#she could use her strength on my any day
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multistanninglifestyle · 3 months ago
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girlypsyop · 1 year ago
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Man. Leaving a toxic relationship is just an exercise in learning how to live in your own head again.
#lot going on in here folks :'(#but also :')#for a few weeks i couldnt be alone couldnt be in silence couldnt just. think.#im loving myself again. im laughing and connecting and god im so excited for what comes next#june 19th lana..... you are my soulmate my rock my queen you are everything to me#bc june 19th lana had the strength to leave#june 19th lana swept me off my fucking feet and she fought and yelled and stayed up for 4 days straight#so that 4 days later i could be free again <3#i will work so fucking hard for june 19th lana.... i never want her to have any regrets... any whatifs....#im going to give june 19th lana the life she hopes shes fighting for#those four days were torture... moving... yelling... crying crying crying... more moving... driving...#she did that... for me....#literally she talked to me often... she would sit amongst the boxes and fear and heartbreak and shed talk to her future self#which ig is me <3 and shed tell me how she loved me and how i better not screw this up and she begged me to love her again#god i love her again. i love that mess of a girl. beautiful and strong and terrible! and she got out despite the torture.#june 19th lana. also june 20th 21st and 22nd lana. i hear you. you will have such a beautiful wonderful life i swear#one you will never ever second guess#he fucking killed us! he killed you! the connection the devotion the love it masked the insidious truth that you had to die for that shit#the life he could give you...its pathetic compared to what im gonna give you.#and unlike every promise he ever made... i never go back on my word :)#ok bye
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alex51324 · 7 months ago
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So, the NDA signed by producers of The Apprentice just expired, and one of them has published a tell-all article. Most of the article is about how they used standard reality-TV tricks to portray Trump as being wealthy and intelligent, when in reality he was, and is, a deeply indebted buffoon.
The money shot, however, comes when Trump and the producers are preparing for climax of the final episode, when the winner will be decided.
Per the FCC's rules for game shows, producers could not be involved in deciding who would be fired each week, or who would ultimately win: it had to be Trump's decision alone, like contestants and viewers were told it was. The producers could, and did, give him a presentation about the strengths and weaknesses of the contestants each time he had to make a decision. These were recorded, in case questions ever arose about whether the producers had crossed the line.
So, for the final episode, there were two contestants remaining. Both were men, one white, the other Black. They'd both done well in the final challenge of the competition. As the producers were summarizing the points for an against each candidate, this happened:
“Yeah,” he says to no one in particular, “but, I mean, would America buy a n— winning?” Kepcher’s pale skin goes bright red. I turn my gaze toward Trump. He continues to wince. He is serious, and he is adamant about not hiring Jackson.
In the finished program, Trump chose the white contestant as the winner.
(Four years later, Trump would propagate the baseless conspiracy theory that Barack Obama was not a native-born US citizen and therefore had not legitimately won the presidency.)
The article also describes how women working on the production faced discrimination based on whether or not Trump wanted to look at them while they did their jobs:
While leering at a female camera assistant or assessing the physical attributes of a female contestant for whoever is listening, he orders a female camera operator off an elevator on which she is about to film him. “She’s too heavy,” I hear him say. Another female camera operator, who happens to have blond hair and blue eyes, draws from Trump comparisons to his own Ivanka Trump. “There’s a beautiful woman behind that camera,” he says toward a line of 10 different operators set up in the foyer of Trump Tower one day. “That’s all I want to look at.”
And there's a third anecdote where he pressures a woman producer to break the FCC rules, while being casually misogynistic toward a contestant:
Trump corners a female producer and asks her whom he should fire. She demurs, saying something about how one of the contestants blamed another for their team losing. Trump then raises his hands, cupping them to his chest: “You mean the one with the …?” He doesn’t know the contestant’s name. Trump eventually fires her.
This information is pretty unlikely to persuade anyone who wasn't already persuaded by any of the other things Trump has done and said, which would for anyone else be a career-defining scandal. But it is a useful reminder of who we're dealing with.
(Link is to Slate, an x-number-of-free-articles-a-month site, but the incognito window trick works.)
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seumyo · 4 days ago
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a softie for sentimentality, bakugou katsuki.
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Bakugou wears a bracelet. You’ve known about it for as long as you could remember, but only decided to acknowledge it now that you’re in your third year at UA, two weeks before graduation.
It wasn’t flashy or adorned with any kind of logo—just a simple, sturdy piece of metal with a stainless clasp that he seemed to wear all the time. You tilted your head as you studied it.
“You’ve had that bracelet for as long as I can remember,” you said, sitting down on his study chair. It’s a privilege to even set foot inside of his room without immediately being told (yelled) off, really.
Bakugou looked up from his book and glanced at you. “Yeah, and?”
“Is there, like, a story behind it?”
“No story,” he said with a shrug, but you weren’t entirely convinced.
“Really? That’s so bland. I thought there’d be like a gut-wrenching or life-changing story for it.”
He sat up from his bed with a huff, his eyes narrowing at you. “It’s just somethin’ I wear. What’s it to you?”
You raised your hands in mock surrender, a playful smile on your lips. “Alright, Mr. Mysterious. Keep your secrets.”
“Fuck off, dipshit.”
“Again with that! Why can’t you be nicer now that we’re graduating?”
“Shut up,” he grumbled.
-
But the conversation stuck to you.
It’s the day of graduation when you presented him with a small, handmade box. It was simple, made of sturdy cardboard decorated with his signature colors and an orange ribbon to match. Bakugou rose a brow.
“What’s this for?” He asks, holding it up like the box might explode at any given moment, though there was no bite to it.
“A box.”
“No shit,” he scoffs, “what’s in it?”
“Open it to find out!” You egged him on.
Bakugou sighs, opening the box with a focused pout. He went quiet when he saw what was inside.
“Ta-da! A bracelet,” you said, smiling. “For you. Thought you could use something new to switch things up.”
He held the stringed bracelet in his hand, looking at the material as if it would erupt in flames if he glared hard enough. It was a stark contrast to his metal one—brightly colored warm complementary beads with little charms that somehow still managed to feel like him. There was a red charm shaped like an explosion, a black bead with a skull design, and a small silver charm with an engraved kanji for “strength.”
“I’m not wearing this,” he said flatly.
It’s like your cartoonish heart balloon had suddenly been popped with a prickly needle.
“What? Why not? It’s cool!” you argued. “I even made it myself to really match you!”
“It’s not my style.”
“Sure it is. Look, it’s got black, silver, and even a little red—it screams Bakugou Katsuki.”
“I didn’t get you anythin’ as a parting gift,” he tells you.
“Don’t worry about it! It’s fine,” you replied, waving your hand in dismissal. “Just thought this’ll go with your metal bracelet.”
He nodded, though there was a somewhat frustrated pout on his expression, muttering something under his breath a soft “thanks,” and placed the gift back in the box, never actually letting you see him wearing it during that moment.
-
Years later, during a photoshoot for the yearly hero gala, Bakugou stood in front of the camera in his full Dynamight suit. The photographer adjusted the lights, snapping rapid shots as Bakugou struck his signature confident poses.
“Hold still,” the stylist said, adjusting his gauntlet slightly. Her eyes flicked to his wrist, and she paused. “Oh, that’s cute. Is that handmade?”
Bakugou blinked, following her gaze. Wrapped around his wrist, right next to his ever-present metal bracelet, was the colorful string bracelet you had made him all those years ago.
He stiffened slightly, but instead of taking it off, he shrugged. “Yeah. What about it?”
The stylist smiled warmly. “It’s a nice touch. Makes you seem... approachable. And quite frankly, it matches your suit.”
Bakugou snorted. “Whatever. Let’s get this over with.”
-
When the photos surfaced online, fans quickly noticed the bracelet. Social media practically exploded that day.
Is Dynamight wearing a friendship bracelet??
A HANDMADE BRACELET ON DYNAMIGHT??
Guys, he’s worn this thing for YEARS. Check the old pictures! 🙂‍↔️
You, of course, caught wind of the news—because honestly, who wouldn’t when it took all social media platforms by storm? You saw the posts one evening while scrolling through your phone. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw the photos. It was unmistakable—the bracelet you had made all those years ago.
Long after your UA days were behind you and your lives had taken you and Bakugou down different paths, the all-too-familiar bracelet made you smile sadly—more nostalgic happiness than actual sadness, really.
You stared at the screen, sighing quietly. You thought back to the last time you’d spoken, to the unspoken decision that had pulled you in different directions. You never thought something as small as a bracelet would still mean anything to him.
You didn’t even think you’d live to see the day he wears it, much less keep it after the years.
But there it was, bright and unapologetic on his wrist, a subtle reminder of a bond that hadn’t completely faded with time.
Somewhere across the city, Bakugou stood on a rooftop, the evening wind tugging at his hero uniform. He glanced down at the bracelet on his wrist, running his thumb over the frayed edges of the string. He smirked to himself, a quiet acknowledgment of the past and the person who’d given it to him.
“Guess you were right,” he muttered, his voice barely audible over the wind. “It does scream Bakugou Katsuki.”
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gutsby · 9 months ago
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Diehard
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Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader
Summary: Joel tries Viagra for the very first time.
Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v. Erectile dysfunction. Daddy kink. Praise kink if you squint. Overstimulation. Cumplay. She/her pussy pronouns. Pushing physical limits with a pre-negotiated safe word in place for it.
Note: No more limp dick erasure. We die like [old] men.
Part of the Waiting Game ‘verse | Word count: 986
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Joel just wanted to prove he could fuck like he used to.
He didn’t think he’d almost kill you in the process.
“JOEL!” you screeched, heels digging deep in the mattress as your climax came in seismic waves.
The stimulation was insane. Normally the much-older man would have been down for the count after two—and usually one—big O, but now his chest was heaving, hips relentlessly beating a punishing pace against your own.
Your walls were slick with not only your cum but his, milky ropes of his arousal making for an obscene set of sounds every time his dick slid in and out of your cunt. You could feel his balls tighten and twitch with every forthcoming spurt of him, practically reeling with the pulse of each new sticky gift inside you. His groans rumbled low, but the power and pleasure and outright primal fervor they conveyed were unmistakeable. You had to look down, feebly, to believe it yourself—Joel never fucked his way through your orgasm and his.
Then you felt a palm slide up the back of your head, and Joel held it up to make sure you watched him fuck you.
“J-Joel,” you whimpered, watching his girth disappear and reappear at least a half-dozen times as you did.
“Just a little more, honey,” he murmured against your forehead. The smack of each thrust was dizzying, “Want my pretty girl nice and full’a me before she leaves, okay?”
Joel never could let you head back to college without a few of his loads and a head full of filthy memories—something to hold you over until your next visit home. You would’ve liked to mumble back, ‘Okay,’ but then your pussy clenched around him, and his thrusts grew faster.
“My sweet girl,” he grinned, “She likes that, huh?”
You could scarcely manage a nod. The weight of your head was held fully by him, and if that wasn’t indicative enough of your fucked-out state, your face surely said the rest. When Joel leaned back to adjust the angle of his thrusts, he caught sight of your hooded, glossy stare and almost came all over again. He slowed his pace for once.
Then he dipped a finger between your body and his, just long enough to douse the tip of his digit with cum. He bottomed out inside you, watched you part your lips in a gentle gasp, and pressed his touch to that open space.
It was almost like you didn’t have the strength to suck. You just let him smear the sticky stuff along your lower lip, gaze plastered to his. Then Joel’s cock sank deeper.
“O-ow!” you whined, partly reanimated by the stretch.
“You can take it,” Joel grunted.
The double entendre wasn’t lost on you. You could, and would, take his finger and his cock inside. You suckled dumbly on the cum-drenched fingertip in assent.
But when Joel’s finger popped out of your mouth and his thrusts picked back up, you weren’t entirely convinced you would be able to hold up the second half of that deal.
It wasn’t fair. He took one magic pill, and poof, his dick stayed hard for half the fucking day. You had nothing but your youth and two shaking legs to ensure your survival. When Joel worked his cock back and forth a couple more times and it seemed your body was about ready to scream, you took hold of his biceps and squeezed tight.
“I can’t.”
“Can’t what?”
The tip of his cock nicked a soft ridge inside you, and you jolted back. Joel’s palm was still pressed to your head, holding you to him, and his hips had you pinned as well.
Instead of answering, you whimpered.
You didn’t want him to stop, but you also weren’t sure if you could handle any more. Your eyes met his, pleading.
“Can’t what?” Joel pressed, a little more sternly.
Another whimper. Inside, Joel’s cock was rubbing that pleasure point raw, and you felt another climax coming.
“Use your words.”
“Too— too—”
Each new thrust was sending stars before your eyes. Joel was one sick man if he tried to make you talk while he fucked you past the point of all intelligible speech.
“Too what? Tell me, baby.”
You’d get that fucker back someday. Joel just grinned.
“Too much,” you hissed when his hips delivered another mind-numbing push. Then, feeling pleasure threaten to peak at almost a painful degree, “Toomuchtoomucht—”
Joel continued thrusting, knowing damn well you knew what to say if you really wanted him to stop. As if to underscore this point, he tipped your head back and made you hold his gaze, features creased with a frown.
“That sure don’t sound like the safe word to me.”
It wasn’t. You knew it wasn’t. He didn’t need to tell you twice, or even breathe a second word besides. With one more brush of Joel’s thick, throbbing, implausibly hard cock, he sent you over the edge and into your fourth orgasm of the morning, hitting that spot again and again.
And again.
And again.
Just like before, Joel fucked you through each wave, catching your lips this time to stifle your cries. You might’ve gone blind for a second or two, but that was alright; the pleasure, proximity, and then the sweet, erratic pulse of his cock sending rope after rope of his cum deep inside made the overstimulation worthwhile.
Your body went limp against the bed, held tight in Joel’s grasp, when you felt that sickly sweet dichotomy of soft, tender touches and a cock lodged between your walls that was as hard as it had ever been. Still trying to console you with kisses, still trying to warm you up for another round, perhaps, Joel almost laughed out loud in your mouth when you groaned into his and whispered:
“Please don’t ever take that fucking pill again.”
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whoreforsexymen · 1 month ago
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Vander 🫗 | SMUT Headcanons
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Pairings: Vander x Reader, Dom!Vander x Reader
Rating: NSFW!! 18+, MDNI ! You WILL be blocked.
Pronouns: She/Her + Female Anatomy Descriptions
Word Count: 898
Tags: DaddyDom!Vander, Spit play, Finger Sucking, Fingering, Crawling, Thigh Riding, Rough Sex, Dacryphilia, Size Difference, Etc.
Notes: Just some spicy Headcanons for our big, old, husky, bearded barman 🤍 as well as some for a darker version of our big teddy bear dad 🤍
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- Vander is completely enchanted by your lips. Every chance he gets, especially when he cradles your face in his hands, he can’t resist the urge to brush his thumb over them, savoring their softness. It’s also no wonder how primal it makes him feel considering how your own natural instinct is to suck the skin of his thumb gently. Every. Single. Time.
- He can’t help but prod at them until you let him breach the surface. You’re always so hungry for a taste of him, no matter if it’s his cock or his fingers. Always so insatiable, and deeply unsatisfied until moments like these when you’re greedily swirling your tongue around his finger.
- He never wastes time in hooking his thumb into your mouth, toying with making you and your tongue slave to find it. The slickness of your saliva and the sounds that follow are nothing short of immaculate, a perfect blend of neediness and yearning that leave him desperately smitten.
- The way you whimper, and the way your thighs grind together to ease the tension and aching in your clit drives him to the brink—the sounds unraveling him, each one igniting the flames of his own aches.
- He wants nothing more than to switch his fingers out for his cock— but unfortunately, he wouldn’t be able to hear you as well. His fingers are slim enough to let the noise pass over them, but his cock would be a different story.
- Vander is a gentle lover by nature, but— like any part of nature, he has his more unpredictable moments. His ‘natural disasters’ or sorts. Though—you wouldn’t necessarily call them ‘disasters’.
- Just as easily as it is for him to spend hours tenderly ramming his cock into you, during more ferocious, needy moments, he’ll waste no time in fucking you senseless. Despite it mainly happening every blue moon, he knew when you needed it like this, and he knew that you’d be willing to take it on the days he needed it like this.
- You both have happily accepted that he’s a man with a wild side to be nurtured every now and then. And you’re so good at nurturing it for him. When laying in bed, he’s started fucking you from behind, quickly losing his patience for tenderness. He’s sat upright against the headboard, and pulled you on top of him, all without ever disconnecting from you for even a moment.
- With your back pressed to his chest, he cups under your knees, almost folding you in half from the way he gripped and pulled them back- as he started slamming his hips at a merciless pace. The angle had you practically foaming at the mouth, considering—with his given strength—he uses minimal effort to bounce you up and down to meet the way he was snapping his hips up into you. The way your ass bounced on his legs is a sight that constantly makes his dick twitch when he thinks back to it.
- The screams you could never bother to try stifling almost kept him up at night sometimes. Too many times have the recollections made him overfill a pint or two behind the bar counter, earning questioning glances from bar patrons. He can’t always help the way his mind wanders when he has you to ravish every night.
- Vander often says things like:
“C’mon Angel— Look at me while you suck my cock dry. I wanna see those pretty little eyes of yours.”
“That’s it— Attagirl. Atta-fuckin’-girl.”
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Dom!Vander HC’s
- Will make you kneel on the ground, mouth wide open, pussy dripping, and leave you like that. He’d tell you that you weren’t allowed to swallow your spit. He’d then pull up a chair and sit in front of you, despicably far, and just watch you. He’d wait until your shirt became transparent from how much drool had fallen on it. Then—only then, would he speak.
- “Crawl…” he commands.
- You obey. You crawl to him, almost desperately quick, until you stop at his boots. He’d be tempted to make you grind on them, but he prefers his thighs for that.
- You crawl onto him, straddling one of his massive thighs.
- Just a few minutes into him making you grind yourself down on it, his blue jeans are just as soaked as your shirt.
- “Attagirl.” He’d coo as he’d start guiding your hips for you with his hands. It’s your fault if you think he’s going to let you cum anytime soon, though.
- When he halts all movement once you’re practically falling off the edge of your orgasm, he’d tut at you when you keep trying to desperately find the friction again.
- “Don’t you fight me.” He’d snap as you greedily tried to chase your orgasm, thrashing your hips around against his grip.
- He’d pull your hair and make you look at him, his other hand holding your jaw with contempt.
- Denial was his virtue. He won’t let you cum until you’re crying and begging for mercy.
- “Cry for me, Angel.” He’d command, needing to see the tears in your eyes while you begged for release.
- When you’d get too embarrassed to do so, he’d grip your face tighter.
- “Let. Me. Hear. You.” So you do. You let it out.
- And then—only then, will he slip his thick fingers in you.
- “Excellent. Such a good girl. Now. Get yourself off on daddy’s fingers, yeah?” He’d purr.
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flowersforbucky · 5 months ago
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it's nice to have a friend
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bucky barnes x reader
word count: 3.2k
summary: you're having the worst period you've had in a long time. bucky is determined to help you feel better.
author's note: this is a silly and smutty piece that i felt compelled to write when i got my period a few days ago!
warnings/tags: smutty, reader has a period, langauge, use of a vibrator, nipple stimulation, no use of y/n, use of a cbd gummy lol, 18+ only
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Approximately every twenty-eight days, you curse the fact that you were born with a uterus and vagina. 
This month, however, you were cursing that fact a bit earlier than expected. Cycle day twenty three, to be exact. 
Your periods never start this early, but as soon as you opened your eyes at six o'clock this morning, you knew what had occured while you were asleep. You could feel the moisture that soaked through your underwear and pajama pants before you could turn on the light to see that your white sheets had been dyed bright crimson beneath where you'd been laying. 
One load of laundry with extra stain remover and as much Pamprin max strength as one can safely take later, you are curled up on the couch of the compound's living room with a cup of coffee and a heating pad turned up so high that you risk first degree burns. 
“Are you sure you don't want me to stay with you today? We can go to Coney Island another time,” Natasha tries to reason with you once again. 
“I promise I'll be okay here,” you assure her. “These cramps are killing me, I won't be any fun to hang out with today. Go, enjoy yourself. When is the next time that you'll all have a free day and weather this perfect?” You gesture towards the sunshine streaming through the living room windows. 
“If you're sure,” she caves after a few moments of hesitation. “Promise I’ll win you that stuffed panda that you wanted so badly last time.” 
“I am going to hold you to that,” you tell her in a faux-serious tone. 
After Natasha and the rest of your friends have left for their day of riding rollercoasters and eating hotdogs on the boardwalk, you turn on your comfort show and settle in for an unexciting and uncomfortable day by yourself. 
A few hours later, you decide you've sat in the same position for long enough - you can practically feel your body morphing to the sofa. You're walking to the kitchen to refill your water bottle and find something to snack on when you collide with what feels like a brick wall. 
A brick wall that happens to smell really, really fucking good. 
You step back, finding that the brick wall is staring at you with a confused look on his face. 
"What are you doing here?” Bucky asks as he glances you over from head to toe, taking in your choice of apparel - baggy sweats that are about two sizes too big for you, a cropped tank, and fuzzy slippers. You resist the urge to cross your arms over your stomach - you didn't think anyone else would be here today and the tank top you're wearing doesn't exactly conceal the period bloat you're currently experiencing. 
"I live here,” you snap, a bit harsher than necessary. “What are you doing here?” 
“I also live here,” he says, returning your attitude. You roll your eyes, maneuvering your way around where he blocks the doorway. 
“What I mean,” he continues as he turns around, following you into the kitchen. “Is why aren't you with everyone at Coney Island?” 
“I could ask you the same question,” you challenge, pouring some more ice into your cup. “Steve never shuts up about the glory days, all the time the two of you spent at Coney Island. I'm surprised you're not there with him right now.” 
He huffs a laugh, pulling out one of the barstools at the kitchen's giant island and taking a seat. “We did spend a ridiculous amount of time at Coney Island,” he admits, his voice almost wistful. He hesitates before continuing, staring down at his hands as he traces a metal crevice on his left palm.
"But I haven't been to Coney Island since the forties. Guess I'm kinda scared it won't live up to my memories of it. Plus, I had a lot of laundry to catch up on, so..” he shrugs, trailing off. 
You're taken aback by the honesty of his explanation. “Yeah, well,” you start awkwardly, turning away from him to search through a cabinet for something to eat. “I can't say that I know what it was like in the forties, but it's one of my favorite places, present day.” 
“Then why are you hanging out by yourself while all of your friends are at one of your favorite places?” 
Damn it, you curse internally. He's really not going to drop this. What should I say, that my uterine lining is falling out in clumps? 
You grab a bag of freeze-dried fruit from the cabinet before turning back to face him, trying to come up with an excuse. 
“I just didn't sleep great–” you come to an abrupt stop in the middle of your sentence as a blinding pain shoots through your lower abdomen. The bag of fruit falls to the floor as you steady yourself on the ledge of the counter with one hand, clutching your stomach with the other. 
Bucky rises from his seat in an instant, closing the several feet of distance between the two of you in one big step. 
"Are you okay? What’s going on?” His hands are both extended to you in an offer of help. 
“I'm fine,” you say through a sharp intake of breath. “It’s.. it’s just cramps. Bad cramps,” you force the words out, propping your elbows up on the countertop to relax your body weight. 
“Oh,” he says as realization dawns on him. He bends down to grab the bag of fruit that lays next to your feet, and then places it on the table in front of you. “I guess that answers my question, then,” he adds, referring to why you didn't go to Coney Island. 
“Ya think?” You stand back upright, grabbing your snack and water bottle off of the counter. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a busy day of bed-rotting ahead of me.” 
“Some exercise would help,” he calls when you're about to exit the kitchen. “Laying in bed won't do much for you. A little bit of light exercise to release some beta-endorphins, maybe an abdominal massage–” 
“Are you really man-splaining menstrual cycle pain management to me right now?” You ask, slowly turning to face him with an incredulous look on your face. “I wasn't aware that you had a medical license or that I asked for your opinion.” 
“Just trying to help, sweetheart,” he shrugs with a mischievous grin. 
“If you want to help, you can go get the Italian food that I'm craving and give me an abdominal massage yourself,” you practically spit at him. “Otherwise, keep the unsolicited advice to yourself and fuck off.” 
You turn back around and all but run out of the room before you can process the shocked, albeit pleased look on his face.  
After you've closed your bedroom door behind you (with perhaps a bit more force than necessary), you sink into the fresh sheets on your bed and shove several pieces of apricot into your mouth. 
Rationally, you knew that Bucky's advice was solid, and that he was just trying to get a reaction out of you. That's just the kind of friendship that the two of you have. Sarcastic, teasing and occasionally… tension-filled. 
You definitely didn't help the matter by telling him to massage your abdomen, but what does he expect when he suggests something as horrible as exercising during a time that you simply want nothing more than to melt into your mattress? 
Your cell phone chimes from the pocket of your sweatpants. You dig it out and look at the text displayed across your lock screen. 
Bucky Barnes: What kind of Italian food, specifically? 
You would never admit it to him, but the corners of your mouth tug upwards into a smirk as you read his message. 
You type: Don't you have a lot of laundry to catch up on? and press send. The message is marked as “read” right away. 
He types. And types. And types some more – until those three dots indicating a message in progress disappear. 
Whatever. You click your phone off and toss it somewhere in the covers around you. 
The next couple hours are spent sitting under the near scalding stream of your shower, and then reading on your Kindle in the dark. As jealous as you are that your friends are undoubtedly having a blast today, you honestly don't mind your current situation - aside from feeling like your organs are being pulled out of your vagina, you hardly ever have days with zero obligations other than to just relax in whatever way you see fit. 
A strong knock on your door causes you to lose your place on the page. 
"You didn't give me a legitimate answer so I hope you like gnocchi, or eggplant parmesan, or traditional lasagna, or extra breadsticks..” 
“You know, it's not funny to joke about carbs to someone when they are–” 
You come to a stop in the middle of your sentence when you swing your door open to see him holding several plastic bags. An aroma of garlic and herbs hits you in the face. 
Oh. Not a joke, then. 
He extends one of the bags to you with his big, blue puppy dog eyes. You take it from him, opening the door further as an invitation to enter your bedroom. 
"Consider this a peace offering,” he says, placing the other bags of food on your bed and perching awkwardly on the edge of your mattress. You close the door behind you, walking back to where you had previously been lounging on the bed. 
“I'm sorry for being a smartass,” he adds more genuinely. “I just.. didn't like seeing you in pain. That's all.” 
“This is far from my first period,” you shrug, not meeting his stare. “You get used to it after a while. But consider yourself forgiven.” 
He gives you a small smile when you finally look up at him. He grabs a smaller bag that you hadn't noticed him carrying, one that is visibly less full than the others. He reaches inside, pulling out a small jar that he hands over to you. 
Your brows furrow as you inspect it closely. “CBD gummies?” You ask, your brows now raising quizzically. You open the jar, popping one of the pink, cube-shaped gummies into your mouth. “Watermelon flavored CBD gummies?” 
You notice the faintest trace of blush bloom across his cheeks. “I take them sometimes to help me sleep,” he starts, fiddling with some of the beading on your comforter. “But they can help with all different kinds of pain too, so I just thought you might like some.” 
You close the jar, placing it on your bedside table before reaching over and grabbing his flesh hand in yours. “Thank you, Bucky,” you say, giving his hand a squeeze and then releasing it. “Really. I appreciate all of this.” You try to ignore the jolt of electricity that buzzes through you when your skin comes in contact with his. His hand is both softer and warmer than you would have imagined. It brings you back to the last words that you spewed at him in the kitchen earlier. 
"A shit ton of pasta and CBD gummies,” you snort a laugh. “Would I be pushing my luck if I asked for that abdominal massage too?” You say it in a way that sounds halfway serious, halfway joking. 
“If that's what you want,” he says lowly, turning to angle his body towards you on the bed. “Then just say the word.” 
The air in your room suddenly feels suffocating. 
It is what you want - but you're at a loss for words. So instead of a verbal response, you scoot over to the middle of the bed, closer to where he sits on the opposite side. You lay down so that your back is flat against the mattress, your head propped up by a single pillow. 
Bucky's eyes widen in surprise, but he quickly wipes the look of astonishment from his features. He moves so that he's sitting directly next to your legs, giving him a proper angle to put his hands on your lower stomach. 
You're wearing the same sweatpants and tank top from earlier, having thrown the outfit back on after your shower. The loose sweatpants hang low enough to expose your hip bones and the edge of your underwear. 
The intimacy of the entire situation hits you the second that his hands make contact with your skin. 
“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he murmurs, perhaps sensing your nerves. “Or if I do anything that doesn't feel good.” 
Your eyes shut instinctively at the polar opposite sensations of his flesh and vibranium hands. Skin and metal, fire and ice.
“I will,” you assure him. Your words come out breathier than intended. 
There's an immediate relief in your lower stomach as he rubs languid circles across your midriff. It's a feeling beyond pleasure as the cramps fade the more he touches you. 
His vibranium pinky dances along the waistband of your underwear, causing goosebumps to spread across your skin. You try to focus on the relief he's bringing you - not the fact that you're wearing a thin tank top that leaves so much of your skin on display, giving him a clear view of the goosebumps that he's caused. 
He continues with the precise motions until the pain in your abdomen has faded nearly entirely - you feel so good that you can't stop yourself from letting out the smallest moan when his flesh hand applies just the right amount of pressure near your pelvis. 
You know he heard it - there's no way he didn't. Just as you know there's no way that he doesn't notice your fully hardened nipples through the thin fabric of your tank top. 
You keep your eyes closed, terrified to meet his gaze in this state. You dread the moment that you feel his hands pull away from your skin. 
"You know,” he starts, his voice possessing a strained edge. “I don't think this is good enough for you.” 
Your eyes shoot open, looking at him in a nervous confusion. There's a glimmer in his eyes that you can't quite pinpoint - his stare trailing to your bedside table on the opposite side of you. “But I think I do know what could make you feel much better.” 
“What are you talking about?” Your voice quivers as you follow his stare. You're not sure what he's looking at - all that sits on your nightstand is the CBD gummies he had just given you, your Kindle, a few books, a bottle of lotion, and the Himalayan salt lamp that paints you both in an orange glow. 
He smirks before leaning across you - keeping his vibranium hand pressed firmly on your belly as he uses his flesh hand to pull open the drawer of the small table. 
“Hey! What are you–” but he retrieves the object he’s looking for before you can finish questioning him. You freeze at what he's holding in his hand. 
Your vibrator. Your glittery, lavender colored vibrator. 
“How the fuck did you–” 
“Do you think I can't hear you using this from across the hallway late at night?” He grins smugly. “That I can't hear your little whimpers when you think everyone's asleep?” 
Your face heats up a hundred degrees. You don't know whether to be infuriated or massively turned on. 
Both. You're definitely feeling a mix of both. 
He clicks the power button, turning on the device to its lowest setting. He watches you for a moment, giving you ample time to tell him to fuck off.
Instead, you once again relax against the pillow, your body going limp for him. You spread your legs the slightest bit. 
He takes this as his signal to proceed. Not taking his eyes off of your face, he trails the head of the wand from your lower stomach and over the fabric of your sweatpants until he reaches the apex of your thighs. Your nipples pucker once again, your thighs clenching around the tip of the vibrator. 
Bucky moves the device in a circular motion, making your back arch off the bed and your head tip back. 
How is it that it feels better when he massages you with it through your fucking pants than it does when you use it on your bare pussy? 
You hear the clicking of a button again, and the force of the vibration over your clothed cunt increases. You grind down on the device, desperate for friction. 
Bucky watches you with something akin to pride on his face. 
“You know how I told you to tell me if I do something you don't like?” He asks as he pushes the head of the wand directly down on your clit with the perfect amount of pressure. 
“Yeah,” you answer - it comes out like a moan that you'd hear in a porno.
“Good girl,” he praises. “Remember that.” 
Before you can clear your head enough to wonder what he means, he's tugging up the cotton fabric of your tank top and exposing your breasts. 
You gasp at the sensation of the cool air blowing from the AC coming in contact with your already hard nipples. Bucky leans forward, keeping the vibrator on your core, and captures one of your nipples in his mouth. 
Your hand immediately goes to his hair, tugging the soft brown locks in your fingers to keep him in place. His free hand grasps your other breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers. 
The combination of pleasure radiating from your pussy and his hand and mouth on you is fucking perfect. Fucking perfect, and all too much. 
You clench your thighs together, riding against the vibrator until you feel warmth spreading through your lower belly. 
“Oh my god, Bucky,” you moan - he groans when you say his name, the vibration sending you tumbling over the edge. You come hard, possibly harder than any other orgasm you've had in your life, thoroughly soaking your panties. 
When you've finished writhing beneath him, Bucky pulls back, removing both his mouth and the vibrator. He clicks the device off, tossing it towards the foot of your bed. 
You're panting, staring up at the ceiling, trying to process what the fuck just happened when you hear Bucky let out a low chuckle. 
Your eyes snap to him, finding that he looks thoroughly pleased with himself. 
"Can't say that's how I expected the day to go when I decided to sit this Coney Island trip out,” he sighs. 
“You can say that again.” You sit upright, bending your legs and crossing them at the ankles. You lean forward, tugging your shirt back into place before pulling one of the bags of food to you. 
"We should go sometime soon. Together,” you add, somewhat nervously. You aren't sure why - the guy just gave you the best orgasm of your life (and barely even touched you). 
“Are you asking me on a date?” that sly smile reappears. 
You shrug. “Yeah, I suppose I am.” 
"Then my answer is yes. But only if you share some of this food with me.” 
♡♡♡♡♡
my masterlist
thanks so much for reading!!! can anyone tell that i really fucking love food by how often i incorporate it into my writing? 😅
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ilovemitsuya · 3 months ago
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Hiii!!! Can I request a ff where reader is sick and is trying to hide it from Sylus but he notices right away and insists he take care of her.
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sylus x reader
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The first signs were easy enough to ignore. A dull ache in my chest, a persistent weariness that clung to me no matter how much I rested. I told myself it was just stress, but as the days passed the symptoms grew worse. My strength began to wane, and the pain became harder to hide. I stared at my computer not noticing a hand on my shoulder.
“Are you okay? You’ve been staring at your screen for a while now.” I look over my shoulder to see Tara staring at me.
“I’m fine, just feeling under the weather.” I said as I looked away from her.
“I think you should take it easy. You’ve been overworking yourself a lot.” She thought for a moment, her finger resting on her chin. “I know! Me and the others are going to do karaoke you should join us.”
I thought about it for second. I could really use the time to go out but I couldn’t even speak, let alone sing. “I���m sorry can we do it next time?”
Tara put on a frown “Awh, next time you better go. Promise?”
I looked at her with a smile
“Promise.”
Besides, I’m meeting up with Sylus later on. Suddenly i remembered that he had a business trip he was talking about. He said I had to go but I can’t let him see me like this. Otherwise he would stay with me and not even go himself. It was an important trip I didn’t want to ruin it for him.
I knew Sylus would notice eventually.
He was too observant, too attuned to every detail of my life.
So I hid it. I avoided his gaze when I would have to excuse myself when the coughing fits became too intense. I thought I was being careful, and that I could keep this secret until I found a way to manage it on my own.
But I underestimated him.
╔══════╗
“You're late, sweetie." he said, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife. “If I had to wait any longer I would’ve sent Mephisto out looking for you.”
Sylus said leaning back on his motorcycle.
“Yeah, that won’t be necessary.”
Sylus gave me one last look before he threw a motorcycle helmet my way nearly dropping it.
He patted the seat behind him when he noticed I wasn’t moving.
I was way too tired to even move.
“Get on or I’m leaving without you.”
I snap out of my thoughts and quickly scram to sit behind him.
———-
At first it was subtle. A slight hesitation in her step, a flash of pain quickly masked by a practiced smile. Sylus watched her from the corner of his eye, his mind a whirlwind of calculations.
She was careful. Too careful. Avoiding his gaze when she thought he wasn't looking, suppressing coughs when she thought he wasn't listening. But Sylus knew. He always knew.
He sat in the chair by the window, the vastness of the space outside doing very little to calm his mind. His fingers tapped against the armrest, each tap a mark of his growing frustration. Something was wrong; he could feel it in his bones.
“Mephisto, keep a close eye on her.”
caw caw
She had been acting differently for days now. And while she thought she had done her best to hide it, Sylus was not one to be easily deceived.
╔══════╗
I knew he started watching me more closely. His eyes narrowing with that sharp, calculating look I knew so well. I could feel his suspicion growing, could sense the weight of his gaze on me even when I wasn't looking. But I kept up the act, clinging to the hope that I could keep him in the dark just a little longer.
Later that evening he barged in the room without warning, his presence filling the room with an intensity that made my heart skip a beat. I looked up, startled, meeting his eyes only to see the truth in them - he knew.
"You're sick," Sylus stated, his voice low and void of the warmth he had once reserved for me.
For a moment, I tried to deflect, to brush it off as nothing. "What? I’m perfectly fine.” I said trying to hold in my cough. Perfect timing.
But it was the way the energy shifted in the room. The way he loomed over me with a commanding presence, his expression unreadable made it clear there was no escaping this. "Don't lie to me." he hissed, and the force of his words sent a shiver down my spine.
"You're hiding something."
I shook my head, standing to meet him. But there was a hesitation in my movements, a reluctance I couldn't fully hide. "No, I haven't. I've just been... tired. There's nothing to worry about."
But Sylus was done with her evasions.
He grabbed her wrist, not roughly, but firmly enough to stop her from retreating.
"Don't lie to me, Sweetie." he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.
"Something's wrong. I can see it. You've been hiding it from me, and I want to know why."
I pulled my wrist from his grasp and took a step back, shaking my head. "It's nothing, Sylus. I'm fine.
You don't need to worry."
"Don't you dare try to shut me out," he growled, his tone sharper than he intended. "I know something is wrong, and I won't let you deny it."
Sylus thought she might continue to deny it. But then she crumbled, her shoulders slumping as she finally let her guard down.
"I've been feeling sick," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "It started a few days ago, and it's just been getting worse. I didn't want to tell you because I wanted you to let me go to that business trip with you.”
He shook his head, his hand reaching out to cup my cheek with a surprising gentleness.
“Is that what this is all about? You were hiding your sickness because you wanted me to let you go on the business trip?”
I leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand grounding me in a way I hadn't felt in days. "Yes, I’m sorry.”
His expression hardened again, but there was a softness in his eyes that made my heart ache. "Well, you’re right, you’re not going."
“But I—“
“I’m canceling the trip. I’m staying here with you until you feel better.”
He looked back at me, and for a brief moment, I saw something tender in his gaze, something that reminded me why I had fallen for him in the first place.
“I knew something was wrong. Mephisto snitched you out.”
That damn bird.
"Let's get you to bed," he said softly, his voice gentle but firm. "You need to rest."
He picked me up bridal style and held me in his arms.
"I'm fine, Sylus. I don't need to be treated like-"
He silenced her with a look, one that she couldn’t argue against. "You need to rest," he repeated, his tone leaving no room for discussion. "And I'm going to make sure you do."
Without waiting for her response, Sylus guided her toward the bed.
She hesitated for a moment, but the exhaustion was too much, and she allowed him to help her lie down.
Sylus moved with a surprising gentleness, adjusting the pillows and smoothing the blankets as he settled her in.
Once she was comfortable, he sat down beside she on the edge of the bed. His hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. His touch was soft, tender. A stark contrast to the man who ruled Onychinus with an iron fist.
"You've been pushing yourself too hard," he murmured, his eyes studying her face with an intensity that was almost protective.
"You need to let me take care of you. You’re like a sick kitten who needs to be monitored."
I looked up at him, my eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and vulnerability.
"I didn't want to worry you,"
Sylus's expression softened even further, his thumb gently tracing the outline of my cheek. "You worrying me by hiding things is worse," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "You don't have to do this alone. I'm here for you."
He leaned down, pressing his cheek to my forehead, lingering there for a moment as if he was attempting to strengthen me.
When he pulled back, my eyes were already starting to droop, the weight of the day finally catching up. But even as sleep began to claim me, I reached out, my hand finding his.
"Sylus," I murmured, voice drowsy. "Stay with me?"
"I'm not going anywhere,” he promised. His voice steady. He slipped under the blankets, his arms wrapping around me protectively. "I'll be right here when you wake up."
Sylus held her close, his fingers gently stroking her hair. He listened as her breathing slowly evened out, the tension in her body melting away as she drifted into sleep.
For a long time, Sylus simply watched her. His mind racing with plans for when she wakes up. As she slept, Sylus allowed himself to relax, the tight coil of worry in his chest loosening for the first time in days. He would take care of her, no matter what it took. Because she was worth protecting at all costs.
I’ll kiss anyone who requests
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fastandcarlos · 2 months ago
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Save The Day : ̗̀➛ Carlos Sainz
summary: your shopping trip couldn't have gotten much worse, until a stranger approaches and swoops in to save the day
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“Excuse me, is everything alright? You look in need of some help.” 
Your eyes flickered up at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, noticing a man stood just beside you. You were walking all over the place as you tried to push your daughter’s pram, balancing your shopping bags in both of your hands, barely able to walk in a straight line as things stopped to drop out onto the floor. 
You smiled shyly across at the man as he picked the bits that you had dropped off of the floor. Once he’d put them in a bag he took the bags from both of your hands, walking by your side. Walking immediately felt easier as you focused on pushing the pram out of the store and over to where your car was parked. 
The man carried your bags with ease, the strength easily defined in his arms as he walked at your pace. You didn’t quite know where to look as you walked, feeling his eyes watching over you. 
“Where’s your car?” He asked you, watching you point to your small car that was hidden by a much fancier looking vehicle, a car far too expensive for the area where you lived. 
There was a shade of embarrassment in your cheeks as you walked, feeling slightly humiliated that you weren’t able to carry your bags. Trying to balance all the weight was hard, but you were stubborn, and liked to think that you could take on the world all by yourself. 
“I’m just here,” you told him, reaching into your bag for your keys. 
You opened up the boot, going to take the bags, only for the man to swerve you. “Allow me,” he grinned, easily lifting the bags and placing them in the back of your car. 
You stepped back as he did so, watching as he carefully let go of them. “Thank you, you didn’t have to do that for me, most people just walk straight on by.” 
“Well, I’m not most people,” he told you, a wide smile on his face. “Most people are assholes, it’s human nature to help someone when you see them struggling, or in my eyes at least.” 
You offered him a grin as you unbuckled your daughter’s pram to start getting her into the car. “Saying thank you doesn’t really feel like enough, there’s got to be something that I can do for you.” 
His head shook, taking a step back and watching as you took your daughter into your arms, hearing her let go of a squirm. You hated taking her out when she was asleep, but at this point you couldn’t wait to get home and forget about your struggle. 
“She’s beautiful,” the man whispered behind you, leaning across and tickling against her tummy, bringing a smile to her face again. “I bet your mummy and daddy feel like they won the lottery with you,” he added, only to watch your smile drop, eyes landing on the ground.��
“I-it’s just me,” you stuttered, immediately hearing the man mumble several apologies beside you. “Don’t be sorry, I’m used to it by now. Most of the time I’m alright, the two of us make quite the team,” you smiled, not wanting him to feel bad for you. 
It didn’t stop the man feeling guilty for making his assumptions, sensing that you found things harder than you were letting on to him. 
As the two of you fell silent, your daughter soon began to get quite unsettled in your hold. You quickly tried to settle her, bouncing her in your arms, but as a gust of wind blew through the car park, your eyes soon darted onto the sight of her pram beginning to blow away from you. 
“I got it!” The man shouted, running down the car park and quickly grabbing onto it. 
“You really are saving the day for me today, aren’t you?” You smiled. 
He looked around and found the brakes of the pram, quickly putting them on. Before you knew it, he had managed to collapse it down, placing it into the back of your car too, making sure not to squash any of your shopping. 
“You must have had some practice doing that before.” 
“No,” he smiled back across at you, “but I assumed it can’t be too hard to figure out. I’ve not really got any experiences with babies, although I’d like to,” he carried on, surprising himself that he suddenly decided to confess such a thing to someone that he barely knew. 
You didn’t quite know what to say as he spoke, offering him a sympathetic smile. You weren’t expecting him to be so open with you, leaving you a little loss for words. You almost felt bad for standing in front of him with your daughter in your arms, as if you were showing off that you had something that he seemed to want.  
“Does your partner not want children?” 
His eyes widened at your question, unaware that you had dropped yourself in it almost as much as he had done with you only a few moments earlier, feeling bad when his head shook at you. 
“I don’t have a partner,” he told you, scratching nervously over the top of his head. “I’m going through life on my own currently, that’s why I have so much time to help other people when they’re in a mess.” 
“Well, you definitely saved me from one today.” 
He was glad to have been able to help you out, but now he found himself unable to take his eyes off of your daughter. There was something about him that seemed to be drawing her to him too, her eyes watching him closely every time he moved or spoke. 
“I didn’t even get the chance to introduce myself, I’m Carlos by the way.” 
“I’m Y/N,” you smiled back across at him. 
“And who’s your little one?” He asked, poking your daughter’s tummy again. 
A giggle came from her that left you both grinning. “This is Luna,” you told him, “although I think you might be able to call her your biggest fan judging from the smile on her face.” 
“Well, I like to keep my fans happy, so do you think Luna would like to hang out again sometime?” Carlos offered, “I mean, only if that’s something that her mummy would like to do too.” 
“I think she would,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, “and I don’t think her mummy would mind either if she got the chance to see you again, maybe coffee sometime?” 
Carlos nodded in reply to your offer. “I’d love to grab a coffee with you, well, the both of you. How about I give you my number and you can let me know a time that works best for the two of you?” 
“Yeah, that would be good,” you told him, walking across to place your daughter into her car seat so that you could take Carlos’ phone from him. 
His smile was wide as he passed it across, “make sure you text yourself from my phone so you have my number too. You can save my number as the guy who saved the day.” 
“You’re a bit of a hero, aren’t you?” You smiled. 
“Well, I certainly try my best.” 
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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yournightmary · 2 months ago
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SFW&NSFW Vi HCs
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content warning:: it’s kinda a mix of modern!AU and not idk, fem!reader, smut obviously
AN:: I love muscle mommies
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⇢ ˗ˏˋ She might look and act tough but don’t let her fool you. She’s such a silly goober. Okay, at first she might a little cold and distant and take a lot to warm up, but once she does she’s a sweetheart.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ I think there might be a ‘you fell first but she fell harder’ situation. She isn’t really that into dating or looking for the love of her life, so when you first met she didn’t even think about getting with you.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ HATES when people help her. If someone does, she’s convinced that she owes them something.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ But she really likes to help other people. She likes to be the one that people owe something… and she just feels really stupid when she doesn’t help someone she totally could. (as people should)
⇢ ˗ˏˋ Very self-conscious about her hands. Mostly about the scars and bruises that are on her knuckles, that’s why she wraps them up or covers them with chunky rings.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ Hates fancy clothes. Doesn’t remember the last time she wore a normal bra.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ This girl doesn’t have any manners!! That’s the downside of growing up mostly around men. And the Lanes.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ Her favorite way to spend free time (besides working out) is watching stupid reality tv. You know, the shows that you can just put on in the background and turn off your brain.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ I’m taking this from the trailer- if she’s having a really shitty day she’ll take it out on a punching bag, but sometimes that makes her feel even worse so she ends up hugging it instead.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ She’s really touch starved but she doesn’t know how to ask for affection. She’ll just silently sneak up on you and hug you from behind or spoon you once you’re already asleep.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ You might think she doesn’t know how to do makeup but she does the best smokey eyes in the world!!! Also has the prettiest natural lashes you have ever seen.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ Loves to just lay down and relax. After being on edge her whole life the short moment she can chill with you before sleeping is like literal heaven.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ She could cry every time she gets a gift. Even if it’s something small or something that won’t last- like food or flowers- it just makes her eyes water.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ Her favorite thing to lay down on is your lap. She’s such a thigh girl omg. I mean, she loves every single part of your body, but thighs… oh man.
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⇢ ˗ˏˋ Lord have mercy, she’s obsessed with them. Her hand is big enough to grab almost your whole thigh. She loves to kiss them, bite them, grope them- anything and everything.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ Her favorite thing to do is using her fingers on you but god fucking damn it- it takes her so long to start. She has to unwrap her bandages, take off all of her rings, wash her hands. That’s like at least 5 minutes.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ She genuinely likes the taste of pussy. Maybe it’s because she spent half of her life in prison eating slop, but she’d eat you out over any food.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ I believe in happy trails on girls supremacy. So hot :3
⇢ ˗ˏˋ She not only has insane strength, her stamina is the same. She’ll go at it the whole day and night.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ I can’t decide whether she’d hook up with people often or be an inexperienced virgin. Because on one hand if she wants to get laid, she’ll get laid but on the other- maybe she thinks it’s too intimate to do with some random person?? idk
⇢ ˗ˏˋ Loves to finger you in front of a mirror (she just wants to see her own muscles)
⇢ ˗ˏˋ Riding her abs or toned thighs… somebody help me.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ Honestly, I don’t think she likes to receive that much. I mean- obviously she likes it, but she’d just rather give.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ She’s so embarrassed by her own moans omg. She loves to hear them from you, but when it comes to herself? No way. Maybe a groan or two, but nothing more.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ She would never hurt you during sex. It’s such a major turn off for her. She saw and caused too much violence in her life to find it arousing.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ Apologies to my scissor sisters, but she will strap you down. Especially from behind- she just loves your ass too much.
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my obsession came back
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really-fanny-longbottom · 7 months ago
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only in my dreams
summary: love has two sides. it can be pure, beautiful, and exciting, but it can also be lonely, painful, and the worst of all — unrequited.
warnings: mentions of heartbreak, unrequited love, alcohol, death and a curse word.
pairings: azriel x reader
words: 3.4k
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you should have stayed at home.
you knew you shouldn't have come.  
you knew it was a bad idea from the moment you walked through the threshold of the balcony of the house of wind.
it was sad to know that this house used to be your safe haven — a place where you were happy and felt safe, where you could be yourself. 
but now it makes you want to leave as quickly as possible and never come back.
because that was the only solution to not having to see the scene that was unfolding in front of your eyes. 
your eyes — the same ones that used to contain love and happiness, were now sad and empty.
the same ones who used to shine with excitement every time you entered a room looked now absent — as if something had sucked away their vitality and left nothing behind.
even your kind and warm smiles had started to appear less frequently until they disappeared completely.
that's how you looked now — no sparkles in your eyes and no smile on your face as you moved the food on your plate with a fork from side to side.
you stopped listening to the conversation a long time ago. 
it was another dinner night with the inner circle at the house of wind. you were sitting between rhys, who was at the head of the table on your right side, and nesta on your left side.
you were trying everything to keep your eyes on your plate so you didn't have to watch elain being courted by azriel — the owner of your heart and the reason it was breaking little more day by day.
he wasn't to blame and you didn't blame him for his feelings towards the middle archeron sister, afterall, no one has the power to choose who they like or love — but it didn't make it any less painful.
pain — you were feeling it a lot now.  
every time elain laughed at something azriel whispered to her made it hurt even more.  
your power wasn't helping you at all right now.  
Being an empath had its advantages — it allowed you to feel and understand the emotions and feelings of others and increase and decrease their intensity. it also allowed you to know when someone is lying or telling the truth and to control and manipulate them, despite not using the last two (unless it was necessary) because you believe it to be incorrect.
but the thing most people didn't know about being an empath is that it affects your emotions and feelings, too.
it makes you feel everything more intensely — meaning that you felt everything ten times more than everyone else.
a good joke that made others laugh until their stomachs hurt — made you cry with laughter. 
simple things that made others happy — made you jump with joy.
and when others felt passion — you felt love. 
you loved with more strength and intensity than everyone, but you also suffered in the same way.
and when you suffer, it's like your light has been turned off.
a hand on your knee took you out of your thoughts — nesta.  
she was the only reason you were here — literally, she dragged you from the library when you told her you wouldn't be joining them for dinner.
the older archeron sister had become one of your favorite people. 
nesta was the one who had the most difficult time in adjusting and accepting this new life, so instead of ignoring her as some did, you decided to be the first to extend your hand to her.
it all started with your mutual interest in books. it started with book recommendations, then exchanges and finally reading them together.
by the time you noticed, you were training together, sharing meals, and adventuring in the city.
your friendship was not easy — nesta made sure of that.  
at first, she tried to push you away with cold stares and nasty comments, but you knew better than anyone that it was nothing but a defense mechanism.
you knew that when she said she was better off alone, she really just wanted someone to hug her.
so, knowing better than anyone, you fought for her.  
you ignored the cold stares and faced her nasty comments, and when she tried to push you away, you stood your ground and didn't let her.  
little by little, she let you in, and you got to know her — the real nesta.  
over time, the staring stopped, the comments disappeared, and instead of trying to push you away, she started looking for your company.
your friendship turned into a sisterhood, and now, Nesta would fight for you just as much as you fought for her. 
your sisterhood grew, and short after that, you were welcoming emerie and gwyn — your girls.
quickly, a friendship was formed between the four of you, and there was no one you trusted more than each other.  
they told everything about themselves, their past, their fears, and even their secrets.
so, you did the same — except your feelings for the shadowsinger, nesta was the only one who knew about that.
you joined the inner circle one hundred and fifty years ago when you moved to velaris to live with your great-aunt madja.
despite being an empath, you also inherited a natural talent for healing just like your aunt.
that's how you met rhysand and his family.
there was an enemy attack in windhaven with several fatalities and many injured illyrians, which required all the healers who worked at the clinic, including you and madja, to be winnowed there by morrigan.
as soon as you arrived, it was total chaos. the soldiers who were not injured, and even some who were, did not stop running from one side to the other, nor did they stop shouting or grabbing weapons and demanding to go after those who fled making it impossible for the healers to help. 
the enemy had already been defeated before your arrival, so you were not in danger and for that reason, you did not hesitate to use your powers.
you made your way so you could stand right in the middle of the soldiers. 
you raised your arms to the sides and closed your eyes, and with a little bit of focus you let the soldiers' emotions start to invade you from head to toe.
then with a long sigh, you took control of their emotions and released your power.
the soldiers immediately stopped in their places and went limp before starting to fall to the ground unconscious.
you put them to sleep.
it was the only safe way for the healers to be able to do their work even though you didn't like having this kind of control over someone.
the only ones who were not affected were the high lord, his brothers, and his cousin.
their eyes were fixed on you, who remained standing among the sleeping soldiers.
and when they turned to you for an explanation of what had just happened, they were even more shocked when you revealed to them what you were and what you had just done.
they had never met anyone with that kind of power, and so they were having a little trouble getting their faces back to an expression of neutrality.
impressed wasn't enough to describe how they were feeling at that very moment.
qs a thanks, rhysand offered you a position in his inner circle. after some hesitation and several lectures from madja about how it would be a bad idea (and lack of education) to refuse such an offer, you accepted.
moving to the house of wind, you established friendships with all the members, but azriel was the one you became closest to.  
you became best friends over time, and before you could stop your heart, you fell in love with him.  
even when he was already in love with mor.
despite knowing about his affections towards the blonde female, it hadn't hurt as much as it does now because azriel had never acted on his feelings for her.
but you decided to wait. you believed that one day the mother would smile upon you, and she would grant you the wish you carried in your heart every day.
therefore, during that time, you were content to love him from afar — and in the shadows.
you thought that day had finally arrived after noticing the change in azriel's behavior towards mor after the arrival of the archeron sisters.  
you couldn't be more wrong.
you couldn't help but find this whole situation ironic. after decades of seeing azriel in love with mor and hoping that one day he would notice you, he was now courting elain.
the archeron sisters came into your life and turned everything upside down. you were grateful that feyre and nesta's path led them to you, but you couldn't feel the same way about elain.
before you could wander in your thoughts even more, nesta squeezed your knee, getting your attention again. 
you looked at your best friend and noticed the worry on her face, so putting your hand on top of hers, you murmured to her a small "i'm okay" and gave her a small smile. 
"are you sure?" she murmured too, so no else could hear it. 
you nodded your head at her and returned your attention to your plate.
rhys' voice made you look up, and you regretted it immediately because in that exact moment, you saw azriel and elain's hands intertwined on the top of the table.
you shook your head and looked at your high lord — who had become a very good friend of yours.
"are our plans at rita's still on for tomorrow night?" rhys asked. 
everyone — but you — said their agreements before azriel spoke, "actually, elain and i have plans for tomorrow night." 
your breathing got caught on your throat, and nesta's hand flew immediately to yours, grabbing it gently.
it was Feyre who asked, "where are you going?" you could've sworn there was a hint of surprise in her voice.
"to the new restaurant that just opened by the rainbow. it's supposed to be very good," elain's eyes moved from her younger sister to the male sitting next to her, "so we decided to try it." 
cassian cleared his throat, and he looked in your direction before looking at the people in front of him. "it's that a date? are you going on a date?"
azriel chuckled and squeezed elain's hand. "i guess we can call it that." 
you stood up abruptly, attracting everyone's eyes, "sorry. i just remembered that madja needs my assistance to visit a patient tomorrow, and i forgot to prepare the medical bag." 
you excused yourself before leaving the dining room and making your way towards the stairs. 
you heard cassian and nesta calling your name, but you didn't bother to turn as you started to descend the ten thousand steps.
through your power, you were able to realize that no one — with the exception of your best friend and her mate — noticed your lie. 
Just as they didn't notice the tears that filled your eyes as soon as you turned your back on them and left the room.
••• 
you went to your aunt's house.  
the last thing madja expected to find at her door at that time of night was her niece with red eyes and tears running freely down her cheeks.
she barely let you walk in before she wrapped your figure into a tight embrace. 
she had noticed the change in your mood recently but decided not to comment because she knew very well that as soon as you were ready to talk, you would tell her everything.
and that's what you did.
you told her everything as you both rested on her pink couch with your head in her lap while she caressed your hair, listening to your words attentively.
you ended up falling asleep with your cheeks stained from the tears, and madja didn't dare to move. she refused to awake you from your peaceful slumber.
she bent down to kiss your head, and when she raised again, she saw a piece of parchment on the top of the table next to the couch, reaching for it.
it was rhysand asking where you were. 
madja answered for you, saying that you were with her and spending the night at her house. 
it didn't take long until your aunt joined you into your slumber.
•••
the following night, you made your way towards the House after a hard day at the clinic. 
the day got worse when the patient you went to see at his residence didn't make it.
sometimes, you hate your job, especially because of your powers. when things got too much for you to handle, you had to put a shield around you to prevent you from feeling your patients worries or pains.
the patient you visited was heavily sick. it was too late to do anything medical, so you did the only thing you could.
you used your powers. let his emotions invade you, and then, with a long sigh, you took away his pain and transferred it to you.
that was the only thing you could do for him at that moment, and you are more than relieved that you were able to provide him comfort while he left this world, making his passing easier for him and his family.
you climbed the ten thousand steps, but it didn't even bother you. you were too busy thinking about your patient and whether his family would be okay.
you made a mental note to visit them the next day and help where you could.
you pushed these thoughts away as you opened the door and entered the House.
all you needed right now was to be with your friends and forget about this awful day.
when you walked into the living room, you remembered that everyone went to rita's.
well, everyone, but you, azriel, and elain. the two of them were on their date tonight. 
and like a snap of a finger, all your emotions and feelings from the last few months and days came flooding back.  
your eyes fell on rhys's expensive drinks cart.  
you wiped your tears and everything you felt turned into anger.  
"fuck it."
you went to the cart, grabbed the first bottle that was in your reach, removed the cork and drank, sinking the drink down your throat and your sorrows with it.
•••
three hours later, cassian, nesta, rhys and feyre finally arrived at the house.
amren had departed to her apartment after they left rita's and mor stayed behind saying that her night wasn't over yet.
the two couples had come talking about you on the way. they had waited for you but when you didn't show up, they assumed you were with madja or still at the clinic.
rhys had sent a letter to madja a few minutes ago asking for you and when your aunt said she was looking for you too, they left hoping to find you here.
they just didn't expect the state they were going to find you.
as soon as they passed the threshold of the balcony and into the living room, they saw you.
you were laying on the couch with your legs off of it, an empty bottle was in your hand, and another on the floor by your feet.
"oh my god," the high lady whispered.
cassian moved and kneeled next to you by the couch. his hand made its way to your arm and tried to awake you.
"y/n." he shook you lightly.
after a few seconds, you opened your eyes and were faced with the General looking at you.
"cass," you said with your voice dragging, "you're here." you moved to sit and wrapped him into a hug, one that he didn't hesitate to reciprocate.
"are you alright, sweetheart?" he asked you while caressing your back.
"i am now that you're all here," you released a breath. "my dear friends", you looked at your other three friends who were looking at you with concern. "you're so beautiful. all of you. did you know that?" you giggled.
it was rare for you to drink and when you did, you never got drunk.
nesta sat down next to you and put an arm around your shoulders. you took the opportunity to rest your head on her shoulder, finding comfort in your friend's embrace.
"what happened, y/n?" she asked you.
you started laughing before replying with irony in your voice "what didn't happen?" 
you pushed away from her and stood so you could face all your friends "my patient died. the male I've been in love with for decades won't even look at me and this house that used to be my safe haven, it's now the stage of my pain."
"oh! not to mention that elain is mated but does she care? no! does azriel care? of course not. i've been in love with him for decades. decades! and he doesn't even look at me." you started laughing, "by the cauldron, u'm pathetic."
your family didn't seem surprised by your revelation.
cassian pulled you into a tight hug and rhys and nesta moved to do the same.
if it weren't for this situation everyone would've thought that the world was about to end from seeing rhys and nesta hugging each other.
morrigan arrived in the moment you were in the middle of your friends with tears in your eyes.
"what's going on?" mor whispered to feyre who was still in the same spot since she arrived.
feyre explained everything and by the moment she finished, both females had tears in her eyes at the sight of her friend being hurt.
"what's wrong with me?" you asked them, your voice breaking.
"nothing is wrong with you. nothing." that wasn't your friend speaking — it was your high lord.
feyre and morrigan joined the hug in the moment you said, "i'm never going to be good enough for him. i'll never be her." 
tears rolled down feyre and mor faces, and both females were asking the same question in their minds "how long has she been feeling like this?"
your high lady spoke this time, "y/n, what can we do? what do you need?"
you hugged cassian tighter before locking eyes with nesta "i just need my girls."
nesta nodded her head at you and looked at the blonde female "can you take us?" 
mor didn't hesitate in agreeing. 
anything to make you feel better.
•••
two hours later, you were in the middle of the bed with nesta and gwyn on one side and emerie on the other, all of them with their arms around you.
the three of them had fallen asleep a few minutes ago after one hour of you telling them everything about azriel and a lot of cups of tea and tissues.
you thought they would've been mad at you but they didn't. 
they reassured you several times that it was okay and that you could take all the time in the world until you were ready after you tried to apologize too many times.
now you were staring at the ceiling thinking about your options.
you couldn't live like this anymore, knowing that azriel would never love you back. 
so you were going to do the only thing you could in order to protect what was left of your heart.
there was something about your powers that no one knew. something that you never had shared.
you had a switch.  
one that you could turn on and off whenever and wherever you wanted.  
in the same way that you could feel everything, you could also feel nothing.
the only problem? everything that made you, you, would disappear.
but it was also your solution to your situation.
you closed your eyes and gave a deep breath.
you focused on your breathing for a minute and then. . .
no more emotions.
no more feelings.
no more love.
no more sadness.
no more pain.
no more tears.
you turned it off.
when you opened your eyes again, you were numb.
you didn't feel a single thing. 
good.
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a/n: thank you for reading!
[masterlist]
general taglist: @emryb @fantasyandshit @azrielover @shadowsingercassia @brieflyclassymortal @lilah-asteria @lure-of-writing @pruvii @olive-main @mybestfriendmademe @anuttellaa
the beautiful dividers belong to @cafekitsune
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ros3ybabes · 8 months ago
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🎀 Workout Youtubers
I currently do exclusively pilates and yoga workouts from youtube. However, I've done other body weight workouts with various youtube videos and seen results in the past. Here is my list of workout youtubers that you could check out! I will put a * next to my personal favorites! I will include a short list of my current at home workout equipment at the end as well as some items I plan on buying soon!
With any workout program or routine, always be safe, check with your doctor if necessary, and if something doesn't feel good or right, don't do it! No matter what your goals are, it's always important to be safe and stay healthy. Please always take care of yourselves and know how beautiful, worthy and valuable you are no matter what! I love you all <333
🩷 Pilates
Move with Nicole * (also posts occasionally barre and yoga videos as well! I love her videos so so much)
Madeleine Abeid
IsaWelly
Pilatesbodyraven
Lidia Mera
Lottie Murphy
Amanda Blauer
Margaret Elizabeth
Jessica Valant Pilates
Bailey Brown
Dansique Fitness
Flow with Mira
Sivi (she's began posting some pilates inspired workouts and to my knowledge is currently getting certified as an instructor)
🩷 Yoga
Yoga with Adriene *
Yoga with Bird
Boho Beuatiful Yoga
🩷 Bodyweight Fitness/Strength/HIIT
Chloe Ting * (I don't like the click bait, but I like the workouts)
Blogilates
Pamela Reif *
Madfit *
Lilly Sabri * (Some of her videos are titled with pilates, but the older ones I used to do were not pilates, so I categorized her here)
Emi Wong
Shirlyn Kim
Vivian Yuan
April Han
growingannanas
growwithjo * (I love her walking workouts)
Hinafit
Mish Choi
Sami Clarke
Elenifit
Coach Kel (she posts what looks like more barre, ballet, pilates inspored/fusion workouts it seems)
Caroline Girvan
TRAIN WITH GAINSBYBRAINS
Daisy Keech
🎀 Current At Home Workout Equipment I Own
Thick Yoga Mat - since I do mainly yoga and pilates my thick yoga may (amazon brand) has served me well. Even tho I am a heavier woman at the moment, I've never had pain or any issues with this mat, and it came with a carry strap which I love! A good, thick workout mat is definitely necessary for working out at home for comfort, safety, etc. Make sure to disinfect it on occasion, especially if you sweat on it a lot!
Resistance Bands - I have about 3 or 4 at different resistance strengths, and they're incredibly useful for a variety of movements, especially lower body ones. They add some extra resistance and make the workouts a bit more challenging when you need something more advanced. I also got mine from Amazon/Walmart a while back. I prefer fabric over rubber because I like to wear workout shorts instead of workout leggings.
Pilates Ball - not a necessity, but useful with some pilates workouts and movements. I have seen sole videos using this, but am not advanced enough to try it on my own yet. Will use for sure once I'm more advanced.
3lb dumbbells - I thought these would be useful for the pilates workouts that had some upper body focus, and as someone who wants to develop a lean and toned upper body, they are perfect for low weight high rep, controlled movements. Again, not advanced enough to use as I want to master my form, but they're gonna come in handy for sure!
Foam Roller - so so good for stretching and muscle recovery on rest days. I love mine but want one that has the bump things on it to help my muscles more. I can imagine how good it'll feel on my legs during a recovery day when I begin wieght lifting again.
Massage Gun - my holy grail for the days I am sore and needing some recovery. my body feels like jelly after using this, and it's just so nice for the days my muscles feel extra tight and super sore.
🎀 Equipment I Want To Buy
Yoga Blocks - these will help me get deeper into the yoga poses once I get more advanced in my practice
Pilates Ring - this honestly looks so fun and challenging to use, I'd love to add it to my collection of useful workout equipment!
Jump Rope - I used to love this as a form of cardio and as long as I don't move into an upstairs apartment, I'm definitely buying one
Pilates Bar - still iffy on this one, it's supposed to mimic a reformer but I want to get better at mat pilates and see if I even end up ever needing or seriously wanting to buy it, its on my list tho
Ankle/Wrist weights - these are gonna be so useful for workouts where hand held dumbbells aren't useful. Want to buy some low weight ones just to help with resistance and extra strength during pilates workouts
Kettlebell weight - I think this would be useful for a workout at home type situation if and when I switch to not doing just pilates and yoga. I know these are useful in their own right, but not needed in my current fitness stage of life.
Core Sliders - these look fun and interesting. They're on my lost for sure, but not sure about the practicality of their use in my life just yet.
That's all that's currently on my at home workout equipment list! As someone who primarily works out at home, the things I currently own are most useful and most of what's on this list is for fun or extra challenge. Just not necessary yet.
hope you enjoyed this list! if you have any questions about my favorite youtuber workout instructors or favorite videos, please feel free to ask, I've tried so many and can give some guidance from my own experience and research.
til next time lovelies 🩷
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pearlymel · 5 months ago
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"The Masks We Wear"
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Summary: as a journalist, you are itching to find the identity of this mysterious hero. But could it be that the hero is closer to you than you think?
Wc: 7.3k eat up
Warnings: Wriothesley x afab!reader, gn! reader, modern au, hero and villian au (one of each), reader is a journalist/cameraman, fluff, making out, crack (i laughed a lot writing this), angst (oops), one small sex scene, slightly under the influence, cursing, it's pretty unrealistic, petnames used: sunshine, love, and sweetheart.
Notes: i poured my heart and soul into this, i think it's my best piece so far ^^ give it a chance, maybe you'll love it. (Pleasepleasepleaseplease) Rbs are greatly appreciated!
Credits: banner art by the great @/danijaci
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Click!
The city is absolutely beautiful today. No, no. It’s not because of the lights that makes the place brighter and a bit more magical, how it seems livelier with a group of teenagers laughing together while buying street foods together, or the old couple that seem still very much in love, the gentleman kneeling down and tying her shoes just to make sure she wouldn’t trip this time.
Humans can be cute, you think.
But of course, among those innocent ‘humans’ are those who desire destruction.
This time, you think you might have caught something in the shadows, and you stare intently at your camera, zooming it in to see the faintest color blending in with the darkness. Hair? A part of clothes? You don’t know, but you got it.
you have this obsession of finding out who the hero of this city was, or even the villian. Although, you would be technically be walking into death if you try finding out who the villian is.
Where did this hero come from? No one knows. Sure the crime rate has lowered, but it felt like the world became even more messed up.
It all started a couple of years ago when you were in your college days, one day almost dying from a falling building, and you thought you saw the scythe waiting to take your soul at that very moment but, no.
The mysterious hero of the city that you never thought you would never encounter carried the building with his super strength power, apparently.
He who has no name, took your hand and lead you into a safer area with the police.
cliché story, right. But that’s what got you into journalism and media now.
And let’s say… you’re too far into the deep black hole to back down now.
The almost blinding light made you come back to your senses, the sounds of engine roaring in the air as the bike approached you, and your shoulders were already slumped.
“How did you find me?” You raise your voice due to the loud engine running, covering parts of your vision from the light.
“Lucky guess.” Wriothesley replied gruffly, pulling his helmet off and shaking his head slightly to fix up his messy strands.
“Care to explain what on earth are you doing here in this shady alleyway? At nine thirty where the moon is out and wolves could be coming for you?” He starts scolding you, quirking an eyebrow when you give him the bored expression, and he immediately mimics it back.
“Taking pictures.”
“Of the rats?”
“Wriothesley.” You shoot him a look and he raises his hands in the air. “I understand your… obsession. But it could hurt you in the process, mentally and physically.”
You know he’s saying all this because he cares so much about you. Loves you too much that it would break his soul piece by piece if one day what you’re doing will hurt you.
“Hop in, sweetheart.” He hands you the extra helmet, and you take it with a sigh. Securing it around your head before taking your place behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist as he revved the engine.
The whole ride back was silent, yet traffic, which entirely ruined the whole mood. With the constant car horns ringing in your ear.
You tap at his thigh to grab his attention, “Why’s it traffic?” You grumble, rising yourself from the seat to look at the row of cars trying to get through.
“Not any holidays or events i can think of,” he responds back to you.
Red mixed with orange fills your vision, suddenly the car at the very front explodes. The car parts flying in the air and landing at the other vehicles which makes you frozen in shock.
Wriothesley’s clenches his hands tightly as he turns the bike around, speeding his way far away from the scene. “Hold onto me tight, and don’t look back, you hear?” He yells enough to grab your attention, and your arms tightens around him, but you have your head turned around to see the people yelling and dashing out of the vehicles. You want to capture the moment with your phone so you could submit it in for the news, but you know more than to ignore Wriothesley right now.
It’s not rare to see destruction happen in your city, it’s just… terrifying every time anybody witnesses it.
Maybe it wasn’t an accident, maybe it was planned.
“You’re not allowed to go out after seven.” Wriothesley makes it clear to you with his firm tone as you both step inside your shared apartment, locking the apartment with a click. He then tosses his keys into a bowl on a small table, before turning to look at you.
“Are you seriously setting a curfew for me? Please. what happened was not new—”
Your face is now being cradled by his rough hands, but the way he swipes a thumb under your eyebags really makes you melt. And you forget what you were going to say when his lips curl the slightest.
“I don't want anything happening to you. Ever.” He takes you in his arms, holding you like you were the most precious thing he ever held. “I didn't mean to pressure you like that. I'd hate it if you were in the position of those injured people.”
You pat his back to reassure him that hopefully nothing like that will happen. “And, if, hypothetically, something like that happened; What would y—”
“I'll kill everyone.” he doesn't even let you continue before he answers, though the chuckle against your hair followed after makes your tense shoulders relax.
“maybe not to that extent,” he lifts your head up to lean in and press a tender kiss on your forehead.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
“what is it?”
“… something or someone.”
Your boss gives you a nonchalant sharp look when you eagerly showed him the bits you managed to capture last night before you were interrupted by your great boyfriend.
His eyes squints at the more of a blurred photo that sits on the display of your camera, taking the glasses that hanged from his collar.
The sigh afterwards makes you feel discouraged when he hands you back your camera.
“i see it.” He starts and you perk up immediately.
“it looks like a blurred image of a fucking bird taking a shit on the electrical cords.” You press your lips into a thin line at his description. Too detailed of a description,
what a bastard.
It.. certainly didn't look like that.
You clear your throat, pinching the bridge of your nose to compose yourself.
“You're lucky i like your determination or you would've been fired,” he utters out in a lax tone, resting his glasses on his big bald head that you want to spill with ketchup.
“Keep looking, i need the hero's face, details, anything. Just think of the money you and i could both earn.” He seems too enthusiastic about it, showing you determination with his fists pressing together and his wide ear to ear smile.
You leave work early that day, starting your daily walk of looking around for at least two hours or—one hour?
No, Wriothesley would be too worried if you came back after… nine. Your words not his.
You need to rearrange a schedule in your head.
Step one: somehow convince your boss that you need to leave early everyday.
Step two: search every nook and cranny of the city, ask every shady person if they get to talk to the hero in person or got a glimpse of his name.
Step three: go to the dark web— is that car flying infront of you right now?!
Shit. Just why does everything have to go down wherever path you go?
The people around you panics, and you equally panic with them because you're no fucking hero to tell them to get away from that flying car.
You take your camera out hurriedly from its case that slung around your shoulder, pressing record while frantically looking around. The ground shakes, it shakes so much that it feels like an earthquake almost.
“it's him! The villian!” Someone shouts from the distance, and just like that the screams that follows are in sync.
You know why the ground shook, the street has become a battlefield for the hero and villain fighting together with all their strengths, the air is filled with tension as they both clash in an epic confrontation. The ground trembles beneath your feet again as they traded blows, sending shockwaves through the battlefield. The once tranquil street has now been transformed into a chaotic arena of power and destruction. As the battle rages on. The hero and villain continue their fight, each strike more powerful than the last, their movements a blur of speed and precision.
You try capturing anything with your camera, but your hand shakes that it was impossible. When the villian lands a powerful punch on the hero’s shoulder, sending him way back, it makes you think it's time to leave.
You run with the rest without stubbornness this time. You should've listened to Wriothesley, why did you always have to be so curious about everything?
This curiousity will kill you next after the cat.
“Taxi!” You shout, waving your hand at the yellow vehicle, but every taxi seems to ignore the people's pleas, determined to save themselves instead.
Guess it's time to burn calories and run back home.
You were a panting mess once you reached back to your comfort space, eyes zeroing at the running television in the living room. Watching the newscaster talk about today's battle and how it affected the shops and buildings.
It seems like the battle lasted twenty minutes before the villian gave up and fled away.
Your head snaps to the bathroom once you hear the sink water drip, you didn't even think if he would be here this early.
“Wriothesley,” you say breathlessly when you swing the door open, arms squeezing his side as you take a deep breath in.
“woah, easy there. What happened?” He takes you in, hand rubbing at your arm.
“i was…” nevermind. Maybe you shouldn't tell him what you have witnessed, he'll know once he checks the news.
You only realise that he was chest bared at the moment, and you furrow your eyebrows once you see a bruise on his shoulder.
“What happened?” It was your turn to ask, talking a gentle finger and running it over the bruise, earning a hiss from him.
“was changing the car oil at the repair shop.” He mumbles, gaze turning to the mirror, “then accidentally hit my shoulder once i got up.” he turns his arm, swinging it slowly.
“but you don't work at a car repair shop?”
“it's a side hustle, sunshine.”
“why didn't you tell me?” You press on, and he hangs his head low, both of his hands gripping the sink bowl.
Okay, maybe you have annoyed him a little too much now. Upon sensing your incoming apology, Wriothesley smiles at you.
“don't worry your pretty little head too much. The bruise will fade.”
“i can massage you later?” You offer, and he lets out a breathy chuckle. “You're the best.” He gives you a chaste kiss on your lips on his way out, which makes you feel a little fuzzy.
The evening gave way to the night sky, and you found yourself lying on the bed, replaying the video captured on your camera. The footage was far from perfect, shaky and lacking in clarity, but it still managed to capture fragments of the intense confrontation between the hero and the villain. You couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement as you watched the brief glimpses of the clash that had taken place earlier.
How the villian managed to blow a punch on the hero’s shoulder, sending him way back. Must've hurted.
It's almost like the same spot Wriothesley got his bruise on.
Wait, the same spot?  You sit up on the mattress, replaying the video on repeat of their fight.
The hero was about the same height as him, the same physique, same cake—
You shake your head, focus. Wriothesley can't be the hero, no that's impossible. He was a busy man, doing… side jobs and whatnot.
Sure he was kind, always helping everyone, even walking the neighbors dog because they got sick one day.
But then again… you never saw Wriothesley and the hero at the same time,
Or was it merely a coincidence, a random alignment of physical features?
“Sunshine?” You gasp when you snap your head up to find Wriothesley leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed.
“y-yes?” You set the camera aside on top of the drawer. He moves closer, seating himself on the edge of the bed, his eyes fixated on you then glancing at he camera.
“dinner's ready.”
You nod, silence fills the room after. You know he's waiting for you tell him more, on why you were so shocked.
“was looking at the hero's pictures.”
“not mine? I'm wounded.”
You roll your eyes, a slow smile creeping up your face, and he loves it. He takes it as an invitation to lean closer, suddenly pinning you down on the bed to capture your lips with his.
It's slow, and gentle. It makes you hum softly, taking his face in your hands to kiss him back, moving your lips together until you were gasping for air.
You forget you were even suspicious of him a second ago.
Your fingers lightly trace his jawline and you feel the pricks of his growing facial hair. A small smile plays on your lips as you inform him in a soft tone, "You need to shave." Wriothesley chuckles softly, the sound warm and low. He reaches up to your hand, gently taking hold of it and bringing it to his lips, pressing a kiss on your palm. "Is that why you stopped kissing me?" He says, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "No! I find you more.. attractive. Plus it.. yeah, it feels like little needles on my face.” you admit quietly.
Wriothesley presses his face into your neck, his lips tracing soft kisses along your skin. His hands begin roving your body, each touch sending a gentle shiver across your flesh. He whispers quietly next to your ear, his voice low and smooth as he responds, "I'll shave after dinner." The sensations of his lips against your neck and his hands exploring your body mix together, creating a heady combination that heightens your senses and ignites a slow fire within you.
“I'll.. help.” You whisper, bringing both of your arms to wrap them around his back. “What a sweetheart.” he uttered out, voice muffled from trying to mold into your skin.
Your mind stops working for a second when he presses his knee gently between your legs to pull them apart, “Wriothesley, what about dinner?” You frantically ask him, tugging his hair up so both of your gazes could meet. And the almost drunken expression he has on makes you let out a shaky breath.
“later,” he drawls, his fingers tracing lazily along your sides.
Hero? Pftt, what hero? This is just your wriothesley, it's quite impossible for him to be the hero.
You snap out of your daydream when your colleague hands you a cup of coffee, he raises an eyebrow at you and you smile back awkwardly.
A sip of the coffee to get a bit of energy, but only just a bit, since too much caffeine makes you nervous.
“You filmed the crazy battle yesterday?” Your colleague sneaks from behind you, watching the video replay again on your camera.
“they do movies about them now, insane huh?”
“well atleast the hero knows he's popular.” You reply bluntly, taking anothsr sip from your hot beverage.
“flash news, someone heard that his name starts with the letter ‘W’ or som—”
You spit out your coffee all over your white attire. You both exchange surprised looks, but you quickly wipe your mouth using the back of your hand.
“where exactly did you hear that?” You get straight to the point, gesturing them to sit next to you.
“from my father's friend’s cousin sister.”
His reply makes your eyes twitch, from who and who?
“Okay…” you whisper, turning around and thinking of the utter nonsense they spouted.
“you don't believe me.” he sighed, “I've been telling this to everyone in the building but no one is believing me! Just tryna’ do my job here.”
Let's say maybe you believe him. But the dots are connecting too fast that you want to refuse from believing it.
Was your target closer to you than you had expected?
“I'm clocking out, can you cover for me today?” You inform your colleague, and he crosses his arms while eyeing you up and down.
Your roll your eyes, “I'll be the cameraman for next week. So you could get three days off.” You force a smile and they smile back enthusiastically.
Wriothesley is definitely home. Earlier than the usual time he'd be back.
Oh, he's asleep on the couch. Leaning back tiredly with an almost stern expression on, but his body seems relaxed.
Now is the time to do anything. Investigate? Go through his things without his permission? That sounded all awful… surely he's not hiding any—
“go search his things.” You furrow your eyebrows when the devil on your left shoulder speaks, it makes you rub your face in annoyance.
Then a sudden white little angel poofs on your right shoulder with a disappointed face, “no, don't do it. He's a little scary when he gets mad. But he'd never betray you!” you feel reassured at it's words and you nod in agreement.
“don't listen to it. He could hurt you if you keep it a secret.” The red devil whispers again and it makes you shiver a bit.
“he would never hurt you.” The angel frowns.
“yes he would, he's a man.”
“a good man.”
“yeah? You're no better than me, you just want that—”
“okay shut up both of you. Shoo.” You brush both of your shoulders off before taking a deep breath to brace yourself.
You'll just search his.. clothes.
You feel guilty once you pocket his jackets and pants in his side of the wardrobe, checking every hidden pocket thoroughly while glancing at the door once in a while to make sure he doesn't wake up.
As your fingers brush against his jacket, you notice an unusual sensation – a cool, metal feeling hidden underneath the fabric. Your eyes widen in surprise as you recognize it to be the form of a gun's handle. A mixture of curiosity and concern floods through you, freezing you in place.
It really is a gun. You study it carefully, turning it around and feeling it's heaviness in your palm.
But you feel your heart run out of your ribcage when two pairs of arms wrap tightly around you, his chin resting on your shoulder.
Shit.
“hi,” he whispers next to your ear, but you're too nervous to even look back at him.
“nice thing you got there.” He muses, and you feel like you're losing oxygen once he tightens his grip around you even more.
“… i just found it.” You mutter, mostly to yourself. Your head hanging too low to avoid his eyes.
“Could've just asked me, no?” He clicks his tongue, almost in disappointment.
“i have it on me because—”
“because you use it for the good, right? Because you're the hero?” Your voice is shaky when you ask, the gun in your hand shaking with you, and you're afraid to drop it.
“hero?” Wriothesley repeats, shaking you gently awake and you gasp harshly, taking in big breaths, your boyfriend immediately trying to soothe you.
it was a dream.
“you were mumbling something about a hero in your sleep. Are you okay?” He asks in concern, brushing a strand off your face. You were sweating too much for your liking.
“when did i get here?” You look around, taking your palms to rub the sleepiness off. “Right when you got off work. You slept on the bed without changing your clothes.”
Oh… so you never checked his clothes. Deciding to just sleep instead.
Your head turns back to the wardrobe, staring at it intently. Could the jacket be in the same arrangement as you found it in your dream? Or will the gun also be there?
“you're going to poke a hole through it if you keep staring.” He stifles a laugh, and you couldn't help but try to smile as well. “Drink up. Slow sips.” He offers you a glass of water, and you hold the glass firmly in your hand.
“so… what was your dream about? Even this hero appears in your dreams? Can't say I'm not jealous.”
“You'll have grey hairs too early from overthinking.” You tease, sitting upright in bed, “oh no, you already do, old man.” you frown, tracing the grey strands along with his black hair. He watches in amusement.
Wriothesley lets out a deep sigh, “give your old man a break. They're a badge of wisdom and experience,” he rests his head on your lap, nuzzling close as you massage his scalp.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
“Breaking news: the ‘’lola” flower shop sets on fire just three hours ago. Our dear hero saves the day yet again, protecting the old lady just in time before her shop explodes. The cause of the fire is still unknown…”
Destruction out of nowhere again. Accidents out of nowhere again.
The voice of the newscaster on the television fades away in this little diner you're in. You drive your attention away from it, instead focusing now on the Polaroid pictures laid out infront of you.
The hero always wore a mask to cover his identity, obviously. But even after watching the countless of interviews he had, the deep tone slightly matches Wriothesley’s voice, or maybe he's changing his tone on purpose. You can see it by zooming in on the video, how he's catching his breath everytime he speaks when he's just sitting down.
Asthma? Nah.
You tap your fingers impatiently on the table, this is not helping at all, and the slightest itch in your brain worsens as the time goes by.
You think about giving up on this, but the possibility of finding the answer on how or why did all of this happen is probably closer to you than you think.
“Bad guys never end with their schemes. Bunch of attention seekers.” The hero speaks on the television, and you hum curiously as the hero salutes the camera playfully before disappearing from the crowd.
Is it possible that there are multiple heros? Working all together in some basement and taking turns to go out and do a better job than the police?
Possibly, and you write down your new theories down on your little notepad.
You check your phone next, Wriothesley still hasn't answered you back from your most recent text to him.
It's nothing to worry about, but the thought that he's busy saving the city is gnawing at you.
Batman?
You shake your head again, gathering your things to stand up from your seat. You should be blunt asking him about it tonight.
It's cold. Colder than usual. Was the air conditioning on? No. But the windows are sure wide open. You look around the living room before closing the windows and curtains from the outside world, as you draw the curtains, the outside world becomes obscured, leaving the room in a soft semi-darkness.
“Wriothesley, honey?” You call out softly, peeking through the bathroom, not there. The bedroom? Nope.
That leaves the kitchen, you slowly peek your head in he kitchen, and sure enough, he was there.
Wriothesley was rubbing his face in exhaustion while mumbling words under his breath that you can't quite hear. Having one singular glass of some drink in his hand.
“hero this.. hero that..” you finally listen to his mumbles, which makes you furrow your eyebrows together.
"Wrio...?" You call out softly, flipping the switch to turn on the light. His sharp eyes immediately dart up to look at you, and you can't help but shiver under his intense stare. You let out a small gasp of surprise as he suddenly stands up, the glass in his hand slipping from his grip and shattering on the ground along with its contents.
Taken aback by his sudden movement, you instinctively take a step back as he approaches you. But before you can even register what's happening, he crashes his lips against yours in a hasty, rushed kiss. Caught off guard, you cling tightly to him, desperately seeking support to prevent yourself from toppling over.
“You love me,” Wriothesley's voice breaks through the heated kiss, his words coming out in a low, guttural groan. He grips the back of your thighs, hoisting you up against the wall and wrapping your legs around his waist. “right?” His voice holds a hint of vulnerability and desperation, as if seeking reassurance and affirmation of your feelings for him.
And when you don't answer him right away, he takes your lower lip between his teeth, nipping at it gently, “answer me.” He almost growls.
“love, what are you taking about? Are you drunk?” You ask breathlessly in concern, your lips feeling swollen.
His jaw clenches, “Why can't you say it?” he inhales your perfume, your scent filling him that it makes him groan, his mouth lavishing your neck and collarbone, leaving kisses and littering marks then soothing the area with his tongue that it makes your pant softly, pressing your face into his hair while your fingers weaving through his black-greyish strands.
“i love you,” you utter quietly, and it suddenly makes him start grinding his hardened length against you. “I'm sorry in advance, sweetheart.”
One minute you're confused about his words, and then the next he's pounding so hard into you like there was no tomorrow.
Strings of “don't leave me,” and “i love you’s,” are echoed in the air. Wriothesley's mouth moves against yours with a sense of urgency and haste, his tongue gliding and tangling with yours in a fervent dance. The bed creaks so loud underneath you that you think it might break anytime, the embarrassment of the headboard banging against the wall immediately gone once he hits your sweet spot rapidly.
Poor neighbors
"Wrio... Wriothesley?” you slowly flutter your eyes open, still in the hazy realm between sleep and wakefulness. The sunlight streams through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room, and you blink a few times as you take in your surroundings. A quiet sense of contentment washes over you as you remember the events of the night before, the memories of Wriothesley's body against yours and his lips on yours still fresh in your mind.
You prop yourself up using your elbows, only to look down at the sight of your sleeping lover with his head pressed up on your chest. You collapse back on the bed with a tired sigh.
You still couldn't understand the reasoning behind his.. desperate actions last night. He seemed so pent up and stressed, you'll forgive him this time.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• It's the day where you're covering for your colleague, being the cameraman for tonight's news. Yes, tonight.
Wriothesley would kill you if he knew you were working so late at night, but only because he cares about your safety. Good thing he's out of the city for a day.
Or he claims to be out of the city for some important work.
You press the button on your video camera, adjusting the lens to focus on the newscaster standing in front of the camera, holding the microphone with a serious expression. The news van is parked in front of a desolate, run-down neighborhood known for its high crime rate and dangerous reputation. The newscaster speaks into the camera, her eyes boring into the lens as she reports on the neighborhood.
“We are now standing in the heart of one of the most dangerous areas in the city. This neighborhood is notorious for its high crime rate and volatile atmosphere.”
Your senses are heightened at this rate and you really try to focus but the moment you hear the faint crunch of leaves, you lose composure just a bit.
Okay you're a bit scared, but as long as your workmates are he—
a group of armed gang members suddenly appear from the alleyways between the buildings, surrounding the news van and the camera crew. The newscaster, taken off guard, gasps and steps back.
The gang members brandish their weapons, circling the news crew menacingly. One of them shouts at the newscaster, waving his gun in the air. “Hold it right there, pretty lady. This is our turf! You ain’t gonna be broadcasting nothing about us!”
You're about to shit your pants for real this time.
“Drop your cameras and get outta here, or things are gonna get real ugly real fast,” he growls, and one of them points the gun right on your camera.
“I'm talkin’ to you too.”
Yeah, you're not going to fight anyone and act all big. You simply drop the camera on the ground to raise your hands in the air.
As the gang members close in on the news crew, the atmosphere is suddenly shattered by the sound of footsteps pounding against the pavement. Everyone turns to see a tall, muscular figure approaching from the distance.
It's the hero.
You watch in awe as the hero strides towards the group of armed gang members, his movements fluid and precise. With a swift swing of his fist, he lands a powerful punch on the leader's face, sending him stumbling backwards. The other gang members are taken aback by his sudden appearance and the display of force, their eyes widening in surprise and fear. They exchange nervous looks, realizing they're facing a much stronger opponent than they anticipated.
“Hey, let's go!” Your workmate calls for your name. Her hand waving at you so you could all retreat back to the van.
And before you could follow, the van explodes.
The sudden explosion catches you off guard, jolting you out of your stupor. Shouting in surprise, you recoil from the loud blast, ducking instinctively as debris and fragments fly through the air. Your colleague, sitting next to you in the van, lets out a terrified yell as the force of the explosion propels the driver backward. The van shudders and lurches from the impact, the windows shattering and various objects sent flying.
“in the building! Let's go!” All three of you dash to protect yourselves inside this tall company building.
“I will call the police,”
“but the hero is here!” the driver of the van speaks, almost yelling in frustration.
“the hero is also a human. Just a strong one. We can't rely on him—” but before you could continue, you all cover your ears once you hear gunshots come from outside.
Ohmygosh. It’s—it could possibly be Wriothesley who's getting hurt right now. What are even the chances?!
“Fine! Just call the fucking police!” The driver gives up, leaning back against the wall while breathing heavily.
You want to go out there. You want to see. It's your chance to see who the hero is if he got hurt. Just to get the crumbs of news in exchange for your life apparently.
When it grows quiet, you peek outside, “it's clear, I'll take a look—”
“No, you're not.” her hand is firm as she grips your wrist, “just let them go.” He, on the other hand, scowls.
“Be safe!” She shouts at you as you make a run for it, running down the alleyway while looking left and right.
Someone's in the area.
You dart behind the nearby dumpster, heart pounding in your chest as adrenaline courses through your veins. Hiding as best you can, you press yourself against the rough metal, trying to keep your breathing steady and quiet. Peeking out from behind the dumpster, you cautiously scan the surroundings, trying to catch a glimpse of someone nearby. For now, the area seems to be clear, but you can't shake the feeling that someone is in the vicinity, lurking in the shadows.
“Where ya at, lil’ birdie?” You cover your mouth when you hear someone speak, it sends a chill down your spine and you can feel your heart drumming in your ears.
Your sharp eyes turn to your side to find a metal rod, you don't hesitate to grab it before smacking the shit out of the guy.
No that did not happen, but you wish it did.
Instead, the minute you see his feet pass the dumpster, with a swift movement, you grab hold of both of his ankles, using your weight and leverage to pull them out from under him. He lets out a pained shriek as he suddenly loses his balance and topples to the ground, his body hitting the pavement with a thud.
Alright, you can be cool sometimes.
Stepping at his hands to hear him cry again, you run put of the place, making turns and finally spotting the hero sitting down against the building wall while panting, seemingly exhausted.
“…” you take slow steps once you approach him, looking down at him with your eyes already glistening.
This is it, you just have to confirm it.
Your hand pulls at his mask, “Wrio—”
Huh?
This…
Is not
Wriothesley.
“Ah, what the fuck?” He grunts, the blonde grabbing the mask from your hands and you take a step back.
“Elias?!” You yell out in confusion, it's your colleague that you're covering for supposedly today's shoot.
“You're the hero??”
“not a word. Scram, you freak.” he mutters, eyes diverting away from you and staring up at the roof. “The roof,” he whispers to himself, making the effort to stand back at his knees.
Is this bitch serious? He's the last person you expected to be the hero. With his stupidly arrogant and lax attitude.
You give him an almost death stare, studying his features again before making your way out.
You need to check the other people that were with you.
But when you arrive back at the building, they were gone.
Did the police arrive? You don't hear any sirens. Could they have possibly went up on one of the floors to hide?
You find yourself in the elevator next, watching as the doors close with your hands clasped infront of you nervously.
You take deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart and steady your nerves. Hey, at least there's nice elevator music.
As the elevator comes to a halt, the doors slide open with a soft ding, revealing the rooftop and the figure standing in the open space.
There's a figure standing at the edge of the building, you can see the person's silhouette clearly now, but you can't make out their features just yet.
Your steps are hesitant as you slowly approach the figure, the wind gently billowing around you. The city lights twinkle below, but your attention is entirely focused on the person standing at the edge of the roof. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever may come, and call out tentatively, "Hello?”
Your voice rings in the air, that the person's shoulders tense.
When they look around, you're met by the same blue eyes you've known for three years now.
“Wriothesley.” You whisper, in shock, breathlessly under your breath.
He's holding.. a gun? The same gun you remember seeing in your dream.
Something in his mind snaps when you turn around, in fear. Like it was a mistake to ever see him in the first place.
Wriothesley doesn’t even give himself time to think before his body suddenly reacts, suddenly reaching out and circling his hand around your wrist to forcibly tug you back.
He yanks hard enough that you lose your balance and fall against him, his other arm coming up to wrap around your shoulders, preventing you from going anywhere.
“W-wrio—”
“think it's time we talk, sunshine.” He speak into your ear.
When you try to move the slightest from his hold, he grips you around him tighter. You figure it's best to stay still for now.
“what? Are you going to kidnap me now?” You manage to chuckle out, nervously though, your voice coming out more shaky than you intended to.
“Is that going to satisfy your little fantasy? What, I should play into it and shove you into a corner, keep you under my thumb until you’re begging me to set you free? Or no… you want to be saved by the hero.”
"You know you're not helping with your case, right? You really sound like the bad guy now.”
You’ve definitely found his breaking point because that comment makes him snap.
Wriothesley suddenly whirls you around so you’re facing him before he’s pinning you against the nearest wall, his body practically covering your own.
“Well…” He whisper, raising an eyebrow calmly in the way you look being at his mercy. “Aren’t I?”
Your jaw practically hangs at his words. Is he... Playing the bad guy now?
Or was he really… not the opposite of the hero?
He sees the shiver you try so hard to suppress and smirks at that, clearly satisfied with your reaction, “What’s wrong, sunshine? Finally realize that the man you’ve been dating isn’t the hero you've obsessing over?” He chuckles.
“i… i knew it—”
“You didn’t,” he says, his tone suddenly becoming cool and firm.
Wriothesley leans forward, pressing into you so that you’re smashed between him and the wall. His hand suddenly comes up, cupping your jaw so that he tilts your chin up to look directly into his eyes.
“If you’d known, you’d never have come within twenty feet of me. You’d never have been alone with me or spent a single night in our bed.”
He's right. And you hate it. You feel betrayed, lied to, even.
It makes you rethink your life choices.
You've gotten too comfortable with him that you didn't even think about him being the villian. You've gotten too close while you were being a complete idiot.
“you hid it.”
Wriothesley laughs, the sound almost sounding cold, “of course I hid it, sunshine. I wasn’t going to just come strutting in wearing a big, red sign saying ‘look at me, I’m a bad guy!’ was I?”
You clench your fists together, “you tricked me.”
“Tricked? No.” He shakes his head slightly. “I simply… left out key details.”
“Why?”
“ah, there it is.” He steps back, giving you space to breath, to recollect your thoughts.
“why? Because the hero isn't a hero. He started all of this destruction. Why? To get fame, recognition, power, and to be seen, to look like he's doing something when he's not.” He lets out all in one breath, and you lips part again.
“four years ago when the building almost fell on you? He did that, on purpose. then saved you to make it look like he's the one that everyone needs.”
What the hell?
“Wriothesley, we were strangers to each other four years ago. How did you know?” You don't hesitate to step closer to get more answers out of him, but he only stares at you.
You swallow thickly when he draws infront of you once again, ���i did this all for you, love. I-i will do everything in my power to stop him, i will kill him so you wouldn't get hurt—”
“Okay, fucker. Out of my way,” Elias, the ’hero’, suddenly barks, and without warning, a gunshot rings out. The bullet pierces through Wriothesley's shoulder, causing him to flinch and stagger backwards.
Your eyes widen in horror as you watch the scene unfold. "Wriothesley!" you cry out, watching as he turns around despite the injury and charges towards Elias.
Despite the pain he must be in, Wriothesley doesn't relent. Ignoring the gunshot wound, he barrels towards Elias with unmatched determination, closing the distance between them.
"Bastard," Wriothesley manages to grit out as he collides with Elias, knocking him off his feet and sending them both crashing to the ground.
You don't hesitate to rush forward, with adrenaline fueling your actions, you move quickly towards them as they roll dangerously close to the edge of the roof.
"Stop!" you shout, your voice filled with desperation. "You'll fall!”
And surely enough, Your two hand clamps down on Wriothesley's, desperately grasping onto anything you can to prevent him from plunging off the edge.
Meanwhile, Elias grips Wriothesley's leg, using his strength to anchor him in place. The three of you hang there, suspended over the city, Wriothesley's body along with Elias’s dangling in the air.
“Sweetheart—”
“shut the fuck up I'm not letting go.” They're both too heavy, the feel of his fingers slipping away from yours increases everytime you try to pull them up.
Elias is purposely pulling Wriothesley's leg down to drop them both, your lips quiver, crying when two of his fingers slip now.
“hey,” his voice is soothing when he calls for you.
“at least… i protected you till the very end, right?” He tries smiling but it only makes the lump in your throat grow.
“i love you.”
“Wriothesley!”
“Wriothesley—!” You gasp harshly when you open your eyes so wide, finding that your hand was already reaching out for nothing.
You rest your hand on your chest before leaning back on your seat.
“are you okay?” The newscaster, the friend you made, offers you her handkerchief so you could swipe the sweat off your face.
“i think… continuesly searching about this, is making you stressed.” She points out, looking at the papers and drawings splayed out on your desk.
More theories of the disappearances of the hero and villian. Not their death. Their bodies were never found.
“it's been a year.”
The realization is like a punch to the gut as you bring a sweaty palm to rub at your temples.
“This is not over.” You whisper, more to yourself than to her. “We got no more trouble. No more heroic or bad guy news. The world is back to normal, almost like they never existed huh?”
Never existed.
She then suddenly gasps, which catches you off gaurd, “are engaged??” She eyes at the gem resting on your left ring finger.
The ring you found in one of his jacket pockets when you sorted his things out.
“yeah…” you decide to drawl out before sitting upright on your seat.
“now, if you'll excuse me, i got work to do.”
You're never going to stop searching, to find another answer of the question; 'why?'
Even if it will mean risking your life this time.
1K notes · View notes
atyourmerci · 9 months ago
Text
Vengeance (500 followers celebration!!)
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The boat scene we deserved ;)
♡ ♡
Summary: Abby finds you drunk, hiding away on a boat. Will you leave your girlfriend and run off with your childhood love?
Warnings: smut, MDNI, dom!abby, sub!reader, hate sex, abby being possessive, cheating (tsk tsk don’t do this), fingering, slapping, slight overstimulation, dubcon since reader is drunk but consenting
A/N: so this is the overall winning poll for the celebration so I hope you all enjoy! I don’t think I’ve ever read boat scene for queer abby so I’m like lowkey scared if this is uncharted territory lmao. Also this like loosely?? Follows what happens in g2 but I just made it gay as fuck also unrealistic for the relationship dynamic but I! Don’t! Care! Okay bye!
♡ ♡
“Thought I’d find you here,” she looks disappointed, but knowingly. Of course she would find you here, where the fuck else would you have gone, home? There was no home.
“Ya’no he’ll kill you too for just coming to find me,” slurs out your mouth, you’d be drinking since dawn perhaps. Drinking every bit you have left, not like you’d have a rainy day in store for you come sunlight.
“I’ll take my chances…” she situates herself up on the bench with her forearms lazily cast over her thighs, “how much have you had to drink,” it’s not accusatory, more of a redundant question she knew the answer to before she’d ever taken off to find you.
You take another hefty swig straight from the dirty bottle, letting the lip knock against your teeth. “Fuck off,” you throw out at her, eyes cast on the doorway she had walked through, both dead men walking now.
“So you want to tell me what happened,” now she begins to pry, all the rumors she had heard, maybe they were true, but she thought she knew you better. Once she did, when she was yours, if you could even call it that. Perhaps unspoken puppy love, a trauma bond of sorts. Whatever it was, was over, not that you ever had the decency to tell her. You were with someone else now, whether it was right or not, it was your newfound reality.
“I’m not like you…” your gaze meets hers at last, the words trail off, she knew what she had heard was true. “I couldn’t fucking do it, she was pregnant, begged for me to spare her…the kid. You don’t understand what it’s like, my morals are fucked from those people. This isn’t us. This isn’t you.”
“You don’t think I’ve been put in fucked situations?”
“That’s my point abby, this is all fucked…” you throw your hands hazardously in the air that springs droplets of the honey liquor flying out. Your feet move on their own, bringing you into an upright position as you begin closing in on her, “we are all just chess pieces in their game, when will you understand that.”
She rises out of her seat to meet your stance, she was much stronger, much more intimidating than you could ever surmount to, but the honey liquid encouragement was working overtime. “So you’re just going to run off? you can’t escape this,” her words reek of venom now.
“Come with me,” it comes out as a plea, but confident in meaning. She lets out a scoff at your attempt, shaking her head at your scheme. “What you’re just going to leave her?” She didn’t need to give a name, a further explanation, you both knew the predicament well enough.
Would you leave her?
“Yes.”
“You’re a fucking ass you know that-“ she begins to walk past you but you take grip at her muscled bicep, you feel as it twitches under your grasp.
“Abby-“ you begin to plead. She gives you one last look of adoration before ripping you to pieces.
She begins backing you into the nearest wall, pushing her hands into your chest to get you to her desired location, “no- fuck you- you don’t get to do that anymore.” She continues to dig her palms into your chest, you try to pull them off of you to no avail, on any day you’d be no match for her strength, but today the liquor only worsened your case.
“You know you’re different,” you bite at her, deepening your gaze, letting your eyes speak louder than your words could. She takes a moment to stare at you, truly wondering if you’d even meant it, if she knew the truth. “Don’t fucking do that-“ her palm grips at your throat now with no real threat as her other palm continues to dig into the flesh of your chest.
“You know it’s true abby.”
“God I fucking hate you,” she says through gritted teeth. She can barely get out the sentence before clashing her mouth against yours. She ravenous, eating you alive, digging her fingers into your soft flesh. She wasn’t allowed to have you for so long, but now, for however long she could, she’d reclaim what was hers.
Shes sloppy, mouth messy against yours as you both fight for dominance, dueling for the right over one another. While her teeth begin to bite down at your lip she brings her wavering fingers to the button of your jeans, attempting to break you out of any confines that are in her way. She rips them down off of you with no generosity as she whips you around so that your chest and palms are pressed into the wall.
You can’t see her, she wanted it that way. This was wrong, but she couldn’t stop herself. In the end you were always hers anyways.
You’re left panting into the cold wood of the walls, awaiting her punishment. Her large hands grip into your bare hips, jutting them out so they meet her completely clothed pelvis.
“Always were so pliable huh?” She taunts into the shell of your ear, making you shutter under her breath.
“I hate that you made it happen like this,” her hand swings down and lays a stinging smack into the meat of your ass, you breathe out hoarsely. “I hate what you do to me,” another smack is laid into you, this time eliciting a whine to escape your throat. “I fucking hate what you make me feel,” this time the infliction came harder than the rest, the slick now beginning to run down your thighs, aching so badly to be touched.
“Abby- please.”
Her knee comes between your own, opening them up wider for her, your slick stringing a sticky web between your thighs. Her hand snakes around your waist, without warning leaving a gentle smack onto the mound. You let out an eager whimper at the decadent pain. She rubs the wound quickly after, feeling your built up arousal in her fingertips that elicits a smug groan in your ear.
She continues to rub down your slick slit with no true target in mind, coaxing as many pathetic moans she could get at her indirection for your pleasure.
“Does she touch you like this?”
You don’t respond, brain too fuzzy to play into her antics. Another smack is laid into the soft pink flesh, hitting your swollen clit perfectly.
“Do you let her?” She says with more aggression this time, rubbing harsh circles around your clit now. You can’t help the guttural moan that comes out, “y-YES.” You should lie, but you didn’t want to know what she would do if she found out you were lying.
Her pace doesn’t falter, continuously circling the swollen bud, “does she feel better.” You pause for a moment, knowing the answer but forced with the moral dilemma of speaking it- “no.”
“I know.” Her fingers come off your clit causing a pathetic whine out of you. Her hand comes to the back of you now, her fingertips prodding at your fluttering hole, teasing the impending doom of her cruelty.
“Deep breath,” she commands of you. You pace your rapid breathing to suck in deep- when she hears the air hit your lungs she plunges her pointer and middle finger deep inside. There’s no grace, no sympathy as she beats into you. Her fingers already coated in your slick haphazardly plunging into your sweet spot.
Your screams don’t stop now, so completely full from her fingers, lust coating your eyes over white. You bite into her forearm placed next to your head to stabilize herself, teeth cutting close to the bulging veins. Her own breath beginning to falter, you can hear the faint moans trailing out her own mouth, almost completely covered by your moans.
Your walls start closing in on her fingers, she rips her free hand out of the tight enclosure of your mouth, in seconds working tight circles on your enlarged clit. The sensation of both stimulants drawing you to the edge of your climax “abby- I’m going t-“
“Tell me you don’t love her.”
She wasn’t going to make this easy, of course she wasn’t. But you’d do anything for release now. “I don’t- I- don’t!”
Her fingertips on your clit stop circling as she pinches onto it, and thrusts even harder into your hole, “say her fucking name.”
You’re screaming out, breathless, mind numb, you’d kill to finish at this point.
“I don’t love Ellie! Please!”
“Good girl now cum on my fingers,” and like that she continued, fucking into you relentlessly, fingers barely stable coated in slick at your clit.
Your ears began to ring as your orgasm took full autonomy over you, sending waves of pleasure down your pathetic structure and out through your needy throat. All you could muster out was incoherent spells of curses and the name of your capture. She took everything she could from you, never letting up till you begin to shake from the overstimulation.
Her fingers trailed from your clit to your hip, she dug her nails into the flesh there. The fingers wedged in your hole remained, gently thrusting when she felt it pulse, eliciting strained whimpers from you.
“I hate that I love you,” as she pulled her fingers out of you, leaving you there limp.
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What happened before this?
Taglist: @wishbones999 @bookpagecandlescent @littlegingerperson5 @lookforthelight1 @fict1onallyobsessed @shewantstoknow @a-little-bit-of-everybody
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fancyfeathers · 1 month ago
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Love the mother daughter pair, but not gonna lie, fascinated by the thought of bruce blackmailing reader, and then having to properly try and woo her back essentially. If he really wants a seemingly loving family, he has to know he needs to coax his wife and the mother of his daughter into a better mood and viewpoint. No matter how much blackmail he has, she can start gaining just as much now that she's in his life, and I doubt the daughter will start trusting him properly with the tension between him and her mother. How would bruce coax the mother back? And would Talia actually have an easier time establishing a connection? Could see Bruce feeling jealous of Talia if that was the case. Idk just the tangent my mind ran on, even if that's not the case still love the work
Yandere Batfam w/ Wife/Mother!Darling & Daughter/Sister!Darling Masterlist
The blackmail is practically all there is he does that truly hurts him, and that’s only if she does not agree to his proposal when states his intent of gaining custody of their daughter. But after that comes to pass everything would be perfect for a normal couple, news about their engagement spreads like fire, and the wedding will probably be the social event of the century given how they were engaged once before and now it’s back on. The most perfect white wedding and Bruce treating his darling like the perfect husband.
Their daughter does not know the details of what happened, one moment it’s her and her mama having a perfect life together, traveling the world and being each other’s best friend, and then the next all of that is over, her father is back in her mother’s life and now she has siblings and none of them feel like the family she had with her mama, it feels suffocating and her mama doesn’t seem as bright as she once did.She clings to her mama every single day and is only separated when her attention is dragged away forcefully from her daughter and one of her brothers of father comes right to the littlest one’s side.
His wife does not push any of them away, she lets her husband hold her in the morning hours when they have just woken up and press kisses onto her face, she lets Dick call her mom as he runs up to hug her, she lets Jason help her daughter with her homework even though she asked her for help, she lets Tim take her daughter out to the park even if it’s their mother-daughter day they have, or used to have, every week, she lets Damian sit down by her and lay against her while she reads to her daughter. She will never be happy but she will fake it, she does not want to make a scene and have her daughter see and realize something is wrong and do something herself. She wants her daughter to be happy and have a future, go to university, leave Gotham and go back to what is left of the life they had, parents make sacrifices for their children and she is willing to do everything for her. She plays the game of pretend, acts like the perfect wife and mother and stepmother, stays calm and bites back all the internal rage she has building up inside her.
Honestly it is after every she has been through just for her daughter’s sake is when Talia starts to think a bit more highly of her, she understands the strength it takes to make sacrifices for one’s child. She also knows how possessive and protective they all are of her and her daughter, so meeting her discreetly is the best option. Like at a charity gala and someone accidentally spills something on her dress and has to go to the bathroom to clean up and-
“Hello again.”
She nearly screamed when she turned on the bathroom light and saw Talia’s reflection in the mirror. Talia helps her clean up and change into a new dress all while talking to her about what she has found out. She went from viewing her as Bruce’s house pet, because it was clear their marriage was not equal, to seeing a mother who is willing to sacrifice and do whatever it takes to take care of her daughter.
But it is during this the question arises and the answer is terrifying…
“What are you going to do if your daughter is just as trapped as you are? What if all you did for her was in vein?”
“I-I….”
“You are far too soft, you will never get what you desire for your daughter while you stay docile, playing the role of a perfect housewife, a house pet…”
“Talia…”
“I should be off now, but do take care of my Damian, he adores you as his stepmother.”
She leaves her alone in the bathroom and she just cries, feeling like a failure of a mother and she she can barely look her daughter in the eye again.
She just lays awake at night with the thoughts of the life she grew up with, she had a golden childhood and all she wanted was that happiness for her own daughter.
After that there is no chance of anyone winning her over, but she will not act out either, she just feels dead inside, like a complete failure of a mother. Her daughter clearly notices something is wrong and while her mother will stay perfectly compliant, her daughter is a completely different story.
The moment she sees her mom loose that shine in her eyes like she had when raising her on her own she knows this is all of their faults, they took her and her mom away from their life they loved and now there is nothing left of the mother who used to teach her to dance at parties, or attend her piano recitals and sat in the front row to applaud the loudest and despite the busy schedule of meetings she had she never missed one, or when her mom who could not help but boast about her daughter’s latest achievements…
Remember she is still her father’s daughter and has a level of determination that should not be tired under pressure.
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vanteguccir · 11 months ago
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── ୨୧ ! 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗨𝗖𝗞 𝗕𝗢𝗬
        𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader
SUMMARY: Where Nick and Chris are trying to record wednesday's video, but Matt's lovestruck gaze keeps going to Y/N, distracting himself.
WARNING: None.
REQUESTED?: Yes, from anon.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
   ༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
"Matt! Hellooo, is anyone there?" Nick spoke from behind the camera while moving his arms around exasperatedly, looking at his brother, who had his eyes focused on the couch in the back of the room.
Matt is the kind of guy that when he loves, he loves hard.
So to say that Matt was crazy about Y/N was an understatement, all that was on his mind day and night was his girlfriend; His days were happier with her by his side, he felt like he had more energy and strength to do anything, only because of her.
His favorite thing in the world was seeing her happy, so his heart warmed every time he heard her talking about the books she was reading with so much passion and affection - so much so that he lost count of how many times he took her to the bookstore and bought more than 100 dollars in books, just to be able to hear her talk about the characters that Matt never memorized the names of and the story that always made she speak too quickly and with so much devotion.
Whenever Matt was with his brothers or friends, he would mention his girl. It was automatic, everything reminded him of her. He was obsessed. With all that said, it was inevitable that, being in the same room, the boy wouldn't be able to take his eyes off her.
The theme of that Wednesday's video was something suggested by Y/N herself, as just a few minutes ago the four of them were lying on the sofa in the living room, the girl with her feet on Matt's lap while starting a new book, while the brothers watched old videos of themselves on television.
His hands caressed the tops of her feet covered in fluffy Iron Man socks, which she had probably stolen from his side of the drawer. Every now and then Matt's right hand would go up her legs to Y/N's left hand, taking it away from the book and to his mouth, sealing the warm, soft skin with love, keeping his eyes on the TV screen.
A smile grew on Matt's face every time his brothers made vomiting sounds, calling them disgusting. While Y/N felt like her cheeks could explode from how red they became.
Matt's teenage voice coming from the videos made Y/N's heart warm, and seeing the silly smiles on the triplets' faces as they traveled through the land of nostalgia made an idea pop into the girl's head, who instantly put down the book and paused the video, catching the attention of them.
And this takes us to the current moment, after Y/N has separated some pictures from when they were children, teenagers or nowadays on Nick's phone, having created an album to be used in that specific video.
Matt and Chris were sitting at the kitchen table, facing the camera, Nick - who was standing behind it with the album open on his phone -, and consequently also facing the sofa, where Y/N was sitting comfortably as she flipped through her book, a smile appearing every now and then on her face as her expressions changed according to the events in the story.
A cup of cappuccino that Matt made for her rested on her legs, keeping her warm, while her right hand came out of the book every now and then and picked up the drink, taking a sip.
It was the third time that Nick caught Matt's attention, who seemed to get lost in his girlfriend's figure, and all external sounds, including his brothers' voices, became muffled.
To disguise it, the boy would randomly guess the name of one of his brothers or himself when Nick showed a small part of a picture, getting it wrong almost every time. This led to him having the lowest score.
"What? Yes, that's Chris." Matt blinked his eyes quickly, looking away from Y/N and to the phone in Nick's hands.
"Matt, it's you!" Nick exclaimed, rolling his eyes and sighing, he knew the video would continue like this if he didn't get Y/N out of the room, but his best friend looked too comfortable on the couch.
"Pay attention, dumbass." Chris slammed the palm of his left hand against Matt's forehead, earning a slap back on the arm.
Y/N lifted her head from the book momentarily, holding back a laugh as she saw the brothers fighting, rolling her eyes playfully before returning her attention to the story, adjusting her position on the couch.
"I'm sorry, I'll pay attention. I promise." Matt raised his hands in surrender, swallowing hard as he glanced briefly at Y/N and saw her laughing softly, returning his eyes to his older brother and forcing himself to keep them there.
"For those of you who aren't understanding, Y/N is sitting on the couch reading, and Matt can't stop looking at her. He's obsessed, I swear." Nick muttered behind the camera, shaking his head even though they couldn't see him.
When the first round ended, Chris got up and took Nick's place behind the camera, agreeing to be the next to show the pictures and be the jury.
Nick handed him the phone and sat down next to Matt, looking briefly at the couch and closing his lips in a thin line at Y/N's wide eyes at the book, probably surprised by some absurd scene.
The oldest looked at Matt, seeing that his brother was already looking at Y/N, too. Their eyes quickly met when Matt felt Nick looking at him, a laugh escaping both of their mouths.
"Are you ready?" Chris asked after choosing the first picture he would use, receiving a nod from the two brothers, who had both arms on the table so they could reach the "button" faster.
The youngest zoomed in on the pic and turned the screen towards the two, waiting for one of them to get it right.
Matt had never moved so fast, his left hand slamming against the post-it too hard as his eyes were wide in euphoria.
"It's me! Look at Y/N's hand there." Matt shouted in excitement, raising his right hand and pointing at the phone behind the camera.
"Yeah, that's Matt." Nick sighed, knowing that even though he got it right too, Matt spoke first. "You only got it right because Y/N is in the picture!"
"Obviously, he knows Y/N's traits more than he knows his own." Chris scoffed from behind the camera, zooming out of the image and looking for the next one.
The picture in question was from a day when the four of them went out to dinner at an Italian restaurant about a year ago, Nick and Chris were sitting on one side of the table and Y/N and Matt on the other. Matt had his elbows resting on the wooden table and his hands crossed, laughter escaping his lips when he heard something Chris said, while Y/N joined him in laughing, her hands crossed around his right bicep and her head resting on his covered shoulder.
The pic was taken by Nick, being the passionate photographer that he was, and Chris felt a smile stretch across his face as he remembered the moment.
Even though they made fun of their brother so much for being a crazy in love for Y/N, they felt their chest fill with joy for their brother every time they saw them together. They knew that their brother had found his other half, and seeing him as happy as ever made them just as happy.
"I know, he's obsessed with her." Nick commented again, receiving a slap on the back of his head, letting out a laugh when he saw Matt roll his eyes, but don't deny anything.
The girl looked up again when she heard her name being said by one of the boys and her person being mentioned more than once. Her eyes met Matt's blue ones, who looked at her with love and affection, an easy smile appearing on his face almost automatically.
Y/N smiled back, blowing a kiss, which the boy pretended to catch with his left hand and keep in the pocket of his hoodie.
When the round changed again, it was Matt's turn to stand behind the camera and choose the pictures.
The boy got up from his seat, fixing his pants and walking over to where Chris was, taking the phone from his hand and closing the last picture chosen by the youngest.
His thumb scrolled across the screen, looking for the first one he would use as he let his brothers settle down.
A smile stretched across Matt's face as he passed by a picture of Nick and Y/N, where they were both wearing sunglasses, with feathers around their necks and making faces at the camera. Nick had his left hand raised showing a peace sign, and it was there that Matt decided to zoom in, but not before lingering his eyes for a few seconds on the full image, admiring his girlfriend there.
Matt took advantage of the fact that his brothers were in a silly argument and turned around momentarily, looking at his girl, who was now in a position that in his head was probably very uncomfortable, but he already knew that for Y/N, the most different positions were the best.
The girl felt eyes on her and looked up, seeing Matt standing there admiring her. A reddish color took over her cheeks, and her fingers played with the pages of the book, trying to hide her shyness.
Matt nodded briefly at the book as if asking her how the story was going. Y/N smiled at the action, making a chief kiss gesture with her right hand while her left held the book open, afraid of losing the page she stopped at.
"I want to hear all abo-" Matt began in a low voice, just for Y/N to hear, but his sentence was cut by a hand hitting the table.
"I'm going to get Y/N out of the room if you don't turn around now and do your job." Nick said, crossing his arms. Chris held back his laughter beside him, his face turning red from the force he exerted in the action.
"You're so unnecessary." Matt rolled his eyes, throwing a wink at Y/N, who had a goofy smile, before turning to face his brothers again.
"No, you are." Nick responded, opening his mouth to argue against Matt again, only to be stopped by Chris, who smacked his left arm while laughing.
"Go ahead, Matt." The youngest asked, straightening up and clearing his throat, looking at his brother as he waited for the first picture.
Nick sent a bored look to Y/N, who was still watching them intently. The girl laughed softly, turning her attention back to the book as she felt her heart warm.
Y/N felt so grateful for her boyfriend and his brothers, who she saw as family. She would never forget the day Nick thanked her for how happy she made his brother, but little did he know, it was Matt who made her the happiest.
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extra - comments:
"Matt looking behind the camera every 2 minutes with a lovestruck look on his face was the cutest thing I've ever seen 😔"
"Matt being able to guess the picture that had Y/N in it just because of her 😭"
"I love how Nick and Chris make fun of Matt for his love for Y/N all the time"
~ "deep down, they love them together more than the couple itself lol"
"I want to have a boyfriend who is as obsessed with me as Matt is with Y/N ​​🧎‍♀️"
"Y/N is a total bookworm, and I'm here for it!"
~ "petition for her to make tiktoks about the books she reads ✏️📄"
"it's incredible to see the difference between Matt before Y/N and Matt during Y/N. She's so good for him 🥺"
"Matt smiles so much when Y/N is near 😫"
"Matt and Y/N >>>>>>> any other famous couple"
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