#i know it can't all be broken down from this this movie but literally word for word damn

[scienceisfood]

At the root of my problems.

[mattsmunch]

── 𖦹 !　TICKLISH?

chris sturniolo x fem!reader.

SUMMARY: who knew a conversation about tickling would lead to this?

CONTENTS: SMUT! with small plot, established! friendship, dom!chris x sub!reader, pet names are used (ma,baby, angel, i think that’s all?), unprotected p n v (no bueno), a TEENY bit of fluff, + more…

WC: 5.6k

REQUEST: open <3

AUTHORS NOTE: THIS IS AN ORIGINAL STORYLINE. i DONT allow any copying, "inspiration" or plagiarism. a smidge new to writing smut so BARE W ME YALL! let me unleash my freak. NOT PROOF READ, ignore any typos pls n thx

“you’re a liar”

“i’m not i swear! im literally not ticklish” you snort,

"you’re definitely a liar," chris accuses again, seeing you snort and grab the remote from him. he takes the moment to dig his fingers into your side, searching for a reaction. your lips part in a small gasp, your face holding a stoic expression that contrasts with his surprised expression. his hands and jaw drop as you readjust on the bed, hitting play on the movie without a word.

“there’s no way, you’ve gotta be ticklish somewhere” chris throws your blanket off your lap, revealing your feet, and begins trying to tickle your toes through your socks. you shake your head with a smile, trying to hold back laughter.

chris exclaims, "it’s the socks!" while reaching for the hem of your ankle sock, but you quickly pull your leg away, denying him access.

you push chris's hands away every time he grabs your ankles, cackling as you do so. despite the effort to remain nonchalant, your body responds, the skin under his touch turning hot.

"you're not touching my bare feet, idiot! that’s disgusting," you tease, trying to play it cool.

“c’mon! you know you’re gonna laugh that’s why” chris giggles, a large grin on his face, as he playfully grapples with you over your feet. despite your protests, he uses his body weight to pin down your legs, resulting in squeals and pleas not to touch your bare feet.

as he disregards your objections, you let out a noise that is a mix between a groan and a giggle, your attempts to resist in vain.

chris swiftly removes your sock and tickles the sole of your foot with his fingers, prompting you to snort and playfully smack his back in protest.

"okay, well, you're broken!" he laughs, sitting back and resting against the headboard next to you. you put your sock back on and shake your head as you giggle.

chris's smile grows wider in response to your laughter, a sound he has yet to tire of even after 8 years of friendship.

you shrug as you reach for the bowl of popcorn and munch on a few pieces, your eyes fixed on the television in front of you.

“i mean, maybe,” you continue speaking, “you could literally touch me anywhere, and you still wouldn't get a reaction.”

chris remains still beside you, silently studying your figure. his gaze wanders down to your bare thighs peeking out from under his large hoodie, one that you’ve been wearing for so many years that it practically belongs to you now.

however, something about the sight of you in his clothes and in his bed, along with your words, causes his heart to thump a little too quickly for comfort.

Chris clears his throat and shakes his head slightly, trying to rid himself of the thoughts racing through his mind. He reaches for the popcorn in your lap, but you swiftly withdraw the bowl and smack his hand.

"no way!" you exclaim, feigning disgust, "you just touched my feet with those hands! go wash them first!"

as chris rolls his eyes playfully and gets up to head to the bathroom, you can't help but notice how your heart starts to flutter louder than before. despite yourself, the sight of his small smile makes your pulse quicken even more.

he disappears momentarily into the bathroom, the sound of the water running echoes from within, as he washes his hands. you remain on the bed, still struggling to compose yourself.

chris exits the bathroom with an exaggerated slowness, his hands covered in soap bubbles. he rubs them together aggressively, his eyebrows slightly furrowed in a determined expression, and locks eyes with you. the silence in the air is almost palpable as he stands there awkwardly.

“what are you doing?” you question

chris looks at you, and his tongue quickly darts out to moisten his lips.

"i’m washing my hands," he responds, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

you raise an eyebrow and look at him skeptically. "yea, but why are you doing it outside the bathroom?" you ask, still questioning his actions.

chris looks down at his hands, then back up to the television, and finally back down to you. he shrugs sheepishly before hastily retreating back into the bathroom, the sound of the door shutting behind him.

you remain there for a moment, slightly confused by his behavior, but eventually turn your focus back to the movie playing on the screen.

after a few minutes, chris reemerges, wiping his hands against the front of his shirt, and slips back into the bed next to you.

you silently move the popcorn bowl between the both of you, and he grabs a handful and shovels it into his mouth. for a few moments, silence hangs in the air as you both continue to watch the movie without a word.

then, slowly, chris breaks the silence, speaking up to you.

“hey,” he begins, grabbing your attention. you turn your head towards him, waiting for him to continue.

chris turns to face you, hesitating for a moment before continuing, “can i ask you something?”

you turn to face him, a look of confusion on your features as you try to understand what he's talking about. it only takes a moment before realization dawns on you, as you recall the conversation about the discussion about ticklish spots.

"you mean...about the tickling thing?" you respond, wanting to confirm your suspicions. he nods, confirming your thought, "yeah," he responds, a hint of seriousness in his voice.

you turn back to him, still not quite sure where he's going with this. "what do you mean? i just meant i’m not...ticklish like you are," you shrug, feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze.

“what are you looking at?” your question, his attention snaps back to the present as you speak, his cheeks flushing with a hint of embarrassment. for a few moments, the only sound comes from the movie playing in the background.

finally, he breaks the silence, his words coming out hesitantly.

“can…can i try something?” he mumbles softly, his eyes tracing your facial features slowly.

“uhm..sure?” you respond, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as chris slowly scoots closer to you.

“just…just don’t- don’t freak out ‘kay?” he sighs softly, placing a hand on your cheek as you nod.

as chris brushes his nose against yours, your eyebrows scrunch together in momentary confusion. but before you can process what's happening, his tongue slips out to moisten his lips, and his eyelids flutter closed and his lips pressed against yours.

your body tenses instinctively, but the soft caress of his thumb against your cheek instantly soothes you, and you can feel yourself melting into his lips.

the kiss is tender and unhurried, both of you moving delicately, as if any sudden move could shatter the fragile moment.

what started as a soft, gentle kiss gradually transforms into something much more intense. your tongue brushes against his lips, a silent request that is swiftly granted, and the pace picks up rapidly. your breathing quickens as your hands move to tangle themselves in his messy curls.

the kiss devolves into a messy dance of teeth and tongue, each battling for dominance, neither willing to back down.

chris groans, and his grip on your cheek shifts to your neck, gently squeezing while pulling you closer against him.

you break away from the kiss, gasping for air as you try to regain control of your breathing. the sensation of his hot breath on your skin has your head spinning. slowly, he lowers his head, tilting your chin up to expose more of your neck, and begins trailing a path of soft kisses down its length.

his lips travel down the smooth expanse of your skin, and he sucks gently, marking your flesh with small love bites that will no doubts be fun to explain later. as he reaches just below your ear, his tongue softly laps at your skin. a light moan escapes your lips, and your thighs involuntarily clench together, doing little to ease the aching need between them.

chris chuckles gently against your neck, planting a final soft peck before whispering into your ear, his voice low and sultry.

“that tickles ma?” he murmurs, his breath ghosting over your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. his voice is soft but authoritative at the same time, a hint of amusement in his tone as he feels your thighs clamp together against him.

you can practically feel the smugness radiating off him, knowing perfectly well that he's the one causing this reaction in you.

"tell me y/n," chris murmurs, his breath hot against your earlobe as his lips graze the sensitive skin. your body responds instinctively, a needy whimper escaping your parted lips. the growing hardness beneath his sweatpants presses insistently against your thigh, evidence of his desire.

chris's groan vibrates against your mouth when he captures your lips in a searing kiss. his hands find your hips, fingers digging in possessively as he effortlessly flips you onto your back, never breaking the intimate connection. your legs automatically wrap around his waist, pulling him closer.

the sudden shift has you straddling chris's torso, your cunt pressing firmly against the rigid plane of his chest. he groans, the arousal between your legs immediately soaking through the thin fabric of his t shirt.

"fucking hell!" chris grits out, his cock now fully harden, creating a noticeable bulge in his sweatpants. you hastily reposition yourself, aligning your dripping cunt directly over his throbbing cock. both of you let out guttural moans as you begin to undulate your hips, rubbing your aching clit against his hardness.

"fuck, chris—" you whine into his neck, your lips sucking hickeys onto his neck. chris tosses his head back, eyes rolling shut as he grips your hips tightly, guiding your movements with increasing urgency. the friction builds with every roll of your pelvis. low moans fall between his soft, slightly puffy lips, the combination of your lips sucking all sorts of different sized hickeys along his neck and the way your cunt is soaking him through both his sweats and boxers, is enough to have him dangerously close to the edge. his grip tightens as he holds you in place, your hips begging to move.

"hold on, ma... i’m gonna fucking bust in my pants before i even get to touch you properly," chris grumbles, his voice low and strained with barely contained lust. he gently lifts you off his lap, positioning you so you're lying flat on your back while he looms above you. the soft glow of the TV casts a warm light across your features, highlighting the delicate flush spreading across your cheeks as he drinks in the sight of you.

atender smile tugs at the corners of chris’s mouth as realization settles over him - the gravity of the situation and the depth of his feelings for you in this charged moment. he leans down, capturing your lips in a slow, sensual kiss, pouring all his affection and desire into the intimate gesture.

"you okay?" chris whispers, placing a feather-light kiss to your temple. at your quick nod, he lets out a soft chuckle, but his expression remains tender. "words, please. need to hear this is okay for you too, sweet girl," he urges, the endearment slipping easily from his lips and sending a jolt of pleasure through your core.

your walls clench involuntarily at the nickname, unused to hearing it in this context but craving more of his affectionate tone. the sincerity in his gaze makes it impossible to deny the truth - you're more than alright with this intimacy. in fact, the warmth of his words and the gentle way he's treating you only heighten your arousal, leaving you aching for his touch once again.

"yes, i’m okay... i want this chris, i promise," you whisper, extending your pinky finger between you, y/e/c eyes gazing up at him softly. the innocent gesture, reminiscent of childhood pacts, seems to inflame chris further, his already straining erection twitching in response to the simple, trusting act.

without hesitation, he wraps his own pinky around yours, and you both lean in to seal the agreement with a soft, lingering peck. as your fingers part, chris claims your mouth in a hungry, open-mouthed kiss, his tongue delving deep to taste you thoroughly. his chilly palms slide beneath the hem of your hoodie, tracing teasing patterns along your hipbones.

chris gradually pulls the hoodie over your head, breaking their heated kiss briefly. but as soon as the fabric clears your face, his lips are back on yours, moving with renewed fervor. his hands roam the newly exposed skin of your torso, caressing the soft curves hidden beneath the thin fabric of your crop top.

he reluctantly pulls away once more, drinking in the sight of your body laid bare before him. a low, appreciative sigh escapes his lips as his gaze lands on the glinting silver of your belly button piercing, nestled tantalizingly above the waistband of your shorts. the intimate accessory draws his attention like a beacon.

"did i ever tell you how fucking sexy this looks on you?" chris murmurs, his fingers trailing slowly down your torso, eliciting soft gasps from your parted lips. "i was a complete mess when you first got it done..." he trails off, lost in memories, before continuing, "thought about it so fucking much."

his touch sends shivers down your spine as one finger teases the edge of your shorts' waistband, causing your back to arch off the bed instinctively. your breath catches in your throat as that same finger brushes dangerously close to your most intimate area, a wicked grin playing on chris's lips as he revels in your whimpers of frustration. then, in a cruel twist, he withdraws his hand entirely, leaving you aching and wanting more.

"gonna find out how ticklish this is too," chris growls, swiftly tugging down both your underwear and shorts in one fluid motion. he pauses, transfixed by the sight of your thong clinging to your slick, aroused folds. a low, appreciative hum rumbles in his chest as he licks his lips, his eyes darkening with desire.

your cheeks flush a deep crimson as you watch him discard the discarded garments carelessly across the floor, the sound echoing in the charged silence. your heart pounds wildly against your ribs, nerves coursing through your stomach like electric currents. the air feels heavy with anticipation, each ragged breath you take seeming to magnify the pulsating ache between your thighs.

chris notices the way your bottom lip has fallen between your teeth, a nervous tick of yours he’s picked up on.

"all this fuss just for little ol' me?" chris teases, attempting to lighten the intense atmosphere with a joke. his attempt succeeds, coaxing a soft, melodic giggle from your lips. your hands slap playfully against his shoulder, sending a spark of electricity through your touch.

"shut up and take it off," you smile coyly, tugging gently at the hem of his shirt. chris obliges, sitting up slightly and tearing the garment off in one swift motion. your eyes linger on his now-bare torso, drinking in the sight of his soft, freckled skin stretched taut over lean muscle. an inexplicable urge washes over you, prompting a fleeting fantasy of placing tender kisses upon each speckled mark.

your gaze meets chris's, his eyes such a dark shade of blue they could almost be mistaken for brown eyes. you both hold the moment, two warm smiles shared silently between you as he takes your hand, pressing a feather-light kiss to your palm.

"i’m gonna need you to let me know if it's too much or if you don't like what i’m doing, okay?" Chris murmurs, his voice a soothing rumble. "want you to feel good, ma." with that, he leans in, brushing a soft peck against your lips before trailing open-mouthed kisses down the column of your neck. they dance along your skin, pausing to nibble delicately at the spot just above your belly button, where the piercing glints invitingly.

"chris!" you gasp sharply as his tongue blazes a searing path down to your pelvic bone, sending yet another shudder rippling through your frame. he smirks to himself, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards, before drawing your sensitive skin between his lips. soft sucks pepper your flesh, promising to leave behind a constellation of love bites. your hips buck involuntarily, seeking friction, as your hands fly to tangle in his hair, wordlessly pleading for him to venture lower. but chris has other plans. his left hand snatches both your wrists, pinning them securely against your tummy, stifling your movements.

"patience, y/n," chris coos reassuringly, "i’m getting there." with that promise hanging in the air, he uses his free hand to throw your thighs over his shoulders, positioning you perfectly for his next move. his mouth descends upon your slick inner thighs, lathering it with wet, open-mouthed kisses. the taste of your arousal fills his senses, a sweet-sour tang that makes him groan in appreciation. his tongue darts out, licking a slow, tantalizing path up your inner thigh, teasing closer and closer to your aching center without touching it directly.

"chris...please... need more," you plead, squirming beneath him. you try to lift your hips higher, desperate to bring your throbbing pussy closer to his waiting mouth. he chuckles softly, nipping at your inner thighs with his teeth. a surprised yelp escapes your lips as he moves to your other thigh, now tantalizingly close to your slick folds.

his lips glisten with anticipation as he looks up at you. using his free hand, he trails a single digit through your soaking folds, watching as your face contorts with pleasure. he gathers the copious fluids pooling around your entrance and brings his finger to your mouth. "open up for me," he commands softly.

as soon as his finger enters your mouth, your lips seal around it, and you moan softly at the taste of your own essence. your tongue swirls and laps, eagerly cleaning every inch until not a single drop remains. you maintain eye contact throughout, your eyes darkening with lust.

with a playful pop, chris withdraws his finger from your mouth. "every last fucking drop?" he teases, pouting exaggeratedly. "could've at least given me a little somethin', baby."

despite the jest, his cock twitches with need, the tip visibly glistening with pre-cum that's begun to soak through his boxers, clinging them to his thick length.

before you can form a response, chris’s tongue delves into your dripping folds, eliciting a soft moan from him as your flavor explodes across his taste buds. he knows he'll crave another taste of you soon, your essence already proving addictive. his hands release your wrists, allowing your fingers to tangle in his hair just as he seals his lips around your throbbing clit. he sucks hard, groaning as the vibrations send shockwaves through your core. more of your arousal trickles out, staining his sheets beneath you.

he hooks his arms under your knees, pushing them towards your chest to grant himself deeper access to your weeping pussy. his tongue plunders your folds, lapping up every drop of your essence.

"oh-…fuck!" you cry out, your hips undulating to meet the thrust of chris's probing fingers. each time they brush against that sensitive sponge-like spot deep inside, your pussy gushes in response, soaking his digits. whimpering moans spill from your lips as he skillfully curls his fingers, hitting that sweet spot again and again.

meanwhile, his tongue picks up speed, lashing at your clit with relentless fervor. the combined stimulation pushes you rapidly towards the brink, your body trembling with impending climax. his fingers pumping in and out while his mouth works overtime to wring every ounce of pleasure from your quivering form.

your body tenses, back arching off the bed as the overwhelming sensation crests within you. "chris!..oh god, yes!" you wail, your voice cracking with ecstasy. wave after wave of intense pleasure crashes over you, your inner walls clenching rhythmically around chris's fingers as your orgasm rips through you.

through it all, chris maintains his relentless pace, tongue still lashing at your throbbing clit and fingers continuing their deep strokes. he drinks in every muffled scream and whimper, reveling in the power he holds over your pleasure. as your contractions start to subside, he slows his ministrations, savoring the aftermath of your explosive climax. finally, he releases your clit with a parting lick, withdrawing his fingers with a soft pop.

pride swells in chris's chest as he watches you collapse back onto the bed, spent and shaking from the force of your orgasm. he takes a moment to admire the flushed, sweat-dampened beauty of you, his fingers gently tracing the curves of your quivering thighs.

"that was definitely a reaction" he murmurs playfully, his voice low and husky with satisfaction. he leans down to press a tender kiss to your inner thigh, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. In this intimate moment, with your defenses lowered and your trust in him palpable, chris feels a deep connection, a sense of possession that only adds to his arousal.

As you lay there, catching your breath and basking in the afterglow, chris's demeanor changes. the playful teasing fades, replaced by a hungry intensity in his gaze. he straightens, his impressive erection straining against his boxers, the damp fabric clinging to his thick length.

without a word, chris reaches for the waistband of his underwear, pulling them down just enough to free his cock, the tip already glistening with pre-cum. he gives his shaft a few slow pumps, his eyes never leaving yours as he says, "we can stop y/n” he murmurs softly, sliding his tip between your folds. a gasp leaves your lips, your legs immediately trying to close against him as you are still very sensitive. “just say the words…” he groans softly, teasing your entrance with his tip.

chris’s movements are deliberate and unhurried, giving you ample opportunity to voice your reservations if you choose. yet, as he teases the head of his cock between your slick folds, another startled gasp escapes your lips.

"she, baby," chris, his voice a soothing murmur against the tension. "just say the words...tell me to stop if you're not ready."

his tip continues to rub against your entrance, applying gentle pressure that makes you acutely aware of your body's responses. a shiver runs down your spine as your inner muscles clench involuntarily around nothing, craving the fullness only he can provide.

the silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken desires and lingering doubts. chris waits patiently, his cock still poised at your entrance, the heat of his breath ghosting over your most intimate flesh. he wants nothing more than to claim you, to bury himself deep and lose himself in your warmth. but he also respects your boundaries, willing to halt proceedings at the slightest indication of discomfort.

after what feels like an eternity, Chris speaks up, his voice low and gravelly with restraint. "y/n, i know you're still sensitive, but i need you, ma. please, tell me it's okay to keep going..." his words are a plea, a silent offer of comfort and reassurance should you require it. he holds his breath, waiting for your response, the tip of his cock twitching with anticipation.

you nod eagerly, opening your eyes to stare into his, “please chris” you mutter.

at the sight of your eager nod, chris's control snaps. with a guttural groan, he surges forward, sheathing himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust. your body yields to his size, accommodating the thickness of his cock as he fills you completely.

for a moment, chris remains still, savoring the exquisite feeling of being buried inside you. then, with a slow, deliberate withdrawal, he begins to move, setting a steady, deep rhythm that has you gasping and arching into his touch once more.

"fuck, you feel incredible," chris growls, his hips snapping forward to drive his cock home again. "so tight and wet for me...like you were made to take my cock." he punctuates his words with a particularly hard thrust, his pubic bone grinding against your clit and sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your nerves. you gasp at his words, never hearing such filth fall from his lips before.

“m-more…please…” you whimper softly, reaching out the grab his shoulders.

chris establishes a relentless pace, each stroke pushing you further along the path to another orgasm. his hands grip your hips tightly, holding you in place as he pounds into you with increasing fervor. the sound of flesh slapping against flesh mingles with your ragged breaths and stifled cries, creating a symphony of carnal pleasure.

"you like that, don't you?" chris pants, sweat beading on his brow as he loses himself in the primal act. "taking my cock like a good little slut...i bet you're gonna come all over it soon, aren't you? gonna let me fill you up ma?..."

he punctuates his filthy words with a sharp snap of his hips, angling to hit that perfect spot deep inside you.

chris’s thrusts become erratic, driven by a primal urge to claim you utterly. his cock pistons in and out of your dripping heat, the sound of his heavy breathing mingling with your high-pitched moans. each stroke sends waves of ecstasy crashing over you, threatening to pull you under.

"yes, fuck, just like that!" you cry out, your nails digging into chris's shoulders as you cling to him. "harder, please...m’gonna cum”

chris obeys, slamming into you with abandon. the room echoes with the force of his thrusts, the bed creaking beneath you. sweat drips down his chest, mixing with the tang of sex that permeates the air. his hands grip your hips, pulling out and quickly flipping you onto your stomach.

with you pinned beneath him, chris exerts complete control, his dominance over your body evident in every commanding thrust. he grips your hips harshly, using the leverage to drill into you with renewed vigor. the change in position allows him to reach even deeper, his cock stroking that sweet spot within you that sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your veins.

"take it, ma," chris grunts, his voice laced with dark satisfaction. "this is what you wanted, isn't it? for me to get a reaction out of you huh"

he once again punctuates his words with a brutal slam, the force causing your breasts to flatten against the mattress. hiss balls slap against your clit with each savage thrust, the dual stimulation driving you closer to the edge of oblivion.

lost in a haze of lust, chris becomes a creature of pure instinct, chasing his own release with single-minded determination. his hips piston back and forth, the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. your body rocks with the force of his thrusts, the headboard slamming against the wall in time with his movements.

"fuck, gonna cum soon," chris snarls, his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to leave bruises. "gonna let me fill you up? hm angel? "

he leans forward, changing the angle of penetration and hitting that magic spot inside you with every pass. your vision blurs, your mind consumed by the overwhelming sensation of being taken so thoroughly, so completely. you nod, moans falling from your mouth.

“y-yes…please chris…please cum in me..” you blabber, your face pressed into the mattress.

at your desperate plea, chris lets out a feral roar, his body tensing as he buries himself to the hilt one final time. with a hoarse cry, he erupts inside you, his hot seed pulsing deep within your core. the sensation triggers your own orgasm, waves of ecstasy washing over you as you convulse beneath him.

your walls clamp down around chris's throbbing cock, milking him for every drop as he continues to pump his release into you. the intense contractions draw out his pleasure, prolonging the blissful agony until they both collapse, spent and trembling.

in the aftermath, chris rolls off you, gathering you close as you both struggle to catch your breath.

chris lets out a final gasp as he rolls off you, wrapping you close to his chest. both of you lay there, panting heavily, struggling to catch your breath and slow down your racing hearts.

for several moments, neither of you speak, the silence of the room filled with the sound of your labored breathing. finally, he breaks the silence, his voice barely above a whisper.

"wow," is all he manages to say, his chest heaving up and down as he still struggles to catch his breath.

you can feel his heartbeat pounding against your ear, a testament to the intensity of what had just happened between the two of you. for a brief moment, you wonder if you should say something, but you're too spent to string together a coherent sentence.

instead, you simply nod in agreement, the wordless gesture seeming to convey your feelings perfectly.

chris tightens his arms around you, pulling you even closer against him. your body heat radiates off of eachother, your legs still tangled around his waist. despite the exhaustion, his heart continues to beat rapidly against your cheek, a constant reminder of the passion that had just occurred.

"that was..." he begins, his voice hoarse from their panting. he pauses for a moment, struggling to find the words to describe what had just happened.

he takes another deep, ragged breath, his chest heaving against your head. "amazing," he finally manages to say, his voice filled with awe and exhaustion. you nod, unable to find your voice still. the room is quiet once again, the only sound being the steady rise and fall of your breathing. chris's hands slowly stroke your back, tracing small, comforting circles on your skin.

he's clearly as spent as you are, but there's also a sense of deep satisfaction radiating from him.

a few moments pass in comfortable silence, the two of you simply holding each other as your breathing slowly returns to normal. chris leans his head down, burying his face into the crook of your neck, planting a soft kiss against your collarbone.

“chris?” you mutter softly

chris lifts his head slightly, his chin still resting on top of your head. "yeah?" he replies, his voice is equally soft.

he seems a little dazed still, but there's a hint of alertness in his tone, as if he was just roused from a pleasant dream.

chris huffs out a small laugh, his body shaking slightly from the chuckle. "fair point," he admits, a hint of amusement in his voice.

he pulls back just enough to be able to look down at your face, his gaze filled with a mixture of affection and playful mockery. you stare up at him through hooded eyes, a soft smile on your lips as you shake your head playfully. chris stares back down at you, his gaze softer than usual. he's still smiling slightly, but there's a new tenderness in his eyes.

he lifts one arm from your side, his hand moving to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. his touch is gentle, as if he's afraid of breaking the moment.

"well then," he says, his voice just above a whisper, "guess i should confess how long i’ve been wanting to do that"you raise an eyebrow quizzically, silently prompting him to elaborate. his hand moves to your cheek, his thumb tracing small circles against your skin.

chris takes a deep breath before speaking, "i honestly don’t even remember the last time i wasn’t...interested in you" he confesses, the faintest hint of a blush on his cheeks.

“i never..mentioned it cause i didn’t want to ruin our friendship or anything” he mumbles softly with a shrug.

“well there’s no way we can just go back to being friends after this” you sigh playfully

he lets out a snort, a small smirk on his face. "believe me, i have no plans on going back to being 'just friends'" he replies, his voice low and serious.

his hand moves down from your cheek to your neck, his thumb brushing against your skin as he continues to admire your features.

“then what…what are we doing?” you snort

he’s silent for a moment, simply staring down at you as his thumb continues to trace light circles on the skin above your collarbone.

finally, he gives a slight shrug, his eyes not leaving yours. "i’m not sure yet" he mutters quietly, his tone casual but the look in his eyes anything but. chris gently pulls you even closer, his arms wrapping around you possessively as if trying to ensure you don't disappear. you can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, and the heat radiating off his body as it molds against yours. you feel him nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

“i don’t know what the future holds” he mutters softly against your skin. “but i know that i want you in it. whatever that means.”

the two of you lay there in each other’s arms, silently contemplating the unknown future, but both knowing that there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

and in that moment, nothing else mattered. the rest of the world faded away, leaving only the two of you, together in the comfort of each other's arms.

in that small pocket of time, it didn't matter what would come next, or what label to put on what had just happened. all that mattered was that you were together, in the present. and right now, that was enough.

AUTHORS NOTE: nervous to post this but like i need to rip the bandage off LOLLL! hope you enjoyed :,) respectful feedback is welcomed.

TAG LIST: @freshloveee @floralsturniolo @chrissturnioloslittleslut @joces-wrld

[thisfeelslike-iykyk]

love languages ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

hp boys x reader (ft. harry potter, ron weasley, fred weasley, draco malfoy, cedric diggory, remus lupin, sirius black, james potter, tom riddle) backtrack: "the feels", twice inspiration: my post for pjo (here) that has the same concept

harry potter

giving: acts of service

harry always fights to protect those he loves, lest we forget the battle in the department of mysteries to “save” sirius, and even those he could not care less about (ahem draco). he’s self sacrificing, literally walking to his own death in the last book to save everyone else. and on a day to day basis, he goes out of his way to include or be nice to everyone, especially those who don’t really have friends, like luna or neville. he’s less about grand gestures and sappy love, instead preferring to care for his loved ones in practical ways.

receiving: words of affirmation

before harry went to hogwarts and met his friends, he literally received no love. petunia, vernon, and dudley would emotionally and physically abuse him. for that reason, I think harry would really appreciate someone praising him or just simply saying an “I appreciate you” or even “I love you”. also for that reason, I think physical touch might be a receiving love language for harry too.

ron weasley

giving: acts of service

oh gosh here we go, I already know there’s going to be so many “acts of service” guys on here. ron’s one of the most loyal people in the series, he’s always there for his friends and he is super selfless and protective of them. curse the movies for taking away his moment where he stands up on a broken leg to protect harry from a literal serial killer (well not really, but they didn’t know it at the time). he’s not the most, uh, articulate should we say, but he always helps his friends out.

receiving: words of affirmation

growing up in a family as big as his, ron got cast aside a lot. I mean, his literal deepest desire was to be noticed by others and not be overshadowed. and deep down he definitely knew that his family loved him, it was just kind of hard to see sometimes since his parents’ and siblings’ attention was always so divided. (side note, as an only child I could not imagine being in a family of ron’s size; one of my best friends has two sisters and she’s one of the nicest people I know, and I definitely think there’s a correlation) so if someone were to finally notice him and genuinely love him for who he is and tell him that, it would make him so happy. finally, he’s enough as he is. finally, he feels like someone loves him.

fred weasley

giving: quality time

quality time and acts of service are the big ones for fred. he’s willing to put himself into dangerous situations during the war (rip fred weasley, you deserved better) and the battle of seven potters. besides that, he thrives on bringing people together and making connections. he’s super friendly to everyone, a classic jokester, and he shows his love through the time he spends around people, especially george. they were always together. it hurts that they can't be anymore.

receiving: quality time

fred spent like all of his time with george when they were first starting weasleys’ wizard wheezes. granted, that was because starting a business takes a lot of time and effort, but it shows how fred is willing to spend time focusing on his passions. that led me to think he’d find it super important to spend time with his loved ones, and he would want his partner to spend a lot of time with him too. he uses humor as a defense mechanism and a coping mechanism, but deep down he knows that the war is actually dangerous and will have real consequences, such as bill getting mauled or george losing an ear. (or, you know, FRED LOSING HIS LIFE.) so he treasures every little moment with his loved ones.

draco malfoy

giving: acts of service

thinking about this was actually really hard. draco’s such a cold person, and he’s never shown love; all his selfless actions can be chalked up to fear and having no choice. so I had to look at when and why he married astoria. and this meant dipping into the cursed child, which I’ve never read fully but have read enough to be able to say I hate it and I don’t accept it. he truly did love astoria, even when his relationship with his parents suffered because of it. he became a better person because of astoria--miss  girl really said “I can fix him”. he even went so far as to disregard his father’s wishes when he wanted to let the malfoy line die with him. so I think when he really does find someone he loves, draco can be a pretty selfless person.

receiving: words of affirmation

gosh, just how much do people suck up to him? he was treated like a king in his early hogwarts years, and he loved it. I think the deeper reason is that he grew up without a ton of verbal affection from his family, so that’s something he craves from other places--a partner, or peers. the first time he hears an “I love you”, he’d be absolutely shocked and maybe turn cold or shut down. after some time and patience from both of you, he’d slowly begin to accept praise or loving words. if he’s feeling brave, he may even reciprocate them. only when it’s in the middle of the night and he’s pretty sure you’re asleep, though.

cedric diggory

giving: quality time

cedric spent a lot of time with cho when they were together; they would always go on dates and spend a lot of time together in between classes. it shows how much he values spending time with his loved ones. another giving love language of his is definitely quality time, because cedric is 100% a giver. he tipped harry off about the golden egg. he wanted harry to take the cup when they were in the maze. he’s just such a nice guy.

receiving: physical touch

this is for two reasons. one because I want it to be, and two because did you see his face when rita skeeter ruffled his hair in the movie? the guy was not having it, but I bet if the right person did it he’d be all blushy and smiley. also when harry went to the courtyard to tell him about the dragons, he was literally laying in his friend’s lap. and I can’t remember correctly, but wasn’t it said that he and cho would constantly hold hands? yeah. enough said.

remus lupin

giving: acts of service

remus does so much for others. he was one of the best defense against the dark arts professors for a reason. and even if his competition wasn’t so poor, I’m sure he would’ve been just as popular. he’s a natural mentor and caregiver, always there for others and sometimes neglecting his own needs because of it. he engages with his students on a personal level, especially harry, and he is always willing to put himself in danger for others, as seen in the battle of seven potters and the battle of hogwarts.

receiving: words of affirmation

this and quality time. for quality time, he spent a lot of time with his friends in school, and he spent a lot of time with harry when he was the datda professor. this time really helped grow his relationships and helped him feel close to his newfound family. as for words of affirmation, I think it’s obvious; as a kid, he never really had friends, and as a result he secretly yearns for encouragement and emotional support. kind words and whispered promises that everything will be okay. that is how remus lupin feels loved.

sirius black

giving: quality time

sirius spent so much time with his friends when he was young. he had a really rocky relationship with his family, so he gave all of his love to his friends. he and james were practically inseparable, they had such a nice connection. on top of that, after barely any human interaction for twelve whole years in azkaban, he treasures every single moment he has with his loved ones. it’s like every time he and his partner are together, he looks at them and can hardly believe this is real. but it is real. he’s out of azkaban, he’s free, and he has such an amazing partner to spend the rest of his life with. that’s decades! (I can’t with sirius’s death, I--no. he did not die.)

receiving: words of affirmation

sirius spent his childhood and adult life being rejected and ridiculed. that’s got to hurt, especially when he was literally in azkaban for something he didn’t do. he was so deprived of love and general human interaction for twelve years that I imagine he’d initially be kind of awkward or even scared when his partner first shows him love through praise or verbal affection. after a while though, he’d warm up and hopefully show that youthful, happy side of him again. also, he’d probably be big on quality time, since he got none of it at all during his azkaban years.

james potter

giving: words of affirmation

ah, finally someone who’s not acts of service or quality time! at this point I think maybe it’s just me. james is teasing and playful with his words; he’s very vocal about his affection and appreciation for his friends and loved ones. he did, after all, ask lily out pretty much every time he saw her. not at all like remus, who is a love letters and secret admirer kind of guy.

receiving: words of affirmation

james loved hearing praise and support. especially when he was in school. fuel his ego. that’s it.

tom riddle

giving: words of affirmation

I don’t think voldemort could physically feel love. I sometimes wonder if tom riddle and voldemort were different people, and honestly that’s a can of worms I don’t want to get into right now. I believe there’s some sort of theory that he can’t feel love because he was conceived while his dad was under a love potion? I have no idea. the important thing is that we all know how good tom riddle was at manipulating people. flattery gets you nowhere, they say, well clearly not if you’re tom marvolo riddle, because flattery got him everywhere. so he would use words to flatter people and show his admiration or appreciation of them, but was any of it actually real? I doubt it.

receiving: words of affirmation

honestly kind of the same deal with draco, but he's a lot worse. he wants to be treated like a king--scratch that, he wants to be treated like a god. he craves affirmation for his greatness and abilities. all his followers praise him endlessly, calling him “my lord” and sucking up to him. he also wanted his ideologies to be affirmed and supported by others. let’s face it, words of affirmation were just another way for him to prove to himself that he’s the greatest.

just a heads up guys, I'm so tired as I'm writing this so it was unedited

divider by @enchanthings

taglist: @loveinalocket, @raysmayhem-72, @stars-tonight, @toooster, @soft-likethesunset, @sheisntyou

[elli3luvs]

GOOD GIRL READER X DEALER! ELLIE

a/n: thank you guys for the attention the first part got! seeing your reblogs and comments make me super happy haha tomorrow i will be working on all of the requests i've gotten :)))) hope you guys enjoy this part as well

cw: the slightest smidge of smut ever lol

ellie wasn't too sure how you managed to encapture her like this

studying was like a negative priority in her life, yet here she was at the library on a saturday, watching you scribble notes in your journal

since the time at the party, the two of you have been basically inseparable

she accompanied you when you wanted to go to the mall to get a pretzel

and you followed her around when she roamed around campus

she had a physics final in a couple of weeks but she didn't really care about that right now

seeing your concentrated look was far more important

she was looking at you when a guy came up behind her, tapping her shoulder

you look up from your journal at the sudden intrusion

"you selling right now?" ellie grimaced at this

"nah," she picks up a pen that she hadn't even realized was near her, "not right now." she looks down at her notebook hoping the guy got the hint

you smile at her as she looks up at you through her eyebrows

you don't know if it's because of your demeanor but since you have been hanging out ellie doesn't sell to people around you

she always rolled her eyes when the person would leave too

spouting a "fucking people, man" or "can't they see i'm with you?"

you guys were taking it slow until you decided you had enough of it

the two of you were sitting on her shitty little couch that was half broken from god knows what watching some sort of sci-fi movie from the 80s

she would laugh at the visual effects

you laughed at how nerdy she was to actually get enjoyment out of this

your heart was so full anytime you hung out with her

all you wanted to do was flaunt her around campus

that's when you decided to full send it

"do you want to be my girlfriend?"

ellie was laughing before you said that but her smile dropped almost instantly

you shifted your eyes around the room nervously awaiting her answer

it was like she malfunctioned for a split second

she looked at you with a look you couldn't quite place, "really?" she whispered

you nodded, "yeah."

"oh, thank god." she relaxed into the couch, hand grabbing your lower thigh and squeezing

she wanted to ask you that weeks ago but didn't know how you would've felt

she was actually the perfect girlfriend

you could always expect her standing outside your class to fetch you, even when it was an 8 am

she may have been wearing sweatpants and a hoodie with her hair literally sticking every which way

but she was still there

she would knock on your door randomly

when you opened it she would be leaning against the doorframe with a goofy smile, "wanna makeout in my car?"

there would be times you would show up to her room unannounced and it would be hazy with smoke

she would clamber around like you were her parents catching her, "fuck, babe. sorry!" her bong would be shifted to the side as she sprayed whatever was next to her to try and get rid of the smell

you didn't have to heart to tell her it rarely did anything

there were times you would be cuddling and someone would pound at the door

she would groan, getting up with an apologetic glance

she would grab the wooden box under her bed, taking it to the door to have a hushed conversation with whoever was on the other side

she would always come back with the money in hand and a smile gracing her face

"want mcdonalds?"

the first time you guys ever had sex she was so gentle

you noticed her hands shaking a little bit as she caressed you

obviously, you didn't say anything, but it was the cutest thing ever to you

she whispered the sweetest words to you as she continued to touch you so gently

"you are the best thing that could've happened to me," she kissed at your neck, "thank you for going to that one party."

it made your heart swell

there was one time she was knuckles deep in you, making you moan and writhe around under her

when a loud knock came at the door

she continued her ministrations, not caring until it got louder and louder

"els! you got anything?" the voice yelled from the other side

she continued fingering you, yelling a gruff, "no! fuck off!"

"you should," you let out a moan as her fingers circled your clit, "sell to him. it's important."

she scoffs, "no one is as important as you, pretty girl."

ellie was so good to you

she always put your happiness and comfort above anyone or anything else

you were so undeniably happy with her

[makeyoumine69]

Lost Memory (Memory Reboot x4)

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader x Timothy Bryce

SUMMARY: Two lost souls, both broken and neglected, knowing they were never meant to be, found solace in each other just for one night.

CONTAINS: SMUT, angst, depression, obsessive thoughts, mentions of death, canon violence, tainted love, blow jobs, face-sitting, hand jobs, unprotected sex, cum swallowing, dirty talk, pet names, sensual foreplay, rimming, intoxication, praise kink.

WORDS: 4.5k

SONG REC: VØJ, Narvent — Lost Memory

A/N: Hello everyone, the new chapter is finally here! I'm sorry for the wait, but I hope you like it!

LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST].

Cool New York night air enveloped your shivering frame the moment you walked outside, leaving the noisy wedding party behind the walls of the luxurious Ziegfeld Ballroom. Slowly breathing in the fresh air, you closed your eyes and threw your head back a little to come back to your senses—you were literally broken to pieces, to say the least—your heart was pounding painfully in your chest and at some point you wished it would stop beating, thinking that it would end everything and finally set you free from all this pain and suffering. 

Hugging yourself, you took a few weak strides towards the street where cars were speeding by. Just one step, and tomorrow all the newspapers would report that there had been an accident in Manhattan right next to the Ziegfeld Ballroom where the pompous wedding of our Wall Street golden boy was taking place. You laughed to yourself at all this nonsense, how did you ever get into such a situation? Being completely sober, the realization of what you were thinking hit you even harder than if you were drunk or high, but now you were completely lucid, able to feel every twinge of pain.

Bewildered, you watched the yellow cars go by, sometimes you could see the impassive faces of the passengers inside. All this reminded you of a movie whose name you could never really remember. But it was definitely not a comedy or a drama. Maybe it was a documentary about someone's life... a tragic life?

With a sad sigh, you were about to sit down on the curb when you heard loud footsteps behind you and turned around to see a familiar silhouette approaching.

"Bateman?" You asked, stunned. "What are you doing here?"

The man didn't answer, as if he hadn't noticed you at all, casually pulling a cigar out of the pocket of his Prada coat that he wore over his wedding tuxedo, and for a second you thought it was just an illusion your sick mind managed to maintain to keep your psyche from collapsing.

After lighting his cigar, Patrick made a long drag before finally giving you an agonizing stare. "Just wanted to have some fresh air..." he paused, his white teeth clenching around the cigar, making his jawline look so sharp that even in the dark you could see it. "Plus, Evelyn didn't want me to smoke inside. We just got married and she's already making scenes."

You wanted to say something, but stopped at the last moment—his hazel eyes suddenly took your breath away—leaving you completely speechless.

"And you," Bateman continued as he came closer, his elegant figure looking so seductive in the dim light. "I can't believe you left all your business in Chicago just to come here and get squashed like a fucking cockroach!"

"What? What are you talking about?" You asked in a shaky tone, your temples pulsating with a strange tension that made you want to massage them. "What the fuck do you want from me?"

Patrick grinned wickedly as he leveled himself with you, the difference in height only adding to the menace of his appearance. "Tell me one thing, (y/n)," he whispered above your cheek, keeping the mere distance between the two of you. "Did you really think I'd dream of you coming back to me?"

You closed your eyes involuntarily, every word he said bringing the most inhuman pain you had ever felt. "S-stop," you replied, stepping back. "Shut... shut your damn mouth!"

"Ohhh," he cooed at you in a mocking way, which drove you crazy, but then he blew some smoke right in your face, which made you want to punch him in the chest. "You just have to accept that you lost," Bateman suddenly grabbed the collar of your coat to pull you closer. "Just accept that you fell in love with a man who doesn't give a fuck about you."

On the verge of tears, you didn't even struggle as the ground beneath your feet suddenly began to disappear. "I... I will not give you the satisfaction of hating you... you f-fucking bastard!"

Without thinking, you spat right into his smug face and before you knew it, his strong arms were wrapped around your trembling neck, almost straddling you so you couldn't even make a sound. Everything around you began to blur, and the last moment you remembered before passing out was Patrick's menacing laugh as he pushed you right out into the road in front of the speeding car. A fatal blow hit your body, a screeching sound of tires rang in your ears and you screamed in pain, choking on your own breath.

And then the darkness finally took you.

At least you thought so until you heard a familiar male voice calling out to you, and no, it wasn't Patrick. No way, if you were really going to die, you wished you would never meet him in the place you were going to transfer to. No doubt, that son of a bitch would burn in hell while you would end up in heaven. Somehow you were sure of that.

"Jesus, (y/n), will you stop yelling?" The grumpy voice called out to you again.

You blinked several times before opening your eyes to see the opulent interior around you. And who said that heaven was somewhere in the sky where angels were flying around promising a peaceful afterlife?

"Welcome back," the dark-haired man chuckled, swirling his drink in his hand. "I told you not to mix too many cocktails."

Cocktails?

You recoiled as if from an electric shock as you suddenly heard your inner voice, seemingly silent for centuries. Rubbing your eyes, you tried to get up, but the next moment you fell back onto something soft, which seemed to be a car seat, considering you definitely heard the engine rumble, so you were definitely in someone's car. Another attempt to get up was more successful and you took your time exploring the surroundings, and when you managed to get a good look at the person sitting on the opposite side of you, your heart did a flip-flop in your chest.

"Bryce?" You couldn't believe your eyes at first, but when you saw his cheeky grin, you knew it was really him.

"You drifted off right after we got in, so I decided not to wake you," Timothy replied nonchalantly before taking a sip of his drink. "Nice limo? Evelyn and Bateman were supposed to be in it, but then he told me they were leaving in a fucking helicopter," the man laughed, almost dropping the glass. "A fucking helicopter, can you believe that?"

Your head was spinning, making it difficult to process the information. Grunting, you pressed your hand to your forehead, trying to remember how you got in here in the first place.

"Ohhh...my head," you hissed, almost kicking the tray of drinks that was on the small table built into the limo door. "What...what happened after the ceremony ended," your question left Tim speechless and for a moment you both remained silent. "Bryce?"

Timothy frowned and placed the empty glass on his knee. "Are you kidding?"

"For God's sake, Bryce!" You suddenly raised your voice, but the next second you hissed in pain. "Can... can you just fucking tell me what the hell am I doing here?"

"You're asking me that?" Bryce tilted his head as he watched you try to sit comfortably. "Come on, (y/n), this isn't funny anymore. Besides, I warned you not to drink too much."

Tsk... I can't remember a damn thing.

When you managed to sit up straight, you pressed yourself against the cold window and sighed in relief. "And what exactly did...we drink?" 

The man scoffed. "I told you...you had several cocktails, but that was not enough...so you decided to finish everything the bar had."

"Ahh, screw you! I don't believe a word you're saying," you threw one leg over the other, watching the blinding lights of oncoming traffic. "Where are we going?!"

"Where? Jeez, if you can't drink, you better not even try," Tim replied curtly, his voice changing, now devoid of any sass. "We're going to my place."

"What?"

"Stop fucking pretending you don't remember," the man barked, squirming in his seat, the glass felt on the soft floor of the limo, thankfully it didn't break. "Do you know how deranged you are? You talked in your sleep-"

"I didn't!" You tried to interrupt him, completely embarrassed. "Take another glass and-"

"No, no, no, hold on!" Bryce leaned forward to get closer so you could see his face more clearly. "Did I hit the nerve?"

Yes, you did. You fucking did.

If only you could really confess and open up to him without fear of being accused or whatever. Would it even be right to tell Tim everything that happened between you and Patrick? When you were so close to telling him all the things that were bothering you, your voice suddenly disappeared, as if some invisible force was choking you from within. Only after a few minutes did you manage to speak, feeling Timothy's piercing gaze.

"Was it Evelyn who invited you to the wedding?" Your question surprised him, you could tell by the way he leaned back in his seat. "I'm just curious...because she invited me."

Every time Evelyn was mentioned, something changed in his expression, and you couldn't really find the right word to describe it—it was something much stronger than the usual sadness people always talked about—something that made you sad, too.

"Let's say," his lips curled into a wry smile and you couldn't take your eyes off them, they were beautiful and alluring. "I don't remember."

"You don't remember or...you don't want to remember?" You opened your coat, suddenly feeling suffocated in your clothes.

Bryce furrowed his thick eyebrows, looked down at the empty glass on the floor, as did you, and then your fingers touched as you both leaned down to pick it up. Tim's skin was not as soft as Patrick's, it felt completely different, it made you want to explore it more, to touch it, to taste it, as if it was your own personal forbidden fruit.

Without saying a word, Tim quickly pulled away and took the glass to place it on the tray next to the others, the amber liquid in them making them look like they were made of gold. There was no room for any more talk as the two of you pulled each other into a furious kiss, you let him place his hand at the base of your neck, drawing you closer and soon you were sitting on top of him, gasping into his mouth. Bryce's slightly flushed face made it impossible to think of Bateman, even though his image tried to appear every time you briefly opened your eyes. 

Leave... me... alone!

You almost growled aloud, but Tim's eager tongue prevented you from doing so, as he used it to shut you up completely, licking your mouth from the inside while his hands slid down your back to your ass, massaging it, and when you thought he was going to slap it, he just gave it a playful squeeze.

"Jesus, Bryce," you whispered against his red lips, swollen from your kisses. "I didn't know you could be so sweet."

Tim craned his neck and you seized the moment to leave a wet hickey on his smooth skin, he smelled so good you thought you could just snuggle into his chest and sniff his scent. And why did you even bother with these childish, silly games with Bateman? Unfortunately, some questions never had answers, but it didn't matter now. Not when you could find comfort in the arms of Patrick's best friend. 

God, I wish you could see me right now.

"There's so little you know about me, baby." He chirped before helping you take off your coat, his impatience turning you on wildly. 

With a soft giggle, you unbuttoned your shirt. "Huh, baby? Really? And I thought you were the type who didn't use such primitive nicknames."

Smirking, you teased him with the slow rocking of your hips against his, feeling his hard length pressed against your burning core, and it spurred you to move faster, more erratically, as you unexpectedly became as impatient as he was. And even though you didn't like losing control, you wanted to get lost right now, even though you'd probably regret it tomorrow, but at least the regret would be different.

Nibbling at the artery on your neck, Timothy grabbed your ass tighter to make the friction more vivid, his finger digging into the expensive material of your Gucci pants. "I can call you anything you want," he growled into your collarbone, your shirt half undone. "Just tell me what you want to be tonight?"

"I can be anything," you caught his warm lips with your own to kiss him again in a way that bordered on desperation, as if your life depended on it, and he responded with the same ferocity. "Anything you want..."

Chuckling at your cheeky statement, the man lounged in his seat and looked at you up and down, admiring the way your clothes were disheveled, your hair was nothing like it had been when you had just arrived at the wedding and even your feelings were different. Everything was different now, the whole world seemed to diminish to the size of the interior of the limousine and you both wanted this moment to last forever, but you knew it was impossible.

Bryce decided to use his mouth in a more effective way than just talking, latching it around your nipple through your shirt, but then taking it off completely and swirling his tongue around your hard tip.

"Don't be anything," he quickly unbuckled his belt and pulled out his hard cock. "Just be mine tonight."

You couldn't hide a smile of genuine satisfaction as his words struck a chord in your chest. "Deal."

With that, you carefully rose from his lap to position yourself between his wide-open legs, watching him touch himself with pure abandon. And yet, everything about Tim was far too alien, your mind kept bringing back the memories of what had happened in the bathroom a few hours ago. It hurt, it hurt so much that you almost chewed your cheek to the point of blood to hold back the tears. Bryce, you had to focus on Bryce, he was here, right in front of you, all spread out and pumping his thick cock. 

Stop thinking about Bateman!

"Are you sure you know what to do?" Timothy glared down at you, concerned by the sudden change in your demeanor.

Shaking yourself off, you smiled in reply and before you knew it, your hand was sliding along his, then completely replacing it and stroking his dick vigorously, smearing his dense pre-cum all along your hand. 

"Watch me," you murmured and lowered yourself even more to take him in your mouth, savoring his salty taste. "Mhhm...fuck, Bryce, you taste so good."

Tim couldn't stop himself from moaning, grabbing the edge of the seat and closing his eyes in ecstasy. "Keep going," he purred, fighting the urge to fuck your throat. "Shit... Bateman doesn't even know what he lost."

Bryce's words almost made you choke on his beefy shaft, but it only took a moment to pull yourself together and just enjoy the way his dick slid in and out of your mouth. As the man pushed himself further, the tip brushing against your throat, you leaned against his hips for support, allowing him to have his way with you. Just the sight of him made you tremble with desire, as you had never really thought that Tim could be so hot, not that you had any doubts that he was a skilled lover, but reality never ceased to surprise you.

"I...I'm so fucking close...uh," his voice dropped even lower, eloquent proof of his words. "Your mouth...arhhh...you know how to work magic with your mouth, babe."

Although you had always denied having a praise kink, being with Tim was the first time you were truly willing to admit that you did have a praise kink. Every little praise he gave you was like balm to your broken soul, encouraging you to suck him harder, to drink him dry. These two men were far too unlike each other, but in the end, you seemed to crave them both.

Being so close to falling apart, Bryce couldn't control himself any more and took a handful of your hair and plunged full length into your bruised mouth until you both noticed that the car had stopped. Tim swore loudly but that didn't stop you and the next thing you remembered was feeling thick ropes of his hot cum shooting down your throat and you could swear it tasted so fucking sweet. Maybe you were delusional, maybe it was just another hallucination–you didn't care because you were high like no drugs could make you.

I'll remember that taste for sure. 

A little later, you didn't know exactly how much time had passed, and you didn't recollect how the two of you had gotten into Bryce's apartment. You didn't care about the luxury of this place, how expensive the furniture was, how soft the silk sheets were when you fell on them, your naked skin sliding along the cold material like a ship on waves. You were about to lose all connection to reality when Tim climbed on top of you, his hairy chest rubbing against yours, your legs wrapped around his waist and you couldn't stifle a moan as his leaky dick rubbed against your legs.

Creasing the sheets, you raked your hand through his black, tousled hair, pulling him closer so that your lips could collide in a hunger kiss. "Fuck me, Tim," you murmured unexpectedly, brushing your feet against his hips. "Fuck me like there's no tomorrow."

"Are you always this needy?" He teased, biting your lower lip and licking it after a quick nibble. "Or is it because of me?"

Perplexed, you stopped doing anything as his words left you pondering. "I... I don't know... I don't know who I really am..."

Bryce nodded without saying anything, his nose touching yours in a brief moment of genuine affection, and somehow you thought he understood everything, that he could read you like an open book and there was no need for you to explain. Pecking your cheek, the man slowly turned you over on your stomach and you quickly got down on all fours because you couldn't wait any longer. Bucking your hips, you turned around to see him positioning himself behind you, his warm palm caressing your ass before a finger probed your tight hole, making you gasp but you didn't falter, showing him how ready and eager you were.

"Uhh," Tim stroked himself several times before aligning himself with your opening and diving in with a slow, deliberate thrust. "Fuck...mmhm-fuck."

The mere thought that he had been imagining Evelyn all this time, starting with you giving him head, suddenly made you angry, and for a brief second you allowed yourself to imagine that it was Patrick who was stretching you from the inside, but somehow you began to feel even worse.

"I'm sorry...I'm not Evelyn," you blurted out without thinking. "But I..."

"Shut up," he cut you off and slammed into you relentlessly, forcing you to take him, no matter how painful it was. "I don't want to hear about her...not even a thing."

Bryce was right, it was so fucking stupid of you to bring Evelyn at such a moment, but it was so hard for you to think clearly and Tim's fat cock didn't help at all, the fullness it gave you was completely overwhelming. It made you forget everything and you didn't even want to compare your sensation with the way Patrick made you feel - your mind was finally free of any emotions or thoughts–you were drowning in a carnal lust. You were both extremely vocal, poor neighbors who could hear you at this hour, but Timothy seemed to be completely indifferent as he set the pace, pounding into you with all his might, each stroke full of desperation and unbridled passion. 

By the time dawn broke, you couldn't remember how many orgasms you'd both had, as you'd probably tried every possible and impossible position. You managed to be on your knees for him, under him, on top of him. It was madness you never thought you were capable of. As you rode his face, touching yourself, you cried out Bryce's name, not even afraid to accidentally use Patrick's name instead. 

"Tim...mhmm-fuck...Tim...I'mma cum!" You fisted his hair, sliding along his glistening face as you rubbed your most sensitive spot. "Fuck...yeahh-Tim...ahhh!"

Shaking, you cum around his face, feeling his strong tongue move inside your tight ass as your inner channel spasmed around it, causing him to moan and hold you close to prolong your climax. Time stopped for both of you with the last stroke of his tongue along your tender flesh and you both collapsed exhausted on the bed. 

The first rays of the sun awoke you earlier than you could have imagined. As you lazily got up from the bed, trying not to disturb Tim snoring peacefully, you checked the time before you started looking for your clothes. To be honest, you wanted to stay here in his bed and continue to sleep in his arms, but you knew it would only lead to destruction and you were sure that Bryce thought the same.

Maybe it was a mistake?

Frowning, you wanted to punch yourself for being so reckless and stupid, but Tim's loud exhale caught your attention. You turned to check on him before leaving his bedroom to quickly get dressed and use the bathroom. All the while, you tried to ignore your own reflection, feeling the shame and contempt eating away at you from within, though you didn't even understand why. Bryce wanted this to happen as much as you did, but no matter how hard you tried to reassure yourself, it just didn't seem right. After one last look in the large mirror above the sink, you left the bathroom and soon after you left Timothy's apartment. 

The taxi ride back to the Plaza Hotel didn't take long as it was only six in the morning. Looking out the window, you saw rare pedestrians walking here and there, some of them holding newspapers that you were sure were the New York Times. The tops of the skyscrapers were about to reach the sky, and every time you craned your neck to look at them, your head began to spin. All these little details made you realize that you missed New York and probably your former life?

Was it worth it leaving everything behind?

This question kept swirling around in your head even as you finally got back into your suit and decided to take a shower to clean up after such a wild day. Dear God, you just fucked two different men in one day. 

"I'm so pathetic..." You muttered to yourself as you stood under the hot water. "What am I going to do now?"

Pressing your head against the wet tiled wall, you gave up and let the tears flow down your face, the water washing them away in an instant. You felt guilty, thinking that you'd only used Bryce for your own needs, knowing that it wouldn't lead to anything serious, but you did it anyway. It was so damn selfish. But then you remembered the words Patrick had said to you in the bathroom just before the ceremony started. You clenched your hand into a fist and the next second you slammed it into the wall with all the strength you had. The blow was so strong that your hand began to bleed, but you ignored it because physical pain was nothing compared to the emptiness inside your soul. As if under a spell, you kept hitting the wall, leaving bloodstains on it. 

Five hours later, you are sitting in the restaurant area of the Plaza, waiting for Paul Allen to join you for lunch. Since you had some time before your flight to Chicago, you thought it would be good to catch up with him and talk a little about your current situation at your new job.

Maybe I can get a fresh start here...

Rocking in your seat, you looked down at your bruised hand, which was covered in a tight white bandage, and luckily you managed to stop the bleeding without going to the hospital, but you were still a little nervous, though not because of your wound. What if Paul would tell you that there was no way you could return to New York because the company in Chicago wouldn't let you go? You tapped your fingers on the table in anxiety before picking up the New York Times to distract yourself. One page, then another, until an interesting article appeared in your vision–a luxurious tobacco store in Upper Manhattan had been robbed–the very store you always liked to visit and even dreamed of buying a collection of cigars to give to Patrick...

"(Y/n)! How have you been?" Paul's cheerful voice echoed across the room and when you turned to face him, you noticed that he looked even more tanned than the last time you saw him. 

"Oh, hi," you accepted his handshake and then Allen took a seat across from you. "I've been better," your other hand was still holding a newspaper and it caught Paul's attention. "What about you?"

Paul nodded in understanding. "Well, my job kicks my ass, is all I can say," he laughed, and before you could say anything else, he pointed to the copy of the New York Times. "What are you reading?"

Slightly embarrassed, you folded the paper and put it aside. "Times," you replied briefly. "The tobacco store I liked to visit was robbed in broad daylight. Can you imagine that?"

Allen shifted in his seat. "I didn't know you frequented places like this," he chuckled, finally opening the menu. "Because I don't remember you smoking."

Smirking, you leaned back in your chair. "You don't know anything about me, Allen," you took a sip of your wine and watched him tense up a bit. "Anyway, I just got a little upset because I wanted to buy something in this store for..." you suddenly stammered, feeling dizzy.

"For...?" Paul arched his eyebrows and looked at you suspiciously.

"For a person... ," you finished. "...a very special one."

"Your date?" The man asked in a playful tone. "And who might that be?"

You found this situation quite ironic, because you really imagined yourself going to that store and buying those fucking cigars, hoping they would impress Bateman, and now you ended up fucking his best friends because he married Evelyn Williams.  

As you propped yourself up on your elbow, you suddenly started to laugh, but then it turned into a pathetic whimper. "I'm so fucked up, Allen," you shook your head and gripped the table. "You can't even imagine how... fucked up... I am."

And I don't know how I'm going to survive this.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[meeludrawz]

hello! I seen some of ur writing and it’s GREAT! could you maybe write an Izuku x Reader one?? Maybe a movie night.

A/N: Of course I can!! <3 I loved doing this one!

Movie Night - Izuku Midoriya x Reader

"Hey baby?" Izuku's head popped in the entrance of your shared bedroom.

"Hm?" You looked up from your book.

He walked in with a bright smile, now that he fully had your attention.

"I've been thinking-"

You interrupted him with a raised eyebrow. "Something wrong?" He shook his hands in a defensive way. "Ah- No no no! Nothing's wrong! Everything is perfect- I mean.." He scratched the back of his head. You frowned a bit, something was definitely wrong but you let him continue. "I just thought that now I'm a pro hero.. I- Just have less time with you and I've felt bad about that"

Your expression softened. "Izuku.. We've already talked about this, I don't mind. As song as you still come back home safe"

"I know, I know, it's not that, I just-" He sighed, chuckled, then reached out his hand for you. "I can't find my words, I've never been really good at.. Being 'cheesy'.. I mean, talking romantically, like flirting and all-"

You grabbed his hand and giggled. "You were trying to flirt?"

"No! I mean! Maybe?" His freckled face was red even though he gave you a little smirk. "Come, I wanna show you something!"

He dragged you downstairs to the living room. Your house was kinda big for just the two of you but he was a pro now and he had lots of money. He never cared about it, but maybe he had bought that big house because he was planning on having a family? There were some unused rooms, but even if your theory was right-

Your thoughts were interrupted when you walked in the living room. The curtains were all closed, a blanket fort was put in front of the tv, pillows, snacks, fairy lights- It was a literal tiny paradise.

Izuku smiled brightly at you. "Do you.. Remember the last time we did that?"

You smiled as brightly even though a pinch of nostalgia hit you. "Of course, we were at UA, you had a broken arm and recovery girl had to use her quirk multiple times to fully heal you"

You two, back in UA, had scheduled a date but with his injury.. You had to report it to later and you had both been very disappointed. But before he could get his second appointment with the lady, you had snuck into his bedroom and made him a blanket fort. So your date had been saved! And he had cried, of course, but hey, you cried a bit too.

Since then, even if it hadn't been so long since you graduated, you two were inseparable.

He smiled again, glad that you remembered your first date with him. "I've grabbed our favourite snacks and movies" He crawled into the blanket fort and plopped down, lying on his side. Izuku then reached his hand out and you gladly took it before crawling into the fort too.

You snuggled your back against his chest and he wrapped a blanket around the both of you.

After choosing a movie, you just watched him for a couple of minutes. He was just so pretty. His eyes.. His hair.. His freckles.. Honestly, no one was better than him as a boyfriend. He had the best heart a human could have and it was all yours.

You gave him a quick peck on his cheek. His face flushed red out of surprise, as you had taken him off guard.

Deku looked at you, confused a little but he quickly pulled you, no, imprisoned you against his chest and flooded you with a shower of kisses on every part, that he could reach, of your body.

Right now, nothing mattered. The end of the world could happen and you wouldn't care at all, because he loved you and you loved him.

Even if you forgot to actually watch the movie.

[goatcheesecak3]

hello! may i please request some hcs of your poor, snivelling adam stanheight 😔😔 thank you! <3

Dealing with trauma headcanons

Adam Faulkner-Stanheight x gn!reader

A/n: hello!! Sorry this took so long to get to, I've been super busy lately! I wanted to touch on the trauma from Amanda breaking into his apartment a bit more, since i think that's quite overlooked imo. Hope you enjoy!! :^)

It's not uncommon for you to come home from work to the apartment you and Adam share, only to find him curled in a ball sniffling softly. He's been trying so hard to get back on his feet, but somedays he just gets too frightened when you leave him alone in the apartment. He finds somewhere where he can make himself small, and just sits and cries. You've found him in the closet, in the bed, even under the table in his redroom.

When you asked him why he does this, he said it's because every little sound makes him think someone's broken into his apartment again, and he thinks he has better chances of survival if he hides, because trying to defend himself didn't work last time.

One time the power went out in your apartment complex, and he had the worst panic attack you'd ever seen. He was absolutely convinced someone had shut off the power on purpose so they could break in and get him in the dark. There was literally nothing you could do to calm him down, he pulled you into the redroom and began to barricade the door with whatever he could find.

It took about an hour of convincing for him to let you go out and prove to him that there was no one in the apartment. Only once you'd opened all the cupboards, and checked under the bed and the sofa three separate times, did he believe that there was no intruder. Once his adrenaline wore off he collapsed in your arms in floods of tears.

Ever since then, you keep an electric lantern for every room, to make sure that even if the power goes out, there's still some light. In a similar vain, your apartment is dotted with lamps wherever you can put them. He can't sleep without a lamp being on, and even then he has to keep a torch and some batteries under his pillow just in case.

Adam avoids talking about his ordeal, but if he's had too much to drink he can't help himself. He stumbles over his words and chokes out sentences between sobs, telling you everything he went through in excruciating detail. You know he doesn't want to hear some spiel about how he's "so strong, and so brave", he just wants you to hold him while he cries.

You can tell when Adam is about to cry by the way his nose scrunches up, and the way his lips become pursed. It takes quite a lot for him to cry, he usually gets frustrated and angry first, brows tight together and his fists held tightly. But after a while, this becomes exhausting, and despite his restraint, the tears come flooding.

One of the most unexpected incidents of his emotional outbursts was when the two of you were watching a movie in bed. You were cuddling up together, acting all cutesy and giggling, when you had absent mindedly stroked his cheek. Without any warning, his giggles turned into sobs. As it would turn out, when he was trapped in the bathroom, the doctor had held his face in a similar way. It wasn't that he didn't find it comforting when you did it, it was just that the last time it had happened he was unsure if he would ever be comforted by another person ever again.

Ever since learning this, you'd both agreed to try and give him new, more pleasant memories to associate with his cheek being caressed. For example, when he landed a job as a photographer for a local venue, you held his face and kissed him. When the pair of you got a cat together, you did the same.

You wouldn't be surprised if Adam is never completely okay again, no one would be after the ordeal he went through, but you know how to care for him when it gets bad. Cuddles and kisses are always a big help, as well as warm blankets and fresh bedsheets. You know Adam well enough to know his triggers and when that fear is bubbling up just below the surface, and you know exactly what to do; order some pizzas, put all the lamps on, and before he can even ask you for reassurance, tell him "you're safe, babe. I promise"

[prettyinpwn]

What is your opinion on Filbrick Pines?

Oh boy... long story short, my opinion on him is pretty low, not gonna lie. I went into his character a lot in my analysis post on Ford's writing (found here), since Filbrick had a large effect on Stan and Ford's characters, even if only in subtle ways. To summarize my points on Filbrick:

Definitely abusive, in my opinion. I don't think physically, but for sure emotionally and mentally. He's the type of father who provided materially, but otherwise didn't seem very good at it.

Was way too focused on money. Now, I think it's very possible that Filbrick could have a great backstory reason for this. My biggest guess is a life of poverty and wanting to provide better for his family, but the cruel irony is that in seeking wealth, he hurt his family (e.g "Stanley, by "sabotaging" Ford you hurt our whole family, because he was going to make us millions, so I'm gonna throw you out, ignoring the fact that by throwing you out I'm currently hurting the family in the way I'm accusing you of."). He also hurt Ford. The way Filbrick treated Ford was like a Willy Wonka golden ticket. "Oh, you're smart? This college might make you a millionaire? I'm impressed!". He didn't care about what Ford wanted, he cared about what Ford's brains could get him. Case in point: he didn't seem to give a rat's ass about Ford's brains or college dreams until the principal implied it could make money.

Iirc, according to Hirsch, the quote Stan says in Little Gift Shop of Horrors ("Movies are great! You watch the movie, you scare the girl, the girl snuggles up next to you, next thing you know you gotta raise a kid. Your life falls apart. Forget that last part.") was actually something Filbrick used to say. Like DEAR GOD Filbrick said that in front of Stan and Ford? "Hey kids, my life was great until I got your ma knocked up with Shermie, and then my life was pure suck after that.". Like... who... who just says that in front of their kids? Who even THINKS that about their kids? Yikes.

The way Stan and Ford are named. The code at the end of A Tale of Two Stans is played as a joke, but when you think about it, it's... kinda sad. "A STUBBORN TOUGH NEW JERSEY NATIVE, FILBRICK WASN'T TOO CREATIVE, HAVING TWINS WAS NOT HIS PLAN, SO HE JUST SHRUGGED AND NAMED BOTH STAN.". Filbrick did not give a single f*ck. "Oh, I have twins? Eh, I'm too lazy to think about a name, just call 'em practically the same thing.". What father does this?

In the post I linked above, I also hinted at how I thought Bill's manipulations of Ford almost were a mirror echo of Filbrick (even in their character design, it's odd how they both have yellow brick and blue with hats themed designs, he's got the literal word 'brick' in his name, etc). Because when you think about it, what did Ford's father teach him but "you are a puppet to be used by me to get what I want"?

There's a reason Ford and Stan are incredibly broken people, and it all started with Filbrick. He's the one that taught Stan to believe he's worthless and a f*ckup, and the one that taught Ford that he's a tool to be used. So... nah, not a fan of the guy, if I didn't make that obvious already lol. BUT... I will say this, as this is something I did give him credit for in my Ford analysis post: a lot of Ford and Stan's positive qualities are things he passed down to them, namely their protectiveness of family and "toughness". But unlike Filbrick, who manifested that in toxic ways, Stan and Ford took a heavy albatross necklace of generational trauma and turned it around to a positive.

This goes even further when Stan passes the lesson to Dipper. Dipper learning to "fight back"? That's a family lesson that comes from Filbrick, originally, when he signed Stan and Ford up for boxing. Some have criticized the way Stan taught Dipper that lesson, but you can't argue with the end result:

TL;DR: Filbrick mostly sucks, but... like most well-written characters, he does have some gray area. Was he a good father? No. But the gauntlet meat grinder he put Ford and Stan through - worth it or not - made them the tough family protectors they are as adults. I will give him that, at least.

[frumfrumfroo]

I mean, I’m still glad it was flat out stated that Ben fell in love with Rey because there were people still insisting he only wanted her power or that there was never anything romantic between them, but I get what you’re saying. We have more evidence, I think, of his feelings for her than of her feelings for him. I think it would change things up a bit to have actual concrete canon evidence of those feelings being mutual.

Sure, of course people are happy to hear it. I don't think it's new information at all, and it's honestly weird to me that some people act like it is, but it's nice to actually get recognition of your canon pairing after all the bullshit we've been through. It's the rock bottom bare minimum, but DLF hasn't been clearing that bar for a long time, so it feels like a win.

I think it's 100% clear that Rey, the actual character, loves Ben and desperately wants to be with him, but Rey the actual character was taken out back and shot so DLF could have their SWCU brand avatar. I don't hold tros against the Rey of the first two films or her potential, just like I don't allow tros to ruin Luke and Leia for me. I'm not taking that shit on board because it was a bunch of incoherent nonsense which fundamentally destroyed the entire narrative and thematic heart of SW.

We don't have a declaration from Rey, but she showed us where her heart was by leaping into the lion's den with zero back up or exit strategy. She threw her life down at Ben's feet knowing that her life represented one of the last hopes for the galaxy. She believed in him that strongly. She wanted him that badly.

And, you know, despite the absolute shit show of tros, the actors managed to deliver us a perfect moment based solely on the emotional continuity from TLJ without any scripted dialogue to fuck it up. Her face when she wakes up in his arms. Her kiss. He is the home she's yearned for all her life.

If people can't understand that means she loves him, that's a them problem.

And yeah, it would be great if DLF would acknowledge this incredibly obvious and well-established fact of the ST in words, it'd be nice to have more ammunition because at this point we've earned being petty, but I don't think it would change anything. They literally kissed on the mouth for longer than any other couple in all of SW and antis were blind suddenly, they couldn't see. We get 'kiss of gratitude' and 'but isn't that incest tho' ludicrous copes to this day.

No amount of validation from DLF is going to move the needle for the entrenched doofus brigade in this fandom. Ep IX was the crucial moment which would have vindicated the story and brought the audience together (not that it would ever have won over some people, but you know) and they whiffed that. Even in the shitty, nonsensical execution of tros, we saw the microcosm of what the ST's RotJ would have done. So many people finally 'got' Ben just from two minutes without dialogue, imagine if the movie had been coherent and had had the ending the narrative needed and promised.

But yeah, anyway. I expect nothing from DLF and I don't think anything they could do will ever make much difference now. The canon is already broken and can't be fixed without just redoing ep IX, which would never happen. The audience and the GFFA are both fractured beyond repair.

[aihoshiino]

The babygirlification if Hikaru is crazy in this fandom... I can't believe that people seem to believe he did zero bad things when ch109 literally showed him standing over Yura and saying that she died so he could feel something...? Just because he's not the one who pushed her, doesn't mean he wasn't an accomplice! (I don't see how Nino would've known about the hiking trip without his help. Also don't see why he would be there monologuing unless he's also a hiking enthusiast who just happened to be there.) He could be both! He could be someone Ai loved but also be a person who became lost without her! Look at Aqua who literally went on a maniacal journey of revenge that saved literally no one & killed 2/3 people whom Ai loved. Because she's gone. The way I see Hikaru's character is that, he loved Ai and understood her as a person instead of the persona she presented. Yet her passing made that persona the only legacy she left behind (in his eyes). She was seen as "the idol closest to the Dome" even though she didn't care! That title wasn't given to any of the other Bkoma members, just her. And, he wasn't really allowed into their children's life because she said so. The only thing he's got left were the "lies" and despite knowing that killing people for her legacy is not what she would've wanted, she's not around to stop him anymore. I think he was a man driven to desperation and doing terrible things because his love was genuine yet no one taught him how to love properly. And her final "rejection" made him believe that being a terrible person was the only thing he could be. Which was why Ai's video became such a huge blow to him: he could've lived without her knowing that her as a person didn't let go of him, yet he went down this path thinking that the true her rejected him & the "lies" was the only thing he could take.

I don't think Ai's rejection broke Hikaru, per se. I think she made him believe that he was worthy of love and not broken (like he thought). And the way things unfold drove him into a spiral that was planted long ago. Humans don't need to be innocent to be worthy of love. The HKAI relationship was two traumatised children finding comfort in eachother. And Hikaru's crimes were about someone letting intrusive thoughts get to them. I don't like how Akasaka handled it at all, but I think erasing Hikaru's grief and the destruction it brought isn't a good way to read his character.

SO, for what it's worth, I do think the way you've analyzed Hikaru here is how he was intended to be read by Akasaka, at least by the end of the story, I don't blame anyone at all who went into this final stretch of OnK legit thinking we were going to get a reveal that Hikaru was not just a straight up villain or at least sympathizing with him and interpreting him as a slightly softer character, because the story basically spends the entirety of the Movie Arc beating you over the head with Extremely Sympathetic Hikaru Characterization.

Hell, it starts asking you to sympathize with him basically from the word go. The first concrete fact we learn about him outside of Aqua's insanely (understandably!) biased POV immediately throws every explicit and implicit assumption we have about him out the window. Not only does his age mean that he was one of Ai's peers and not, as Aqua seems to have been assuming, an older man who had victimized her but we learn this information in tandem with realizing - as Akane points out - this means Taiki was conceived when he was eleven years old, with all that implies. Akane's disgusted reaction pretty clearly telegraphs to the reader how we're supposed to take it and… idk, maybe this sounds cynical, but giving a character a backstory of CSA is like the Press To Make Audience Instantly Want To Protect This Character's Smile button. It very much primes you to want to feel bad for him.

109 does throw a spanner in these works and I do remember even at the time feeling very fucking uncertain about OnK potentially going for the grody old trope of "this character was a CSA victim and now they're Evil" (IF ONLY I FUCKING KNEW) but the more I re-read 109, I felt increasingly uncertain of what, exactly, we were supposed to take away from it. I actually had a suspicion for a really long time that 109 was so heavy handedly and overtly portraying him as a straightforward villain specifically to mislead the reader When They Cry-style and that he wasn't the one responsible for Yura's death at all.

Add all this to the fact that the Movie Arc centers Hikaru's victimhood and his extremely sad wet cat pathetic boy characterization literally at the expense of Ai's story in the movie that was supposed to be about her but what the fuck ever and it's really hard not to think that this is how the story wants you to feel about Hikaru. Hell, the Movie Arc even asks us to empathize with Airi, who is a fucking child rapist. I don't think it's unreasonable for anyone to assume that we were not supposed to think of Hikaru as a straightforward villain, especially when Ruby basically, like, looks into the camera when she's having her meeting with him and goes "nobody is born ontologically evil btw people get fucked up by their environments and blaming individuals for systemic issues isn't how anything gets fixed".

Also, like… I want to be delicate about this but I think it's also important to remember that Hikaru's motivations and supposed villainy as portrayed in OnK as of late are pretty outlandish and hard to connect with. But there are almost certainly people in OnK's audience who are also C/SA survivors who are able to resonate with a more grounded portrayal of him. I don't blame anyone at all for preferring a more sympathetic take on him in that case.

[albertasunrise]

Seeing Things - Oops Baby

Masterlist

Summary: Being best friends with Frankie meant movie nights, drinks with the guys and a shoulder to cry on when you got your hear broken. He is head over heels for you but you don’t feel the same… yet a drunken mistake will tie your lives together forever!

Relationships: Frankie Morales x Reader

Warnings: Like AO3 I choose to give none. Read at own risk. 18+ (So... I am trying to update my other pics but the reaction I getting from this ones really giving me the motivation to continue it... so thank you and I hope you enjoy this update! ♥️ It's not a super long one but everything gonna become clear I promise!)

Series Masterlist - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

In the weeks that followed, the sightings of you only increased. You seemed to be everywhere he looked, asking him the same thing over and over again. 

Come back to me

He wished he knew what you wanted. Surely you didn't want him to leave little Esme? You would never have wanted him to hurt himself so why did you ask him to go back to him? You were dead!

"I brought you your favourites." He stated plainly as he pulled out the old bouquet of flowers Ben had brought you the week before. He poured out the stagnant water and replenished it with some from the bottle of water he'd stashed in his pack. Then, just as you had shown him on one of the many evenings you'd spent together, he arranged them carefully, sure to make sure they were just how you would have liked them. 

"I'm sorry I haven't visited sooner." He said as he got to his feet and rubbed the back of his neck nervously "Things have been busy with the baby and work... Don't want to bore you with the details but ya know... It's been hard." He let out a long sigh as he scraped his hand over his face to wipe away the traitorous tears that tracked down his cheeks "Esme's getting so big so fast." He continued "You should see her Titch, the spitting image of you! With the addition of my hair and eyes." He chuckled. 

His eyes traced over the words carved into your headstone. 

The words Here Lies carved in an elegant font followed by your first name and last name, 'Titch' at the end by request of Ben

Friend and Mother 

Forever loved

Never forgotten

Ben had selected the words. Frankie hadn't been able to bring himself to do it so the younger Miller had stepped up. Taking the 'anything I can do to help' statement he'd made to Fish when you'd died so literally. 

"Seeing you everywhere is killing me Titch." Frankie said after a short pause "Is this what you meant? Come to me, did you mean this? Because I am wracking my brains baby, trying to understand what it is you want from me." He sobbed "The guys all think I'm losing the plot but I know you're there. Just out of eyeshot or something and I know you're trying to tell me something so please... help me understand Titch." 

He paused, his eyes locked on the headstone as he let out a shaky breath before pleading one last time. 

"Please..." 

"Frankie." Your voice made him just and his head shot up, scanning the surroundings for you. 

"Frankie please..." You pleaded "Please don't leave me." 

No matter where he looked he couldn't see you. But he could hear you like you were right beside him. 

"What do you mean?" He begged, tears openly spilling down his cheeks "I'm here Titch... Baby I'm here!" 

"Please don't leave me, Frankie." You repeat, your tone breaking his heart as he desperately looked for you among the headstones "I can't do this without you." 

This statement let Frank's brows draw together. What did you mean by that? He was the one who'd been left behind. Your pleads disappeared like smoke on the wind and Frankie was left with the sound of his own breathing and the rattling of branches. He pressed his palms firmly against his eyes as he tried to slow his breathing, his pounding heart hammering against his ribs. 

"I can't do this." He whispered to no one in particular, allowing the dam to break "Fuck I can't... I can't cope with this." 

You didn't say anything else and Frankie audibly groaned before pushing himself to his feet. He didn't understand why you were doing this. Torturing him. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take. 

...

"Well, ain't that better Lil' Titch?" Ben said as he finished fastening her babygrow "Uncle Ben's not so bad at this huh?" 

Esme smiled in reply, her legs kicking and arms waving in visible excitement before he scooped her into his arms and planted a big kiss on her cheek. She settled quickly on his shoulder and he smiled as she let out a little sigh and closed her eyes, falling asleep almost instantly. 

"Shit Titch... I wish you could see how perfect she is." He whispered as he placed a kiss on the infant's brow.

"Hands off... she's mine." Frank teased as he walked into the lounge, grinning as his best friend cuddled his daughter so closely.

"You gotta share the baby Fish!." Ben chuckled as he gently gingerly sat on the couch. 

“Yeah, yeah...” Frank grumbled as he waved off his friend, traipsing to the kitchen to fetch a beer. 

“How’d it go?” Ben asked when the older man reappeared, giving him a sympathetic smile as he watched him sit on the armchair across from him. 

“How’d what go?”

“Seeing Titch!” 

“Was fine.” Frankie shrugged, fooling no one once again. 

“There’s something you’re not telling me.” Ben pushed and Frankie groaned. 

“Ben…”

“You gotta talk about this shit man!” Ben pushed, pleading with his eyes for his friend to just open up to him. 

“You won’t believe me!” 

“Why would you-“

“I heard Titch again.” Frank snapped, keeping his voice low so he didn’t wake his baby. 

“What do you mean you heard her?” 

“I keep hearing her talking to me. Sometimes I see her and she always says the same thing!”

“Which is?” 

"To go back to her." Frank replied, scraping a shaky hand over his face. 

"Go back to her?"

"Yes, Ben!" He snarled "And today she was begging me not to leave her!" He choked "But she left me Ben!... I loved her and she left me all alone..." He trailed off as he broke down into tears, head in his hands. 

Ben got up and placed Esme in her Moses basket with practised ease before sitting on the arm of the chair Frank was sitting in and pulling him close. 

"I can't do this..." He sobbed and Ben sighed "I don't know what she wants from me." 

"Fish... this is just your brain's way of holding onto her." Ben sighed "We all deal with grief in different ways... Shit, I keep listening to the last voicemail she left me over and over again just so I don't forget her voice!" 

"No!" Frank all but shrieked "That's not what this is Ben! It's her I know it is!" 

"You can't seriously believe Titch is haunting you, man!" Ben sighed as he stood up to check on Esme as she started to fuss. 

"I don't know how else to explain it, Ben!" He growled "I keep seeing her everywhere and she keeps repeating the same thing over and over!" 

"Fish-" 

"But then today she said something different." Frankie interrupted " She begged me not to leave her... Told me she couldn't do this without me..." He trailed off whilst nervously pacing his lounge "What does that even mean? She can't do this without me... She can't be dead without me? Doesn't make any fucking sense!" 

"Fish... Man, you need to calm down!" Ben pleaded, noting how breathless the pilot has suddenly become "This won't be doing your heart any good man!" 

"My heart's fine!" The older man grumbled.

"You say that but this can't be good for you!" Ben warned "Just take a breath man... I believe you, okay! I believe you saw her." 

"You're just saying that." Fish scoffed, rolling his eyes when Ben frantically shook his head. 

"I'm really not okay!" The younger man pleaded "Just... Just please." 

Frankie sighed as he ran a shaky hand through his mussed hair. His eyes then drifted to Esme who was staring over at him with her large, teary eyes. His heart ached and he was quick to scoop her up into his arms and lay a soothing kiss on the crown of her head. 

"I'm sorry baby girl." He whispered as he bounced her gently in his arms "I just miss your mummy so much." 

"We all do brother." Ben said as he placed a comforting hand on Frankie's back "I'm not trying to say that I even remotely understand the pain you're feeling brother but know that I miss her so much it hurts... And that I am here! Whatever you need..." 

Frankie nodded, giving his friend a weak smile before resting his cheek on the top of Esme's head. 

"I know Ben." He said softly "Thanks." 

"Any time." Ben replied, giving his friend a friendly wink before grabbing his stuff to leave "See you tomorrow for dinner yeah?" 

"Sure." The pilot replied softly "See you then." 

...

"Why the fuck did you pick a restaurant that didn't have a parking lot asshole!" Ben grumbled as he pushed Esme's pram along the pavement, the steep hill making it a little harder. 

"It had good reviews okay!" Will grumbled, "It's not that bad!" 

"You're not the one pushing a pram up a 90-degree hill!" Ben grumbled, pulling a smirk from Frankie. 

"You offered brother!" Frank pointed out, sniggering at the groan that he received in reply "I can take her if you're struggling."

"I am not struggling!" Ben argued and Fish threw his hands up in surrender.

"We're nearly there!" Will piped up "Just across the street."

The three of them reached the crossing, breathing a small sigh of relief when the restaurant came into view. Will crossed first with Ben following closely behind him. Something had distracted Frankie, leading him to step out a few steps behind his friends but your voice calling his name stopped him in his tracks and he looked to his left, your figure illuminated by a bright white light. 

"Come back to me." You pleaded as you always did and Frankie froze. Tears sprouted as he looked at you smiling back at him as you held your hand out to him "Come back to me." 

You disappeared as quickly as you appeared, a horn sounding before Ben screamed his name. Then suddenly he was flying for a brief moment before his body connected with something solid and he rolled over it before hitting the ground with a sickening crunch. 

"FISH!!" Ben screamed as he ran to the pilot's side, hands shaking as he took in his friend's condition "Fish stay with me." He choked as he saw how bent and broken the older man looked.

Frankie winced as he turned his head, noting how Will was standing with the pram as he frantically spoke to who he assumed was the emergency service on his phone. He also noted that the driver who had hit him was nowhere to be seen. 

Hit and run. 

"Ben." He coughed after he spoke, blood filling his throat at an alarming rate. 

"Shhhh." He hushed the man and stroked his hair, desperately trying to keep himself together "Just keep breathing for my Fishsticks!" He pleaded 'Please don't leave me..."

His last statement blended into yours. He could hear you again, pleading not to leave you and he only felt more confused. He was dying... it was clear that he was so surely he was going back to you. 

Surely you should be happy?

"Please, Frankie... Please don't leave me." 

You pleaded... your voice shaky. 

"I'm coming Titch." He whispered. His eyes fell shut as darkness took him. 

"What's happening?" You sobbed as hands moved you from the room.

"He's crashing!" Stated someone in the room and you shook your head as you were pushed into the hallway, still able to see everything through the glass walls of Frankie's room. 

"Please, Frankie... Please don't leave me." You sobbed "Please..." 

Another set of hands pulled you away but not before you witnessed them shock the man you loved, desperately trying to restart the heart that was supposed to save him. You were placed in a room where you had spent more time than you cared to remember in the past month and a half. Hours sat waiting for news on whether Frankie was going to pull through. 

He'd gotten the heart he so desperately needed yet for close to two months he'd been in a coma, fighting battle after battle. This was just the latest in a long list of complications he'd suffered. 

Kidney Failure... Infection... His body had even rejected the donor heart but that was something they had managed to detect early. It seemed his body just refused to get better, even if his mind wasn't willing to let go. 

"What's happening?" Asked Ben as he stepped into the room after being directed here by a nurse, his brows tightly drawn in concern. 

"He crashed." You sobbed as you threw your head into your hands.

"What?... What caused it?" 

"I don't know." You replied, shaking your head "They dragged me in here as they tried to bring him back... I haven't heard anything yet." 

Ben nodded solemnly as he sat down beside you, handing you Esme when you held your arms out to receive her. You needed to hold your baby. 

"Why won't he get better Ben?" You sobbed as your eyes locked with his.

"He's really poorly." He replied softly "He needs time to get better." 

"But that's just it... He's not getting better!" 

"He will, Titch." Ben assured you and you sighed. 

"How do you know that?" 

"Because he's got something to fight for." He stated plainly. 

The two of you then sat in that room for what felt like hours, glad of Esme to keep you somewhat distracted from what the outcome of this latest setback might be. The doctor appeared sometime later. His expression was difficult to read. 

"How is he Doc?" Ben asked, holding your free hand tightly in his. 

"We managed to bring him back." The doctor announced, "He's weak and we have had to up his anti-rejection meds." 

"He's rejecting the heart again?" 

"He never technically stopped." The doctor stated "We have been able to keep it under control with medication. He seems to be responding well though and we're hopeful." 

You both breathed a simultaneous sigh of relief, glad that finally, something was going right. 

"There's something else though." The doctor stated and both you and Ben shared a grim glance before looking at the doctor again. 

"What is it?" You asked, your voice shaking slightly. 

"He's awake." 

Next

For updates follow @albertasunrise-ficsblog

[ivylation]

Love in Chaos (Carlos Olivera x Reader)

Tws- mentions of blood

2nd post, hope you enjoy <3 ill be writing alot carlos in the future so lmk whatd you want you want to see with him !!

-----

You and Carlos both faced the dangers of Raccoon City side by side, Carlos's confident flirtatious tendencies and your quiet self created an almost movie like relationship. He would throw cringey pickup lines your way, met with bright red faces, small giggles, and occasional eye rolls at his worst lines. Amidst the chaos he never stops throwing jokes at you, he lives to see you smile, you just didn't know that.

One evening, as the setting sun painted the broken skyline in hues of orange and pink, you and Carlos found yourselves on the rooftop of an abandoned building. The air is thick with smoke and an almost calming sensation, which is rare in the chaos filled time.

Carlos, true to his nature, leaned in with an exaggerated flourish. "You know," he began, both gazes kept locked on the setting sun in front of you both. “You look really cute today” you turn to him caught off guard by the sudden compliment,  “you say that everyday” you roll your eyes, ears pink. Carlos still looking at they sky, his dark shaggy hair blowing in the soft breeze. “Thats because youre cute everyday” he shrugs and turns his head to look down at you. “Bullshit” you smile softly “im covered with mud and blood” you look down at your bruised body thats full of a mix of yours and the victims of your knife.

His gaze softens as he takes in the sight of you. "Even with the mud and blood, you manage to be the most captivating thing in this city," he says, his tone sincere. Carlos reaches over, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a gentle touch. You always assumed he was joking but something felt different this time,the look in his eyes, he was being serious. 

You gained a small crush on the large man over the weeks of being together, how could you not? He had dark eyes that seemed to only soften on you, he was funny, determined and kind and holy shit was he hot. His large arms as he held his gun to fight off the zombies that suddenly caught you off guard, his pretty skin that is coated with shine due to the fires. His large hands as they gripped your wrists to pull you out of dangers way. He was hot. Like really hot.

You never pursued the crush and pushed it out of your mind as there was a literal zombie apocalypse happening and there was no time for a silly little crush. That was hard when you see the man everyday.  

You can't help but blush at his words, a mixture of embarrassment and appreciation filling your chest. The apocalypse had left its mark on both of you, physically and emotionally, yet Carlos's unrelenting flattery remained a constant; it made you feel validated and loved even when you're at your lowest of lows.

"I mean it," he continues, his eyes tracing the contours of your face. "You're like a survivor goddess amidst all this chaos. Mud and blood included."

You chuckle, couldn't help but cringe a little  at his use of words, still a bit bashful under his gaze. "Survivor goddess, huh? I'm not sure about that."

Carlos nudges you playfully. "Oh, absolutely. You fight off zombies and still manage to look adorable. It's a rare talent."

You shake your head, smiling at his antics. "Well, if I'm a survivor goddess, you're the charming rogue who keeps distracting me with compliments."

He grins, leaning in once more, this time planting a soft kiss on your lips. "Guilty as charged," he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. You just stared at him, taken aback, your face bright red and hot. You knew there was no passing over this crush. 

 As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the broken city, you couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth in your heart. In the midst of the apocalypse, amidst mud, blood, and chaos, there was an unexpected connection that transcended the grim reality--one Carlos Olivera himself created.

_____

[calmcal]

roommate adjacent -steve harrington

PART ONE - UNEXPECTED VISITORS

summary: A comprehensive list of why Robin Buckley is the best roommate in all of history; written by Y/N (and Robin Buckley....) one: she has the best movie recommendations for any mood, in all genres, for anytime of the year. two: she has a killer sense of fashion, total grunge/rock and roller/thrift store buying chic. three: she's not afraid to call anyone out on their dingus behaviours (and it happens a lot... hey!) and finally: her best friend steve...yeah. pairing: modern steve harrington x fem!reader word count: 2.9k note: hi, yes, welcome! this has been sitting in my drafts for far to long, it's been on my mind far longer than i'd care to admit. so i finally sat down and planned it all out, so enjoy this purely self indulgent steve fic I have literally fallen in love with! this first part is a little short, with very little steve, but i promise it get's better, so bare with me!

There's a universal hatred that's shared between those who can't drive, stormy weather. It's a common enemy they all share, the threatening grey clouds that loom over everyone, cackling at the thought of downpouring on some poor unexpecting souls. Drenching their clothes, soaking them to the bone, sticking them with the dreaded shivers and in worse case scenarios, gifting them with the god awful flu.

Yes it's a formidable foe.

One you were currently battling.

And loosing rather pitifully.

You held an umbrella tight in your hands, air whipping around you like a whirlwind, threatening to blow you down with a single gust. Well that might have been over exaggerating, but it was well within range to rip the umbrella from your iron grip. Splattering raindrops fell heavily on the small plastic tarp that made up the umbrella, sloshing down the pointed top and landing around your feet in little puddles. Stray drops slipping onto her cheeks, coating your skin with a sheen of cold water.

A shiver passed over your spine, winter was finally settling into your cozy little college town, and the weather was coming in full force. You wouldn't have been surprised if it started snowing tomorrow, but that was another battle, right now, you were more concerned with making it back to your dorm room in once piece.

And hopefully, mostly dry.

But it seemed the sky gods heard your hopeful pleas, and in your attempt in keeping dry, another strong gust blew your umbrella straight up, bending the little metal rods holding the plastic top covering your head, blowing back and exposing your entire body to the onslaught of rain.

"Crap!" You cried out, trying to reign in your clearly out of control umbrella.

But the wind had other ideas, blowing and bellowing around you, like it was laughing at your attempt. You tried to pry the arms of the umbrella back the right way, the way it was supposed to look, but the frail little arms screeched out in protest, wanting to follow the current of the wind, rather than your hand.

You grumbled a few nasty curse words at the umbrella, fulling knowing it wasn't going to cooperate.

You looked in the direction of your building, it wasn't far, another two minutes or so, you contemplated the thought of just making a run for it, leaving your umbrella behind, or standing there like a dingus, trying to fix something that was clearly broken for good.

The rain was splattering down heavier now, flattening your hair to your head, making it a little difficult to see, making your clothes stick to your shivering skin, goosebumps raising on every inch of exposed skin.

You bit your lip, thinking for a moment.

"Stupid piece of plastic" You spat at the umbrella, throwing it at your feet, like the offending pieces of metal and plastic had scorned you. "Can't even do the one job you were made for"

No one would blame you for leaving the umbrella on the walkway, clearly noticing the broken arms and upside down cone. No one was going to condemn you for littering, it's an act of kindness really, more than the umbrella deserved.

You hiked your back further up your shoulder, crossing your arms over your chest, tilting your head down a little. It did little to keep you dry, but you were a lost cause the moment your umbrella died, you'd given up on keeping dry. You made quick and precise steps towards your building, ignoring the chill that is slowly settling into your skin.

As if tormenting you, a clap of thunder boomed from somewhere behind you, and the rain followed tenfold, pelting you with icy drops of water.

"Shit!" You muttered, using your hands to cover your head from their harsh impact.

Now you were making a run for it.

Forget keeping equal steps to keep from slipping in the puddles that lined the sidewalk, you didn't care anymore, you needed to get out of the storm before the clouds decided they wanted to drown you in the middle of your college campus.

With a huffing laugh you reached the building, pulling the thick wooden doors open with a strength you didn't know you possessed. Warm air whipping around your water slicked skin, goosebumps returning. You took a deep breath, inhaling the warm air, filling your lungs.

You trudged up the stairs to the third floor, the elevator seemingly always out of order, you seriously cursed this day. Puddles formed around your feet with every step you took, squelching under your boots, making you cringe, thinking about the poor person who had to use the stairs after you, stepping into a wet surprise.

It was only water, they'd be fine, right?

You didn't care anymore, all you cared about was getting back to your dorm and getting out of these stupidly drenched clothes.

You breathed out a sigh of pure delight at the sight of your door, decorated with a whiteboard, your roommates squiggly writing covering the white backdrop.

Be back soon, meeting up with a friend, love Robin ❤️

You felt glad that Robin wasn't in the room, the last thing you needed was your roommate laughing at your misfortune. She'd do it out of love, obviously, but unnecessary love.

Having Robin Buckley as a roommate was a blessing. You'd been so scared that you'd have to share a small room with someone you didn't like, someone who didn't know personal boundaries, who didn't know how to keep a clean room or possibly even worse, someone who was obnoxiously boring.

But on the first day, you got stuck with Robin. A girl who was socially awkward and charmingly outgoing at the same time. She'd talked your ear off the first minute you met her, before falling silent when she realised you hadn't even introduced yourself to her. You loved her the moment you met, couldn't have asked for a better roommate.

She shared her love of movies with you, having the most expansive collection of movies on a hard drive, everything from the biggest blockbuster of all time, to weird indie movies in different languages. She had an expressive way of dressing, one day she'd wearing clashing colours of yellow pink, collared shirts with blocky stripes, khaki pants that you were sure didn't belong to her (they were like two sizes too big), to wearing black on black, chunky bracelets, layers of necklaces decorating her neck, black pleated skirts paired with ripped tights. On any given day, it was always a surprise; what Robin was going to wear.

You loved her confidence.

But with her confidence grew with you, the more she felt comfortable on calling you out on your 'dingus behaviours', a favourite of Robin's creative pass times. She didn't do it often, and she was well within her right when she did it.

Coming into your shared room, dripping wet, a dingus move indeed.

You were really glad she wasn't home right now.

You, with much difficulty, unlocked the door. You slung your bag off your shoulder, letting it plop down on the floor beside the door, ignoring the plopping sound that followed, following your slightly less damp boots, with a heavy thud. Trying to peel your coat from your soaking wet body, a different story, the fabric ignoring your pleas to cooperate. Clinging to you like a second skin, heavy with water.

With a huff, a lot of tugging and pulling, and a few jumps here and there, your coat finally fell from your body, landing on the floor with your bag.

"I hate the rain" You muttered to yourself, hanging the coat on the coat rack.

You trudged further into the room, bypassing the couch and the little kitchenet, heading straight for the small bathroom. You switched of the flickering light, waiting for a second, before the tiled room was lit up with dim yellow light.

You looked at your reflection in the mirror.

Gah!

Well, you've certainly looked better.

Your hair was plastered to your forehead, stray strands sticking to your damp cheeks. Your white sweater was clinging to you, like a fluffy second skin, weighing you down by half a pound. You were dreading trying to take that off, and you didn't even want to think about your drenched jeans.

Wet denim, what a nightmare.

You smoothed the strands of hair from your face, twisting your hair into a low ponytail, wringing the water from your hair into the sink.

"Hey, I'm back!" Robin's voice reached your ears, sounding like she'd swung the door wide open, probably expecting you to have been sitting on the couch. "Whoa, what's with the water park in the doorway?"

"Sorry" You called out in return, scrunching your sweater up, wringing the water out of that too, not that it did much.

You sighed, deciding it was better if you just took it off. You lifted the hem of the sweater from your body, cringing again as the fabric clung to your damp skin.

"Planning a fun extra curricular without me?" Robin's teasing remark followed.

"Funny" You muttered, pulling the fabric halfway up your torso, tugging harshly, pulling left and right to loosen the sweater, huffing, a little out of breath. "I'm calling it, this has literally been the worst day of my life"

"Feeling over dramatic are we?" Robin chuckled, her voice sounding a little closer now.

"I feel I deserve the right to be over dramatic" Your voice was muffled by your sweater, having got it over your chest, now the neck was stuck.

You gave a little tug, wincing a little as it gave a little struggle, but a tug and a wiggle allowed it to give way, leaving you clad in your wet jeans, semi dry white cotton bra, and a sweater that continued to drip on the tile floor held in your hands.

"My umbrella decided to die on me, right at the moment the rain kicked up a notch, not to mention the wind, totally uncool" You continued after taking the sweater off, throwing it in the washing basket, a problem for future Y/N.

You took a towel from the hanger, swiping it across your skin, trying your best to dry yourself off, before turning your attention to your hair, wrapping the scratching fabric around the dripping strands, the towel sitting tall atop your head.

"I keep telling you, you need to get your licence" Robin's singsong tone teased.

"Yeah, cause I'm gonna take advice from my roommate, who also doesn't have a licence" You retorted playfully, switching the bathroom light off.

"Yeah, and if you get yours, you can take me places instead" Robin matter of factly replied, sounding smug in her idea. "It's a win, win"

"For you maybe" You muttered, feeling gross still wearing your wet jeans. "I've decided that wet denim was invented by satan, just to torture me"

Robin snorted.

You rounded the corner, not looking in Robin's direction, so used to walking around your roommate in a half state of dress. Robin had become accustomed to the act very quickly, living in such close quarters with someone, got you comfortable rather quickly, alarmingly so.

"Seriously, it's itchy, and it just sticks to you in all the wrong places" You whined, looking through the clean piles of clothes you left on the back of the couch, looking for a pair of your pajama pants.

"So, don't wear jeans when it rains"

"Hilarious, become a comedian would ya?"

"It's my backup plan, you know, if this whole college thing doesn't work out"

"You've got potential"

"Clearly"

"Your overconfident too, it works"

"Maybe you should put some more clothes on, I think you're freaking Steve out" Robin sounded like she was holding back a cackle.

You paused, lifting your eyes from the pile of clothes in your hands, to see Robin standing in the kitchenet, but she wasn't alone.

Steve, Robin's best friend, a man you've met only a handful of times, was standing beside Robin. Trying his best to look anywhere but your half dressed figure, cheeks turning a bright shade of red, arms crossed over his chest as he tried his best to act nonchalant, shifting his weight from his left leg, to his right.

You took a moment to admire him, what with him avoiding all eye contact. Taking in the way his hair seemingly flopped just the right way, brown strands looking perfectly styled, but in a way that one might mistake it for an effortless look. He was wearing a dark blue t-shirt, a shirt that stretched right across his broad shoulders, looking a little tight around his chest, biceps peeking out of the sleeve, giving you a free show of his tensed muscles. His shirt was tucked into a pair of blue jeans, black belt separating the two tones of blue, a white and grey windbreaker was tied around his waist.

The outfit shouldn't have looked at good, but Steve seemed to make it work... he made it look cute.

All taunt and lean figure just leaning against the stove.

"Sorry Steve" You replied, feeling your cheeks warm.

"It's cool, it's your room, so whatever... Not whatever, I mean, you can undress all you want, NO, wait--" Steve stumbled over his words, still trying to not look at you, but he slipped up a few times, eyes trailing over her half dresses torso, cheeks turning even redder each time.

"Dingus" Robin muttered.

"I'm just... I'm gonna go and get changed, in my room" You replied, feeling embarrassed.

"Good, this is common space, respect it" Robin joked.

"Shut up" You retorted, taking your clothes in your arms, flinging your hand back, flipping your roommate off, which brought out the cackle Robin was stuffing back.

You huffed.

So much for that impression.

Steve probably though you were crazy.

All the talk of wet jeans and your stupid umbrella story, you wouldn't blame Steve for thinking you're out of your mind, who still had a little twinge of pink on his cheeks and couldn't quite make eye contact with you.

You tried your best to shake the thoughts from your mind, heading to your room, to change, and quite possibly bury yourself under your covers, never to be seen again.

"What was that?"

It wasn't the sound of Robin's shill voice that made Steve jump, it was the harsh slap that followed the question. Her palm slapping right across his arm, a harsh smacking sound rang though his ears.

"Ow!" Steve exclaimed, cupping his assaulted arm. "W-what was that for?!"

"For ogling my roommate like she's walking porn" Robin remarked with a knowing look, raising a brow.

"That wasn't what happened and you know it" Steve's eyes narrowed, looking at Robin with an annoyance she acquainted with his motherly persona.

"It's what it looked like from here"

Steve huffed, knowing no matter what he said, Robin was going to argue back tenfold with him, it was one of the few things she was good at.

"I didn't even look at her, I was being a gentleman" Steve narrowed his eyes, letting Robin know, this wasn't up for debate anymore.

"After you stared at her boobs for like, a whole minute" Robin muttered, pushing Steve with her shoulder, walking away from the taller man, practically throwing herself on the couch.

"That didn't happen!" Steve shouted, pointing a finger at Robin.

"Sure it didn't Stevie" Robin hummed, looking to smug for her own good.

Robin was only making this a big deal because Steve had mentioned, on a few occasions, that he thought her roommate was cute. He'd often ask Robin how you were, how college was treating the both of you, but paying keen attention whenever she mentioned you. Allowing his eyes to linger on you, the very few times he saw you in person, never having the courage to say more than a few words to you (something Robin torments him with on the daily, his lack of skills with women). He'd even made the grave mistake of asking Robin if you were single once, she couldn't stop gushing over his little crush on you, she never let him forget it.

But it wasn't a crush.

It wasn't!

Steve didn't know you well enough to put a name to whatever it was he was feeling, it certainly wasn't a crush. But he'd be lying if he didn't think you were insanely attractive, and seeing you in a pair of jeans that looked like a second skin stuck to your thighs, making your butt look all the more fuller and perky. Not to mention the bra, if Steve thought about it too long, he was sure he was going to pitch a tent. If he closed his eyes, he could picture your smooth skin, all supple and glistening with droplets of water. The cotton bra wasn't fancy, but it made your breasts look perky and ready for his awaiting hands--

No, stop it!

Steve shook his head, a little harder than he intended, to try and shake the thoughts of you from his mind.

The last thing he needed was for you to come back into the room and see Steve standing in your little kitchenet with a boner.

Yeah, that wasn't going to get him anywhere.

"She lives!" Robin's voice brought him back for good.

"Reluctantly so" Your soft voice returned the humour, throwing yourself onto the other end of the couch, still a little flustered, courtesy of Steve.

You turned your head, making eye contact with Steve. You gave a subtle smile, tilting your head.

"It's fine Steve, really" You shook your head, as if reading his inner thoughts. "It's not a big deal, forgotten already"

[reasonsmandy]

Gold dust woman

Eddie Roundtree x Fem!Reader

✧.* requested by @accidrainonme — if you made one based off of gold dust woman by fleetwood mac i’d go insane omg

✧.* summary — Eddie has been dealing with a lot lately, and after getting his heart broken he goes in search of the only person in the world who brings him peace: you.

✧.* warnings — Heartbroken Eddie :(((

✧.* word count — 1.5k

✧.* 🎸 — Eddie's masterlist

✧.* mandy's notes — I tried a lot to do something faithful to the music, I don't know if I succeeded but I really liked the result. Hope you like it too :)

Eddie had been through the hardest week of his life, Billy as always was being the biggest asshole in the world and the fact that he didn't solve things with Camila only made everything worse. The bassist had been in love with her for many years and that day seeing her so wonderful, looking stunning next to someone like Billy had made everything worse.

After a show they were all celebrating in Daisy's room, Warren looked super excited singing the song in the background, Graham was having fun talking to another group of people, and Karen was dancing with Daisy.

Roundtree couldn't stop thinking about the frustration he felt seeing the woman he loved next to the person he hated the most, he didn't understand how someone like Billy had everything he wanted.

And now he found himself isolated from the others, sitting in a chair while trying to hold back his tears. The conversation he had with Camila earlier tore his heart apart, all he wanted was to show her that he could make her happier, but that wasn't what she wanted so there wasn't much he could do, despite watching her from afar.

Watching her dance with him made him want to throw chlorine in his eyes, and when he couldn't take it anymore he decided to leave that place. He gets up still with the same beer in hand, going down the stairs with the intention of walking aimlessly around, he didn't know why everything cooperated for him to feel so insignificant, he started little by little to believe in all that.

The bassist took a sip from his bottle as he walked down the dimly lit street, and while he wandered in his thoughts, he remembered that a few blocks away you would probably be lying on your couch watching some random show. So, thinking of relieving his mind of all the chaos that surrounded it, he starts walking towards your apartment.

On the other hand you were having an extremely generic night, nothing new had happened in the last few hours so you decided to spend the rest of your time doing a movie night. You were ready to prepare some snacks and lie down in front of the television so as not to get up until the next day. As soon as everything is ready you sit on the couch and almost automatically your doorbell rings, you arch an eyebrow and bring your gaze to the clock... You sure as hell weren't expecting anyone at ten o'clock at night.

Leaving your bowl of snacks on the sofa, you head towards the door, opening it to find a crestfallen Eddie. You were immediately concerned, you had known Eddie for a few years and you knew that lately things weren't great for him - which broke your heart - You cared a lot about him and knew he didn't deserve what life did to him.

"Eddie love, what happened?" You say holding his hand, and pulling him inside the apartment.

"I'm exhausted Y/N" he says, bringing his hands to his face in frustration. "I can't understand how he gets everything he wants! He is literally the most selfish person in the world and nobody seems to notice it."

"What happened?" You say, hugging him.

"Cami, she…" He can't hold it anymore, he starts to cry. "Am I that insignificant? She discarded me like I was nothing"

"Of course not Eddie" You say, wiping the tears from his face. "You deserve so much more, and if these people don't recognize that, they're crazy."

"I can't understand" He looked very exhausted, you knew how much he charged himself for all this and you couldn't stand to see him in that situation.

"Maybe you need a change..." You say, catching the man's attention. "This whole environment, even though dear to you, is not good for you, my love."

"I can't just…" he starts to say, but the urge to cry invades him again. "I can't just leave them"

"I know it's hard, but it doesn't mean it'll be forever." You say calmly, patiently waiting for him to calm down. "You don't have to disappear from their lives, you just have to respect your time. You must understand that you have the right to be upset about all this, you have feelings too…"

He remains silent, so you decide to continue.

"I see that it hurts you so much, and yet you keep trying to give it all a chance." You approach him, holding his hands. "I understand your love for them and that it can be really hard to let go of something so important, but it's costing you your happiness."

"I won't make it without them" He looks at you with puffy eyes, being honest with everything he kept to himself. "I'm nothing without them, I feel like everything I ever thought I was good at was a grand illusion."

He closes his eyes, letting a few more tears fall.

"I thought when she gave me that chance that night, for once things were going to work out."

Roundtree watches you intently, as if he wants to believe your words more than anything else. Seeing him in that situation broke your heart, even more so when you knew you could love him the way she couldn't. Eddie had become an extremely special person to you throughout your friendship, you have never stopped talking since he arrived in LA and from the beginning you knew what a great talent that man had, and how music was his passion.

When he called you telling you that Billy had changed every moment of him on the album you couldn't believe it, you couldn't understand how someone could be so selfish. You called him to your apartment so he could stay away from Billy during his time off until the tour started, and that's what he did.

Eddie and you spent that time sharing your apartment, most days you watched movies, danced to the records you had, cooked whatever junk food you wanted, and some days you even invited Warren to spend time with you. That time brought you much closer together, and it also contributed to increasing the passion you felt for him.

Talking about talent for you was like talking about him, it was impossible to imagine someone more talented and passionate than Eddie Roundtree, you always knew how dedicated he is to his work, and the sparkle in his eyes when he talked about it was priceless. And that's exactly how you wanted to see him, you wanted him to link his work, his music with that passion and joy that he conveyed. But over time, all those frustrations made that sparkle in his eyes disappear, he didn't talk with joy about it, he wasn't proud of himself anymore.

You knew about his love for Camila, and you also knew about the affair they had that day. You knew very well that she was very special to him, after all, they basically grew up together and he nurtured that love for her for years. He still hadn't told you what she said to make him like this, but you were sure she had broken his heart. It was really hard for him to open up to someone like he did to you, he hated looking vulnerable anyway, so you were kind of speechless when he started crying before he even spoke.

"You know I consider you the most talented person on earth, right?" You smile, brushing a few strands of hair out of his face. "I don't know what she told you, but you need to know that you are so much more than a replacement…"

"I wanted so much to believe in you" Frustrated he replies, letting out a sigh. "I love her, Y/N"

"I know my love" Your heart clenched as you saw his eyes fill with tears once more. "But do you understand that love doesn't have to hurt like that?"

He looks at you, silently waiting for you to continue.

"Eddie, love has to be something that makes you feel fulfilled, happy, that doesn't cause you any frustration or anguish." Your hands hold his lovingly, and your eyes go down to your intertwined fingers. "You know you can count on me, right?"

"I don't know what I would be without you" He says letting out a sigh, letting go of your hands he lays on your lap. "I'm so broken, why would you want to deal with me?"

"I'm always here to help you to pick up your pieces" You reply, ruffling his hair. "You can always come home, my home is yours my love."

"Home is wherever you are" He mutters, closing his weary eyes from crying. "Thanks for so much, really"

"Don't mention it" You whisper, noticing his body relaxes under your touch.

Eddie Roundtree: I don't have words to describe how important she is to me, but I can assure you that after that day she completely changed the meaning of love for me.

...

Hi, I hope you enjoyed it... If you wanted to ask for something my requests are open, and if you want to ask and don't have any ideas check out my prompt list :) xoxo

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[sorryimananti-romantic]

i've been reading fanfictions and online novels for so many years (too many really) and for a very long time there was one common event or phenomena within the writing community that i never experienced myself: finding that ONE fictional novel that you will never let go, whose plot just will not leave your mind and you come back to reading it over and over again like you're a broken record.

most of my time in the recent weeks was spent commuting across country and when's a better time than to read fiction all by my lone self? trains, busses and bustling fading into the background and acting as a form of white noise. (blame it on growing up with ghibli)

tldr; i've picked up Horizon again lol

and i wanted to once again come here and extend all and every compliment towards you for writing (the entire series tbh!). it doesn't get old and it has once again sent me down an endless spiral of emotions even when i already know how it ends. how my adoration for the characters continue to grow is a mystery even to myself. and it's amazing how with every read-through, i find more and more clues and details to complete the bigger puzzle that i hadn't even picked up on during my first reads.

gotten so bad that i'll see the word Horizon, listen to the actual song Horizon and i can not stop myself from thinking about horizon!san and gaeul (also neve my baby).. google, can you be downbad for a fanfiction? asking for a friend.

getting lost in thoughts again and distracted by this universe, i have yet to bring up why i'm even writing this essay lol

after collecting my thoughts and my notes (and rambling a friend's ear off about the series and the universe and more..) i believe i have found that ONE fictional novel that i will never forget about and know will always end up coming back to - which is Horizon ♡

there's not much more to say other than just that, if i'm quite honest (otherwise we'd be here all night and i'm not willing to test if asks have a character limit lol)

but i do know that unless readers verbalize their thoughts and feelings for a piece of writing, the writer will never know the impact they might have had on someone else with something they wrote by themselves without expectations to reach such great distances and touch so many hearts (definitely mine). writers might be masterminds but even they can't read minds through a screen. (i hope..)

also as i am writing this, what a humorous coincidence that it's been exactly one year since the release of Horizon :') <33 happy one year ♡

all the hugs and kisses to you yumii 🩷 ○ chron

chron- 😭 first and foremost let me apologise bc i went to check if horizon really turned one year old today and foound your lovely feedback reblog that i. missed.???????? HOW DID I MISS THAT?? but also nice time discovering it bc after reading this ask and feeling some sort of way (emotional asf is what it is) i went on to read the reblog and i-

look, i'm really not an emotional person but i had to physically stop take a breather drink some water I DON'T CRY MUCH BUT THIS. THIS MAKES ME CRY 😭😭

and secondly, i love you so much 😭😭 your presence here and feedback and the encouragement and everything literally means so much to me you have no idea how good i'm feeling right now 😭 (be replying to the reblog on horizon soon btw i have no idea how i missed that gem)

i'm honestly beyond honoured. i don't know if you know but take me home/horizon lore is so so precious to me! it's literally my baby and i'm ngl i live in that lore. you'll catch me randomly thinking about it and coming with potential ideas for the future if i write another installment (honestly want to for every member one day) but horizon being that ficitonal novel for you? i'm clutching my heart rn 😭❤️

we're both ghibli kids hehe it's def been a solid influence on my imagination! ghibli movies were literally the first ones that i watched i'm glad my dad got me cds of them without having any idea what they were LMAO but the influence is there and i'm happy to find another ghibli enthusiast <3

and omgg finding more details on the sec read? ahaha that's lovely to hear :') i love how the fic horizon is now an additional with the song horizon for you hehe and neve, ugh. everyone's baby daddy neve :')

i'm honestly so thankful that you took the time to send this message, that you feel this way (and the reblog lord it's making me cry i'll reply to it soon too bc wow.) take me home was my first fic and i have no idea how i came up with the story (covid times, vacation, and first time worldbuilding was a dangerous combo lmao) and i honestly had zero plans for another installment in the lore but so many take me home san enthusiasts kept me engaged even long after take me home ended. thus horizon was born- i needed to do san justice after hinting that he and yena might have been sth.

horizon is my baby. i think horizon is one of my favs because i was ngl a big brain with how i extracted points from take me home to create the premise for horizon. like it's the most unplanned planned thing i've ever written? if that makes sense. i had a hard time coming up with twists but everytime i connected some event of horizon back to take me home i would literally evil smirk LMAO and i'm so glad you enjoyed it so much! it makes me feel proud that i wrote it 😭❤️

as you can tell i can talk about the lore forever. it was so fun to plan and write it and to find someone who appreciates it so much? literally in shambles rn. and to find this message and that reblog on the one year anniversary? god, i wish i could tell you how i'm feeling rn 😭❤️

again, thank you from the bottom of my heart! if i ever find the time to write another installment in that lore (idk if many will read it tho lmao but i could literally write another series for you) i think i'll def come to you for brainstorming :') i know the next one is going to be woo x darkling or yunho x some ice-user faerie (with more neve features bc they literally can't do this without him anymore LOL) and ahh i should stop writing now you're literally making me want to drop everything and start writing this ahaha

[dat2ndaccount97]

Obsessed Barbie Doll Fan/Collector talks about their doll free childhood:

With the Barbie Movie now out, me spending the past week exclusively playing with my dolls + engaging with doll related social media, and seeing people talk about their childhood Barbies/other dolls and sharing stories, has me thinking about my doll free childhood.

For those who may not know, despite how OBSESSED I am with dolls and barbie in particular. I didn't grow up with dolls or play with dolls as a kid, because of the ol' "boys can't play with dolls" gender roles BS, and also because I didn't realize I was into dolls for a long time. And both of those things kinda played into each other.

My earliest Doll related memory (that I have shared many times already) is when I was 3-5 Years old (in the early 00s), My mother took me to the KB Toys Outlet by our house which she regularly did. for whatever reason I didn't want another Batman action figure I wanted a Barbie. She was a Brunette Princess Barbie in a purple-ish dress IIRC. My mom said no, I threw I fit, My mom tried to calm me down and entice me with boy toys, I continued fitting, she caved and got her for me. Soon as we got home Doll was taken from me, I was not allowed to have her. This Memory stuck with me for years to come.

I have another memory of having a doll of Bubbles from The Powerpuff Girls (with molded on hair), and I have a vague memory of hearing the adults discuss if it was ok for me to have her. After that it's many close calls/short encounters with barbies and other dolls, where I was interested but couldn't really articulate why nor say I was interested because I was a boy, and dolls are for girls.

But I do remember distinctly playing with my girl cousin's fisher price (?) doll house at my aunts house, and a vague (possibly fake?) memory of me being at said aunt's place for the weekend while my cousins were away and my aunt saying i could play with their toys, which I didn't.

Between all of that and when I started secretly playing with my moms old dolls in middle school it was just seeing Doll Commercials on TV, and eventually discovering some photo site called Flickr and looking at doll pictures on there. But looking back on all of this and other vague memories and who I was as a kid, I'm now fairly sure I would've loved to play with Barbies and/or similar fashion dolls if I was allowed.

But because of those darn gender roles, I never really got chance/choice, to be able to even consider the possibility of me, a boy, being able to play with toys "For girls" without getting weird looks or being asked why (or possibly getting scolded or maybe even snapped or yelled at). It was something I kinda kept to myself until My parents found out I was playing with my mom's broken and ratty old barbie dolls in secret. Which they were ok with... for about a month and they said to put them away. Granted at 13/14 I couldn't really articulate into words why I liked dolls so much so they probably got the wrong idea.

And Because of the way my parents acted every time they found out about my dolls I kept it to myself for many years even as I got active on social media in the mid 2010s. But as I slowly came out about it, I realized it was really just my weird boomer parents who hated it. Literally everyone else i've told in my life that I collect barbies has been super cool/chill about it, and/or think it's really cool actually.

I'm also glad to see people are more and more accepting to the idea of boys playing with dolls, and you even see boys playing with barbies in some commercials and catalogue photos and etc. And maybe, just maybe, there's some kid out there like me with a bin of Batman action figures who suddenly wants a barbie from the toy store but unlike me actually gets to keep her and play with her and cherish her because his parents are cool.