#i will finish this if there is public demand but otherwise This Is What You Get

[cineresis]

Angels in America

It's amazing how fast an evening at your favorite club can be ruined by someone keeling over and frothing at the mouth. The band never quite gets back into the swing of things afterwards.

"Angel," sighed one of the men, or nearest approximants, at the table next to mine, "why is it that I can never go anywhere with you without stumbling across a body?"

"Oh, come now," said his partner, a soft, fluffy confection in caramel and cream, rising hastily to make his way toward the source of the commotion. The first gentleman, dark, lanky, and excruciatingly chic, got up to follow him. "It's hardly every time."

I stayed where I was for now, casting my gaze around the room as I went over my memory of the past twenty or thirty minutes. Too many people passing close enough to slip something into the victim's drink, too many others to watch at the same time, too many more opportunities to poison him outside my field of view. I was a detective, not God.

"Stumbling upon, once. Literally. Do you know what it's like to have to clean up after that sort of thing? It takes a personal toll."

"Hush, Crowley," chided "Angel". "People can hear you, and you know how queer they get about these things. Ooh, yes, that's strychnine, all right," he added cheerfully, pulling a small vial from his vest pocket and tipping it into his handkerchief. "Nasty stuff."

I got up. As I approached, I caught the faint, unmistakable chemical sweetness of ether fumes and gave them a wide berth, choosing instead to inspect the victim's plate and glass before turning to scan the room from this perspective.

"Now, just what might you be doing?" drawled Crowley.

I looked him over, too, while I was at it. In Crowley's case, this involved a lot of looking and not much over; he was easily more than six feet tall, even while slouching rakishly. The snake tattoo on his right temple suggested certain things about him. The dark glasses that he hadn't removed since he'd entered just suggested questions, since I highly doubted he was blind. "I'm a detective," I said, leaving the obviously at the end of that sentence to implication. "What are you doing?"

This response seemed to delight him. "So are we," Crowley answered, and grinned. "But if you want to get specific about it, I'm keeping you distracted while my friend saves this man's life. Let's see your license, then."

As I took it out, keeping at least one eye on him and his partner, Angel called out to the rubbernecking crowd around us, "I need someone here to run and call the nearest hospital, and a couple of strong men to help get this poor fellow someplace dark and quiet to rest. Best use one of the tablecloths for a stretcher," he added to the first volunteer who stepped forward.

Crowley leaned in closer to study my license. "Drake Silas Donovan," he read off. "'Silas', really?"

"What about it?"

"I've just always wondered what kind of parent would name their kid Silas."

"The kind who had a grandfather named Silas," I replied coolly, snagging my license back. "Your turn."

He obliged. Anthony J. Crowley, it read, licensed in London since 1905, the year before mine. I wondered how long he'd been at this; he looked too young for his apparent age, but then I looked too old for mine. "A. J. Crowley," I read his signature aloud. "Get asked if you're any relation every time, or just most?"

There's a certain motion a person's head makes when they roll their eyes. Crowley's was making it. "The man's an embarrassment to the side," he griped. "I made my name legitimately."

"And your friend?" It wasn't as if I couldn't put two and two together. There's a certain type of person who's got both a nose for trouble and the brains to prepare for it; if it walks, talks, and thinks like a dick, it probably is one. It was just that I wasn't in the habit of trusting people, and I'd be a real schmuck to neglect basic due diligence on the guy purportedly surrounded by bodies. 

Detectives are no better or worse than any other person. They just think it's usually more interesting to solve crimes than commit them.

"Oh, he's as legitimate as it gets." Crowley turned to his companion, who was getting to his feet, brushing his clothes off fussily. Beside him, the two volunteers hoisted the unconscious victim onto a tablecloth spread across the floor, momentarily dislodging the ether-soaked cloth before Angel caught it and laid it carefully back in place over the victim's nose and mouth. "Aren't you, Aziraphale?"

Angel — "Aziraphale"? — looked up, startled. "Pardon?"

"Mr. Donovan here wants to see your detective's license," Crowley explained, enunciating his words with malice aforethought.

"Oh! Yes. Of course I always have that with me. Now just where did I..." He started patting down his pockets, stopped suddenly, and took a lovely calfskin card holder out of his coat. "Ah. Here it is."

Beaming, he passed it to Crowley, who passed it to me with the comment, "You'll find everything in order, I'm sure."

I glanced down at the card, then back up at Angel. "Am I supposed to call you A. Z. Fell or Aziraphale?" I asked, pronouncing the Z correctly as zed.

"A. Z. Fell is how 'Aziraphale' is pronounced in the King's English," said Crowley blandly, affecting a cut-glass Oxford accent on the last phrase. His partner seemed pleased by this comment, rather than annoyed.

"I'm afraid my progenitor bestowed me with a rather unwieldy given name," Fell admitted, raising fascinating questions about just how many syllables the British peerage could fit on a birth certificate when they really tried. "Aziraphale just sounds so much more euphonious, don't you think?" Crowley was right; I couldn't tell whether Fell had meant to say A. Z. Fell or the de-accented gloss. He'd lengthened the half-syllable between zed and Fell to a full vowel, but some people said zetta.

"I wouldn't know," I replied, handing the license back to Crowley, who was nearest. When Fell didn't take my bait, I added, "Lucky that you happened to have ether handy. I wouldn't like to imagine what might've happened if you'd decided to stay in tonight." I also lied when I said sorry, and when I swore to tell the whole truth and nothing but. Little white lies are the oil in the gears of civilization.

"Oh, I always carry that, too," Fell explained earnestly. "One gets into the habit after one's first run-in with strychnine, and of course ether has so many useful applica—"

"I wouldn't, angel," Crowley interrupted, sounding very amused. "Mr. Donovan thinks you're the one behind this."

"Oh," said Fell, nonplussed. "Gosh. Well, I — I suppose I can't blame him. He doesn't know me from Adam, after all, and has no reason to trust me — I did warn you about giving people funny ideas, Crowley, honestly. Of course," Fell turned to me, laying an elegant hand across his chest, "if you were to search me, you would find only a small collection of antidotes — oh, but a habitual poisoner would probably carry those, too, especially if he were the sort of voyeur with a penchant for playing the hero. I certainly wouldn't be convinced of my innocence. Yes, I can certainly understand whatever suspicion you might feel towards me, however misplaced it may be."

Crowley watched this thought process with an expression somewhere between fascination and agony. "Well, at least now he probably thinks that if you'd done it, you'd have been caught by now," he remarked, presumably because he was thinking the same thing. "You'll have to excuse my friend," Crowley added to me. "He still believes that the innocent have nothing to fear. Somehow."

"First time visiting?" I guessed.

Fell's bemusement answered my question before he did. "Pardon?"

"Never mind."

[melminli]

Cold Coffee

pairing: young coriolanus snow x fem. reader

summery - you liked working, and someone else liked you working for them.

word count: 2k+

contains: young president coryo, crack, fluff, secretary reader, coryo being lovesick and shy

You had a routine. A routine that you strictly followed every day and it started with your alarm clock waking you up at 5 o'clock in the morning. The first thing you did was get up and go to the bathroom to wash the sleep off your face, otherwise you couldn't get anything done. After you had finished everything else concerning your hygiene, you continued with your outfit of the day.

You liked to play around a bit when it came to your fashion choices. After all, you were living in the Capitol. Your job still demanded a certain formality and professionalism, which is why you were perhaps not as free in your choice as others, but that wasn't a problem for you. You always managed to find something elegant to wear since you had all kinds of clothing in different colors and fabrics that were perfect for combining with various other items. Whether vests, suit jackets, skirts, trousers or everything all together, it was entirely up to your mood. (Even though combining everything together was something you hadn't done since your school days at the academy.).

Then the last thing left missing was your hair and maybe some make-up, before you could step out of the house with your pre-packed bag. After a 15-minute drive in your car, you would arrive a few minutes early and were able to go about your duties as planned until it was time to leave at around 4 pm (if you were lucky).

You've been doing this every day for three years. Every day. That may sound exhausting (because it is), but you were also kind of happy about it since missing work would just mean that you had more to do on the following one. You rarely got sick, but when you did it was usually nothing serious so you came to work anyway. On the two rare occasions when you were really seriously ill, you were once off work and once you were lucky (or unlucky) that it was at the time of several public holidays. So yes, you haven't missed a single day of work - until today.

Your alarm clock died in the middle of the night.

"...huh - what's happening?" You asked, slightly drowsy, and it felt like you'd been asleep for far too long, a suspicious amount of long. Your eyes glanced at the clock on your wall, and you had to concentrate to keep the image from blurring. "...It's a quarter past seven." You finally realized, before widening your eyes and jumping out of bed. "It's a quarter past seven! I'm going to be late!"

In your stress to get ready quickly, you decided to get dressed first and quickly picked something out before scurrying to the bathroom to get ready. That was your mistake because while being a bit too hectic when brushing your teeth, you were clumsy enough to get toothpaste on your shirt. "No, no, no - ugh. I can't believe this." You whined and hurried so you could change again.

Hair? fine, make-up? Fuck it - okay, just go out and get in the car. At this point, you were already a whole hour late. When you arrived at the place where your car was supposed to be and couldn't see it, you started to panic and it didn't stop when you realized why. It's in the repair shop! Why, does this have to happen to me?!

"Okay, let's calm down for a minute." You said to yourself and took a deep breath of the cold morning air. It was quiet, only the chirping of the birds could be heard, it was still early in the morning. "That's just the way it is now. I'll just let someone know I'll be late and - " You said and took out your phone, only to realize that it was dead. This all was probably due to a power cut in the night, which also explained why your alarm clock wasn't working this morning. " - alright, I won't do that then. It's cool. Everything's cool."

Your day was off to a pretty bad start already. It would take you at least half an hour to get to work with the train, and you'd have to wait another half an hour since the last one left five minutes ago according to your watch. Yes, the morning commute wasn't exactly popular in the Capitol - the people here usually preferred to sleep in.

"You know what? I'm just going to treat myself to my favorite drink in my favorite café. I really can't do this right now." You finally decide and set off a little more relaxed. "I would argue that I don't get paid enough for this, but I actually get paid pretty well." You admitted but didn't care any more than to laugh about it.

Of course, no one would assume that the secretary to the president of Panem would get a bad wage.

Hm. Coriolanus looked at his watch again. His eyes had been darting there strangely often since this morning. Well, he didn't see you at all today, and normally you would greet him on the way to his office, and he would greet you back. After a while, you would come through the door and ask if he wanted coffee while you were already carrying it to him in your hand. This was followed by a little summary from you about what appointments he had today, who he was meeting and so on - it's not that important, the point is that he hasn't seen you yet and he didn't know why.

He got up from his seat and opened the door of his office to look out, but like before, you weren't sitting in your seat at the reception desk.

He then decided to look for his nearest employee. "Excuse me, Mr. Pox. I hope I'm not interrupting anything. " He announced his presence as he knocked lightly on the open door with his knuckles.

The man immediately stood up slightly nervously in order to appear respectful. He was older than Coriolanus, but he also wasn't the president. "You're not interrupting anything, sir! How can I help you?" He asked, a little confused. Oh no, he never asks me anything personally, I hope it's nothing serious. I'm not in trouble, am I?

Coriolanus reassured him as he subtly asked his question. "Well, I was just wondering where my secretary was. You wouldn't happen to know anything about her whereabouts?" He said, thinking it was a little stupid of him for not wanting to appear conspicuous. She works for me. I have the right to know where she is. This is not in any way inappropriate.

Pox was relieved when it turned out that this wasn't about him, but immediately felt a little guilty because you seemed to be in trouble. You were his nicest colleague, he liked you a lot. But I can't just lie to the president either. He's literally the president! He'll certainly find out if I do. "No, sir. Unfortunately not, she didn't tell me anything." He replied and just watched as the man in front of him hummed absently, which is why he quickly added. "Maybe she's just late?"

If that were the case, you'd already be three hours late. That was not like you, and Coriolanus began to subconsciously worry a little. She would let me know if she was going to be late. He thought to himself until he realized that you had never been late before, so he couldn't be too sure of his theory. Because that was what it was - just a theory. "Hm. All right, thanks for your time, see you then." He said goodbye to Pox and decided to go back to his office.

There wasn't really anything else he could do - well, except maybe call you. He stopped his steps for a moment at the thought. That feels wrong. Usually, you were the one who called him regularly or barged into his office so he didn't really have to. Well, sometimes he wanted to, but he doubted you would appreciate it if he contacted you after your working hours. He sometimes wished that his thoughts of you would end with your departure, but he hadn't really been successful yet, and for god's sake, he didn't know why. Well, I do - but it's complicated. She's my secretary and this isn't a stupid rom com.

He saw you all day. That is enough. It should be enough. It wasn't like he was looking forward to monday or anything since you started working for him - well, he was, but that was because of other things, for sure. It could be because of other things, he could find joy in other things.

"Oh, Mr. Snow. There you are." Your voice surprised him as he opened the door to his own office and was greated with your face in front of his. "I wanted to talk to you, but then you weren't here. I'm sorry I got in without your permission." You apologized sincerely and took a step to the side so he could enter.

"It's all good. You don't need to apologize." Coriolanus said calmly and sat down in his seat, subtly watching you move in front of his desk. "What is it?" He asked, appearing unaffected - as if he hadn't been thinking about you and what you were doing since this morning.

You looked slightly confused. "Well, I'm three hours late for work." You announced, sure that he would have noticed. "I know this can't be excused, and I'll get straight to work to make up for it, I promise. It's just that my car has a few issues and, well..." You assured him and placed a paper cup on his table. "I know I usually bring you coffee, and this is not the expensive one from here, but from my favorite café around the corner, but well..." You started rambling a bit and were a little more talkative than usual, which didn't go unnoticed. "...It also got cold on the way, and I spilled half of it because someone ran into me on the train." You added when you noticed how his gaze shifted to the stain at your side.

"Sounds like you had a pretty exciting morning. It's all right, don't worry, I'll turn a blind eye since it's the first time." Coriolanus replied with his slightly charming smile. You usually told him so little about your personal life that he unconsciously began to appreciate the little things he got to hear from you.

Like no, he didn't want to hear another stupid story about Mr. Aliose and his fucking hamsters. He almost felt sorry for the guys patheticness, maybe he could live a happier life if he put more effort into finding a wife than getting his pet to do a roll. Or from his other employees who tried to entertain him with uninteresting personal stories he didn't care about - because he didn't care about them.

And the one person he did actually want to hear from, kept their personal and work life very separate. He hated that it wasn't the other way around.

You nodded. "You don't even know. I don't expect you to drink this, by the way. As a matter of fact, I'll make you another one right now. It's just that - I worked really hard to get this to you, and it felt wrong to just throw it in the trash in the end." You let that bit out before returning to your professional self. "I just wanted that at least one thing would go right today."

Stay cool, Coriolanus. Don't freak out, and also, stop romanticizing this. "It's all good. I'm honored that you thought of me." He said, hoping he sounded natural.

A smile graced your face. "Of course, Mr. Snow. I'll be right back." You promised him as you stepped out of his office and made your way to the coffee machine.

As soon as the door closed behind you, Coriolanus let out the breath he had been holding. His hand reached for the coffee cup and turned it in his hand only to discover a small note on it. "For my boss and the boss of Panem :)" He read out loud and smiled as his thumb ran over the drawing of the snowflake. He couldn't help but take the little gesture to heart. "That's so sweet."

I should send out a car to pick her up tomorrow - for business reasons, of course.

[buccini555]

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 - 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩

♡ What would it be like to have a secret relationship with one of the city's most dangerous gangsters? (NSFW Imagine)

♡ H e a d c a n o n s/I m a g i n e s .ᐟ .ᐟ

♡ 𝑭𝒕. Takeomi Akashi

𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐨 . 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐲𝐨 . 𝐊𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐨 . 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢 . 𝐑𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢 . 𝐊𝐨𝐤𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐢 𝐇𝐚𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐞 . 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐨𝐦𝐢 𝐀𝐤𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢 ♡

tw: troubled/toxic relationship mention, manipulation mention, betrayal mention, Takeomi being an idiot sometimes

𝗧𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗼𝗺𝗶 𝗔𝗸𝗮𝘀𝗵𝗶: It's undeniable the fact that Takeomi is a natural at night parties, and there, at some party, he ended up meeting you, as soon as the older man laid eyes on you, a huge interest can be felt, Takeomi doesn't He's the romantic type, but he offered you a drink and after that night you started having a secret affair.

He's absent, he rarely shows any feelings or anything like that, except when he's drunk, sometimes he might bring you flowers or gifts, but he can't even hide from himself how unfaithful he is, Takeomi definitely doesn't take the hint. You take him so seriously, ending up treating you just like a gain most of the time, even so, he also ends up being jealous and possessive, fights occur frequently in your relationship and he makes a point of starting them.

You usually meet in an apartment that Takeomi rented exclusively to see you, sometimes you also end up going out in public, however, the eldest prefers to maintain almost absolute secrecy, only restricting his meetings to reserved and private places.

As mentioned briefly, Takeomi gets involved with other women, he doesn't make a point of hiding this fact and gets upset when you demand him in any way, he is controlling and often manipulative, not caring much about your feelings, even so, rarely Sometimes he ends up treating you like a princess, doing absolutely everything you want and giving you large amounts of money and anything else you want.

tw: use of cigarettes, jealousy/possessiveness/aggressivenes, masturbation, forced penetration (?), overstimulation, degradation kink, petnames (baby, babygirl, princess) strong words(bitch, slut, whore and others), masochism(?) mention, unprotected sex, creampie

After another meeting, Takeomi arrived home, sitting on the sofa and lighting a cigarette waiting for you to welcome him, you had just gotten out of the shower when you found him sitting waiting for you, surprised that he had arrived early, immediately went to see him.

"I was waiting for you, I didn't want to disturb your shower." Taking a drag, he said, finishing releasing the smoke, then you sat on his lap hugging him.

"I missed you." Right then, you said, Takeomi held you closer and smiled, looking in a good mood.

"I hope you dressed up like that just for me." He laughed, leaving the cigarette in the ashtray next to him.

"Of course, who else would it be for?" You said to tease him.

"Who do you think you are to tease me like that, girl? Have you lost the notion?" Again, he held you, making you sit on the couch and look at him as the older man held your wrists. "Takeomi!" You said as you tried to free yourself.

Takeomi looked you up and down, seeing that underneath your robe you were only wearing lingerie. "Don't play with me, you know you won't be able to handle it later." Smiling, he said, pulling aside one of the sleeves of her clothes, leaving your bra visible.

"What do you want, Takeomi? Don't you realize I was mad at you?" Turning your face away, you questioned as he held your body against the couch.

"You're not mad at me, I know very well what you want, do you think I don't know you?" He brought one of his hands to your face, pulling it and making you look at him again. "And isn't what I want obvious?" He questioned. "You better start behaving, otherwise..." Takeomi forced your face further, making you kiss him.

"Otherwise what, Takeomi?" In the same teasing tone, you asked, leaving the older somewhat irritated. "Damn, girl, don't act stupid." He said right away. "Am I going to have to teach you to respect me?" In a serious tone, he spoke as he took off your robe, leaving you in just your underwear in front of him, Akashi was on top of you still holding your face and keeping you completely submissive to him, Takeomi ran one of his hands down your thigh, lifting and holding you tightly, then sliding his hand down your crotch and putting your panties aside, ending up forcing two fingers into your intimacy, making you let out a small sigh.

"T-takeomi!" You scolded the older again for taking you by surprise, even so, you were enjoying yourself while he masturbated you, his fingers went deep into your tight pussy, which was already wet, making you more and more excited.

He laughed, mocking your situation, Takeomi continued to play with his intimacy until he was satisfied. "Do you think I'm going to ignore your fucking stupid behavior? I'm going to have to punish you for being a silly slut." He removed his fingers from you and licked them right away. "Turn around, now, stupid whore." He ordered, making you turn over and face him.

"I told you to turn around properly, didn't you listen to me or are you going to continue acting stupid?" Holding your waist, he made you lean towards him, Takeomi held his ass while you remained silent, just obeying him.

Takeomi grabbed your hair, pulling it back, thus keeping you completely naked.

"I'm not going to hurt you, no, silly babygirl... I wouldn't be able to hurt my little princess." He said, leaving you a little the freest. "Who said I'm afraid of you?" Soon after, you responded. "You're always a slut to let me fuck you like that." Again, he laughed, teasing you even more.

"Now, keep your fucking mouth shut and let me fuck your pussy to teach you a lesson." He didn't want to waste any more time, so, already excited enough, he needed you, Takeomi didn't care about hurting you, passing his member through your pussy, he put everything in at once, making you moan at the same moment, he he definitely wouldn't be affectionate or have any pity for you, he just wanted to fuck you and he did so, fast and deep in the way he preferred, while he filled your intimacy with thrusts, he pulled your hair and slapped you, making you feel every movement and every inch inside you, Takeomi pulled your hair even more as you moaned his name, leaving him even more excited and overcome with the desire to make you reach your limit.

"Y-you're nothing but a bitch." Going deeper inside you, he couldn't handle fucking you for much longer. "I-I am, I'm your bitch, Takeomi." Trying to control your trembling body, you whispered as Takeomi increased the pace of his thrusts. "Yeah, c'mon my girl! You drive me so fucking crazy with that tight pussy, Fuck! " He held your waist, making you even closer as he forced your hips. "...If you keep being a good little slut I'll fill you up with my cum." Takeomi stated, pulling his hair even harder. "I-I'll continue to be a good slut." You responded, feeling more and more pleasure with each movement and touch of the older.

Both of you were close to your limits, knowing that he wouldn't be able to fuck you for a long time, Takeomi just went faster, deeper and more violent, with every moan of yours that he managed to get out, he remained more excited and determined to make you cum until couldn't stand it anymore, he made you turn around to face him, placing one of your legs over his shoulder, intensifying each thrust even more until he felt your body trembling and your pretty pussy soaked, seeing you at the peak made him already I couldn't take all the pleasure I felt at that moment any longer. "Fuck, I love you." He said, ending up keeping his previous line and pouring all that hot liquid inside you. "I love you too." You responded, pulling him into a kiss while you could still feel his dick pulsating in your intimacy, he could still give you a few light thrusts but soon withdrew from inside you, seeing your intimacy dripping. "You were a good girl." He said, hugging you and showing some kind of affection.

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐋

PAIRING: gym owner!max phillips x female reader

RATING: explicit (18+) | WORD COUNT: 679

SUMMARY: Gym owner Max Phillips offers to let you use the sauna. In return, he uses your mouth.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: written for @iamasaddie zodiac writing challenge. prompt photo can be found at the end of the post. zodiac divider by @/saradika-graphics and a big thank you to @pedgito for reading this over for me

WARNINGS: explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), no use of y/n, able bodied reader, dirty talk, crawling, oral (m receiving), no aftercare, semi-public sex.

LINKS: masterlists | support for palestine

The benefit of your local gym being run by a vampire is that it was open twenty-four hours, giving you the opportunity to go during the weird times where the gym was practically empty save for the nocturnal owner, Max Phillips. He scans your Blood, Sweat, and Tears Gym membership card with a sharp grin and a lingering gaze each night you visit, though you don’t exchange more than a few words.

Until tonight, that is.

You’ve just finished a grueling workout and you’re doing your cooldown stretches on a yoga mat when he approaches, hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. You try hard not to let your eyes drop to the very prominent outline of his dick that’s right at your eye level.

“You know what would be great for you?” He asks. “Fifteen minutes in the sauna. You’ll feel brand new.”

“Doesn’t the sauna cost extra?” He waves a hand dismissively.

“It’s on me.”

Max gets the sauna ready for you, leaving a towel in the changing room that you use to cover yourself after stripping out of your sweat soaked workout clothes. You open the door, a cloud of steam smacking you in the face as you enter and find that your session won’t be spent alone.

“Hope you don’t mind if I join you,” Max says. He’s sitting on one of two benches, a white towel that matches yours wrapped around his waist, exposing his tanned and toned chest. He gestures to the bench across from him. “Take a seat.”

You settle onto the unoccupied bench, keeping your legs crossed. As you sit together in silence, Max shifts positions on the bench, spreading his legs further apart and relaxing against the wall. Sweat begins to gather on your exposed skin and you’re not sure if it’s from the look in his eye or the steam. Your eyes travel his body, zeroing in on the way the towel is tented by a prominent bulge.

Max says something that you don’t quite catch and your attention returns to his face. He gives you a knowing look, a smirk tilting the corner of his mouth and embarrassment courses through you.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch what you said,” you tell him.

“I said, ‘It won’t suck itself,’” he repeats, tugging the towel loose from his waist and exposing his cock.

His thick length curves slightly toward his stomach, showcasing a prominent vein on the underside that makes your mouth water. You start to stand but he makes a clicking noise with his tongue that catches your attention.

“Crawl,” he says. Despite the smile on his face, his tone is laced with warning. You sink to your knees and he licks his lips, watching as you crawl on your hands and knees toward him.

Kneeling between his legs, you tentatively place your hands on his thighs. The muscles jump beneath your palms but otherwise he remains still. You wrap one hand around the base of his cock, sliding your tight fist slowly toward the flushed tip. His head drops back with a groan, muscles going lax.

“Show me what that pretty mouth can do, sweetheart,” he demands. You lean forward, holding him steady in your hand as you slide him between your lips, looking up at his face as you do. You take him slow and deep, as far back into your throat as you can, repeating the motions as he moans.

When his hips start to chase your mouth, you speed up your efforts. It’s not long until you feel a hand press to the back of your head and the warmth of his cum hits your tongue and you dutifully swallow. You sit back on your heels and he gathers the towel around his waist, standing from the bench. He cups your chin in his hand, smoothing a thumb across the corner of your lips.

“Next time, I’ll get my mouth on you,” he says with a wink.

He’s gone from the room before you get the chance to reply.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated if you enjoyed this fic 💕

[phyrestartr]

HOUND | Miguel x M!Reader

Geneticist!Miguel x Guard!Reader Part 1 W/C: 2.5K | Part 1 of 2

Slight NSFW, zombie AU, apocalypse AU, mentions of exploitation and abuse, body horror, gore, immoral research and experiments, power imbalance, reader is a criminal, miguel is a scientist, dark themes, part 2 ends on a positive note, reader is morally grey, bottom!miguel, top!reader, sorry there's lore lol

Note: Wanted to post this bad boy in full, but the second half sorely needs some revising T-T It should be finished and up fairly soon, though! I hope this is ~intriguing~ for those who like darker stuff! Also I did a light edit on this part, but I really just want to get it out so lol sorry if things sound stupid/don't make sense asdjkf;l

--

There exists a cure.

That's what Alchemax declared. And it was the truth, just not the full truth. Not something the public would be happy with, anyway. 

The so-called "cure" was…unreliable, only recoding the RNA of select individuals for a reason that Alchemax's geneticists struggled to identify for the longest time. But after combing through the files of each expendable inmate and finding similarities, it became clear: those who'd been in the presence of nuclear energy, or high amounts of radiation, were suitable candidates for the vaccine. 

"Guess it's a good thing we didn't shut down those mines," Aaron had sneered at the board meeting. "Otherwise we wouldn't have the army of immune mutants running around for us." 

Miguel rolled his eyes. Sure, the idiot wasn't wrong, but he was taking it too far; plenty had died because of their experiments, and plenty more of the "immune" were sure to die with the unknown side effects of whatever the vaccine was bound to show in a matter of years (or in mere months, if they were unlucky). 

"It's a start," Miguel begrudgingly added. "But intentionally damaging civilian RNA with radiation, and then repairing it with S-2099, especially when we're not aware of any side effects yet? The UN won't have it. Can't imagine civilians would love it either." 

"Well, it's either get bit and die, stay afraid and die, or get painlessly exposed to a blast of radiation and then maybe die if 2099 doesn't fix them like we think," Liv offered with a shrug. "I, for one, would be honoured to die in the name of science." 

Miguel coolly looked over at her. "Thanks for volunteering." 

Liv's expression twisted. The energy in the room would've exploded if it hadn't been for Stone's interjection. 

"We will not be commencing civilian trials. Not until success rates increase with approved subjects provided by the state." The man spoke so steadily, so reasonably, like sacrificing the lives of orange jumpsuits meant nothing. 

They were dismissed soon after. Screens flickered out, holograms faded, and Miguel found himself alone with the other few scientists left at their Nueva York location. 

He stayed seated, vaguely aware of the others filtering out and murmuring amongst themselves, but his thoughts demanded his attention–he knew, even if the government didn't approve of essentially soft-nuking colonies of survivors, that Tyler Stone would find a way to do it, and would label it an accident. The man, his birth father, was ruthless, cold, calculated– 

"Sir?" A voice, your voice, cut through the silence. Miguel looked over his shoulder and found you still waiting, standing perfectly still by the door. 

"Sorry, I was just…" Miguel sighed and rubbed his face before standing. "Nevermind. Don't worry about it." 

Of course, you didn't say anything, instead nodding wordlessly and following your ward out of the room. Each step you took was punctuated by the shifting of your firearm against your thigh and the heavy thumps of your boots against the polished floors. Miguel used to hate your presence, think it unnecessary, but soon he grew to feel comfortable with you as his shadow. 

You, his powerful, mutant guard dog. 

"I can't fucking believe what this is turning into," Miguel muttered on the way to his quarters. "Too many unanswered questions, too many risks. And they don't care? We haven't even run further simulations yet–and we can run simulations with different alpha rays and different subject samples. It'd be harmless." The door hissed open and Miguel walked in, sorely wishing he could slam the door for once. Why did everything have to be automated? 

"In. Now," Miguel called when you stopped short of his residence. You obeyed, wandering inside before the door slid to a close behind you, and locked. 

You had reason to be nervous, Miguel knew that, too. Each key scientist in the building was assigned one of your kind, one of the immune mutants, and were free to do what they wanted with them. Sex, torture, chores–all of it was on the table. All of it had been asked of your kind. Done by your kind. Miguel figured that was why you kept a wall up. You hardly spoke, didn't request anything, never complained–all in an effort to keep the peace between you and your owner.

Miguel threw his white coat aside before stalking up to you. "Let me see," he mumbled as he held your jaw and tilted your head as he shone the light from his phone into your eye. 

Your pupils reacted at twice the speed of a normal human's, growing into the tiniest of pin pricks when the bright white flare assaulted your senses. Your eye twitched the slightest bit, but you remained still for Miguel. 

"Reactive. Not dead. That's good." He put his phone away, and examined the scarlet blotches contrasting against the natural hue of your iris. It was a relatively new side effect experienced by most of your batch, but you were amongst the more severe cases, if not the most severe case. Most of his peers didn't seem concerned by it, and Miguel could understand, seeing as it appeared to only be cosmetic, but the increased reactivity of your pupil accompanied with the bloody colour intrigued Miguel enough to keep tabs on it. 

"Any changes lately? To appetite, sleep, anything?" He asked as he let go of your jaw, nearly smiling as you tried to follow his touch for a moment longer like a sleepy cat. "Maybe neediness?" Miguel teased. 

You huffed lightly through your nose and looked around the main room of Miguel's living space. "Tired, I guess." 

Miguel's nerves smoothed with the sandpaper scratch of your voice. "Tired. Might be the anemia again. We'll draw blood tomorrow, see if you need supplements or another infusion." Miguel found himself mumbling now, going on about your health and your changes, wondering out loud what the best course of action would be to help you adjust to whatever was happening to your body, but you didn't say anything. You never did unless provoked. 

Miguel decided to provoke. He needed to speak, to be spoken to, to hear someone else’s voice right now. "What do you think about all this?" He called from the bathroom after washing up for the night. He poked his head out a moment later when you didn’t comment. 

“I know you were listening,” he prodded again over the toothbrush jammed into the side of his mouth. “The other ones don’t, but you do. I can tell by that look you get.” he waited for you to respond while he brushed his teeth, but you didn’t. You hadn’t moved from your post by his front door, actually, stood against the wall, arms crossed and staring forward like you were listening to everything beyond the door. Miguel wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen you sit down. He didn’t know if you’d ever laid down before. 

After he finished washing up for the night, he decided to try again. 

“You really gonna keep me in the dark?” Miguel asked as he walked up to you, arms crossed as well. He couldn’t help but feel smaller and smaller the longer he waited in silence, waited to hear your gravelled voice. He couldn’t grasp why he was so desperate for a friend suddenly, but he was. He really was, and he wasn’t finding it in you. 

“Forget it. Doesn’t matter anyway,” Miguel mumbled, turning away from you and rubbing his face tiredly. 

“Don't have much of an opinion.”

“What?” Miguel turned back around, brows raised as he waited for you to continue. Your gaze peeled from the ceiling and fell to him, like you were waiting for a reprimand of sorts, but Miguel wouldn’t, not when he tried so hard to get a peep out of you.

You shrugged and looked elsewhere. “Don't care what happens to civilians. Not my problem.” 

“It's the world's problem,” Miguel suggested. He didn't want to start an argument, but he didn't want you to feel so blasé about the fate of everything. “The more civilians that get infected, the more the world loses.” 

“Thought that was a good thing. Last I heard, the world was pretty overpopulated.” You said it so easily. Miguel would have shrugged it off if he didn't know about the blood on your hands, the crimes you'd committed, the evidence that you really, truly, did not give a shit about humanity. 

Miguel scoffed, a bitter, bewildered sort of thing. “Y'know, I used to pity you for this,” he started, gesturing to the soldiered-out state of yourself, “but you might be less human than those things out there.” 

“Probably.” 

“You don't even care,” Miguel laughed again. “Did you care when you killed that family?” 

“An eye for an eye,” you replied. 

“Right, right. Then what about your daughter? Did you care when–” the world spun before his back cracked against the wall. He grabbed your wrist and squeezed when your hands fisted in his shirt, ready to trigger your kill switch with one click of a button on his ring, but he didn't need to; you simply held him there, boring holes into his skull with your diamond-tipped stare. 

“You jokers don't know when to quit,” you said. “Always have to drag a kid into the equation, ‘n then act so fucking shocked when you end up dead ‘cause of it.” A sigh slipped past your lips as you leaned in. Miguel wanted to meet you halfway. “Fuckers like you make murderers out of men like me.”

Oh. The violence rippling through your crackling voice went straight down, into the pit below Miguel's stomach and coiled into something frightfully decadent. He wanted your hands around his neck. He wanted you to mutter more threats into his ear. He wanted–

He wanted you. 

“Let me touch you,” Miguel blurted. “Your skin.” You gave a reaction then, eyes blinking away shock and throat clearing with a strangled grunt, but you didn’t say no. You didn’t reject him. In fact, you looked him up and down in question, curiosity peeking through piercing eyes. 

“You're a deranged fuck, aren't you? Getting all hot ‘n bothered from a threat.” You reached for the straps of your kevlar vest, then, and Miguel’s nerves jolted with the sound of the buckles clicking loose. 

He scrambled to you and held your hands. He wanted to do it himself, to unwrap your bindings and see what laid beneath. Your hands fell, and Miguel took over. 

The warmth bleeding from your clothes intoxicated him. He fumbled with your gear, eager to get to the base of your tight, black shirt and rip it off, but you didn’t try to take over for him–you watched, patient like a dog, letting your master doff your armour at his leisure (or, rather, his frantic, desperate pace). Miguel appreciated it. He wondered if you knew he'd snap if you tried to interfere. 

Soon, your chest was bare. Exposed for him, dotted with memories of cruel bites, bullets, knives and surgical scars all over taught, humming skin. Man shouldn’t be allowed to touch you, Miguel thought. The imperfections were so gloriously human. You were so perfectly alive, standing here with him, breathing, emanating heat, allowing him to do what he pleased–he was the luckiest man on Earth. 

Miguel couldn’t look you in the eyes as his broad palm pressed against your chest, right over the rhythm of your soul. His pants strained and tightened more as his touch wandered through the valleys of firm muscle; what did the rest of you look like? What did you look like when you fought, or when you fucked? 

His hand slipped down to the tight adonis belt cinching your waist, and then lower, following the trail of fine hair disappearing beneath the waistband peeking above your cargos. The bunching and folding of thick material melted Miguel's mind in a vat of suggestion and insatiability–were you really that big, or was that fabric just making it an illusion? 

He didn't need to wait to find out, though, not when you guided his hand down over the very real curve of your goods packed away. And, yes, you were big. Miguel's eyes snapped up to yours. A smug look greeted him.

“Looked like you needed some encouragement.”

Miguel might have laughed if his heart weren't suffocating him, climbing up his throat. Your clothed cock under his hand was ruining his cognitive functions too, to be fair. 

His fingers, long, clumsy things, hurried at your buttons and the zipper keeping everything in check. Miguel's ears filled with the rhythmic drumming of desire when he finally got the damn thing undone, but you grabbed his wrist. You stopped him. 

Miguel scoffed out a held breath and tried to wrench free, but your grip held firm. “You can't back out after–” But when he looked at you, he froze still; your expression electrified the senses, the slightest narrowing and shifting of uneasy eyes freezing Miguel colder and colder by the second. 

“Bathroom. Now.” You popped just one of those buttons back into place before turning to the door. 

“Wh–” But you shoved him, hard, and sent him stumbling into the sterile white space as explosive carnage rippled through the room in his wake. The thing collided into you seconds after you'd gotten your charge out of the blast zone. 

It was big. A mass of human features and flesh and maybe something else weighing on a hulking frame. You barked a name, maybe the name of one of your fellow watch dogs, but it didn't change the thing's trajectory as it tore towards Miguel on all fours like a hound out of hell.

But you were quicker. You grabbed it by the nape and ripped it off its warpath with too much effort, just narrowly avoiding it barreling into the attached room by seconds. Its momentum, forced toward the wall, threw it into a dizzied tantrum; limbs flailed, mouths gnashed, and a symphony of mismatched voices wailed from their putrid prison. 

Miguel's body locked. What ifs plagued him, suddenly. If it got him. If it bit him. If you hadn't been there. What if–

“Close the damn door,” you demanded, and your voice sounded a bit shaky, too. Miguel looked at your broad back as you stood bravely in the way of the beast and its target. “Doctor–” 

“I–but you–?” Miguel stumbled and choked on his words and his reasoning. He didn't want you to fight. He didn't want to die. He didn't want you to die. Miguel hit the button to make it closed, but the door stalled halfway.

“Fuck it.” Barbs burst from your fingertips and dug into the door, forcing it to bend to your will and close. Miguel didn't like how you disappeared inch by inch. He didn't like seeing that thing behind you get up. He didn't like that look you gave him just before the door snapped shut. 

The next few minutes passed like years.

[lomllover]

grammys day

summary: y/n and harry are there to support each other at the grammys

warnings: so much fluff omg

pairings: husband!harry x fem!reader

word count:

"Y/N and Harry over here, to your right!!"

"Jesus, they're so loud and demanding." Harry said loud enough so only you could hear which made you let out a giggle.

"That's their job, H." You turned to look at him and picked up your dress with one hand and held his hand in the other. "Lets keep going, yeah?"

As the pictures went on, the more Jeff nagged the both of you to hurry up otherwise you’d be late for your performance and Harry would be late for his. “Jeffery, calm down its gonna be okay.” You jokingly reassured him and climbed into the limo. “H, let’s take a picture.” You handed Jeff your phone to take a picture and smiled at Harry as he pressed a kiss to your cheek then made you face him so he could kiss you on the lips.

Jeff made a fake gagging noise and you flipped him off while still kissing your husband. “Okay okay, I think I got the picture. You can stop kissing now.”

-

“Now before we move onto our next performance by Y/N Styles, I’m here with her incredible husband, Harry Styles!” Trevor said and the audience clapped. “I mean what can you say about this man that hasn’t been said, huh? Incredible album.. Mind blowing tour. What is it? 15 nights at MSG AND the Forum? Women throw their panties at this man,” He pretended to throw something, “And he puts them on and he looks better in them than they do.”

You were watching backstage and could tell Harry was very uncomfortable but what Trevor said next really made your blood boil.

“Easily the worlds sexiest man! Are you- There’s no competition! Sex. Symbol. Of the globe. Especially now that they’ve killed off the green M&M, no competition. R.I.P. This is the room, people. We’ve got LA’s very own Y/N Styles joining us now performing her hit song, Lavender Haze!” He finished and you smiled as everyone turned their attention to you. You had on a new dress since your other one was definitely too big to preform in.

The music started to play and you looked over to where Harry was sitting and gave him a small wave. The intro of the song started and you took a deep breath then began talking. “Grammys! How are we tonight??” You asked and the crowd cheered.

“Staring at the ceiling with you. Oh, you don’t ever say too much.”

“And you don’t really read into my melancholia.” You moved off the main stage just like you had rehearsed and moved over to the center stage because that’s where Harrys table was by and obviously you wrote this song about him. “I’ve been under scrutiny.. You handle it beautifully. All this shit is new to me.”

Those were important lines to you because after being not being in the public eye for as long as Harry, they obviously tried to cancel you for everything little thing but Harry didn’t care, that wasn’t the Y/N he knew and loved.

"All they keep asking me is if I'm gonna be your bride." You held up your ringed finger. "The only kinda girl they see is a one-night or a wife."

"I find it dizzying, they're bringing up my history. But you weren't even listening," The lights went purple and there was fog surrounding the stage. "I feel the lavender haze creeping up on me."

"Surreal, I'm damned if I do give a damn what people say." You looked around the room and saw everyone standing up dancing. "No deal, the 1950s shit they want from me." You loved that line. Everyone always expected you to stay home, give Harry babies, and make him a nice warm dinner to come home to every night. But that wasn't what you wanted, you wanted your own career. Obviously you wanted kids as well but that was for the further in the future and Harry absolutely understood where you were coming from.

"Talk your talk and go viral, I just need this love spiral." Harry smiled brightly and mouthed 'I love you' to you which made you blush like a teenage girl. "Get it off your chest.. Get it off my desk,"

"Talk your talk and go viral, I just need this love spiral. Get it off your chest," You spoke that line instead of singing it. "Get it off my desk!" You moved back to the main stage and everyone cheered loud. "Surreal, I'm damned if I do give a damn what people say. No deal, the 1950s shit they want from me."

"I just wanna stay in that lavender haze."

"Get if off your chest... Get it off my desk."

"That lavender haze, I just wanna stay." You moved back to where you originally started off at on the stage.

"I just wanna stay in that lavender haze." You bowed as you caught your breath then left the stage.

"That was so amazing, Y/N!!" You heard someone shout as you walked back to your dressing room.

"Thank you so much, I really appreciate it!" You called back and checked your phone to see all of your family members had texted you.

Mom

"Good job, honey!! You did amazing!"

Dad

"Can't believe my baby is all grown up, we love you Y/N"

Y/S/N

Attachment 1 video

"Good job, sissy. We were all cheering you on!"

Haz <3

"You did absolutely amazing, my love. I'll be in your dressing room in just a few xx"

He wasn't lying when he said that because a couple of minutes later, you heard a knock at the door. "Hey, do you mind getting that? I'm trying to get changed." You called out to your manager from the bathroom.

-

"And the Grammy for best pop vocal album goes to... Harry Styles, Harry's House!" JLO announced and Harry his his face behind his hands.

“Harry you did it!!” You stood up with him and hugged him tightly.

“Holy shit, Y/N.” He hugged you back and pulled away after a moment to hug everyone else.

Harry took the Grammy in his hands and took a deep breath. “Wow.. Thank you so much, this album from start to finish has been the greatest experience of my life, from writing it with my best friends and my wife, to playing it for you, it’s the greatest joy. I’d like to thank Rob, Jeffery, Tom, Tyler, Tommy, Tom, and Y/N. Thank you to everyone who inspired this album, thank you to all my family and friends. I wouldn’t be here without you, thank you.”

You cheered with Lizzo as loud as you both could and smiled when Harry made his way back down to you. “There’s my Grammy winning husband!!” You pressed a big sloppy kiss right over his dimple and wrapped his arms around his neck. “How’s it feel to know you have two whole Grammys now?”

“ ‘S amazing, sweetheart. I believe your category is coming up next.” He winked at you and your face turned red.

“Oh gosh please don’t remind me. I’m so nervous.” Your eyes grew wider as you both sat down.

-

“Here are the list of nominees for song of the year,

As It Was, Harry Styles.

Break My Soul, Beyoncé.

Just Like That, Bonnie Raitt.

About Damn Time, Lizzo.

Lavender Haze, Y/N Styles.”

“And the Grammy for song of the year goes to,” Jill opened the envelope and smiled. “Y/N Styles, Lavender Haze!!”

You stared at your champagne glass and you felt Harry gently shake you to get you to stand up. You looked up at him and let out a shaky laugh. “Oh my god.. Is this actually happening?” You asked him and he pulled you in for a hug.

“It’s actually happening, darling.” He pulled away. “Now go up there and get your award!”

You did as you were told and looked back at the screen to make sure it was actually your face up there. “Wow.. I didn’t have anything prepared because honestly I didn’t think I’d win. I mean I was up against Beyoncé and Lizzo, why on Earth would I win this?” You looked at the award in your very shaky hands. “Holy shit. Thank you so much to everyone who helped me with this song. Thank you to Harry for being my inspiration for this entire album, really. I wouldn’t be here without you, H. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” You walked off the stage and went back to your table.

Trevor started talking again through the microphone and you stared at your hands in shock. “Oh my god, Harry. I just won a fucking Grammy.” You said, looking up at him with tears in your eyes.

Harry pulled your chair closer to him and placed a kiss to your temple as you leaned into him. "Mum wants a picture of both of us with our awards, are you up for one right now?" He asked, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

You nodded and watched as he handed his phone to Lizzo then helped you stand up.

"Okay smile!" Lizzo said and you both held your Grammys up to the camera with a huge smile. "Perfect, I took like a thousand."

-

It was the last category of the night, Album Of The Year, and man were you nervous. It was such a tough category against many talented artists but you kept reassuring Harry that he was going to win. "When you win, we're gonna go celebrate like there's no tomorrow." You ran your fingers through his hair at the back of his neck.

"Okay everyone, we're on in 5 seconds!" You heard someone say through the speakers and you put your phone in your handbag.

Trevor stood on the stage and smiled brightly. "To wrap the evening up, we have DJ Khaled and John Legend performing for us tonight but before that, we have one final category, Album Of The Year! Lets take a look at the nominees."

"Harry's House, Harry Styles.

Voyage, ABBA.

30, Adele.

Un Verano Sin Ti, Bad Bunny.

RENAISSANCE, Beyoncé.

Good Morning Gorgeous (Deluxe), Mary J. Blige.

In These Silent Days, Brandi Carlile.

Music of the Spheres, Coldplay.

Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers, Kendrick Lamar.

Special, Lizzo."

"And the Grammy goes to..." He smiled and opened the envelope. "Harry Styles!"

Everyone started cheering and you practically jumped out of your seat and hugged Jeff as tight as you could before pulling away after a moment and looking at Harry who had his face in his hands. "H! You did it, H!" You helped him stand up and then pressed a kiss to his lips.

He returned the kiss and then after hugging everyone, he made his way top onto the stage with you, Kid Harpoon, and Tyler. He took the award in his hands and smiled. "Shit! I mean-shit! Man.. Um, I’ve been so, so inspired by every artist in this category with me. At a lot of different times in my life I listen to everyone in this category when I’m alone, and I think on nights like tonight, its obviously so important for us to remember that there is no such this as best in music. Um-I don’t think any of us sit in the studio thinking, making decisions based on what is gonna get us one of these. This is really, really kind. I’m so, so grateful. I’m gonna pass it over to my collaborators who are- I’m just so uh, this doesn’t happen to people like me very often and this is so, so nice. Thank you very, very much." He handed the Grammy to Tyler and pulled you into a tight hug.

“I love you so much.” He wiped his tears on your dress and pulled back to admire your face.

"I love you so much more."

-

After you went home, showered, and got changed into comfier clothes, you and Harry headed over to Jeff’s house to hang out. Now you both were sitting on the couch with you in between Harrys legs with a wine glass in your hand.

“Okay but can we just talk about Y/N’s killer performance?” Jeff asked which made everyone look over to you.

“Oh gosh, my earpiece wasn't working at first and then they turned the lights purple and turned on the fog machine too soon and it was so embarrassing. They were supposed to wait until after I sang ‘I feel the lavender haze creeping up on me.’” You sighed and took a sip of your wine.

“Well you did amazing either way, my love. And you won your first ever Grammy!” He rested his hands on your stomach underneath your Forest Green Pleasing sweatshirt and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

You put your wine glass on the coffee table and flipped over so your chest was pressed against Harrys and you closed your eyes.

Harry noticed this and ran his fingers through your hair. “You tired, peach?” He asked and you hummed in return. “Wanna go home?”

You nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck and pressed a soft kiss there. “No no no, you’re having fun with your friends. Don’t let me ruin that.”

He nodded his head slowly. “Okay, well just let me know when you’re ready and we can go.”

-

You woke back up a couple hours later to all the lights off and the TV playing a movie. “Harry?” You looked up at him and placed a kiss to his cheek.

"Morning, sleepy head." He whispered and pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

You hummed against his lips and smiled. "Where are Glenne and Jeff?"

"They went to bed, I was waiting for you to wake up but they said we can stay in their guest room tonight if we don't feel like going home, it's up to you, lovie."

"I'm fine with anything as long as I'm with you." You let out a yawn then nuzzled your face back into the crook of his neck.

Harry turned off the TV and slowly sat up which made you groan. "Before you go back to sleep, let's go get in bed and we can cuddle all you want."

Once you got up to the guest bedroom, you took off your sweatshirt and sweatpants so you were left in only your shirt then climbed into bed and snuggled up to Harry's now bare chest.

"Darling?" You heard Harry say after a few moments.

You looked up at him. "Yeah?"

"Thank you for everything you do for me, I wouldn't be here without here." He ran his fingers up and down your back.

"You don't need to thank me, H. I love you," You grabbed his left hand and kissed his knuckles. "We're in this together, remember? ‘Till death do us part’ then even after that you’re still stuck with me. It’s just us, baby, it’s you and I against the world. We don’t need anyone else.”

“Let’s have a baby.” He blurted out and your eyes widened. “Shit- Uh, I mean, do you wanna have a baby? I’ll be on tour only until July and then we can stay in England and out of the public eye contact and-”

“Harry,” You interrupted him and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Of course I wanna have a baby, do you think we’re ready?”

He nodded his head. “I do, we’ve never been happier and I think it’s the perfect time.”

“Then let’s have a baby, H. I’ll stop taking birth control tomorrow and then we can start trying.” You yawned. “But let’s go to sleep now, yeah? We can talk about it more in the morning?”

“I love you so much.” He pulled you closer to him and kissed all over your face and down your neck.

You giggled and laid your head against his chest to listen to his heartbeat to fall asleep. “I love you too.”

-

hi hi! here she is in all her glory! lmk if you want a pt 2. for when they start trying to have a baby, i think i have a couple ideas on how i wanna execute it! as always make sure you reblog to help my page grow, if you just like then that won’t do anything for me! have a good day/night i love you all,

xoxo bella 🤍

[moodymisty]

Ahh your writing is so wonderful! I have a request for Crosshair x F!Reader for “I’m not letting you out of my sight”

Like they both have a secret crush on each other but they are at a bar and Crosshair sees someone try to hit on you and he gets sexy possessive jealous?? 🫢🤌 NSFW is ok! 😈

❀ Milestone prompts list ❀

Author's Note: Ohhhh I love me some possessive tropes... Lets get it on~ I might come back and touch this one up a bit since i'm not totallyyyy happy with the way things flow, but I really wanted to write and post some naughty Crosshair; I've been doing so much fluff

Relationships: Crosshair/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, mild instances of a stranger being a little pushy flirty, Semi-public sex, Slightly rough sex, It's crosshair so any sort of emotional communication is awful, Unprotected sex

This bar is, shady. To put it lightly.

It could be worse, but it's very clear that this is the bar to go to when one is finished with some less than savory business, or you're persona non grata everywhere else.

But as such, it's also the only bar in this dank, dreary city that'll serve clones, so it's not as if you are all swimming in options. Of course you all finally get some shore leave, and it's on this sunken heap of a planet. The whole place smells like smog; Like some of the lowest, darkest levels of Coruscant.

The rest of the Batch is all late- held up by some repairs on the Marauder that needed immediate attention and multiple sets of hands. They encouraged you to head on without them and that they'd been done quickly, and Crosshair had decided to follow you.

You might normally have told him to stay and help them, but now that you're here, a part of you is a little bit glad that he didn't stay behind. He's a nice anchor point, as otherwise you'd be totally alone in a completely new place. A bar no less, one that doesn't seem exactly used to people like you and Crosshair inside of it.

"You look like a fish outta water, girlie."

You're not against petnames and nicknames, the Batch and most people you know rarely call you by your name anyways, but you're not a fan the way this bartender says it.

You also aren't fond of the way he's acting as if Crosshair doesn't exist, though he more than lets himself be known on the barstool right next to you as you respond.

"Just waiting for some friends," You respond. He fills someone's glass full of an unfamiliar and strong smelling liquor that burns your nose, giving it to them before looking back.

"Not more clones, I hope."

Crosshair speaks up, his eyebrows raised and shoulders firmly set. You'd say he's trying to seem intimidating and unfriendly, but that would imply it wasn't working.

"A problem?" The bartender makes a nonchalant noise in his throat and continues to serve some of the more demanding, drunker customers surrounding the two of you.

"Not if you're all payin'." Even if the answer isn't as negative as you would've expected, Crosshair is still less than pleased. The man looks at you, failing to give Crosshair even more than a wayward glance as he speaks.

"Didn't think a chick looking like you would spend time with that kinda lot."

Your face curls into a bit of a grimace, even as the shout of another patron beings the bartender's attention elsewhere. But even as he's gone off you can still feel how testy Crosshair is, as if the air around him is almost electric. You glance towards the front door for what feels like the millionth time and still, no sign of the rest- so you lean in towards him and whisper.

"Crosshair, relax. Go splash some water on your face or something."

Sure this isn't the most comfortable scenario, but you could do without him snorting fire every which way. You can shove off someone being a little bit skeevy without his help.

Instead of calming down however he snaps right back at you, his lips as tight as his brow when he spits out a response.

“I’m not letting you out of my sight. I see the way everyone's looking at you."

You don't know what part to focus on; The fact that he's noticed some less than appropriate stares happening behind you that you hadn't, or that he's openly admitted to keeping such a keen eye out for you. You tuck a chunk of hair behind your ear and look around.

Part of you is a a bit hungry, but you'll probably end up just eating some of the rations back at the Marauder, at this point. Especially if the others plan on taking even longer, glancing towards the entrance with pursed lips.

"Still waitin?" He's back, and you can feel Crosshair bristle just as you stretch a thin smile and nod.

"I'm sure one of the guys 'round here could show ya a better time than this." He's smiling, and you don't know in what way he means 'better', but innuendo or not it's not a deal you're going to take him up on. Crosshair seems to agree, beginning to hiss something from between his teeth.

"How about y-" "I'm taken. No thanks."

Crosshair stops speaking, and looks over at you. The bartender shrugs. When he looks at the sniper beside you and clearly presumes you're both together, you don't correct him.

It fits with the narrative and, you wouldn't mind roleplaying Crosshair being your lover for just a moment. It's almost hard to remember when you'd first fallen for him, but you've yet to speak anything about it to a single soul.

"Shame. Worth a shot."

He seems to at least get the hint, and turns around to go about some more of his business. Your shoulders relax a bit knowing that you don't have to deal with any of that anymore, leaning back. When you look over at Crosshair however, he's looking off in no particular direction, clearly lost in thought.

"Cross?" You're one of the few people that can get away with calling him any sort of nickname, raising your eyebrows as you look at him and raise a hand to touch his shoulder. When he turns his face is firm set, and you feel your face get hotter under his stare. His eyes have always been intense, but it feels like he's almost staring into you, instead of at you. It's making your heart beat a little faster, heat going to your neck as his eyes flicker around your face thinking things you don't even have a chance at guessing.

Suddenly out of nowhere he grabs you by the wrist and tugs you off your barstool, walking in the direction to the back of the bar. When you attempt to ask him why, he doesn't answer.

There seems to be only a storage closet and a refresher back here, alongside the backdoor into presumably With one fell swoop he opens the refresher door and pushes you in, closing and locking it behind him.

"Crosshair! What are y-"

His lips press against yours before you can say anymore, feeling the small of your back press against the countertop. They feel surprisingly cool against your own, your still open eyes having barely caught the way his are squeezed shut.

You've had a thing for Crosshair for the longest time, and while there's far better ways in the galaxy to confess to someone that you don't hate them, you aren't going to look a gift kybuck in the mouth. Not when Crosshair is so impossible to read, how he really feels is usually seven layers deep.

It takes you more than a moment to get over the overwhelming sense of surprise and actually reciprocate, instead of standing frozen like a statue. You can feel the gentle ghosting of his breath across your face, the aggressiveness he'd had at the beginning of the kiss fading away to be almost lovingly gentle. His lips move slowly with yours, catching your bottom lip between his teeth for a moment before he pulls away.

"Why'd you let him assume I was your date."

It sounds like there should be another half of that sentence, but Crosshair doesn't say it.

"I thought you wouldn't mind, as long as it got him to stop talking." He keeps stepping closer in this tiny closet of a room, and so you hop up onto the countertop and part your thighs enough to let him in. It's never exactly been a secret that you've thought about this, and finally being able to indulge in him has your hands grasping his shoulders so tight he'd have to wrench them off to get away.

"I didn't think a random bartender would make you so upset. Why’d you never tell me you were jealous?" You say, before his lips quiet you again. When he pulls them away with a soft 'pop' you can't help but trail after them, more drunk off of him that any sort of liquor you could get at the bar. He's feeling the same, judging by the fact that his pupils are blown so wide you can barely see the dark brown of his eyes.

"I told you, I didn't like how he was looking at you." It's not the first time Crosshair has pulled a stunt like that, but you normally thought it was because he found any sort of flirting in his vicinity annoying. Not that he liked you that much. It's not as if you can blame yourself- as Crosshair is just that hard to read.

“I didn’t think it mattered to you that much,” You say, illuding to the fact that he’s never given you so much as a hint that he might feel some way about you. He doesn’t formally respond, but you think you might’ve barely utter something along the lines of ‘it does’ against your skin.

Body tangled with yours the way his hands clamp around your hips is like a vice, fingers slipping into the waistband of your pants and underwear. When he pulled off his glove you don't remember, but so much has happened so fast it's almost a blur. They brush along your outer lips and instantly the sensation makes you tighten around nothing, already anticipating them slipping inside of you. The way your cunt is already wet enough to soak his fingers isn't lost on him, nor is the way make a noise loud enough that you feel the need to bite your lip and try to silence it. His fingers slip between your folds and brush against your clit, thighs tightening around him as your hips twitch towards him. The sensation already feels intense, silently begging for more.

The room is tiny and stuffy, if you stretched your foot out you could probably almost brush against the opposite wall, but every sound bounces off of it and fills your ears. The soft rustling of clothing and harsh breathing, the wet sounds of his fingers thrusting in and out of your cunt pace limited by the fabric of your bottoms. Your body warms and stretches around him, wetness slick over his hands and staining the fabric of your underwear.

He only stops when your own hands start grasping at the front of your pants and impede him, trying to finagle them off. Slick hand pulling from where it'd been cupped around your pussy, he helps pull them off in one fell swoop, pants and underwear dangling by only your left ankle.

He'd not taken a piece of armor off when you had all arrived earlier, coming here in his full kit minus helmet. As such he's peeling away the only piece that offers resistance to his goal, it coming undone and falling to the floor as the fabric of his blacks gets awkwardly torn aside. Only then can you suddenly feel the heat of his cock against your thigh, heavy and hard as he pulls you close enough to the edge that he can grind it against your cunt. There's a quiet groan he lets out through his teeth while moving against you, wanting to just sink himself in you. His hot breath fans over your face, your arms tight around his neck and thighs squeezing his hips.

You're desperate- hot and wanting not in a mood to play around in some dirty dimly lit refresher, hand slipping between your bodies and almost forcing his out, guiding his cock to press against your entrance.

Fuck, you've thought about this. Far too many times. Crosshair has too but, it's only tonight that he's finally breached the awkward air that always hung between you two. When your hand returns to his shoulder he's already sinking himself in you, burying to the hilt as your body feels almost unbelievably tight and soft around him.

"You're gonna rip holes in it," Crosshair mumbles against your skin, slyly referencing the way your nails and digging into the fabric of his bodyglove in the small spaces your managed to sneak in.

You might've considered spitting some sort of demand from him, but instead you push your hips closer to his own, listening to him groan in your ear as he drives his cock deeper into you.

It's all awkward and clumsy, an unfavorable spot that's completely spur of the moment. Then again a lot of the things you end up doing with Crosshair are spur of the moment, like midnight runs for food or running off to the middle of nowhere for some quiet, so perhaps this confession is just par for the course.

He's rough and unforgiving, frantic nose pressed against your face as he deepens your kiss. His armor keeps brushing against your bare skin as he thrusts into you, rough and unyielding against your soft meat of your thighs. It's a bit uncomfortable, but any thought of him removing it involves him having to stop fucking you- stop having his hands clench your hips so tight you think he'll leave little bruises as he pulls you closer to the edge of the counter.

"Then throw it out. I'll get you a new one if I do." Slowly his lips drift to the corner of your mouth, before down your jawline to your neck before he responds.

"I'd keep it." His kisses are rough; Not rough enough to leave a mark, but you wouldn't mind if they did.

If you ever had any concern of someone noticing your absence it's long gone, skin hot to the touch in any spot it's exposed as Crosshair pulls you harder onto him. His cock keeps brushing against every soft, sensitive nerve and muscle, making you gasp and your toes curl in your boots.

It's all so much; Your stomach turning and twisting as every single thrust of his hips and brushing of his teeth on your skin fulfils and thirst you'd had for ages.

Your legs wrap around his hips ever tighter, as you cum and bite your lip enough to leave dents. Your ankles lock and have him trapped close to you, snug deeply against and inside of you so much so that he can barely move.

Maybe it's that feeling of closeness, or maybe he's just been barely holding on this whole time and your cunt clenching tight around him is what does him in, but it isn't to long later before you can feel his nails digging into the skin of your thighs, cumming inside of you with a hiss through his teeth.

The countertop feels cold against the back of your thighs, but your body is running so hot; Skin flush and nearly boiling underneath the clothing you still have on. It's all a wreck too, bunched in odd places and wrinkled. Not that it matters, in the long run.

Your legs flop limp away from him, and he leans back enough that his cock pulls out of you, as he quietly catches his breath. The insides of your thighs are slick and feel a mess, and you can feel the way his cum leaks out of you and onto the countertop.

Your legs feel like absolute mush; There's no way you'd be able to walk at the moment. Thankfully you don't need to, as your chest gently rises and falls with each caught breath.

"Warn a girl next time you're going to take her for a ride like that, yeah?" You joke, hoping to soften him up a bit. Crosshair is alway so aloof, no matter what the situation.

"You want a next time?" You glance up at him and see his softened eyebrows and tiny crook of his lips- he's clearly teasing you. It still makes you doubt for just a moment, however.

"Do you?" His face is close enough that you could tug him in for a kiss if you wanted, your hands now more gently just laying on the crook of his neck.

"Yes."

You'll stipulate that you'll be wanting a date first, but you can barter later.

Sliding off the counter with now steady legs you clean yourself and the refresher up to a presentable state and follow him out, thankfully not bumping into any unfortunate souls along the way. The worst thing imaginable, that would be.

But once you enter the main bar area again, it's not long before you notice the rest of the Batch, all standing around waiting. Echo is the first one to turn and notice you and his brother heading towards them, tilting his head.

"Where were you two?" Echo speaks up, raising his eyebrows. Instead of answering, Crosshair instead flips the question.

"Where were you? We've been waiting."

You were doing a little more than waiting it seems, having a silent conversation with Hunter as his eyes are on you. And, they look a little surprised. Any longer and he might just get keen, so you quickly invent a reason to leave them behind.

"I think me and Cross are gonna head back to the ship. We've had our fill of this place for tonight." They look about to speak up, but Hunter cuts off any objections.

"Be careful on the walk back, you two."

The two of you take your leave, the rest of the batch getting to have their night of fun while you two head back. The air outside is brisk but not enough to shiver, adjusting your clothes as the wind blows them awkwardly. Crosshair keeps exact pace with you, walking quite close- almost shoulder to shoulder.

"How long do you think they're gonna spend drinking?" You casually look up at him, swaying a little to the side while you walk and almost bumping into him.

"A while," He says, before glancing down at you with no shortage of suspicion. "Why?" You shrug.

"No reason."

[ken-dom]

30, kisses + Jacob

I forgot to add: x Sebastian or x reader, whichever you prefer.

Kisses 30. desperate kisses

∘₊✧ Sebastian Wilder x Jacob Palmer

∘₊✧ Heated kissing, public kissing, very needy Seb,

∘₊✧────────────────✧₊∘

Nothing much phased Jacob. That is, when he was in public, anyway. But he could feel the crease forming between his perfectly groomed brows when he saw the vague shape of Sebastian Wilder marching right toward him through the sparse crowd and an unfamiliar fluttering rose up from his stomach.

As Seb became clearer, Jacob shrunk inward a little, wondering what on earth he could be so worked up about, and that in turn caused a little thrill to spark through his core. It was a confusing but not unpleasant mixture of emotions. Exciting.

Sebastian looked hot, and by now Jacob could barely taste the pizza he'd been snacking on as his chewing slowed to a dismayed stop.

The pianist was an inch away now, and the slice was knocked clean out of Jacob's loose grip, dropping sauce-side down with an unceremonious splat onto the otherwise sparkling mall floor.

'Seb, wha- mmh-mh!-'

Sebastian's lips were hot, wet and hungry, devouring Jacob's in a needy kiss that made both their heads spin, and both their guts to flood with heat.

Demanding fingers slid under Jacob's blazer, tugging at his shirt and kneading longingly at the flesh beneath.

'Need- I need-' Sebastian tried between sloppy, desperate kisses, and Jacob knew what he needed but was far too dizzy, far too greedy to pause long enough to let Sebastian try and finish his sentence. Instead, he let Sebastian's tongue back into his mouth and relished in the way it slid against his.

'Come on-' Jacob managed eventually, 'mine... let's-'

Sebastian nodded, teeth almost piercing Jacobs bottom lip as he prized himself away with a reluctant growl. 'Yes. Yours. Now.'

[thecameronchronicles]

Midnight

TW: Dom!Rafe. Mentions of domestic abuse. Mentions of drugs and drug use. Language. Semi-public sex. Bondage. 

SUMMARY: Another rendezvous with Rafe leads to more. 

WORD COUNT: 2500

*ORIGINAL CONCEPT*

Midnight

I'm here. 

And like clockwork, your feet were set in motion to the threshold of The Wreck. A bag loose over your shoulder and an eager pep in your step and you were already moving to the truck whose licence plate you'd remembered from how often this display had presented itself. 

A text. A meeting. And an incomparable orgasm.

 All of which had been worth the need to meet under the cover of nightfall once finishing a closing shift. And yet, this time had been different. 

You weren't even able to close the passenger door before he had you already set to straddle his lap. And it wasn't until your lips collided that you learned why. 

A recent wound to his bottom lip interrupted the smooth existence of otherwise soft lips and the presence of wet cheeks explained this had not been a random need to come. This was emotional. A distraction. Again.

"Rafe..." He hesitated for only a moment to the break you made to summon his focus. But as your fingers gathered his polo behind careful grips, you found his at the back of your neck. 

"I don't need to fucking talk. I need to fuck." His words, although cold, were layered with secondary need. Even if his ambition had been selfish, what he truly desired had been what he didn't say. The comfort of your body committed to his, even if only for a moment. The promise of your return with each thrash of his body made against yours. And finally, the familiarity of the agreeable silence that came once you'd found a mutual high. An unspoken vow in which it would happen again, as either of you pleased and yet without the need for false affirmations. 

Yet, you were reminded of his desperation as he led your lips to his in a stiff collision of his tongue to part your mouth. A desperate gasp made him smirk until you offered the sacrifice of your dominance to trust him with submission. As if to show gratitude, the edge of each grip ate into your legs as you were taken harder against him. The rise of his cock, excitable and needy, at your lower thigh. Immediately, you would grind into him, his jaw in a tense. 

"Are you sure you want to do it here?" You questioned, eyes darting through the stygian black of the midnight hour as he brought you back to him with a renewed strength around the back of your neck. 

"Get in the back." You kissed him once more, surprising him as he would deepen it. What you intended to leave behind as a simple peck was adjusted into a breathless battle of dominance until he spoke his order again. 

"Get in the back." You moved as swiftly and gracefully as possible before feeling an abrupt seat on your ass. A smirk and gasp led to his grin while you continued to climb to your destination. It wasn't even a moment until he had followed suit. 

"Did I say to take anything off?" He shot, anger evident in his voice, even as you faced him to find soft eyes, still damp with recently expressed emotion. 

"My belt. Slowly." He redirected your focus to him as you obliged quickly. Overeager with your touch, you dismantled his belt as he grinned to such an overzealous nature. A bite to your bottom lip sent his hand back to your hair as he took you to his lips.

"You know what to do." He directed as he watched you place yourself at an angle to which you could undress him and prepare to take him behind the smile you knew he adored. 

"Yeah..." He breathed in relief. Of all vices, none felt quite like your lips wrapped around him. The way your cheeks hollowed to take him farther, suctioning the precum that had been promoted by just the thought of you. And lucky for him, he was absent the doe eyes looking up at him as he favored in bittersweet necessity as he'd come too quickly if witnessing you that way. 

"Stroke it while you-" He didn't need to finish his demand before you had your hand wrapped around him. Pumping him as you sucked as he was too much to take in without causing you immeasurable pain. Yet it was the same stretch and length that has you exhilarated to feel once more between your legs. 

"Fuck-" He groaned, his hips rising to meet your parted lips as you took him even deeper. Opening your throat and breathing through your nose, you took him expertly while accepting each short breath and curse of your name as an award. 

"Get on top of me. Panties off." He demanded as you rose, wiping a tear from your cheek before he took hold of your hand. 

"Keep them." You nodded and continued on your obedient subservience. Eyes remaining to him, he grinned before watching you produce your panties. 

"Red. My favorite..." He smiled with approval. "Did you want to see me?" 

You nodded. 

"Well I'm here. Don't even think about acting shy now..." He undressed you. You agreed as you moved to mount him. But instead, he bent you over the middle console of the car. 

"Let me see just how badly you wanted to see me..." With this, he positioned his knee to part your legs. Your bare sex on display for him. 

"Having my cock in your mouth making you drip like this for me?" You nodded.

 "Touch it. I wanna watch." 

Your fingers reached between your legs. 

"Just your clit. I wanna watch it drip until I make it pour..." You bit your bottom lip as he took hold of your panties. 

"You make it look so good...shit..."

"Please Rafe..." 

"You want me to fuck you?"

"Yes...please..."

"But you're doing so good on your own...but you know better than to come without me...right baby?" You nodded. 

"One finger...slow..." You groaned, offering one finger to yourself as you moaned in relief. 

"Oooooh...."

"Ride into it...Shit..." He took hold of your hair, pulling just enough to make you groan. 

"I need some..." He grunted. "Spit." He ordered as you saw him having used your panties to stroke himself into. 

"Don't worry, I'll come inside you...but I gotta use em...they were soaked for me after all, weren't they?"

"Yes!" You gasped. 

"Two fingers...let me see you fuck yourself for me..."

"Rafe....Oh fuck..."

"You wanna come?"

You nodded. 

"Keep going. Baby...I wanna watch you get close...I never get to see it..."

"Rafe...Rafe I want you..." He compromised with a hand to your breast, pulling you against him in the seat. His cock at your back as the fabric remained wrapped around him. 

"Keep going. You're shaking...I fucking love it when you shake for me..." He explained behind clenched teeth. 

"Rafe...." He took your hand, forcing it faster. 

"Rafe!!" 

"I love when you moan my name...but there's something special about when you scream it..." His hand came around your neck. 

"My turn..." He grinned against your cheek. 

"I think you're wet enough for me..."

"I'm soaked!" He turned you to face him. 

"I wanna see your face when you feel me...how easy I can get inside of you...how well you take me..." He led you up just high enough for him to align you to him. 

"Oh Rafe....." You moaned, eyes rolling closed. 

"You look like you came..."

"No...you feel..." He suddenly thrust inside of you, making you gasp. 

"Oh I know...got evidence dripping down my cock, baby...use it now...use my cock..." 

Bobbing over him, he guided you in depth and speed. He edged you in repetition while keeping both hands to your hips as you took hold of either seat in front of you. 

"This what you thought of putting on those red panties?" You nodded. 

"Tell me!"

"I wanted you to fuck me!"

"Tell me I'm all you need."

"You're all I need!" He held you in place. 

"Yeah baby, take it just like that...fuck..." He held you constricted against him. The tightness easily welcome by the accommodation of his breath to your shoulder. The threat of a bite made by the parting of his lips and rest of his teeth. 

"Is it too much for you?" 

"No. I-I can take it..." Almost frustrated at your acceptance of him, he pulled you by your hair until you were at an uneven rest within the backseat. Each of your hands were set on the left passenger side door as he pulled the seatbelt around your wrists, gathering them both, and pulling it tightly with his dominant hand. 

"You saying I'm too small? Not going fast enough?"

"No, I-"

"Well now you don't get to have any control." He grunted, aligning himself back inside of you with a harsh cataclysmic pistoning. The only audible sounds that came from your lips had been the weak whimpers that emerged from the reaction of him pounding into you once again. 

"Can you take this?" Your lips parted to speak but he only worsened your unintelligible lack of speech by pressing soft rolls over your clit as the other remained at a pull made of your hair. 

"This enough for you? Yeah?" You shook your head, tears brimming in your eyes from the consistent edging. 

"Never enough." You managed behind clenched teeth. 

"Make it up to me!" You were forced to face him, a tongue leaving you silent, as he battered himself into you. Every emotion, passion, and pain behind each penetration. Each scream made from you would be countered in the sensations made from his hand at your nipples or unsatisfying swipes made at your clit. Just as he could bring you to scream your release to him in a handful of minutes, he could also torment you on longevity. A master to temptation and tease, you were spent well before any pleasure had been able to remain for long. 

"Had enough?!" You hesitated. The anger in his tone, you knew a handful of times prior. All due to his father. All due to pain. All set to a relinquishment oh you could offer. 

"Use. Me." You spoke beneath whimpers. 

"What? Can't hear over how desperately you're taking me..." He scoffed. 

"Use me. Let me make you come...just don't stop..."

He slowed, turning you to face him. 

"I don't need your permission...." 

"I know-" You were suddenly relieved from his cock, a groan of bittersweet hesitation allowing him to pull himself from you. 

"Lay down." You shuffled awkwardly. Sweat and sore limbs making you falter as he smirked to his effect left on you. 

"You're already shaking and you haven't even come yet..." He lowered over you, keeping the belt around your wrists and holding them over your head. 

"You're gonna come for me. Hard and fast. All over my backseat. Right...now..." He spoke each order behind a cruel thrust as your body unlocked beneath him. A dam of sorts unleashed as you were allowed to express your lust shamelessly for him. And yet, your happiness would not come from the numbness that accompanied that orgasm, but in watching him rise to his own. 

"You want me to use you...then fucking take it-" He grunted, quickening and deepening himself inside of you. Anger fading to gratitude as he silenced himself at your breast. The majority of your mound taken behind his lips as he luxuriated into you. Your body used as his escape as you craved to touch him and validate the feeling was mutual. And yet, you remained bound as he pulled the belt tightly until the entire car shook to how he claimed you. 

"Rafe!" He kept you quiet with a kiss. A violent kiss. Not offered in care. But with the purpose to keep you silent. All because he knew what you were going to say. That compassion he didn't require to meet this cusp. He reminded you of this with a hold to your jaw. 

"Not a word." You closed your eyes to bask in his methods of therapy. His fingers running against your skin acted as the embrace he wouldn't allow himself to give you. Just as the kisses at your neck and mouth would be the words he couldn't say. And you wouldn't need him to. You knew. Just as he did. 

"I'm close...shit..." He grunted, your arms released from their bondage as he remained over you. Suddenly, in those final moments, he was no longer angry. He was relieved to have you in his arms. To have you in general. It showed in how close he held you. The race of his heart against your own chest, reminding you he was indeed human in contrast to the animal he could portray himself to be. Sometimes, even the demon. 

But as he rose from you now, hair stuck to his forehead as evidence of his tested stamina, eyes soft in appreciation and satisfaction, and lips parted just enough to feel his breath to your own developing smirk. 

"Rafe-" He kissed you, lips quick but soft. 

"You know the deal." 

"Texts. Sex. Next." He nodded before rising from you. 

"You know one time, we could talk."

"If I wanted to talk after, I'd have a girlfriend." He smirked. The idea seemed displeasing in accordance to him. Like oil and water. It made your stomach twist to imagine him with anyone else and you couldn't help but wonder if he felt the same for you. 

"You can talk to me, Rafe...It doesn't have to mean anything..."

"But it does." His words surprised you as you set your shirt back over your body, having forgotten where it was when he had disposed of it until this moment. 

"Everything does with you. You scare the shit out of me..." You smiled at this confession. Because you knew just as well as he did that it wouldn't always be this way. You needed more than he was willing to give. But each and every time you would want to walk away, he reminds you why it was you stayed. All because of those small fractions of time you caught his vulnerabilities. Only this time, he voices them. 

You scared him. Where near death overdose of cocaine hadn't. Where his father's knuckles to his cheek would leave him more angry than frightened. YOU had been what frightened the King Kook. 

"That's why it will stay like this." You nodded, knowing if small progress was all you could savor, then you shall. Because you'd rather have the crumbs of what he could offer than nothing at all. Because he was worth it. He was everything you wanted. And so, you'd wait…

TAGLIST: @hopebaker @drewspisces @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4tangerine @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @camilynn @sweetestdesire @onmykneesforrafe @jjmaybanksangel @phildunphyisadilf @mashdan0916 @belcalis9503

MASTERLIST

RAFE CAMERON MASTERLIST

2ND RAFE CAMERON MASTERLIST

MARCH MADNESS MASTERLIST

[callsign-phoenix]

I wrote this on popular demand, I hope you like it!

It is a part two to this Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x female!reader (x Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw) imagine.

Thank you @footprintsinthesxnd for proofreading!

Warnings: failed relationship, pregnancy, kissing an ex even though you’re in a new relationship, this fic is racially and body type inclusive despite the moodboard suggesting otherwise

Living with Jake and being involved in a romantic relationship was different than what you had experienced before.

While Jake had kept his distance before he was incredibly loving now, holding you and supporting you all the time.

He went back to work after a while even though he did so reluctantly, you were the one to encourage him for once because you knew he’d be in trouble if he didn’t go back.

You had talked about living accommodations because it had been your and Bradley’s apartment you were sharing.

But when Jake had talked to Bob about why he wasn’t at work he had told him that Bradley was staying at his place, which made the need to move trivial.

Jake shared a small apartment with Coyote that barely had enough space for his twin size bed, it would have been far too stressful to accommodate another person.

Jake was careful to give you enough space to get to terms with Bradley’s absence in your life, especially since he hadn’t talked to you once in the weeks following Jake’s assault on him.

It hit you hard and you really needed your personal space to figure things out, Bradley’s departure, the baby, and Jake’s feelings for you.

You realized that you loved Jake too, which evoked a feeling of relief but also guilt towards Bradley and the baby.

Jake considered your need for personal space and while he held or kissed you intimately he didn’t go any further.

You seldomly talked about Bradley but after a while Jake sat you down to talk to you.

You had just made a call for your first appointment with the doctor’s office for the pregnancy, and your heart was pounding in your ears.

You didn’t know what would happen to you and later the baby, and you were scared for your job and life in general.

Jake saw that and sat you down on the couch, his hands resting on yours reassuringly.

“If you want me to be I’ll always be there for you,” he started, squeezing your hand to give his words more weight.

“I’ve loved you since I’ve known you. And whatever you decide I’ll be there,” he went on and you gave him a defeated yet grateful smile.

Jake was silent as he watched you, knowing exactly what your fears were.

“I’d love to raise the baby with you,” he whispered carefully, and your mouth opened in shocked surprise.

You knew what kind of responsibility that was and you knew Jake was aware of it as well, which meant that his words only hit you harder.

“If you decide to be with me I will be there every step of the way and I’ll be as involved as you’ll let me. I would love nothing more than to raise the baby as my own,” he finished and you cried in response.

You were in love with Jake, especially after what he had said.

You lived together, cared for each other and went out together in public.

Jake was caring and attentive, making sure everything was alright with you.

You saw your friends again and went out with them, with Nat being supportive while the rest were reluctant, being close friends with Bradley as well.

While you were at the Hard Deck and the others were having fun drinking one evening Bradley came to join you.

It was the first time you saw him again and you were nervous, but he didn’t interact with you.

He was busy talking to his friends but you felt his eyes on you, especially whenever Jake embraced or kissed you.

You felt sorry for him, but you didn’t stop Jake from touching you the way he wanted to.

You didn’t like not talking to Bradley so you were relieved when you got back home, a place where you and Jake could relax again.

Jake had had a few beers and had to work the next day so he went to sleep, after asking if you were okay with it.

He was just getting ready when the doorbell rang, and you went to answer it.

You were surprised to see Bradley standing in the doorway and your heart started beating faster, out of nervousness or excitement you couldn’t say.

You didn’t say anything but stepped outside, pulling the door closed behind you as you did so.

“I’m sorry but I can’t do this,” Bradley let out as he stepped closer to you, invading your personal space just enough to establish an air of intimacy and on your part uneasiness.

You swallowed harshly as you looked at him, not sure what he meant by what he had said.

“He wants to claim what’s mine, and I’m not letting him have that,” Bradley said, lowering his head slightly to come closer, but you tried to step as far back as you could, finding yourself pressed against the wood of your front door.

“Just because Jake loves me doesn’t mean he wants to own me. It doesn’t work like that, I thought you knew better. You’re petty, Bradley,” you defended your new boyfriend, and your ex scoffed at you.

You were upset by what he had said and you wanted to go back inside, but you physically couldn’t move.

Instead your eyes were locked on Bradley’s, who stepped closer, pulling your hips against his.

“No, I just missed you,” he whispered as his fingers wrapped around your chin, gripping it tightly and pulling you in for a kiss that you immediately reciprocated.

You didn’t know if it were the pregnancy hormones or if you were still in love with him, all you knew was that you had missed Bradley much like a diver air to breathe.

part three

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[damagedintellect]

Trafalgar Law x reader

💌 Fake it till you make it: Chapter 12  💌  

Summary:  To avoid an arranged marriage set up by Doflamingo, Law needs to bring home a girlfriend during the Christmas break and you just so happen to be a theatre major in the same dorm at One Piece University. What could possibly go wrong?  

Tropes: College AU, Fake Dating, Idiots in love

💌 Word count: 4,487 💌 <= Previous Chapter | Next Chapter =>

Sanji took a long drag of his cigarette as he approached the manor. He didn’t want to be here. When he left the first time he promised himself that he would never come back and true to his word he hasn’t. Until today, it was the only way to get in contact with his “family” and even though Pudding personally handed him his invitation he wanted to do this for the rest of his nakama. It was the safest way to get everyone on the guestlist without raising suspicion. Even if only his sister agrees it would be better than nothing, otherwise he would be solely responsible for Luffy and he didn’t want that to be on him. Heaven knows what kind of a plan he has in his head, or lack thereof, especially since the only thing that he’s been repeating like a mantra is “I’m going to kick Mingo’s ass” and that wasn’t going to go over well with the media. The gates opened for Sanji’s arrival and he crossed his fingers that this would be an easy twenty minutes tops, in and out adventure. Ideally he’d like to finish convincing his siblings before his father caught word of his presence at the estate. Although just in case he prepared a back up plan, but he really didn’t want to use it.

As he passed through the courtyard he could already hear his siblings' colorful banter. They were always so lively. Taking another drag he then delicately extinguished the end before pocketing the rest. He observed from a far for a moment seeing if he could spot his sister around. Reiju’s company was always decent but she was always off doing who knows what. Luckily she seemed to be enjoying a book on the sidelines of whatever sport his brothers were partaking in. He slipped past his brothers easily as they seemed too involved with keeping the soccer ball in the air to notice him. Once he was right beside his sister she put the book down.

“You’re looking well Sanji. I’m surprised to see you here.” Reiju got a good look at him. She hadn’t seen him in over a decade. Sanji shifted where he stood “I wanted to ask a favor concerning the wedding coming up.”

Reiju smiled “Interesting, I assume you were accidentally invited then? You could have just let it be. I don’t think anyone would have even noticed-"

Sanji politely cut her off "No, I want to go. I was going to ask if you were already using your plus one." His sister's eyes widened at this. She would have thought for sure that he wouldn’t want to represent the Vinsmoke name in public. This was enough to grasp the attention of his brothers.

Yonji was the first to comment, whistling for emphasis “Wow, looks like the runt finally shot up.” The other sauntered up as he tried to compare his height. Despite Yonji being the youngest he was always the most competitive out of the bunch. Sanji only rolled his eyes waiting for Reiju to answer before he had to entertain his other siblings but it was kind of too late for that as the other two made their way over. Great.

“I thought you weren’t going to show your face around here again?” Niji voiced while still juggling the ball with his foot. Ichiji remained uninterested but since Sanji’s presence stopped their game. He figured he would at least see why his younger brother decided to turn up out of the blue. Sanji huffed, pulling out the cigarette again. He really thought he could make it a few minutes talking to his sister before he felt the need for the cancer stick but his brothers had that kind of effect on him. If he’s learned anything from his upbringing, asserting dominance was the only way to get through to them. Instead of explaining the situation he made his demands, “For the wedding I want everyone’s plus one invite.”

Ichiji’s face stayed uninterested but decided to ask anyways “What’s in it for us?” Sanji took a long drag feeling a little sick when adding “I have two lovely ladies that won’t be able to accompany me.” He left it at that for now, the blonde already felt gross using Nami and Robin as bargaining chips he would apologize to them afterwards. He knows they both could hold their own but the objectification of his friends doesn’t sit right with him but he couldn’t think of another way to get them on board.

Reiju smirked, slowly trying to piece together what Sanji was thinking by coming here and asking such a request. “You could have mine, it would be interesting to meet some of Sanji’s friends. I wonder what they’re like.” Seeing Reiju take the offer made Ichiji raise an eyebrow. Ichiji wasn’t going to bring anyone with him anyways so he didn’t really care one way or the other. It was rare for Sanji to exude such confidence. Ichiji decides it would be more entertaining if he let whatever the blonde had in mind happen. He turns to walk away before spouting “Do what you want.” giving a half wave before making his way into the manor. Upon hearing that Niji considers it “Hrm, I guess it depends if she’s well read. I have to keep in mind the media’s presence.”

Yonji looked shocked but also chipped in “You guys can have the boring bookworms I want the hottie! You’re still friends with the redhead right?”

Sanji grimaces remembering that Yonji actually met Nami once. “Yes, I’m still friends with Nami and Robin enjoys history and classic literature.” Sanji stated very flatly, maybe he should have gone with plan B instead. The only reason he didn’t was because he didn’t want to speak with his father. The two boys seemed satisfied with those answers and went right back to their game, leaving Reiju to motion for Sanji to sit.

“So what’s this all about. It must be important if you came all the way to the lion's den. This is more than just wanting your friends to attend the event isn’t it?”

Sanji took one last drag of his cigarette before stomping it out on the pavement and putting the trash on the table beside them. “Am I still that easy to read?”

She hummed mulling it over “More like big sister intuition. There’s not many reasons you would confront your past like this, not after what happened.” Sanji rubbed his hands together “It started out being for (Y/N)-chan but spending so much time with Pudding-chan and getting to know the real Pudding it just doesn’t sit right with me.” He clenched his fist “She should be able to have a choice in the matter, to marry for love rather than status.” Growing up under the Vinsmoke name he remembers not having a choice especially growing up being forced to be a child actor. It only got worse when his mother passed and his father started blatantly ignoring child labor laws. Unlike Sanji who made the choice to leave, Pudding felt threatened to stay.

“Reminds me so much of mom.” Reiju pointed out. “Hopelessly romantic, but that’s just like you. Never change that” She looked up, giving Sanji a wary expression. He didn’t have to turn around to know what that meant.

“I’d like to speak with you in private.”

It was the order Sanji was trying to avoid but he knows that if he were to ignore the impatient man it would be worse. He stood up and followed the man to his office in silence. Giving his sister a reassuring smile before disappearing into the estate. On their way the cook couldn’t help but notice the familiar dents in the wall. Battle scars from a different time when his brothers would push him around for not cooperating on set or refusing to show up for shoots wasting everyone else’s time. He knows now how immature that was but he didn’t know any better. He didn’t exactly have the greatest role models.

Standing outside the office after the fact was strange. Waiting for his father to round his desk was even weirder and the silence that followed was stifling. The elder didn’t sit. He stood facing an old family portrait that has since been covered in one corner where Sanji’s mother once was.

“Ichiji tells me you’re going to attend the wedding, after years of refusing the Vinsmoke name?” Judge doesn’t turn around, just waits for an answer or maybe an explanation. Sanji rolls his eyes “I am and I’ve come up with a proposition that unfortunately would please you as well as help out a dear friend.” He doesn’t have to look to know that the other is smiling; he can hear it in his voice “I’m listening?”

“I know your numbers haven’t been the same since Smile corp. pulled out of the deal, but what if I told you I had a way to stop the wedding and turn Big Mom against them instead.”

Judge finally turned around to meet his son eye to eye. “I would tell you, you’re finally thinking like a Vinsmoke.” He sat down gesturing for Sanji to do the same “ I’ve been meaning to deal with Doflamingo for a while now. Depending on what you have in mind you’d have my full support.” Reluctantly plan B was going to work better than expected.

—

Since that night with Law you were anxious yet relieved that it had settled a few things in your head. Contrary to popular belief Law did have a very good reason for putting on a front and being an asshat. He still loves you an ungodly amount and will make it up to you no matter what happens at the wedding. Doflamingo had been pulling all the strings the entire time. Where you stand with Pudding was a mystery but you don’t resent her, especially after watching her interact with her family but on the other hand you feel like you are forgetting something fairly obvious.

You have been the busiest you think you’ve ever been in your life. You’ve pretty much been attached to your phone making phone call after phone call to triple check everything was set for the wedding. The flowers, cake, entertainment and whatever else was detailed in her wedding binder were all under your jurisdiction, for some reason. You would think that with the power her family had someone else could have taken these responsibilities from you. Especially since this wasn’t any normal wedding. Currently you were glued to Pudding’s side in one of her family's vacation homes that was a scenic retreat and close to the venue. You’ve kept contact with the others to a minimum and you're not sure what the plan even is. You’re getting nervous. Sure you haven’t reached out and you felt partially responsible for coming up with a real plan, but you would think that someone could have contacted you at some point but no one did and now it’s the day before the reckoning and you're kicking up dirt. The most you could remember was that the Vinsmoke family has a beachfront villa near Big mom’s.

Tonight was the rehearsal dinner and it was pretty much just for everyone involved in the ceremony to figure out how to enter, where to stand, and lastly where to go after the fact. You flipped through the binder again trying to check over a fourth time that you hadn’t forgotten anything when there was a knock at the door.

“Come in.”

You looked up from the book to see Pudding looking at you feeling overwhelmed. “Sorry I didn’t mean to bother you but my family keeps arriving and I don’t want to greet them.” You blink at her a few times “You want to talk about it, or just need a spot to hide.”

Pudding was perplexed. “Why would I want to talk about it with you?”

You shrugged “I don’t know, just thought I’d ask. I don’t have much to do until tonight when I inevitably blow a gasket,” you flipped back through the binder to the page with her family on it, gesturing to the book “That and I’ve been curious as to why some of these faces are crossed off.” Pudding was caught off guard. She slowly sat in the chair across from you. Over time you’ve both accepted that you have a strange relationship. Where you are not quite friends but you couldn’t exactly say you were enemies either and you knew for a fact you weren’t rivals, especially when Pudding doesn’t even like Law at all. Pudding has pretty much treated you like shit so she still doesn’t understand the reason you keep being nice to her. It’s not like you have to, it’s just not in your nature. It takes too much effort trying to navigate this weird set of circumstances. Why waste your energy?

“You just want information to use against me for revenge.” she spat childishly.

You snorted “I can think of hundreds ways I could have gotten revenge or embarrassed you by now,” it’s technically true you had thought about it but now knowing that your assumption was correct, that Doflamingo has been watching your every move, it gives you more of a reason not to act on the ideas. “So spill I have to interact with your family too ya know.”

She stared back at you wide eyed before looking away “I mean,” Pudding started off wondering if she should actually tell you or just make up a lie. It’s not like she owes you the truth. “I have a big family, there were bound to be people I didn’t get along with.”

There was something about the way she said it that told you that it wasn’t entirely true but it wasn’t entirely false either, you didn’t try to pry. It was already more of an answer than you thought she would give you “Yeah, I get’cha. I might be an only child but I’m only so so on my extended family. It’s like fool me once, I kill you.” She grinned at your dumb joke grabbing for the binder on the table. “There was one sister that I really wanted to invite but I was told not to.” She flipped through the pages until it landed on one where the picture was crossed off in red instead of black “Lola was my favorite sister. I used to follow her around all the time and she was always really nice to me. Despite our age difference she didn’t treat me like some of our other sisters.” Pudding smiled fondly remembering.

“I used to idolize her because she was the only one of my siblings that wasn’t afraid of standing up to our mother.” Pudding could vividly remember the day Lola told her mom that she didn’t want to be a patisserie. It was also the reason that she decided to take up the mantle instead. For the sake of the sister she loved.

“So what happened?” you were actually invested since you’ve never heard Pudding talk highly about anyone other than Sanji.

“She,” Pudding paused as the joy in her voice faded out, “didn’t want to marry who mama set up for her.” she articulated the rest with a frown as her fate started to sink in. You could see the gears turning in her head as she sullenly looked at her feet. It seems she’s come to the same conclusion as you. You wanted to reach out but you didn’t know how to comfort her. There was probably nothing that you could say that would make her feel better about the situation she was in.

She has gone her whole life being told what to do and how to act similarly to Law with Doflamingo but at least Law has Corazon. Had Corazon. A sour taste fills your mouth as it finally dawns on you that everyone’s parents are just playing with their children like little dolls and it makes you sick to your stomach. An image from your past flicks to the forefront of your mind of a time when your parents were around. It was the moment you decided that you wanted to be an actor because the one thing you wanted more in life was to make everyone you meet feel moved in some way shape or form but simply put, you just wanted to make people smile. For all the days that you didn’t feel good enough.

Both you and Pudding were on the verge of tears. For different reasons but god you felt pathetic about it. You need to stop inserting yourself into other people’s business because at this point you just keep digging yourself a bigger hole.

Hole.

Oh no, you were afraid you forgot something. Snatching the binder off the table startled Pudding as you agonized over the small detail you missed. There had been a hole in the binder where before and after pictures of the wedding were supposed to go. Today would be the last day to take them. A lightbulb went off in your head as you looked out the window. You still had a few hours before the rehearsal. You needed to make another phone call, you had a vision.

“Pudding, get the girls ready and meet me at the beach in an hour,” you stood confident as you sent out a text to the boys to do the same. “We forgot to take photos at the beach!”

She looked up at you stupefied. “Of all the times I thought to myself “What does Law even see in you” I think I finally understand.” You tilted your head to the side “Huh?”

She giggled at you, waving her hand in front of her face to mask the fact that her eyes were watering. “Nevermind, I’ll let everyone know.” As Pudding left the room she smiled bittersweetly. You were such a genuine person it hurts sometimes. One day she would be deserving of your friendship.

—

Sanji was relieved when he got your call. Having his friends meet his family had been a nightmare. Luffy had almost immediately threatened his father upon arrival and if it hadn’t been for Zoro he’s sure that Luffy would have run at him by now. His sister gets along too well with all of his friends in an almost unsettling kind of way and Yonji has not stopped trying to flirt with Nami despite her clear lack of interest. So the moment you gave him an out with the prospect of taking pictures of Pudding he grabbed Luffy and bolted. Not wanting to think about the repercussions of leaving Zoro, Nami and Robin with his siblings.

As Sanji approached everyone on the beach he held up his camera “Hear you guys needed a photographer!”

You and the girls were already in formation waiting for the boys to make their way down. You wanted to take a series of pictures, just the girls, just the guys, then everyone together and lastly one of Pudding and Law. It would be bizarre if they didn’t have a couples shot and you could sense Doffy staring at you from somewhere in the distance but you couldn’t pinpoint where. When you turned around to greet your friends you stumbled a bit at Luffy’s usual running jump hug.

Luffy snickered before whispering “Don’t worry we have a plan, it’s all taken care of.” Your eyes widened not truly knowing what he meant by that but you didn’t have time to ask nor was this the place. That’s when the boys and Law made their way over to you and Law got tackled by Luffy as well.

Sanji had started dabbling in photography around high school after Nami and Chopper made comments that he should make a food blog. He hadn’t taken many pictures of people but the same rules of composition should still apply. It didn’t take long since everyone was waiting around anyway. Although when it was Pudding and Law’s turn, it just didn’t look right.

Sanji was getting annoyed at Law’s detached, almost clinical expressions. “At least hold her shoulder or her hand or something and would it kill you to smile.” Sure he understood the situation but everyone else was playing along just fine. Law only rolled his eyes putting his hand on Pudding’s shoulder. “Like this?”

“No, no absolutely not. You look like a cardboard cut out.” Sanji handed you the camera as he marched over to demonstrate “Move.” The blonde shooed the surgeon away so he could delicately pull Pudding towards him with a loving look on his face. Needless to say, you snapped a picture of it. Law rolled his eyes following exactly to the letter how the cook held Pudding. You gave him a wink right before Sanji took the picture just to mess with him. The face he made was priceless. The best part was he couldn’t say shit.

After that Sanji and Luffy left as everyone else made their way to the venue for the long awaited rehearsal. For once all you had was to sit back and be told what to do and where to go which was a load off of your shoulders. If you didn’t have to be up early to meet with the hairstylists and the florist you would have had a drink. You’ve definitely earned one. The night shockingly went well. There were a few little comments from Linlin and Doffy. Nothing serious, more placement things above anything else, but other than that the two seemed satisfied with the endeavor. You watched as Pudding finally relaxed at dinner and took that as you cue to finally breathe easy. The hard part was almost over now you just had to trust that Luffy and co. had everything else figured out. Which was daunting and probably would keep you up for at least another hour or so. You tossed and turned trying to get comfortable. This might be a problem if you can’t get to sleep at a reasonable hour.

—

Across the way Pudding was also having a similar dilemma. No matter how she laid down she couldn’t get comfy. She added more pillows, blankets, even stuffed animals but it didn’t lull her to sleep and it didn’t ease her mind about tomorrow either. It was a big day. Dare she say the most important day of her life. Not that marriage was the most important event for a lady but this would be the most important social event for the Charlotte family business and she didn’t want to ruin their reputation. After all this isn’t really about her and maybe that’s why she’s bothered?

Pudding got up from the bed opening the curtains on her window to view the moon. Maybe she needed to clear her head before she made such an important decision. Without anymore stalling she put on her night slippers and slipped outside through her balcony. When she got to the sands edge she took off her slippers leaving them by the stairs and casually strolled along the beach as if the sand against her feet would give her the courage or answers she was looking for. The soft sound of the waves crashing distracted her enough to where she didn’t hear the footsteps closing in, not until a familiar shadow joined hers did she turn around in a panic.

“I didn’t mean to startle you! I just saw you out here and thought a walk on the beach didn’t sound that bad.” Sanji looked away sheepishly fixing his hair to give his fidgeting fingers something to do. She lightly pushed his arm rubbing her face. “As if you could scare anyone with that dopey smile of yours.” They laughed and walked along the water's edge enjoying each other’s company. Talking about whatever came to mind at the hour.

Once Pudding deemed that they were far enough away from the villa she let the water run over her toes. Letting the icy water and cool breeze cover her skin. Right now she feels free even if she’s never known true freedom. “When you left your family, were you nervous?”

“Are you nervous?”

They both stared at the moon. Pudding hummed “Not really, I know what’s expected of me.” She was already walking a fine line and despite everything she would be willing to cross it. “I’ve already made my choice.”

—

You were finally about to drift to sleep when you thought you heard a soft knock at your door and being as paranoid as possible you bolted upright. You swear if it’s nothing and was just the wind or something you’re going to scream. You opened the door slowly to be met with Doflamingo. A chill ran down your spine as you straightened out. “Doffy? Is there something I could help you with?” You wondered aloud. To be honest you were half expecting it to be Law or Pudding. His expression was hard to read and he didn’t speak immediately which was rather unnerving but you had to stand your ground. This was a test both of your will and of your patience.

“I didn’t get the opportunity earlier to thank you for everything you’ve done for the occasion. I’m sure if Corazon were here he’d have showered you in praise. I’d like to show my gratitude somehow.”

The level of unease was insurmountable but you tried to stay calm offering a frank “Well I am Pudding’s maid of honor. There’s really no need to thank me for doing my job.” Your heart was pounding in your chess as he approached resting a hand on the small of your back to lead you out of the room and down the hall. The door behind you closed with a soft click. You didn’t dare look back, you kept looking forward and playing along with whatever game the blonde was getting at.

“Nonsense, it’s the least I could do. I know how much work goes into lavish social occasions. I do have to say you’ve exceeded my expectations.”

“H-have I now? You cursed yourself for stuttering but you were terrified.

Doflamingo opened the door to his room and motioned for you to go inside first. “You have,” he dipped down to whisper in your ear “Not many people manage to successfully pull off a heist underneath my surveillance.”

You turned around sharply to see Doflamingo holding up a picture taken from the bachelor party. It was during your set as you were about to spin on the pole. The blood drained from your face.

He knows.

Thoughtlessly you took a step back into the room and were grabbed from behind. A damp cloth muffled your panic before it all faded to black.

___

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[cere-mon-ials]

2022 in kdramas

*that I finished

I spent my January nursing all that The Red Sleeve broke (my heart), nourishing what it gave me (provocation to write, notes here), cursing what it did for my overall k-drama viewing expectations. I am still mad that Lee Se-young wasn’t recognised for what she did in TRS, a show that belongs to Deok-im and her alone. I had finished Good Manager a day before, a long-winded bromance between Namkoong Min and Lee Jun-ho. I didn’t think much and truth be told, I don’t remember much either. Happiness fell flat after three episodes; stayed for the remaining episodes because of the excellent chemistry between the main characters. I evidently watched Coffee Prince many years too late but I saw every reason why I might have never finished school if I had seen it earlier.

Run On kept me thrilled on occasion, became white noise otherwise. I loved seeing my two joys, running and translation, woven into the show, loved the miracle of found friendships and homes, and a defiant writing philosophy that healthy relationships are worthy of being probed. Despite how unbearable Our Beloved Summer was about Ji-woong’s unrequited love, I could see the good-naturedness of the story writer-nim was trying to tell. I loved watching why the two leads fell apart and what brought them together. I loved that this had something to do with communication but I loved even more, that it just had to do with having grown up and realising you can love something you’re not and that’s one way to experience life. Kairos is the most underappreciated show that tackles time-travel. Great writing with exceptional attention to detail.

February was spent with the duology of the Ahn Pan-seok—Kim Eun—Jung Hae-in universe, the k-drama equivalent of Austenian bliss. Both shows benefit from Kim Eun’s thesis that romance may be intimate but love, in a patriarchy, demands a public that must accept it. Ahn Pan-seok is the finest orchestrator of moments that feel like the time lapse that falling in love is, that thing that people often reduce to soulmatism or violins at first glance. In One Spring Night, it works. In Something in the Rain, it fails because Kim Eun was still finding her voice as a writer who is stumped by what makes for the ‘right’ kind of conflicts in a 16-episode arc. I don’t think that’s the only problem with SITR but it’s the one she solved with marvelous elegance in OSN. In both shows, the main leads are charmingly, refreshingly communicative with each other. But it is in OSN, where Kim Eun figures out that being vulnerable is not the same as talking about vulnerable things, and how to make it count for all relationships that matter. Son Ye-jin and Han Ji-min, I love you both equally.

In March, I began paying an honorarium to the guard of my Jang Hyuk horny jail. Deep-rooted Tree made me cry in at least 14/24 episodes. A Joseon murder mystery wrapped in a drama about accessible language as the beginning to breaking down class barriers and nation-building, with nerdy love for character interiority? I ate that up. Han Seok-kyu is the only reel King Sejong ever. Just like Jang Hyuk is the only reel Bang Won ever. My Country: The New Age is a shallow show with hilarously lofty dialogues and masterful action sequences. In my most generous reading, MCTNA attempted to ask if Bang Won’s modernity could have come at a lesser price; is modernity not equivalent to audacity? Woo Do-hwan is almost as good at portraying audacity as Jang Hyuk.

Having Park Eun-bin and Kim Min-jae play Brahms in a riveting duet is exactly what Do You Like Brahms? set out to do. Introverts are rarely done well on the screen and getting it right with not one, but two leads is an achievement too. If you are a person fuelled by that mystical "passion," the creative arts industry can be a cruel place. Chae Song-ah is, by all accounts, not as talented as the others around her, and this is not a story of stick-with-it-till-you-rise-from-the-ashes. Even the hope that it might be is wonderful writing because Song-ah is far more assertive than anybody gives her credit for, like a baby who holds onto your finger with shocking strength. In classical music especially, there is no such thing: you are good or you are out. Park Joon-young is great and yet, he is begging for an out, because being good is just the beginning. These two and the other characters are deeply in love with music and they want to protect that love. They all find out that in the end that love needs sustenance, not protection.

I binged Fated to Love You in April, in a private experiment to see how much Jang Hyuk brainrot I can take. (Let’s remember this is a summary of the shows I finished.) I came out of it with brainrot for one more Jang. Outrageous show, outrageous star power. Soundtrack No. 1 was a forgettable experience save for the fact that I am now a person who looks up Park Hyung-sik’s MDL page on the reg. I think everybody is right about Twenty-Five Twenty-One: (a) Baek Ye-jin and Na Hee-do were always going to break up (b) It was a terribly-conceived finale. Two other opinions I am going to leave here: (c) Ji Seung-wan, darling of my heart, should have been the lead for the show that writer-nim actually wanted to do. (d) More people would see this, and also may have responded with thoughts beyond ship discourse, if Na Hee-do was played by anyone other than Kim Tae-ri.

I think people were right about criticising Lee Soo-yeon’s Grid too. The science of time-travel took some leniency. I get why the finale would have been unsatisfying, even as a setup for a potential second season. But I offer that the thesis of LSY’s shows is never in how they end, because they are not moral science lessons for the future. Grid’s deeply introspective themes of time-travel and the greater good begins with the the sun, the most reliable force in a human's life, turning against mankind. This immediately takes away a human as ultimate antagonist, when it easily could have been. For LSY, the future is the darkest place with unknowable power and we have the task of paving a path of light towards it. Time-travel is not the science-fiction component with which to imagine our behaviour in an unrecognisable, but possible, place. It’s the fucking fantasy. Even if we got the chance to change the past, we really couldn't. The future is what we have got to change and the present to make the first move. Those dreams of going back, repenting hard enough, flirting with what ifs? Not going to cut it. LSY's meta elegance is in bringing the intensely personal version of this theme in parallel to the big one: divorce. FWIW, she had all these threads tie together by Episode 7. I get why she said Grid is the next iteration of her life's work—an exceptional mind.

Park Min-young could have chemistry with a rock, and thank god, Seo Kang-joon isn’t one. When The Weather Is Fine is the rightest show about life in the countryside. It nails the fine line of a tight-knit community that shows up for you and also, how easily they can be the first source of judgement, as people who know your secrets. Best book club in a k-drama. Very well done pining. Imo is my favourite character and she should publish that novel because “Hey. Who do you think killed my brother-in-law?” is a banger opening line. I first saw Lee Jae-wook in this show.

During the weekends of April and May, there was My Liberation Notes. I watched it like a scheduled therapy session, although I do not think Park Hae-young is aiming for catharsis with her works (despite it seeming like the most common outcome). I didn’t have the word “healing” in my everyday vocabulary so often before k-dramas. It’s a genre of k-drama that is meant to be comforting, to inject slowness into everyday life as an antidote for the ills of modern society. Bullshit. There are multiple wide shots of the Yeom family tending their farms, eating in peace amid the greenery, and they are claustrophobic. It might feel like complaints, and you’re free to think that. But PHY knows, as most people my generation do, finding an escape is actually really easy. That’s not the point. The point is to be less sad about being who you are; to know that who you are is enough to make a living, find love if you want it, make peace with your family. This show is about siblings as the real loves of your lives.

I don’t remember what I was doing in June.

Pachinko is not a k-drama strictly speaking, but let’s do it. I adore Min Jin Lee and I am afraid to admit how emotionally attached I am to the world of Kogonada’s eyes. In MJL's book, the linear structure is meant to make you feel like the history of a family can also be a history of the other themes that consume intellectual space. In the show, there is no such thing as a past, or a history. Nothing is done, nothing is over and under the rug. You see Sun-ja’s and Solomon’s stories at the same time because there's no distance that makes what happened then far enough from what's happening now. For this alone, Pachinko is a superior adaptation. I have a shrine for every woman in this show. Watching Yumi’s Cells 2 has been among the happiest experiences of my TV viewing life. Bloody Heart could have been bloodier. I respected that it reached a conclusion without feeling the need to give a neat answer to its central question of assertive power as driver of both unity and chaos—there’s humility in realising that the answer need not be determined in one generation. Jang Hyuk thirst got me into the show, Kang Hanna’s outstanding face and smarts kept me there. Lee Joon’s Lee Tae nearly made me quit. Park Ji-yeon, muah. I watched the back half of Signal in July. It is no fault of the show that I was zapped out of will to see women being killed. There were two scenes of Kim Hye-soo’s that wrecked me bad, I had to quit watching for couple of days. Thank you to the makers for giving a genre-defining template. (Kairos did do it better.)

Alchemy of Souls was super fun as a weekly watch. Daeho is boring to me as a setting and the plot ventures into territories worthy of critical thought once in a blue moon. But I admire the ambition, and the storytelling does have its moments. Lee Jae-wook is a menace. Inhaled Rookie Historian Goo Hae-ryung over four days; I enjoyed it. Extraordinary Attorney Woo tried. I also binged Reply 1997. Reply 1988 is always going to be my favourite and I am not going to watch R1994 for a conclusive test of veracity.

Between these shows, their endearing efforts at being fulfilling shows about love of different kinds, I nibbled on episodes of My Mister. I couldn’t watch two episodes together; it was so potent, so unbelievably demanding of my attention in every way imaginable, and I gave it willingly. I wrote about the show here.

October brought the best mystery/thriller show of the year: May It Please The Court. It was written with a clear idea of how much to bite, knew how to chew on it, and that’s why it also landed the best conclusion of the year. The show is astute about forgiveness and justice, and well, forgiveness in justice. I think the show’s success is in how it trusted both its characters and the audience to process what this means to them. Jung Ryeo-won and Lee Kyu-hyung have impeccable married energy from first scene. Lee Sang-hee is the best, the hottest, the finest.

Little Women is the mystery/thriller show with the most potential of the year. It wasn’t until episode 11 that the show lost me but I do think the flaws began revealing themselves a lot earlier. I didn’t appreciate the show’s insistence that the central crime of the show was Sang-ah’s murders and not the patriarchal cult that pretends to be a meritocracy. I thought the Vietnam War references were in conversation for a whole different reason: I viewed it as a nod to the first war where losing means more than winning. That war is the blueprint for the 21st century exertion of control for the right to capital and target audience, rather than mere territory and pride. But this symbolism wasn’t what came through and I understand those who pushed back on how the war's references, along with an exotic flower, rang hollow. LW did get characterisation right, particularly the way poverty alters how intelligence is perceived and valued. It’s ambitious premise—that Louisa May Alcott was wrong in deciding these sisters would taper their poverty with unusual politeness—is radical.

I will rewatch the first 11 episodes of May I Help You in several trying days of my future. Baek Dong-joo and Kim Tae-hee, butlers to the dead and the alive respectively, are companions, friends and lovers, in that order. What's not to love? The acts asked of them are rarely grand but they are delivered with emotional heft. I forgive all the detours taken from episode 12. I tend to find it dull when everybody and everything is connected to each other. In this one's ending, it's quite lovely. I see the vision in saying that we only know Dong-joo’s story because that’s the story we have tuned into. The miracles could be happening to anyone at all. I wish writer-nim wasn’t so Christian throughout—the throwaway line about suicide put me off. Best piggy-backing scenes in a rom-com and also, favourite kiss, I am going to say.

[dreamstone28737]

I demand a WIP quote (please? Also thank you).

Aww🥰 Okay!!

I have this one Bridgerton story I want to work on that’s set in the Regency. (Writing in the regency is very intimidating!) In my head, I’ve titled it “Regency Runaways,” and it’s a canon-compliant story in which Kate and Anthony steal a few days away from the prying eyes of then public before they’re married. I have a detailed outline, but just a tiny little bit actually written:

“My need for solitude barely lasted a day before I realized that I did not wish to be alone at all. I wished to be away from society. Simply put, what I truly wanted was to be alone with you.”

But I am going to put something extra out there for you— because otherwise I honestly don’t think it’ll ever see the light of day. 😆

About two years ago I tried to do a modern Poldark AU in which Demelza left Ross after his infidelity, and then began dating Hugh (with Ross/Demelza endgame). It was very angsty but therapeutic for me. I never finished it and I don’t know that I ever will, but I know you from that fandom so I unpacked a tiny piece of it for you:

While she wavered, Ross took the opportunity to ask: “Are you here on your own?” Was it her imagination, or did the question sound a little… shy? Had he hesitated as he began to ask it?

Taking another deep breath, Demelza resolutely met his eyes. After all, she reminded herself, she had nothing to be ashamed of.

“No,” she began slowly. “I’m not. I’m here…Actually I’m here with…”

There was nothing for it. Hugh had almost reached their little circle. She steeled herself.

“I’m… on a … date.” She stammered out (rather lamely, she thought) as she felt Hugh’s hand graze the small of her back. Her eyes instinctively rushed to meet Ross’s, and she immediately wished they hadn’t.

The glowing expression on his face had fallen completely. He looked…rather crestfallen. His hurt expression bore right into Demelza. Even Verity’s countenance betrayed a startled reaction.

You’re doing nothing wrong. You’re doing nothing wrong. He has no right to be upset. Yet her heart squeezed in her chest - a painful tightening - at the look of hurt in his eyes.

Thank you for the ask (even if it got a little long)!! I love your writing a whole bunch so I’m kind of fangirling. 🥰

[the-andromeda-effect]

12

A knock at the door had Adira and Caliban’s heads turning quickly, as the medic came in to look at her hand.  He let Caliban know that Svarog’s gunshot wound was only superficial and stitches had been all that was required, but there had been quite a bit of bleeding.  He’d need some time off to rest and heal, but otherwise he’d be fine.  Nothing to worry over.

After cleaning the cut, even Caliban could see how deep it was.  She had gotten lucky though, none of the tendons had been cut.  Whether there would be any nerve damage would have to wait until it started healing.  The medic could apply stitches, but only a neurologist or hand surgeon would be able to do more.  That would require a trip to the hospital, which Caliban had already been debating.  In the end it was Adira who decided to just have the stitches at the mansion.  Mircea knew many people at the hospital, and she didn’t want to take a chance on being recognized.  Not yet.  Not so soon.  If there were problems later, they could figure out how to get a specialist involved.

After the stitches were in and the hand bandaged, Caliban took the bloody towel she had previously had her hand wrapped in.  He had an idea on how to keep Mircea from suspecting anything, at least for a while.  Once Adira was seen in public with him, there might be some talk that they would have to deal with; but for the short term it would be a solution.  Her wedding rings from Mircea were still up in his bedroom.  By putting her blood all over them and returning them to him, it would hopefully confirm somewhat in his mind that she was indeed dead.  Then with having her secluded with him at his cabin for a while, where he could even work remotely, there would be time away to let everything settle within the society he ran in.  Hopefully that would give her a bit more of a sense of security as well.

Once the medic had left, Caliban sat quietly with Adira waiting for Theron to arrive with a car to take her up to the main mansion.  He figured the delay was that Theron and Lars were talking outside, and possibly others that had witnessed the shooting.  No doubt Theron wanted to know how things could have gone so sideways so quickly, a question that  he had himself.  Once Adira was back up at the house and resting, Caliban was going to start demanding answers and someone better have some; or there was going to be hell to pay that would make Mircea Kalavati look merciful.  

Finally Theron appeared, looking a bit drawn and frustrated.  It was clear that whatever he had found out was not good.   “Why don’t I take Adira back up to the mansion so she can rest while you handle things down here, Caliban?”  While Theron was concerned about the woman, it was Caliban he was fully focussed on.  He wouldn’t say more, not with her sitting there.  Caliban was not a stupid man, he would have to figure it out.  “Theron?” Adira was the one that spoke, looking between the two men.  “I…I…”  Now both men were looking only at her.  She was trying to find words, but was failing, she was still so scared.  She didn’t want to go with Theron, even if she trusted him.  “No.”  Her head shook as her voice came out shaky and quiet.  “Caliban can take me up.  I want him with me.” She was now looking at the floor and fighting not to completely collapse over the weight of all that happened.  She was holding Caliban’s hand and her grip on it tightened, feeling like it was a lifeline to sanity.   

Caliban pulled her to him and cradled her head on his shoulder, before Adira had even finished speaking.  Someone was going to pay for what had gone on, more than just the dead guard outside.  There had been more than one failure that got it to this point.  Softly he kissed her head as his hand gently soothed her back as she softly began to sob against the side of his neck.  His eyes closed, he hated not being able to do anything to soothe her, to make everything that had transpired that morning disappear from her memory.  

Theron looked between the couple on the couch, he too was not a stupid man.  “Of course, Adira.  I’m sorry for thinking you would have no problem otherwise.  I did not mean to upset you.”  Things were about to be very bad, he could tell from the way Caliban was caring for her.  Already both of them were accepting her into their lives in her new role, and that meant that whoever threatened her would face a severe  retribution..  “He is going to need to come back down here at some point, unfortunately.  The men need to talk to him.  Who do you want to stay with you at the mansion, once you are settled?  I promise that we are not going to leave you up there alone.” He was treading much more carefully now.  His voice was warm and understanding, realizing that he might not fully know all that had happened.  He was not going to ask either.

“I..I..I don’t know.”  Adira said around choked sobs, her arms now around Caliban tightening as she clung to him.  “Can anyone keep me safe from Mircea?” Her eyes closed and she pressed against Caliban; he was the only one that she truly believed and trusted could.

“Theron, why don’t you stay with her and I’ll send up two more guards when I leave.”  Caliban again kissed her head.  “Theron will stay in the room with you and the others will be right outside the room.  You need to rest and I need to find out what happened to lead to this.  We’ll get you settled first and comfortable.”  His hand gently ran over her hair in a soothing manner.  Keeping her calm was his top priority at the moment. “Mircea is not going to get to you. I’ll kill him first, do you understand me?”  Caliban’s tone was soft and comforting for someone who had just promised death to her ex-husband. “No one hurts what’s mine.”  His arms tightened around her as his eyes met Theron’s.  The expression on Caliban’s face did not match his comforting tone, instead it was one of intense fury. It was one Theron knew, and knew well.  It was one that the men outside had best fear.

“Ok.”  It was said so softly that neither Theron nor Caliban were sure that they had heard it, but her nod reinforced that Adira had said something.

[hannieween]

hi so you didn't ask but here's my bf!joshie headcannons (not necessarily CL couple, just yeknow ,,,, joshie):

always running up to him to give him a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek when you've been away for a lil while (him picking you up from work, meeting up at a party, etc)

Having his right hand in your left whenever you're walking together, your right hand wrapped around his bicep

Or, if you're not holding hands, he has an arm around your shoulders or your waist and has you tucked into his side

Always sitting beside him whenever you're out with friends, either at dinner or at someone's house, etc

Joshie likes to give forehead kisses or nose kisses :3

If someone can't reach josh (he's terrible at answering his messages smh) they call you instead (but if you're like me you just ,,,, always have your phone on silent too I'm sorry I work in a hospital ok my patients need sleep!!)

Joshie being a slow eater and you being a slow eater too so you just take forever to finish a meal like no joke dinner is like a 1 hr event MINIMUM. It's even worse when you go out for food....

Doing crafts together because it's fun to have your partner wearing a bracelet you made, etc

BUT THE PLOT TWIST NOW!!!

you HAVE to give joshie a hug and kiss on the cheek when you see him otherwise he'll whine and absolutely DEMAND kisses (on the lips!! In public!!!) and be SO loud and embarassing about it smh

He HAS to hold your hand etc when you're out or else he gets mad and wraps his arms around your waist and makes you waddle walk (like dude do you have any idea how busy it is rn stop you're being a menace we're blocking the path ;~;)

he demands that you sit right beside him as close as you can get. If you sit somewhere else he gets pouty and makes you sit on his lap for the rest of the night. Follows you to the bathroom too. he doesn't even look away when you pee like ???????? and he just goes "what if you disappear on me again :("

him being awful to reach at his cell but he has it set that your notifications and calls etc goes through. that or he just ignores anything that doesn't have your name on it. his friends have started beginning their texts with your name just to get him to open the message like josh be so fuckin fr rn oh my god

Joshie being a slow eater BC he's a slow eater but also he likes watching you eat and talking to you while you eat. Gives you more food so he can watch you happily munch for longer

crafting a bracelet for him and he never takes it off even if it starts to get gross and the beads are fading like josh oh my god please I'll make you a new one just give that one a rest it's on life support PLEASE

Making him another bracelet and instead of taking off the first he wears both bffr rn josh fuck

All in all, menace. Fucking annoying little shit. But he's so clingy and in love with you I swear he looks at you like you hung the up moon but you always say his eyes twinkle with all the stars in the sky. He's your person, your missing piece and despite how (jokingly) awful he is, you feel antsy if you're away from him for even a minute longer than you need to be. Joshie is your soulmate and you're sure he's just waiting for you to give him the OK before he proposes. You just know him that well. (Also he's not discreet and you found a ring box with a 15 page printed document listed "proposal plan FINAL VERSION". Fuckin nerd)

oh my god?? unprompted??? i read these on the clock and i went through things tbh

v, can i take some of these and write them in lights out? 👉🏻👈🏻 pretty please? 🥹 you'll get full credit obvi

i don't know but i love the thought of joshua being so clingy he follows you to the bathroom he is literally the worst ugh i want him bad 😭🩵