#like this dude is in his thirties saying I have to give him something in return for deleting my pictures from his blog 🫠

[sicklysweetgf]

hey if you don’t delete someone’s nudes/lewds when asked you’re the asshole 🙃

[mostly-imagines]

Hi!! If you're up to it do you think you could write something about the first time Jason brings his gf to the manor. Like maybe he brings her in but doesn't tell anyone and so everyone is trying to sneak a glimpse of her??

meet the family

jason todd x fem!reader

aka jason has a girlfriend???

warnings: none

The manor sits full as ever—a cloud of mild boredom sweeping over the Wayne clan.

Dick sits perched on top of an armchair reading a catalog, Stephanie’s splayed out across the couch, Cass is bundled up in blankets atop the ottoman, and Damian leans up against the center table from the floor.

It’s a relatively slow afternoon, until Tim comes bursting into the room, out of breath.

“There’s a girl here!”

Everybody looks at him, disinterest scattered across the room. “There’s a couple of ‘em.” Dick says, flipping through the pages of the magazine.

Tim huffs, “No! In Jason’s room—he has a girl in there!” Eyebrows shoot up at that.

“Now I know you’re lying.” Damian mutters.

Tims head snaps over to Damian. “Dude, go see for yourself. I heard her!”

“You really think Jason would bring a girl here and not even introduce us?” Steph asks, unconvinced.

“Yeah.”

“Yes.”

“Obviously.”

Cassandra nods fervently.

“Okay, yeah. Maybe.” Stephanie mutters. “I bet he’ll introduce me before any of you guys, though.”

Dick barks out a laugh, “You’re nothing short of delusional if you think he’s introducing any of us.”

“We’ll have to take matters into our own hands, then.” Tim says, decidedly.

Damian audibly sighs and rolls his eyes.

“I’m meeting her first.” Steph confirms. “I’ll put money down right now.”

“Meet her or see her?” Cass signs.

“Same thing.” Stephanie shrugs.

Dick shoots up from his seat, “First person to see her gets to be the ring bearer!” He announces, racing out of the room.

Knock knock knock knock knock…

Knock knock.

It takes a good forty seconds, but Jason opens the door, an annoyed frown already on his face.

Dick gives him his brightest smile. It beams of deceit in Jason's eyes. “Hey man. What’cha doing?”

He crosses his arms. “What do you want?”

Dick tries to peer around Jason into the room, but Jason made a point of barely opening the door and his large frame isn’t doing Dick any favors right now.

“Just wanted to say hey…You wanna hang out?”

“No.”

Dick lingers awkwardly. “…Are you sure?”

Jason shuts the door.

A couple minutes later, Tim comes running up the stairs. He opts to skip over the courtesy of knocking and go straight for barging through the door himself. Or he would’ve, if Jason hadn’t seen that coming from a mile away and locked it.

“Fuck off, Tim!” Jason calls from inside the room.

“You lost your right to privacy the second you walked in this house!” He shouts back, hitting his fist against the door.

And Tim swears he can hear a sweet laugh as he trudges away. The authenticity of that claim will be heavily debated downstairs for the next several minutes.

Not even a thirty seconds later, Stephanie comes a knockin’. Jason opens the door wordlessly, patience clearly dissipating more and more.

“Hey, Jason! I can’t find my comm, you wouldn’t happen to have it, would you?”

His face deadpans. “No, Steph.”

Stephanie clicks her tongue, “Can you check?”

He stares at her.

“Actually you’re right, it would be faster if I did.” Stephanie tries to push past him into the room, but Jason, unsurprisingly, doesn’t budge.

“Stephanie.”

“I just want to meet her!” She pleads. “I won’t even tell the others, I’ll just say you wouldn’t let me in either!”

“Bye.” He closes the door.

He doesn’t make it all the way back to the bed before the next knock, singular and short.

Jason snaps the door open again, looking down at Damian with a glare.

Never one to waste any time, “Is there a girl in here?” Damian asks, seeming thoroughly disinterested in the answer.

Jason shuts the door in his face.

Several minutes later, another, quieter knock. Jason’s groan can be heard from outside the room. He pulls open the door once again.

It’s Cass.

She stares at him.

He stares at her.

“Can I say hi to her?” She signs.

Jason sighs. “I’ll pass along the message.”

She smiles and turns back down the hall.

Jason closes and locks the door once again, trudging back over to the bed where you lay. He collapses onto your chest, your arms wrapping around each others bodies immediately.

“Cass says hi.” He mumbles, the sound obscured by his face-down position.

“That message would be a lot more meaningful if I actually knew Cass.”

He groans. “You don’t want to meet them.”

“I do.” You say, running your fingers through his hair. “And I think you do too, or you wouldn’t have brought me to the house where the world's best detectives live.”

“I’m starting to regret it now.”

“Come on. Please?” You plead.

He picks his head up to look at you.

“Are you sure?” He asks with a grimace.

“Absolutely.” You say, topping it off with a kiss on his cheek.

He sighs.

Well. It’s never been within Jason’s skill set to deny you, anyways.

You descend the stairs hand in hand with Jason, his energy mopier than usual. You can hear a gaggle of voices coming from a room ahead, all talking over one another.

“Okay, Tim, you climb up outside the window and—”

“—It’s your plan, you scale the side of the house.”

Jason drops his head and mutters a “Jesus Christ…” as you near the commotion.

You give him a reassuring smile and pat his back as you both move into the doorway.

Everyone’s heads snap to the doorway, eyes wide and waiting.

Jason takes a deep breath like he’s steeling himself for torture. “Guys…This is my girlfriend.”

“Hi.” You smile sweetly, waving to the room.

There’s a moment of still silence before the room erupts.

“Hold on—”

“—my god, she’s so pretty!”

“Oh wow—”

“Wait, what?”

”—You’re real?”

“—didn’t place that bet.”

Stephanie comes scurrying up to you and grabs both of your hands in hers. “Hi, I’m Steph!” She says with a beaming smile. “What’s your name?”

“I’m—”

But the others are right on her tail, crowding around you.

“We didn’t even know Jason had a girlfriend.” Tim says.

“Still not convinced.” Damian mumbles from the back.

Cass waves and signs something to you.

“She says we’re really happy to meet you, which we are.” Dick tells you.

Damian moves closer within the huddle and inspects you closely. You have no idea what he’s inspecting you for. You don’t need to dwell on it for long because Jason pushes his head away from you with mild force making Damian scowl.

Stephanie chimes in, “Did he bring you here to meet us? The others said—”

Jason cuts her off, already knowing exactly where that sentence was going. “I brought her here to show her my old room.”

Dick snickers, “Oh, is that what you were off doing?”

“Watch it.” Your boyfriend warns.

You nudge him with your elbow, be nice.

Tim moves closer to you, narrowing his eyes. “So you’ve like, spent time with him and everything? And you still want to be around him?”

“Okay and you’re done.” Jason takes your hand and leads you out of the room and back down the hallway.

“No wait!”

You’re already out of the room and into another and then another before you can even realize that you’re headed for the front door.

You stop in your tracks, pulling him to a halt as well. “What about—”

Jason shakes his head. “You don’t want to meet him.”

You lower your chin at him, “Jay. Do you want me to meet him?”

He’s silent and doesn’t look like he particularly does.

You sigh, “Okay, do you want him to meet me?”

“I—yeah…” he trails, and you give him your best sweet eyes, the ones that he knows he has no business saying no to. “I…okay. Okay.”

He leads you down another hallway, the sounds of his siblings clambering echoing in the distance. You end up in a room that looks like a never used study, where Jason pushes on one of the walls. It slides open with a bit of force from him, revealing a door with a keypad next to it.

He types a series of numbers into it, and opens it up to a narrow passageway that looks remarkably like a cave.

The passageway leads down to a set of stairs, and you can hear the loud sound of water in the distance.

You’re quite nervous about walking into the Batcave, but you know Jason wouldn’t bring you anywhere near it unless he was sure it would be okay. Okay for you that is, more so than his father.

“Careful. It’s slippery.” Jason holds your hand the whole way down anyway, making sure to linger no more than a step and a half in front of you.

You see Bruce Wayne, sitting at a desk with a large array of computer screens in front of it, and case files scattered all throughout the surface.

He doesn’t acknowledge your entrance, though you have to imagine if Jason got his observation skills from anywhere, it would be him.

As you approach, Jason switches your hands so that his left is holding your left. The result has his figure half covering you, you can only assume partially limiting Bruce’s view of you.

“Bruce.”

Bruce turns his chair around, regarding Jason with a raised chin. The greeting is somehow even more formal than you’d expected.

“Jason.” He readdresses his gaze to you. “Who’s this?”

Jason has a hell of a feeling that Bruce already knows exactly who you are. He’s probably known about you since you started dating. He would’ve had to, to not be pissed as hell that Jason brought a civilian into the cave.

Jason introduces you, his hand reluctantly letting go as you step forward to shake Bruce’s.

Bruce looks surprised, though pleasantly so. He smiles and shakes it kindly.

“It’s nice to finally meet you.” He says.

“You too, I’ve heard a lot about you.” You say, smiling.

He laughs, “Oh, I bet.” Looking to Jason, he says, “I can’t say I’ve had the same pleasure, unfortunately.”

Though Jason’s behind you now, you can practically feel him roll his eyes.

“No, I can’t imagine him sharing anything unprovoked.” Bruce smiles widely at that.

He opens his mouth to say something else, but Jason, who’s probably on the brink of losing his mind down here, interrupts.

“Alright. Time to go.” Jason says, grabbing your hand again. He doesn’t give you much time to protest before he’s guiding you by the waist past him and towards the stairs.

You let him nudge you out and call over your shoulder, “It was nice meeting you!”

He’s halfway up the stairs as you exit, only to be stopped by Bruce addressing him again.

“Jason.”

Jason stalls his steps, turning around slowly. You’re out of the cave now, and Jason’s not excited to be alone with his Dad for even a minute. It doesn’t help that he has no idea what he’ll say.

“She’s kind.” Bruce says, simply.

“Yes.”

He tilts his head at Jason, observing him. “You love her?”

Jason looks at the ground. “Yes.”

Bruce nods. “Good.”

He returns to his work at the computers wordlessly, and Jason has to take a moment to realign himself before he climbs the rest of the stairs.

Jason doesn’t particularly seek his fathers approval, nor does he place any definable value on it. However, hearing him give his own version of his blessing to you struck something inside Jason. Something deep in his chest.

He re-enters the study, finding it empty. He walks out into the hallway, where you’re nowhere to be found. Despite being halfway across the house by this point, he can distinctly hear his siblings chattering in the living room. Chattering. And chattering. And chattering…

Oh god, you went back to the living room.

As Jason approaches the conversation becomes clearer.

“—long have you been together, anyways?”

“Well—”

Stephanie gasps suddenly, cutting you off. “Oh wait, you have to meet Alfred!”

“Oh, we’ve already met.” You tell her.

Dick’s head snaps up. “What? When?”

Jason enters the room, draping his arm around your shoulder. “About six months before you met her.”

A chorus of gasps and shouts ring out.

“What?”

[iamumbra195]

School Bus Graveyard incorrect quotes because I'm bored

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Taylor: Look how creepy it is looking down this hallway.

Ashlyn: I'm gonna get vertigo.

Aiden: I'm a Virgo!

Tyler, deadpan: No, you're a virgin.

...

Aiden: You lying, cheating, piece of shit!

Tyler: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD

Aiden: I’m leaving you, and I’M TAKING ASHLYN WITH ME

Logan, picking up the monopoly board: I think we’re gonna stop playing now.

...

Taylor: Why is Tyler so upset?

Logan: He took one of those “Which Character Are You?” quizzes

Taylor: And...?

Logan: He got Aiden.

...

Ashlyn: What did you do with the phantom's body?

Aiden: What didn’t I do with the body?

Everyone:

Aiden: Okay, that sounded more sexual than I intended. I disposed of the phantom respectfully.

...

Aiden: Here’s a fun Christmas idea. We hang mistletoe, but instead of kissing, you have to FIGHT whoever else is under it.

Logan: Aiden, no.

Ben, with text to speech: Mistlefoe.

Logan: Please stop encouraging him.

...

Taylor: Who thinks I can fit 15 marshmallows in my mouth?

Tyler: You’re a hazard to society

Aiden: And a coward. DO TWENTY.

...

Emma, trying to be nice to Ashlyn's new friends: Would you like to stay for dinner?

Mike, excited for his daughter: WOULD YOU LIKE TO STAY FOREVER?

...

Logan: What's a word thats a mix between 'sad' and 'mad'?

Ben: Disgruntled, miserable, desolated-

Aiden: Smad.

...

Ashlyn: Why are you on the floor?

Aiden: I'm depressed.

Aiden: Also I was stabbed, can you get Ben, please.

...

Taylor: Aiden and I were crossing the street, and this dude drove by and honked at us

Ashlyn, sighing: What did he do?

Taylor: he chased him to the next red light, then reached into his window and...

Aiden: Who wants a steering wheel?

...

Aiden: If I accidentally sat on a voodoo doll of myself, would I be trapped forever in that position, doomed to starve to death?

Logan: How am I supposed to know?

Tyler: You say that as if we don’t use you as a source of knowledge of the occult.

Logan: ...You wouldn't be trapped.

...

Ashlyn: Tyler, keep an eye on Aiden today. He's going to say something to the wrong person and get punched.

Tyler: Sure, I’d love to see him get punched.

Ashlyn: Try again.

Tyler, sighing: I will stop Aiden from getting punched.

...

Aiden, holding a python: Guys I impulsively bought a snake, what do I name him

Tyler: You did WHAT–

Ben: William Snakespeare

...

Ashlyn: Dandelions symbolize everything I want to be in life

Taylor: Fluffy and dead with a gust of wind?

Ashlyn: Unapologetic. Hard to kill. Feral, filled with sunlight, bright, beautiful in a way that the conventional and controlling hate but cannot ever fully destroy. Stubborn. Happy. Bastardous. Friends with bees. Highly disapproving of lawns. Full of wishes that will be carried far after I die.

Aiden: edible

...

Taylor, whispering to Aiden, who’s on the phone with Ashlyn: Ask her something!

Aiden: How are you feeling?

Ashlyn: Fine.

Taylor: Something personal!

Aiden: At what age did you start hearing voices?

...

Aiden: If I die, my funeral is going to be the biggest party ever and you’re all invited

Logan: If?

Tyler: Great, the only party I’d actually go to and he might not even die.

...

Logan: We need a distraction.

Ashlyn: Is anyone here good at jumping up and down and making weird noises?

Aiden, whispering: My time has come

...

Tyler: Where are you going?

Taylor: To get ice cream or commit a felony, I’ll decide on the way there

Tyler: I'll come with

...

Mike, buying a whole bag of knives, guns and other weapons like he's going to war on a random Tuesday: I can explain

Jacob (shop owner): Can you?

Mike: If you give me thirty seconds to think of a lie.

...

Taylor: Heads up, if you try to make a candle with food colouring, it will just sink to the bottom of the glass, and when the flame eventually reaches the bottom all the food colouring will catch fire and become one giant tall flame that you cannot possibly blow out and the glass will start to crack and then you'll throw your tea on it in a panic and then the extremely hot food colouring will boil and sizzle horribly and then the glass will shatter.

Tyler, sighing: What did you do?

Taylor, wailing: A MISTAKE

...

Mr. Thomas: What are your goals?

Ashlyn: To pet all the dogs.

Mr. Thomas: No, I meant your goals for this trip.

Ashlyn: To pet all the dogs in Savannah.

...

Logan: Is letting someone win at chess sapiosexual bottoming?

Ashlyn: Does anyone in this godforsaken group ever think before they speak?

...

Taylor: Aiden isn’t answering their phone

Ashlyn: I’ll call

Taylor: Ben and I have both tried six times each, what makes you thi-

Aiden: Hello?

...

Aiden: I was arrested for being too cool.

Tyler: The charges were dropped due to a lack of supporting evidence.

...

Aiden: Jail is no fun. I’ll tell you that much

Taylor: You’ve been to jail?

Aiden: Once. In Monopoly.

...

Mike: You love me, right?

Emma: Normally, I’d say yes without hesitation, but I feel like this is going somewhere and I don’t like it.

...

Aiden: Let’s watch Sharkboy and Lavagirl.

Ashlyn: Okay

Aiden: And make out during the scary parts.

Ashlyn: The-

Ashlyn: The scary parts?

Ashlyn: Of Sharkboy and Lavagirl.

...

Ashlyn: How petty can you get?

Tyler: I once edited a Wikipedia article to win an argument I was wrong about.

Taylor: I KNEW IT-

...

Aiden: I've already sent good vibes your way… they’re coming. There’s nothing you can do to stop them.

Logan: This is the most threatening way I’ve ever been cheered up.

...

Mike: So what’s for dinner?

Emma, staring at the food she just burnt: Regret.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

That's all for today!

[velvetreds]

Can you do 🐙💍💐🍺 with Inumaki? 🎀🎀

here u go !! my handwriting is actually much better btw.

yes this is a confession — toge inumaki x gn!reader

wc <1000 || event

cws: swearing, one mention of death threats, gn reader

arranged marriage is not something you particularly adore. thankfully, you're able to pull things around enough for your husband to be your friend, toge inumaki.

he's a bit of a freak but at least he's nice and not like the weird guys from other clans..

totally the type to buy you flowers "for his beautiful spouse xx"

if you remind him it's an arranged marriage he'll be like, so?? it's for show, dude. (it isn't)

after the wedding he goes to yuta's and ugly cries cause you look so perfect and he's literally in love with you

he leaves colourful sticky notes around the house with cute messages; "what a nice friend!" you think at first

it feels weird to actually fall for him after the two of you get married

you being as oblivious you are, feel extremely guilty for this "one-sided" thing

you start regarding him completely differently

has he always looked this good in everything

he lets you borrow all his clothes — whatever you want, it's yours from the moment you lay your eyes on it

"if we're a married couple, might as well let you have the perks too."

text to speech is a godsend

one night the two of you are lying in bed (with an awkward amount of space between the two of you) when you're overcome with an unusually high amount of guilt. you roll over onto your side to look at him. he's still awake, staring outside at the stars. before you can say anything, he types something out on his phone — really fast — and gives it to you. the bright light hurts your eyes, and you have to squint to read the words.

shootimg star mkae a wisj

your eyes trace the stars path as you murmur a wish, propping yourself up on one elbow to get a better look. inumaki looks detached, distant as he — you assume — makes his wish, too.

"what did you wish for," says the monotonous voice of the text to speech app.

"i can't tell you," you reply. "my wish won't come true that way."

he shakes his head obstinately.

"it's just us here, so it's fine," says text to speech.

"i wished for you to get your happily ever after," you confess finally. "i took away any hope you had of a proper relationship, and—"

"shut the fuck up," the monotone voice tells you, and toge is scrambling up to switch the lamp on and scribble something on one of the post-its from the pile that you consistently keep refilling every day. he shoves it unceremoniously into your hands, and it takes all of thirty seconds for the words to register in your brain.

"what the fuck, are you serious right now?"

he grins awkwardly at your reaction, not knowing if it's a positive response or not, but then a moment later, it all becomes clear.

timeskip :3

tysm for reading n following !

love,

hyena

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

romantic vs platonic

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader (Established Relationship), Conner Kent x Reader (Platonic)

Word Count: 1k words

romantic:

Dick burrowed his face into your neck, breathing in your familiar scent and letting out a deep sigh once your fingers began running through his hair, gently massaging his head.

He took another deep inhale and twirled a lock of your hair in his fingers as he began placing kisses to your neck. It was that one strand that was always curlier than the rest.

"Your hair smells great, baby." He murmured and your eyes fluttered shut, the warmth in Dick's embrace beginning to put you to sleep. You thanked him for the compliment with a small kiss to the crown of his head.

"I love it when my pillow smells like your shampoo the next day." He confessed and you melted.

A hot blush was growing on your face and your bleary eyes took in the sincerity of his smile. Pressing a palm against his chest, feeling his faint heartbeat beneath your fingertips, you leaned close to kiss him.

“I love you.”

"I love you more."

platonic:

You sighed, letting your hair out of the uncomfortable ponytail that you had haphazardly put up so that it wouldn't be in your face while you ate lunch.

That single strand had been uncomfortably tugging against your scalp for last thirty minutes and you gently ran your fingers through the stands, bringing instant relief—

"Woah!!"

That was until someone reached out and yanked your hair so hard you almost fell flat on your behind.

"Dude, what shampoo do you use? Your hair smells great!" Conner commented, reaching out to grab a lock of your hair so he could sniff it once again and you smacked his hand away, staring at your best friend with an expression of disgust mixed with absolute bewilderment.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

***

romantic:

You stepped out of the bathroom, gently toweling your hair dry as you tossed some clothes in the hamper as you stepped back into the bedroom.

Dick looked up from his place on the bed, giving you a passing glance before he nearly broke his neck to look back at you in surprise, a grin growing on his face that was partly lovestruck, partly teasing but completely genuine.

"Is that my T shirt?"

You chuckled at the sight of his impish grin that threatened to split his face, choosing to ignore his blatant staring of your ass that peeked from the hem of the shirt.

"Yeah? Is that okay? I didn't bring any clothes with me." You explained, towel joining your clothes in the hamper when you had decided your hair was dry enough and you perched yourself on his lap, his hands immediately coming to wrap around your waist.

"More than okay," He chirped and you kissed his expectant lips, "You look beautiful."

platonic:

The amount of time it took Conner to recognize that there was something different about you was absolutely disappointing as you lay in wait, glancing up at him occasionally as you absentmindedly browsed through your phone.

"Is that my T shirt?"

You hid the cheshire grin on your face and instead schooled an expression of surprise, "Is this your shirt? Oh, I had absolutely no idea! I thought it was a communal shirt! Considering it was left in the dryer for the last couple days!"

He rolled his eyes, immediately knowing what you were on.

"Because you see, I know you wouldn't leave your clothes in the dryer for days so that it would impede me while I was trying to get my laundry done after the countless reminders I had given you. So I just assumed that this shirt was available for the taking. You know what the scholars say: 'Finder's keepers, losers weepers'."

You still managed to give him a smile even though your words came out through gritted teeth.

"I'm sorry, alright? I won't do it again."

You gave him a fake chuckle, "Yes, you won't because as of this moment you don't have any clothes left to launder. Considering they are my clothes now."

He glared at you.

***

romantic:

"Babe! You're never going to believe what just ha—What's wrong?" The delight in his voice immediately dimmed as soon as he caught a glance of you buried underneath the covers with your back facing him.

He knew you were awake; the frantic motions you had made to wipe away your tears as soon as he entered had told him enough.

"Baby, what happened? Why are you crying?"

He didn't even wait for a response before sitting beside you on the bed, leaning down to press several kisses to your hair. You didn't reply, sniffling and hiding your face against your pillow as you felt a fresh new wave of tears hit you.

"Oh, darling."

And then you were back again in the warmth of his loving arms. He wrapped himself tightly around you, making the heavy pain in your chest alleviate and be replaced with the content you usually found when lost in his embrace.

Before you could control it, you were sobbing softly into his shoulder while he cradled you against him, gently patting your back and raking his fingers through your hair, "Let it out; let it all out."

platonic:

Conner could only stare at you in equal parts of concern and disbelief as you continued to wail in front of him, tears streaking down your cheeks in fat droplets, each followed by an equally fat successor, all while you continued to wheeze and gasp for air in the middle of your sobs.

"And-and-and-*gasp*-then he-then he-*gasp*-he—"

"BITCH SPIT IT OUT!"

"He hung up on meeeee!" You wept, now hiding your splotchy face in your hands. He let out an affronted scoff, offended on your behalf but still sitting beside you to gently pat your back. Well, he thought it was gentle. You, on the other hand, felt the sobs being knocked out of you with each 'pat'.

When your loud wails eventually dissolved into equally loud squawks as you attempted to catch your breath, he asked, "Do you want me to beat him up?"

Finally, you were able to crack a smile.

Taglist under cut

DC

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@person124billion

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[nvuy]

so… about that drink you ordered — boothill

summary. boothill has a pity party at a bar and notices a familiar face that he wants to smash into two.

notes. sort of requested official unofficial sequel sort of to hijacked. you can read this stand alone. not saying you should, though. teehee. this is so uninspired. i just like this concept a lot. i also just like rivals to lovers. i’m also riding on the coattails of the “boothill is largely illiterate.” whether it’s actually canon or not who knows. let me be. he’s still not released LMAOOOO.

warnings. the usual banter, little bit of threatening, but nothing major.

Boothill was at a loss. The mission was a bust, there was no response from La Mancha, and the dreamscape was beginning to grind his gears. So many loud noises, the poster signs were following him around, and this so-called SoulGlad was not as good as it was advertised to be.

This bar sucked, too. The bartender had been giving him the stink eye for the better half of an hour now. It probably wasn’t appropriate to sick him right in the face for it, break his nose, and give him a beating.

The bartender wasn’t scrawny, though. Some big bulk of meat with tired eyes, scruff and mousy brown hair. His chest looked like it was about to pop the buttons of his vest. Dude looks absolutely repressed. Probably works minimum wage.

The bartender abandons a blue inky pen and his notebook that Boothill snoops in. Nothing interesting. Just pages of tabs and tabs of people he doesn’t know, nor care about.

There’s music from the stereos in the corners, though surprisingly, considering it’s not a club—that one is next door. It’s a conjoined building. The only thing seperating the bar and the VIP private rooms of the club is a wall and a locked door. Comforting—and Boothill would have lost his mind already.

It’s also dark. Granted, it’s two in the morning, but the low lights can’t be good for normal people. Not to mention the group of women in the corner that have been hoarding the few slot machines for about thirty minutes now.

Every so often, a chime will go off, and one of them will start busting into tears.

He’s here alone. Not for any particular reason. He’s waiting for a response from somebody, and what better way to pass the time than people watch and pretend he’s not nosy.

Also he feels super important sitting at the counter of the bar.

He almost jumps at a whisper in his ear.

A reddish drink in a ribbed coupe glass is gently dropped onto the counter space beside him. There’s a cucumber slice on the rim, and it also looks like it’s been dusted with sugar.

Boothill turns his nose up. Gross.

The bartender glances at the figure who slots into the seat next to the ranger. “Can I get you something else?”

“Hard whiskey.”

Huh. His eyes snapped to the right. Very familiar. Almost unnervingly so. Just in case, he scoots himself away by an inch, sitting closer to the edge of the barstool.

The bartender blinks, unsure as he pulls a tumbler from the rack. “For you?”

A finger prods the Ranger’s cheek. “For him.”

There’s a zap from the finger, like a small electric shock. Like static charged from the friction of the weird material of the barstools.

“Thanks, Gal.”

“No amount of flirting is gonna make me clear your tab,” Gallagher warned before sliding the whiskey over to the Ranger. Boothill had barely moved, now acutely aware of his own face plastered on a wanted poster behind the bartender’s head. “Try not showin’ up here frequently. Bad for my image if I keep serving crooks.” He points to the Ranger, and then to you. “Both of you.”

The bartender then is called over by a group of women who are giggling at a booth in the corner.

Boothill was sure he was going to lean forward and scrap with you over the counter. He could already feel the terse skin of your neck in his hands.

“You followin’ me?”

“You followed me first,” you say harshly.

The ranger let out a laugh before picking up his drink. “It was only a job. If you got offended, that’s your problem.” He then holds the glass close. “You g’nna do that thing again?”

“‘Thing?’” you repeated.

There was a smug grin on your face. You rested the chin in the palm of your hand.

Oh. He was so going to throw you over the counter and smash a bottle over your head. “Y’know what I’m talkin’ ‘bout. Don’t play stupid.”

You took a sip of your drink.

“Boop.”

Your finger pressed to his chest. You snickered when he stared down at the brief flashing of yellow beneath his joints.

Then, you flit your finger upwards and flick his nose.

He grabs your hand with the intent of pulling it from its socket.

“Now, that’s a dangerous game to play,” you remind him. “I’ve got you in my hands, remember?” Your free hand lets go of your glass, and there’s a small flash of yellow light on the pads of the gloves on your hands. A flicker is all it takes to showcase his entire makeup in your palm. You spin it slowly for good measure.

Then, the image disappears and you snatch your wrist from his hand.

“What do you want?” Boothill mutters. He’s absentmindedly staring into his drink while swishing it around. The ice cubes softly tap against the glass.

“Insight. You’re a Galaxy Ranger, right?” He can’t lie to you anyway. You pretty much know everything about him. Your main profession is definitely stalking and being a thorn in his side. Your fingers held his chin up softly. “Tell me about it.”

He blinks, dazed. “That’s it?”

“No.”

He removes your hand from his chin. He holds his glass protectively. “Then quit pullin’ my leg. Cut to the good bit.”

You sigh. “You’re no fun. Do you come to bars just to mope?” You pull a dramatic frown for good measure.

“Do you come to bars to piss everyone off?” he shoots back. Despite his tone, his fingers are gentle around the glass. Any more firm a hold, and the drink would shatter and spill all over the counter.

You grin.

You tap his nose again. “Just you.” Then, you shake your head. “I’m here ‘cause I got a bar crush.” You then point to a table behind Boothill’s head in the corner. “Blondie with the nice eyes and the rings.”

After a moment's hesitation, the ranger turns and follows your finger.

Sure enough, you’re not convincing him to spin around so you can shove your hand into his sockets. There is a blond man at a table dressed in green, winking at an opponent over a game of… poker? Is that poker? The game with the chips and stuff. And dice, too. They’re thrown over a board, and there’s a couple of people who have tuned in to watch the entire thing unfold.

“His name is Aventurine. Or, that’s a code name, I think. He’s Sigonian. Works for the IPC, incredibly insecure, has a gambling addiction, needs to eat lead…” You stopped short, counting on your fingers as Boothill turns back to you. “Isn’t he dreamy?”

Boothill narrows his eyes at you. “Do you know everything about everyone?”

You shrug. “Pretty much, yeah.” Then, you make a noise. “Eh, I’m lying. Lots of people are boring. I only know the basics ‘bout most of ‘em. It’s the higher ups I’m interested in. Case in point–” You gestured to the blond man again, now scanning over his cards. “–Mister Big Shot. And all his loser coworkers. I don’t like the IPC.”

Boothill quietly sips his drink.

At least you can both agree on something.

He wants to yawn. He doesn’t have the function to do that anymore.

You talk too much.

He cuts you off, and fiddles with a few buttons on his arm. “What can you tell me–” A small image of a woman projects into view from a small lens near his wrist. “–About her?”

You lean closer to the image. Pretty.

She has lovely purple hair and eyes to match. It’s an unassuming photo. She’s not even looking at the camera, not even close to it. She’s standing next to a little boy with sparkling eyes and a uniform that starkly resembles the hotel staff in the waking world of Penacony—oh, the bellboy. You forgot his name.

You hum. “What’s her name?”

“Acheron.” He spits it nastily, as if tasting vitriol on his tongue.

You lean back against the counter. “I’d have to dig deeper. Can’t say I’ve seen her around before.”

“Well, that’s disappointin’,” he huffs before the image shrinks and disappears back into the lens. “Thought you were better than that.”

Your brows knit together.

“Are you trying to rile me up?” It was working. Curse you and your hot-head. It would get you killed one day.

Boothill grins.

Then, he raises his glass to you. “Yep.”

You wanted to pull him apart right there, like a doll.

Instead, you whisper, “tell me about La Mancha.”

Boothill casually sips the whiskey. “What’s in it for me?”

“I’ll dig up whatever I can find about that Acheron girl.”

Boothill then lets out a small giggle. “I already know who she is.” He wasn’t lying either. You could tell by how he grinned. “I was testin’ ya.”

Oh, great. He’s figured you out again. Not that there’s much to decode beneath the layer of self-doubt and hostility.

You could feel your face burning.

He grabs your cheeks before you can turn away.

“You ain’t here ‘cause you got some ‘puppy crush,’” he accused playfully, squishing your skin like it’s clay. “You already told me ya know everything about blondie. Who’re you really here for?”

He’s not stupid.

He’s also twirling a lock of his hair around his finger.

God damnit.

Your fingers curled tightly around the rim of your glass. The cucumber slice has since fallen into the cosmopolitan, and it’s giving the entire drink a strange watery taste.

The bar carries on. There’s a hoot from the table with blondie, who’s now, since the last time you stared daggers into the side of his head, collected some more of his poor opponent’s chips.

You pull your face from his grip. “Nobody.”

“Not even me?” Boothill presses. “You seem to love followin’ me around. In and out the dreamscape.”

You grit your teeth.

“The bartender,” you mutter finally. “I’m here for the bartender.” Currently, Gallagher is half asleep on the other side of the counter, trying to negotiate with some drunkard over the pricing of a scotch.

You eye him warily for a moment.

“There it is.” He pats your head like a dog. “Knew you’d come ‘round, pumpkin.”

You’re trembling with rage. “Kiss my ass, you cyborg scum.” You were considering throwing a punch at his perfect face.

“Rude.” Boothill flicks your nose back and you grunt. “I’m tryin’ to be nice wit’ you. You followed me here.”

You wanted to leave now. He sucks when he knows he has the upper hand, even if he’s well aware you can make his arms tear his own head off.

But you’re not going to do that. You need him. You made that clear.

The sound of a slot machine goes off somewhere to the right. There's cheering from a bunch of women.

You turn back and stare at the wall of liquor behind the bar. Maybe you should just knock yourself out. Whether by downing an entire bottle of bourbon or smashing it over your head. It was a hard choice to make.

You watch him through your peripherals, noticing he’s pinched a napkin from the pile on the counter.

“Lookin’ very pretty tonight, by the way. Hard to keep my eyes off ya.” He was writing something down with the pen from before. “If you were anyone else, I woulda had to take ya home. ‘Specially after ya bought me a drink.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome.” Then, you pause. “Excuse me?”

Boothill folds the napkin into a square and holds it to your lips. “Open.”

“You are not–”

Too late. He’s pushed it to your teeth, and you instinctively clamp down on it.

Oh, this sucks. This sucks bad.

He knows it, too, from the way he’s grinning at you like a shark and snickering.

He presses his warm lips to your cheek. The scent of whiskey faintly wafts in the air.

You stupidly freeze, hands curled around his wrists when his cold hands tilt your head so the tip of his tongue can press to the corner of your lips. You could stop him. You could.

You didn’t.

You smell like strawberry, the same as that other night. You look just as good, too. Shame you haven’t put anything on your lips. He would’ve loved to be stained a nice pink again.

He slides his whiskey next to you.

Then, he finishes what’s left of your drink. Dickhead. “I’ll be ‘round if ya need me.” He taps your nose and stands up. “You know where to find me.”

With a tilt of his hat, he leaves.

You pull the napkin from your teeth. Are you serious?

Face burning with humiliation, you hastily unfold the tissue, fingers shaking around the glass of whiskey. It’s heavy on your tongue; disgusting, bitter, everything you’d use to describe that stupid cowboy and his abomination of a body.

Scrawled in blue ink is a line of numbers. It looked suspiciously like a phone number.

Below it in blocky letters are the words: Keep In touc H. ♡

There’s a crudely drawn horse with a hat in the corner.

[shanastoryteller]

Dean’s minding his own business, sipping on a beer and leering at the bartender, when a guy that admittedly has about four inches and a good twenty pounds of muscle on him storms over and shoves him in the arm.

He tenses, getting to his feet and preparing for a fight even as he’s wondering what he did to piss him off. Maybe the bartender’s his girl? Jesus, Dean was just looking, he can’t get mad at just looking when his girl look likes that.

“Dude, what the hell?” the guy demands. “I know you’re pissed at me right now, but just leaving me back there – do you know how many bars it took to find you? You’re a jackass.”

He’s not taking a swing, instead standing with crossed arms – fuck, this guy is huge, he’d really like to avoid a fight here – and scowling at him, his long hair falling into his eyes as he looks down at him. Dean wishes he had any idea what was going on right now. “Look, man, relax.” The guy’s eyes narrow, his shoulders lifting and expanding as he takes in a deep breath, as if he needs any help to look bigger. Before he can say anything, Dean adds, “I think you’ve got me confused with someone else.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay. Fuck off.” He presses his lips together, somehow appearing smaller in the next moment without actually moving. “Look, I know you’re mad about heaven, you’ve made that pretty fucking clear, but you can’t just walk off and turn off your phone. I figured you were just being an ass, but something could have happened to you. If you’re ignoring me, at least let me know you’re ignoring me.”

The guy doesn’t look like he’s tweaking, or suffering some sort of head injury. His eyes are clear and his voice is steady. But Dean has no idea what he’s talking about. “Dude, you’ve really got me confused with someone else.”

“Dean!” he snaps, which woah, okay, he wasn’t expecting that. “This isn’t funny.”

“I’m not laughing,” he says. “How do you know my name?”

He stares at him, uncertainty entering his eyes for the first time. “Are you feeling okay? You didn’t come across Zachariah or a witch or something in the past couple hours?”

He doesn’t know who Zachariah is, but the casual mention of witches makes him frown. Is this guy a hunter or something? He figures he’d remember meeting him, but maybe not.

“Everything okay over here?” Dad’s hand lands heavily on his shoulder, and Dean shifts enough to see him giving the guy a hard stare that has sent more than one man running in the other direction.

Dean almost rolls his eyes – he’s thirty one years old, he doesn’t need his dad coming over to save him – but he makes the effort so rarely that Dean can’t help but be warmed by it.

The guy pales, mouth dropping open as he stares at Dad like he’s seen a ghost. “You – Christo.”

Okay, definitely a hunter. Dad raises an eyebrow. “I’m not a demon.”

The guy grabs for Dean, yanking on his hand. Dean jerks back, but he’s already gotten his long fingers around his ring. He pulls it off and Dean is about to break his jaw to get it back, but he tosses it to Dad, who catches it on instinct. Dean doesn’t get it until he does. His ring is silver. He’s checking if Dad is a shifter, which okay, that’s one thing. Dean’s more concerned about how he knows his ring is silver. The guy’s voice cracks when he says, “Dad?”

Dad raises an eyebrow. “I think you’re a little confused.”

“Dean, what’s going on?” he asks, grabbing onto the sleeve of his jacket. Dean should push him off. “What,” his gaze drops down, and if possible he goes even paler. “Oh. Oh, fuck.”

Dean looks down, sees the guy’s eyes stuck on his amulet. “What?”

“I don’t understand,” he says, biting on his lower lip. “Is this some sort of – but you’re still hunters. Is Mom alive?”

Dean flinches.

“Okay,” Dad says. “That’s enough. You walk this off or whatever, but you do it somewhere else–”

“Dad, it’s me,” he says plaintively. “It’s Sam. Your son.”

Dean doesn’t remember moving, only that the next moment his hands are fisted in the front of this asshole’s shirt, his blood thrumming under his skin. “Shut up. Shut the fuck up.”

He puts his hands on Dean’s wrists, stupid earnest and soft and Dean’s going to kick his ass. “Dean. It’s me. I have to exist in this world, right? The demon was after me, if I wasn’t here then there wouldn’t have ben a fire, Mom wouldn’t have died, you guys wouldn’t be hunters. I have to be around somewhere.”

Dean tries to shove him away, but he won’t let go of his hands. “Shut up! You don’t – don’t talk about my family.”

The worst thing he ever did, his biggest failure. Sometimes the weight of it gets to be so heavy that it feels like it should be cracking his ribs, pressing his heart until it bursts. Sometimes he wishes it would.

He swallows before letting go with one hand and reaching into his pocket to pull something out. It takes Dean a moment to see it’s his amulet, the one he’s worn since he was twelve years old, back when Bobby still talked to them. “My name is Samuel Winchester. I was named after my mother’s father. I was born on May 2, 1983. When I was eight years old, Bobby gave me this amulet. He said it was a protection charm. I was originally planning to give it to Dad for Christmas, but he didn’t show up. Another in a long line of disappointments, right? So I gave it to you instead. Because even when you’re being a jerk, you’ve never let me down.”

Dean’s eyes are burning. He tries to shake off his grip, but he won’t let go. Why is Dad just standing there? “Stop! Stop. I don’t know what game you’re playing–”

“No game,” he says, gentle voice a counterpoint to the grip that’s absolutely going to bruise. “I need you to believe me, Dean, please–”

“My brother died when he was six months old,” he cuts him off. “Samuel Winchester is dead. He’s been dead for twenty six years.”

His fault, his fault, all his fault. If he’d just listened to Dad –

“Not where I’m from,” he says, and it’s crazy, it’s all crazy. “Please. Ask me anything. I’ll prove it. Hell, let’s go to a clinic, we can take a DNA test. I’m Sam. I’m your brother. And I need your help.”

“You mentioned a demon,” Dad says quietly.

The guy, who’s not Sam, who can’t be Sam, tears his eyes away from Dean to look at Dad. “Yeah. Azazel. The yellow eyed demon.”

Dad rubs a hand over his mouth. “I never told anyone about that.”

Dean snaps his head towards Dad. “What? You said you didn’t know what killed Mom! That we were searching for it!”

“We are,” Dad says. “It never resurfaced again. I’ve been looking for the signs.”

The guy frowns. “He started up again when I was twenty two.”

“Not here,” Dad says, looking him up and down, something hungry in his eyes.

Dad believes him. Dad thinks that this is Sammy.

“Let’s discuss this back at the room,” Dad says. “Come on.”

He heads towards the door, sure that he’s going to be followed. The – Sam, maybe Sam, he rolls his eyes, but goes after him. He only stops when his grip on Dean’s wrist jerks him back, because Dean’s not moving, can’t make himself move. He flushes, letting go of Dean finally, but he takes a step closer. His eyebrows pull together in concern, and now that Dean’s looking, he sort of sees it, sees the planes of Dad’s face and his eyes in this stranger with his brother’s name. “Hey, are you okay?”

No.

“Let’s go,” he says, striding forward, shoulders hunched.

Sam falls into step beside him easily, matching his strides like it’s second nature. Dean swallows around the lump in his throat and tries to pretend it means nothing.

[bigification]

Beach Bears

The cold water felt good on my feet as the waves washed in and out. The sun warmed my skin as I stood at the edge of the beach. It was finally summer, the season where the ladies pull out their bikinis and I get to show off all the hard work I put into my abs over the winter. I finally got to wear my new orange speedo, it was a little big but the drawstring made it so it wouldn't fall down. It still showed off my ass well so I didn't care. I tried to convince my friend Leo to get a speedo too but he was hesitant. Although he did get a short pair of swim shorts, so he'll still be able to show off for the ladies.

"C'mon Leo, let's go already!" I yelled, waiting for my friend to join me in the water.

"Ya ya I'm coming!" He yelled back as he ran towards me.

We both slowly walked into the water together, it was cold but refreshing. We stopped just as the water reached our upper thigh, working up the courage to go deeper. In the meantime, I looked around to see if we had any catches nearby.

"Bingo!" I said to Leo as I tapped his shoulder. "Right there. Red bikinis." I pointed at two ladies swimming nearby.

"Slow down man, they're like ten years older than us. No way they want us around." Leo hesitated.

"Dude, were like almost 20, were basically adults. Just follow my lead." I said as I dragged towards the two women.

"Hey ladies. Need company to keep you warm?" I said, trying to lower my voice to sound smooth.

The women looked at each other and giggled quietly. One of them slowly walked up to me and put her hand on my shoulder.

"Why don't you two go a little deeper. We're gonna get some sunscreen and we'll be right back." She said as she softly slid her hand down my arm. She then brushed her hand across my cheek and over my mouth. It left a sweet taste in my lips. I saw the other woman do the same to Leo as they started to swim back to the shore.

"Holy shit! Holy shit!" I said excitedly to Leo. He smiled back at me and we both went deeper to wait for the ladies to come back.

I laid on my back, floating on the surface of the water. My head was turning with all of the things I should say, or the things I should do when they come back. I didn't even notice myself mentally drifting away. It was getting harder to think, it was hard to tell how much time had passed. I felt comfortable as a warm sensation filled my body.

As I was floating, I turned my head to face Leo. It looked like he was mindlessly floating like I was, but something seemed off. His belly is sticking out a bit. At first it just looked like he took a big breath in, but then it never flattened back out to his normal abs. In fact it just kept growing. It swelled until it looked like he ate a basketball. I could even see fat love handles spilling over his waist, acting as floating devices for his growing body. I should have been terrified, or at least curious about what was happening but something about it felt normal.

I continued to watch Leo change, I felt mesmerized and paralyzed at the same time. His flat pecs grew into a pair of strong but soft pecs that complemented his gut. His once skinny and defined arms ballooned into strong biceps, and thick man hands. His legs and his ass plumped a lot too, making it look like his swim shorts were about to burst. Even his feet looked like they grew six sizes.

I started to feel butterflies in my stomach. Like the feeling I get when I look at a hot woman, but I couldn't take my eyes off Leo. Finally, I watched his lovely hair fall out, leaving a bald head behind. Then his clean shaven face quickly grew a thick and bushy beard that covered the double chin that had formed under his face. His features seemed to roughen up, giving him the appearance of a tough man in his late thirties.

As I stared at Leo, I noticed I was struggling to stay afloat. My body was sinking and my head was barely above water. I usually have no trouble floating, why is my body sinking like a rock all of a sudden. I go to stand up, and something doesn't feel right. I could even touch the bottom before, now the water only reaches my chest when I stand up straight. I looked down, feeling the scruff of my beard rub against my chest. Wait... I don't have a beard, why do I have a beard. When I looked down, I noticed my chest sticking out much further than it usually does. My pecs were thick and padded, and my stomach had a thick layer of muscle but it was hidden under a layer of fat. My arms were massive, It made me feel so strong. My biceps were so thick that I had to spread my arms so they don't rub against my sides. My hands had gotten so thick, I felt like I could grip a basketball with one hand.

I started to walk towards Leo, as my mind began to feel less foggy. My memories started to come back to me. I had to stop and undo the strap on my speedo, because it felt like it was squeezing me to death. I think I'll need a new one anyway, this one felt like it was crushing my dick with every step. It also shocked me how much I had to spread my legs while walking, leg day has been paying off with these thick thighs but man is it annoying sometimes.

"Wake up, babe." I said to Leo as I shook him. He snorted a bit before jumping awake. "You look so cute when you wake up." I said as I leaned in for a kiss. I loved the fuzzy feeling of his beard rubbing against my lips. He always asks me if I'm okay with him growing out his beard but I'm always adamant that I love it, I don't think I'll ever let him shave it off.

I saw his cheeks turn a bit red from the compliment. He was always so easily flattered.

"We should go back and put on some sunscreen before you burn your head again." I said as I dragged him back to the shore.

I grabbed his hand as we got to the shore, Leo always had trouble with his balance with the waves hitting his feet. His balance gets worse the bigger his belly gets, not that I mind his belly though. I've made sure to feed him well ever since we started dating. That metabolism of his will give out one day and it'll be easier for me to fatten him up.

As we got to the beach, I heard a couple of girls giggling nearby. "You guys are so cute together!" One of them yelled out. Leo blushed and looked away, and I just gave them a wink as we walked back to our beach towels.

[avatar-anna]

Unknown Number

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

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

italics: y/n (unknown number)

bold: harry

Part Two

Part Three

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

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

UN: you gave it to me?

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

HS: No. You have the wrong number.

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

HS: No.

UN: oh my god

UN: i feel like such an idiot

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

UN: probably on purpose too

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

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

(one hour later)

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

(twenty minutes later)

UN: it's fine, i guess

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

HS: That is quite a dick move.

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

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

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

UN: maybe i should stop texting you

(ten minutes later)

HS: I'm not a creep.

UN: that's exactly what a creep would say

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

UN: you said you didn't open it!

HS: I was trying to be polite!

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

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

UN: you text like an old man

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

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

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

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

HS: I suddenly regret restarting a conversation with you

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

HS: So you're out of high school.

UN: creep!

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

UN: you...might be right

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

HS: Well that's stupid.

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

UN: i'm blocking your number

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

UN: h? just the letter h?

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

UN: fair enough. i'm june

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

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

HS: June is a nickname?

HS: And I'm not 60.

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

HS: Folks? Now who sounds old?

UN: whatever

(thirty minutes later)

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

UN: you too h

(three days later)

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

HS: I'm sorry?

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

J: i just assumed but i thought i would ask

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

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

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

J: so? are you a dude?

HS: Yes.

J: great! can i ask you something?

HS: Um...I guess...

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

HS: I'm not following...

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

HS: No. Why?

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

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

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

J: that is not advice!

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

J: ...

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

HS: I'm sure.

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

HS: I don't really date.

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

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

J: so no special someone?

HS: No.

(four hours later)

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

(one hour later)

J: sorry i was at work

J: and i don't see why not

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

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

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

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

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

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

J: doesn't everyone?

HS: I guess you're right.

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

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

J: no, but it's kind of embarrassing

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

J: harsh...but fair

J: fashion is kind of my religion

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

HS: That's cool!

J: tell that to my family

HS: they don't support you?

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

HS: Do you have a favorite designer?

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

J: you?

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

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

HS: House codes?

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

(two days later)

HS: Have you ever had rumors spread about you?

J: i don't think so

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

J: it was just a peck

HS: Naughty.

J: it was harmless. why do you ask?

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

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

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

J: that sucks

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

HS: ...

J: oh! i actually feel kind of honored

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

HS: Easier said than done.

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

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

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

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

HS: Well said, June Bug.

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

(one month later)

HS: Why June Bug?

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

HS: That's sweet.

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

HS: Yikes.

J: you're telling me

(three weeks later)

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

HS: Have you?

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

HS: Edge of Seventeen?

J: edge of seventeen

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

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

J: ...

HS: June!

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

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

J: REALLY nice hands ;)

HS: You disappoint me sometimes.

J: ;))))

(fifteen minutes later)

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

HS: ...No comment...

(one week later)

J: you ever been in love, h?

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

J: no ://

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

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

HS: I'm sorry.

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

J: aw h you're making me blush!

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

J: annnd good feeling gone

(two weeks later)

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

J: no fair!

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

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

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

HS: Who?

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

HS: Relax. I'm only joking.

HS: Alessandro is a friend ;))

(ten minutes later)

J: sorry i just had to scream into my pillow

J: what exactly do you do again?

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

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

HS: Meat packing?

J: you know what i mean!

HS: I do a lot of PR.

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

HS: Can I go back to gloating?

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

HS: Deal.

(four days later)

HS: Favorite movie?

J: that's hard...

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

HS: Good choice.

J: what about you?

HS: The Notebook.

J: really?

HS: Yes. Why?

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

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

J: no

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

HS: Is that a bad thing?

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

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

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

J: now THAT is something we can agree on!

(six weeks later)

J: BIG NEWS

J: LIKE HUGE

J: GROUNDBREAKING

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

J: i texted you yesterday

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

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

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

HS: You said you had news?

J: right!

(twenty minutes later)

HS: Are you making me wait to create anticipation?

J: no sorry i got a phone call.

J: i got my first real gig as a stylist

HS: That's great! Congratulations!

J: thanks

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

J: my mother happened

HS: Still not on board, then?

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

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

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

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

J: i guess

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

J: you're right.

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

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

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

HS: What happened to Bill?

J: ancient history

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

J: yeah

J: his girlfriend thought so too.

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

J: agreed. what about you? still single?

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

J: the horror!

HS: Ha ha

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

J: i get that

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

HS: I'll be on the lookout.

(three weeks later)

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

HS: oh?

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

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

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

HS: are your clients nice at least?

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

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

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

J: i told you that the other day

HS: right. must've slipped my mind

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

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

J: who is this?

HS: what do you mean? it's me

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

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

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

J: oh my god

HS: What?

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

J: was this some kind of prank?

J: whoever you are, you're sick

J: don't text me again

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

HS: Last time I leave my phone anywhere.

HS: June?

HS: June please.

HS: That wasn't me I swear!

HS: I'm sorry.

(three weeks later)

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

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

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

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

J is typing...

HS: June?

J: i should've blocked you

HS: Why didn't you?

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

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

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

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

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

J: i guess that's true

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

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

HS is typing...

HS: I could send you a voice note.

J: you would do that?

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

J: a friend you say?

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

J: and what about tomorrow?

HS is typing...

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

(one day later)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe tomorrow I'll admit a little more.

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

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

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

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

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

"What? Big date tonight?"

"Something like that."

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

"Holy shit."

[haechoxo]

[8:12 pm]

“bro… why do you keep throwing parties? we’re not in a frat anymore…” mark side eyed johnny, who looked more crazy than excited.

“dude! are you kidding– i’m gonna be thirty! i have to party while i still have time, duh!” mark could only roll his eyes at his dramatics, turning to engage with renjun and jeno, who were already busy arguing over some game.

sighing, he turns his head, catching a glimpse of you at the snack table, as you turned to reach for a handful of chips, you bumped into someone, nearly spilling your drink. you looked up, surprised to see haechan standing there, looking equally startled.

“oh, sorry,” you said, stepping back.

“no, it’s my fault,” he replied, his voice tired and soft, barely audible over the music.

you both stood there for a moment, an awkward silence hanging between you. he looked like he hadn’t been taking care of himself—dark circles under his eyes, hair a bit messier than usual. he seemed thinner, almost sickly, and the sight of him tugged at your heartstrings despite everything.

“didn’t expect to see you here,” you finally said, breaking the silence.

“yeah, me neither,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “kinda got dragged out by the guys.”

you nodded, not sure what to say. the conversation felt dry, and you could tell he was struggling with it too.

“how’ve you been?” he asked, his eyes flicking away from yours, unable to hold your gaze.

“i’ve been... okay,” you replied, feeling the weight of the understatement. “just keeping busy with work and stuff.”

“that’s good,” he said, nodding absently. “keeping busy is good.”

another awkward silence fell between you, the noise of the party feeling distant and muted. he shuffled at his feet, looking like he wanted to say something more but couldn’t find the words.

“i saw you with yeonjun the other day,” he blurted out suddenly. “h-how’s that going?”

you blinked, caught off guard by the question. “oh, that…we– it’s good.” you already stopped seeing yeonjun.

“that’s good,” he said, his voice tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. “you deserve it… good things, i mean– to be happy.”

“thanks,” you said softly, not quite knowing how to respond. you both stood there in awkward silence, the noise of the party feeling distant and muted.

he looked down at the floor, swaying awkwardly, his expression conflicted. “i... uh, i’ve been doing a lot of thinking... about everything. i know i uhm–” he swallows thickly, “messed up, i–i didn’t handle things well.”

“no, you didn’t,” you agreed, your tone blunt. you didn’t want to sugarcoat it for him.

he winced at your honesty but nodded. “yeah, i deserve that.”

he looked like he wanted to say more, his mouth opening and closing a few times, wanting to say more—apologize, explain, anything—but the words tangled in his throat, nothing coming out. the frustration and regret in his eyes were clear, but he seemed so unable to articulate them. his heart raced as he felt the weight of your eyes on him, searching for something he couldn’t give.

“i should… um, i have to go,” he mumbled, turning on his heel before he could change his mind.

“hyuck-” you started, but he was already retreating, leaving you alone once again.

previous - next

a/n ; the grovel is near.. i can feel it,, apologies for short chapter again, hope u enjoy, advice is appreciated! xoxo jelly

[archangeldyke-all]

thoughts and opinions on ceo sev falling asleep at her desk??

bonus if you’re not the first one to find her, but someone else comes and finds you like “uhh, your wife… i— you should go check on her…”

PLEASE i loveher

men and minors dni

with the year wrapping up, it's time for sevika to give out her yearly performance reviews.

this means she's been holed up in your shared office all day, your co-workers trailing in one by one, only to leave about fifteen minutes later with various levels of disappointment etched into their faces.

sevika's warmed up a bit in her time as ceo-- and she's got a handful of colleagues she's even fond of. but if there's one thing your wife is good at, it's being an intimidating boss.

with your desk occupied by your co-workers all day, sevika's given you the day off.

she's been texting you steadily all day, keeping you company at home as she gets through her meetings. mostly just bullshit.

just did nick's review. he almost cried when i called him out on the way he talks to his lady clients.

what are u wearing? 👀

are we doing leftovers for dinner or do u want me to grab take out on the way home?

but now it's nearing five, and you haven't heard from your wife in an hour.

you shoot her a text.

'you headed home soon, love?'

you wait thirty minutes... nothing.

she could be in a long meeting. her last review of the day is seamus, but jamie was scheduled before him, and jamie loves to gab. it's not unlikely that jamie's put sevika and seamus' schedules behind with stories about his ever growing pack of wiener dogs.

when six rolls around and you still haven't heard from her, you decide to give her a call.

after a minute of ringing, the call goes to voicemail.

you aren't worried. someone at work would've called you if sevika was injured, or her car broke down, or her phone died, or something. you're just... confused.

on the rare days that you aren't coming home from work together, sevika calls you on her drive home to chat.

at six thirty, you get a call from seamus.

"hello?" you ask.

"hey..." he says hesitantly, like he's waiting for you to speak.

"...seamus, you called me, dude." you remind your friend. he chuckles a bit, then speaks.

"i don't exactly know how to say this... but you need to come back to the office to wake your wife up." he says, his voice in a whisper.

you blink. "what?" you ask.

seamus giggles and your phone buzzes. "check your phone."

you pull your phone away from your ear long enough to open the message you'd just received, cackling when you open the picture.

sevika's fallen asleep at her desk, her face smashed against her keyboard, a few papers still gripped in her hands as she snores away.

"how long has she been sleeping!?" you ask, pulling the phone back to your ear as you start to get your shoes on.

"i have no fucking idea-- i knew she had jabby jamie before me, so i just kept waiting and waiting for her to call me in for my meeting, but after an hour i decided to peek in and..."

"this is so stupid." you giggle as you pull on your coat. "just, like, cough loudly or something!" you suggest, even though you're already halfway to the car, ready to drive halfway across town just to wake your wife up from a nap.

"she's sleeping so peacefully, though!" seamus complains. "and i know she's your 'sevi-bear' or whatever-- but she's my scary-ass boss! i'm not wakin' her up, especially not before my performance review!"

"oh shut up, you know you're her favorite."

"you're her favorite. i'm her weed guy."

you snort. "i'll be there in ten minutes."

"i'll be here." seamus replies with a smile in his voice.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @micronreadzztuff22

[thewriterwithnoplan]

Ferrari's Fairytale (1/3)

Summary: World Championships are the most important part of any Formula One team's history. Except perhaps, Ferrari's. Known for their rabid fans, filthy-rich investors, and pretty boy drivers it shouldn't be a surprise that the team has brought together Soulmates from across the globe. And fate, it seems, is working awfully hard to put all the pieces into place for Ferrari's perfect fairytale - one that's been in the works for decades now.

[Part 1 of Pretty Girls and Ferrari Boys]

Soulmate AU: Soulmates share injuries and pain.

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader (Eventual)

Word Count: 1650

Warnings: Swearing, no Charles in this first part sorry it's his epic love story and those take time ;)

Masterlist

There was something wrong with your soulmate.

Really there had been something wrong with them since you were eight years old. But right now, there was something particularly wrong with them.

“Just some bruising over the ribcage, but no actual damage internally.” The medic presses a latex covered hand gently against your ribs.

“They feel broken.” You suck in a pained breath and glare over her shoulder, at the little framed picture of her cat, Terror, on her desk. “You’re sure I’m not about to sneeze and puncture a lung?”

“Funny.” Though the look she gives you as she pulls off her gloves is less than amused. “Which one of us went to medical school again?”

“My best friend. You might know her. She’s stunning, generous, gives me free check-ups, did I say stunning? Goes by Sunny.”

“It’s Doctor Sunny to you.” She slingshots one of the gloves at you. “But it’s good to know you only keep me around for the free check-ups.”

“My soulmate would bankrupt me without you.”

Sunny taps at her computer, “The fee isn’t that high.”

“Sure,” You shrug. “If you aren’t in here every other week.”

“Have we ruled out hitman as their profession?”

“Since we were eight?”

“I don’t know much about hitmen, maybe they start them young.”

You lower yourself carefully from the observation table and move stiffly toward her desk. “Give it to me straight Doc. How much longer have I got?”

“I’m afraid you’ll live, ma’am.” Sunny doesn’t even look up. “A tragedy for all, I know. I can give you a moment if you need time to process– Ow! Bitch.”

She rubs at her shoulder and huffs.

“I’m going to have to log that in the database, you know.” She says.

“Good, maybe we can both find our soulmates and be done with it all.”

“Real romantic, dude.”

“Your soulmate hasn’t been terrorising you since you were a kid.”

“I had my fair share of scraped knees,” Sunny wrinkles her nose when you stick your tongue out. “You do know it won’t stop after the two of you meet, right? That’s a schoolyard myth.”

“After the talking to I’m going to give him, you bet your perky ass it’s going to stop.”

“That’s the second instance of workplace harassment I’ve coped from you in the last minute.”

“Fine. Your ass is not perky.”

“Mature.” She hums, “What time did you say the pain started?”

“Ten-thirty-ish?”

“All good then.” Sunny makes a few more clicks before powering down her computer. “Your chest and my arm, all nice and logged.”

“You know, sometimes I think you became a Match Medic specifically so you could put every little thing into the database to make it easier to find your soulmate.”

“Perks of the job.” She scoops up her handbag. “Come on, let’s bounce before the front desk starts scheduling over my lunch break.”

“You remember how I said you were stunning and generous and stunning?”

“I’m not buying you lunch.”

“Could this week get any worse?” You throw your head back dramatically.

Sunny cracks a smile at your antics, “Only a few more hours and we’re free for the weekend.”

“Are we still on for pamper-night tonight?”

“Always. Mine or yours?”

You end up spending the night in Sunny’s apartment, covered in different rejuvenating oils and masks until you look like low-budget horror movie villains. In your fluffy robes with The Princess Bride on in the background Sunny tries to teach you how to make Hainanese Chicken the way her mother did. Terror cries at your feet when you tell him he can’t have raw chicken. Sunny pops a bottle of cheap champagne that makes you both grimace and promise one another that you would find an excuse to get a nicer bottle soon. You take turns washing the excess from the face, foot, and hair masks off. Then curl up together on the couch, sipping broth, digging into rice and slathering chicken in Sunny’s family’s super-secret chilli sauce. You both fall asleep at a very respectable eleven o’clock.

So, it’s fucking strange when you wake up feeling like you had spent the night inside a paint mixer.

“Are you okay?” Sunny frowns as she stands over a pan of eggs. “You look ill.”

You squint over your coffee cup, “Soulmate is playing up.”

She plates the eggs next to a small stack of bacon before turning to put a hand to your forehead. “They shouldn’t be making you feel sick, illness doesn’t transfer like that. Are you sure it’s coming from them? Could you just be hung over?”

“It’s definitely him, third weekend in a row, like clockwork.” You take your plate gratefully, “It’s like I always tell you. It’s not nausea. It’s more like…”

“Impossible to explain for you and every medical practitioner you’ve ever seen?”

You groan, “It’s like my brain spent the night trying to escape my skull and the muscles in my neck were in on it.”

“It’s not unheard of for soulmates to feel the repercussions of an intense work out. There was this study from four years ago on high performance athletes and their partners that–”

You groan again, “Oh god and now there’s a nerd in my ear!”  

She tosses a gelatinous bit of egg onto your plate. It lands with a splat that makes you fake gag. “Oh, grow up.”

“You should be nice to me,” You lament, “I’m wounded!”

“Your soulmate is wounded.”

“And I’m sure their best friend is taking very good care of them!”

She pulls a face at you but still takes your plate to the dishwasher for you. As she’s rinsing them, she asks, “What’s on for the rest of your weekend?”

“I got a call from my parents on Thursday and guess what?” You sipped at the cold dregs of your coffee, “The dentist finally figured out which one of them the toothache is coming from!”

“That’s great,” Sunny’s smile was genuine. “They’re going in to get it fixed?”

“Tomorrow morning, both going under local anaesthesia.”

You hip checked her lightly out of the way to rinse both your cups. “You want another coffee?”

Sunny propped herself up on the counter, “My caffeine addiction is rubbing off on you I fear.”

“Listen, we have to get through the day somehow.” You coaxed the machine back to life before leaning against the counter to look at Sunny. “Anyway, my parents were supposed to go to this race tomorrow. Dad is particularly devastated and has practically ordered me to represent the family ‘at our home race.’ It’s been tradition for him and mum since they got married. It’s kind of a big deal for him. The man is obsessive.”

“My parents had something similar to say about our family legacy and studying medicine.”

“Speaking of… You remember all the times I sat up with you studying, or brought you food when you forgot to eat, or ran errands for you, or made sure you took breaks, or–”

“Fine, I get it, I’ll go to the stupid race.”

“Oh, how kind of you to offer.” You passed her one of the cups. “It won’t be that bad. Motorsports are supposed to be fun live, right?”

Sunny snorted, “Thank God. Motorsports? I thought you meant like a horse race or a marathon. I was getting war-flashbacks to track-and-field.”

You put a hand to your heart, “You were willing to relive cross country for me?”

“I was willing to ogle fit, sweaty men for you, definitely.”

“Alright, first of all – fuck you. But also same,” You clinked mugs and nodded solemnly at one another, “Maybe we can find some fit, sweaty drivers to ogle instead.”

Sunny hummed, “What do I wear? Is it like sprint cars or more like V8s – ooh is it an illegal drag race?”

“Girl, no.” You swatted at her thigh, “It’s Formula 1, which is perfectly legal and safe and much faster than any of those options.”

“Alright, Miss Daddy’s-Girl, go off.”

“Shut up, I’ve had to hear him go on and on about it my whole life.” You pulled a face at your coffee. “The man has had a hard-on for Ferrari since before he met my mother, and then he met her in the Ferrari hospitality at an F1 race, and he’s fucking worshipped them ever since.”

“Oh my god, why am I only just hearing about this?” She grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks and cooing. “You’re a little Ferrari baby.”

You blew a rather unladylike raspberry at her and knocked her hand away, “Because it’s embarrassing! Dad was only there because he and his friend won tickets. So, when Ferrari marketing caught wind that soulmates had met in their pavilion, they practically fell over themselves.”

“Holy shit!” Sunny practically howled in delight, “Is that where all those baby pictures of you in little Ferrari onesies came from?”

“Ferrari’s own little fairytale, Mr-won-his-way-in and Miss-heir-to-a-real-estate-monopoly. It's like Romeo and Juliet; if Romeo and Juliet survived, had a kid and decided to make it the poster child of their love story.”

“Don’t sound so disgusted, that’s cute as fuck.” Sunny snatches up your empty cup and stacks it next to hers in the dishwasher.

You frown, “Not everything has to be a love story.”

“I don’t know, girl, I’m pretty sure you just asked me to play out your parents first meeting with you tomorrow.” She winks at you over her shoulder as she heads toward her room.

“Oh, fuck off, Sunny.”

“I think this calls for new outfits!” She emerges from her room, towel over one shoulder. “What was your Mum wearing when she met your dad?”

“We are not reenacting my parents meet-cute.”

“Who knows, maybe you’ll have your own meet-cute with a certain pain-prone soulmate, hm?” In the moment it takes you to reorientate yourself after her comment, she’s breezing past you with a bright, “I’m having first shower!”

You squark in indignation. Like hell, you’ll let either of those things happen to you this weekend.

(Part 2 : Ferrari's Prince - 03.05.24)

[theloveinc]

any hobie and/or miguel icks? 😟

whoever sent this: thank you + i ADORE you. i hope you don't mind i'm switching up the formatting/style a it in comparison to my older icks... shorter list, more detailed <3

(warning: some fem terms used at the end, such as “mama!”)

-

Miguel O'Hara

- This guy... has some long ass toenails. Type of toenails that poke you at night in bed, and tear holes in his socks.

It's maybe somewhat related to the claw thing he's got going on? Has a lot stronger and faster-growing nails than the average person... but the real problem here is that he's TERRIBLE about clipping them. Claims it doesn't bother him even remotely and that you're the one overreacting when you ask him to... but hardly anything gets through to him about it. You probably even offer to do it for him one day, thinking the offer of a foot massage would sway his thinking and that it'd actually work... but he fought you on that just as easy...!!!

...which is how you came to the conclusion that you have a man who'll even argue w/ you over toenails. Petty boy.

- Miguel is also tired 24/7. AND yeah, it's pretty hard to be un-sympathetic towards that, but he's tired in the... I'm-gonna-prioritize-this-one-last-email-over-saying-goodnight-to-you way. Which gets real irritating when you're asking him to help you out w/ anything, like cleaning up or answering a question or JUST HAVING A DAMN CONVERSATION W/ YOU and he's using "I'm tired" as an excuse when his response is shitty or distracted.

Like one of those stupid guys whose always squinting at their damn iPad when you ask what he wants for dinner... which is ironic given that he'll get snippy at you for not giving him your full, entire attention whenever he wants it. Type of man to start picking imaginary lint off your head when you're simply trying to finish up a text before engaging him so that you aren't distracted.

- Odd about Lyla. Not that he loves her or anything, but she'll like pop up to give him updates about whatever even if you're MID-MAKEOUT session and he won't change that setting. Pulling away from your lips all pouty and squinty only to glare at his watch for thirty seconds before trying to go right back into kissing you.

No. No sir.

(Lyla will also always say something to or-but-usually-and about you, which... Okay, she's an AI and doesn't Get It... but it's still weird because it feels like someone you don't know just walked into the room.)

- Picks his nose when he's too busy to find a tissue, and forgets to sanitize his hands after. Denies this when you tell him.. but you've witnessed this multiple times (he's weirdly kind of whiney for a dude and lazy for a workaholic LOL).

Hobie Brown

- Lovely boyfriend because he doesn't give a crap about your appearance or the idea of needing to "look nice" for a man... but also stupid, nuisance boyfriend because this means he doesn't give one hoot if you try to get all gussied up for him. Nags you about wasting time getting ready because he doesn't need you to do all that instead of just saying "THANK YOU, YOU LOOK NICE." Even probably complains about you feeding into gender stereotypes or w/e when you do something like shave your legs or pluck your eyebrows😭

You try to talk to him about this, ask if he even cares that you tried to look nice, and he skirts around admitting it because he has an argument for everything. "'oughta know I think you're pretty either way"-ass when you just spent an hour trying to look all good for him.

- Tries to share the most obscure music with you... which is like, sweet in concept, but weird when it actually happens since it's never like a generic love song but an eleven minute underground jam session.

Which isn't to say he has bad taste in music, usually it's fine if not fantastic... but you try to tell him you don't want to listen to some dude's first draft of himself banging on a drum set for a full album and he's like: "tsk."

HOBIE. TSK??? FUCKING TSK????????? WHAT ABOUT WHAT OTHER PEOPLE LIKE????????

(He'll also use his to get out of listening to your music. Claiming his "inconsistency" is why he liked your playlist yesterday but not today. Stop!!!)

- And you know I gotta say it, he's a punk, after all: absolutely refuses to clean his favorite leather jacket, and it smells RANK. He's genuinely sentimental about it, though... and if you even try to bring up cleaning it somehow (even if very gently), he's acting like you betrayed him. Goes through the five stages of grief over you asking him not to wear it on one of your dates, and teases you by TALKING to it:

"Mumma didn't mean that, jackie. She just doesn't understand our lifestyle, does she?" while giving you a (lighthearted) stink eye.

[xetlynn]

Hey! I was wondering if you could do a Eren, Jean, Connie and Reiner x reader. Maybe it could be a get together turned reader getting a train ran on her. But If it’s too much I understand 🫢

Yes... and done! lol

AOT IMAGINES: Eren, Reiner, Jean, and Connie

Game Night!

⚠️WARNING🔞: SMUT!

[aot] [main page] Contains: Filthy smut, filthiest, m!reveiving oral, f!receiving oral, gangbang?, voyeurism, slight exhibitionism, anal, doggy, riding, facef@cking, just a whole lot.

“We have a game night going on tonight, you gonna join?” Eren sneaks up behind you, looping his fingers in your jeans to pull you toward him. “Mm, I don’t know I have lots of homework.” You lie, looking up at him with a small smirk. He scoffs, holding onto your waist. “Don’t leave me alone with them, I’m sure we’ll get to have our fun after…” His eyebrows wiggle up and down causing you to chuckle, shaking your head at his horniness. 

Eren and you have been friends for four years, Jean introduced the two of you since they’ve been friends since middle school and now roommates in college. Ever since last year the two of you have been hooking up on and off. Never getting into something serious but also not messing around with anyone else even though you guys have full permission to do so. 

“You’re an idiot but what time?” Pushing away from him to grab your backpack out of the backseat of your car. “Around 7, so you’re coming?” He secretly not so secretly checks you out while facing the other way and being bent over. Biting his lip to avoid saying something dirty. 

“I guess I will be there. As long as you promise to give me something in return.” You sling your bag over your shoulder, giving him a sultry expression. “Oh I’ll give you something alright.” He pulls you into him by putting his arm around your neck and playfully kissing the top of your head.

 “Okay, I’ll see you later, you freak.” Giving him a quick peck on the lips before hurrying away to your first class of the day. 

•••

“You gonna fuck her tonight, while we’re all here?” Jean crosses his arms, annoyed that his friend has no decency. “Yeah, maybe we can even give you guys a show. If not, I know you’ll get just as excited with hearing her.” Eren rubs his hand down his torso, pretending to get himself off. The ash-brown haired boy sighs, rolling his eyes. “I should’ve never let you two meet if I knew this was going to become a thing.” 

“I’m glad you did, actually.” Eren plops down on their couch, taking his phone out automatically seeing a text from the person they’re conversing about. “Yeah because you get your dick wet now.” 

“Don’t sound too jealous, I’m sure I can share just say the word.” He winks just as Reiner and Connie enter the house with groceries. “What about sharing?” Connie raises a brow, curious. 

“Nothing-” “[Name], he’s jealous because I get to dick her down every night.” Eren cracks himself up with his own words, texting you back at the same time. “Honestly, I get it.” Connie truthfully admits, throwing the bags down on the counter. “I don’t mean to be so crude but yeah, she’s pretty attractive.” Reiner chimes in with dusty red cheeks, sort of feeling guilty for talking about you in such a manner since he’s only met you a total of four times. 

“See, and I bet you she’d be fine with it.” Eren shows a picture of you sucking his dick unprompted making Jean look away in disgust. “Dude, I don’t want to see your fucking penis.” He slaps his friend’s hand causing him to drop his phone. “Such a priss.” Eren snorts, picking his phone back up. 

“When did you tell her to come over?” Reiner changes the subject while pulling out large bowls to put chips in them. “7 so like thirty minutes.” Eren answers, placing his legs on the coffee table. “Did you tell her to bring some friends?” Connie perks up as he asks the question. “No, I don’t need her squealing, obnoxious friends coming.” The long haired brunette scoffs. 

“He’s only saying that because they don’t like him.” Jean smirks, going to the kitchen to help his friends with setting everything up. “They don’t like him?” Reiner raises a brow, not exactly surprised but just wondering what the reason was. “They caught us fucking one time and got envious since their boyfriends didn’t have a huge dick like me.” Eren partially lies. They did catch them fuck once but that was definitely not occasion. 

“He got wasted and told [Name] he loved her then the next day acted like nothing happened.” Jean exposes the guy who’s jaw slacks open, not expecting to be called out. Connie and Reiner laugh. “I don’t understand why you don’t just date her.” Jean shrugs his shoulders, unaffected by the hit to his bicep. “It’s easier this way, no commitment.”

“Doesn’t it make it… more difficult?” Reiner comes and places the chip bowls down. Connie brings bottles of Corona still in the cardboard pack. “Nah, it’s easier. Trust.” Eren crosses his fingers before going back to texting you who was actually down the street already. Being earlier than told to be like you usually were. 

He stands up, heading over to the door as the three finish getting stuff situated for the card games. Normally Armin and a few others would join but they had stuff to do so Eren insisted on inviting [Name] for one time. 

Your black car pulls in a spot in the street since their driveway was packed with their four cars. You come out wearing a simple black skirt and dark green tank top with a black cardigan over it. It was casual but also night. It made Eren’s dick twitch in his pants knowing you could keep that skirt on during sex later. You give him a wave, locking your car behind you as you walk towards the house. He gives a wave back, whistling at you. “A skirt?” He mutters, tilting his head. You smile. “Easy access.” You whisper with a wink as you walk past him and into the house. He mumbles something under his breath, his eyes rolling into the back of his head, following behind. 

“Hey guys!” You address everyone with a polite grin. “Hey, [Name].” Jean gets up to give you a hug. “Hii horse face.” You joke, squeezing him in the hug before letting go. “Nice to see you two again.” You go over to Connie and Reiner to give them hugs as well. “Thank you for having me!” 

“It’s no problem, it’s nice to see you too.” Reiner pats your back gently. “Yeah, we love having you here.” Connie adds. 

“Awe I love being here.” You sit on the couch with Eren and Jean, Connie plops down on the ground as Reiner grabs a chair from the mini dining room they have. 

An hour into playing cards humanity and slight drinking. Not much, only having one corona each and not even finishing them. Eren begins to get antsy, his hand traveling all over your body. Not really being able to be discreet due to sitting on the couch you have to push his hand away.

 After the sixth attempt of touching your inner thigh you stand up. “I’m going to get a water.” You announce, climbing over Eren and accidentally flashing Connie who was now laying on the ground. He didn’t mind one bit though. 

“Get me one too.” Jean says leading a train of the other three wanting one as well. Eren takes this to his advantage and he joins you. To “help you get water bottles.” 

As you're bent over in the fridge, have to dig around protein milks and other drinks to where the waters are in the back. “Man it’s like you’re trying to get fucked in front of my friends.” Eren comes up behind you, rubbing his clothed crotch against your ass. You get startled, hitting your head on the top of the fridge. “Ow!” You cry out, standing up to slap the boy who was laughing. 

“Sorry, sorry, c’mere.” He kisses the back of your head holding your waist to keep you close against him. “Gosh you just want an excuse to touch me.” You whisper, pushing him away from you going back to the fridge and squatting down to quickly grab the five water bottles. 

“We should just go to the bedroom now.” He turns you around, starting to attack your neck knowing it was a weak spot for you. Purposely making it extremely laborious for you to decline his righteous offer. 

“I- no, we're hanging out with your friends Eren!” You meeped out, attempting to force him off of you. “We won’t mind.” A voice speaks from beside the both of you guys. Your heads shoot over to see Connie standing there, taking a swig of his beer. “I mean as long as we could join.” Connie teases, throwing his bottle into the trash then reaching over to grab his water. Your face heats up at his proposal even if it was only a joke it sort of turned you on at the thought. 

You and Eren make eye contact and he sees your pupils dilate making him snicker. “If you’re up for it, let’s get the others. She seems soaked just by her facial expression to your little suggestion.” Eren grabs you by the waist. “Go to the room, get ready for me.” He whispers in your ear, not giving you the choice to argue with him. 

Eren had always made jokes about letting his friends hit while he watched or you would even threaten fucking Jean just to piss him off. So you were beginning to actually get your hopes up. 

As you scurried right to his room, knowing exactly where it is since he would sneak you in at night to have “sleepovers” that just turned into him fucking you for hours. 

Reiner and Jean look confused on why you left in the middle of the game. Both standing up to talk to Eren and Connie who were heading back. “Is she okay?” Jean questions worriedly. “She seemed like she was in a rush.” Reiner mutters. 

“Oh she’s perfect.” Eren throws water bottles at the two of them. Connie was practically beyond himself, not believing this was real. He was only joking because of the shit Eren was talking about earlier. “Why’d she- seriously? Right now?” Jean scrunches his face, not irritated that Eren chose now to fuck you. 

“Wait, wait, listen to him Jean before you get all upset.” Connie puts his hands up then motions Eren to go ahead. Eren licks his teeth before speaking. “She wants us to fuck her. Together. Take turns, you know? Get your little wackers wet. Finally experience life as a man.” Eren begins to ramble, Reiner’s face turns red at his lewd choice of phrases. Jeans mouth opens, going to say something but nothing comes out. Connie laughs, jumping up and down while hitting his friends excitedly. “Are you serious?” Reiner blurts out. 

“Mhm, I was there!” Connie says. “She’s getting ready for us right now.” Eren grabs his hair-tie from his wrist and puts his hair up messily. “Let’s not keep her waiting.” He leads his three roommates into his bedroom where you waited nervously on the edge of his bed. 

Your cardigan is already discarded on his gaming chair. Not knowing what else to do with yourself while you sat there, impatient while also nervous. When the door opened you tensed up, standing up to see the four men walk in. 

“Hey, pretty.” Eren goes over to you, pulling you into a sloppy kiss. “You want this, hm?” He double checks this is something you’re interested in. You nod your head shyly. “Remember what we talked about, babe?” He reminds you and you sigh. “Yes, I want it.” 

“Good girl.” He kisses your jaw. 

Reiner, Connie and Jean watched with dry mouths and erected cocks just begging to be free of their pants. You look over Eren and smile at them. “Well this isn’t a show, come on.” You reach your hand out and they instantly listen. Connie being the first one to connect his lips to yours. Reiner’s thick hands groping your waist and chest as Jean just made out with your neck. Eren stands back for a moment letting his friends enjoy his girl. 

After they took turns manhandling you Eren pushed them off to strip you down quite quickly, not even giving you a chance to understand what was happening. Not even leaving any room for surprises.

“I need you to show them how you suck my dick. Give them a preview of what’s coming.” He takes you by your neck and you whimper in response before dropping to your knees. Your body shivered from the sudden coldness, your nipples hardening. 

As you took Eren’s pants and boxers off for him he took his shirt off to expose his abs just the way you like it. His dick sprung up, hitting his lower stomach, your mouth watering at the sight. Pussy clenching around nothing, your thighs tightening together to soothe the ache. 

In the corner of your eyes the three boys slowly got undressed, rubbing their own cocks  while staring down at you. Observing your every move you make on Eren’s hard-on. 

Your smaller hands grab onto him, giving it gentle kisses with your licked lips. His member fidgets with every first touch you’ve made. You look up to him with a smile before sticking your tongue out, flattening it when his member lays in his mouth. He lets out a fluttery groan. 

“So perfect, angel.” He grabs ahold of your hair once your head starts to bob back and forth. 

The smutty sounds of his dick hitting the back of your throat and the sultry sucks of your hollowed cheeks. Eren pets your hair, fixing it after he grabbed it. “Th-there we go, just like that.” He huffs out. He turns to the three who are bewildered. “Jean, come here.” He orders, Jean slowly does so, standing on the right side of you. “Take his dick in your hand, angel.” 

You cooperate smoothly while swirling your tongue around Eren’s cock. Taking Jean’s member in hand, feeling it. He had similar size to Eren, maybe a little shorter but almost the same. You take Eren out of your mouth for a split second. “Spit in my hand.” You tell Jean who looks taken aback at first but does what he’s told. 

You get back to blowing the long haired boy as you begin to pump Jean slowly. Speeding up pace when you get a little too focused on Eren. Your hand tightening. “Oh fuck.” Jean throws his head back in pleasure from the vulgar handjob. 

“I’m getting close…” Eren takes your head with both hands and humps into your mouth, his dick now roughly thrusting in and out. “Take it, take it, make sure to swallow.” He whines deeply, his coarse words making your pussy even more drenched than it already was.

Eren shoves you further onto his cock, your nose touching his stomach as his seed fills down your throat. “Yeah, good girl, good girl.” He whispers, hearing your gags and moans. Your empty hand scraping down his thigh. 

He roughly lets you go and you let out coughs, recuperating. Getting your breathing back to normal. Eren lifts your face up. “Open.” He orders. You do so, he moves your head around making sure there was nothing left in there. He spits in your mouth before kissing you.

“You’re a bit mean.” Connie chuckles darkly. “She likes it.” Eren pets your face. “Don’t you, angel?” He crouches down to your level and you nod your head. Your hand still held onto Jean but it wasn’t moving. Jean didn’t mind though. His head was already filled with ideas of what he wanted to do with you. 

“Damn…” Connie murmurs. 

“Take it away Jean.” Eren smacks his friends back. Jean wanted to hit him back but instead his focus turned to you. “Stand up, sweetheart.” He spoke nicer to you than Eren just was. You take his extended hand and he helps you up. “On the bed.” He motions. 

You climb on the bed and sit on your needs, looking vulnerable but oh-so-gorgeous. Your lips plumped from Eren using your mouth so tastelessly. Your boobs on display for the whole room to see and your thighs are plump and soft-looking. “Lay back, I’m going to take care of you now.” Jean touches your shoulder and you adjust yourself. Putting pillows down where your head was going to lay so you could also watch what was going to happen to you. 

“I want a little taste.” He smiles, his calloused hands pulling your legs apart. “Beautiful cunt, don’t you boys think?” Jean moves out of the way for Reiner and Connie to see. Eren even glances over Jean’s shoulder as if he doesn’t see it on the regular. 

“Didn’t see you as a munch, horse boy.” You commentate, poking fun at your long time friend. “Yeah, yeah.” He kneels down, grabbing your hips and yanking you to the edge of the bed. You yelp at the unexpected action. He snickers. Jean kitten licks at your clit, toying with it up and down then side to side. You hum in response to it. He then sucks on it, keeping it between his lips. He earns a gasp from you. Feeding his ego. 

“Oh my goodness.” Your leg goes over his shoulder as he embarks on a new set of pace with his tongue. Lapping up all of your juices, exploring every crevice of your delectable pussy. 

“Shit, shit, that feels amazing.” You squeal, grabbing his hair with one hand and your other playing with your nipple. He pulls back for a singular moment to breathe it all in. “It tastes so sweet like candy.” He informs the two that watch. They were so invested in the scene before them that they weren’t even paying attention to their own cocks. 

Jean attacks your nub once more, his face moving side to side giving even more friction to you. Your pussy talking back to him, the wetness squelching with his eating. “I think she needs more attention, huh?” Jean chuckles, entering a singular finger inside your hole. “Ha-hah, add another.” You breathily moan, bringing him closer with your calf up against the back of his head. 

He does as you asked, his fingers pumping slowly in and out, matching what he did with his mouth. His fingers inspect your walls, curling to reach your g-spot. You jerk your hips up in response. “Are you getting close, angel?” Eren comes up next to you on the bed, rubbing his dick while watching your pornographic expression laid across your face. The scrunching of your nose indicating that you were about to reach your first orgasm of the night. “Mhm, ‘s so good, Eren.” You wail, chest heaving up and down. “Don’t tell me that, angel. Praise the one doing you.” He kisses your forehead.

“Jean, your doing fucking amazing.” You gritted out, tugging on his hair. “Mhm?” His voice vibrates onto your clit causing that chain reaction, your pussy walls pulsing and clenching down on his fingers as you squirt right into his mouth. 

“Fuck!” You scream, rolling your pelvis down to ride out the wave. “God damn.” Reiner huffs shakily, not ready for his turn after that. 

Once you let go of his hair Jean pulls back, his fingers leaving you empty. The three boys watch your little desperate hole gape, moving for absolutely nothing. “I need a sample real quick.” Connie flips you over without a warning and spreads your ass cheeks before he dives right into your already sensitive pussy. You let out a loud moan, your hand attempting to push his head back to no avail. His tongue and lips attacking your cunt like a mad-man who has never eaten before in his life.

 “Oh my god!” You cry out, your face hiding in the sheets, teeth biting down on the pillow. He pulls back so he can go back in and motorboat himself between your ass. “Fucking hell.” Connie says. “I’m sorry Jean but I can’t wait anymore.” He says to his roommate who just puts his hands up in understanding. Not stopping Connie whatsoever. 

The buzz-cut headed man spits down on his member, lathering it around with his hand.

 “Sorry for this, [Name] I’m just too impatient.” He apologizes quietly, you go to turn your head but he pushes it back down with his hand and without notice his dick is fully sheathed into that tight hole of yours. Your walls ping in pain for only a small moment. It was already distracted by the malicious, supersonic thrusts, in and out of your cunt. His hand smacking down on your ass cheeks.

Eren grins at the sight, he knew you enjoyed taking it rough. Eren stands up, getting his phone from his pants pocket and then going over to you. “Say cheese, angel.” He cooed at you. You lift your head up with a fuck-out smile, Connie doing a rock-and-roll sign with one hand as the other was gripping your ass roughly, his tongue sticking out. Eren clicks the button a few times, getting different angles. 

Your legs shake at the force of him pistoning in and out of you. Getting close once again just from Connie Springer fucking the absolute shit out fo you. “This pussy is ruining me.” He grunts, his thumb sliding down from your ass cheek to in between the other. Carefully maneuvering to your puckered other pink hole. “You like your asshole being toyed with? Ever stuck anything in here?” Connie asks as he slid his thumb around it. “No.” You shake your head. He smirks. “Glad I can be the first one.” He sticks it in with no remorse and your back stretches out. “Ho-holy fuck!” You scream out.

His thumb toys around your asshole, not going too deep but enough to know he’s there. You arch back down, wiggling closer to him as your tummy tightenings. “Gonna cum…” You mutter. “Really? You going to cum because of this dick?” Connie begins to repeatedly hit the back of your pussy, over and over again. “Mhm, go-gonna cum all over that dick, you dick!” 

“I’m a slut for this cock.” You huff. “A slut, huh?” He furrows his brows, slapping down on your ass another time. “Yeah a dirty fucking slut.” You answer him. 

“Yeah you are.” He laughs as your body begins to jerk and jolt. Waves of pleasure hitting you all at once and you let go. Your pussy creaming all over his dick along with squirt spraying out making a huge mess on the sheets with no one to catch it this time. “Gonna cum.” Connie lets you go, pushing you forward to take his dick out. His hand jerking it off really fast. His noises get stuck in his throat as he cums on your reddened ass cheeks. 

You lay there quietly, catching your breath after your second orgasm. Eren takes a picture of your cum sprayed ass, your own liquids dripping down your thighs along with the messied sheets all in frame. He lifts you up by your hair and shows you the picture. “Send me that.” You tiredly say. “Of course.” He snorts. 

“Who do you want next, angel? Jean or Reiner?” Eren quizzes you after wiping your ass with his cum rag that he had laying next to the bed already washed for tonight. “Both.” You lift yourself up, wagging your finger for the boys to get on the bed. Your face was a mess, tears stained cheeks, the little makeup you had on practically gone. 

You had laid Reiner down on the bed and had Jean stay at the edge of the bed. “Be patient.” Was all you said to him before you climbed on the dirty-blonde who was being super quiet. “Nice seeing you.” You say, reminding him of when you first entered the house. His face flushes. “You too.” 

You giggle, you stand on your toes as you squat all the way down. Looking down at his dick it was girthier than all the other guys. Nice size as well. You bite your bottom lip, excited. 

“Hold it up for me, handsome.” You tell him, his hand slowly goes to the base of his cock, standing it straight up for you. 

You hold onto his chest with both hands as you leveled yourself down on him. Aggravatingly slow until it filled you all the way. You fixed your footing before you bounced up and down. Still holding onto his pecs to keep yourself balanced. “Thick, thick dick.” You moaned out, your skin clapping each time you bounced down onto his thighs. “Tight pussy.” He grunts in response, slapping your ass. “Mhm, you think so?” You ask, it almost sounded sincere. “So perfect.” He whimpers. 

His hands go to your waist to help you keep going. You were rotating your hips perfectly but Reiner needed more. He enjoyed watching your perfect tits moving like water in front of his face but he had to fuck you. 

Reiner plants his feet down on the bed, thrusting his hips up causing you to fall forward on him. “Sorry, you were going too slow.” He holds you close with an arm over your waist, rutting his hips up into you. “It-it’s oka-ay!” You assure him, your legs drop letting him do all of the work now. “Hah- fuck!” You held onto him by his neck as he fucked you. Your face hiding in his chest. 

Eren takes another picture from where Jean was. “Get in there man.” Eren points to your ass. “She’s an anal virgin, perfect for you.” He winks. Jean’s cheeks turn pink from his friend's filthy mouth. 

Eren and you both lied, he’s been in your ass before, but you guys both knew they would enjoy hearing that you never did it. Reiner notices what Jean was about to do so he slowed down, letting you lean slightly back up. Jean comes up behind after making sure his dick was lathered with a mixture of his pre-cum and spit. He takes some of your own cum that was on Reiners dick and adds it to his own. 

Reiner stops but keeps you on his chest as Jean slowly enters your asshole. You let out a cry, gripping even tighter onto the blond. “You okay?” Jean stops just right past his tip. “Keep going, keep going.” You encourage him. 

He thrusts forward until he bottoms out. Reiner felt Jean's dick on the other side when he began to move. You practically felt them rubbing up on another inside you. Connie joins you three on the bed, standing over you to get an even better view. Eren as the pro-photography he was becoming takes a few more photos from different angles as you get fucked in the ass and pussy at the same time. 

You notice Connie and you grab onto his thigh. “C’mere.” You pull him close and he puts his leg on the other side of Reiner so he is right in front of you now. 

“Fuck my throat.” You crudely tell him. Connie smirks, taking your head with one hand, sliding his dick into your mouth. “Give me the phone Eren.” Connie reaches out and the brunette hands it over. Connie takes a video of himself facefucking you as you yourself get fucked. 

Eren does a peace sign in the background, rubbing his cock with his other hand. 

+Extra+

The four boys were in the kitchen as you were sound asleep in the room after being cleaned up. “That was insane.” Jean takes a drink of water. Reiner nodded in agreement. “I told you man, she’s something else.” Eren laughs, leaning against the counter. 

“She really knows how to take dick. I would’ve never guessed it either.” Connie talks to himself as he watches the video he took. “You were hiding that from us for too long.” The bald-headed boy hands the phone back to its owner. “Well I had to do a build up somehow. Didn’t even know what you were missing.” Eren grins proudly. 

“Wife her up.” Jean points a finger in his friend's chest. “Yeah because now that I know that exists… I might have to steal her away.” Connie puts his hands up defensively before leaving the kitchen.

“Hate to agree.” Reiner chuckles.

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

This took me... 4 hours to make? Smut takes me a very long time... I hope it was good though omg. Second time making a smut imagine:0

[cameronspecial]

omg please write, enemy!rafe texting reader about something, and then he just starts flirting with her but she’s just bitchy back, and he’s like “see you later” or something like that

Let Me Fix This, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Swearing and Toxic Rafe

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.8K

Masterlist

Rafe’s rules weren’t normally a probably and Y/N understood he created them so that they could have a healthy relationship and she was safe. However, at this moment, she can’t because he is going too far. “I turned it off by accident, Rafe. I don’t know how it happened, but it wasn’t on purpose,” she grits through her teeth. His eyes narrow as he holds her phone up to her, “That’s literally impossible. You have to go through so many steps to turn it off. You intended to do it!” She cowers back at the harshness of his words. He hasn’t spoken to her like this since their first fight. Since then, whenever he felt his volume rising, he would leave the room to calm down. “It was an accident!” she argues. Anger takes him over. Before he can control himself, he throws her phone across the room and the smashing of glass against the wall has her turning to see her broken for on the floor. She looks back at him and shrinks away from him. The fear in her eyes makes him instantly regret what he did. It tears his heart apart. 

“You crossed a fucking line and I don’t think I can handle this side of you anymore.”

He freezes as she grabs her purse and storms out of the room. Once she’s out of the room, the reality of her words sets in. He runs after her, “Angel, wait. I’m so sorry.” He doesn’t find her in the hallway and he rushes down the stairs to see if he can catch up to her. “She’s gone, Dude. Kelce is giving her a ride,” Topper announces from behind him. Rafe’s fingers go through his hair and he pulls, “Shit.” He totally fucked up. And he doesn’t know what he is going to do if he can’t get her back. 

———

He blocked her. He knows she did because the texts don’t show as being seen or even as delivered. It’s only been three hours but it has been the longest they haven’t talked and he is getting seriously concerned that they aren’t together anymore. He finally thinks he has figured out what to do. His knuckles wrap against her dorm door. He takes a deep breath, nervous she won’t open the door. His hand, not holding the bag and flowers, fidgets with his sleeve. The door swings open and her familiar scent fills his nostril. “What the fuck are you doing here? I thought I made it clear what I think we are,” she grumbles, trying to close the door in his face. He drops to his knees and this bars the door from shutting. His hands clasp in a plea, “Please, let me fix this, Angel. I can’t live with myself if this is where we end.” She shouldn’t. What happened early today was a red flag and she wouldn’t want to be someone who ignores those. Yet, something in her knew that even if she was scared at that moment, she should at least hear him out. 

“Fine, you have three minutes,” she orders, stepping back so he can enter her room. He rushes to his feet and he resists the urge to pepper her with kisses. He hands her the flowers, pulling out the phone box from the bag. He hands both to her. “These are for you. I’m sorry I broke your phone,” he apologizes. She takes them both and sets them on the table with a mumbled thanks. 

“Is that all you are going to say?” she prods. His head shakes vehemently, “No. No. No. Honestly, it’s only the start of a thirty-hour speech I made in my head. I’ll shorten it for your sake though.” She flicks her chin to get him to keep going. 

“There isn’t an excuse for how I reacted today. I let out a side of myself that I never wanted to be directed toward you and I will regret it for the rest of your life. I never should’ve thrown your phone or yelled at you. I let my insecurities and my worry get the best of me and it clouded my judgement. I know it was an accident, Angel. I should’ve believed you when you said it. I just get so anxious when I can’t be there to protect you because you are my whole life. And… And…”

Tears are formed in his eyes and his voice is breaking. She doesn’t need him to finish the sentence to know where it is going. They’ve never really needed words to communicate how they feel. Her need to comfort him overpowers her and she steps into his reach, wrapping her arms around him. He buries his head into her neck. His tears stain her skin. “Shh, it’s okay. You don’t need to finish. I understand and I forgive you. I couldn’t live with myself if I lost you,” she admits, running her hand through his hair. “Don’t misunderstand me though. Pull a stunt like that again and you won’t ever see me again.” His lips press against her skin. “I’d never dream of it.” 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

[50cal-fullauto-astarion]

horny, sulky, kinda mean, kinda roughhousing könig thought bc it's my birthday, it's 2:50am, i have been horny like a fuckin werewolf for like a week now. f!reader ig for talk about pussy.

So our man König doesn’t keep normal hours—not that you do, but dude is two days back from KorTac and pretty much strung out on the “fun” amphetamines KorTac req officers pass out like candy if you even wave smth that looks like a form at them. So kind of out of the worst of it, exhausted, but wired and feeling kind of shitty and toothy and wound up.

He wants to fuck. Easiest way to diffuse, decompress, and he’s hard as shit by the time he lumbers his way into bed with you—over you—all around you. You were reading off your kindle, not anymore. He plucks that shit right out of your hand and puts it behind him, tangling those long, heavy limbs around you like a boa constrictor.

“Was wondering when this was going to happen,” you say, hissing when he’s none to kind in nipping the skin of your neck, wrapping his arms around your torso, pushing your breasts up under your t-shirt. “Shit, you’re moody,” it’s half a laugh, and a grapple at not immediately just folding and giving into him. You like to bite, too.

“Give me your mouth,” he grunts, nose pushed into the spot behind your ear. He’s pushing down your underwear, singlemindedly stripping you down. His words make your skin humid, “Gonna play with your pussy, want you fucking wet for me.”

You give that little bit, turning your head over your shoulder, smirking into a kiss that drives deliriously deep as soon as contact is made. König isn’t a prim kisser, but a primal one. It’s not a clean act; sloppy, yes, and somehow tinged with something kin to restrained violence. Challenge? Dick swinging? Maybe something more biblical in nature—gluttony, or greed.

He’s a fearsome thing, and he may only be beautiful to you. A needful thing, too, twisting nest of starved serpents—6 feet 10 inches and pushing-300-lbs of fucking muscle, battering-ram-body housing more than thirty years of neglect-crushed memory out for retribution.

But you never were a target. He didn’t have a choice in that matter. You both know good and goddamned well that you picked him. Everything he gets away with is at your allowance, and good fucking Christ, he loves you for it.

His cock throbs against your bare ass through his boxers as his arm wraps around you, craning his hand to pump two big fingers into your sopping cunt, angling his wrist so he can press and rub your clit with his thumb.

Man’s got his perversions, and he’s the most physical person you’ve ever met in your life. He’s had a fraction of the sex he’s fantasized about, but you’ve covered hectares of that ground since you’ve gotten together. He’s a quick study, and his mind’s a nightmare of steel trap memory. He never forgets what you like.

Two fingers turn to three, and he almost pushes it to four—assured torture, too much stretch too fast—before you snap a hand around his wrist and buck hard back against him, seething his name in warning. “Don’t fucking dare.”

“Ja. Ja, Schatzi,” he mumbles, breathing hard and too collected. You’re both sweating already, and the bed feels too damn warm, but neither of you shift. The spooning position is perfect as-is, only needs acted upon. In the mean time, he draws his slicked fingers up, leaving them in the air before your mouth in question. He groans and shudders harshly when you take the digits into your mouth, almost laughing at the ever-fresh amusement of your own taste. Salt and cold coins, your own metallic tang a complement to the one on his skin. His voice shakes as he warns, “Time, now. It’s time, bitte, aw, fuck.”

Just like that, he sinks right into you, to the base, balls pressed tight against your lips due to your body’s contortioning to meld against his form. An ungodly moan bellows out of his throat, rattling from his chest into yours, arms tightening around you. You meet the fuck-weird noises, turning your head to keen into your pillows and pressing back against him. Your hand anchors behind you on his hip, as if pinning him in place, affixing your bodies together.

You both hang in a moment of suspension, hearts pounding, minds blank, stomachs rising as if careening over a hill with momentum not sparing you a moments reprieve.

When that finally snaps, you have to force him to focus, to fuck, and he’s slow about it, grinding into you as your cunt sucks him deeper.

That huge hand you know so well drops between your legs, right back to toying with you. Oh it doesn’t take long to get you off, bent in half on your side, holding onto him and gasping as you’re hit with wave after wave of pleasure.

He’s not subtle to signal when it’s his turn. He pulls you back up and clamps his teeth into your shoulder, biting down hard through the fabric of your shirt, fucking you rough, now, and unheeding, like an animal in heat. When he finally finishes, spasming and jolting all over now that his balls have been emptied into you, he leaves his heavy arm over your waist, keeping you close. “Good shit,” he mumbles, throat sticking to itself it’s so dry as he pants, parched, “we split a smoke?”

You’re not much better, even though you’ve bravado to fucking spare. “I smoke. You go the hell to sleep now,” you try to sound stern and dismissive, but there’s a laugh in your tone some place. And fondness, undeniably. You feel his grin against your neck, his body purring mhm in question. “Feel better?” you ask, at length, stroking the hair on his forearms.

“Yes,” he says after a moment, weak and sweet with relief, “can sleep now.” A pause, you can hear him thinking. “Won’t, though. Because you were an asshole and had to bring it up first.” His laugh wheezes, low and susurring.