your attention away as his fingertips skimmed over the top of your breasts.

It was difficult to try and hold him off. You were both tipsy, or at least you were tipsy, Digger seemed to be wasted. No good decision could come from that. But the way he touched you, the way he smelled as he leaned in, sweat, cheap body spray, acrid beer, it was intoxicating. If you'd been any less sober you might have leaned in then and there in the booth to kiss him, tasting the alcohol on his tongue, letting him put his hands all over you, anywhere, anywhere. But luckily, before you could make what you knew was a mistake, he sat back and laughed, one loud and sharp 'ha'.

"I fuckin' love this song, babe! C'mon!"

Before you could argue otherwise, you were being dragged out of the booth to join Digger on the tiny dance floor in front of the band. The song was difficult to dance to, at least you had assumed, given the heavy rock riffs that underlined the inaudible, high volume lyrics. But George wasn't deterred. It was almost endearing, how horrendously embarrassing he was, standing there with his air guitar, throwing goat horns at the band as he bounced on the spot. Cute, nearly. But mercifully cut short as the song ended.

"Aw, just as I was finding my groove."

You smiled at him, rubbing his shoulder in sympathy, biting your inner cheek as you felt how strong he was, impressed by his muscular arm as you let your hand slip down to graze over it.

"A real shame, George. Let's go back to- "

The band started up again, this time, a slower song, one that lent itself well to the kind of 'end of prom' vibes all young lovers were hoping for. And before you could finish your suggestion of heading back to the booth, Digger had pulled you close, his arms around your back, falling to your waist as he swayed back and forth. It could have been dancing, it could have been the uncoordinated shuffling of a man who had one too many beers, but either way, you leaned into it, allowing your head to rest against his chest while you placed your hands, linked together, at the nape of his neck.

It was almost too romantic, in its own, strange way. The dim lights, the other couples around you, the unique twang on the guitars, the stench of the greasy food, and the way George kept his hips, his crotch, pressed tight to you as you leaned against him. Not particularly from a storybook romance, but perfect all the same. You'd known this would happen. One date, and you were already falling for him. Not because of anything he'd done, but because deep down you knew you had been into him, since almost the moment you'd met. But you'd fought it, because men like George Harkness, you assumed, weren't the kind of nice boy you dated.

But here he was, holding you, swaying you, sighing softly as the music swelled. Granted the movements weren't exactly graceful, but they were surprisingly fluid, as though he might be good at dancing when he was sober. Yet another surprise for you to learn about, but obviously not right now. He was trying though, his hands at a respectable height, his head leaning on your shoulder. Every so often, he nuzzled into your cheek, placing a soft kiss to it when the notion took him. And when the song finished, you could hear his words clear, spoken gently into your ear.

"You wanna head out?"

You weren't sure if that was "out" as in "get some fresh air" or "out" as in "let's head home, yours or mine" but either option seemed good. The last remaining bit of sun and a soothing breeze might be enough to sober George up before you brought him back in for more dancing. And if it didn't, you were happy to take him to your place for a coffee, nothing more. Although, you were potentially considering letting him sleep on the sofa. You couldn't imagine how difficult it would be to nurse a hangover in the back of his van.

Outside, finally able to breathe without choking on the stench or the thickness of the air, you watched as Digger shielded his eyes from the sky. His stumbling stopped, and he began walking with his usual confidence, almost sobering up immediately in the light of the day.

"Christ! Still pretty bright out here..."

"Yeah, it's not that late. You tapping out early, George?"

"Nah, nah. Not at all! If I've got you for the night, then I'm havin' you for the night. C'mon, I know a place."

Admittedly, and strangely enough, you really hadn't had enough of him yet. It was one of the few things you agreed on, actually. This was supposed to be a date, you'd set aside the evening for it, so you were keen to make it last as long as possible. You couldn't let George know that, though. Keeping the upperhand seemed to be key with him, so you offered him a reluctant smile and rolled your eyes dramatically.

"Well, I suppose so."

Stepping up into the passenger seat of his van you caught him smiling back at you, knowingly. You weren't kidding him, he wasn't as stupid as he seemed at first pass, but he was kind enough to let you keep up the ruse. It didn't stop him getting a little dig in at you, however.

"Are you sure? If you're not keen I can take you home, babe. Wouldn't want you to be bored or something."

"And where are you planning on taking me that isn't boring, then?"

"Eh... just a little spot I know of. Quiet, secluded. Up that back road to the overlook. But again, if you're not into it..."

"No, no. It sounds... well, it doesn't sound boring, anyway."

Digger laughed, starting up the van which groaned horrendously before sputtering to life. Before he drove off, he turned to you and winked.

"Definitely won't be, it never is with me, babe."

Pulling out of the parking lot, he turned away from the city and onto the quieter roads which led out past the city lines and into the expansive countryside that secluded Gotham from the rest of the world. From the window, you watched the sun slowly setting, clouds turning purple and navy as they pushed in from the sides like curtains on a stage show. You had all the time in the world to gaze peacefully, as George was driving in complete silence, way below the speed limit, focusing intensely on the road. He'd seemed to sober up once you were out of the bar, but you didn't want to distract him while he was doing his best to keep you both alive.

The van bounced along a short dirt trail until it stopped in a small clearing, surrounded by trees on all sides and far above the dim, intrusive glow of the city, which buzzed against the now deep, navy sky. Shutting off the engine, George turned and shot you a smile, eyebrows raised playfully, before he leapt out. He walked quickly to the back of the van and you followed, waiting patiently as he opened the two back doors wide, finally giving you a better look at what had been rolling around there the whole time he had been driving.

There wasn't much you could think to say, being of the opinion that you should only speak if you had kind things to say. From where you were standing, you could definitely tell that you had been correct in your earlier assumptions. This was where he lived. His rolling apartment. Convenient, yes. But it was a long way away from being one of the trendy 'tiny homes' you'd seen. The walls were adorned with four posters in total, all of them the kind of cheap standards you would expect in the bargain bin of some ancient music store, miscellaneous women in very little clothing gazing out as seductively as they could from the airbrushed backdrops. On the floor, there was a stick and poke tattoo kit that looked like it might be the source of several new variants of hepatitis, and it was littered with empty beer bottles and cans, some of which may have been half-full at the point he decided to drive off given how sticky the surfaces looked. And to top it off, there was a worn out mattress. No sheets on it, no sheets around it save for one scruffy blanket. It was covered in stains that you couldn't quite place, which matched the single, dented and almost flat pillow that lay haphazardly to the side.

"You live like this?"

That was what you had wanted to say, but again, your polite nature stopped you.

"Handy to just get in the van and sleep, or get out of bed and go."

George smiled, looking oddly proud of himself.

"See, you get it. You won't believe the amount of people who have been put off by- uh... well..."

He looked to the ground, rubbing at the back of his neck with his hand.

"Not that there's been that many people I've invited into- A-and not that there haven't been any people that have been-"

"George."

You placed a hand on his shoulder and raised your eyebrows, offering him a sympathetic grin. He took the out, thankful that you'd put an end to his suffering, and reached in for the blanket, placing it flat over the top of the bed before offering his hand to you. Taking it, he helped you shift yourself into the back of the van, watching as you got comfortable on the mattress as best as you could, at which point he joined you.

Leaning back on his arms, he looked to the sky, sitting in silence for a few minutes. You had joined him, watching the stars start to sparkle as they became visible against the darkening backdrop. At some point, you realised that he was staring at you, and you wondered how long you'd had his gaze trained on the side of your head. Not on any other part of your body, you noted. He was looking at your face, gazing at your eyes. When you turned, you caught his stare immediately, smiling softly when he blinked and looked away with a cough meant to clear the air of the awkwardness he was bringing about.

Rooting around behind him, he eventually found two unopened beer cans, both of which were loose amongst the rest of his belongings. Keeping one for himself, he passed the other to you. He raised his, tipping his head with a 'cheers' and then cracked it open. You watched the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped, a small trickle of foam slipping past his lips and down his chin. The urge to lean in and lick it off was disturbing, most of all because you felt yourself moving towards him before you even realised it. Settling back down into the strange romance of the moment, you pulled the tab on your own can.

The immediate explosion, the build up of pressure and gasses from the can being jostled around as you drove up the bumpy, dirt track to the spot you now sat in, left you in shock. Your shirt was soaked, completely, and the cool air was already beginning to chill your body. You blinked in shock, watching as Boomer tried to conceal his giggles while he stood up.

"Take your shirt off."

Looking to him, you raised an eyebrow, a look that said "is this really how you're going to make that move?" in a way that he read almost straight away. He began unzipping his blue hoodie, turning from you and passing it behind him, generously, and uncharacteristically, offering you some privacy.

Taking it from him, you quickly made the swap, your body exposed to the cold night air only briefly before you zipped up the hoodie, still warm from Digger's body. You tucked your bra and shirt under the mattress, making a mental note to collect them before you were home, hoping they would be dry. Making sure the zip was up completely, not offering any suggestive cleavage for Digger to hook his ideas into, you settled yourself, noticing that you were smiling. You could smell him on the fabric that covered your body. Beer, sweat, lingering smoke, an acrid smell you couldn't quite place and a sweet one on top of that. As the fabric grazed over you, you could feel your nipples hardening. It wasn't the cold though, it was faint arousal at the way you felt so close to him.

"You done yet, you're only putting a hoodie on!"

"Shit, yeah, sorry."

"I can look?"

He raised his hands, pulling them from his pockets and holding them up to his side, questioningly.

"Mhm, yeah."

When he was facing you again, he let his lips turn into an appreciative expression.

"Looks good. Suits you!"

Thudding back down beside you, George immediately lifted his arm up, wrapping it around your body and pulling you close. You found yourself settling into the hug, a natural embrace, one that made your heart flutter slightly as you let your head rest entirely against him. And then it happened, the moment that secured your confusion about him and his intentions. He sighed wistfully. So deep and joyous, his fingers digging into your arm to let you know you were the reason for the warmth spreading through him.

"It's nice out here, you can actually see the stars. Couldn't tell you what any of them were though."

"Are you kidding me right now?"

He turned slightly to look at you.

"What?"

"What? What are you doing? You brought me up here to look at the stars?"

George narrowed his eyes, his brow furrowing in confusion and slight irritation.

"Yeah! I thought it would be romantic!"

"Exactly!"

"Exa-... what?"

"You're so confusing. This whole evening, you yourself, it's not how I thought it would be. I mean, it wouldn't be you without the occasional grope and cheeky wink, but you've been so... You're so... It's weird to see you being so..."

Digger's hand fell to your thigh, a light pressure aiming to calm you down.

"So what?"

You couldn't answer it, because you weren't even able to settle on a definitive answer yourself.

So confusing?

So disgusting?

So gentlemanly?

So romantic?

So hot?

All of that and more.

And when words had failed you, you decided that you'd have to express your feelings another way.

It was less of a romantic, graceful move and more that you sank into him, falling against his body, your lips luckily making contact with his as you both found your way in the kiss. Neither of you expected it, both of you surprised. The tenderness, the hunger behind it. You could taste everything about him, smell him even better than you had when you had put on his hoodie. You expected he was experiencing the same.

Digger fell back, his hands catching your waist as he pulled you with him, both of you laying now on the mattress in the back of his van. His hands pawed, grabbed, skimmed over you, oddly restrained in fact. That was until you shifted yourself up and onto him, straddling his hips and staring down at him, panting heavily as you both caught your breath and took stock of the situation you were now in. His hands on your waist made their way up to your shoulders, your neck, cupping your cheeks as he grinned at you. Watching your face, your expression, for any subtle changes as he let his hands trail back down your front, fingers catching on to the zip of his hoodie and pulling it down slowly, opening it to expose you to him before he cupped at your breasts as you bit your lip.

"Fuck me..."

Digger let out a low groan that followed his short, to the point statement. His fingers circled your nipples, tightening around them as he teased you. His hips bucked up, jostling you, letting you feel how hard he was. You could tell just from that motion that the rumours about how gifted he was had truth behind them.

Bending down to kiss him again, you let your tongue slip past his lips, his own meeting in your mouth. He tasted divine. Sweet, but acidic. Earthy almost, definitely addictive. Everything felt dream like, surreal. Mostly, you assumed, because you were doing something you'd never dream of, something you knew was ill-advised, a little bit silly, embarrassing in the right company. But it was hard to care.

You were quickly brought out of the dream like state however, as you felt Digger's hands between both of your crotches, unbuckling his belt and fiddling with the zipper on his jeans.

"Wait... on the first date? You think you've charmed me enough for that?"

With the smug, self-satisfied grin you had grown oddly fond of, George looked into your eyes as he spoke.

"I think you started this, so it's a pretty good indication of how much I've charmed you."

He winked as he let his fingers tug at the waistband of your own pants, pulling at them as you leaned in to another kiss. Your attempts to stop him, or at least to pretend that was your intention, were put to one side as your body reacted to the feeling of the cool air against your bare skin, his hands, rougher than you expected, holding your thighs, pulling your pants down further until he needed you to move.

"Well... have I charmed the pants off you at least?"

Smiling back at him, you nodded your head from side to side as though you were weighing up his efforts over the evening.

"I suppose you have charmed the pants off me, yes. But... I'm not sure how much further your winning personality has gotten you."

"There's plenty of time for me to catch up, then."

Clumsily, and with very little grace, you shifted and removed your pants, blushing as you noticed Digger watching you intensely, taking note of every movement, every second of you undresssing, as though you were offering him the performance of a lifetime. As you steadied yourself, he hooked his fingers into the band of your underwear and pulled you back to him, landing you flat on top o f his body, your hands on his chest.

Teasing at the band of your panties, he dipped two fingers underneath the fabric, skating over your mound and down to your lips, stroking them gently before spreading them apart. He rubbed one finger up and down, collecting your slick as he licked his lips, desperate to know how you tasted. Bringing his fingers to his lips, he ran them on his tongue, sucking them with his eyes rolling back.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck me."

He continued unzipping his pants and pulling them down, boxers included, to reveal his more than impressive cock. At least ten inches, easily, thick, perfect, topped with a tuft of almost flaming red hair. Trying to control yourself, you leaned back.

"What are you planning on doing with that, Harkness?"

He squirmed, pressing his eyes shut and biting his lip before he managed to strain himself enough to speak.

"I just want... I want you... touch it... feel you... something... come on, please!"

Shuffling forward, teasing him knowingly as you felt his head, his length, against your thighs, you mused out loud, humming as though you were actually considering it, as though you hadn't already made your mind up yet.

"I suppose... this was a pleasant enough date. I could give you something, throw you a bone."

He nodded furiously below you, muttering his words of agreement.

"But! Just the tip. I'm not sure how much more of that I could take. It should come with a warning."

George actually blushed, looking away from you for a moment, as though the comment had genuinely embarrassed him. It did seem odd to you in that moment that he wasn't constantly bragging about his prowess in that area. He struck you as exactly the kind of person who would mention the size of his cock at any opportunity. You wondered if had the effect on others that it had on you. It was daunting, a little bit nerve-wracking. How many of the few people who had made it this far had given up at the sight of it, you wondered.

Most, you assumed, as despite how desperate he seemed to fuck you, he agreed enthusiastically, happy to be offered any opportunity to get as close to you as possible. He was already pulling at your underwear, grasping at it, trying to pull it down before deciding to push it to the side as he lined up the head of his cock with your swollen lips.

Looking directly at you he maintained the intense eye contact as he slid himself between your lips, pushing at your tight entrance slowly, carefully, only allowing his head to enter you. It felt amazing. So good, better than you thought. It stretched, filled you up, and that was ten percent of what he had to give. He hissed, gritting his teeth in concentration, trying his hardest not to move his hips, to buck them, to push himself any further inside of you.

As you balanced yourself, trying to contend with the little of him that was inside of you, he brought his thumb to your clit, rubbing it, making you twitch, contracting against him, tightening the grip your cunt had on his head. As he groaned, you couldn't help yourself anymore. You wanted him, all of him. You were willing to risk it.

"God, George... just fuck me."

"Wh-what?"

"Fuck me! Just..."

Realising you might need to take matters into your own hands, you let yourself slide down his cock, each inch stretching you further, a shockwave of pain followed by dull throbs of ache and arousal coarsed through your body, the pit of your stomach feeling pressed, your insides stuffed with him. Llike you were being entirely consumed, enveloped, in George Harkness.

"Christ..."

It was all he could manage with the limited breath he had, his whole body stopping any other function to focus on not letting himself cum inside of you immediatel. The sudden warmth, the tight, wet embrace, the way you leaned back, breasts bouncing as helped yourself to him, riding his cock as he lay back and held your hips. His thumbs, stroking against your skin, where the top of your thighs met your lower stomach, feeling your own desperation as you worked him harder, faster, palms resting on his chest to balance yourself as you took everything he had.

Brows furrowed in concentration, pursuing your orgasm, you wailed as his fingers found their way back to your nipples, teasing them, grabbing at your breasts as you rolled your hips and felt his cock twitching agaisnt your walls. It hurt, but in a way that was delicious, a way that felt like it should be borderline illegal, like most things that provided such a wonderful, addictive experience were. But there you were, enjoying it. Loudly, explicitly. And very publicly. It didn't matter to you, and it really didn't seem to matter to George. You were quite happy to scream it from the rooftops then and there, how much you were enjoying it. Being fucked by Captain Boomerang, as ridiculous as his name always seemed to you. You'd be quite content to tell everyone that he was making you cum, that he was one stroke of his thumb against your erect nipples, one tap of his cock against the exact spot inside of you, from losing all composure.

"George... George..."

"Yeah... yeah, it's good... eh? I'm good."

"Fuck, you are. Yeah. Yes! Yes!"

One final, loud, resounding 'yes' echoed around you, filling the air, bursting through the trees. You imagined that anyone within a five mile radius might have heard Digger coming. His cock, falling from you against his body, still dripping with your slick, still spurting streams of his thick, white cum all over his abdomen, covering his thick pubic hair. His hands, still embedded in your skin, creating deep, red marks where the grip was far too tight, stinging so perfectly pleasantly.

Your own notes of pleasure hadn't exactly been all that much quieter than his own, but still drowned out by the amped up grunting and wailing of George. At least you could hold that saving grace. Allow yourself to cling to that modicum of your dignity.

Because you certainly weren't bothered about any other facets of it, as you slid down beside George on the dingy mattress, curling around his body, hand on his chest, smugly satisfied to know that you had contributed to the stains that would no doubt be a permanent feature.

#captain boomerang #digger harkness #george harkness #captain boomerang x reader #captain boomer x you #captain boomerang fanfic #finnie writes

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cntloup · 11 months ago

Text

After almost four months of working for Simon, you take a maternity leave... and your feelings for him start to bubble up

Simon bumps into you, a troubled woman whose boyfriend kicked her out after he found out she's pregnant

He holds you, gently rubbing your back as your stomach heaves and you throw up your lunch. You're in your third trimester and it’s been hell for you.

You sob onto his chest while clinging to him, from the agonizing pain in your abdomen and the unbearable nausea.

“Shh, it’s ok, luvie. I've got you.” he coos, holding you tighter and cradling your head against his chest as you bawl your eyes out.

Even though your mind is somewhat dazed, your heart still flutters at the nickname.

In almost four months of working as his assistant, you slowly drifted closer and closer to each other.

But you still don't know if you'd call yourselves friends or not, it's something more, yet less than what you wish to be.

After a few minutes spent on the bathroom floor in his office, you finally calm down a bit.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t think I can work like this.” you apologize sheepishly while looking up at him through glossy eyes, still in his arms.

“That’s fine. You'll be on leave until you’re ready.” he says, looking back at you through hooded eyes.

“Really? There's no problem with that?”

“Yeah. It's ok. We'll get a substitute for now. The leave is with pay of course so no worries about money problems.” he responds and you throw your arms around him happily and hug him as well as you can with your swollen tummy, “Oh, Simon! Thank you so much.”

“ ‘s nothin’.” he replies while hugging you back.

“You can come stay with me, you know?” he mentions as he pulls away to look at you, your hair disheveled and your eyes puffy and red while sitting on the bathroom floor after throwing up for nearly half an hour, but oh how he still adores you... in this state... or in any state to be honest.

“Are you sure?” you whisper, throat too hoarse to speak any louder.

“I’m sure.” he replies sternly with a nod and you gaze into his eyes gratefully.

“I’ll help you pack up.” he adds, taking your silence and the look you just gave him as a yes.

“Thank you.” you say and try to get up, but fail miserably with your huge belly and utter exhaustion.

He gets up first and helps you up, “Careful, luv.” he murmurs as you stumble a bit, wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you steady.

He helps you gather your stuff and carefully walks you to his car to drop you off at his place, his hand finding your waist and the other one holding yours.

“Are you sure you’re gonna be fine alone?” he asks with concern as he pulls up into his driveway.

“Yes, I'm gonna be fine for a few hours. In fact, I'm gonna take a nap.” you respond reassuringly with a smile.

“Take care, luv.” he smiles and you wave goodbye.

He leaves as you step inside the house and close the door.

You lean against the door and let out a squeal and giggle like a schoolgirl.

And you don’t even know why. Is it the hormones? Is it him?

It’s been a while since he’s making you feel some type of way.

You settle on the couch to take a nap, not wanting to take up his bed even though you know he wouldn’t mind. But still, it feels like an invasion of his privacy.

You don’t get much sleep as your mind and heart are encompassed by him.

You keep tossing and turning. For hours. Even though you’re utterly exhausted.

Until he returns home and walks over to you, “Hey... why didn't you sleep on the bed?” he asks with furrowed eyebrows.

“Well, I didn’t really sleep at all.” you mumble as you try to get up, looking at him over the back of the couch.

“Why? You ok?” he asks with a concerned look etched on his face as he helps you sit up on the couch and he sits beside you.

“I’m fine, Si. It's just that... the hormones are making me feel weird is all.” you ramble, not really knowing how to answer him, also using the nickname which he insisted on you using. It just makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

“Do you need to go to the doctor?” he questions further, worry creeping up on him.

“No. It's fine. I'll take some pills and try to get some sleep. Don't worry.” you try to play it cool and shrug it off.

He gently carries you to bed and brings your meds, sitting on the edge of the bed and handing them to you with a glass of water.

“Get some rest, luv. I'll make you something to eat.” he mutters while tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear as you lie down, eyes locked onto one another, making your heart skip a beat.

You let out a sigh and shut your eyes after he leaves, in hopes of getting even a little bit of much-needed sleep.

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #cod x reader #ghost x reader #cod fanfic #ghost cod #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod #mw2 #cod modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty x reader

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avatar-anna · 2 years ago

Text

Unknown Number

someone made a request about reader accidentally being given harry's number, but i accidentally deleted it, so if you requested it, here it is!

(the text chain will be from harry's point of view)

italics: y/n (unknown number)

bold: harry

Part Two

Part Three

Unknown Number (UN): heyy. i had a really good time the other night. maybe we could do it again sometime? xx (click to download image)

Harry Styles (HS): How did you get this number?

UN: you gave it to me?

UN: last night at the pub? marcus, right?

HS: No. You have the wrong number.

UN: is this a joke? are you fucking with me right now?

HS: No.

UN: oh my god

UN: i feel like such an idiot

UN: one of the first times a guy gives me his number at a bar and he gives me the wrong number

UN: probably on purpose too

UN: i should've known when he left his OWN APARTMENT the next morning but i was actually hopeful

UN: and now i've made an ass of myself here too. sorry to bother you i'll leave you alone. sorry again

(one hour later)

HS: It's okay. Sorry about that guy. Sounds like a jerk.

(twenty minutes later)

UN: it's fine, i guess

UN: i wasn't in love with him or anything but he could've had the decency of expressing his disinterest himself instead of hiding behind a fake number.

HS: That is quite a dick move.

HS: I'm not gonna lie, I wasn't expecting that text. I didn't open the picture either by the way.

UN: thank you. for a moment i was worried i was messaging a creep, but hopefully you're not a creep

UN: i mean you could be still and i'd have no idea

UN: maybe i should stop texting you

(ten minutes later)

HS: I'm not a creep.

UN: that's exactly what a creep would say

HS: I don't really know how to prove it to you. You're the one who sent me a photo of yourself half naked. You could be the creep.

UN: you said you didn't open it!

HS: I was trying to be polite!

UN: great now some 40 year old living in his parents basement has one of my nudes

HS: I'm not 40! And I don't live in my parents basement

UN: you text like an old man

HS: wuld u rather i txt like ths???

UN: no but i'm just saying i don't know many people my age who use proper punctuation in text messages

HS: Well I might not be your age, but I'm certainly not 40

UN: "certainly not." you're right. you sound like my grandpa

HS: I suddenly regret restarting a conversation with you

UN: you know despite the fact that you might be catfishing me, i've enjoyed this. i feel like i'm doing what all the other teen girls did in high school at sleepovers

HS: So you're out of high school.

UN: creep!

HS: You outed yourself, that's not on me.

UN: you...might be right

UN: can you tell me something about yourself to make it even? there's always a possibility that you could be lying and i have no reason to trust you, but...idk i feel like i can

HS: Well that's stupid.

HS: But I suppose since I've already seen you partially naked...

UN: i'm blocking your number

HS: My first name is H, and I'm 20 years old.

UN: h? just the letter h?

HS: You could be a creep too for all I know

UN: fair enough. i'm june

HS: Full name? Wow, you really are a dummy.

UN: don't get your 60 year old panties in a twist. it's a nickname

HS: June is a nickname?

HS: And I'm not 60.

UN: june. june bug. that's what the folks call me

HS: Folks? Now who sounds old?

UN: whatever

(thirty minutes later)

HS: Well, it was nice talking to you, June. June bug.

UN: you too h

(three days later)

June (J): you're a guy right?

HS: I'm sorry?

J: well when i first texted you i thought you were a guy, but you weren't THAT guy, so i have no idea

J: i just assumed but i thought i would ask

J: plus i need solicited guy advice and if you're not a creep i would really appreciate it

HS: We're back to me being a creep?

J: it's a risk every time i text you

J: so? are you a dude?

HS: Yes.

J: great! can i ask you something?

HS: Um...I guess...

J: ok. would you ever get offended if a woman covered their drink during a conversation with you?

HS: I'm not following...

J: like say we're at a bar and we're talking and i turn my head away for some reason but i put my hand over my drink until i look back at you to prevent it from being spiked. would you be offended by that?

HS: No. Why?

J: see? i don't think that's unreasonable. some loser got mad at me for doing that. well EXCUSE ME for not immediately trusting the guy i matched with on tinder

J: who was not as cute in real life i might add

HS: You don't have the best taste in guys.

J: that is not advice!

HS: Okay, here's my advice: don't swipe right on guys who have mirror selfies in their profile.

J: ...

J: ok fair enough but it's not like prince charmings are falling from the sky. it's hard out here

HS: I'm sure.

J: what you don't have the same problem?

HS: I don't really date.

J: in like a douchey way? are you one of those guys who say they just fuck?

HS: I just don't have time for dating, I guess.

J: so no special someone?

HS: No.

(four hours later)

HS: If you asked for advice, does that mean I can too?

(one hour later)

J: sorry i was at work

J: and i don't see why not

HS: What do you think about guys who wear skinny jeans?

J: hm...i think styled right it could be nice

J: YSL is kind of pushing the whole skinny jeans and chelsea boots thing which might eventually trickle down to the losers i match with on tinder so...why not? i say dress how you want

J: any guy who has a good sense of style is sexy to me

J: sorry if that wasn't the answer you were looking for

HS: Yes and no. I've been experimenting with different styles. Sometimes I get a little in my head about it.

J: doesn't everyone?

HS: I guess you're right.

HS: Do you follow fashion shows and things like that?

HS: That's not too personal, is it?

J: no, but it's kind of embarrassing

HS: Not as embarrassing as sending a complete stranger a picture of yourself in your bra

J: harsh...but fair

J: fashion is kind of my religion

J: i'm trying to become a stylist. keyword trying

HS: That's cool!

J: tell that to my family

HS: they don't support you?

J: nope! but i'm gonna do it anyway!

HS: Do you have a favorite designer?

J: it kinda depends on the year and who was creative director at the time, but the first time i got my hands on vintage vivienne westwood i was hooked

J: you?

HS: I'm just starting to explore the fashion world I guess you could say.

J: well lucky for you i happen to be a bit of an encyclopedia when it comes to house codes

HS: House codes?

J: oh boy. i hope you're comfortable. we might be here a while

(two days later)

HS: Have you ever had rumors spread about you?

J: i don't think so

J: oh wait! in eighth grade this girl in my class told everyone i made out with a boy at the school dance which was NOT true

J: it was just a peck

HS: Naughty.

J: it was harmless. why do you ask?

HS: There's a rumor going around about me. It's just frustrating when people actually believe it. sometimes it gets to the point where i start to believe it myself.

J: i'm sorry. i won't pry or anything, but i know what it feels like to not be understood

HS: I just hate the feeling of being under a microscope. It's exhausting. I feel like my life isn't my own sometimes.

J: that sucks

J: sorry that was in no way helpful, but i don't really know what to say. is there someone you can talk to about this?

HS: ...

J: oh! i actually feel kind of honored

J: well, obviously i don't know the whole situation, but maybe try and surround yourself with people who don't scrutinize you so much?

HS: Easier said than done.

J: true but i think if you have a solid group of people who know you and understand you and like you for who you are, it's easier to deal with things like rumors and being under the proverbial microscope, you know?

J: and don't be afraid to get rid of the toxic people in your life! it's not easy but you'll be better off in the long run

HS: sometimes it's hard to tell who's toxic and who's not

J: start with the people who would never believe a rumor about you, or the ones who would never START one about you

HS: Well said, June Bug.

J: thanks! maybe i should entertain a career in counseling

(one month later)

HS: Why June Bug?

J: i was born in the summer. it was a nickname my grandparents gave me. been called that ever since

HS: That's sweet.

J: there are worse nicknames i suppose. i have a cousin that got stuck with chip because he used to stuff his face like a chipmunk when he was little

HS: Yikes.

J: you're telling me

(three weeks later)

J: have you ever danced alone in your bedroom to stevie nicks?

HS: Have you?

J: i have, and can i just say she does NOT get enough credit as a songwriter?

HS: Edge of Seventeen?

J: edge of seventeen

J: i went on a date last week with a guy who had the AUDACITY to call her music mediocre

HS: You didn't see him again did you?

J: ...

HS: June!

J: just once! and only because he had really nice hands

HS: I don't get how that would make you stay with a stevie hater...

J: REALLY nice hands ;)

HS: You disappoint me sometimes.

J: ;))))

(fifteen minutes later)

J: hey you never answered my question about dancing in your room!

HS: ...No comment...

(one week later)

J: you ever been in love, h?

HS: I can't say that I have. Have you?

J: no ://

J: i think i want it too much. i've always just been in love with the idea of falling in love, you know?

J: but the reality isn't what i thought it would be

HS: I'm sorry.

HS: It probably won't help but I'm sure you'll find someone. You seem like a great person. Anyone would be lucky to be with you.

J: aw h you're making me blush!

HS: But perhaps you should stop looking for love on a hookup app

J: annnd good feeling gone

(two weeks later)

HS: Guess who has two thumbs and got invited to Paris Fashion Week!

J: no fair!

J: and that joke doesn't work if i can't see you point to yourself. it doesn't work period

HS: I will let that slide because I know you're just jealous.

J: are you kidding me? OF COURSE i'm jealous! i can't believe you get to see Alessandro Michele's work up close

HS: Who?

J: don't think because we only communicate through text that i can't strangle you

HS: Relax. I'm only joking.

HS: Alessandro is a friend ;))

(ten minutes later)

J: sorry i just had to scream into my pillow

J: what exactly do you do again?

HS: I told you. I work in the industry.

J: but that could mean anything! the cosmetics industry, the movie industry, the meat packing industry...

HS: Meat packing?

J: you know what i mean!

HS: I do a lot of PR.

J: see. that wasn't so hard now was it?

HS: Can I go back to gloating?

J: only if you promise to give me a full report afterwards you go to all the shows

HS: Deal.

(four days later)

HS: Favorite movie?

J: that's hard...

J: it's probably cliche but the devil wears prada

HS: Good choice.

J: what about you?

HS: The Notebook.

J: really?

HS: Yes. Why?

J: do you say that to impress girls or because it's actually your favorite?

HS: Would you rather I have said a film with lots of car chases?

J: no

J: but i went out with a guy who was a film major once

HS: Is that a bad thing?

J: let's just say it won't be happening again

J: he thought he was superior for disliking popular movies. i hate that

HS: Well, I love The Notebook and I love Ryan Gosling

J: now THAT is something we can agree on!

(six weeks later)

J: BIG NEWS

J: LIKE HUGE

J: GROUNDBREAKING

HS: And here I was thinking you forgot about me.

J: i texted you yesterday

HS: You asked me if my dick could move on its own.

J: a legitimate question! i nearly had a heart attack when i saw it in person

J: but i was also weirdly fascinated. my question was purely scientific!

HS: You said you had news?

J: right!

(twenty minutes later)

HS: Are you making me wait to create anticipation?

J: no sorry i got a phone call.

J: i got my first real gig as a stylist

HS: That's great! Congratulations!

J: thanks

HS: You don't sound excited anymore. What happened to all caps?

J: my mother happened

HS: Still not on board, then?

J: she told me it was a waste of time and that i should get a real job

HS: You're still gonna take it though right?

J: i don't know. maybe she's right. the pay is less than ideal. more like i'm being paid in experience, and it's not the clientele i was imagining...

HS: But it's a foot in the door, right? That's something.

J: i guess

HS: Make connections. Get good references. And who knows, you might actually enjoy yourself.

J: you're right.

J: it's for some up and coming band that's going on tour. pretty sure i was what they could afford

HS: Don't sell yourself short. You're gonna do great.

J: thanks. i hardly even know you and you're currently my biggest supporter

HS: What happened to Bill?

J: ancient history

HS: What was wrong with him? He seemed nice.

J: yeah

J: his girlfriend thought so too.

HS: On behalf of all men: Sorry. We truly are the worst.

J: agreed. what about you? still single?

HS: Yes, though people keep trying to set me up on dates.

J: the horror!

HS: Ha ha

HS: I just want to meet someone on my own terms.

J: i get that

J: i just want to meet someone who's actually a decent human being

HS: I'll be on the lookout.

(three weeks later)

J: i think i've decided that tour life is not for me

HS: oh?

J: yeah. sitting on a bus for hours and hours with only myself to keep me company? no thanks

HS: it can't just be you on the bus can it?

J: no but i have a hard time making friends right away. and a lot of the crew for this tour are older than me

HS: are your clients nice at least?

J: yeah. one of them tried to hit on me, which i guess i should take as a compliment, but i am on the clock. no flirting for me

HS: a professional then. or are you not into the musician type?

J: not sure. i haven't dated one before

J: i told you that the other day

HS: right. must've slipped my mind

HS: but back to taste in men. is it all about looks for you or do you like funny guys?

HS: are you the type to sleep with someone on the first date? because i feel like that's very telling about a girl

J: who is this?

HS: what do you mean? it's me

J: it's not. you're not texting like a middle aged woman and you're acting like a total ass

HS: Sorry. I thought I'd try something new. And I was just curious. Can't blame a guy for asking right? You did send some guy you barely knew a picture of yourself

HS: It was very wholesome by the way. Maybe try a little more skin next time and you'll get the response you want. You can practice here if you'd like.

J: oh my god

HS: What?

J: this was a mistake. i'm such an IDIOT

J: was this some kind of prank?

J: whoever you are, you're sick

J: don't text me again

HS: June, I'm so sorry. That was my friend he was just being stupid.

HS: Last time I leave my phone anywhere.

HS: June?

HS: June please.

HS: That wasn't me I swear!

HS: I'm sorry.

(three weeks later)

HS: Day 21 of trying to get you to respond.

HS You probably blocked me which is fine. I don't blame you.

HS: But if you DO happen to read these and are just ignoring me...

HS: I'm sorry. Again. For like the millionth time.

J is typing...

HS: June?

J: i should've blocked you

HS: Why didn't you?

J: because as insane as it sounds, you've become a close friend

HS: I feel the same. I'm really sorry about before. I swear it was one of my mates. I would never say something like that.

J: that's what makes this whole thing crazy! i don't actually know you, so how do i know if i can trust you?

HS: I mean you even noticed that he wasn't texting like me. I would never ask you questions like that, June. I never have.

HS: And I do NOT text like a middle aged woman by the way

J: i guess that's true

J: i think it just doubled down the fact that we don't actually know each other. this whole thing is ridiculous if you think about it too long. it gives me a headache sometimes.

J: i know we've joked about it but...this could be potentially dangerous

HS is typing...

HS: I could send you a voice note.

J: you would do that?

HS: You're right. This whole thing is ridiculous but...I don't know, I trust you, and I consider you a friend.

J: a friend you say?

HS: That's all I'm willing to admit for one day

J: and what about tomorrow?

HS is typing...

HS (voice recording): Maybe tomorrow I'll admit a little more.

(one day later)

Y/n hated how much her stomach flipped every time her phone pinged with a new message.

It was so reckless and dangerous and utterly ridiculous. She didn't know who H was, she didn't even know what time zone he lived in, and yet she felt like she knew him.

And after hearing his deep voice—deep British voice—on the voice recording, Y/n determined that he wasn't some creep in his forties like she'd originally thought.

Since sending that voice recording, they'd sent each other messages like that all night. And by all night she meant all night. They stayed up late sending voice recordings back and forth. It was the longest conversation they'd held to date, which was surprising considering that they often missed each other during certain hours. Just based on what hours of the day they texted the most, Y/n figured H lived somewhere in Europe, which gave her peace of mind considering he couldn't exactly kidnap her if he was a whole ocean away. But the last couple weeks their schedules seemed to be lining up, though Y/n chalked it up to all the traveling she'd been doing lately.

One thing she was certain of was that she adored H's voice. It was soft and deep, but got raspier the longer they spoke. And at times he would whisper in his messages, like he had to keep his voice down. The hushed tones made her shiver.

Y/n didn't call H, and he never offered. But she wanted to, boy did she want to. No matter how terrifying that thought was. A full-fledged phone call seemed more...real to Y/n. With the messages, she and H were still in their little bubble. It was stupid, but she needed that bit of separation. She was becoming attached to someone she'd never met.

Walking through the halls of a stadium in Canada, Y/n pulled up past conversations with H. It was too embarrassing to admit to anyone out loud, but she felt like she really knew him. He was endearing, had a silly sense of humor, had good taste in music, and was honest. Well, as honest as either of them could be. Outside of the one slip up with H's friend, Y/n believed what he said to her over text. Maybe that made her naive, but their conversations were legit. He felt like a friend, and she knew he felt similarly.

Maybe tomorrow I'll admit a little more.

Y/n had no idea what that could mean. She of course knew what she wanted it to mean, but what she wanted rarely ever lined up with reality.

Y/n looked up from her phone to make sure she didn't pass the right door. The one in front of her read, Harry Styles in big bold lettering. She quickly hurried past and continued down the hall to where the dressing room for Five Seconds of Summer was.

Harry Styles was a bit of an enigma. Even though she was on the same tour as him and One Direction, Y/n hardly ever saw him. And when she did, his nose was always in his phone, completely closed off to the world around him. He just had this vibe that said, "don't talk to me," and Y/n received that message loud and clear. The Five Seconds of Summer boys seemed to get on with all the members of One Direction, but Y/n usually made herself scarce whenever they came by the dressing room, for no other reason than too much testosterone in one room.

"You want to come out after the show, Harry?" Y/n heard one of the boys ask. Michael.

"Um...No. I think I'll have to pass tonight, boys. Sorry."

"What? Big date tonight?"

"Something like that."

Y/n felt frozen to the linoleum floor. She knew that voice. She'd spent all night listening to that voice.

"Holy shit."

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