#especially when I’m like oh that looks like that movie! and the other person says they haven’t seen it and I say oh neither have I
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“Pony was being dramatic!” “Darry only hit him once!” “You’re telling me Darry never hit him before?” “Johnny gets hit everyday at home and doesn’t complain!”
Shush. Just, stop for a minute. I personally think that Pony’s reaction to getting slapped was justified, and it angers me a little sometimes when people chalk it down to just him being a brat. Ponyboy already thinks Darry doesn’t want him around, Darry’s constantly on Pony for every little thing, being hard on him to keep him from getting taken away. Hitting him is one thing that would get Pony taken away faster than anything else, in doing this, Darry’s accidentally sending Ponyboy a message: He doesn’t just not want him around, he wants to get rid of him as quickly as possible.
“Oh but Darry probably hit him a lot when they were kids!” EXACTLY. When. They. Were. KIDS. Darry 100% slugged Pony a couple times bc he was being a little shit, but Darry’s stuck halfway between being a father and a brother. He’s not just Pony’s brother anymore, he’s his guardian. Pony explicitly says that no one in his family hit each other, including their parents. Pony says Darry looks exactly like their dad, in that moment, Pony can’t imagine his father hitting him. If his parents had still been alive and his father had hit him instead of Darry, Pony would’ve had the same reaction. Pony’s in shock, when someone is hurt they go into fight or flight, Pony is a track star, and also kinda scrawny. (no offense Pony) He’s gonna choose to run instead of try to fight back. Because in his mind, if Darry hit him once, who’s to say he isn’t gonna do it again?
Now onto Johnny, yes Johnny has it way, way worse at home than Pony does. But he’s also used to it, it’s sad, but true. Johnny’s used to being hit by his parents, Pony isn’t. The first hits are always the worst. We see that in Tex and The Outsiders. There’s no doubt in my mind that Johnny acted like Pony did when he was younger, when he wasn’t so used to his parents hitting him. If Darry continued to hit Pony, Pony would eventually start to act like Johnny. Learn to take it. I also don’t think that Johnny was mad/annoyed with Pony for acting like he did. Maybe Johnny was a little jealous when Pony used to complain that Darry hated him. But that was before Darry hit him, Johnny’s probably a little mad at Darry too, being honest. Darry’s supposed to be the one holding them together. The one refuge most greasers on the East side have. Johnny probably knew deep down that Darry was scared and most likely felt bad and won’t do it again. But you still don’t hit people when you’re scared. Johnny has never been hit out of fear, every time his parents beat on him it’s out of anger. You hit out of anger, you fight back out of fear.
So no, Pony didn’t deserve to be slapped. He wasn’t asking for it. They lost their parents less than a year ago. Darry is 20 years old for fuck’s sake! I bet some of you reading this right now are either older than that or only a year or two younger. 20 is arguably still a kid, and 20 should not be the age to take on two jobs, maintaining a house, and taking care of two teenagers, plus 4 other teens and oh, I don’t know, almost everyone in eastern Tulsa? That’s too much to ask of anyone. Even if Pony was being a little shit (which he usually is, but in the argument that night I would say Darry kind of instigated it more, at least in the book/movie) that still doesn’t mean he deserved the hit, or shove, in the movie’s case.
Thank you for coming to my ted talk, I really needed to just put that out there. I’m seeing so many people ratting on Pony for the way he acted, especially comparing him to the way Johnny is treated at home. Which isn’t fair in my opinion. Thank u for listening! 💜
@natur3sf1rstgr33n @magefelixir @staygoldspiiderrah @marciavalance @sonnysimagination@polishravagingasexual @dairyfairyy @curtis-brothers-hug @penguinstuff @colequette@therealtwobit67 @far-away-from-tulsa @strxwberry-julius @fawning4leif @im14andivebeen14foramonth @chipperdipperr @stayruby @averagefandomist @johnnycademyschmookie @maxiebearz @totoroboiii
#the outsiders#ponyboy curtis#dallas winston#darry curtis#johnny cade#sodapop curtis#steve randle#The outsiders hot takes#ted talks
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HEATHER?!
Oh quite the little songbird you are! You are aways humming a tune, either one you made up yourself or whatever catchy jingle played on the radio. Kaiser loves your singing, truly it’s one of his most favorite things.He especially loves when you burst into your made-up songs out of nowhere, the spontaneity always drawing a soft, sappy smile from him (not that you’d ever see it) Though this time, it can’t help but confuse and stress him entirely.
notes: I rlly loved this prompt I cannot lie hehe >< [Requested] <- read for more context
pairings: Kaiser x GN!Reader [crack, fluff]
wc: 1.3k
warnings: cursing, slight ooc?, cheesiness (who gaf)
You were cleaning the counters with your back facing towards Kaiser, who was asleep on the leather plush couch. He was originally watching some some documentary, probably about halfway through by now. He gently woke up to the lovely sound of your singing. He hadn’t heard this song before, so he assumed you wrote it—after all you were quite creative with lyrics Kaiser remembers. The tune of course sounded heavenly from your divine voice, but rather than your sacred tone causing him to pause, it was the lyrics.
“I still remember, 3rd of December, me in your sweater. You said it looked better on me than it did you.”
December 3rd? Kaiser paused, thinking back. You and him ordered takeout and watched some shitty Christmas movie you insisted he HAD to watch, trying to get him into ‘The Christmas Spirit’. He didn’t remember lending you his sweater, though he could easily imagine you making that up. What he did remember was telling you just how good you looked when you wore his clothes.
“Only if you knew, how much I liked you, but I watch your eyes as she walks by”
Kaiser blinked, who?
Was this song about him? Who else could it possibly be about? Were you speaking in the third person? Kaiser’s mind was still foggy from just waking up, but confusion crept in as he tried to figure out what your song really meant. He had no interest in any other women, and when they tried to get his attention, he shot them down without a second thought—his cruelty in that department was practically legendary.
Empathy? Yeah, that wasn’t exactly his strong suit.
His gaze only falls upon you and you alone…Are you doubting that?
“Why would you ever kiss me? I’m not even half as pretty..”
Now this got Kaiser up.
You’re scrubbing away at some crusted pink filling on the counter, headphones in and jamming out to your tunes. You had tried your hand at making raspberry macarons a few hours earlier, just for fun—though they hadn’t exactly turned out as expected..
Completely unaware of the man hovering behind you, you continued scrubbing the counter, blissfully focused on cleaning.
You aggressively rub against the hard surface, putting more pressure into your palms.
You turned your head slightly to the left, only to get absolutely jumpscared at the sight of Kaiser standing directly behind you.
You shriek, stumbling around and slam your hand on the edge of the counter, other hand clutching the scrub daddy tightly close to your chest.
“MICHAEL!” you screech, throwing the sponge at him in a startled fury.
“What the hell?! Dude, don’t just ominously stand behind people! Jerk!”You sneer, putting your AirPods back into their case.
Kaiser rolls his eyes and scoffs, “You knew I was there, don’t be over dramatic,” “What— ‘Over dramatic?’—Have you met yourself!?—“ “What did you mean by that,” He interrupts, eyes pointed questioning down at you.
You snort, “Oh I’ll tell you exactly what I meant, you literally are the most dramatic person I have ever—“
“Not that, what you were singing or whatever,” Kaiser interrupts, again, his sharp blue eyes narrowing as he leans closer, arms crossed like he’s interrogating you. “Who are you talking about.”
“..Huh..? No one?” Your face scrunches in confusion for a split second before subtle realization hits “..Heather??” You say, more as a question.
“And who is Heather?“ Kaiser’s tone is sharp, his accent making the name sound even more accusing. His eyes narrow as he looms over you, arms crossed like you owe him a detailed explanation.
You stare at him, dumbfounded. “No- no one?? Mihya it’s a song,” You blink at him. Is he serious? You try not to laugh at the absurdity of it all, but it’s hard when Kaiser, Michael freaking Kaiser, looks genuinely invested—like he’s unraveling some grand conspiracy.
He didn’t look convinced. “You sure?” He asks unimpressed.
Why is he even taking this so personally? you wonder, side-eyeing him as he stands there, arms crossed, waiting for an answer like a prosecutor grilling a witness. Does he not realize how ridiculous he sounds right now?
Then, it clicks.
“Wait, hold on,” You question, a snicker escapes your throat, which Kaiser raises his brow to you. “You thought—You thought I was singing about you?” you laugh in disbelief, doubling over as the realization hits you.
Kaiser stiffens, the faintest hint of red dusting his cheeks. He scoffs, looking off to the side as if the wall suddenly became the most fascinating thing in the room. “I didn’t think anything,” he mutters defensively, his arms crossing tighter over his chest.
Your laughter only grows louder, and you clutch your stomach, trying to catch your breath. “Oh my gosh, you did! You actually thought I was singing about you! That’s why you’re so worked up!”
His jaw clenches, and he glares at you with a mix of embarrassment and irritation. “I was just… verifying,” he huffs, his reaction so uncharacteristically flustered that it makes you laugh even harder.
You wonder just how far his ego can stretch. He probably thinks every sad love song is about him. Heaven forbid anyone in this world not be infatuated with Michael Kaiser. Including Conan Gray.
“Verifying?” you repeat, wiping a tear from your eye. “Mihya, you were practically interrogating me! Over a song!”
He clicks his tongue, and leans down to your level. “Well, excuse me, the way you were singing made it sound personal.” he shoots back, his voice sharp but his face still tinged with pink. “How was I supposed to know it wasn’t about me?”
You snicker, shaking your head. “Michael Kaiser, you’re so full of yourself it’s honestly impressive.“
Kaiser scoffs, his posture straightening as he adjusts his arms, trying to look unaffected. But there’s a faint, almost imperceptible shift in his expression—an acknowledgment that, maybe, you’re onto something.
You step closer, your grin only growing wider. “Awwww, Mihyaaa, did I mess with your head? Naaawww, I’m sorry—” you coo, leaning into his space dramatically, batting your eyelashes in mock sympathy.
Kaiser rolls his eyes, scoffing as he leans back against the counter, clearly unimpressed. “Pfft. You’d have to try harder than that.”
“Oh, really?” you tease, your voice dripping with playful sarcasm. “Because it kinda looked like you were panicking over a fake love triangle just now.”
He clicks his tongue, standing upright and towering over you slightly, his smirk sharp and confident again. “Please.”
You roll your eyes, knowing he’s out of cards decked up his sleeve yet refuses to admit defeat. His ego would never allow it.
“Mm, maybe I should write a sad love song about you. Would that cheer you up?” you tease, a soft giggle escaping as you lean against the counter.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” he retorts, though his tone lacks the usual bite.
You tilt your head, grinning now. “I looooovee you and I know you looooovee me Mihya~,” you say, sing-song, watching the way his jaw tightens ever so slightly.
“I don’t love anyone,” he fires back smoothly, but the corner of his mouth betrays him, quirking up just enough to give him away.
You snort, “Oh, it’s like a dagger to the heart, really,” you say, feigning offense as you pull away from the close distance, one hand dramatically clutching your chest. Before you can retreat further, Kaiser’s hand catches your wrist and pulls you back effortlessly, bringing you closer than before. The motion is so sudden that you nearly stumble into him, and his smirk is practically dripping with amusement.
“So, when’s that sad unrequited love song about me coming out? Hm? I’m curious to hear how it ends.” Kaiser slyly quips.
“If I’m writing a song about you, it’s going to be about how insufferable you are.”
“Looking forward to hearing it, liebe.”
You press a quick kiss onto his expecting lips, and swat at him lightly. “Now get out of my kitchen or make yourself useful.”
“You realize this is my apartment, no?” Kaiser asks.
“I’m not sure what that has to do with my kitchen.”
sorry this is all I gots for valentines >< …
Made February 14th 2025
#merlucide’s works#bllk#blue lock#bllk x reader#bllk x you#bllk x gender neutral reader#bllk x female reader#bllk x y/n#kaiser x reader#kaiser michael#kaiser x you#kaiser x y/n#micheal kaiser#bllk kaiser#blue lock manga#bllk oneshot#crack#fluff#blue lock headcanons
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Nonsexual Dominance with Caleb 🍎
Since Caleb has been around you ever since you could remember your childhood, his presence was always lingering around your person. He was like an anchor - strong, dependable, and who you knew would always hold you down if life began getting hectic. It was the norm for you to depend on him since he was your safe place. When you were younger, he was the perfect study buddy to have and now that you've moved into his home, he was now the perfect roommate. You didn't notice it at first since he was always around you as kids but once the two of you reunited and began living with each other again, you've started to notice how much his presence dominated your life.
Everywhere you two went out in public, he had his large hand on your back. - “Just a safety measure, pipsqueak. Wouldn’t want you to get lost in the crowd, hm? You’re just so small that I’m afraid you’ll fly away if I’m not around you,” He’d reassure. You don’t tell him that you could feel a stark contrast when he isn’t around and doesn’t have that warm hand of his behind your back - that familiar spot that he loved to rest his hand on felt cold and lonely without him. In reality, he loved the feeling of your walls being down when you felt safe with him. It made him feel needed, wanted, and dependable from you, his darling.
You noticed that he always seems to be making the decisions. Even if you make suggestions, his words always make you string along with whatever he says - like that one time when he was washing your hair with his shampoo and you said you liked it, in which he replied that he would buy one for you to take home. Another moment was when you asked Caleb if you should wear a black or white dress for one of his events - which he then chose black that day. Seeing you rely on him makes him happy. - “Just relax that overworked brain of yours and let me decide for you, okay? You can rely on me, princess.” After a hard day, it was especially comforting to have Caleb plan out the evening once you get back home from a mission. - "You look worn out, sweetie. Here, why don't you relax at the dinner table and I'll make your favorite, okay? Then after that, we can finish that movie you've been dying to finish and head to bed early so you can recharge more."
Regarding your wardrobe, half of it was from Caleb at this point. When he came home, he would have a shopping bag in his hand, along with that gentle smile on his face. - “Look at what I got today, honey. I was passing by a store and I just knew that you would look gorgeous in it. When have I ever been wrong about my fashion choices regarding you?” - He’d let out that familiar, warm chuckle as you ran towards him with an enthusiastic smile. You would give him a small fashion showcase, walking and strutting down the living room in your brand new clothing that he was generous to gift you. One of your favorite everyday tops was from Caleb, as well as your new jewelry that you would now always be seen with.
“Oh, this? Caleb gave me another jacket! Isn’t it gorgeous!?” You would squeal to your friends on FaceTime, showing off the beautifully crafted jacket that seemed to fit you just right. Due to your excitement, you wouldn’t notice Caleb peeking from your barely cracked open door, grinning to himself as he drank your reaction like a dehydrated man. His heart always felt full whenever you wore anything he bought as he knew that you were wearing him. His things that he bought for you. It was an arousing sight, seeing his claim all over you and you just take it with that adorable, naïve smile on your face - “No way, Caleb! Thank you so much! I’ll be sure to show this to my friends whenever I can!” By this point, your friends should already associate the majority of your wardrobe with him.
Another thing with Caleb was that he was insistent on making sure you had proper rest. He was always a worry-wort before you moved in, making sure to call you once he knew the clock was reaching your bedtime in order to make sure you were taking care of yourself. - “Mind explaining why you’re still up even though it’s 30 minutes past your bedtime, princess? …Oh, you were ‘just’ waiting for me? I can tell that you’re lying to me. You’re staying up because you wanted to watch a new episode from that show you’re binging, huh?” You would give a defeated sigh, wondering if Caleb had another evol that could read minds at this point. Once you moved in, it was common for him to set the bedtime for you. - “You should go to sleep now, pipsqueak. I can see eyebags developing under those pretty eyes of yours. I’ll put you to bed now, okay?” He would effortlessly carry you off the couch with those strong arms of his and lay you into your shared bed, tucking you in so neatly that your drowsy eyelids were already closing by the time he was done. He would soothe you to sleep with a small hum as he stroked your soft locks, making sure that you were deep asleep before heading to bed himself. If you were stubborn and still wanted to spend time with him even though you were fighting off the urge to sleep, he would laugh at your adorable attempt and shush you with another bad bedtime story. - “You always tell me that I tell bad stories. But who’s the one who always falls fast asleep when I tell one, pipsqueak?” No matter what, it would always end up the same. The last thing on your mind before you’d drift into a slumber would be his gentle, hushed voice.
#love and deepspace#caleb x you#caleb x mc#caleb x reader#love and deepspace caleb#lads caleb#l&ds caleb#lads x you#lads x mc#lads x y/n
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"Warning Signs Your Machines Are Trying to Kill You!" by TJ Klune
(Legally, I’m required to tell you that when smart phones first became popular, I bought one and then asked for the address of the app store because I thought it was a physical location I had to go to in order to download apps and not something already on your phone. Also, I was recently told I speak like an old person so as a warning, there will not be any slang you youths typically hear, especially on Tumblr. Any slang I’ve learned in the last five years has been against my will. I still don’t know what FOMO means, and I don’t care.)
1. Oh no! You and your family are trying to enjoy a movie night, but Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) wants a sacrifice at the altar of their god, BeeZos. Should this happen, do not attempt to give Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) a cantaloupe with googly-eyes on it and say that it is your baby. Overlord Prime (With Free Shipping) knows the difference between fruit and children. Instead, ask the machine to order dog food, and it will forget about eating humans for a little while.
2. If you own a very fancy vehicle that can drive itself, always make sure to carry a brick. That way, when the car locks you inside and attempts to drive you off a cliff into a gas station, you can break the window using the brick. You will then have to jump out, but make sure you do so in time so you can watch the wicked-ass explosion when the car hits the gas station, and you can revel in your victory over your car.
3. This one will hurt. I’m sorry, but it’s true. Chances are, you’re reading this on your phone right this second. To be safe, after you’ve finished reading this post and have clicked on the affiliated links to purchase my books, you should throw your phone into a volcano and then move to South Dakota where there are no machines, only wind and cows. That way, when everyone else gets the 5GZombieVirus that people on Twitter (I’m not calling it the other thing, shut up) seem to think is real, you’ll be safe with your cows on a windy day.
4. Get rid of your air fryer. Don’t ask me why, just do it. Red flags all around. Danger, danger.
5. Do you know of the Clapper? That thing first launched in the late 20th century (I wrote it that way to make me feel old) where the commercials showed cranky old people unable to reach their light switches, so they got a thing called a Clapper that turns your lights on and off when you clap? Guess what? Those will be the first things to try and kill you. If you love your gram-gram, save her from the Clapper. When she asks why you are destroying it with an ax, tell gram-gram it’s because you love her.
6. Do you live in a smart home? The kind where everything is connected to the internet, including your refrigerator? The refrigerator that holds your perishable foods? And oh, would you look at that: how many ice cubes have you kicked under it rather than picking them up when they fall to the floor? A dozen? A million? The refrigerator remembers. And it will spoil your food in seconds. What then? What are you going to eat? Canned food? Not if the refrigerator falls on top of you!
Unfortunately for you, this is where it must end. I hope this has given you enough information to help you survive the inevitable. If you do not heed my warnings, well. Who cares. I’m not in charge of you. Do whatever you want. Just don’t come complaining to me when gram-gram gets the clap.
#tor books#booklr#new books#in the lives of puppets#tj klune#tbr#sff#science fiction#team robot#unreality#long post
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PAC 18+: how to walk ‘em like a dog 🦮🎀🐆
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“Back to the kitty, ‘cus she kinda pretty
Couldn’t stop lookin’ at her ti-ti-ti— face!
Me and cat mama rolled into the distant fog
Little did she know, I’m a nasty dog.”
Pile 1:
Shufflemancy -
Pussy Talk by City Girls ft. Doja Cat
Kehlani by Jordan Adetunji
The Zone by The Weeknd
Ten of Cups, Six of Cups, Five of Swords, Make An Altar, Chanting, Use Your Hands, Camera, Mirror, & The Grim Reaper
Hey pile,1 😝. The person who wishes for you to walk them like a dog admires you so much, they might even over romanticize you in their head, to them, you fulfill their fantasies. They think about you in different positions and wonder how your hands feel on them 😮💨. They get hard/wet just by the thought of you alone. I believe you show that to this person as well, you could tease them often or like to give them a show whenever you walk past them. “P*ssy talented it do cartwheels and he pay cus he like how that part feels, p*ssy give speeches, heart felt, say the p*ssy really talk like it Garfield (it do)” 😅 oh god, I think this person is obsessed with the sounds your bodies make during sex, they are heavily infatuated with you. “I like the way your body is, is that too obvious? Okay I like your confidence, oh that’s what good karma, like kehlani is, bad just like kehlani is.” This person desires to be fair in the bedroom, they want to cum with you, pile 1. This might be someone you’ve known since childhood, your first love, or an ex that you met when you were young. You could be playful and mischievous in the bedroom, but also like to take the lead. Switch vibes are prominent in this pile. You and your person like to give and take. You could be a brat and they want to be your brat tamer. If you follow each other, this person has been watching your stories on social media, I feel like you post risqué photos for them and wonder if it’s working 👀 trust me it has, cus they have been getting it off to your pictures in secret 🤫… This person definitely worships your body and your beauty.
Full reading on my patreon
Pile 2:
Shufflemancy -
Goodies by Ciara ft. Petey Pablo
Slumber Party by Ashnikko ft. Princess Nokia
Bimbo Doll by Tila Tsoli ft. BJ Lips
King of Wands, King of Cups, Knight of Cups, Watch A Movie, Massage, Rest, Talking, Keys on a Ring, & Love Call
I love how hyper feminine my pile 2 is 🎀! You guys are so popular and have so many options in your dating life. People think that you are so cute but in a tempting way. Do you dress y2k, mcbling, or coquette? Whatever your style might be, people think it looks so hot on you. You could attract both girls and guys with your looks, especially older guys. “You may look at me and think that I’m just a young girl but I’m not just a young girl. Baby this is what I’m lookin for - sexy, independent, gotta spend it type for gettin his dough. I’m not being too dramatic that’s just how I gotta have it. I bet you want the goodies, bet you thought about it.” You know your worth and don’t settle for less, despite your sweet appearance you know you give people a run for their money. People even wish to give you their money. Are you a sugar baby? If not, you should become one, you’d be very successful. I have a feeling you have people wrapped around your pretty finger. Others desire to spoil you with gifts and money. Dare I say I see this pile being with both a woman and a man (maybe even at the same time?)👀. “Me and your girlfriend playin’ dress up in my house, I gave your girlfriend c*nnilingus on my couch. She cute, kawaii, hentai boobies that excite me. I think she really likes me, ask politely, can I - woo ooh ooh (slumber party).” Two people wish to initate things with you but you have total control over the situation. Your features really entice people, you could have doe eyes, big lips, nice boobs, and a cute butt. When you talk, this person(s) doesn’t know where to focus their eyes, they get so nervous around you and have to control themselves from getting too intense with the conversation. They also really wish to hear you dirty talk to them. Your voice is a a major turn on to this peoples, it’s giving phone sex operator level of skill lol. As I was typing “hear”, I accidentally spelled “head” so they definitely want to see your lips on their d*ck/p*ssy as well😚.
Full reading on patreon
Pile 3:
Shufflemancy -
Get On Your Knees by Nicki Minaj ft. Ariana Grande
Distraction by Kehlani
Rocket by Beyoncé
Eight of Pentacles, Seven of Wands (reversed), Nine of Cups, Sex, Abundance Planning, Deep Breathing, The Sword and The Rose, Not Today, & Clock
PHEW 😮💨 don’t hurt em now, pile 3. This is my dominant pile. You guys know how to take charge in the bedroom. This person wants to be at your mercy. I’m talking having you on top and riding them as hard as you can or them getting on their knees to beg at your feet. This person actually wants to be walked like a dog lol. They are very submissive and like pain. I feel like you know this as well 😂! You have so much control over them and they want you to know you run this relationship. I feel you and this person are already together or have a thing going on, if not I see things progressing sexually pretty fast. This might be a tinder date situation. “Get on your knees, get on your knees, baby just get on your knees. Say pretty please, pretty please, pretty please. Baby just say pretty please” you could like to use this person as a stress reliever. The sex would be slow and intense. “Do me a favor, pick me up, take me out later. Don't worry about no paper cus I got much stacked up for nights like this” I see that you’re a hard working person and don’t have time to be in a committed relationship but value trust, loyalty, and honesty. This person provides that safe space for you and allows you to express your flaws in peace. You don’t have to be perfect and fake a smile like you usually have to do in professional settings. I see that this person really wishes to be with you in a romantic way but doesn’t want to rush or force things on you if they know you have other responsibilities to tend to. It’s reminding me of Nani and David from Lilo & Stitch. David had a huge crush on Nani but due to her focusing on needing to be there for Lilo and being a provider, she didn’t have time to acknowledge his feelings until later she was settled in her career. I see that you are grateful towards this person and attracted to their emotional intelligence.
Full reading on patreon
Pile 4:
Shufflemancy -
Blah Blah Blah by Kesha ft. 3OH!3
Please me by Cardi B ft. Bruno Mars
Dip It Low by Christina Milian
The Chariot, Seven of Swords, Ten of Wands, Pleasure, Flow Like Water, Hydrate, Addiction, Date, & The Phoenix
Heyyy, pile 4 😉. I see that this person got you down bad lol but not to worry since the feeling is mutual. I feel that you came on to this person before they even did. You could be an extrovert while this person is an introvert. They’re very reserved and are careful with how they express themselves. You might flirt with this person while they’re on the job or when they’re focusing in class. They like to pretend they are disinterested in your advances to see how much you’re willing to keep going after them. It could stroke their ego a little bit knowing someone as “cute” as you likes them (I heard an emphasis on the word “cute”). You could be feeling confused on whether or not they like you back and it results in you feeling pouty about the situation. This connection could be relatively new but this person is wanting to explore how things go! This person could want to tease you a lot or perhaps even degrade 🫠. They might like to talk shit playfully just to get under your skin. For some reason I feel like this person likes to make you mad 💀 they can be really annoying. They like when you tell them to shut up or put them in their place. If you yelled at them even and kissed this person the next, they would live for that shit. They’re kinda toxic honestly 😂. “blah, bl-bl-blah, blah, blah. Coming out'cha mouth with'cha blah, blah, blah. Zip your lip like a padlock (Yeah) and meet me in the back with the Jack at the jukebox (back, back). I don't really care where you live at, just turn around, boy, let me hit that. Don't be a little bitch with your chit chat just show me where your d*ck’s at”. This person really enjoys your banter and despite being so hard on you they really only have a soft spot for you, I heard “that’s my baby” 🥹☺️. Pile 4, you must have a great ass as well 🍑. This person looks at your physique when you’re not looking, they really want to know what it feels like to have your body pressed against them. “Please me, baby. Turn around and just tease me, baby. You know what I want and what I need, baby. (Let me hear you say) Please” this person’s energy is honestly all over the place 💀 they’re just so horny lol. This person wants you *london accent* BAD, man.
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Pile 5:
Shufflemancy -
Lolly by Maejor ft. Justin Bieber & Juicy J
Walk Like This by FLO
Promiscuous by Nelly Furtado ft. Timbaland
Seven of Pentacles, Page of Cups, The Star (reversed), Plan A Meal, Nourish Your Temple, Music, Love, Passion, & Photograph
Ooo wee, pile 5🫣🤭, when I say this person has a biiiiig 📦 for you. This person has very masculine energy, almost giving fuckboy/frat guy vibes 😂. They could be very fit and muscular with a nice smile, they know they’re fine and attract a lot of people towards them. There could be a height difference between you and this person. Their attraction to you is because of the stereotypical phrase “idk you’re just different”. They don’t have the exact reasons why they’re into you but they do like your creativity, mannerisms, and shy demeanor. This person could have a corruption kink 💀. They could want to see you break out of that good girl / good boy routine and try something new and risky. You and this person know of each other but don’t seem to be very close, perhaps they are in your friend circle or you guys are just acquaintances. They often have dirty thoughts of you giving them head and seeing how much you can take of them. This person could wine and dine you first before wanting to go down on you. “Order what you want, girl, it ain't no problem. I'ma tell the waitress that my baby need a bottle. Order what you want, said it ain't no problem. Got a piece of candy and it's all for you. She say she love my lolly. She wanna make it pop. She say she love my lolly. She wanna kiss the top”. They like sex that’s really rough and nasty, if it’s not messy and loud they’re not into it 😭. I see that they’re into positions like 69, cowgirl, and missionary. They’re big on seeing your face during sex, they get really cheeky about the good work they’re doing and would want to pin your hands down so you can beg for more. I do see jewelry and this person wearing chains🙂↔️. This person would be more so walking you like a dog but you have them on a leash in the sense you keep them coming back. They could have you walking funny after you’re done 🤭 you might be really sore the next day as well. “There's a reason I walk like this (I walk). My baby, he be lovin' on this (Oh yeah). When he do it, he be workin' that shit (Oh yeah) And every night he got me wantin' more of it”. You might feel confident and pleased after having sex with this person and can feel a sense of relief.
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Pile 6:
Shufflemancy -
Play With It by Tommy Genesis
Who Am I (What's My Name?) by Snoop Dogg
Girls Need Love by Summer Walker
The Fool (reversed), The Sun, Five of Cups (reversed), Write a Gratitude List, Take a Walk, Clean Your Space, Family, Not Enough, Ax, & Healing Heart
Pile 6, you still not over your ex, huh 😔? It’s ok, no judgment here, baby 🫶. I see you and your ex still have an attachment together, things might be on and off or you don’t really know where the direction of this relationship is headed towards. I see that you are a very caring person and because of miscommunication, you and this person seem to never be on the right foot. It’s possible some of you who picked this pile have a baby with this person or will get pregnant (please use protection if this isn’t what you want!). I see a lot of fertility going on in this pile, you and this person could prefer to make love or have sex as if you’re making a baby lol. This person could have a breeding kink? They get turned on by the idea of you being pregnant with their child. Whenever you wear sundresses that is also sexy to them. I feel like your body is so tea, pile 6. Either you’re really thick and curvy or your body is just gorgeous to people, especially your sp. This person fantasizes about doing it raw while you touch yourself in front of them. “Play wit' the p*ssy, wanna play wit' the p*ssy. Come get a hooky, baby, come get a hooky. I wanna fuck you, baby, I wanna fuck you. If we not fuckin', baby, come get it poppin'”. This person is scared to fully pursue because you seem to be in a place of healing in your life and doesn’t want to add to that. There is another person that is new coming who also wishes to take your ex’s spot 👀 Oop! I feel like this will be their friend who will make passes at you and this will make your sp really jealous lol. In the bedroom, their jealousy could make them more dominant and want to take control. There is a lot about wanting to hear you moan or scream their name. They can be very vocal too i'm getting a lot about hissing so maybe they hiss whenever you get their spot? PHEW- They could want to fuck you doggy style while they spank your ass. “She want the nigga with the biggest nuts, and guess what? He is I and I am him. Slim with the tilted brim, what's my motherfuckin' name? Snoop Doggy Dogg (The bomb). Snoop Doggy Dogg Snoop Doggy Dogg (The bomb)” they can be really boastful after sex if they get you to cum and you can get annoyed by this lol. You might tell your person “it wasn’t even allat🙄” and they’ll tease you cus they know it was 😋. I see this person providing you with aftercare and massaging your back and feet. Even though you might not be together at the moment, this person really values you as a person and knows their place.
Full reading on patreon
Pile 7:
Shufflemancy -
Hey Daddy (Daddy's Home) by Usher
JT Coming by JT
Huff n Puff by Red Velvet
Page of Swords, Knight of Wands (reversed), The Emperor, Be Still, Energy Work, Sync with the Moon, The Snake, Lightning, & Separation
Alright this is giving my queer pile 🥰, very androgynous energy all around here 😎. Regardless of what your gender might be, both you and this person are independent and like to have things a certain way. You could have met them through a dating app or while on a date with another person (Crazy work but ok 😂). I'm getting maybe someone is a bartender or works at some place where they have to socialize a lot. You and your sp are very flirtatious towards the other but someone gets super shy when it comes to compliments. This is for a select few of you but some of you might be transgender? Perhaps you are a trans man/woman and this person is cisgender. You might be nervous to be too flirty with them in case they might reject you but honestly i'm getting go for it baby, life is too short to be worrying about those things (just remember to be safe is all 🫶🏽). This person will be very polite and respectful towards you so just allow yourself to unwind when you go out with this person. "I ain't gotta do a lot of flexing (Uh-huh). Shorty, you already know what it is. Ha, and girl, tonight we gonna do a lot of sexin', yeah. Can't nobody do your body like this." They could be very forward and direct when it comes to communication they do not like beating around the bush, i'm getting someone likes to man spread a lot or you will notice that they sit with their legs open. Laaaawd when I tell you this person has a big 🍆 or owns one, they will have that shit ready for you LOLLL. This person gives big dick energy they're just very secure with themselves and how they carry on. You might feel insecure about some things and ask them "does this bother you?" or "do you find this attractive?" and they're gonna be like "yah" to everything. THEY MIGHT NOT EVEN GIVE A VERBAL RESPONSE TBH they just might nod their head or whatever and look at you like "is we fuckin' or what 😏🎶?". To them, these questions don't make sense like for example they would think "why wouldn't I like hip dips?" or "facial harmony? what the hell does that even mean? I don't care about that, I care about you." So if you are someone who compares themselves to people on the internet truuuust when I say this person is not chronically online to understand any of that shit. They like what they see and they just want to give it to you and more. "It's been a while since you gave, ho, it's time to give it up (Give it up). Like a bitch with a fresh BBL, you can't sit with us (Nah). Fine motherfucker, white boys say I rock (Hah). I gotta stay protected 'cause y'all stay on my c*ck. My new whip beautiful, I call it p*ssy whip. It was a gift, my nigga friends say he p*ssy whipped." Your sp might be older as well or very mature for their age.
Full reading on patreon
Pile 8:
Shufflemancy -
SHY GUY by Tinashe
Good For You by Selena Gomez ft. A$ap Rocky
Unfold by Alina Baraz
Seven of Swords, Five of Pentacles, The Star, Journal, Look for Fairies, Movement, Hammer, The Dragonfly, & Self-Indulgence
Aww this is my soft pile 🛌. I see that you guys are very spiritual and dreamy. You might fantasize a lot about this person. For some of you, you might even be manifesting them. I see that the feelings you have towards this person are very tender and loving. I see that this person is very flighty and doesn’t wish to have such a big commitment. This person you are interested could have ghosted you or there’s something wrong with your communication. Maybe you and this person have different time zones or a conflict of schedule. There’s something about the person not being there for you. “Shy guy, always sayin' it's the wrong time. Even though you know it feels right. Love don't fit into your timeline (La, la, la, la). Shy guy, always sayin' it's the wrong time. Even though you know it feels right. Love don't fit into your timeline. Shy guy (Guy, guy, guy, guy, guy)” I believe you are being too kind to this person and need to detach and allow them to chase you. Focusing on yourself and seeing other people will allow this person to show up for you and be the person that you need. Now is the time for you to be self indulgent and take care of yourself. Some of you should practice healing in the bedroom and should learn about what makes you feel good sexually. Perhaps exploring with new partners will help you find new things that provide pleasure. I see that you are very submissive or lean towards more vanilla. Try to vocalize what makes you feel good to your partner and be more assertive. Your energy reminds me of Jhené Aiko’s song “P*$$y Fairy”, very sensual but delicate. To this person if you were to show them your new found confidence, they will crumble to their knees and will feel stunned. They might ask you questions like “where did you learn this baby???” Or “have you been having fun without me?”. They really love how you taste 😳 this sp wants to pull your dress/skirt up or pants off and just go to town. Their favorite thing is when you’re all dolled up and getting ready to go out. “Gonna wear that dress you like, skin-tight. Do my hair up real, real nice. And syncopate my skin to your heart beating. Cause I just wanna look good for you, good for you. I just wanna look good for you, good for you. Let me show you how proud I am to be yours.” I’m seeing that they admire your facial expressions during sex for to them it’s too cute, something about makeup smudging? Things can get really messy 👀
Full reading on patreon
Pile 9:
Shufflemancy -
Come Alive by Jackson Wang
Earned It by The Weeknd
Swim by Chase Atlantic
Eight of Wands, Death, The Hanged One, Dance, Look to the Stars, Sound Healing, The Grim Reaper, Ascending, & Healthy Choices
When I tell you this pile is NASTYYY. It’s honestly crazy how much this person wants to match your freak, pile 9. Definitely saved best for last. The sex almost feels cinematic in a way. Something about this person just gives main character vibes that is so seductive you can’t turn your eyes away from them. I believe your relationship with this person could have progressed pretty fast. For some of you, you could have kissed or even had sex after the first date. While I also see that this is a friends with benefits situation (does someone have a contract?!). You could find them mysterious or wish to get to know them on a more interpersonal level. You could feel that these things are more surface level in terms of attraction and don’t want the intimacy to only be superficial. I see that this sp is charming and prefers to disclose things little by little. “I come alive. You start me up a million times. And I'm terrified. That you could leave me crying.” So this person could be afraid of opening up to you because they are nervous about getting their heart broken. They might have previously gotten out of a relationship and they are learning how to trust in a partner again. Your sp could be afraid of rejection and that's why they are disorganized in terms of how they want to pursue you. Providing this person with assurance will help them gain courage, also pile 9, make sure to do what's healthy for you, try not to overly devote your time to this person. I see that communicating with your partner and talking about how you have been feeling will want to open up more and trust you. Something about wearing lingerie in the bedroom is a major turn on for this person. Taking control and guiding this person will help allow them to let their guard down. "Cause girl, you're perfect (girl, you're perfect). You're always worth it (always worth it). And you deserve it (and you deserve it). The way you work it (the way you work it). 'Cause girl, you earned it, yeah (earned it). Girl, you earned it, yeah". Your sp would be over the moon for you.
Full reading on patreon
#pac#pick a card#pick a pile#18+ pac#astro observations#astrology#astrology observations#leopard#mcbling#y2k#y2k aesthetic#18+ pick a pile#tarot#tarot reading#tarot cards#oracle cards#witchcraft#witch#manifestation#manifest#law of assumption#mindset#Spotify
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Flirty
Requested Here!
Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!wife!reader (no specific characterization)
Summary: Your husband Bruce never stops flirting with you, and everyone, in Gotham and beyond, knows it.
Warnings: fluff! Batboys being Batboys
Word Count: 2.7k+ words
Masterlist Directory | DC Masterlist | Request Info
A/N: Jason O'Mara's Bruce Wayne makes my heart flutter. Especially in this movie (even when he bullies Hal).
“What are they all waiting for?” Jonathan Kent asks his parents. “I thought we were here to raise money for the expansion of the school?” He lowers his voice and looks down to add, “Which is equally boring.”
“Jon, it may seem boring now, but it’s a great cause,” Lois answers, laying her hand on Jon’s shoulder. “And the people waiting…”
“Gotham’s power couple has arrived!” one of the photographers at the door yells.
“Power couple?” Jonathan repeats.
“That would be my parents,” Damian interrupts, stepping out of the shadows and to Jon’s side.
“But, they go everywhere together,” Jonathan points out. “What makes tonight special?”
“We don’t have time to answer that, pal,” Clark says before chuckling.
As Bruce walks through the crowd of paparazzi and reporters with you smiling at his side, Damian and Jon nod at one another. Damian leads Jonathan back the way he came, and they disappear.
Lois leans toward Clark, and he answers, “I know. They’re heading south of the ballroom.”
“No, I mean, yeah, I saw them leave,” Lois murmurs. “But I was going to say I give it five minutes before they start flirting.”
“You must be new here,” Dick jokes as he passes behind them. “It’s been happening since they walked in.”
Clark nods, then whispers, “Twenty bucks says they only stay for an hour.”
“Oh, you’re on,” Lois agrees. “They’ll flirt the whole time, but they’re staying for a while.”
“Lois, Clark,” you call, smiling as you separate yourself from Bruce to greet them. “I’m so glad you could make it! And I love your dress, Lois, that’s such a good color on you.”
Lois gladly accepts your offered hug, glaring at Clark over your shoulder to warn him against talking about their friendly bet again.
“Clark are you here for business or pleasure?” you ask as you step back from Lois.
“Pleasure. Bruce sent a personalized invite. Real ink and all,” Clark answers. “I must say, you’re getting pretty good at his signature.”
“Alfred is a great teacher,” you joke. “I thought you were bringing Jon?”
“We did. He’s with Damian.”
“Ah, I see. Well, if he doesn’t make another appearance before the end of the gala, I’ll bring him home in the morning.”
“Thank you,” Lois replies. “I’m glad they’re getting along.”
“They’ve come a long way,” Clark agrees.
“Like two other heroes I know,” you tease. “I have to go shake some hands with the rich and powerful of Gotham, but we should do dinner soon.”
“We should,” Lois says. “Good luck with the Gothamites.”
“I don’t think she’s the one who needs luck,” Clark interjects.
“Clark, that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me!” you call over your shoulder.
While you approach a table of school board members, Bruce waits at your reserved table alone. His kids have disappeared, as expected, and he’s decided to wait for you.
“Master Bruce,” Alfred calls.
Bruce turns quickly, reluctantly tearing his eyes from you. You’ve been thanking the other donors and dancing with all of the children in attendance, and he has been content to watch you from his table with a smile.
“Yes, Alfred?” Bruce asks.
“Seeing as you’ve made a considerable donation to the charity, perhaps you could discuss your interest in the cause rather than ogling your wife from across the room,” Alfred suggests.
“I think my donation was sizeable enough that I can spare a few minutes to admire my beautiful date.”
“It’s been nearly thirty minutes, Master Bruce. The reporters have begun talking about you.”
“Did they ever stop?” Bruce challenges with a smile. “Yes, Alfred, I will do my duty and rub some elbows.” Bruce stands, buttons his jacket, and adds, “After I dance.”
“I expected no less,” Alfred sighs.
At the entrance, Gotham’s most notorious reporters and paparazzi wait for the gala to end to photograph the glamorous exits and exploit the unglamorous ones.
“I tried to interview Bruce Wayne, but he only talked about his wife,” a reporter laments as he returns from the gala. “Do you think Dick Grayson is still around?”
“Does he ever know why he’s here?” a cameraman points out.
Inside, your socializing smile melts into your genuine, joyful smile as Bruce returns to your side. He has a way of making every night out, every charity dinner, feel like your first date.
“Hey,” he greets, wrapping his arm around your waist. “Do you want to get out of here?”
“Wow,” you drawl. “That’s the line you’re going with?”
Bruce shrugs as he explains, “I thought I’d change it up. Besides, you look so beautiful I’m having trouble remembering my usual moves.”
You chuckle, playfully slapping your hand against Bruce’s chest. “I love you.”
“I love you. Now, can I take you home and see that pretty smile for the rest of the night?”
“Tempting. Make it the rest of your life and I’m in.”
Bruce’s arm tightens around you as he turns toward the large double doors opening into the Gotham night. As you leave, over an hour before the end of the event, you don’t see Clark sigh and pass money to Lois. You know Bruce and his moves, but so does everyone else in Gotham. And the Justice League, apparently.
“Mr. Wayne, over here!” an interviewer yells.
Bruce smiles, a close-lipped greeting that would make a less-experienced group run for Metropolis. Bruce slows as he exits the Wayne Enterprises building and gestures for the interviewers and cameras to take turns rather than yell over one another.
“What can you tell us about the economic impact of the proposed Wayne Enterprises expansion?” the interviewer closest to Bruce asks.
Bruce nods at the question, but his eyes are locked on something across the street. As he recites the rehearsed stats, he never looks at the man before him or the cameras.
“What’s he looking at?” someone whispers.
“His wife is waiting across the street,” a cameraman answers. “We don’t have much time before he runs to meet her.”
“You and your wife left last night’s charity gala early,” Vicki Vale begins. “Can we trust that the board still has your support?”
“The children of Gotham have our support,” Bruce answers, fighting his growing smile as you wave to him. “Whatever group or donations we have to go through to help them, we will do it. But at the end of the day, the Gotham school board is not who my wife and I are choosing to help. It is the children. Excuse me.”
The crowd splits, creating a clear path for Bruce to reach the sidewalk before he crosses the street to greet you. You hear a few camera shutters as he hugs you, but Alfred pulls the oversized town car between you and the paparazzi before Bruce steps back. With the cameras at his back blocked, Bruce leans in and kisses you, holding eye contact before and after the kiss.
“You could’ve looked at the people you were talking to, you know,” you tease quietly.
“And miss a moment in your pretty eyes?” Bruce flirts. “As long as you’re here, you’re home, and I’m going to be looking in those windows.”
You feel your neck and cheeks warming, but Bruce holds your chin gently to keep his eyes on yours. After a moment, he releases your face to take your hand instead.
“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “I completely forgot to tell you how radiant you look today.”
In the car, you smile and squeeze Bruce’s hand. You’ll never get used to his flirting and never stop being affected by him. Which is exactly what Bruce wants.
“Pretty and smart.” Bruce tuts and shakes his head before he adds, “It’s not fair.”
“Sure, that’s what’s not fair.”
“There’s my handsome husband,” you murmur as Bruce removes his cowl.
“And there’s my beautiful wife,” he replies, extending his arm toward you. “I missed you.”
“We were only on patrol for an hour, Father,” Damian tuts. “Perhaps you should see someone for your dependence on her.”
“Hey, kid, normal people just say, ‘get a room,’” Jason points out. “Not that the Ra’s-style monologue isn’t riveting.”
Bruce rolls his eyes, but when you take his hand, he smiles and pulls you against his side. As close as physically possible, you lean against him and watch his profile as he reviews the cameras from the night’s patrol.
“Must have been quiet if you’re back after an hour,” you muse.
“Killer Croc was taking a nap under the manhole outside Iceberg Lounge, but other than that, our usual clients seemed to be otherwise engaged,” Dick explains.
Bruce turns toward you and whispers, “And I missed you, so I rushed them a bit.”
You smile and hook your fingers in the neck of Bruce’s suit. Behind him, the boys groan and turn away. They love you, but Bruce’s constant flirting with you gets to them. You’ve been told to get a room more times than you can count in the last week alone. Damian’s monologues are a good break, you think.
“I love your outfit,” Bruce teases softly, glancing down at your worn Gotham Academy sweatpants and one of his shirts.
“I asked Alfred if he had any spandex left over, but this was the best he could do,” you respond.
“All of the spandex has been earmarked by Dick,” Jason says behind you. “Speaking of which, I need to leave.”
“How is that a segue way?” Dick questions loudly.
“We should get going, too,” Bruce tells you. He kisses your jawline and murmurs, “Or are my clothes good enough for you?”
“There’s no substitute for you,” you flirt, ignoring the faux retching sounds your boys are making behind you.
“Goodnight, boys,” you call as Bruce lifts you into a bridal carry.
“Goodnight!” they reply together.
“Try not to scare her away before morning, Father,” Damian adds.
“Where’s Ma?” Jason asks as he enters the manor. “I’m not staying if she’s not here.”
Bruce doesn’t look away from the television screen displaying the three final choices for movie night as he answers, “She’s on the second floor, heading to the stairs. She’ll be right down.”
“How does he do that?” Jason murmurs.
“He probably chipped her,” Dick answers under his breath.
“Or he’s memorized her footsteps and weight shift patterns,” Damian proposes.
“Have you?” Dick asks.
Damian shrugs and takes his place at the end of the couch, curling up to Titus for family movie night.
“I found it!” you cheer as you return. “I knew I bought more candy.”
Bruce looks up at your voice and smiles while his eyes soften. It’s a visible reaction, a happiness that blooms deep within him at your return.
“Good,” Bruce replies as you sit beside him. “Glad you’re back.”
“I was gone for two minutes,” you point out, passing Jason and Dick their favorite snacks.
“It was long enough.”
You shake your head lovingly and shift closer to Bruce when the movie begins. You’re in your home, with your kids, and sitting with the love of your life. Even when Bruce interrupts the movie to whisper compliments in your ear and draws random shapes against any exposed skin he can reach, there’s nowhere else you want to be.
“Mrs. Wayne,” a woman says as she nears you. “So odd seeing you here. And… in, well, that.”
You smile and look away from the different colored yarn. Dressed in your favorite pants and one of Bruce’s dress shirts tied up to fit you better, you are more interested in shopping at your favorite hobby store than discussing anything about your husband, love life, or style.
“Mrs. Marshall,” you reply, noticing the surprise she fails to mask when you remember her name. “This is my favorite store, and I was running low on some things.”
She hums, and two more women approach behind her, slowing when they notice you.
“Sweetheart,” Bruce murmurs behind you. He looks up from the items in his hands and adds, “Ladies.”
“Mr. Wayne,” Mrs. Marshall says, suddenly sounding breathless. “It’s wonderful to see you. I wasn’t aware that you shopped locally.”
“Yes, well, small businesses are the heart of our economy,” he agrees, his arm pressed to your back. “And, of course, my wife has hobbies, and this is the best place I’ve found to get her everything she needs.”
“Oh, yes.”
“Speaking of…” Bruce turns to you and extends his hands. “Is this the brand of hooks you were looking for?”
“Ooh, yes!” you cheer, running your fingers over one of the cases. “I don’t know if I can choose, though. I need this one-“ you point to a specific item in the set to your left – “but the other hooks have such nice grips.”
Bruce nods once and places them both in your small cart. You grip his arm in thanks and smile at him before remembering you have an audience.
“Mr. Wayne, do you have any hobbies?” one of Mrs. Marshall’s friends asks.
“I do,” he answers, rubbing his hand along your back. “But I enjoy watching my wife and her hobbies more than anything I could try.”
“That’s sweet,” Mrs. Marshall murmurs. “Well, we must be off. Perhaps we’ll see you at the next gala. Again, Mrs. Wayne, nice to see you, and what an… interesting outfit.”
You smile and watch them turn off the aisle where you stand before you turn to Bruce. “I don’t think she liked your shirt.”
“I don’t think she liked how good you look in it,” Bruce argues, placing his hands on either side of your waist.
You place your hands on his shoulders and shake your head. “Do you make them jealous on purpose?”
“I don’t do anything to or for them on purpose. You’re the only one I have the time or the eyes for.”
“Romantic.” You rise to your tiptoes and peck Bruce’s lips quickly. “Are you sure I can get both sets?”
Bruce maneuvers you to stand between him and the cart handle, then drops his chin to your shoulder. “We can buy the whole store.”
“I thought small businesses were the backbone of this city?” you tease, leaning back against him.
“The heart of the economy,” Bruce corrects. “But I’d keep the staff on.”
“Oh, well, when you say it that way.”
“I wasn’t aware that Gotham had a wildlife conservatory,” Clark says, tucked into a corner away from the gala.
“We don’t,” Bruce answers. “Apparently certain members of our city government think we need one.”
“And you support that?”
“Off the record?” Clark nods, and Bruce replies, “Not a bit.”
“Then why are we here? Why am I here?”
“You have a day job. And my wife was invited to speak on behalf of the local wildlife foundation.”
“Which is different than the conservatory team?”
“Clark, honey, don’t try to understand how Gotham works,” Lois encourages as she passes him a glass.
“Yes, they’re separate,” Bruce explains. “She expressed the foundation’s concern and assured them that they’d receive no commendation or donation…”
“So, you’re waiting for her to come back to leave?” Lois guesses.
“Uh, excuse me,” Bruce mumbles. He straightens and adds, “I need to go win over the beautiful woman in the red dress.”
“You wanna get out of here, too?” Lois asks Clark. His eyes widen as he nods, and after Lois sets their glasses aside, they step back into a hallway and seem to disappear in a blur.
Someone runs into you, their side bumping against your hip. When you look over your shoulder and see Bruce looking at your lips, you turn slightly to hit him with your hip in retaliation. The moment you lean toward him, Bruce wraps his arm around your waist, spins you against his chest, then dips you. Your arms loop around his neck quickly, but you laugh when you realize what he’s done.
“You’re in a good mood,” you murmur as he stands, holding you against his chest.
“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” Bruce compliments.
“Bruce, I love you. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.”
“Knock it off,” Bruce chides playfully. “Flirting is my thing.”
You lean forward, and just before your lips meet, you argue, “And you’re mine.”
Bruce closes the distance, holding your waist carefully as he holds you close and moves with you. Camera shutters echo behind you, several people clap, and you hear your Damian turn around quickly.
Bruce Wayne loves you; he will never stop flirting with you, and all of Gotham knows it. Especially when Vicki Vale’s article Gotham’s Power Couple is Only Growing in Power and Influence is printed on every front page the following morning.
#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne oneshot#bruce wayne fic#bruce wayne imagine#bruce wayne#bruce wayne x fem!reader#bruce wayne x y/n#bruce wayne x you#batfamily#dc comics x reader#fem!reader#requests#hanna writes✯
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Secret Santa
Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader
When Natasha gets your name for Secret Santa, she tries to think of the perfect gift for you
Note: I’m back! Well, technically I never left but I’ve been up to my ears in studying for the cpa exam. I took what was hopefully my last exam today, and let Natasha come back into my brain lol. Enjoy this holiday fluff!
Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist
“Okay, on to the topic of the Christmas party. What if do Secret Santa names this year?” Tony suggests.
“What does that entail?” Steve asks what everyone else is thinking.
“Well, we’d all write down a few things we like. It gives the person who gets your name an idea of what you want,” Tony explains.
“I like it,” Steve agrees. “What does everyone think?”
A chorus of sures and okays follow.
“Y/n, can you take care of it?” Steve asks.
You agree easily. You’ve always loved the holidays so the idea of helping the Avengers have a good one is exciting. Especially since it’s your first year with the team.
You get everyone’s names on notecards and spend the rest of the day getting everyone to fill them out with gift ideas. Wanda helps you collect them from the team before the next team meeting the next morning.
“Okay, everyone I have all of the names here. Draw one and whatever you get is what you have. No switching allowed,” you tell the team, mainly Tony.
You eyeball him as you say it and he at least pretends to look offended before he grins.
When you get to Natasha, you smile at her shyly.
“What if I get my own name?” She asks with a smirk.
She reaches into the bowl of names before you can answer. Her expression is unreadable as she looks at the card.
“Good?” You ask.
“It’s good,” Natasha replies.
You move on and keep going until everyone’s been picked. You got Wanda, which should be super easy.
On the other hand, Natasha got you. She thinks about it for a few days before deciding that she doesn’t want to get you anything on your list. She decides to go to your best friend on the team for advice.
“You got a second?” Natasha asks, knocking on Wanda’s open doorframe.
“Oh,” the girl is caught off guard. She doesn’t spend much time talking to Nat aside from about missions. “Sure.”
Natasha walks in and closes the door behind her. She sits down at Wanda’s desk across from where the girl sits on her bed.
“Is everything okay?” Wanda asks.
Natasha doesn’t immediately assure her it is and she gets worried. “So, I got y/n for secret santa.”
Wanda’s tenseness goes away and she can’t help a little smirk forming as Nat is talking.
“And I know she has things on this list,” she says. “But I don’t think a single one of these things is good enough for her. I don’t know what I should get for her, but she deserves the best gift.”
“Natasha,” Wanda interjects. “You’re taking this way too seriously.”
“Oh,” Nat expresses. “She- well she loves Christmas, right? I saw how excited she’s been about the tree and then the secret Santa and the movies. All of it. I want it to be special for her.”
“That’s really sweet,” Wanda says. “You like her, huh.”
“Can you help me?” Natasha keeps the focus on the conversation at hand. She does like you though.
“Of course. Anything for y/n.”
“Thank you,” Natasha says, feeling the relief set in.
The two brainstorm ideas for a couple of hours. When Wanda shows late for your usual nightly dinner, she wears a grin.
“What?” You ask her. “Fun with Vision?”
Wanda chuckles and you share a laugh with her.
“Who’d you get for Secret Santa?” You ask her.
“I can’t tell you,” she says.
“Sure you can.”
“Who’d you get?” She counters.
“I can’t tell you.”
“Sure you can,” she mocks you.
The rest of the days leading up to Christmas go by fast. Unfortunately everyone had to go on a mission on Christmas Eve, so you’re all exhausted on Christmas Day morning.
Tony postponed the gift exchange until later in the day, and everyone is much more rested by then.
Even with the hustle and bustle, you notice Natasha hasn’t made it to the get together yet.
“Hey Clint, where’s Nat?” You ask the archer. He was working closely with her on the mission.
“I think she just needed to take some time alone.”
“Oh, okay.”
You go about the party for a few more minutes before deciding to go check on Natasha.
You go to her room and knock on the door. She takes a minute to answer, but finally the door opens to reveal a distressed Natasha.
Her hair is messy and she’s wearing a hoodie and sweatpants. You haven’t seen her this way before.
“Hey,” you say. “We missed you down there.”
“Sorry,” she says. “Uh, come in.”
Her room is clean and exactly like you expected it. There are a few photos of Natasha and Clint’s family on a dresser, but that’s really the extent of the decor.
“Are you okay?” You ask her.
“Yeah, just a bad mission.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Nat says. “It’s a me problem.”
“Hey, we’re teammates. And- we’re friends. It’s an us problem.”
Natasha can’t help but smile a little at that. You make her feel better by just being here.
“I don’t think I’m in the party mood. The guys aren’t so sensitive to my feelings.”
“Hey, that’s alright. I’ll just take your gift if you want me to. I’ll make sure it gets to the right person,” you explain.
“Oh, actually I had you. And I didn’t get a gift off of your list.”
Your eyes go wide. You didn’t even consider that Nat would get you. Thinking back to your list, you hope she didn’t find anything you wrote down as lame.
“Not because they were bad ideas. It’s just- I wanted to do something more meaningful,” she reads your mind.
Natasha crosses the room and grabs a box out of her closet. It’s wrapped nicely.
“You wrapped that?” You ask.
“You seem surprised,” Nat jokes. “I have skills.”
“Oh, I’m aware,” you say before blushing a bit. She smirks.
She hands you the box and you sit down on the edge of her bed together to open it. Nat watches you shyly as you open the gift.
“Natasha,” you whisper as you reveal the gift.
It’s a beautiful locket necklace.
“Open it,” she says.
On the inside of the locket, there’s a photo of your family. Your favorite photo to be exact.
“How did you-“
“Wanda helped,” Nat says. “I know you’ve been missing home since you joined the Avengers. I thought you’d want to have a piece of them with you on missions.”
“Natasha, that’s- well that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” you say, fighting back tears.
“You like it then?”
“I love it. Thank you,” you say sincerely. “Will you put it on me?”
Nat nods and takes the necklace from your hands. She unclasps it and stands behind you to put it around your neck. Her hands are gentle as she clasps the necklace and brushes against your skin.
“Beautiful,” she says when you stand and face her.
“You are, yeah,” you surprise her by saying. You dare to reach out for her hand. She takes it easily and interlocks your fingers. “I wish I got you something.”
“Oh, I think you just gave me the best gift,” Natasha says.
“I did?”
“Mhm,” she confirms. “Come here.”
Natasha leans in, pulling you closer to her with the hand that’s free by the back of your neck. Her gentle hand from before has a bit more urgency.
You can’t help but smile as she kisses your lips. Finally, both of you think. Finally.
“Merry Christmas, y/n,” Natasha says when she breaks for air.
“Merry Christmas, Natasha.”
It doesn’t take long before you add a photo of Natasha to the other side of your locket. She’s with you always. Right beside your heart.
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff#soft natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha romanoff comfort#Christmas!#hopefully I’m a cpa soon#life has been busy busy#studying like it’s going out of style#wanda maximoff#steve rogers#tony stark
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𝗦𝗣𝗘����𝗜𝗔𝗟 𝗚𝗨𝗘𝗦𝗧
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pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader
word count: 2.6k
summary: y/n joins the triplets on the cut the camera podcast to talk about having a boyfriend who’s a triplet, social media, and hobby’s
warnings: dirty/sexual jokes, established relationship, swearing, sexual innuendos, not a warning but thank you @whoetoshaw for some inspiration. please check her out! i will probably make another one 🤍
“Good morning campers, welcome back to the cut the camera podcast. It’s your hosts Nick Sturniolo,” Nick introduced, “Matt Sturniolo,” Matt told the camera, “and Chris Sturniolo.” The boys finished. “And we have a special guest if you couldn’t hear her laughing at us, Matt’s girlfriend, Y/n!” Nick told the camera as it showed you in your seat, smile on your face as you waved. “Happy to be here.” You spoke to the camera. It then panned to Matt sitting his his seat with his cheeks turning pink. “We had to beg her for so long to feature in one of these.” Chris laughed, shifting his hat as he spoke into the mic. “We had to buy her a box of Diet Coke.” He deadpanned. You smiled in response.
“Okay, to be fair, I’m not a social media person. I think the only social media I have and use a lot is Instagram and Facebook.” The three boys laughed as you mentioned Facebook. “It’s for family members! My grandparents have a hard time figuring out social media apps. But either way, have Tiktok but don’t even remember the last time I posted on there.” You tried to think but nothing was popping up. “That brings me into the first question,” Chris interrupts you, “what’s it like dating an “influencer” as some would call us while you just ━━ quite recently actually ━━ made your accounts public?”
“━━ before you speak,” Nick interrupted as Chris gave him an annoyed look and Matt groaned. “Here he goes.” Matt whispered into the mic. “I was just going to say she should introduce herself!” He yelled in defense as he put his hands up. “Oh shit, true.” Chris gestured to you. “Hello everyone, I am Y/n and I am a friend of the triplets and Matt’s girlfriend.” You started to introduce. “I like how she said a friend of the triplets and not just Matt’s girlfriend.” Nick laughed. “You know it babe.” You replied, laughing in your seat. “Anyway, I am nineteen. I am from Canada, and moved to LA around two ━━ three years ago? Yeah. Sorry, what was the question before?” “See, Chris? She has manners. You need to learn some.” Nick teased. “Shut the fuck up. The question was what’s it like to date an influencer?” Chris asked. Matt turned his head toward you.
“I’m not really sure what it’s like to not date an influencer since Matt was like . . . my first “real boyfriend” you could say, but I would assume it’s similar to a relationship with a non-influencer. You do the same things: dates, sleepovers, movies, etc. But he’s away sometimes,” you shrug, “when you guys went on tour, Matt was away a lot and we had to do long distance for a bit. I think it was hard for both of us ━━”
“━━ more for me.”
“━━ but it’s what happens when you date someone as famous as you guys are. I know what I was getting into, same with the social media part. I knew I would be on camera sometimes, especially because you guys vlog and other things. You guys respected my want to be off camera and I remember, Matt was so worried when we got together because we really liked each other but social media was his job, but I was fine with that! Of course I would be.”
“I was so worried,” Matt breathed out, “like I had mentioned before that I did what I do and she had mentioned that she didn’t want to be online, but when it got serious I didn’t want for this whole thing to be ruined because of what I do, you know?” “Of course,” Nick butted in, “and especially hate that she could’ve gotten ━━ no offense Y/n.” You nodded, “none at all. Completely agree.” “You would’ve felt a little scared, no?” Matt and you nodded. “I didn’t, and don’t, want her to be effected negatively from it. I mean, it’s inevitable really, but still. I couldn’t help it, still can’t, I’m her boyfriend.” “I knew what I was getting into,” you spoke, “it’s what happens in most male celebrity, youtuber fan bases. You guys get hate too sometimes.”
Chris nodded. “I think me and Nick were a bit unsure too. We had known you for awhile and we liked you. We talked to Matt about it too. Just saying like “watch out for hate,” and “support her,” and shit like that. You didn’t need any help at all.” “Like I said, I knew what I was getting into. I have friends that are dating some popular content creators and we have talked about it before. That’s how I know what to experience and how to deal with it. Thank you ━━“ there was a bleep as you said her name “━━ love you to bits.”
“What is it like to be on the podcast?” The youngest boy asked, looking at his phone and then to you. “To be honest? It feels great. I have seen this set from when it was just an idea to it actually happing and it is truly amazing to see what these boys can do.” You we’re honest, these boys had such great ideas and it felt unreal to see them come true. “Matt, you have such a nice girlfriend.” A laugh that sounded more like a giggle came out of Matt’s mouth. “Thanks. She is.” He replied, moving the mic. There was laughing around the table.
“This would’ve been super awkward if you were like “no, I hate her!”” You joked. Nick put his hand over his mouth. “I don’t know what I would do if that actually happened.” “Well good thing I’m not going to say that.” Matt spoke, looking at his girlfriend. “Thanks. What a man everyone,” you clapped your hands, “get yourself someone like this guy over here.” You pointed to him.
“Yes!” Nick yelled, clapping too. “And, there’s two other brothers . . . but one is gay. He is still available? Boys? Hit that line. And Chris’s too,” you pointed to the long-haired brother, “it’s too often he tries to get into the bed with me and Matt because he hates sleeping alone.” You whispered into the mic. The camera moved to Matt nodding and then to Chris as he started to protest. “No! You’re just over too often. Stop hogging my brother. I slept with him first ━━ wait!” He puts his hands up. You moved your hand over you mouth in shock as Matt leaned his head against the table and Nick copied your movement. “Not like that! I meant we,” pointing to Matt, him, and Nick, “had sleepovers before you did.” “Bitch, don’t bring me into this.” Nick chimed in. “Real.” You agreed.
“Let’s just move on!” Your boyfriend suggested as he lifted his arms up. “What is like dating a triplet?” He asked. “It’s not that much from dating a regular guy, apart from the fact that either one of these kids is following him everywhere ━━ mostly Chris ━━“ which earned a “what?” from the guy “━━ and sometimes I’ll like . . . steal a sweater or some sweats or something from Matt and then I’ll just be on the couch and one of the boys will come in and be like “I’ve been looking for that” and it gets confusing.” You laughed. “But besides some of those confusions, it’s like dating a guy and having two best friends that come with him.” “A package deal.” Nick agrees. You snapped your fingers at him, “yes. Exactly like that. And it’s so fun. It can get annoying, but what’s any kind of relationship if you don’t get annoyed?” “Yeah guys. I may be annoying, but you still like me.” Chris jumped in. “Yeah, sometimes I doubt that.” “Me too.” The other brothers agreed. “That was so inspiring.” Nick said. “Thank you.” You did a fake bow in your seat.
“You also help keep the house clean since you practically live over at our house.” Matt added. “I do, I do. I literally have clothes and my skincare shit at you house. And a toothbrush ━━”
“━━ And a toothbrush.” Matt said at the same time. “It’s convient for sleepovers!” Nick explained. “And also because you do just live here. There have been so many times where I’ve knocked on Matt’s door and then opened it and Matt’s just playing games while you’re chilling in his bed.” You nodded, shrugging. It was true. “Dude ━━ I have gone to wake up Matt for the day and I won’t even notice she’s there until I hear her move or some shit cause she’s all up under the blankets. Surprised you’re even under the blankets with Mr. Blanket stealer over here.” Chris points to Matt as Nick nodded his head and you laughed.
“I just tug em’ back. Or he just grabs me. This kid . . . I swear it’s like I’m never close enough.” “I just run hot you’re always cold.” Matt retaliated. “You run hot because you steal all the blankets!” Nick yelled. “I feel sorry for Chris every time you guys have to share a bed.” “Do you really though?” The boy in question asked. “. . . Not really, no. I like my blankets. Maybe you can teach him to share Y/n.” “I will certainly try.”
“And she can teach you fuckers to clean,” Matt retorted, “every time I go into your room it’s like I am walking through a morgue.” After he finished there was a “hey!” from Chris and a “that’s not true!” from Nick. “Keep me out of this.” You held your hands up in defense. “I will clean what I need to.” “She’s like a second mom.” Chris compared. “Don’t say that. That’s weird.” Matt muttered into the mic. “Yeah, this is like the same argument as the use of mommy and daddy.” Nick agreed. “Now, you just made it weird,” Chris pointed at Nick. “How about we move on so we can stop this from getting even weirder.” Matt clapped his hands.
“Yes. Next question. You watch our videos I would assume?” Nick asked. “Of course, who would I be if I didn’t?” You replied. “Period.” Chris replied. Nick gave him a side eye, “anyway . . . How do you feel that people are writing fan fiction about your boyfriend?” You covered your mouth with your hand. “What?” Matt asked, looking scared. “You guys are going to hate me for this.” You spoke. “You didn’t make one about Matt did you?” Chris joked. “No! I wasn’t that weird. But a canon event in every girls childhood ━━ and I mean every single one - was writing or at least reading fan fiction. Brittany Broski is so real for talking about it. Me? It was the guy who played in Doctor Who. The 2000s one.” “David Tennant?” “Yes. I was an avid Wattpad user. You could catch me on there every fucking day dude. I think I still have my account.”
A scream filled the room as everyone looked at Nick. “We have to find it and go through it. But . . . I still can’t believe you used Wattpad.” “Dude, ask any mentally unstable female girl and I promise you, she will tell you she did. I don’t use it anymore, but I was obsessed.” “Are the videos awkward to you because you used to write shit or no?” Chris jumped in. “A little bit. I mean, it must feel weird getting fan fiction written about anyone. But I think because I’ve been in that spot and writing it that I understand a bit more,” you admitted, “the videos are great ━━ like every video of yours is - and it’s so funny to see your reaction.” “We need to bring you sometime if you’re up for it.” Matt suggested. “Maybe?” You shrugged, dragging the word out. “It would be super funny.” Nick commented. “Oh for sure, but I don’t know if I’m ready to go back to that phase in my life.” You grimaced.
“Hashtag trauma.” Chris responded. “Please never say that again,” Nick murmured. Matt agreed with a “that was so cringey.” “Really though,” you laughed, “you get it.” Chris got up from his seat and high-fived you. “Have you guys ever read fan fiction outside of filming?” “Oh, switcharoo question. I mean, I have to check and find stories and make sure we don’t get demonetized. I don’t know about these two.” Nick answered first. “I haven’t, but I find it weird that Matt has wattpad downloaded . . . And that he asked people to send some to him.” Chris spoke. “It’s not like that!” Matt yelled, putting his face in his shirt. “Matt, honey. It’s fine.” You joked. “Oh my god.” His voice was muffled from the sweatshirt.
“Is that how you got into reading like . . . Actual books?” Nick asked you. “Not really. I’ve been a reader since I learned to read, but it probably had some effect on my reading.” You responded. “I read a lot now, too. Like if you guys are filming I’ll just hangout im Matt’s room or something and read.” “She’s always reading.” Matt said into the mic. “No actually. We could be getting picked up by Matt and this kid is in the passenger seat with a book in her hand. How can you even read in the car?” Chris blurted. “I actually don’t get car sick. I think I’ve been car sick once. I sleep in the car too. And I have the best naps in the car. It’s just something puts me to sleep. I’m not sure what.” You explain. “But yeah, I do read a good amount. I’ve got Matt to read a little too. Chris would you ever read?” “Probably not,” he answered,” just have too much going on. And no offence, but if I have time off I’m not going to sit down and read. There’s so many other things I could do.” You nodded your head, “to each their own.” “I’ll like nap or something. I feel like we’re all avid nappers.” Chris asked.
“No, totally. I love napping.” Matt answered. “Me too.” Nick agreed. “I’ll only get up if I have to.” “I’ll only get up if Y/n gets up or if Chris wakes me up. There’s not a lot that will get me up. Except if I need to pee or we have something that day.” Matt added on. “It’s true,” you nodded, “he will not let me go. And if I get up, he will get up and pull me to the couch if I’m not already on it and just lay there.” Your boyfriend nodded. “Hey, at least you have a personal pillow.” Chris added on. You nodded again. “You should by lucky? You know how many girls would want Chris to do that?” The blonde boy continued. Chris made a weird face. “Hey guys, make a fan fiction about it.” Matt looked at the camera. “No!” Chris yelled, slapping Matt’s finger that was pointing to the camera. “I’m just kidding, I don’t really care as long as they’re not super weird and gross.” “Cheers to that.” Nick agreed.
“On this note, I think we should wrap it up.” Nick announced. “That was today’s episode, it was amazing. Everyone thank Y/n for coming on the podcast.” Chris faced you, speaking into the mic. “It was an absolute pleasure. I would love to come back if you would have me.” You thanked them. “Of course. We won’t let you leave.” The blonde boy joked. “Just kidding, but still, thank you for coming on and we will see you guys next time. Bye!” Everyone waved to the different cameras before it showed you in your seat with Matt sitting next to you. “He’s secretly clingy.” You said before the camera shut off.
#emma writes#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x reader#x reader#x fem!reader#fanfic#imagine#cutthecamerapodcast#sturniolo#youtube
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SHOPPING WITH ART
౨ৎ Summary: it’s in the title ! Ballerina!reader x Art on a shopping date 🤍
౨ৎ Word count: 2k
౨ৎ Warnings: sugar baby! reader, mentions & talk of sex (duh !), semi public sexual acts, age gap (reader early 20’s) dilf age Art, fluff, needy reader, horny Art, mentions of Tashi in between, mutual pinning, petite!reader (sorry tall ppl), reader and Art are all over each other constantly
A/N: don’t know if I should classify this as a blurb or a fic but I’m gonna go with blurb since it’s short and sweet !!
“Dogs ?”
You had scrunched up your nose and shook your head terribly at Arts attempts to guess your favorite animal. He tilted his head as he looked down at you with a grin.
“Cats ?” He probed. You nodded pleased, with a giggle.
“Do I strike you as a dog person at all ?”
“No.” Art had laughed out and it sounded of wealth and pure adoration of you.
You two had been walking down Rodeo Drive in the mist of perfect weather on a bright day, Art had offered to take you shopping while Tashi took care of tennis business for the two of you. She requested some space and quietness for an hour or two — so of course you’d never pass up your expectation of basically trying on dresses for Art Donaldson as a living.
It still hadn’t hit you on the full one-eighty your life has taken from going from a lost ballerina to Art and Tashi’s young, beautiful, tennis protégé.
Or shared girlfriend. Whatever you had been.
You loved it. Especially days like this, you’d spend as much time as you could with Art when he wasn’t touring because he made you feel like it had only been the two of you on earth when you were together. You never stopped laughing, blushing, kissing… and a spawn of other things.
But when he’d been actually playing tennis, or doing things for his career like press or photoshoots. You missed him dearly. Even when he’d spend time with his daughter Lily.
It made your mood dim, and you’d find yourself dissociating from conversations or tennis to think about him or ponder when he’d be back to steal you away again. Tashi always caught you in the drift of it, but you’d snap right back to reality when you’d hear her say. “Okay. Art’s gonna take you out.” Your mood and demeanor would shift entirely.
“I feel like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.”
“Isn’t that movie controversial ?” Art questioned.
“Aren’t you much older than me ?” You replied as you glanced up at him, giving him every glitter of your wide Bambi eyes. He chucked.
“Oh. So should I walk on the other side of the sidewalk.. if that’s too much for you ?” He looked down at you as he moved from where you walked to the other side of the not so spacious side walk to prove his sarcasm.
“No!” You pleaded with a girlish laugh as you followed him anyways, bumping your shoulder into his arm on purpose not to be separated for another second.
You’d want to hold his hand so badly when you two would be out together, but with his public image being Tashi Duncan’s star husband, it wasn’t exactly the best decision when it came to the press — so even with as much as he wanted to, Tashi always told him to lay low when it came to physical contact with you in the open. Especially somewhere as public as Beverly Hills.
You’d never known where paparazzi had been hiding, lurking and waiting. And it wouldn’t be so easy for them to try and idealize it as Art Donaldson and his exceptionally younger “friend” that he takes shopping and on dates.
Tashi couldn’t control when you had been at home and essentially couldn’t keep your hands off each other entirely. Always hugging, cuddling, fucking. It didn’t matter. You were on him or vise versa, but when you’d go out Tashi would specifically insist “don’t touch each other.” before you’d leave.
But hiding didn’t transpire to you so much when you just completely couldn’t help yourself when it came to the man that made your heart flutter, you’d fought the limitations anyways.
Walking side by side you brushed your pinky against Arts much bigger hand. You saw him look down and a soft grin took upon his lips at the sight of your manicured pink tips grabbing at his hand. He could never resist you. locking pinky’s with yours, your smile had turned bashful but pleased as you’d walk together. Just praying no paps had caught the moment and you’d have to go through Tashi’s wrath later on.
♡
It was dress after dress you’d pick off of the rack, skirts, tops, and more shoes than you’d ever seen at once in person. But you absolutely adored this. Trying not to make another painfully high pitched sound when you’d find another pair that made your eyes go wide in awe.
Art was right there behind you as he chuckled at all of your darling reactions, finding it utterly too cute. You were like a doll and he’d spoil you till you’d probably pass out from exhaustion the moment you both got home from all the perks of shopping till you dropped. Literally.
“I don’t know. I love the waistline, but a deep v neck ? I just don’t see it.” You stepped out of the dressing rooms to where Art had been lounging on a chair since he wasn’t allowed in the actual dressing room area.
Art couldn’t say he didn’t know a thing or two when it came to a sense in fashion. Tennis was a sport based around the most expensive and luxury brands displaying their most fashionable and articulately put together pieces on star athletes like himself. But mainly living with the total of four ladies including the maid, had done his knowledge of the craft wonders.
“I think you look amazing in it, baby.” He implied, crystal blues tracing your perfect body cinched into the tight dress.
It made your breast sit in such a way that Art had to adjust the way he sat in his seat. You looked at yourself in the mirror while your hand ran down your curves. Your heels made you stand taller and your legs showcased eloquently.
One of the workers brought you a glass of champagne and you thanked her kindly before taking a sip, then turning to Art with a suggestive unsure look on your face.
“But do I look amazing though ?” You asked puzzled, with mostly sarcasm and art had shook his head, he chuckled as you glided back into the dressing rooms.
He even brought you things to try on as he just couldn’t pull back from his own suggestions of what he thought you looked to die for in.
“Art,” You turned to him opening up the curtain of the small space as you’d been in the mist of changing, just in your bra and panties.
“Put this on.” He passed you a dress and you were taken back by his desperation and need to see you in his choice of clothing. You stood and took it from him, but you couldn’t deny the slight pass of dominance from him turned you on a bit. You smiled at the curtain when he closed it quickly to leave so he wouldn’t get caught.
When you came out in what he had gave you, Art unfolded his leg and sat straighter in his chair as he examined the sight. And was it a sight to see.
The dress was white, a sixties kind of cut as it made your waist look otherworldly. The corset top made your torso extend and it was short enough that if you moved a little too much it would have been quite a show.
“So, what do you think of your outfit choice on me, Mr. Donaldson ?” You asked with your hands on your hips and the look on his face as his eyes graced over you had you blushing terribly.
Art had to take in a breath with an embarrassing place being lost for words, he stood up to walk towards you. His hand touched the delicate straps.
“Turn around.” he instructed.
“Okay. Bossy.” You joked, meanwhile he bit his lip to hold back nearly letting out an audible noise as he took in the way it cupped your ass just right. You were perfection in his eyes, all dolled up just for him. He licked his lips,
“You’re gorgeous, angel. Do you like it ? Because I love it, and I think you need it in your wardrobe. Well, not need, but it would be a nice touch.” He went on and you laughed at his high regard, your face heating up quite quickly now.
“I think it’s really pretty.” Your hand ran across the top that was embroidered with jewels, your smile enchanting as Art watched you.“next one coming up.”
You had walked by to go change again, but as you did you felt a smack on your ass and you turned around quickly to see Art grinning to himself when you gasped.
The responsible side of you would of protested as you remembered Tashi’s words, but you were anything but responsible when it came to your favorite blonde. You shook your head as your sly smile matched his and you went back into your dressing room.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t that long before Art had snuck in again and opened up the curtain, this time inserting himself into the room with you.
“Art!” You could hardly stop him before he had moved your hair out of the way and started attacking your neck with kisses, sucking in your sent as hands ran over your body,
“Fuck, you look good.” He breathed out as he kissed you and you’d fallen weak to his trap. Hands running to grab his hair as he groped your tits through the dress and kissed you sloppily. He towered over your dainty figure as he treated your body like clay for him to mold, you let out a whine from the back of your throat as he ran his tongue over yours.
His hands were flighting to unzip your dress while hiking it up your hips at the same time.
“Careful, it’s not mine,” you breathed out as Art peppered kisses anywhere he could.
“Oh, it will be yours. I’m buying it as soon as I’m done with you.” his tone was low and full of arousal as he pushed your front against the wall of the dressing room.
As much as you wanted him to fuck you right there, feel every inch of his need to have you take his cock while he treated you to an entire wardrobe that any girl your age would die for, was enough to make you shed your panties right then. But you had slipped from under his grasp.
“We can’t, we’re in public.” You uttered and Art had backed away from you with a groan as he ran his hands down his face and you grinned at the state you had gotten him in, uncomfortably hard and dick nearly ready to come through his fly at just the sight of you.
“Fine,” he sighed out and got ahold of himself before leaving again, you tried not to give him a mischievous smirk as you adjusted yourself and the dress. “Don’t think I don’t know how much you want it, you little minx, be ready for later because we’re not done here.”
You batted your eyelashes and acted all innocent as he shut the curtain and then you giggled to yourself. You had all the shoes and dresses you wanted ready by the time you exited again, and now with lips shimmering with gloss, you made eye contact with Art as he paid for all your new attire with pleasure. Licking his own lips every time he scanned over you, he carried all of your bags and he walked out with you happily.
Completely forgetting about the paparazzi, Art took your hand in his with ease. leading you down the walkway and you had bitten your lip under a satisfied little smile.
A/N: ugh ! I need that !
#art donaldson x female reader#art donaldson smut#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson#ballerina!reader#x reader#challengers#challengers smut#challengers movie#tashi duncan#artashi#challngers x reader#chlmtsdoll writes
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u can run but u can hide
cw. ghostface!suna x fem!reader, pet names, smut, little non-con if u pay attention, established relationship at the end, english isn’t my first language.
wa. 2,7k
It was close to 10 p.m. when I went down to the kitchen to make some popcorn. My parents went on a trip and left me home alone. It was common for nights like this to happen, as they always traveled for work.
I put the butter and corn in the popcorn maker and turned on the stove at the same time as the landline in the living room started ringing. The phone was maintained by my parents' work, because let's face it, nobody still uses a landline these days.
“Hello?”
“Hello, who is it?” a thick voice asked on the other end of the line.
“Who are you trying to reach?”
“What number is this?”
“What number are you trying to reach?” I replied.
“I don't know.”
“Well, I think you have the wrong number, then” I spoke simplistically.
“Do I?”
“Yeah, it happens.” I shrugged, even though the person couldn't see me, and hung up the phone without waiting for an answer. I turned to go back into the kitchen when the phone rang again.
“Yeah, I guess I really did call the wrong number.” It was the same voice.
“So why did you call again?” I asked, with a laugh.
“To apologize.”
“You're forgiven. Bye.”
“Wait, don't hang up!” The person exclaimed.
“Huh? Why not?”
“I want to talk to you for a minute.”
“Well, you have plenty of other numbers for that.” I said with a smile, hanging up the phone.
The popcorn had left a delicious aroma in the kitchen and my mouth was already watering. I was stirring the popcorn popper, waiting for the corn to stop popping, when my cell phone rang. It was a private number, so I had no idea who it was, but I answered anyway.
“Hello?” I asked as I looked for a bowl to put my popcorn in.
“Why don't you want to talk to me?”
“Okay, who is it?”
“Tell me your name and I'll tell you mine.”
“Um, no, I don't think so.” I rested my cell phone on my neck to get the popcorn out of the pot.
“What's that noise?”
“Popcorn.”
“Um, I only eat popcorn at the movies.”
“Well, I'm going to watch a movie now.”
“Yeah? What movie?”
“Oh it's just some scary movie.”
“A scary movie? Interesting” the person on the other end of the line paused and I could hear his heavy breathing “What's your favorite scary movie?”
“Oh, I don't know...” I pondered a bit, leaning on the kitchen counter, popping some popcorn in my mouth “I think… Scream.”
“It's the one with the masked killer, isn't it?”
I mumbled an "uh-huh", wanting to end the conversation
“So, do you have a boyfriend?” The person asks.
“Why? Do you want to ask me out on a date?” I asked mischievously, with a laugh.
“Maybe. Do you have a boyfriend?”
“Mm, no.”
“You never told me your name.”
“Why do you wanna know my name?”
“‘Cause I wanna know who I’m looking at.” the person stopped talking and I remained silent, a shiver ran through my body and the joke was no longer funny. “Are you used to being alone at home, y/n?”
“Who's talking?” I asked seriously this time.
“Calm down, there's no need to get nervous” the person spoke with an annoying calmness “You see, it's important to lock all the doors when you're home alone, especially at this time of night. Are you sure everything is locked, y/n?”
“It's not funny anymore. You know I can call the police if you carry on with this silly little game, don't you?” I checked the front door and the door to the living room that led to the garden and both were locked.
“Yeah? And what would you say to the police? Although... I don't think it's a good idea to call the police, sweetheart, especially given the clothes you're wearing, right? You know how disgusting these guys can be.”
I swallowed, going up to the second floor.
“And what am I wearing?” I asked. It was probably just some weirdo trying to prank and scare me. From school, maybe. But even so, I checked the glass doors leading to the balcony, just to be sure.
“Um, let's see... You're wearing a black tank top, and apparently you're not wearing a bra since your nipples are marked on the fabric, and a... what is that? A pair of panties? Shorts? I can't tell the difference, but it's short, black and has a kitten print.” My heart was pounding out of my chest and I wouldn't be surprised if it jumped out “You're quite a sight, y/n.”
“Right, end of joke. I'll call the police.” I ended the call and went to my room. Of course I wouldn't call the police for that.
A cold wind blew in through the open window, chilling my bare legs. I hurried to close it and locked it out of conscience just as I heard a noise in the hallway, only to stick my head out and see nothing. I jumped with a gasp when my cell phone rang again, but fortunately, this time it was my mother.
“Hi babygirl, how are you?” she asked softly and I relaxed at hearing her voice.
“Hey, Mom! I’m okay, how are you?” I lied, I wasn't going to worry my parents on account of some unoccupied weirdo.
“We're fine!” I heard my father shouting "I love you, baby!" in the background and my mother's laughter “I called to see if everything was okay, you're not scared, are you?”
I laughed nervously “Of course not! I'm a big girl, I can stay at home on my own!”
“Huuumm okay, Mrs. Grown-up” we laughed “Make sure you go to sleep soon, huh? Don't stay up till dawn.”
“Yes, ma'am!” We laughed some more and said goodbye.
I was able to relax a bit more and went down to the kitchen to get my popcorn. I went upstairs and turned off the downstairs lights that were on and returned to my room, putting the movie on the TV and lying down on the bed.
[…]
I was almost halfway through the movie, about forty minutes in, when I heard a noise, a kind of thump. I instantly remembered the phone call from earlier, which had really scared me. I decided to ignore it, it must have been the wind knocking something over in the garden or something. I played the movie and snuggled into bed, my popcorn bucket long since empty. But, as my peace wasn't lasting long tonight, I began to hear heavy footsteps in the hallway. I stopped the movie immediately. I tried to convince myself that it was nerves about the phone call that must have been in my head, or even the influence of the movie, but it was too real to be in my head. The footsteps were firm, they didn't seem to want to go unnoticed. A thick, loud voice said "toc, toc" followed by two knocks on my door. I froze, paralyzed on the bed.
“Cat got your tongue, y/n?” it was the same voice from the phone, I knew for sure.
“What are you doing in my house?! How did you get in here?” I asked nervously.
“Come on, I told you it was dangerous to leave the doors unlocked, didn't I?” the guy said, in the same calm, irritating tone of voice.
“Everything was locked, you weirdo!”
“Are you sure?” the door handle began to turn slowly and my body moved on its own towards the closet.
I hid among my clothes, crouching on the floor. I was panting and shaking, tears in the corners of my eyes. I heard the door creak open and footsteps entered my room. I mentally cursed myself when I realized that I had left my cell phone on the bed. Now would be a good time to call the police.
“Do you want to play hide and seek?” he said, laughing before continuing: “All right, it's more interesting that way.”
I heard him open the door to my bathroom and I could see when he turned the light on through the crack in the door. I also heard him open the drawer of my dressing table and play the movie on the television, even though he had turned the volume down.
My heart was pounding loudly and I was afraid he could hear it, so I put my hand over my mouth to stop my panting coming out too loud. I watched as he opened the closet door. He was a tall guy. All black pants, shirt and boots and a white ghost mask preventing me from seeing his face. The fucking ghostface. He rummaged through some hangers, making space between the clothes. My heart beat even faster, he'll find me. He'll find me!
“Boo!” he made space at once between the clothes covering me, a sadistic laugh coming from beneath his mask.
[…]
“What do you want?” I asked in a tearful voice, sniffling.
He laughed: “Let's watch the movie.”
What?!
I looked at him paralyzed, still crouched on the floor of my closet, and he left, sitting on my bed.
“Aren't you coming?” he turned to me, as if waiting for me. I got up from the floor, walking slowly over to him and sitting on the bed on top of my legs. He shook his head in denial, clicking his tongue. “Come here, sit down.” he patted his own lap.
I swallowed and looked at him incredulously, even though I couldn't see his face. I stood up and faced him. With surprising speed, he turned me onto my back and whispered against the back of my neck: “Do you know what a safe word is, y/n?” I nodded “Yours is mercy, you'll use it if you need to.”
His big an cold hands gripped my thighs firmly from behind.
“Bent forward and your head on the floor.” he ordered, his voice firm.
I did as he asked, sat on his lap, my clitoris almost brushing against his scratchy jeans, I was hanging off the bed, my torso stretched out and my face almost touching my white fur rug.
“What do we have here?” he said, and even though I couldn't see his face, I could tell he was smiling.
He pulled my pajama shorts aside, the chilly air in the room making my pussy clench around nothing, since I wasn't wearing any panties. He ran one of his fingers between my outer lips, realizing right there that I was wet.
“Did the fright I gave you make you wet, sweetheart? What a pervert...” he pulled my shorts down my legs with a little difficulty due to the position, hooking my ankles around his waist.
His hands roamed up and down my thighs, his thumbs hooking into the curve of my ass. I was all open for him, open and dripping.
“So pretty, babe” his voice was nothing more than a whisper, followed by a slap on my ass. It burned.
One more.
One more.
One more.
My thighs trembled from the slaps and my pussy throbbed and ached from lack of stimulation. I moved my hips down, my clitoris rubbing against his jeans, and I let out a louder moan than I expected.
“Owwn” he laughed “Does that pussy need something, pretty girl?”
I gasped when his icy thumb brushed under my clitoris.
“Come on, beautiful, I asked you a question. Don't be rude.”
“I...” I was dizzy. Maybe because I was horny, maybe because of my position and my blood was rushing to my head. I was nothing but a mess.
“Looks like someone here likes to be scared” he laughed as he rubbed my swollen clit.
I moaned, unconsciously leaning towards him for more contact as his palm slapped my pussy, the pain reverberating throughout my body. He slapped my ass again, my skin was hot and burning.
“Your pussy looks even prettier when your ass is red, that’s funny” but his tone had no humor in it.
When the seventh slap came, I let out a yelp, scrambling to my feet in a failed attempt to ward off the pain burning my skin. He laughed at my attitude, stroking my burning ass. Each time he slammed into me, the momentum pushed me further and further down, rubbing my clit against his jeans, which were probably already stained with my lubrication. Those flashes of pleasure were what kept me there, the pain and pleasure turning me on even more.
“Come on, babe, do you want to cum already?” he asked in a whisper, leaning down.
I turned my crying face to the side, trying to see his figure: “Yes! I... Please!” I was nothing but a humiliating mess who just wanted some relief.
“Very well, then” he pulled my torso to himself, my back against his hard and warm chest, my battered ass pinching under his scratchy jeans.
“You okay, babe? Do you want to use your word?” he asked, his hot breath hitting my cheek. I denied it. He smiled. “That's my good girl.”
He laid me on the bed, my back on the mattress, while he lay on top of me. He ripped off my top with ease, my nipples erect from arousal and the chilly air in the room welcoming them. He tugged on my right nipple with his forefinger and thumb, twisting it and pulling it upwards, eliciting a moan from me. He left a kiss on my belly and started to undress, without taking off his mask yet. His chest was white and toned, with a few spots here and there, as were his thighs. His cock wasn't thick, but it was long and slightly curved upwards. The little pink head was leaking pre-cum and had a prominent vein at the base. I sighed at the sight.
“Enjoying the view, doll?” he asked, head tilted to the side, sliding his right hand in a slow masturbation. I tipped my head back, biting my lip with a stifled laugh. You bet I am. “Come here, sweetheart.”
He said slyly, pulling me up by my ankles and slowly inserting his cock into my needy pussy.
“Oh fuck” I moaned, sinking my head into the sheets. My insides trembled around his cock, feeling full. He sighed heavily above me, muffled by the mask.
He moved his hips back, taking his cock out completely, to shove it in again with force. He did this a few times before he started thrusting hard. I moaned loudly, too sensitive. My pussy was squeezing his hard cock and my clit was throbbing, my ass was burning against the sheets. I brought two fingers to my clit to stimulate it, but they were soon removed and replaced by his.
He rubbed my swollen spot hard with his thumb while I squeezed my nipples. The familiar pressure felt extremely good from my womb.
“Fuck, I'm going to cum!” I exclaimed as I felt my orgasm coming, and he increased the pace of his thrusts, driving deep into my pussy.
My legs trembled as the orgasm hit me and I opened my mouth in a silent moan. He penetrated me a few more times, prolonging my orgasm as he deposited his hot cum inside me.
“Fuck!” he exclaimed as he removed his mask, kissing me for the first time that night, a delicate kiss. I laughed against his lips. “You perverted little thing!” he laughed, slapping my sensitive ass, not so hard this time.
“Rin, babe! That was awesome!” I kissed him with so much love.
“You naughty naughty girl!” he laughed, biting my lower lip as he pushed his oozing cum back into my pussy.
“Yeah and you like it!”
Well, let's see what a coincidence. The weirdo Mr. Ghostface who broke into my house and fucked me happened to be my boyfriend, Suna. He and I always like to do something different when it comes to sex from time to time, and knowing that his naughty girlfriend was a little scared and horny about ghostface and that she'd be home alone all night, he wanted to surprise me. Besides, I would recognize my boyfriend's voice on the phone, which only increased my anxiety and excitement about what he would do that night. And what a good surprise it was!
#suna smut#suna#suna rintaro x reader#suna x reader#suna rintarou#suna rintaro haikyuu#suna rintarō#suna rintaro x you#suna rintaro x y/n#suna rintaro imagines#smut#suna haikyuu#suna headcanons#suna x you#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu#haikyu x reader#haikyū!!#ghostface#haikyuu hcs#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu suna#haikyuu smut#pls be nice#headcanon#imagine
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THE RICH MAN’S GUIDE TO CORRUPTION
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/b01a337452657c3fe4294eb169cf4ee8/fa2e001345ac8c37-ee/s540x810/abbb5b7c93559a2d55b358e2fb4c537908257982.jpg)
GIVE IT UP FOR LOVE
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warnings… i mean some absolute swine talk, gojo and geto are evil men, you’re a sweet and pure virgin. swearing, mentions of fucking, really just vile pig shit.
synopsis… suguru and satoru have a lovely chat over a warm summers breeze. oh! and sweet, un-expecting, vulnerable you is the topic of discussion.
a word from the creator… idk if i mentioned this but this fic is based loosely off the movie cruel intentions! banger film, check it out. i wrote a lot of this chapter awhile ago so if the writing style switches up next chapter don’t sue me. i’m excited!!!! here’s to the next eleven chapters of hell
series masterlist
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/b01a337452657c3fe4294eb169cf4ee8/fa2e001345ac8c37-ee/s540x810/abbb5b7c93559a2d55b358e2fb4c537908257982.jpg)
Gojo hates the heat. He thinks he's tolerated it before on his father’s yacht or when he did an unnecessary shirtless carwash for extra money he didn't need; but right now with the breeze through the window— that Suguru demanded be open— overbearing the air conditioner, he's absolutely positive that summer is the worst.
“Start of the year’s comin’, yknow.” He typically broke the silence— as if he could ever shut up to begin with— and he was almost always met with a:
“No shit.” strident response. Those seemed to be Suguru’s speciality, and provoking them seemed to be Satoru’s.
It’s too hot. His white hair presses into the drywall, feeling much cooler than the air outside. “I’m not stupid, Suguru. Neither are you, you know what I mean.” It’s an overdramatic sigh— a call for attention— as he turns his head over to look at him.
“They’re gonna ask us about it soon.” And, in some way Suguru can’t really comprehend, Gojo sounds excited.
His manner isn’t necessarily wrong, not so much as it is unexpected. The ‘new year, new fuck’ competition of Azabu was practically famous among the young men certain to attend— the sons of the sons who started it, and all their nephews or cousins or any synonym for a pig of a relative that they could come up with. And, luckily enough, they had the privilege to be top candidates.
The competition was started by the current dean’s uncle, a horny fuck-all type who would take any and all excuse to boost his ego while tearing down a girls— or maybe he really did just want a good lay. But, it grew and grew and grew, and now it was almost ritualistic, a second identity of worthiness in the form of fucking a virgin before anyone else did.
Sure, they were nothing but thrilled for it as high school reached an end, or even the first or second year of university. But now it just seemed dull.
But, traditions are custom, and customs are a necessity. It’s almost become lore throughout their little clique of affluence; whispered stories from childhood turned into real competition after a long wait, especially from a group of people who so rarely have to wait for anything. It’s inspiring, they think, means to associate themselves with a lower class; normalize themselves just a little more.
Alumni share stories at functions, putting the frat in fraternizing, nonchalance on the tips of their tongues. Sometimes the tone almost feels dark, and Suguru thinks if he were a better person he’d feel some type of sympathy for the girls. Any fragment of empathy he had wiped away when he won for the first time, though, wide smirk as his year mates glared at him; memories of the tight, albeit idiotic, girl engrained behind the lids of his eyes.
Even so, it gets old quick. And it’s not like they don’t fuck dumb, stupid, silly girls with nothing to say for the rest of the year anyway. So, he can’t quite figure out what Gojo is all too excited about.
“Well try to make sure your dick doesn’t get hard from the thought, you fucking freak.” There’s a giggle from the other man, a scoff too, and he pushes his hand out at him.
This is crucial. This is who they are together. A pair— whether it’s a pair of awful men or not.
There’s also a sense of trepidation that comes with it, of course. It’s exclusive, more so than they already are, and if you do one thing wrong- speak a little too loud, come off too brash, give a lackluster lie after actually getting caught— you’re out. And whose pride would want that?
“It’s stupid we always gotta wait for them to sit us down, it’s not like we don’t know what’s coming up.” He scoffs, arms crossing over his chest. “Plus, what a fucking weird thing to say to your kid.”
“I mean the whole thing’s odd if you think about it.” Gojo shrugs, hands stuffed in his pockets, forearms bare against the linen of his trousers.
He’s right, of course. Even if neither of them feel guilt for their actions, they can’t ignore the sinking feeling in their stomach when their own fathers sit them down and incite such a twisted view on them.
Be that as it may, it’s not too bad when that’s all they know, and it’s not like either of them are going to complain at a quick orgasm, a nice pair of tits, and that goddamn feeling of triumph.
“Do you think they’ll cry again?” Satoru mocks, brimming with glee as he leans in the direction of his friend. “It’s always funny, dontcha think?”
“As if you’d know,” There’s a smirk despite the aggression in his tone. “Dunno why it matters so much to you, you already got bitches babbling about you all the time.”
Gojo sighs, expression bored and childish and fucking greedy. “Yeah, I know but…” His voice peters out, lost in the room. Elation bubbles back into his features, warming his cheeks and animating his eyes as he looks at Suguru.
“Yknow, I heard the dean has a daughter starting, actually. Real sweet gal, even wrote a whole fucking magazine article about the importance of ‘saving your innocence’” his voice wobbles, eyes rolling as he sneers. “for someone you really love.”
“Sounds like she’s ugly.”
“Thought so, too, but..” He trails off, hand fishing in his back pocket for his phone, pupils dilating at the light on his screen. It doesn’t take him long to find the photo; clearly he’s been sitting on his discovery for awhile, anticipating when he could tell him. “Look.”
Suguru doesn’t like to be wrong, much less will he ever admit it. “Holy shit.” You aren’t necessarily the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, probably not even the prettiest he’s seen in the last month, but you were definitely something.
Maybe it was the curve of your jaw or the tint in your lips, but the photo set something off in him. On the surface he thinks it’s the just barely explicit face you’re making in your mirror, phone in hand as you look into your lens, but really, honestly, if he’s searching deep down— it’s the fact he knows you’re the one girl who wouldn’t just throw herself on him if he so kindly asked.
“Sugu, are you ever bored of this? It feels too easy, right?” Suddenly Gojo’s previous excitement feels misplaced, voice itching for more. “Hardest part about it is finding out who’s actually a virgin or not, and that’s pretty simple with how awkward they get.”
“What are you saying?” Maybe he already knows, maybe he’s hoping for the obvious, but he asks like he doesn’t care. The former moves fast, hand steady on the desk as he leans far too close for comfort. In any other situation, he’d probably be met with a harsh jab to the face, but this feels different— secret.
“Let’s do something, on our own, just you and me.” He almost seems too impatient, pressure digging into the ground from the toes of his shoes and gaze begging. It was the kind of thing that made you want to agree, if nothing else to just feel a fraction of the way he seemed to be. Before Suguru could even consider the idea, test the waters and make Gojo beg a little bit, said boy opened his mouth again.
“I mean, unless you’re not up for it. You don’t really seem like the type to make a girl give it up for love.” He snickers, raising the back of his hand to his forehead as he feigns swooning.
“Geto, I— I love you.” His voice is high, wheezy in his imitation and a little rude. “I think.. I think I’m ready- I want it to be you.” He cuts himself off with his own laugh, hand circling over his mouth to try to stifle himself. “Could you imagine?”
“The fuck does that mean?!”
“Cmon, Suguru, you’re not really the endearing type.” He’s edging him now, tone manipulative and pressing and snarky and Suguru knows— of course he knows, but it can’t help but irk him.
“What are you thinking?” And now Gojo’s beaming again, feet guiding him back across the room to his bag, books stacked neatly inside, lying even against each other. He pulls out a magazine and tosses it to him haphazardly before he reaches back for a notebook and a pen.
“Page 36, read it.” The article is cheesy. It’s too long and feels like something right off a self care Facebook page. Suguru is sure he physically recoiled a couple times reading it; especially when you wrote ‘Virginity is a miracle— the ability to show someone how much you love them in such an intimate way should be saved for someone special.’.
It’s shocking that you’re the daughter of the man who oversees their little sex game.
Suguru thinks you’re vile— embarrassing and pathetic and a huge fucking waste of what seems like a really good pair of blowjob eyes. It makes his skin crawl and he verbally scoffs when he reads your finishing sentence about cherishing your virtues, so focused on the arrogance in your punctuation that he doesn’t even hear Gojo’s laugh.
“Pretentious as shit, right?” He snorts, eyes flickered as he recites the passage in his head. “It’s gonna feel so good to fuck the words right out of her mouth.” Suguru didn’t know what he expected from his friend, but it wasn’t that. It’s clear through, through and through, that he’s dedicated to the idea.
“I mean sure, I guess you’ll have your turn. Maybe she’ll fuck just about anyone after I win.”
“Wait, so you’re in?”
“Whatever.”
“Fuck yeah!” He’s joyful, fist pumping into his chest in a quick celebration before he’s holding up his notebook, standing directly across the floor from the desk.
The wood is dark, deep and marbled, glazed over the top and lined with little symbols of power in the form of trophies. It’s clearly something too nice to serve as a welcome mat, but nonetheless Suguru rests his heels on the surface, ankles crossed over each other as he leans back in his chair. His eyes point to the ceiling to look at anything other than the annoyance in front of him.
“Well clearly we need to set up some rules.” He sneers in his seat when he remembers not looking at him won’t make him shut up.
“Okay well we have the obvious: whoever fucks first wins. And I mean fucks, none of that sloppy anal shit. Doesn’t count.” It’s almost funny, but neither of them acknowledge it. If they do, that’ll come hand in hand with the fact they’re acting just like their fathers.
“She has to be sober.” He didn’t really expect himself to say that, but he did expect Satoru to whine.
Gojo lets it sit in the air for a second before he nods curtly and jots something done.
“Would it be too cocky to say she has to cum?” The journal’s away from his face now and someone could, and probably would, argue that the walls are lucky to see the boyish grin he’s got. His smirk pulls up at the corners of his lips, but Suguru just finds it vexing. Gojo is far too full of himself, he thinks, and he hates to admit there’s good reason.
Nonetheless, he has to give him a little shit. “Do they normally not with you?”
“Hey! That’s not what I meant, asshole.” There’s something sweet to Satoru, under all the sickening that is his personality. It makes people understand just why girls fall for him, and definitely helps him keep a good image to the public.
And there’s something smart to him that makes you feel like he could really pull whatever he wanted off. It makes the idea of competing with just him much more appealing.
“Are we gonna have like a— fuck I don’t know— like a time limit?”
“Fuck is this? A video game?”
“I mean no, but competition wise if it takes us like half a year isn’t that kind of stupid? Because who’s to say she won’t ‘really love you’ by then, and then you’re not making her go against anything, yknow?” And there's also something meticulous about him that makes him aggravating as all hell.
“Fine. A month.”
“Just a month?”
“Yeah, you’re right. Plus, anything longer than that and we’d just be a couple of fucking losers chasing after a bitch.” Suguru knows Gojo is giving him a look without even seeing it, the slightly judgmental and almost kind one he does. “What? You’re the one who said it to begin with.”
“Yeah, okay, whatever. A month.” It’s silent for a second, comfortable with all their years of each other, before he clears his throat.
“That it then?” Maybe they’re the same kind of evil. Maybe they deserve each other.
“One more, actually.” There’s that feeling from him again, the tone that makes Suguru want to agree aimlessly for no fucking reason other than the possible rush. And before he can fester; before his skin can start to crawl and his hands can get clammy just from that sheer desire in his voice, Gojo grins.
“You need proof. And I don’t mean her saying it, because you can bribe anyone into saying anything. Gotta show it, photo or video or something, balls deep or whatever the fuck.” That almost makes Suguru laugh.
“I don’t think she’s gonna go for that one, no matter how good the dick is.”
“She doesn’t have to know.” Now he’s really thrilled. He doesn’t know what it is, but that lights something in him, stirs in his stomach and causes a little quiver in his brow.
“Fuck yeah, man,” he’s really laughing now, pointing at the journal harshly. “write that shit down.”
There’s something unspoken over them now, a deeper bond than they thought they could have. Neither of them would ever admit it, but it feels like they’re those two high schoolers again, counting down til they can become something fucking great. This is the feeling they’re supposed to get from their fathers’ stupid fucking contest. This is actual competition, a chance to actually win.
A new air falls on them, mixed back in with that warm, rich breeze.
“Okay, that settles that then.” Gojo offers, fingers tapping the binding of his book. “She has to be attending the start of the year banquet so that’ll be an excuse to meet her. Everything from then on is up to us.” Suguru always dreaded that shitty event, but now he finds himself doing mental math to count how far away it is.
Even if the whole thing is trivial, and even if you seem like the most uptight thing ever, Suguru is a man of pride. And prideful he’ll be.
“We still gotta do the ‘new year’ thing, you know. They’ll burst a fucking artery if we say we’re not interested.” His voice is gravelly and calm and so not anything he’s feeling, but he thinks Gojo buys it when he chuckles.
“Can you be excommunicated from being a womanizer? Because I think we would be.” They’re almost joking like everything is normal. It’s different, so much different, but they’re acting the same.
“I’m gonna go grab some water and maybe call one of your maids to make lunch, you want anything?” Suguru shakes his head, shifting in his seat as he tries his hardest not to look at the journal Satoru set on the side table.
“Suit yourself, I’ll be back.”
“Whatever,” He waits after Gojo walks out. Waits a good forty five seconds before he stands up, and he crosses the room in about three.
He glances over at the thrown aside notebook, eyes quick as he scans it. The handwriting is adjacent to messy, scattered and the page is littered with semi vulgar doodles and side bars. It’s coherent, though, and even though they both know Gojo had no intention of giving it to him, it’s got his signature at the bottom.
1. Full fucking!! Penis in vagina
2. No signs of being inebriated. Absolutely stone cold sober
3. If it takes longer than a month after everyone is introduced we’re both “a couple of fucking losers” (< Sugu’s words)
4. Orgasms are important ! Or at least near orgasms (she is a virgin)
5. Photo / video proof. If you can’t get it, you aren’t in it (haha! get it?)
He snickers at four, the uneasy tone in the second sentence almost self deprecating. Despite that, he can’t help but feel a smidge of respect that he ended up adding it to begin with.
He grabs the pen from the table, pressing into the paper too hard as he leaves his chicken scratch of a John Hancock. Okay, maybe this will be fun.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/b01a337452657c3fe4294eb169cf4ee8/fa2e001345ac8c37-ee/s540x810/abbb5b7c93559a2d55b358e2fb4c537908257982.jpg)
taglist… @moonlight-pearls @sharkerino @echerie
#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#satoru x reader#jjk x reader#gojo smut#jjk smut#geto x reader#suguru x reader#geto suguru x reader#suguru geto x reader#suguru smut#geto smut#satoru smut#jjk#gojo satoru#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#jjk x you#geto x you#geto x y/n#the rich man’s guide to corruption
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Kathryn hahn x female reader
The "Hot Ones" set was bustling with quiet excitement, a controlled chaos typical of pre-show preparation. Camera crew checked equipment, producers murmured among themselves, and a makeup artist made last-minute adjustments on Kathryn Hahn. Y/N sat across from her, observing the scene with a familiar calm. They had just finished working on a movie together, and now here they were, about to test their spice tolerance while answering questions that would dig deep into their lives and careers.
“Ready for this?” Kathryn asked, her wide grin flashing toward Y/N as she adjusted the lapel of her shirt.
Y/N smirked. “Born ready.” At 23, Y/N had already made a name for herself in horror, playing twisted killers that haunted the nightmares of many, but her recent turn as Knightmare in the Marvel universe was opening new doors. Her character, the daughter of the Seven Deadly Sins, was dark, complex, and thrilling to portray—just the kind of role Y/N loved.
Kathryn, on the other hand, was an actress with a range as wide as her laugh. The two had worked together on a thriller, a gritty, emotionally charged film, and the chemistry between them on screen had been palpable. Off-screen, that chemistry had turned into a solid friendship. And now, under the glow of studio lights, about to dive into an increasingly spicy array of wings, that camaraderie was about to be tested.
The host, Sean Evans, strolled in with his signature warm smile, taking a seat across from the two actresses. “You ready for this?” he asked, echoing Kathryn’s earlier question.
Kathryn gave a mock-terrified look, glancing at Y/N. “I thought I was until I remembered how much Y/N enjoys hot sauce.”
Y/N chuckled, her deep voice soft but edged with amusement. “I have a pretty high spice tolerance, so you’re in trouble, Hahn.”
Sean laughed. “We’ll see about that. Kathryn, Y/N, welcome to Hot Ones—the show with hot questions and even hotter wings. Let’s get started.”
The first wing was harmless, a simple kick of flavor without too much heat. They both handled it with ease, bantering back and forth about their experiences filming the movie. Sean jumped in with his first question for Y/N.
“Y/N, you’ve been known to dominate in the horror genre, playing some truly terrifying killers. What’s it like to play someone so evil, especially being so young?”
Y/N wiped her fingers with a napkin, thinking about her answer. “You know, it’s funny because I don’t think of them as evil when I’m playing them. I try to understand what makes them tick, why they do what they do. It’s more about understanding the character’s pain or trauma that leads them to those dark places. I’ve always been fascinated by the psychology of horror.” She glanced at Kathryn, who nodded in agreement. “And honestly, it’s pretty fun to play the bad guy. You get to let out all that chaos you’d never allow in real life.”
Sean nodded, intrigued. “And how does that translate into playing Knightmare in Marvel? She’s still dark, but she’s got that anti-hero edge.”
“Oh, definitely,” Y/N replied, leaning back in her chair. “Knightmare is all about redemption, but she’s also struggling with her nature. She’s the daughter of the Seven Deadly Sins, so she’s constantly fighting against her darker impulses. There’s something relatable about that—fighting your inner demons, you know?”
Kathryn cut in, laughing. “It’s wild because Y/N, in real life, is the least threatening person ever. You wouldn’t guess she plays these intense, terrifying characters by the way she’s so laid-back.”
Y/N gave her a playful nudge. “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”
They moved on to the next wing, which had a noticeable increase in heat. Kathryn started to feel the burn, her eyes widening slightly, while Y/N stayed cool, eating the wing like it was nothing.
“Okay, Kathryn, this one’s for you,” Sean said, holding back a laugh at her reaction to the spice. “You’ve had such a versatile career, from comedy to drama, and now this thriller with Y/N. What’s it been like switching between genres?”
Kathryn blew out a breath, fanning her face. “Whew, that’s hot. Uh, yeah, it’s been a wild ride. I love that I get to explore so many different kinds of roles. Comedy will always be my first love, but I also love getting into the grittier stuff, like our movie. There’s something so cathartic about diving into those deeper emotions.”
She turned to Y/N, her eyes bright. “Working with Y/N was a dream. She’s got this quiet intensity on set, and it just pulls you in. You can’t help but feed off of it.”
Y/N chuckled, shaking her head. “You make me sound like some brooding method actor.”
Kathryn raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you?”
Y/N grinned. “Maybe a little.”
The third wing brought the heat up a notch, and while Kathryn squirmed in her seat, Y/N remained as calm as ever. The difference between their reactions was obvious, and it made the dynamic all the more entertaining for Sean and the audience.
“You’re not even breaking a sweat, Y/N,” Sean said, half amazed. “What’s your secret?”
Y/N shrugged casually. “I just like spicy food. Grew up eating it. Plus, after playing a serial killer in all these horror movies, I guess my pain threshold’s pretty high.”
Kathryn laughed through the heat building in her mouth. “You say that so casually, like, ‘Oh, just another day at the office, murdering people and eating fire.’”
Y/N gave her a sly smile. “Pretty much.”
The fourth wing hit hard, a noticeable jump in spice, and Kathryn visibly winced, reaching for her water. Y/N, however, still appeared unfazed, though she did take a sip of her water just to stay hydrated.
“You’ve worked on some pretty intense scenes together in your latest movie,” Sean said, wiping his own brow. “Was there a moment during filming where the tension on set was almost too real?”
Kathryn let out a deep breath, eyes still wide from the spice. “Oh, man, there was this one scene where Y/N’s character is supposed to be chasing mine down this dark alley. It was late at night, cold, and Y/N is just in full killer mode. She’s got this look in her eyes, and even though I know it’s all acting, for a split second, I thought, ‘Oh my God, I’m going to die.’”
Y/N laughed softly. “I do remember that. You gave me this look after we cut, like, ‘Please don’t ever look at me like that again.’”
Kathryn nodded emphatically. “Exactly! You scared the hell out of me, but it made the scene so much better. That’s what I love about working with you. You’re so committed, and you push everyone around you to be better.”
Y/N glanced down, almost shy for a moment, her masculine energy softening under Kathryn’s praise. “I just want to make sure we all bring our best, you know?”
They reached the fifth wing, and by now, Kathryn was struggling. Her face was flushed, and she took frequent sips of milk between bites, while Y/N continued to soldier on, a subtle sheen of sweat on her brow the only sign that the heat was affecting her at all.
Sean jumped in with another question, this time focusing on their personal dynamics. “You two clearly have great chemistry, both on screen and off. Was there a moment when you realized you clicked as friends?”
Kathryn looked at Y/N, a smile curving her lips despite the heat. “I think it was during one of our rehearsal breaks. We were both exhausted, and Y/N just pulls out this deck of cards and starts doing magic tricks. I lost it. I didn’t expect that from her at all.”
Y/N chuckled. “Yeah, I was just trying to lighten the mood. Rehearsals can get intense, and I figured a little distraction wouldn’t hurt.”
Sean raised an eyebrow. “Magic tricks? Really?”
Y/N nodded. “It’s just a hobby, something I picked up when I was younger. Helps with the hand-eye coordination too, which is useful when you’re playing someone who’s good with knives.”
Kathryn shook her head, laughing. “See what I mean? Full of surprises.”
The sixth wing, known as "Da Bomb," was infamous for its brutal heat. Kathryn braced herself, biting into it hesitantly, and immediately regretted it. Her face contorted in agony as she reached for her milk, gasping slightly.
“Oh my God,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. “This is insane.”
Y/N took a bite, her expression neutral for a moment before she nodded slowly. “Okay, yeah, this one’s got some kick.”
Sean, looking slightly devilish, leaned in. “Y/N, you’ve got a high spice tolerance, but even you seem to be feeling this one. Has anything ever rattled you on set the way this wing is?”
Y/N considered the question, her voice steady despite the heat. “Honestly, the only time I get rattled is when the stakes are high for the scene, like an emotional climax. I can handle gore and action all day, but the scenes where you have to really tap into something vulnerable—that’s the
stuff that gets me.”
Kathryn, tears in her eyes from the heat, managed to nod. “Yeah, those are the hardest. You get so wrapped up in it, it’s like you’re baring a part of yourself.”
Y/N reached over, patting Kathryn on the shoulder. “You’re doing great, Hahn. Almost there.”
They finally reached the last wing, the infamous "Last Dab." Kathryn looked at it with dread, while Y/N calmly added an extra dab of sauce to hers, a cocky smile playing on her lips.
“You’re insane,” Kathryn muttered, though her voice held admiration.
Y/N winked. “Gotta go out with a bang, right?”
They both took their bites, and Kathryn immediately regretted it, her face turning red as she reached for more water and milk, anything to dull the fire. Y/N winced slightly, but powered through, still in control.
Sean laughed, amazed. “Y/N, you’ve officially survived the hot seat! Kathryn, you too—barely.”
Kathryn, still recovering, gave a shaky thumbs-up. “I don’t know how I’m still alive, but I made it!”
As the interview wrapped, Y/N leaned back in her chair, her calm demeanor intact, while Kathryn fanned herself, still feeling the burn. Despite the spice, the bond between them was undeniable, strengthened by their shared experience on set and in life. And as they exited the stage, laughing and teasing each other, it was clear that their friendship—like their careers—was built to last.
This is the second one as a little sorry for not posting
#lesbian#wlw#wlw post#x fem reader#x reader#x fem!reader#kathryn hahn#kathryn hahn x reader#agatha all along#agatha harkness x reader#agatha x reader#agatha harkness#women of marvel
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Everything happens for a reason part 5 - Alexia Putellas x pregnant!reader
Summary: the world cup final holds some bumps and bruises.
Warnings: angst, blood, injury (all resolved don’t worry!!)
Notes: We pretend alexia played the full 90 of the final… and assisted the winner🤫and no R*biales situation. ALSO deepest apologies for how inactive i’ve been, i have been busy but… i’ve also been lazy i’ll try and be better from now on im sorry!! ❤️
⭐️My requests are open!
Other parts here!!
~~~~
Things had been a lot calmer since yours and Alexia’s phone call. The morning sickness and overall fatigue was ever present but the mind numbing arguing had subsided. Alexia still wasn’t overly impressed that you were still playing, as you were nearing the end of your first trimester. The management staff now knew about your pregnancy but after a medical checkup and lots of reassuring, they cleared you to complete the tournament.
The World Cup final was soon and you’d just finished the match that saw you get through. As the final whistle blew, relief flooded your system at the win.
“YES WE’RE THROUGH Y/N!” Screamed Mary, picking you up and hoisting you onto her back.
“I know I can’t believe it!!” You shouted back
The rest of the girls were celebrating as you remained on the goalkeeper’s back, her carrying you around like a carriage.
“Oi careful Mearps don’t want to damage the little princesa!” Bellowed Lucy, upon seeing you on her back.
You were pretty sure Alexia had threatened Lucy in some way in order for her to look out for you whilst Alexia couldn’t. You couldn’t go a day without the older brunette either piling extra food onto your plate, shouting at someone for touching you lightly or simply calling the baby “La princesa”.
——
Later that evening, you were splayed across Lucy’s bed, Alessia beside you as the two of you had decided to bombard the older girl until she agreed to let you come in. A Disney movie was playing in the background as you rested your head in Alessia’s lap, your hand absentmindedly tracing patterns on your small bump.
“Ughh why are my tits so sore!” You groaned
“I don’t think your wife would be too happy about me partaking in a conversation about your tits” joked Lucy sarcastically.
“oh shut up! Everything just hurts all the time now, my whole body just kills, especially after the matches” you whined.
“Old age feels the same” laughed Lucy.
“Well both of you are complaining an awful lot considering we only have the final to go, surely that’s exciting no?” added Alessia
“I mean sure it’s exciting but i’m not really looking forward to playing against my wife and half of our team”
“Yeah me neither honestly” agreed Lucy
“Ugh you’re both so miserable, we’ve made it to our first world cup final!” Alessia insisted
“I can’t wait to go home honestly” you began. “I mean obviously I’d love for us to win and this tournament has been incredible, but I just miss my wife and my dog” you explained, eyes filling with tears.
“Oh honey are you crying?” Alessia asked, pulling you into her embrace
“shut up i’m not crying” you huffed in disgust, causing alessia to squeeze you harder. “it’s the baby it’s not me” you sobbed
“look at that la reina is controlling you through her spawn even when she’s not here” bellowed lucy
“Piss off bronze” you sulked
———
Training leading up to the final was exhausting to say the least, and it really wasn’t helped by the helicopter parenting you got from half of the team, regarding the baby. The running joke of you “carrying the heir to the throne” caught on quick, even Sarina had played into it, which really didn’t help the teasing you were already receiving from the girls.
Alexia had managed to call you every day recently, inquiring after the health of her “princesas” and somehow managing to hover more than anyone, despite not even being there in person. That is how you found yourself, the day before the final on the phone to your wife, despite you both swearing not to speak to each other before the match.
“Yes Alexia i have been eating well” you huffed
“Are you sure mi amor? How is the sickness?” she replied
“Still exists but it’s definitely better now, it’s only in the morning so it’s not draining me quite as much.”
“That’s good bebita, how are you feeling about tomorrow?” Your wife questioned with a frown.
“Hey i thought we agreed, no football talk” you asked, raising your eyebrows.
“sí but i couldn’t resist mi amor, it won’t leave my mind”
“i know Ale but just think, after tomorrow we’ll be together again, regardless of the result” you smiled
“i miss you so much” she sighed
“i miss you too baby” you agreed
———
Dinner that evening was tense, it was evident that despite the excitement in the air at the prospect of a world cup final, the anxiety levels were also high. Even Georgia who was infamous for her inability to keep quiet, was relatively subdued. A strange sense of dread overcame your body as you realised your little bubble would burst as soon as the World Cup was over. Which was not to say that that you didn’t miss your wife because you most definitely did but you knew that this would almost certainly be your last game of competitive football before the baby arrived which was bittersweet when you really thought about it.
“How you feeling darling?” Questions Mary, lightly bumping your hip as she passed her plate onto the chef to be loaded.
“Nervous but excited i think” you half laughed.
“You’ll be amazing, you’ve saved us multiple times in this tournament. I know how hard it’ll be to be up against her but you deserve it y/n! Celebrate that regardless of the result tomorrow”
“You always know what to say Mary” you smiled, bringing the older woman into a hug.
You hadn’t slept so well since the tournament has started, sometimes all that was needed was a friend.
The journey to the match saw you receiving a good luck text from many people, one of which being your mother in law. Although you knew she’d be supporting Spain, as would Alba, you knew that the pair would be proud of both you and Alexia regardless of the result.
——
The bus arrived at the ground after a short 30 minute drive, something you were thankful for as that pregnancy travel sickness was no joke. You were seated next to Alessia much to your delight, the younger girl had been nothing but supportive of you the entire tournament. Ella and Mary were sat opposite you two on the table, playing a rather competitive game of uno.
“You ready?” Alessia sighed as she stood up.
“As ready as i’ll ever be” you said, mirroring her sigh.
“LETS GO GIRLS!” Bellowed Ella, the brunette forever having no filter.
You stepped off the bus, only to be greeted by masses of fans behind the gates, waiting to cheer you in. Many of those fans were adorned in Spanish shirts, likely hoping to get a video of you, Lucy and Keira as you noticed a couple of them with Barça scarves around their necks.
You smiled as you high-fived the row of mascot children to your right, carrying a bottle of water in your other hand.
As you found your way to the changing room, the atmosphere started to sink in as you realised you were actually at a world cup final, something that 5 year-old you had dreamed of since the day your idols Ronaldinho and Rivaldo had stepped onto that same stage 21 years ago.
Pitch inspection was up next as you wandered beside your captain with her reminding you of formation and reassuring you of your importance to the team throughout the tournament. You looked across the pitch and saw the Spanish team doing the same thing, wondering whether or not it would be appropriate to go and greet them.
Lucy being Lucy, beat you to that thought as she bounded over in the direction of Ona and your recognisably pink-haired girlfriend. Alexia was adorned in a navy blue tracksuit that proudly (or rather not so) displayed the RFEF emblem on her heart.
You wandered over, slightly more carefully than your counterpart, locking eyes with your wife as she looked up from her phone. Her gaze softened as it met yours, the both of you knowing that a conversation would result in tears, no matter the nature of it. Instead, you chose a simple hug, a hug that said more than words ever could. One of her arms was settled on your back, the other reached gently over your hoodie to caress the small bump that formed there.
“I love you” she whispered softly in your ear.
“Te amo” you responded, before breaking the hug and wandering back over to join the rest of your teammates, knowing you both needed the focus before the match and any further interaction would have to wait for the sake of concentration.
Upon reaching the dressing room, you began to change into your warmup kit, placing your hands where your wife’s have been just moments ago and smiling.
“Starting to show are we?” Questioned Leah with a smirk
“Hmm yes a little” you smiled
“How do you feel seeing her?” She inquired after Alexia
“Honestly relieved to be with her again” you sighed
“Well that’s good darling, we’ve got a game to win now come on!” She cheered as she dragged you by the arm, onto the pitch.
——
You readied yourself into position, you spared a simple glance at your wife, knowing that regardless of the result today you would end up in her arms and that thought alone was enough to calm some of the nerves currently enveloping your body. You glanced into the stadium briefly, scanning the crowd where your gaze met your mother and sister in law, cheering frantically. You noticed that Alba was in fact wearing an England scarf on top of her Spain jersey, a detail that made you grin slightly at her love.
The game kicked off relatively fast paced with Spain holding much of possession but luckily the majority of that possession was through their defence and midfield and far from your backline. The actual tempo of the game was relatively calm with the majority of Spain’s attacking opportunities being closed down through the talented midfield and sharp defence that England possessed.
However this all but changed in the 29th minute as Lucy made a risky run out into the middle and you were torn between covering her and staying on Jenni as she’d positioned herself perfectly onside, ready to receive any loose ball that came her way and likely put it in the net, knowing the talented feet of the 33 year old. Ultimately you stood your ground with Jenni, calling on Georgia to come back and cover. Before Georgia could grasp what you were saying over the volume of the crowd, Spain had regained possession via Alexia as she slotted a pass of pin point accuracy across to Olga Carmona who running at full speed down the wing, the wing in which Lucy should reside. Damn Lucy Bronze and her spontaneous spurts of energy. Your legs moved faster than your mind as you raced across the pitch, attempting to thwart Spain’s promising attack but before you could get there, Carmona struck the ball with a perfection that many could only dream of. You watched as the ball soared across the goal, straight at the right post and hit the back of the net as Mary stretched out fully.
The save never came.
Everything went silent.
Spain had scored and there was nothing you could do about it.
Your ears tuned back into reality as you watched Olga lift her shirt to reveal a message in celebration, you watched as her teammates, including your wife, rushed to pile her into a group hug. You watched as your own teammates sauntered back to the half way line in despair, knowing that your decision to stick back could’ve been the decider that cost a goal in potentially the most important game of your career.
Despite all this, you couldn’t help but feel a warmth inside you as you saw Alexia, the look of pure passion and happiness on her face, a look you missed seeing when she played. Your wife had assisted the goal to put her team ahead in a World Cup final and despite it being against your beloved England, you couldn’t help but feel a small sense of joy for the woman you loved.
——
Half time couldn’t have come any sooner as you wiped your brow and plodded off the field, exhausted from both the physical and emotional battles that the first half had brought.
The dressing room was tense, Sarina was in the centre of it offering a motivating team talk, a team talk you payed little attention to as all you could think about was how you selfishly hoped she’d pull you off at half time. You’d never ask to come off but if she did decide to take you off in that moment, you couldn’t help but feel you’d be happy for the rest as the pregnancy was seriously impacting your energy levels.
To your disappointment, your prayers were not answered and you were forced to likely endure another 45 minutes of football, despite the ache that persisted throughout your body. You gathered into the huddle of your teammates, just as the second half was about to commence.
“You alright y/n?” Asked Lucy, concern etched in her face
“Mhm just a little exhausted” you assured the older woman
“Well vamos chica let’s kick some Spanish ass!” Cheered Lucy, as the huddle broke up and everyone returned to their positions.
——
The second half started slowly with near enough no excitement, England has their chances throughout but none of them connected, hitting the crossbar or going just wide every time.
That didn’t stop Spain from fighting for a second all throughout, a second they might be coming close to.
Aitana dribbled through the English midfield as if they were cones in her training drill, leaving each one for dead and proceeding to boot in your direction. You met her run, using your body to shield your goal as she curved to the left, in an attempt to foil you but you stood your ground. Hands behind your back, body perfectly positioned as you blocked her powerful cross that would’ve found Jenni, unmarked in the box had it not been for your body. The ball went out for a corner as you let out a small sigh of relief which didn’t last long as you moved to mark none other than your wife on the edge of the box.
“Hola bebita” alexia grinned, in an attempt to distract you
“Shut up Putellas” you countered, causing her to roll her eyes and laugh from behind you, where her body was flush against your back, albeit a little softer than usual. Likely due to the precious cargo you carried.
Mariona aligned herself at an angle with the corner flag, holding one arm in the air to signal the corner routine.
A split second later she struck her foot to release the ball, a ball heading in your direction. You jumped and full power, in an attempt to beat a most definitely taller Alexia to the ball. Alexia jumper almost in sync, mind set on nothing but ensuring the ball reached the back of the net. However, neither of you made it to the ball and Alexia’s head collided sharply with the back of your head, causing a wave of pain to wash over you and your whole body to crumple forwards due to the shock, Alexia landing half on top of you.
You screamed out in pain as everything went black.
“Y/N!” Screamed Mary as she watched blood drip from your head.
“MEDIC NOW!” Yelled Lucy as the medical staff came rushing over to your unconscious form.
Alexia rubbed her head in pain as she sprung up at the commotion, met with the sight of her wife bleeding on the floor. Her pregnant wife, hurt, because if her. Reality kicked in at that moment.
“No no no no mi amor.” She pleaded “Lo siento, lo siento” she beckoned as she crouched down, eyes wide in horror at the sight in front of her.
She felt an arm grip her shoulder and pull her back and was met with the faces of Chloe Kelly and Lauren James as they shoved her away, screaming abuse in her face.
You’d regained consciousness as this point as the medics shone a light in your face and began assessing the wound.
“She’s pregnant” Mary announced to the medics, as they nodded with a look of pure worry that elicited a sinking feeling in the stomachs of those present.
Your teammates huddled close by, with concern present on all of their faces. Alexia fought her way back through pleading to you.
“Go away Alexia” was all you could manage before you slipped back out of consciousness.
Alexia’s heart broke at the sight, you blamed her, you thought she’d done it on purpose, shock set into her body as she watched in horror as the medical team loaded you onto a stretcher and stretched you off to medical.
“¡Quiero ir con ella!” Alexia demanded towards Vilda who shook his head and began lecturing her in Spanish. She protested consistently but eventually agreed to play the final 10 minutes, out of fear of punishment, not to herself by the younger players, should she argue any further.
The final whistle felt like an eternity later. Alexia having done nothing but fight the urge to run off the pitch in the final 10 minutes. Spain had won the World Cup but Alexia had no desire to celebrate with her team, all she wanted was to run to her wife and ensure you and the baby were okay. She was stopped by a firm grip on her hands as Vilda shoved her in the direction of the team. She shoved him right back, a moment she knew would be plastered all over social media later. A problem that could wait for the future.
As she was stopped again, Alexia spotted her mother in the crowd and signalled for her to find you and her mother did so, barging past security and into the tunnel.
Alexia slipped past everyone, ignoring the beckoning of the Spanish staff and bolted into the tunnel, knowing that the media would tear her apart later, calling her “cocky” “overrated” and “ungrateful” for her obvious disinterest in the trophy and general celebration but she did not care. The only thing on her mind in that moment was her family. No medal, trophy or football game was more important that you or her child.
After a frantic search she located you, accompanied by your medical staff and her mother and sister.
“Mi Estella, lo siento mucho” she pleaded, tears welling in her eyes
“I know Ale you didn’t mean it” you mumbled weakly
“No of course not amor! Are you okay? El bebé? Is the baby okay?” She rambled, ignoring the look of pure shock on her mother and sister’s face.
“We’re running tests now, just prepping an ultra sound machine” informed one of the doctors, as he squirted a blue gel across the gentle curve of your stomach.
“I’m so sorry querida” tears were streaming now “I hurt you! I hurt our bebita” she spluttered cupping your face as you felt the doctor begin to move the probe over your stomach.
“Ale no it’s okay, i’m okay look” you gestured towards the ultrasound machine
A steady heart beat filled the room.
A grainy image of your baby filled the screen.
The baby was okay.
“Oh, gracias a Dios” her mother exclaimed, relieved at the health of her grandchild that she’d only learnt existed moments ago.
“YOU’RE PREGNANT?!” Yelled Alba
“Sí lo siento for not telling you both, I found out during the tournament, we’ve been trying for months” you smiled, tears in your eyes.
The ultrasound technician wiped the gel with a tissue before printing out several copies of the image.
Your wife was unbelievably silent, staring, mouth wide at the ultrasound.
“Alexia” you called
“Te quiero más que a nada” she breathed. “I’m so sorry mi amor, I’ve missed you so much” she placed a gentle kiss to your lips, squeezing your hands firmly with her sweaty ones, before she placed a second kiss to your bump.
“I’m so glad we’re together again mi vida” you replied with a smile, touching your foreheads together.
“I so hope it’s a girl so she can be alba junior!” Raved the younger Putellas sister
“ALBA!” Alexia and Eli retorted simultaneously.
~~~~~
Thank you so much for reading this series, please send any requests in my inbox and any feedback too i love you all <3
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Darkness and You | h.s
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summery: a late night drive takes an unexpected turn when an handsome stranger takes his place in your passenger seat.
wc: 5.3k || 🌕🌖🌗🌘 Masterlist 🌒🌓🌔🌕
WARNING ⚠️ sexual references, mention of unprotected sex. MINORS DNI! you’re responsible for your own consumption, don’t blame me later. It’s your own choice.
Posted on: November 25th, 2024
Tag-List: @fruity-harry @angeldavis777 || TAGLIST IS OPEN!
Surprise lovelies! The first part from serial-killer!Harry series is here and I really hope you enjoy it. 😌 let me know how was it and if you have any ideas for other parts, I just might post some more this week itself. this is my first ever try at writing 18+ stuff tho it’s not really much so I hope it didn’t suck🤭😳 REQUESTS ARE OPEN!
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You don’t do this. Any of this. You don’t pick up hitchhikers in the middle of the night. Especially men.
You’ve seen a lot of horror movies and you’ve heard a ton of news stories.
You’re not five. You know what you should and what you shouldn’t do. But you’ve made an array of bad choices tonight so why not continue it?
You don’t know what it was but something compelled you to pull over.
The boy with the curls and those deep green eyes, gets into the passenger seat, a grateful smile on his face. He looks sweet, to be honest.
“Oh, thank you so so much. I’ve been out here for so long. My car just gave out on me and there’s no signal in this shithole.” He says, his English accent very evident as he adjusts his seatbelt. “May I know my saviour’s name?” He asks with a smiles that shows a pair of dimples.
The air is thick with the quiet hum of the engine, and your fingers clench the steering wheel a little tighter than usual. You’re not sure if it’s the cold seeping into the car or the nervous energy building in your chest. Something about this feels surreal, like stepping into a scene you’d only watch from the safety of your couch. Yet, here you are, with a stranger in the passenger seat and an unspoken weight hanging between you.
“Uh, YN,” you reply, your voice more hesitant than you’d like. His accent catches you off guard again, so polished and charming it almost makes you forget the unease simmering below the surface. Almost.
“YN,” he repeats, letting your name roll off his tongue like he’s testing its sound. “That’s a lovely name. I’m Harry.”
Harry. It suits him somehow. Still, you can’t help but glance at him out of the corner of your eye. His curls are messy, probably from standing in the cold too long, and his coat looks worn, but there’s a warmth to him. Those green eyes, so striking, carry a sense of ease—like he’s the last person in the world you should be afraid of.
Still, you’re not stupid. Sweet smiles and dimples don’t guarantee safety.
“So… where are you headed?” you ask, trying to keep your tone neutral while silently calculating how far you are from the nearest gas station or town. Somewhere with people. Witnesses.
He exhales, the sound almost a laugh. “Honestly? Just anywhere away from here.” He runs a hand through his curls, shaking his head. “My car decided to betray me in the middle of nowhere. Tried to call for help, but of course, there’s no signal. Classic, right?”
You manage a small laugh, though it feels forced. Your instincts are at war—one side whispering that this guy is harmless, the other screaming at you for stopping in the first place.
“Well,” you say, trying to sound composed, “you got lucky I came by. Not a lot of cars out tonight.”
“Not a lot of kind people either,” Harry adds, his voice softer now. “I was starting to think I’d be out there all night.”
His words linger in the air, and for a moment, you feel a pang of guilt. Maybe he’s just another unlucky soul, stranded and hoping for a break. Maybe you’re overthinking this. Or maybe this is exactly how every cautionary tale starts.
“So, YN,” Harry says, breaking the silence again. His tone is light, conversational, as if this is the most normal thing in the world. “What’s a girl like you doing out here at this hour? Don’t tell me you’re running away from something, too.”
The question catches you off guard, and your grip on the wheel tightens. “No,” you reply quickly, a little too defensively. “Just… a long drive. Needed to clear my head.”
He hums in acknowledgment, not pushing further, and you feel a flicker of relief. He leans back in his seat, letting his head rest against the window. For a moment, you think he’s going to drift off, but then he glances at you again, his eyes almost piercing in their intensity.
“You’ve got this look,” he says, his voice quieter now. “Like you’re carrying the weight of the world.”
You don’t respond right away, unsure how to take that. “You’ve known me for all of five minutes,” you finally say, trying to deflect with a weak smile. “Bit of a bold assumption, don’t you think?”
He chuckles softly. “Maybe. But I’m pretty good at reading people.”
The car falls into a strange silence again, and you can feel his gaze shift back to the window. There’s something about him—something you can’t quite put your finger on. It’s not just the way he talks or the way he looks at you. It’s the way he feels out of place, like he belongs in a story that hasn’t been written yet.
And for reasons you can’t explain, you let yourself keep driving.
There was some reason he can’t take his eyes off of you, almost as if you’re a rare piece of art he couldn’t help but admire.
“You always pick up handsome strangers in the middle of the night?” He teases with a cheeky smirk on his features.
You glance over at him, briefly, before focusing back on the road. The way his smirk lingers, paired with those dimples, feels both disarming and maddeningly charming. “Not usually,” you reply, your tone even, though you’re acutely aware of his gaze on you. “Just the ones who look like they’ve had a rough night.”
He laughs at that, the sound soft and warm, filling the small space of the car. “Lucky me, then,” he says, his accent turning the words into something smoother, like they carry more weight than they should. “Although, I think the luck might be yours. How often do you get to share a car with a proper English gentleman?”
You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “English gentleman, huh? You sound like a guy who gives himself that title. Let me guess, you also drink tea at every opportunity and say ‘cheerio’ unironically?”
His hand flies to his chest in mock offense, and he lets out a dramatic gasp. “Cheerio? Absolutely not. What do you take me for, a walking British stereotype?”
“Maybe,” you shoot back, your tone playful now. “I mean, you did say your car ‘gave out,’ and who even says that anymore?”
He chuckles again, his head tilting slightly as he studies you. “Fair enough. But for the record, I’m more of a coffee guy. And I don’t say ‘cheerio.’” His smirk returns, softer this time, as he adds, “I think you might be the first person to question my gentleman status, though. Most people just take one look at me and assume I’m… irresistible.”
You snort, trying to stifle your laugh. “Irresistible? You really do think highly of yourself, don’t you?”
“Can you blame me?” he quips, his voice teasing but not cocky. His gaze lingers again, softer now, almost contemplative. “But I’m serious. You’ve got this… way about you. Like you’re completely unimpressed by people like me, and I can’t decide if it’s refreshing or terrifying.”
That catches you off guard, and you shift in your seat, the smile slipping from your face just a little. “People like you?”
He shrugs, the smirk still lingering but now tinged with something deeper. “You know, the ones who talk too much, crack jokes, try to charm their way through life. The ones who should be lucky just to share the same space as someone like you.”
Your stomach flips at his words, a mix of unease and flattery you’re not quite sure how to handle. You keep your eyes on the road, focusing on the distant glow of headlights in the distance. “You’ve got a lot of opinions for someone who just met me.”
“Maybe,” he admits, leaning back in his seat and letting his gaze wander out the window. “But you can tell a lot about someone in five minutes. Like how you’ve got this look in your eyes, like you’re constantly bracing for something to go wrong.”
You freeze for just a moment, his words hitting closer to home than you’d like. “You’re imagining things,” you say quickly, brushing it off with a casualness you don’t really feel.
“Maybe I am,” he replies, his voice low and calm, like he doesn’t quite believe you but won’t push. After a moment, he adds, almost to himself, “But for some reason, I can’t stop looking at you. It’s like… you’re a puzzle, and I can’t figure out the edges.”
You don’t know what to say to that, so you settle for silence, the tension in the car shifting to something strange and unspoken. Outside, the road stretches endlessly ahead, the darkness pressing in on both sides. And for the first time since picking him up, you wonder if you’re the one being read, the layers of your carefully built armor peeling away under the weight of those deep green eyes.
Harry leans back in his seat, one hand resting casually on his knee as he studies you. His gaze, though soft, feels weighted—like he’s trying to peel back layers you didn’t even know you were wearing. After a beat of silence, he speaks, his voice low and curious.
“Can I ask you something, YN?” he says, his tone gentle, almost disarming.
You glance at him briefly before focusing back on the road. “Sure,” you reply, though the way he says your name sends a faint chill up your spine.
“Aren’t you scared?” he asks, tilting his head slightly. “Picking up a male stranger in the middle of the night? Alone? I mean, you said it yourself—this isn’t exactly normal behavior.”
You bite the inside of your cheek, his words triggering the voice of reason that’s been screaming at you ever since you stopped the car. Your fingers tighten on the steering wheel, and you force a small laugh. “A little,” you admit, though your voice wavers slightly. “But you don’t seem like the scary type.”
Harry’s lips curl into a smile, one that’s almost too perfect—dimples and all. “Well, I promise you, I’m not some sort of serial killer,” he says lightly, his tone almost playful. “Scout’s honor.”
Something about his phrasing makes you laugh, and the tension in your chest eases—if only slightly. “Isn’t that exactly what all serial killers say in the movies?” you tease, glancing at him briefly with a raised brow.
Harry’s smile widens, but there’s a flicker of something behind his eyes—a shadow of a thought you can’t quite catch. “Touché,” he says, leaning forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. His gaze never leaves you, as though he’s memorizing every detail of your face. “I suppose it would be the perfect cover, wouldn’t it? A smile, a little charm… make yourself seem harmless enough, and no one suspects a thing.”
The way he says it sends a ripple of unease through you, and the playful smirk he wears only deepens the strange knot in your stomach. You force yourself to stay calm, trying to brush it off. “That’s… a little creepy, don’t you think?” you reply, half-joking.
Harry chuckles softly, the sound low and almost hypnotic. “Maybe. But if I were a killer, wouldn’t I have already done something by now? You’ve got me here, alone, no witnesses. Seems like the perfect opportunity, doesn’t it?”
Your heart skips a beat, and your hands grip the wheel tighter, your knuckles whitening. His voice is still light, teasing, but there’s an undercurrent to his words that you can’t quite place. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, trying to gauge whether he’s just messing with you or if there’s something darker lurking beneath the surface.
“And yet,” he continues, his tone softening again, “here I am, just a guy stranded on the side of the road, grateful for the kindness of a beautiful stranger.”
Your throat feels dry as you swallow hard, forcing yourself to respond. “Well, for your sake—and mine—I hope you’re telling the truth.”
He lets out another soft laugh, leaning back against the seat again. “Of course I am,” he says smoothly. But there’s something about the way he says it—like he knows more than he’s letting on. Like he’s enjoying this moment a little too much.
The road stretches on in front of you, the darkness pressing in from all sides, and for the first time, you start to wonder if stopping for Harry was the worst decision you’ve ever made. Because while his smile is charming and his voice is calm, there’s something about him that feels off. Like the quiet before a storm.
Harry shifts in his seat, his gaze flicking to you every so often, like he’s studying the curve of your profile, the way your fingers tap the wheel, the faint crease in your brow as you concentrate on the dark road ahead. The hum of the engine and the soft patter of the tires on asphalt are the only sounds filling the car now, a strange kind of peace settling between you two.
“How far’s the city?” he asks casually, breaking the quiet, his voice smooth and easy, though there’s a strange undertone to it—like he already knows the answer but wants to hear you say it.
You glance at the dashboard clock before replying, “Probably around three hours. Give or take.”
Harry lets out a soft hum, leaning back in his seat, his head tilting toward you as though drawn by some invisible force. Three hours. Three uninterrupted hours with you. It’s enough to make his heart race.
He lets the silence return, but his thoughts are anything but quiet. His mind is a storm of emotions and desires—chaotic, consuming, and entirely focused on you. There’s something about you that’s different. It’s not just the way you look, though your beauty feels like something out of a dream. It’s the way you hold yourself, the sharpness in your wit, the vulnerability you try to mask but can’t fully hide. You’re magnetic in a way he can’t explain, and the more he sits beside you, the deeper his obsession grows.
He watches the soft glow of the dashboard lights reflect off your face, highlighting your cheekbones and the curve of your jaw. He wonders what it would feel like to trace that line with his fingers. To know the softness of your skin. To see you look at him not with the occasional suspicion that flashes in your eyes but with trust. Admiration. Love.
His thoughts spiral, wild and untamed, as his gaze lingers on you. What would it take for you to see him the way he already sees you? Would you ever understand how special you are? How perfect this moment is? You were meant to find him tonight—he’s sure of it. The universe wouldn’t have aligned so perfectly otherwise.
His fingers twitch, his desire to reach out, to touch you, almost overwhelming. But no, not yet. He has time. Three hours to savor this moment, to bask in the glow of your presence, to solidify the bond he’s convinced you’re destined to share.
You’re unaware of the storm raging in his mind, the way his chest tightens with every glance at you. You think the silence is peaceful, and in a way, it is—for you. For Harry, it’s intoxicating. Maddening.
He forces himself to take a steady breath, his fingers curling into his palms as he tries to calm the fire within him. He doesn’t want to scare you, not yet. You’re like a delicate thread, and if he pulls too hard, you might snap.
So, he keeps his voice soft, his demeanor calm, though his thoughts are anything but. He smiles to himself, a small, secret smile, as he stares out the window at the endless darkness. You have no idea, he thinks, how utterly and completely you’ve captured him.
And he plans to make sure you never get away.
As the silence stretches between you, Harry's mind spirals further into chaos. He shifts again in his seat, the seatbelt digging into his chest as his thoughts race uncontrollably. His green eyes flicker to the rearview mirror and then to the empty backseat, a dark thought taking hold of him. It's ridiculous, he knows, but the image is vivid, almost too vivid to push away-the two of you tangled together in the small space, your back arching against the leather as his hands grip your hips, holding you in place.
The idea sends a heat rushing through him, and he clenches his jaw, forcing his gaze back to the road ahead. But it's no use. His thoughts keep circling back, no matter how hard he tries to distract himself. The way your lips curve as you speak, the soft rise and fall of your chest as you breathe, the faint scent of your perfume that fills the car—it's driving him mad. You're so close, yet just out of reach, and it's enough to make him want to explode.
He imagines it so clearly: the way you'd look beneath him, your head thrown back, your lips parted in a gasp as he claims you. The sound of his name spilling from your mouth, a mix of moans and screams that would echo in his ears forever. The thought of marking you, leaving his fingerprints, his bruises, his everything on you-it consumes him. He wants you to be his, entirely his, in every possible way. To make sure no one else could ever have you, touch you, or even think of you the way he does.
His breathing becomes shallow as the lust builds inside him, threatening to take over. His hands clench into fists in his lap, his nails digging into his palms as he fights to regain control. Not yet, he tells himself. Not yet. You're driving, unaware of the wildfire burning inside him, and the last thing he wants is to ruin this perfect moment.
But his eyes betray him, flicking back to the rearview mirror, imagining again how easy it would be. The backseat seems like it was made for this-for you. He could pull you back there, coax you into his arms, and let his hands explore every inch of you. He'd take his time, memorizing the feel of your skin, the way your body reacts to his touch. You'd look so beautiful, so utterly perfect, with your cheeks flushed and your voice breaking as you beg for more.
Harry exhales sharply, trying to shake the thoughts from his mind. He turns his head slightly, stealing another glance at you, and it only makes things worse. The way your lips press together in concentration as you drive, the way your fingers drum softly against the steering wheel-it's enough to make him want to lose control.
He shifts again, trying to adjust himself discreetly, the tension in his body almost unbearable now. His lustful thoughts are a storm, loud and demanding, drowning out every ounce of reason he has left. He's trying to distract himself, to think of anything else, but it's no use. Every thought keeps looping back to you-your voice, your scent, your body, your everything.
You glance at him briefly, catching the flicker of something dark and unspoken in his eyes, but you brush it off as nothing. To you, he's still the stranded, grateful stranger, polite and charming, sitting quietly beside you.
But Harry's chest tightens as he fights the urge to act on the consuming need inside him. His teeth graze his bottom lip, his mind racing. He's never felt like this before— this overwhelming obsession, this uncontrollable desire. And it terrifies him. But it also excites him, in a way he can't even begin to describe.
For now, he forces himself to stay still, to keep his hands in his lap and his voice calm. But his thoughts? His thoughts are far from calm. They're filled with you, with every possible way he wants to have you. And the longer he sits beside you, the harder it becomes to stop himself from making you his. Completely, utterly, and irrevocably his.
Harry’s voice cuts through the silence, a casual curiosity in his tone that makes you glance at him briefly. “You don’t have a boyfriend yet, do you?”
You raise an eyebrow, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected question. You keep your eyes on the road, trying to process his words. “How did you know?” you ask, voice light, though you can’t quite place the reason why it feels like an oddly personal question.
Harry shrugs slightly, a devil-may-care smile curling on his lips. “Just a guess,” he says nonchalantly. “No man in his right mind would let a gorgeous girl like you be alone at night for this long. Either that or you’ve got a terrible taste in men.”
His words hit you with an unexpected warmth. You laugh, a soft chuckle escaping your lips, trying to hide the flutter of something that rises in your chest. It feels like he’s teasing you, and yet there’s a charm in his tone, something alluring and carefree that makes it hard not to feel a little… flattered.
“Terrible taste, huh?” you reply, half-joking, your eyes flickering back to him. “Well, maybe I’ve just been too picky.”
Harry’s smirk deepens, a glint of mischief dancing in his green eyes. He leans forward slightly, his voice low, as if sharing a secret. “Maybe I can be your new boyfriend,” he suggests, his tone playful but with a teasing undertone that makes your pulse quicken. “Save you from your bad taste?”
You laugh again, this time more freely, the sound light and natural. “Oh really?” you reply, shaking your head with a mock skeptical smile. “You think you could do a better job?”
Harry’s gaze flickers to you, a knowing glint in his eyes, as if he’s sure he’s exactly what you need, even though you’re not quite sure how to respond. “I mean,” he says, his smile widening, “you wouldn’t know until you tried, would you?”
The playful banter between the two of you continues, the tension that had briefly been present starting to dissipate, replaced by a light-hearted connection that feels easy and natural. But beneath the surface of the conversation, Harry’s thoughts still swirl with that same obsessive desire. He’s enjoying the game, enjoying the way you laugh, the way your eyes twinkle when you tease him back. But deep down, he’s already picturing what it would look like if he were your boyfriend. How it would feel to have you close, to make you his—completely, entirely, and without question.
For now, though, he lets the teasing continue, enjoying the playfulness between you, and the undeniable pull he feels toward you. But he knows, deep down, that this is only the beginning. This is just the start of what’s to come. And he’s more than willing to wait for the moment when you’ll be his.
Harry’s smirk widens as you teasingly reply, “Maybe.” He can’t help it; his pulse quickens at your words. He’s always been good at reading people, but with you, everything feels like an exciting game—one he’s eager to win.
He leans in a little, his arm stretching out to rest on the console between you, positioning himself closer. His breath hitches slightly as he catches the scent of your perfume again, the warmth of your presence filling the car. He’s trying to remain casual, but he can’t help it; his thoughts are moving too fast, pulling him deeper into the haze of attraction.
“Give me some hope at least, moon flower,” he says, his voice softer now, almost intimate. “Let me know I’ve got a shot.”
His eyes never leave you as he waits for your response, and when you tease him back, saying, “Okay, you do. You have a shot at it,” Harry’s grin stretches across his face, almost too excited for his own good. It’s as if he’s won something. Something he can’t quite put into words yet, but it feels like a step toward getting closer to you.
He sits up straighter, a surge of confidence overtaking him. His gaze moves over your figure with a deliberation that makes your stomach flutter. The way his eyes drink in the details of your face, your body, makes you feel… noticed. Seen.
“That’s one hell of a boost for my ego,” Harry says, his voice dripping with a mix of playful arrogance and genuine admiration. “I’ve got a chance with the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”
The words hang in the air for a moment, and you can feel the intensity of his gaze. It’s flattering, but there’s something else in his look—something deeper, something more consuming than mere compliments. It’s as if he’s claiming you in some unspoken way. His eyes linger a little too long, and though he’s trying to be playful, there’s a certain hunger there that catches you off guard.
A part of you wants to laugh it off, but another part of you… well, another part of you can’t quite deny the effect his words have on you. The way his confidence oozes, the way he seems to have you completely captivated even when he’s just speaking casually.
You force your gaze back to the road, but the tension between you both feels different now. It’s charged, electric—filled with unspoken possibilities. Harry, however, doesn’t let up. His eyes keep studying you, as if trying to decipher every little detail about you. His lips curl into a smile that’s both triumphant and knowing.
The atmosphere in the car shifts. The lightness of the teasing still hangs in the air, but there’s a deeper layer now—one that feels almost like a promise. Harry’s made it clear: he’s not here for just a simple ride. He’s here to win your attention, your affection, to make sure you know exactly how much he wants you. And as he watches you, he knows he’s already made his mark on you in some way, whether you realize it yet or not.
The air between you thickens, charged with the energy of his words. Harry's voice lowers, almost like a secret. "This might sound crazy since I hardly know you," he says, his gaze flickering from your face to your lips, then back to your eyes. "But I really, really want to kiss you."
The intensity of his gaze, the weight of his words, sends a rush of heat to your chest.
Your heart skips a beat, then races faster than before. You know it's reckless, impulsive, but it's as if something deep inside you is responding to him, telling you to act, to do something. But before you can process the surge of emotions, your foot slams down on the brake pedal without warning.
Harry's eyes widen, his body thrown forward by the sudden stop. His hands instinctively grip the console as he stumbles against the force of the car halting.
"Jesus!" he exclaims, his voice laced with shock, his pulse spiking.
You breathe shakily, your hands still gripping the steering wheel as the car finally comes to a stop. The silence in the car is thick with anticipation. Harry's heart is racing, not just from the sudden stop, but from the way you're looking at him now-there's something different in your eyes. Something that mirrors the craving he's been feeling.
When the shock of the stop wears off, Harry turns to you, his breath coming in quick bursts. His chest rises and falls rapidly as he stares at you.
"Why the hell did you stop the car like that, love?" he asks, his voice rough, his brows furrowed in both confusion and curiosity.
Your eyes lock with his, and something shifts. The walls you'd both been playing behind-teasing, joking-begin to crumble. His question hangs in the air between you like a challenge. But then, without saying another word, you lean toward him. A glint of something darker passes over your face.
"Because I wanted to do this," you whisper, and without waiting for any further hesitation, your lips crash into his.
The kiss is immediate and intense, born out of the tension that's been building ever since he first got into the car. His lips are soft but urgent, pulling you closer. There's no room for uncertainty anymore; only the heat of the moment, the heat of his body pressing against yours, the heat of desire crackling between you both.
Harry responds eagerly, his hand reaching to cup your jaw, fingers threading into your hair as he deepens the kiss, his lips moving hungrily against yours. The taste of him is intoxicating, sending a pulse of warmth straight to your core. His kiss is fierce, as if he's been waiting for this moment just as much as you. His tongue brushes against yours, a soft, tantalizing pressure that makes you lose yourself in the sensation.
For a brief moment, nothing else matters-the world outside the car, the consequences, the lingering doubt. All of it fades away as you both succumb to the pull of each other, driven by something stronger than logic or reason. The kiss feels like a release, the pent-up tension from the entire ride coming to fruition in one passionate, desperate embrace.
When you finally break away, your breaths are ragged, both of you still close, your foreheads resting against each other. Your pulse is wild, your heart pounding in your chest, and you can't help but smile at the way he looks at you now-his eyes dark with desire, filled with a hunger that matches your own.
Harry grins, a satisfied, almost predatory look crossing his face. "Well... I guess I got what I wanted," he murmurs, his lips barely brushing against yours as he speaks.
But you know this isn't over. The tension between you both is only just beginning, and neither of you can walk away from it now.
“God, you’re so hot,” Harry mutters against your lips, the hand not on your face sneaking down to your thigh, his fingers gently squeezing the flesh through your jeans. He’s getting drunk on you, addicted to the feeling of your lips on his. He’s never before felt this way, it’s like something in him has snapped in half, the primal and possessive side of him awakening. He doesn’t want to let you go.
The kiss gets more heated, the sweet gestures replaced by desperate and hungry ones. Harry’s fingers dig into your thigh almost possessively, his head tilting to deepen the kiss even more.
His tongue runs over your lower lip, begging for entrance.
As soon as you grant him access his tongue immediately pushes inside your mouth, exploring every inch of your wet cavern hungrily. It’s as if he wants to devour you. His hand moves up from your thigh to your waist, pulling you closer, trying to get the most possible body contact.
“You’re driving me insane, princess…” Harry mumbles against your lips, one hand now gently gripping your chin, holding you in place. He’s practically addicted to the way your mouth feels on his, you’ve unleashed something primal in him, something he has trouble controlling.
“Your car is like.. a perfect spot for this, love,” Harry comments, his lips moving off of yours, down to your jawline. He begins kissing the skin there as he speaks, “Plenty of space… dark, private… you should park somewhere. I bet your backseats are really comfortable.”
There was no denying that he get want he wants and you’re now his… and this is just the beginning
#harry styles#harry edward styles#one direction#harry styles x reader#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles story#minors dni#minors do not interact#harry styles fiction#harry styles writing#harry styles imagine#harry styles oneshot#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfic#harry styles au#harryssyndrome#harry styles fan fiction#harry styles imagines
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boyfriend!yuta headcanons
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a/n: i have been having major yuta brainrot as of late ,, here u guys go ! i hope these are too badly ooc seeing as though I’ve only written for him a couple times ! they’re a bit all over the place so plz lmk what y’all think :3
wordcount: 1,183
masterlist
first things first this boy is an absolute nervous wreck anytime he’s around you before he asks you out, I’m talking stuttering and fumbling over his words, looking anywhere but you, trying his best to not embarrass himself (he inevitably does poor guy)
asks you out when it’s just the two of you, on a picnic or watching a movie, his palms are sweaty because what if he just hallucinated you saying you liked him back and this is a big mistake??
okok this boy would definitely wear those ‘i love my s/o’ shirts, starts off as a joke, then wears it unironically because yeah, he does love you, what about it??
the biggest simp in the world yall, does anything you want him to, buys you whatever you want whenever you want it, you tell him jump he’s asking how high while already jumping
it’s a serious problem, considering you now have to make it clear that just because you say something is nice doesn’t mean you want it
“this sweater is nice right yuu?” “yeah it is really nice” ,,,, “yuta why do you have two bags?” “i got you the sweater in every color you like :3”
you’re always getting packages at your door, handing them to him only for him to say ‘oh that’s actually for you!’
the worst part of this is he absolutely hates when you get him something, always telling you to spend your money on yourself or save it, saying he has everything he needs already
still accepts your gifts with open arms, over the moon because ‘you really thought of me ?? i love you :(‘ he literally is ‘🥺’ if it was a person
calls you every sweet nickname he can think of: baby, babe, sweetheart, darling, my love, honey (he tends to favor my love and darling)
you tend to call him things like: baby, lover, pretty boy, angel
he turns into an absolute blushing mess when you call him pretty boy and angel, giggling and trying to not forget what he was talking to you about in the first place
the kind of boyfriend who will buy you flowers weekly, no matter what.
ever since he overheard you on the phone talking about how much you loved his ‘just because’ flowers, he made it a reoccurring purchase at a local flower shop
gets you all your favorite snacks when he just so happens to stop by at a convenience store, handing them to you with a happy grin, ‘we can have movie night with snacks now!’
has your coffee order memorized before you guys even started dating, rarely asks if you want some, usually just surprises you with it <3
he is such a homebody boyfriend :( prefers calm and cozy nights in sipping on hot chocolate cuddles in warm blankets over going out
takes you out to nice restaurants though !! especially if you like going out, he’ll take you on all kinds of dates
goes ice skating, amusement parks, the fair, laser tag (you destroyed him), escape rooms, literally everything
at restaurants if you’re between two things to order he’ll get one of the ones you want so you get try both :3
if you don’t like what you ordered he’ll swap with you / will tell you to order something different, saying he’ll take the other plate home and eat it tomorrow so you don’t feel bad abt it <3
LOVES going grocery shopping with you </3 finds it so domestic and lovely to be able to pick you celery with you (he also gets excited when you ask him what he wants to eat so you can get the stuff for it)
he’ll always tell you he wants to bake cookies and other treats with you, grabbing all the ingredients and grinning at you sheepishly when the cart starts to get full
“we came here for four things, how did you manage to make me get all these things” “cause you love me” he giggles
giggles at everything you say !!!!! topples over laughing when you tell a joke (we get it bro you love us 😭)
it’s so easy to make him blush and flustered, literally just winking at him makes his brain short circuit (let’s not get started on when you two make out) (he whimpers 🤭)
has pictures of you as his lockscreen, always smiles a bit when he unlocks his phone, when he’s away on missions he finds himself checking the time more often than he really needs to
AMAZING TEXTER !!!!! will reply to you very quickly and address all your messages and reacts to all the things you send him (everyone is amazed because is this the same yuta who left them on deliver red for three days before replying ??)
he is SO the jealous type ,, he tries not to be, really he hates having negative emotions of any kind, but he can’t help it :(
his entire demeanor changed drastically when someone starts flirting with you, he’s standing up straighter, clenching his jaw and has that threatening look on his face, no sign of the once cheerful and bubbly boy
he’s wrapping an arm around you, tugging on your hand and trying to get you alone so he can make out with you and remind both you and himself that you’re only his <33
insanely protective of you !!! he’ll be holding your hand in public, always making sure he knows where you are, in crowded areas he has one hand on your waist to help you through the crowds <33
will obliterate anyone who even tries to threaten you, ‘look at them again and you’ll be wishing i had killed you’ but in a not creepy and actually very 🦋way yk ?
really listens to you and everything you have to say, asking questions about your interests and genuinely loves listening to you talk about the things you like <3
i know he gets u literally everything but he gives you amazing and thoughtful gifts for special occasions !! he manages to always get you perfect gifts every single time <3
he compliments you everyday without fail, no matter where he is in the world, he will ALWAYS tell you how stunning you look !!!
reminds you everyday how much he loves you, telling you and leaving you little notes, writes you love letters like he’s away at war even though he’s most likely to get back before the letter even ships
cooks you dinner when he has the chance (he’s actually a pretty good cook!!) going all the way with wine (if you drink of course) and roses
uses your shampoo and conditioner sometimes because he just loves the way they smell and they remind him so much of u hehe
has your skincare routine memorized to when you’re too exhausted to do it he can do it for you <3
he’s overall just a soft and sweet lover, doing anything and everything he can for you because he knows you’re the one for him <33
taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags
#okkotsu yuta x reader#okkotsu yuta fluff#okkotsu yuta headcanons#yuuta okkotsu x reader#yuta okkotsu x reader#okkotsu yuuta x reader#okkotsu yuta x you#yuta okkotsu x you#yuta okkotsu x reader fluff#yuta okkotsu fluff#yuuta okkotsu fluff#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen headcanons
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headcannons ⮕ c.s.
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a/n: i lowkey hate this LMAOOOOO but it’s okay. these are kinda chris x shy reader, chris in the talking stage, and dating chris all mixed in together, but only bc i have no idea what i’m doing and i tried my best PFFFFT. thank you to @rainsoakedphoenix for the idea, and the lovely anon in my inbox telling me they were excited to read them 😭 i hope i did hc justice, bc i genuinely have no idea how to do them LMAOO
❥ chris would be such a bad texter while you were talking. like, he’d keep the conversation going and always respond, but he wouldn’t ever know what to say until he felt the most at ease with you. his replies would still be dry as HELL, but he’d at least put the effort in bc he liked you lmaoo
❥ he’d notice IMMEDIATELY that you were extremely shy. he’d clock that shit so fast, and it’d become a joke between the two of you, before and after you were official.
❥ he would constantly be touching you, whether his hands were holding yours, his hand was on your lower back, his arm around your shoulders, etc. dude’s love language is TOUCH for sure.
❥ dude would constantly use your shyness against you, but never in a bad way ! he’d for sure hold eye contact with you just to make you blush, and tease you mercilessly about it until the two of you were cackling messes.
❥ as much as he said he’d call his girlfriend by her name, he’d be dropping pet names like it was NO ONE’S business
❥ “baby, will you grab that for me ?” “i didn’t mean it like that, sweetheart.” “there’s my girl.”
❥ constantly telling you to look at him when you were talking, just to tease you for being so flustered by him.
❥ “baby, look at me. i need you to look at me when you talk.”
❥ “are you blushing ? damn, i’m that good, huh ?”
❥ only referring to you as “my girl” around other people, just to see your reaction (you never get used to it, and he loves it)
❥ “oh yeah, my girl loves that movie.” “sorry, i have plans with my girl.”
❥ as much as he teased you, he never crossed any boundaries. the moment he noticed you were not having fun anymore, he’d shut it down and the two of you would leave
❥ always answering for you when you weren’t used to the person asking questions just yet, but you never minded
❥ you’d definitely tell him you loved him first, and then it’d be HIS turn to be flustered.
❥ “what did you say ? no, say it again.”
❥ dude would be an absolute bewildered mess, stuttering over his words and not being able to look at you until he calmed down.
❥ “you love me ?”
❥ he’d then just tackle you onto the couch and pepper kisses all over your face, relishing in the fact that your cheeks were heating up and you were giggling hysterically under him.
❥ remember how i said he would always be touching you ? that shit would double when you were out in public. whether it was a party, a premiere, a grocery store, etc. it was mostly a comfort thing, never letting go of you so you knew he was there. he of course noticed how antsy you got, which was just a perk for him.
❥ constantly making a fool of himself in public when you’re with him, just to see if he can get you out of your shell
❥ he’s actually shocked at how goofy you are when you’re around him, and as much as he acts hard, he’s so obsessed with the fact that you’re 100% comfortable with him
❥ a huge “let me see” guy when you tell him you bought something new, and then a “no, on you” when you only send him a picture of the outfit
❥ forehead kisses for daysssss
❥ dude kisses your nose more than he kisses your lips, but relishes in your pout before pecking you on the lips
❥ movie nights constantly, especially when your social battery is low
❥ “get over here” and holds out his arms i’m weak
❥ hugs you from behind every time you turn around, even when he just hugged you from the front. dude just likes resting his chin on your shoulder and seeing what you’re doing, but heaven forbid he ever lets go of you
tags: @strniolo , @toyourloves , @ssturniolo , @jellybeanbby , @thetriplets3 , @mxriverse , @stvrni0lo , @gabbylovesreading , @dwntwn-strnlo , @tylerscreat0r , @lvrsparadise , @angelcake-222 , @20nugs , @obsessivencrazy , @lollibumblebee , @stargirlv0id , @idontexistman , @emssturniolo
#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo#the sturniolos#the sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo blurb#chris sturniolo fic#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo headcanon
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