#sorry I tried to make this an actual ‘professional’ post about the movie but fuck it I’m just feral over these two

[zootopiathingz]

One thing I will literally never be normal about is these two scenes

The shift in the atmosphere; how it goes from warm and soft, to dark and unsettling. The way you can tell the mood has changed, not only in their facial expressions but in the lighting around them. The first scene there was hardly a single shadow, then in the second their faces are practically engulfed in darkness.

It’s so fucking genius and it breaks me every time

[stormyoceans]

hey girl, I'm happy to hear that you're feeling better! 👊 listen, it's cold in my country right now and I want to keep warm. Tell me your fav european GL(not Asian, pls, I'm tired of it) when you're able to write long posts. You can take your time. The cold weather is forecast to last until May 20 😪

hello, anon!!!!

im sorry to hear the cold weather is gonna last so long in your country, i hope you're keeping warm and drinking lots of tea or other hot beverage of choice!!!!!

i can definitely give you some recs for wlw shows, although i need to give two little disclaimers first:

i actually know of only one european wlw show, so i hope it's okay if i expanded this list to include western shows in general ;;;;;;;;

networks and streaming platforms are my mortal enemies because they love cancelling sapphic shows after one or two seasons (AND FUCK THEM ALL FOR THAT TBH), but if i didn't put those series on the list, this would be very short and i also think we would be missing out on some great television, so im adding their status to let you know what to expect before getting into it

OKAY AND NOW WITHOUT FURTHER ADO LET'S GET INTO IT

a league of their own (comedy drama - 1 season - cancelled)

based on the 1992 film of the same name with new characters and storylines, the series, set in 1943, is about the formation of the rockford peaches, a women's team in the nascent all-american girls professional baseball league.

one of my favorites on this list and im so upset it got cancelled AMAZON PRIME YOU WILL PAY FOR YOUR CRIMES

anne+ (drama - 2 seasons + a movie - complete)

the one actual european wlw show of the list, this is a dutch drama series that follows the main character, anne, as she tries to navigate her early twenties as a young lesbian. upon bumping into her ex-girlfriend one day, anne reflects on how her past relationships have contributed to who she has become.

honestly for being from a smaller indie production this is such a relatable, engaging, and well-done series, i definitely recommend it!!!!

dickinson (historical comedy drama - 3 seasons - complete)

based on the life of emily dickinson, the series focuses on her relationships with her family, her friends, her society, and on her long-term romantic relationship with her childhood best friend and sister in law, sue.

another big favorite of mine, it's fun, wild, has an unique modern twist, and both hailee steinfeld and ella hunt are incredible

first kill (fantasy drama - 1 season - cancelled)

the series focus on the relationship between teenage vampire juliette fairmont, who needs to make her first kill in order to enter adulthood and take her place among her powerful family of legacy vampires, and calliope burns, who belongs to a monster-hunting family and needs to slay her first monster in order to gain her family's approval and officially become a hunter herself.

look, i know there are a lot of mixed reviews on this show, but personally i enjoyed it a lot. it's good, campy fun, and a breath of fresh air from the hetero love stories that pervade the genre

gentleman jack (historical drama - 2 seasons - cancelled)

based on the collected diaries of anne lister, which contain over four million words and are written in secret code, documenting a lifetime of lesbian relationships. the series starts in 1832, when anne leaves hastings brokenhearted and heads to halifax, to restore her uncle's estate that she has inherited. while restoring the estate, she finds that the family land has a coal mine that it's being stolen by two brothers and develops a relationship with a woman named ann walker.

genuinely SO UPSET about this one being cancelled, it was such a gorgeous show with the most delightful english humor and complex relationships WHY PEOPLE CAN'T RECOGNIZE QUALITY TELEVISION

gypsy (psychological thriller - 1 season - cancelled)

the series follows jean holloway, a therapist who seems to have it all, but who secretly obsesses over the people her patients talk about in their sessions. this leads her to seek out sydney, one of her patient's ex-girlfriend, with whom she starts developing a romantic relationship under a secret identity.

i wasn't sure whether to rec this or not because i have very mixed feelings about it like the concept is very intriguing to me but the execution wasn't the best imho. it's still a solid show tho, and naomi watts is. well, naomi watts

the haunting of bly manor (horror - 1 series - complete)

loosely based on the novella the turn of the screw by henry james, the series follows dani clayton, a young american woman hired as an au pair for the children of the wealthy wingrave family in england. after arriving at the bly estate, she begins to see apparitions that proceed to haunt the premises.

i personally LOVE all of mike flanagan's series, and this one is no exception, however (unpopular opinion) i do find the second half of it kinda lacking. it's still a fantastic show tho, and i adore victoria pedretti

killing eve (thriller - 4 seasons - complete [but at what cost])

the series follows eve polastri, a british intelligence investigator tasked with capturing an assassin named villanelle. as the chase progresses, the two develop a mutual obsession.

once again i wasn't sure whether to rec this or not because while the first two seasons of this show are honestly some of my all time favorite, and the third season is still acceptable, the last one is honestly one of the biggest disappointment i've ever experienced in television. still, i think it's a staple of wlw shows in the last decade so i had to include it

warrior nun (fantasy drama - 2 seasons - cancelled, but we should be getting a revival as a trilogy of feature films. hopefully)

the story follows ava silva, a a 19-year-old orphan who wakes up in a morgue with a new lease on life and a divine artifact embedded in her back. she discovers she is now part of the ancient order of the cruciform sword that has been tasked with fighting demons on earth, and powerful forces representing both heaven and hell want to find and control her.

when i tell you i was so skeptical when i started this show but it's honestly SO GOOD, it really has it all: talented cast, beautifully-written three-dimensional characters and relationships of all varieties, gorgeous cinematography, amazing fight scene choreography.......THEY BETTER DELIVER THOSE MOVIES OR IM GONNA BE SO UPSET

AND NOW LET ME ADD SOME SHOWS WITH WLW RELATIONSHIPS IN A BIGGER ENSEMBLE CAST

sense8 (scifi drama - 2 seasons - complete)

the story follows eight strangers as they discover that they form a cluster of "sensates": human beings who are mentally and emotionally linked, can sense and communicate with one another, and can share their knowledge, language and skills.

i don't think i could say something about this show that hasn't already been said tbh. it's wonderfully queer and explores issues related to identity, sexuality, gender, and politics. it's honestly a must watch.

the wilds (drama - 2 seasons - cancelled)

the series revolves around a group of teenage girls who are left stranded on a deserted island after their plane crashes on the way to the dawn of eve program, a young women's empowerment retreat. while the girls try to survive, they are unaware that they're actually the subjects of a social experiment.

AMAZON PRIME YOU WILL PAY FOR YOUR CRIMES PT. 2 STOP CANCELLING MY FAVORITE SHOWS 😭

yellowjackets (horror - 2 seasons - on going)

in 1996, a new jersey high school girls' soccer team travels to seattle for a national tournament. while flying over canada, their plane crashes deep in the wilderness, and the surviving team members are left stranded for nineteen months. the series follows both their attempts to stay alive in 1996 and the lives of the survivors 25 years later, in 2021, as the events of their ordeal continue to affect them many years after their rescue.

i. freaking. LOVE. this show!!!!!!!! but it also comes with a mile long list of trigger warnings, including cannibalism, SA, abuse, animal killing, etc. maybe it's silly to point this out considering the genre of the show, but still. just be safe if you do decide to watch it!!!!!!

and this is pretty much it!!!! this is obviously not a comprehensive list, im aware i left out some popular shows and other ones that feature sapphic relationships between side characters, but these are my personal favorites and they also feel like the series where the wlw part of the story is fairly front and center, at least imho ;;;;;;;;

[spoopydooblr]

My King Will Be Kind Chapter 1 / Kendall Roy x OC

an: hiiiiiiiii first time posting here ughhhh anyways enjoy this kendall fic bc i binged succession with my roommate

pairing: Kendall Roy x Original Female Character

tw: mentions of drug use, cursing

Stella fixed her black Valentino dress in the bathroom mirror of the club. She looked okay.  Not bad, not great.  It was hour three at the club, and Stella was really over it.  The bass felt like it was pumping through the walls. She needed a break from the craziness. It was usually like this, work all week and stupid events like this all weekend. And this weekend was her friend's birthday.  

Not that she didn't love her friends—or the free drinks.  And the guys could be fun...sometimes.  Tonight they partied with some semi-professional baseball players who were okay at best.  One even tried to follow her into the bathroom, but she declined.  

Even now, four movies and two shows under her belt, Stella struggled to a guy that actually gave a fuck.  Her most recent role, a side character in HBO's Delirium, was by-far her biggest break.  They had just wrapped season two, so she was taking some time in New York to work on her writing.  By dumb luck a studio was interested in her writing and wanted some pilots.  After spending the last few years in Los Angeles, Stella decided to come back to the east coast for a bit.  

So here she was now, walking back from the bathroom of some club, trying to think of the best excuse to leave the party and get the fuck home.  Stella weaved through the VIP line, arriving at the private section where her friends were.  The baseball guys were still evident, but two other men--in very expensive suits--stood with the group.  She made her way over, grabbing a drink from the waiter.  It was time to find the birthday girl and say goodbye.  Stella spied her friend from across the room, but was interrupted by one of the suit-men.  She immediately recognized him.

"Roman Roy." He stuck out his hand.  

Roman Roy.  Son of media bigwig Logan Roy.  Stella knew exactly who he was.  Not that she was a big fan of business stuff, but she knew all about ATN and their hateful broadcasting.  She knew all about his billionaire family and their insane antics.  

She shook his hand reluctantly.

"So you're a big deal I hear?" He laughed. "Well I've never heard of you."

"I've been in a few movies—" She started, but is again interrupted by him.

"Argh, actress, never mind." Roman scoffed at her and made his way to another one of her friends.

Stella was just drunk enough to feel pretty embarrassed. Normally, she would brush something like this off, but he was an important person in the city.  The Roy's could make or break her career if they really wanted to.  They controlled the media.  Hell, they were the media.  

"Hey. I'm sorry about my brother." A deep voice said from her side. "He's a fuck."

Stella looked at the man who was now in front of her. The first thing she noticed was how tired he looked.  The second was that he was Kendall Roy.  And he was just as hot in person.  

"Oh, um, it's okay."

"I'm Kendall, by the way." He held out his hand. He had a fancy ring on his pinkie finger.

"Stella."

"Matchstick Funeral." He said.

Stella couldn't help but light up. "Yes!"

It was one of her first roles. She played Jude Law's estranged daughter. That was three years ago, now.

"It's my uh, ex-wife's favorite movie."

Stella laughs, accidentally. "Sorry, um, wow, I feel like a lot of people don't remember that film."

"It's so fuckin good."

"God, thank you, wow."

They stood there for a minute.

Stella decided to play dumb. "So what do you do?"

Kendall laughed nervously. "Uh—"

Stella batted her eyelashes, then laughed, "I'm kidding, jeez!"

"Oh," Kendall smiled. "I suppose you're familiar."

"With the sexual abuse on the cruises?" She continues. "Or your rap song?"

Kendall scoffs.

"Before I was, um, like this." Stella gets quieter. "I loved celebrities and all that. I read like, every magazine." It was true, she loved stealing her mother's People Magazine as a kid.  

"Ah, I'm surprised you're even talking to me, then."

"Me too."

"Do you wanna uh, go outside?"

She was still a little unsure about him, but she wasn't really a fan of crowds and honestly really needed to smoke.

"Yeah, sure."

Kendall led her to a private balcony. Stella had never been to this part of the club, even with her own notoriety.

"Do you smoke?" Kendall revealed a pack of American Spirit yellow.

"Well," Stella rummaged through her Prada purse. "Not nicotine." She pulled out a joint.

"Need a light?" Kendall asked, moving towards her. Stella put the joint in her mouth, leaning over to Kendall's lighter. She pulled away quickly after, the scene becoming more and more intimate.

This was the same guy that yelled "Fuck the Patriarchy" to paparazzi last year. And he could be her dad. He probably wasn't that old, but he had to be a good ten years older. At least.  She remembered the tabloid photos of him snorting cocaine off of a strippers boobs.  Didn't he have a couple of kids, too?

Stella took a long drag of her joint.

"Can I get a hit?" Kendall stated, and it's as if they're teenagers hiding weed from their parents.

She nodded, handing him the joint.  He didn't look like he was on anything else, so she obliged.  

He took a long drag and looked her up and down.  She felt objectified, but it kind of turned her on.  Kendall probably knew that.  

"I bought a fucking company today."

"What?"

"Me and my siblings.  We bought Pierce."  She kind of knew what he was talking about, based on the Twitter trending page from that morning.  #Roy was third on the page.  

Stella laughed,  "Congrats, Kendall."  She touched his arm, mentally noting to stop drinking and smoking so much.  It was crazy to her, all this.  He casually dropped billions of dollars and goes to the club.  

"If I called a car right now, would you want to uh, go to my place?"

Stella couldn't believe it. Kendall fucking Roy.

"I don't really do that sort of thing, I'm sorry. It's like an image thing, and I'm so young I can't—"

"Of course." He looked genuinely disappointed.

Stella cursed internally as she whispered, "do you want my number?"

"What?"

Stella rolled her eyes. "You heard me."

"Maybe I just wanted to hear you say it again." He smirked.

[straydogsys]

hi i saw you gave a couple people advice and i wanted to ask something as well if thats okay.

i’ve been questioning if i’m (we’re?) plural/a system for like 3-4 years at this point and doing a lot of research but i’m terrified that i’m subconsciously faking it, or that i’m thinking it’s plurality when it’s actually something else. so what i wanted to ask is like.. how do you know you’re a system? i know that’s a loaded question sorry

Hi anon it's okay dw!

Sadly this is something that will probably never truly go away, we're professionally diagnosed and even now we struggle with the idea that we aren't a system, that our trauma isn't enough, that we were misdiagnosed, ect. Because doubting yourself is part of the disorder its not something that goes away overnight (or even ever).

Here's a few smaller pieces of advice, I hope it helps somewhat.

Engaging with your system. This probably seems obvious but I know some of us avoid it because it's a case of 'if we're faking no one will respond'. However it's something we find useful that is relatively easy to do.

Do something with your system. Linking to the last point setting up a small activity can help with the feeling os faking, especially if it's something someone else wants to do. You don't have to do it right away either or even as a collective, just do something for the system or with an alter can help reassure that you aren't faking. Ideas for this can include: making a playlist and/or trying 'new' music, going shopping (irl or online), watching a movie or TV series (you could even make it a 'movie night and get snacks), playing with the younger alters, trying foods no one has tried before, playing a boardgame, trying a new hobby, ect

Develop a system mantra. This probably sounds stupid but it's worth a shot, telling yourself something like 'I'm not faking and I'm hot as fuck' can help with self confidence, like it doesn't even need to be serious, just something nice you can tell yourself that is positive and/or can make you laugh.

Reread the diagnostic criteria and/or offical papers. I've seen a few systems saying this and it helps us, it just reaffirms what we know about us and tells us that we aren't making things up.

Remember that even if you're wrong about being a system it doesn't matter. I know this is some what of a 'hot topic' but there is nothing wrong with realising you were wrong about something. Although in this case given how long you've identified with the system label I doubt its the case, for us remembering that we don't need to be right 100% of the time helps a lot.

Allowing your alters to become more distinguished from 'you'. Okay this is a really scary thing and (for a lot of systems like us) isn't possible at this moment. However even doing things online (ie giving your alters their own page on simply plural or pluralkit account) can help lessen the feelings of 'am I faking' (at least they do here- Which is ironic because we aren't good at using bots due to Fear)

Have a journal and/or private system GC. Linking to the previous post it's something that can help, you don't need to write down everything that's ever happened in your system ever, but we like to jot down conversations we hear in headspace, therapy stuff, big system achievements, stuff like that. It can really help with that feeling because some of us look at what we've written and think 'I would never do this'.

Talking to a therapist or friend. Obviously not every system has one, let alone one that believes in DID, however it can help to put down all your symptoms and have someone validate this. As a heads up though it can backfire, so I would only do this with someone you trust, stay safe okay?

[hangovercurse]

I’d Drop it All for You

Pictures of you and Pete are spread all over the internet, causing a whirlwind of hate to enter your social media.

Request: “Pete content please! anything !!! smut fluff whatever”

Pete x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, depictions of depression and anxiety

A/N: *Insert normal spiel about respecting A.G. and only using her for plot purposes. No harm intended.* Also I wrote most of this after a meeting with my therapist so... enjoy :) (He’s so cute in this gif I wanna kiss his face)

Word Count: 1820

You weren’t one of those people who loved being the center of attention. You knew that being in the spotlight also meant constantly living under a microscope, and you decided a long time ago that that was not for you.

But you were lucky enough to work as an assistant art director at just 24. You were hoping that The King of Staten Island, your newest project, would help get your name out into the professional world. But that wasn’t the only thing to come out of the film.

It happened unexpectedly, you showed up on set the first day, ready to do whatever the art director required of you. You couldn’t help but be slightly distracted by the lead actor and writer, Pete Davidson. He was so kind and funny, and he wasn’t uptight like everyone else.

After a few hours of filming, he came up to you, introducing himself. He said he “wanted to get to know everyone working on the project,” but you didn’t see him introducing himself to anyone else. You two started talking during breaks. Then he started sitting with you at lunch. Then he was asking for your number.

In a matter of weeks he was asking you out to dinner, taking you to a cozy restaurant that you absolutely adored. He walked you home, his hand grazing yours until you intertwined your fingers.

It was all very romantic, so when Pete asked if he could take you on another, you obviously said yes. Flash forward two weeks and he finally got the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend, even though you were both exclusively seeing each other already.

After filming ended 2 months later, you were still working on the film in post, which meant you had an excuse to stay  in Staten Island with Pete. After about 2 weeks in post, you spent more nights in his bed than your hotel’s.

Nearly 6 months later and you were happier than ever. You were splitting your time between your small apartment in the Bronx and Pete’s basement apartment. Pete introduced you to most of his friends, and you introduced him to yours.

But other than your small circles of friends, you kept your relationship fairly quiet. Pete doesn’t have social media and yours is strictly professional, so there are no pictures of you two together. You weren’t hiding each other, you loved each other, you just had no reason to tell tabloids. And you were perfectly happy with that.

Which made it so much worse when various news sites had pictures of you two holding hands. Had they been anyone else you would’ve thought they were cute, walking along the South Beach oceanside at night.

Pete had been in the SNL studio all day when the pictures were released, while you were in his apartment, trying your best to focus on the photoset in front of you. The production team wanted the film to scream “teen romance,” which basically entails subtle pink undertones and a higher saturation. But you couldn’t quite get the coloring right, probably because you weren’t actually focusing on the colors.

You sighed, looking at the time and realizing that Pete won’t be back until sometime after 2am, which was a whole 5 hours away. You let out a huff, pushing away from the desk and making your way to Pete’s closet and searching for one of his hoodies. They always smelled like him (and weed), so it was a comfort to you.

You crashed onto the bed, finding the phone that you had tossed there a few hours earlier. Turning it on you were surprised by the number of notifications you were getting. You knew the photos had surfaced but you weren’t expecting this.

Your Instagram was blowing up with new follows, likes, and comments. It was kind of exciting at first until you started reading some of the comments.

I mean, we knew he would downgrade from Ari, but this is like… really far down.

This girl really thinks she’s special just bc Pete’s dating her. Hun he could do so much better

Who is she?!? Literally no one.

Someone needs to show her how to dress

That hairstyle is not it honey

Pete Davidson is dating YOU??? He could do sooo much better

Ari was prettier sorry not sorry

The entire comment section on your last post, a picture of you on the set of your latest film, was pretty much the same. There were some nice comments, but a lot of mean ones.

And you couldn’t help it, you couldn’t stop looking at them. It felt so cliché, but it was like all of your deepest insecurities about being with Pete were thrown out on the table.

You knew that Pete had a fairly large following, and that a lot of people had really strong feelings about him. You had expected that if and when your relationship went public you would have a lot of people watching you, scrutinizing you. But you didn’t care because Pete was worth it.

Now you weren’t so sure. It wasn’t that you couldn’t handle people talking bad about you, because you definitely could, even if it hurt. You just weren’t expecting the amount of people comparing you to Ariana or saying that Pete could do so much better.

And it only bothered you so much because you felt it too. Your inner demons loved to remind you that Pete had dated Ariana fucking Grande and now he’s dating you. Anyone could see an obvious downgrade.

You turned your phone off and threw it on the opposite side of the bed, trying to think positive thoughts. “I am in control of my own thoughts and emotions. I am catching my negative thoughts and fixing them.” You murmured your therapist’s mantra to yourself, but it was too late. The thoughts had already taken hold of your mind.

Your eyes started to water as you could feel the heavy feeling in your chest set in. You pulled the hood over your head, pulling the straps to hide as much of your face as possible, and pulling your knees to your chest. You laid like that for a while, tears falling as doubts ran through your head. Once you had effectively exhausted your thoughts, you went numb. Your tears had stopped, but you couldn’t move. This wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling, but it sure wasn’t pleasurable.

There was a sort of buzzing throughout your body, almost like the feeling when your foot falls asleep, but everywhere. It seemed to block out your sound, as you didn’t hear the basement door open. You only knew that Pete was home when he sat beside you on the bed, pulling the hood off your face.

“There’s my beautiful girl.” He smiled at you. You tried your best to fake one back, but you honestly couldn’t find the energy. Pete pulled you so you were sitting up, back pressed against his front. His arms wrapped around your middle as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “What’s goin on?” He murmured against your skin.

“Did you see them?” You asked, your voice quiet and hoarse.

Pete let out a sigh, “Yeah, I saw them.” He paused, his hold on you getting tighter, like he was making sure you couldn’t leave. “I’m sorry baby. I know you didn’t want it to be a whole big thing.”

You turned your head to face him, “It’s not that. I really don’t mind that people know. We weren’t trying to hide anything.”

He smiled, “Yeah, I know I just- it was nice having this to ourselves.”

He wanted to hide you. He’s embarrassed of you.

Your inner dialogue never seemed to shut up.

You turned away from Pete, trying to hide the tears forming in your eyes. “Yeah.” You whispered.

“What’s wrong, you’re still upset.” He rocked you in his arms, kissing the top of your head. You shrugged in response, not trusting yourself to talk. “You can talk to me, y’know.”

You nodded, leaning further into Pete’s chest. “People found my Instagram.” You murmured, looking down and tracing the arrow tattoo on his hand.

“Whaddya mean? I thought it was public?” He furrowed his eyebrows.

You sighed, wishing you hadn’t said anything. “Yeah, it is. But after all the articles people started following me and shit.”

“I would ask how that’s a problem but I deleted my Instagram so I can’t really talk.” You could tell he was trying to make you feel better, but you couldn’t seem to get out of your haze.

You shook your head, deciding to drop the matter. “It’s not, I’m just being overdramatic.” You sighed, putting on a fake smile and facing him fully. “Wanna watch a movie?” You asked, trying to change the topic.

He gave you the I-know-you’re-bullshitting-me look, which made you look down. “Something’s bothering you, Y/N. And you’re trying to pretend it doesn’t because you think your feelings aren’t valid, but they are.” He tilted his head, trying to meet your eyes that were still trained on the bedsheets below you.

“Where’d you learn that one?” You chuckled half-heartedly.

“Rehab part 2” he smiled, hand coming to your jaw to tilt your head up. “C’mon, talk to me. I wanna help.”

You huffed, moving towards the opposite side of the bed where your phone laid. You opened it, finding your Instagram, and showing him the comments. His eyebrows furrowed as he scrolled through the comments. When he decided he’d had enough he put your phone down, grabbing your waist and lifting you onto his lap so you were essentially straddling him.

He leaned his forehead against your own, your noses touching. “That’s all bullshit, you know that, right?”

You looked down, biting your lip. “Y/N you’re the most amazing, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, okay? I’m in love with you, not anyone else.” Pete’s eyes were searching yours, trying to figure out what was going on in your head.

“I know.” You sighed, “It’s just hard to be with you and not compare myself to her. And then all these people started to do it too, and they kept saying that you could do so much better and you can. So, I dunno I guess I just kind of spiraled.”

Pete captured your lips in a long, passionate kiss. “Y/N. There is literally no better than you. I can’t do better because you are the best woman I have ever loved. “

You pulled Pete in for another kiss. “Thank you, Pete. I love you.”

“I love you too. If this happens again, I want you to call me. I don’t care what I’m doing, I’d drop it all for you.” You smiled, sitting in the arms of the guy you loved. The thoughts didn’t just magically go away, but for a brief moment in time, you were happy.

[celestialrry]

nerves

4.8k

HELLLLO IM WRITING THIS INTRO AND POSTING THIS WHILE FALLING ASLEEP SO ILL POST ALL THE DETAILS ADN ADD THIS TO MU MASTERLIST LATER I LOVE TOU ALL THANK YOU FOR FOLOWING AND REBLOGGIN KISSES FOT YOU ALL (this is like right after release of hs1 harry I think hope you enjoy mwah)

summary: Actress!Y/N goes onto a talk show, and the host has a surprise for her.

warnings: cursing, kinda sorta an anxiety attack?

Y/N was nervous.

This would only be the 5th talk show she’s ever gone on alone after being in the spotlight for a few years when her acting career took off. She started off with indie films and soon made her way to the red carpet, working with esteemed actors and actress’s she could only ever dream of meeting. It was pure bliss.

Of course, fame came with other struggles like hate from the media and random people on twitter, but at the end of the day she was so grateful she had the opportunity to be in the business. She loved getting into a character, finding out what makes them click, and fully emerging herself in whatever film she’s in. At the moment, she was promoting her new film, and being the lead, she had gone on a few talk show’s by herself, but they never failed to make her sick to her stomach. Having no one to turn to when it gets awkward, even not having body heat by her side in front of a live audience and a professional host made her body rack with goosebumps.

“Miss L/N?” 

Her head turned towards the door of the dressing room she had been sitting in for 15 minutes alone, trying to get her nerves down. “Yes?’ She responded flashing a forced smile to the assistant standing in the door way. “They’re ready for you.” She nodded her head and stood up, brushing the non-existent dust off her long dress and tumbled a bit on her heels to follow the assistant that was already walking towards the side stage. 

They instructed her to wait until her name was called, then walk onto stage and take a seat and have the show progress. So Y/N stood there, biting her bottom lip that was coated with clear gloss and her arms crossed around her waist, her heel covered toe tapping the floor in anticipation. 

“Now welcome our very special, and gorgeous guest, Y/N L/N!” She heard Jimmy Kimmel announce and took a short breath before stepping through the automatically opening curtains. She smiled and waved at the people sitting in the audience, happy to see people supporting her, and greeted Jimmy before taking a seat on the loveseat closest to his desk.

“Y/N! Welcome, how are you feeling tonight?” He flashed a comforting smile at her. 

She chuckled a bit due to her inability to not laugh in uncomfortable situations. “I’ll be honest with you Jimmy,” She said, adjusting herself in the seat. “M’ pretty nervous.”

“Nervous?” He asked. “Now, why would 2 time Emmy Nominee Miss Y/N L/N be nervous?” Jimmy teased.

Her eyes fell to the floor and her cheeks heated up before looking back at him. “Because,” She dragged out. “It’s always nerve-racking being on live TV.”

He just nodded and made a joke about feeling the same even though he does this every week.

“How are you feeling tonight?” She asked.

He smiled before resting his arms on his desk. “I’m feeling good, I have a surprise for you later, but I’m supposed to ask the questions now, will you let me?”

“Of course I will.” She smiled back.

Y/N met Jimmy the first year she really became “famous” and he had always been her favorite late-night talk show host just because he was never invasive or creepy. Her standards for hosts were quite low at this point. They continued on, promoting her new movie and such before he settled back in his seat. 

“So.” He said.

“So.” She said back, raising a brow.

“I hate to ask you this, but I honestly am curious myself,” He began, and her anxiety creeped up just a bit. “Now, we dug through your old interviews, and it seems in every single one, when asked if you had a celebrity crush, your answer was Harry Styles?”

She simply nodded, her cheeks heating up again, and a small smile creeping onto her face at his name. 

“I see that smile, Y/N.” Jimmy said, and she let out a laugh, her smile now wide.

“So, do you mind telling us why you like him so much, or should I say love him so much?” His brow raised.

Y/N laughed a bit more, just at her nerves, and took a breath. “Um, he’s always been such an inspiration for me to actually chase my career, I mean I knew him from when he was on X-Factor to be honest. Binged that show all the time when I was in middle school and to see a boy just 2 years older than me just go straight into being in one of the biggest boy-bands in the world was insane. He’s just so passionate about what he does and I admire him for that. Uh- from what I can tell he’s just very charming, sweet, funny, caring, and…” She trailed off her rant, biting her bottom lip just a tad.

“And?”

“He’s incredibly attractive.” She finished a smile on her face as she glanced at the floor again.

“Understandable. I think he’s a good looking man myself, met him a few times and got flustered,” Jimmy jokes before looking at Y/N. “What if I told you he was the surprise I had for you?”

Her brows furrow as she looks at the man sitting across from her. “What? Do you mean like a video-” She feels a tap on her shoulder. 

Y/N turns around, still massively confused, and then she sees him.

Harry standing in a simple black suit and white button up, only a few of the buttons actually buttoned and her jaw drops. “Hello.” He says, smiling at her.

Her eyes are wide and she looks like a dear in headlights before her face falls into her hands, elbows resting on her knees, her breath erratic. “No, this isn’t- no. He’s not here.” She says into her hands and the crowd laughs. Everyone laughs. 

“M’a bit offended you think I’m not really here, love.” Harry grins, and she pulls her face out of her shaking hands to see him.

She opens her mouth to say something and nothing comes out. 

Harry Styles, her celebrity crush since the ripe age of 14, a crush thats lasted 8 years being 22 now, and she’s only seen him on screens her entire life. “Fuck.” Was all she can say. He laughs a bit at her starstruck appearance and turns to Jimmy. “She’s not normally like this, right?”

“Right.” The host jokes, looking back at the girl on the couch, and his smile diminishes a bit. Her eyes are watering and she’s trying to keep her composure but her bottom lip is trembling and Jimmy’s now worried he’s about to have a sobbing woman on live TV.

“You okay Y/N?” Jimmy asks and her head quickly turns to him and then back to Harry. “I-fuck, I’m sorry.” She tries to laugh it off. Tries not to think about how the man she’s loved even before she knew what love truly was, was standing in front of her right now. 

“Don’t be sorry.” Harry says, slightly frowning but trying to keep a happy face. He’s standing in front of a girl he’s adored ever since he watched her first movie, for Christs sake, and she’s silently about to break down in front of him, because of him. 

Before he can even properly introduce himself, she’s standing on her heels, wobbling a bit, and looking up at him. “Can I hug you?” She mouths, not wanting her question to be picked up on the mic on the back of her dress and before her mouth even closes he’s stepping towards her, big arms wrapping around her waist. Her arms find their way around his chest and her head is resting on his shoulder and her eyes are squeezed shut and she’s mouthing “Oh my fucking god. Oh my god.” Without realizing she’s facing the audience who laugh at her inability to not fangirl. His head dips as he hugs her, reveling in her touch, and then she’s pulling away, remembering they’re on live TV and she can give him a proper hug backstage after this is over when they don’t have to worry about appearances. 

She’s still reeling when his hands slide off her waist and he sticks his hand out and says “It’s so nice to meet you.” She takes his calloused hand in hers and says “Same to you.” Blinking away unshed tears.

“Shall we sit then?” He asks and she looks at Jimmy admiring the moment before back at Harry. “You’re staying?” She blurts out before shutting her mouth abruptly. 

“If you want me too.” He grins that grin she’s always been infatuated by and she nods, maybe too quickly. “Of course I do- yes,” She coughs. “Yeah, uh, please, let’s.”

They both plant themselves on the loveseat, Y/N taking the spot in which she was before and Harry sitting on the other end, keeping a distance between the two. She recomposes herself and sits up. Harry looks at her for a moment before looking back at Jimmy. 

“How are y’Jimmy?” He asks.

“I’m doing well, proud of myself for inviting you, you’re the one person I’ve seen make Y/N go absolutely speechless here,” Jimmy jokes and Y/N groans and smiles, leaning her top half on the arm of the chair, her face in her hands before sitting back up. “How about you, Harry?”

“M’doing well, was very excited to see Y/N here and I’d hopefully say it’s the same for her.” He smiles looking at her, dimples flashing.

“Yeah!” Her voice squeaks. “You’re right. It’s the same for me. I-” She cut’s herself off from saying she’s shitting her pants at the moment. Figuratively, of course, but it’s not very appropriate. She still can’t believe this. Twitter is going to have a field day talking about how flustered Y/N was at this moment.  

“Have something you want to say, Y/N? To Harry, more specifically?” Jimmy asks.

“Um,” She begins, locking eyes with Harry. “Did you hear, what I said, um, before you walked out here?” 

The green eyed man nods. 

Her hands start shaking again and she awkwardly laughs. “I’m sorry you heard that.” She apologizes. 

“Why are you apologizing?” Harry asks her, tilting his head and Y/N was going to pass out. “I’m glad you think all those things about me, plus, it’s a nice ego booster to hear that you think I’m ‘incredibly attractive’.” He chuckles a bit, but truthfully he was happy his celebrity crush feels the same way about him.

She just laughs back and mumbles a “Thanks.” Before Jimmy starts up a conversation about whatever was going on at the moment.

Jimmy and Harry start talking about something and Y/N nods her head and laughs when it’s appropriate but she couldn’t process anything. Her hands were interlocked, shaking in her lap, and all she could feel was Harry. Harry sitting next to her, Harry breathing next to her, Harry waving his hands around while he spoke in front of her. It was all too much. 

Suddenly his knee lightly knocked against her own. She abruptly turned to look at him, but he was still looking at Jimmy. So she assumed it was a mistake, until it happened again, and this time when her eyes looked to him, his met her’s and he gently and subtly moved closer to their thighs were touching. Y/N let the leg that was crossed over her other relax and fall to the couch, only her ankles crossed, and she swore she could hear his breath stop for a moment, but it was too quiet to be sure.

A few moments after they both had gained the courage to barely revel in each others touch, Jimmy was ending the show. Y/N doesn’t remember what she said or did before the camera cut off, she vaguely remembers waving to the audience but she’s not completely sure. 

And then it’s over- just like that.

“This was so fun Jimmy, thank you for inviting me on.” Harry said, standing up (reluctantly) and going to give Jimmy a hug. Y/N on the other hand was watching the interaction and it all hit her like a wave again. Harry fucking Styles was standing in front of her. The men both turn to her as she stands up and she gives a weak smile and mumbles “I forgot I needed to text my assistant, m’sorry I’ll be back.” before speed walking behind the curtain and booking it to her dressing room. She quickly flips the “Do Not Disturb” side of the sign on the door to show and closes the door behind her, her breathing accelerating. 

She barely makes it to the couch before bursting out in tears.

Y/N couldn’t really put a finger on whether or not they were tears of joy, sadness, embarrassment, or a combination of all 3. She’s pretty sure it’s the latter though. She slips her heels off and lies on the couch, her hands over her face with not so silent cries as she tries to calm herself. 

Meanwhile, both Harry and Jimmy sensed that Y/N wasn’t just going to text her assistant. “Do you think- do you think I said something maybe?” Harry quietly asks the late night host as they walk behind the curtain and into a quieter hallway backstage. Jimmy simply shakes his head before locking eyes with Harry. “Have you seen any of the videos where she talks about you, Harry?”

He shakes his head no and the older man pulls out his phone, doing a quick scroll of his email before finding video file and opening it. “A couple of interns here made this combination of all the times she talked about you in her interviews.”We were gonna play it as you were coming out but her manager said it would be too embarrassing.” Was the only preface Jimmy gave before clicking play.

Y/N stood in an elegant emerald colored gown just off the red carpet, all done up for her first big movie premiere. An interviewer stands in front of her, holding a mic that the woman was moving between herself and Y/N. “So Miss L/N, we need some juicy secrets from the “It-Girl” herself. Who’s your celebrity crush?” Y/N looks at the floor, a shy smile on her face as the quietly says “Harry Styles.” The interviewer’s eyes widen and she chuckles a bit. “I feel you honey, what do you like most about him?” Y/N purses her lips slightly before speaking again. “Um, everything? I think he has a really good heart.” The interviewer makes a joke about how she likes his eyes instead and Y/N laughs, but anyone could tell it was forced. 

The screen begins to play another clip. 

Y/N is sitting on a couch with her co-stars of a movie she did a year ago, dressed in a classy blush colored suit, and they’re all playing a game with some other talk show host. “Let’s see who knows Y/N the best now, shall we?” The host asks, and looks down at the cards in his hand. “Who is her celebrity crush?” And almost immediately all of her friends were jotting down their answers on a white board. “That was fast,” The host laughs, as does everyone else. “Okay everyone, flip it around.” ‘Harry Styles’ was written on every single board. “Oh my god.” She smiles wide out of embarrassment and puts her face in her hands. 

It reminds Harry of what she did when she first saw him.

“Y/N! Looks like you’re absolutely smitten with Harry Styles, aren’t you?” The host asks, and before she could even open her mouth, a co-star of hers was already speaking. “She’d play his songs in her trailer in the morning, full volume, and sing them as loud as she could. It was a good way to wake us all up.” He jokes, and everyone laughs at that. “Whenever he’d post a photo on instagram, or tweet something, I’d see tears in her eyes.” Another co-star speaks up. The audience laughs again and she looks to them. ‘I’m serious! Y/N absolutely adores him.” By this time Y/N’s face was out of her hands and she was sinking into the couch. “Are you embarrassed, Y/N/?” The host jokes “Of course not, well I didn’t want to get absolutely exposed, but I’m not embarrassed to be a fan, could never be embarrassed to be a fan of him, he’s… he’s amazing.”

The phone then fades into yet another clip.

This time, Y/N is sitting in a stool, doing the Wired Autocomplete Interview, and she tears off the second paper of the question, “Is Y/N L/N…” . “Is Y/N L/N,” she reads and the paper catches after the word “dating” is revealed. She looks up at the screen, a twinkle in her eyes as she shoots a close-mouthed smile at the camera. She turns back to the board and rips the paper off, struggling a bit and laughing, until it’s revealed. “Is Y/n L/N dating… Harry Styles”  She bursts out laughing, her free hand clutching her stomach.

Harry frowns a but at this, and he didn’t feel like thinking more about why.

 “Um,” She begins, “Sorry, I just- do I really talk about him, that much? S’a bit concerning.” She mumbles to herself. “Yeah, no, I’m not dating Harry Styles, he would never. Though, I like how people think it could be a possibility, thats quite funny. I’ll take the… hidden compliment, is that even the right phrase?”

The screen goes to another clip but Jimmy pauses it there and turns off his phone, turning to Harry. “You didn’t do anything Harry, it’s just you being here, she’s probably overwhelmed and-“

“Mr. Kimmel? Jones needs you.” Someone calls out to him down the hall and Jimmy slips his phone in this pocket and sighs. “Sorry, gotta handle this, thank you, for coming.”

“It’s okay,” Harry assures him, “Thanks for having me.” And at that Jimmy rushes down the hall in search of Jones, and Harry stands in the same spot

Harry knows how much he means to his fans, he’s seen them sob at concerts, break down at meet and greets, and when they tell him how much they love him when they run into him on the street. He knows this. But this felt different, for some reason. Maybe it was the burning feeling in his chest when she laughed off how he would never be with her, for what particular reason he has no clue (or just doesn’t want to address it), or how he couldn’t help but pop a dimple when he heard she loves his music. He wasn’t sure.

What he was sure of though, is that he needed to speak to her again, hug her for longer, actually get to know Y/N. So he walked into the main back room, walking down different halls until he came across the one that read “Dressing Room #4” and Y/N’s name scribbled in messy handwriting on the white board underneath. He knocked a little rhythm, and waited.

Y/N was still crying, to put it lightly. Maybe hyperventilating was the right word, because she was breathing quite fast, and there was a steady stream of tears flowing down her cheeks. She heard the knocks and attempted to calm herself down a bit, yelling out a “One second!” Before wiping under her eyes and walking to open the door. “Eliana,” She began, ready to wave her assistant way (not that she didn’t adore her, but Y/N needed to be alone before talking about everything), “Can you come back in like 15 minutes, I’m sorry I just need to-”

Her mouth closed when she saw Harry outside of her door, his small smile quickly fading into a frown as he took in her state. “Y/N I wanted to- are you okay?” He asked, stepping a bit closer, trying not to push any boundaries. When she didn’t respond and he saw her bottom lip quiver a bit, his chest clenched. “Can I come in? Can we talk?” He gently asked, eyes running over her puffy eyes, tear stained cheeks, and disheveled appearance. 

She nodded and he walked in, and she gently shut the door behind him. He turned around to look at her and when his eyes met her’s, she couldn’t take it anymore. She let out a gut-wrenching sob and her face fell in her hands as she shook her head. “I-I’m so sorry, I’m sorry.” She choked out and he stepped towards her, his hand coming to rest on her elbow. “Y/N, please, don’t apologize.” And without thinking he took the last step towards her and wrapped his arms around her, holding her firmly, one of his hands cradling the back of her head. Her hands fell from her face and she held him back, arms wrapping tightly around his torso yet again.

As she cried into his chest, he mumbled a soft, “Breathe for me, love.”, and she tried to get her breathing to match his own deep breathes. “I’m sorry,” Y/N says for the millionth time. “I told you to stop apologizing, Y/N, you haven’t done anything wrong.” He frowns to himself, that burning feeling in his chest again. She reluctantly pulls away, and his hands remain on her arms as her own come up to wipe the tears flowing out of her eyes. 

“You didn’t sign up to be here and have to deal with a crying fan, Harry.” Y/N sighs, finally looking up at him. 

“Hey, I came because I wanted to see you, I’ve seen your movies and I think everything you’re absolutely incredible at what you do, and when Jimmy called asking if I could come to surprise you I jumped at the chance to finally meet you. I know what I signed up for.” He says, his thumbs rubbing the skin of her arms gently.

At his words she let out another sob, her shaking hands coming up to cover her face for a moment yet again. Harry’s eyes widened, he was telling the honest truth, and he didn’t think he said anything wrong. Y/N however, was seeing in person, how king he truly was, and it was just another reality check that the Harry she’s loved for so long really is the same in real life; it was too much to handle. “Thank you,” She sniffles, looking up at him again, meeting his piercing green eyes. “I just, I’ve adored you for years, still do, and I never thought I’d meet you, even after I started getting ‘known’, I always thought you were like, too perfect to be real, and now you’re here and you’re real, and y’know when you meet a celebrity who seems so sweet in interviews and all that but they turn out to be an absolute prick? It’s not like that, you’re the same person I’ve loved over a screen, I- you’ve been my inspiration for fucking years and I don’t know. It’s just a lot.” 

Now her hands were on his arms and they stood there for a moment, just looking at each other.

“M’not perfect, Y/N.” Harry says softly. Y/n chuckles a bit, glancing to the side before meeting his eyes yet again. “I know, I know the ‘nobody’s perfect’ crap, but if you’re insistent on it, then I think you’re the closest thing there is to perfect, Harry.”

His cheeks turn pink at her confession, and a small smile weaves its way onto his face. “Thank you,” He finally says, before bringing her into another hug, this time her arms wrapped around his neck, and he bends down a bit to hold her tighter. “For everything you said, seriously, you’ve got no idea how much it means t’me.” He admits, still reveling in her touch. She slowly pulls away, noting in her head that he never seems to be the one to let go first. “Of course, wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.” She smiles weakly, still drained from all the emotions flowing through her. He just smiles at that, before his hand drags down her arm and he hold her hand, wordlessly pulling her over to sit on the couch. 

He doesn’t let go of her hand as they sit quite close facing each other. “Do y’wanna hear a secret? It might make you feel better.” He suggests, cursing himself for being willing to do anything to see her smile fully. “I wish I could lie and say that it’s something I wouldn’t know, but I think I know a bit too much about you.” She says, letting out a small laugh, and he does too. “I promise you don’t know this.” He mumbles.

“Okay, go for it.” She says, holding his hand a bit tighter. 

“Well, after you bolted here, Jimmy showed me a few of your interviews, and I wanted to tell you that you’re my celebrity crush too.”

Her jaw drops and her eyes widen, a face that looks eerily similar to when she saw him for the first time just an hour prior. “You saw my interviews?” She gasps, her voice cracking at the embarrassment of him seeing her shamelessly confessing her love for him about a million times. It was safe to say she didn’t hear the rest of his confession.

“That’s what you’re focusing on here?” Harry laughs and raises a brow at Y/N.

“What else is there to focus on,” She groans, taking her hand out of his and burying her face into her hands yet again. “I can’t believe Jimmy showed you that, I’m never coming on this show again.” 

Harry grins, a dimple popping as he gently wraps his arms around her wrists, pulling her hands off her face. “Did y’hear what I said after that?” He asks softly, his eyes bring into her own. She shakes her head “no” in response and he takes a quick breath before telling her yet again. 

“I said, you’re my celebrity crush too. I’ve watched everything you’ve been in and I think y’are absolutely amazing, and I would be lying if I said I didn’t think you’re beautiful, inside and out.”

Y/N’s jaw drops for the thousandth time that night. 

 “You’re fucking with me.” She deadpans, her face blank and mind swimming with emotions.

He frowns and squeezes her hands. “M’not, swear to you.”

She shakes her head in denial. There’s no way she was Harry Style’s celebrity crush. Not in a million years would she ever think those words would be spoken, much less even thought of.

“You don’t believe me?” Harry asks, his head tilting a bit to the side.

“I believe tha you’re just too nice and you feel bad for me, so that’s why you’re telling me this.” Y/N admits to him, a sad smile on her face.

“Really?” He asks, letting go of her hands and bringing one of his own to his pocket. 

“Really. I appreciate it, I do, but you don’t have to try and make me feel less humiliated, I think we’ve already passed the point of no return.” Y/N says, laughing a bit.

“Mmm, okay,” He smirks. “Well that just won’t do. May I have your number?” 

She raises a brow as he pushes his phone into her hands, already pulled up on a new contact. She types in her number and “#1 fan” in the name and hand the phone back to him. Harry laughs when he sees the contact name and saves it to his phone, then putting it back in his pocket. 

“What was that?” 

“What was what?” Harry muses, a teasing glint in his eye.

She purses her lips. “Why did you just ask for my number?”

“So I can contact you of course,” Harry smiles. “How else am I supposed to set up another date with you?”

“Another?” Y/N questions, her lips turning up.

“’m a gentleman of course, would never ask you out on a first date over the phone,” Harry calmly explains. “So would you do me the honor of accompanying me to dinner tomorrow night?”

Y/n hesitates, unsure if this was still an ask out of pity. “You can meet me at my house, of course if you’re comfortable, and I’ll order us takeout to eat on my porch.” He continues, getting more exciting as he imagines how the date would go. 

“What makes you think I’d say yes?” She teases and his mouth gapes. 

“Oh fuck off.”

[peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology]

63 and 66 with richkid!tom?

Alright guys, here's the first post for the Summer of Love, I hope everyone enjoys! Remember I'm accepting requests until the end of summer so be sure to keep sending them in! Love you guys xx

Making it Worse

63 - “We are not cuddling until the AC is fixed.”

66 - “Do you look this good every morning?”

Pairing: Rich Kid! Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: The AC goes out, Tom thinks he can fix it himself

Masterlist

Summer of Love

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(y/n) groaned as she woke up, kicking the sheets off her burning body, hoping the cold air would bring her back to a comfortable temperature. Only the air wasn’t nearly as cold as she’d hoped and didn’t really provide her with any relief at all. Tom was woken up by her stirring, an affectionate smile coming to his lips as he kissed her shoulder.

“Goodmorning,” he hummed.

“It’s so fucking hot,” she groaned, “Can you turn the fan on?”

“Alright but it’s gonna cost you,” he smirked, kissing her nose as he pushed himself out of bed. He flicked the ceiling fan on and opened the door, hoping the air flow would cool them off even faster, “There, it should start cooling off now.”

“Thank god,” she sighed, throwing her arm over her eyes dramatically, “I’m about to melt.”

He sat at her feet with a smile, “It’s really not that bad princess, you can take your clothes off if you’re too warm.”

“I know you’re just saying that to be a perve but it’s a good idea,” she sat up, pulling off his shirt and tossing it to the ground before she fell back onto the mattress.

“You come into my home, complaining constantly, tossing my designer clothes to the ground,” he scolded as he straddled her hips, “It’s quite rude you know?”

“I do that almost every night and you keep inviting me back.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he sighed, setting his hands on her bare stomach,

“You'd think I'd know the answer to that by now,” she smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He smiled, running a hand up her side before pressing his lips to hers. A giggle escaped her lips as her hands tangled in his hair, pulling his body in closer to hers. His hand moved upward, only to be stopped at her rib cage.

“Something wrong princess?” he smirked, tugging her bottom lip between his teeth.

She nodded, “Yeah, it's just hot. Maybe we could crank the AC until it gets cooled off?”

“Alright princess, I got it,” he teased, giving her one final kiss before ducking out of the room.

Tom found the thermometer in the hallway, which told him the AC was on, but the temperature was reading much higher than it should. With a frown he lowered the temperature and returned to the bedroom.

“I turned up the AC,” he hummed, plopping back down beside her.

“Are you sure? It doesn’t sound like it’s on…” (y/n) stood on the bed, raising her hand towards the vent above them, “I don’t feel any air.”

He frowned and stood, raising his own hand to see if he could feel anything, “I don’t feel anything either…”

“Fuck,” she groaned, “You need to call someone.”

He rolled his eyes, “I do not, look, why don’t you go take a nice cool shower and I’ll figure out what’s wrong okay? I promise it will be nice and cool by the time you’re done.”

“Okay…” she pursed her lips, “But if it’s not back on by the time I get out of the shower you’re calling someone.”

“It’ll be back on, don’t worry,” he pressed a kiss to her cheek, “In fact I’m sure I’ll be joining you in the shower in just a couple of minutes.”

“Alright, whatever you say Tommy.”

(y/n) took her time in the shower, only to be disappointed when Tom never came to join her. Eventually she had to exit the shower, and immediately was struck with the hot air she had been dreading. Tom sat on the edge of their bed, on the phone with who she hoped was some sort of repairman.

“Right, right, thank you, yeah, you too,” he hung up with a sigh, “Someone is coming to look at the ac.”

“Couldn’t fix it yourself huh?” she teased as she dug through the dresser for any clothes that might help her keep cool.

“I thought it would be best left to the professionals,” his arms wrapped around her waist, his head resting on her shoulder, “They’ll be here in an hour so we won’t have to suffer for long.”

“Thank god, can you let me get dressed now?”

“Why get dressed? You’ll stay cooler with nothing on.”

“In your dreams,” she poked his nose as she began pulling on her clothes, instantly he had his arms around her again, only to be pushed back away.

“Ah, I won’t be cheeky,” he promised as he reached for her again, “Come give me some love.”

“No way, it’s too hot,” she shook her head, “I’m gonna go lay in front of the fan and you’re going to keep your hands to yourself.”

“I’ll lay with you, we can put on a movie while we wait,” he followed behind her as she moved to the living room, “I’m not trying to be cheeky love, I’ll keep it PG.”

she declared as she fell onto the couch, pointing to the opposite end of the sectional, “You stay in your bubble over there.”

He glared at her and let out an annoyed huff, “Fine, you stay in here with the fan, I’ll go fix the AC.”

“Tom you already tried, you shouldn’t keep messing with it.”

“You said we can’t cuddle until the AC is fixed, I want to cuddle now, so I’m going to fix the AC now,” he pressed a kiss to her cheek, “I will be right back.”

“Okay…”

She watched him disappear out the back door, just hoping he wouldn’t make the situation any worse. Tom’s privileged upbringing hadn’t led him to being very handy, so she had a hard time believing he’d have any chance at fixing the unit. Her jaw nearly hit the floor when she heard the vents coming buzzing back to life. She jumped from her seat on the couch, running under the vent in hopes of being blasted by the cold air.

“Oh shit,” she swore as the back door slid open.

“I did it,” Tom beaned proudly, “I think I’ve earned a kiss at the very least.”

She pursed her lips, hating to burst his bubble, “Tom it’s blowing hot air.”

His face fell instantly, “What?”

“Come over here, there’s hot air blowing out of the vents.”

“Oh no,” he groaned and dragged himself across the room, “W-Well maybe it’ll cool down after a second.”

“I think we should just turn it off.”

“I don’t know how to do that,” he blushed, “I’ll go look at it again…”

“No, no, no, you aren’t touching anything else.”

With the hot air blowing constantly the inside of the house quickly became too hot for the couple, leaving them to hide out on the couch until the repairmen arrived.

“How long?” (y/n) fanned her face as Tom returned to the balcony, two glasses of lemonade in hand, “Please tell me they’re almost done.”

“They said it’ll be a few days.”

“Days?!”

He nodded, “Yeah, they said they’ll have to special order a couple parts, but they’ve got the hot air to stop blowing at least.”

“Tom, we can’t live like this,” she groaned, “I’ll die, I will literally melt.”

“I’m not gonna make you stay in the heat princess, we’ll go stay in a hotel for a few days alright?” he assured, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “Come help me pack up, it’ll be fun.”

She dragged herself off the patio and back into the house, “At least they got the hot air to stop blowing.”

He nodded, his cheeks dusting pink in remembrance, “Yeah, they uh, said we actually made it a lot worse, it probably would have been just a little repair if we had just left it alone.”

“We? That was all you babe,” she teased, wrapping her arms around his neck with a smirk, “You’re not really much of a handyman.”

“It was both of us, I wouldn’t have kept messing with it if you hadn’t refused to cuddle with me.”

“Don’t turn this around on me just because you had a temper tantrum,” she teased before stepping away.

“Oh I’m so sorry I tried to show you my love and affection,” he rolled his eyes as he pulled their suitcases from the closet, “I’ll keep it to myself in the future.”

“You’re such a diva,” she laughed, “I’ll make it up to you alright? We can go to the hotel and order a bunch of room service and cuddle for the rest of the day. How does that sound?”

“I’ll tell you what princess,” he grabbed her by the waist pulling her flush to him with a smirk, “You throw in dessert and you’ve got a deal.”

Her lips drew to a smile as she pressed her lips to his, “Deal.”

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Taglist:

@niallberry @spideyssunshine @namoreno @thevery-firstpage @outshineallthestars @roseke @zspideyy @emistrash @tomsirishgirlx @andreagf956 @peachyafshawn

[cooliogirl101]

Continuing off my last post, the sad thing is, after the whole Shamal getting sick incident, he tried so, so hard to just...not be attracted to her. And sure, he stopped hitting on her partly out of a sense of gratitude and burgeoning respect but also because he was like nope, nope, nope, if I let myself see her in even a remotely romantic way, I’m fucked. Nope, from now on she’s just a classmate, nothing else, our relationship is going to be purely professional. 

Anyway yeah, that backfired because Nana was like hey, now that he’s not being a repulsive, perverted creep, he can actually be pretty insightful and he’s been coming up with some really good ideas for our projects, cool let’s talk more about this. And it’s not like he could avoid her-- they were partners after all, they had to work together. 

(And if a tiny, minuscule part of him that felt thrilled that she was the one seeking him out for once...well, that was only a very small part of the reason why he’d never tried very hard to avoid her). 

At some point, it becomes pretty difficult to categorize their relationship as “purely workplace acquaintances” but he rationalizes that it couldn’t hurt to be friends. He had lots of friends (okay, he had some friends. A few) and he’d never fallen in love with any of them. There was no reason he should develop feelings for Nana Fujiwara either, no matter how brilliant and creative and hardworking and compassionate and wholeheartedly selfless and fiercely devoted to her friends and dedicated to doing the right thing she was. Right?

Four months before graduation, Nana surprises him on his birthday with a mosquito plushie the size of a dinner plate (“Custom-designed, because apparently not many parents want their kids walking around hugging giant, blood-sucking parasites”), two bottles of his favorite Italian wine, a large pizza (“Don’t worry, I left off the pineapple this time, just for you”), enough tiramisu to feed a dozen people, and about twenty movies shoved into a backpack. Shamal wakes up the next day on his couch with a pounding headache, a horrible neck cramp, and Nana’s head resting in his lap. 

He looks down at Nana’s sleeping face. She’s dressed in her favorite pajamas (aka an XXL Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles t-shirt she’d won at a raffle contest), her hair is a mess, she has dried drool on her face, and she’s clutching Shamal’s new mosquito plushie to her chest like a toddler with their favorite toy. There should’ve been absolutely nothing romantic or sexy about this situation. 

Shamal closes his eyes. 

I’m in trouble. 

(In retrospect, he’d probably been doomed from the moment Nana looked down at the guy who’d just vomited all over her and decided, I’m not leaving until I make sure he’s okay. It had just taken him another four years to realize it.)

~~

“Nana, do you have a moment?” Shamal asked. 

“Sure, what’s up?” Nana asked, looking up from her book. At the sight of him, her eyes widened slightly. “Wow, look at you, all dressed up! And I’m pretty sure this is the first time I’ve seen you shave,” she teased. “Was starting to think you didn’t have a razor.”

“Had to dig around for it but I found it in the end,” Shamal replied, mouth curving up into a slight smile.

“So what’s the occasion?” Nana inquired. “It’s not every day I see you wear a suit.” 

“No, but I wanted to look good for--” He looked away, cheeks tinted a slight pink. “Never mind.” 

“Okay, now I’m really curious. What’s going on?” Nana asked. Shamal took a deep breath. 

“Nana, I was wondering if--” He was cut off by the phone ringing. Shamal exhaled, a look of frustration crossing his face, before reaching over to pick the phone up. 

“What is it?” He asked impatiently, then paused. “Yeah she’s here, who is this?”

There was another, more prolonged pause, and then Shamal handed the phone over to her, a curiously blank look on his face.

“He says he’s your...husband,” Shamal stated in a strange voice, expression unreadable. His gaze flickered to her left hand. “I didn’t know you were married.”

“What?” Nana asked, bewildered. She then let out an exasperated sigh as she raised the phone to her ear and was promptly greeted by the sound of Iemitsu’s slightly panicked voice asking her how she would put out a grease fire that had consumed half the kitchen, hypothetically of course. 

“Sorry, I should take this,” she apologized. “I’ll talk to you later?”

Shamal didn’t respond for a moment. Then he smiled, hair falling over his eyes as he ducked his head.

“Of course,” he said quietly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Nana.” 

[ha-hatdog]

daisuke kambe hcs

- what is it like to be dating daisuke kambe/domestic life with daisuke kambe

i hope you don't mind but i slapped two requests together because they were nearly similar. since i am making one post with two requests, i'll try to make this longer. i hope you enjoy this

requested by anon (i just turned my anon ask and i'll just go ahead and presume you want to be anon hehe sorry about that) : Hi, I saw your post. 😳 I just wanna say goodluck to your writing! and I'll be looking forward to them in the future. ❤ (Your anon asks aren't on btw. 😔) And for the request, it can be a headcanon or a short fic/scenario, whichever you like. :3 But can I please get soft/domestic Daisuke to his s/o (which is the reader)? Like, they're taking care of each other stuff. ❤👁👄👁

uwu thank you so much and i look forward to writing more stories for you

requested by @holdmejk : what it’s like to date daisuke 🥺

i wonder too how it would be like to date this rich man so here ya go

__

haru kato is the simple man, simple life

there is no way daisuke kambe can be considered the same. this is the very reason why haru hates the man with a burning passion

waking up with daisuke goes two ways - the normal soft wake up, or the after sex wake up

if you wake up normally, you will always find yourself on his chest, a hand over the small of your back and the other behind your head, pressing you close to him as if you were his leverage to the real world

you never get tired of seeing him peaceful and cute that you kiss him everywhere your lips can touch - his chest, his cheek, his nose, his forehead, but never his lips

daisuke loves waking up to your kisses but what really gets rid of his sleepiness is the annoyance he felt that you never kiss him on the lips

he will lift his head up from the pillow while holding your head and lean forward to capture your lips. no, he doesn't care about morning breath, he cares about your kisses

if you two had sex the night before, it's a different story because it's daisuke who always wakes up first this time around because you know, he tired the hell out of you

he runs his fingers through your matted tresses as the side of his head rested against his open palm, elbow proped up on his pillow

he loves how you look so happy and satisfied and peaceful. he admires your beauty silenty, a small smile on his lips

he'll try to go another round because he can't help himself when you look so enticing but you stop him because you were already so tired

you will drown in luxurious things. this daisuke kambe we are talking about. what did you expect?

you want it? you got it. you like it? you got it. you need it? you got it. your eyes looked at it a second too long? you got it

daisuke believes you deserve the best of the best so whatever you wanted, bam, something much better

flowers? you get a garden. chocolate? you get a factory. movies? you get a theater. cup noodles? you get a ramen shop or the actual cup noodles company. dress? you get your own clothing line that trumps over versace and gucci

oh you think you can stop daisuke from spoiling you just because you begged him and showed him your big doe eyes? he was tempted for sure but there is no way he'll be holding back, especially after seeing your big doe eyes (yup, that plan backfired)

one hard thing about dating a millionaire? you can't buy anything for him

you do not have the money to lavish him the same, and even if you did, it's stupid to assume daisuke can't afford the same things you plan on buying for him. maybe he'll buy something even better

so instead of spoiling him like he does to you, you buy him trinkets that remind you of him

daisuke has no clue as to why items could remind you of him but he still keeps everything you buy for him close to him like in his office so he can always see them

you bought daisuke a goofy looking bobble head and he put it on the dashboard of his super cool looking car and haru was like the hell is that

daisuke sped through the streets before haru could make a comment

daisuke trust you more than anyone. more than suzue, more than haru, more than himself, more than his credit card

that being said, you are the only one he allows to patch him up after a particularly rough day at work

he will literally drive all the way to your shared home while bleeding out, enter your shared room as more blood trailed his face and deadass say "Can you help me? My head is bleeding"

you scold him for being so reckless and for always giving you a heart attack whenever he comes home in that condition

he doesn't mind being lectured tho because he still gets to feel your soft touches and gets lots and lots of kisses from you

he doesn't get why you kiss his wounds after patching him up. like his wounds are dirty? it still hurts? what was the science behind it? he still won't get it even if you explain it to him but he'll take note for reference

when you get injured, you are obligated to tell daisuke that you are not severely hurt that he had to call the hospitals all around the world to come heal you

you had to snatch the phone from him at one point when he tried to contact professional surgeons from america after you scratched yourself from a bush

daisuke at least knows how to use the first aid kit and no matter how little your injury may be, he will always proceed with the basics because he's very worried about you (though his face doesn't show it), that your small wound would get infected, and then you'll be on your death bed saying your last words, and then he's kneeling on your grave -

you had no idea this is what goes on inside his head every time you get injured

he also kisses your wounds after patching them up. he still doesn't understand the reason as to why you and others do it, but he does it because you do it

daisuke doesn't allow you to move a muscle aftee he's done fixing your wounds. he acts as if you have a terminal disease and would check on you every five minutes when he's working at home and calls you every three minutes when doing police work (haru gets annoyed with that habit so you had a talk with him)

dates with daisuke is far from simple. you either go to the most expensive resorts or attractions in japan or you're going out of the country. yes, your dates are basically mini vacations

so that's the reason why whenever you two want to spend time together, you are in charge. you can't always go to malaysia and england every weekend. plausible when you're with daisuke but you're not having it

you try to make your dates as simple as it can be. like what regular couples would do like going to movies (he was irritated because he had to sit near other people because he only wants to be near you), hanging out in the mall ("No, Daisuke, don't you dare buy that Gucci bag for me, I just glanced at it - oh for fuck sake"), and eating food from stands (Daisuke was confused like where will you two sit so you can eat your food properly?)

you two went ice skating and you guided him as he wobbled on his skates. you never let go of him because the first time you let go of him so he can try to balance alone in the ice, he looked very worried and made grabby hands at you

he becomes better at skating after doing it so many times. you were a little jealous because he's better than you now

daisuke his whole life always had a professional chef make something for him and when he began dating you, he also began inviting other professional chefs to make something for you two

but as your relationship grew stronger, you began cooking for him and you made him feel so special and he couldn't react properly

sometimes he watches you cook and helps with the cutting (you stopped him when he cut himself), but most of the time he's at his office and you bring his food to him and he scolrs you because he wants to eat properly with you ay the dining table

bringing food to his office is a no no. eating together at the dining table and sharing stories together is a yes yes

you don't know if the food you make for him is good or bad to be honest because he always has a deadpan face and if it is bad he won't tell because he'll hurt your precious little feelings but he'll be blunt as hell if it was another person

don't even wish that daisuke will cook for you. don't get him wrong tho, he really wants to but he's been pampered a little too much that he can't distinguish onion from garlic. he just thinks garlic is an elderly onion lmao

so yeah, daisuke cannot cook

but he likes cleaning the dishes with you because he can spray you with water and he'll hear your giggles. you always break many plates when you clean dishes and always drenched in water after your little fight

having the same authority with his AI. you rarely use the AI unless absolutely necessary and you can communicate with daisuke through it. you always mess with daisuke and you'll say something to the AI like "dial haru" and AI will go like "contacting haru kato" daisuke will go "cancel dial" and then AI says "cancelling contact" and you'll say "dial haru again" and the cycle goes on

late night walks are common for you two. when he comes home earlier than he originally does, he will insist you to take a walk on his private property and if he's feeling extra generous, he'll let you take him outside and to the park or something

you can take him to the convenience, the gas station, the prison - as long as he's with you, he's fine

stargazing is part of the late night walks. he'll point at a star and you'll say what constallesation that star was part of

"do you want that star"

"no daisuke"

"i can buy it"

"you are not buying a star"

daisuke : (꒪-꒪) ⇨(¬､¬)

he loves kissing you on the lips. your lips and kisses were just so addicting and sweet that he can't find another better place to kiss you

plus your blush is too adorable. he smirks whenever you get flustered. add a soft embrace to the mix, and his heart melts

daisuke will always open the door for you. in cars, in restaurants (he'll pull your chair for you too), in anywhere

he won't let you open a door as long he's there with you cause he's a simp for you

he won't care about any other person trying to enter an establishment after you enter. he'll let go of the door handle and won't even turn if he hears a loud thump behind him

you know what else he loves? hand holding. daisuke always holds your hand whenever you're outside and will only let go if absolutely necessary like going to the comfort room

he likes playing with your fingers while you love tracing the lines on his palm. you'll probably make a cheesy joke that you can see him marrying you in his future and he goes ( ºΔº )

"how do you know i was planning to marry you?" ( ºΔº ) "can you really read palms?"

you always massage each other because stress. when you massage him, he'll let out small mewls that just makes you go omg so cute but when he massages you - he will whip out the best of best stuff for massage

he will play relaxing music for you. you fall asleep whenever daisuke massages you because he's just so good with his hands

you know what else those hands are good for? touching your body in places that'll make you blush but he mostly especially likes cupping your butt because he thinks its so cute

you don't try to do the same because last time you did, you couldn't walk the day after. don't seduce daisuke if you're not prepared for a pounding

you like grocery shopping with daisuke. sure you can always order someone else to do it or you can make use of shopping as a time to bond with each other

you two work out together. daisuke is a boxer and learning that, you begged him to teach you to box but he didn't because what if he hurts you and instead, taught you how to workout and how to defend yourself

he wanted to test out if his self defense lessons were truly learned so he hired someone to pretend to steal something from you

he learned that his self defense lessons was fruitful because the man he hired came back with bruises and such

when daisuke admitted, he slept on the couch for an entire week

in your birthday, you woke up feeling nervous because it's your birthday - meaning daisuke must be up to some expensive shit

then you realized you're not in your bedroom. it was a completely different bedroom

you were scared honestly and you thought you were kidnapped until daisuke comes into your room wearing his beach wear and his shades while holding two coconuts with straws

"happy birthday. welcome to hawaii, my love"

HOW DID HE BRING YOU THERE WITHOUT WAKING YOU UP

you're just very tired the previous night after some fun activities with daisuke if you know what i mean wink wonk you wouldn't wake up no matter how many times you tried

suzue adores you because daisuke smiles more with you and you're best friends uwu so cuteeee

will always be your peace maker whenever you and daisuke fight. she ships you two. her ship cannot sink

suzue: "just hug it out now. hug it out - I SAID HUG DON'T MAKE OUT YOU TWO ARE GOING TOO FAST"

daisuke loves head pats. he wants them all the time. ruffle ruffle his hair. his eyes will close whenever you pat his head

he only wants you to pat his head. anybody else is a no no. maybe suzue but mostly just you

he lets you get all the groceries while he pushes the cart. he doesn't know the brands he sees on the shelves so he depends on you all the time

there's another reason he likes holding hands with you - he doesn't get lost. there was this time when he got lost because you let go of him and someone called you in the intercom and when you went there, you saw daisuke waiting for you with crossed arms and a balloon and its string around his wrist

the person at service said he was frowning the whole time you were gone and so they gave him a balloon but all he did was frown while playing with the balloon. he's mad because he got lost, you were gone, and you let go of his hand

you two are opposite of haru and his girlfriend in grocery shopping

you love it when his hair is down because he's so cute? can a man really be cute and hot at the same time?

the first you saw him with his hair down, you swooned and coddled him and since then, daisuke makes it his point to put his hair down more often now

taking baths together is just as great as massages. shower? you're not some commoner peasant. you use a very large bathtub

you relax with daisuke in the bathtub with bubbles and wine and sometimes he read you a poem from the poetry book he brings at times

you two always go to bathe together. but if you feel like you wanna bathe alone, daisuke will get all pouty aww and sulk aww

he will sit at the toilet seat and stare at you and when he does this, you can't hold yourself back anymore because he's too adorable and just let him join you with a sigh. he's with you in the bathtub in seconds

but if you don't, he'll leave the bathroom after a while and poke his head at the door, staring at you, as if saying this is your last chance and if you still don't allow him, there is a good chance you'll find him sulking on your bed while lying down, back facing you

just cuddle with him, he'll be fine

haru still doesn't believe daisuke got someone like you as his girlfriend because you're so kind and down to earth and you're dating this rich bastard like whaaaat

you try to make haru see the good qualities of daisuke and every single time you do, daisuke does something to piss him off

you made it your personal mission to experience the regular life of a human being without an unlimited balance

daisuke allows you to style his hair whenever you two sit on the couch. any hairstyles, any accessories, he's open so long your soft fingers are on his hair

you have always wanted a dog and begged daisuke for one but he did not relent, saying it was too much work and although it hurts to see you sad, he had to be strong

this is the only thing and time he said no to you and i'm pretty sure you heard haru scream in horror at the distance in disbelief

then one day you and him were walking down a street when a small puppy trotted up to you two wagging its tail and barking happily at you

you bent down and patted it, cooing and daisuke is wary of that small adorable pup. will it bite you? surely the pup has some common sense

you scooped the pup up and it licked your face and you were laughing and daisuke just has a sudden realization - who looked cuter? you or the puppy? or perhaps you made each other cuter?

daisuke rejected the puppy when you tried giving it to him but you forced it into his arms. daisuke and the pup kinda just stared at each other for a long time. you honestly thought you broke both of them until daisuke kissed the forehead of the puppy, hesitantly but softly

you were shooked (you swore you can hear haru screaming again)

daisuke couldn't help himself. something about the puppy just reminded him of you. it's those puppy eyes

"we need to find its owner, daisuke"

"no"

you told him he cannot buy the puppy because the owner must be worried sick

but it turned out it was a stray lil pup and you adopted her

now daisuke comes home to see you sleeping on the couch waiting for him with the pup in your arms. his heart melts every time

his small little family

for now

Daisuke Kambe let out an exhausted sigh as he parked his car in the garage. His hair was tousled, eyelids dropping, and jacket discarded on the passenger seat beside him. The case earlier has proven difficult than the previous ones he had taken. The criminal was harder to catch with his agility and athletic abilities, and was not easily persuaded when beckoned by cash. Not to mention his partner has been rebuking him the whole time, ranting about how justice workes and how money does not solve everything - basically, the usual. He was extremely fatigued, and all he wanted to do was wash up and go to bed with his beloved in his arms.

A tired smile broke his bland visage at the thought of you. The only reason he hasn't decided to spend the night at a hotel was because you weren't there. The faster he moves, the faster he can get to bed with you. Oh, he can't wait to see you and that little puppy of yours and his.

He exited the car, jacket draped over his shoulder. He sluggishly went to the front door and entered. As he delved further into his mansion, he was immediately greeted by a lovely sight. Your slumbering figure was laid out on the couch, the newly adopted puppy curling near your chest and resting with you. Warmth swaddled his heart and his eyes softened. All of a sudden, the exhaustion he felt has vanished, and all he could do was admire this masterpiece before him. You were waiting for him again.

As much as he wanted to see you like this longer, he couldn't let you sleep on the couch. There's a much more comfortable bed waiting for you upstairs. He approached you with quiet footsteps. The puppy perked up, her superb hearing picking up the sound of his advancement. Daisuke knelt down and stroked her head. "Good evening, Chico." Then he turned to you. You looked so peaceful - parted lips, even breathing. He leaned forward and pecked your cheek, smiling a small smile when you shifted. "Good evening, love."

You let out a yawn as you rubbed your eyes, body shuffling. "Daisuke?" You groaned out. "Is that you?"

Daisuke knew you couldn't see him but he nodded anyway. "You don't have to keep waiting for me like this, you know."

To his surprise, you wrapped your arms around him and pulled yourself closer to his body. "But I want to. And I missed you." You yawned through your statement as you nuzzled your head on his neck. "You still smell good after being outside the whole day. How unfair."

Daisuke let out a chuckle. "Come on. Let's get you to bed." He stood up easily even with your form carried in his arms. Chico jumped out of the couch at the same time and followed Daisuke as he carried you upstairs to your shared room, lying you down carefully on the bed. Daisuke made an attempt to withdraw from the withholding grapple of your arms around his neck but his endeavor was less then proliferant as you have established a stronger hold on him, unrelenting.

Daisuke let out a sigh as he tried to adjust from the uncomfortable stance he was positioned in. "I need to change first, Y/N." Badgered Daisuke, hands resting on your back.

Yet his words did no preclude you and you merely shook your head in response. "No," Your eyes shone with defiance, pout manifesting on your lips. "Stay."

"I'll come back in a few, love. I can't sleep in my work clothes." Insisted Daisuke, resolve crumbling the more he looked into your eyes.

"I don't care. Just stay." You grumbled.

Sometimes Daisuke sometimes wondered just how much power you had over him. He couldn't say no to you, apart for that one time when you asked if you two could get a puppy. Looking back at it, he felt guilty that he did not allow you two to have a dog earlier but if it wasn't for his stubborness, you wouldn't have come across Chico.

Speaking of the little puppy, it had successfully jumped on the bed and let out a merry howl. Distracted by the new development of the young dog, you were able to pull Daisuke down on the space beside you and did not think twice before snuggling to his side, arms embracing him tightly as you grinned happily, a happy giggle exiting your lips. You rubbed your head on his shoulders, sighing contentedly. "You're staying here with us."

Daisuke looked down at your beaming face and looked away, redness tinting his cheeks. "If it can't be helped." He stated, but he knew he made his choice the moment you had told him to stay.

Daisuke slowly wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer, and you willingly accepted his affection. You were so warm, so loving. How did he ever find you?

And then came the cloud of exhaustion. His eyelids gradually drooped over his sockets, his strength withering every second that had gone by until the last thing he saw before sleep overcame him was you and a bounding Chico burying herself in between the two of you.

[xxdragonwriterxx]

🔥The Perfect Shot🔥

A/N: This one was a little experimental but I’m actually kinda proud of it 😅. I had a dream about this and just had to write it down so here you go! This one has been in my drafts for a while and I finally had time to edit it, not me doing this instead of my homework, so I figured I’d post it so I have some new content out while I work on the two requests I have. Speaking of which, those will be out soon so keep an eye out for those! I love working on them and they are both really awesome requests so I’m really excited to get them out to you. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this quick piece! Love you guys! 🥰🥺

🐉Song Recommendation: “Stick Up” By: grandson 🐉

Word Count: ~4.2k

~~~

Levi scowled immediately upon entering the bar. It didn’t have anything to do with the bar itself, the establishment was actually surprisingly clean. A little too messy to meet his usual standards, but clean enough for him to get comfortable. No, his scowl was aimed right for his old friend Erwin, the owner of the place.

“Levi, what’s with the sour look?” Erwin asked, his gaze sympathetic. Bastard, he knew what the look was for.

“Haven’t I told you not to pity me whenever I come in here?” Levi snapped, not in the mood for the giant blonde’s antics tonight. “My job is hard enough as it is without you constantly looking at me like I’m some kind of injured animal.”

“It’s not pity, Levi, it’s a thing called concern. I know you’ve probably never heard of it, but it’s something that friends show each other when they are worried about the well being of the other person.”

“I’m fine,” Levi grumbled. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

Erwin knew that wasn’t entirely true, could see it in the shorter man’s eyes, but he let it be, knowing Levi would just get more irritated the longer the conversation continued. “The usual?”

“Yeah.”

“Oi, Miche! Levi’s here, get him his usual, please!”

Levi heard Miche’s responding yell from the back room where the dirty blonde was probably hanging out with Hanji, the brunette scientist, a close friend of Erwin’s who got special permission to stay in the back room with them whenever the foot traffic was slow. Shaking his head, Levi fought the small smile that tried to appear on his face as he thought about the people he had surprisingly come to know as his friends. He still had no idea why they ever wanted to talk to him, but he had come to appreciate it nonetheless, even when Hanji blabbed his ear off about scientific studies, although he’d never admit it aloud.

Soon enough, a glass filled with dark copper liquid was slid in front of him, and he lifted his gaze to see Miche smirking at him, “Hard day?”

“You could say that,” Levi murmured, lifting the glass to his lips and taking a healthy gulp.

“Work hours are only getting longer, huh?”

“Yeah, and the people I work with are idiots. It was almost like my latest clients were on a mission to make my job as difficult as possible. It would’ve been a complete disaster if I hadn’t been able to focus everything at the last minute; would’ve cost both of us a lot of money if I hadn’t gotten the shots they wanted.”

“Sorry to hear that, Levi,” Miche said, a slight frown on his handsome features. “I hope this helps you loosen up a bit.”

Levi nodded as Miche ambled away with a light pat on the mahogany, a sigh quietly slipping from his lips as he picked up the glass and swirled it before taking another sip. The golden lights above him were dimmed, making the space feel surprisingly homey, the glow from the lamps contrasting nicely with the dark wallpaper and bathing the wood of the bar with a warm honeyed finish. Levi closed his eyes and sighed through his nose, allowing the cozy atmosphere to soothe him.

He was grateful for the emptiness of the bar, the quiet hum of the television playing the latest news one of the only sounds filling the air. He wasn’t surprised, it was nearly two in the morning, but it made him grateful nonetheless. He did feel bad about coming in so late, knowing that even though the bar was still open, his friends would want to be heading home soon, but he had been working late, cleaning his equipment and resetting his work space for the next day and hadn’t been able to come in any earlier. He had thought about waiting, but the stress of the day pushed him to put himself before others for once and have a damn drink.

Levi was still lost in his thought when the sound of a bell tinkling snapped him out of it, his silver hues darting over to the door and narrowing. He quirked an eyebrow in surprise when he saw a woman standing in the entryway, a black hooded cloak wrapped around her shoulders to protect her against the biting autumn chill.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Miche’s booming voice called out, only adding to Levi’s confusion, “How’re you doing today? Work go well?”

The woman Miche had called (Y/N) lowered the hood of her cloak, letting out a relaxed sigh as the warmth of the bar chased the cold from her skin. She smiled when she saw the tall, dirty blonde man, her (e/c) eyes sparkling.

“I’m doing well, Miche, thank you! Work ran really late today, some difficult clients seemed to be on a mission to make me want to kill them, so I just had to get a drink when I finally finished up. I hope I’m not bothering anyone this late?”

Miche waved off her concerns with a broad smile, “Of course not! Seat yourself and I’ll be right with you, the usual, right?”

(Y/N) nodded and shrugged off her cloak, draping it over the back of her seat as she slid into a spot two places away from Levi, naturally giving the raven-haired stranger space. Levi watched her as she took her seat, his head tilted slightly to the side curiously. He had never seen her before, despite the fact that she was obviously a regular. He wasn’t a constant drinker, but he had come to this bar enough to be curious about her, trying to figure out which days she usually liked to come in. Maybe she usually came in during the day. It would make sense, Levi almost always came in around midnight due to the effort and professionalism he put into his craft taking up most of his time, but he was still surprised he had never heard of her, not when she was clearly a good friend of Miche’s.

“Ah, I thought I recognized that voice, welcome back (Y/N),” Erwin said as he rounded the corner, a bright smile on his handsome face as he presented her with her drink of choice. (Y/N) smiled back at him and gently grasped the glass in her palms, a quiet murmur of gratitude slipping from her lips before she sipped.

Erwin knew her too? That did make sense, if Miche knew her than Erwin, the owner of the bar, would definitely know her too, but this seemed like more than your average bartender and customer relationship. They were acting like close friends, as if they’d known each other for years. He could see it in the way the blonde behemoth beamed at the sight of the mystery woman, the way he talked so easily to her. He knew Erwin was usually charming, easygoing, but this felt different.

“I heard you had a tough day at work,” Erwin said, leaning against the bar with both elbows perched on the wood.

“Yeah,” (Y/N) said with a sigh, taking another sip of her drink. “It was these new customers. Most of my clients know of my skill and trust me to do the job right but these people just wouldn’t stop being so controlling. Every five seconds they would be telling me to move and take another shot, move and take another shot, practicing over and over again with decoy subjects as if this were my first time doing this. It took me way longer to get everything done, and cleaning up took forever at the end because of all of the extra stuff they wanted to include. It was infuriating, like, I know how to do my job, so please, shut the fuck up.”

Erwin chuckled, “I would’ve paid good money to see the look on their faces.”

“You know I didn’t actually say that to them. I wanted to, really wanted to, but they are business and business is money, so I just had to deal with it. It just comes with the job, I  guess.”

Erwin nodded and leaned back, pulling a washcloth from his pocket to wipe down the the wood, cleaning the smudges from where he had been leaning. “Yeah, I get it. People come in here all the time just to be difficult. Some pick fights, some try not to pay, some are just petty because they want to be, some come in at ungodly hours of the morning, it’s just part of the job, like you said.”

(Y/N) winced, “Sorry, I know it’s late. I can leave if you guys are packing up.”

Erwin shook his head with a warm smile. “Don’t be, I was just teasing you. I had Nanaba working the morning shift, so I haven’t been here for that long. Take your time to unwind, you deserve it.”

She smiled at him again, thanking him as she lifted the glass to her lips. Erwin slapped a large hand on her shoulder and squeezed once before leaving to go into the back room, no doubt to check on Miche and make sure he wasn’t being harassed by Hanji and her over energetic explanations of her experiments.

(Y/N) leaned back and hummed happily at the feeling of the warm alcohol burning pleasantly in her stomach. She could feel the eyes of the raven haired man on her as she took another sip, but she ignored him. If he wanted to talk to her, then he could say something, but she wasn’t going to engage him unless he did, content to just finish her drink and go home. 

She supposed if she didn’t want to talk to people she could’ve just had a drink at home, curled up on the couch with a movie, blankets, and maybe some ice cream, but there was just something about Erwin’s bar that was so comforting. 

It was a quiet little place, even during the day, a hidden treasure that was hard to find if you didn’t know where to look. It was only known through word of mouth, which made it wonderfully calm most of the time, as most people went to the more popular bars in the area. (Y/N) had learned about it through Hanji, her friend from college, who told her about it after (Y/N) had had a particularly horrible day at work and needed a pick me up. Now, she came all the time, even if she didn’t order anything, just to talk to her now good friends and enjoy the relaxing atmosphere.

She had actually been surprised to find someone else sitting at the bar when she had walked in. Erwin’s bar wasn’t a complete secret, she knew that despite the lack of advertising, quite a few people knew about the joint, but she almost never saw anybody at this time of night. Not when the bar was technically closed and her friends were finishing up. 

It made her wonder if her friends knew this man, if he was a friend of their’s. If he was, she had never heard of him. Maybe he was just one of those private types. But then again, would a private type be so obviously staring at a random woman in a bar at two in the morning? She didn’t know, but for some reason, although the stare unnerved her a bit, she wasn’t really bothered by it. She occasionally liked to people watch, albeit more subtly, so despite the intensity of the stare making her want to squirm, she let him be, downing more of her liquor until it burned her throat and warmed her chest from the inside out.

The man’s phone suddenly buzzed, the normally quiet noise sounding a lot louder in the wake of the near complete silence in the bar. He glanced down at it, turning the screen at an angle of which she couldn’t see, and scowled. She watched as he silently seethed, unlocking his phone and quickly replying to whoever had texted him, his fingers flying across the little keyboard. 

(Y/N) had to admit, he was quite handsome, her eyes roving over him while he wasn’t paying attention, subjecting him to the same treatment he had been giving her. He was shorter than the average man but (Y/N) hardly noticed, his pale skin and black hair, both darkened by the dim lighting of the bar, paired with his gunmetal eyes proving to be an appealing combination.

Levi growled to himself lowly, pretending not to notice the woman staring at him as he typed on his phone, writing a response to a cheeky text from Hanji.

“You’re going to creep her out if you just keep staring at her like some kind of predator. Go talk to her!”

“Fuck off, Shitty Glasses.”

“I’m serious, Levi! She’s a good friend of mine, it’ll be good for you two to get to know each other. Besides, I think you’re drooling. Go talk to her before I make you, she won’t bite!”

“I said, fuck off.”

Refraining from rolling his eyes, Levi placed his phone face down on the table and ran a hand through his hair, trying to think of a reason to approach her. It wasn’t because he was drooling over her like Hanji claimed, he was just bored and had time to kill. She just happened to be different enough to capture his temporary interest. At least, that’s what he told himself. He didn’t let himself admit how surprisingly pretty she was, nor did he acknowledge the fact that his eyes kept straying to her face, fixated on her attractive features.

But, as much as he hated to admit it, Hanji was right. Staring at her like this without saying a word, in the middle of the night, at a bar, alone, was creepy as fuck. He was genuinely surprised she hadn’t confronted him already, telling him to fuck off. 

Talking to people just wasn’t his forte, he felt uncharacteristically nervous, but he had to say something, otherwise she’d see him as nothing more than some creepy asshole. He had no idea why he cared so much about her opinion, but he ignored that thought as he scrambled for a topic to bring up.

“Hard day?”

Her soft voice snapped Levi out of his thoughts, his eyes flicking up to meet hers, which he hadn’t realized were trained on him, “What?”

“Oh, you just seem like you’ve had a hard day, so I thought I’d ask you about it.”

“What made me look like I had a bad day?” Levi asked.

“Well, for one, you’re here at two in the morning. You could just be an insomniac who prefers a drink late at night like me, but you also looked constipated a minute ago, so I made an educated guess.”

Levi fought the smirk that tried to appear on his face. He often made shit jokes when around his friends, it made a small part of him happy knowing she did too. “It was shitty.”

(Y/N) giggled, “Mine was too.”

“Yeah, I heard you talking about it with Erwin and Miche. Annoying clients, right?”

(Y/N) nodded, “Mm, just some folks who think they know everything. But it wasn’t anything a little drink from Erwin’s place can’t fix. How about you?”

“Same kind of thing,” Levi said, sipping from his glass. “Just some shitty people trying to control every aspect of my job.”

(Y/N) hummed her acknowledgement and took a healthy swig from her drink. “Exactly. All day, they’ve been making me change things that didn’t need changing, swap out equipment that didn’t need to be swapped, etc. It’s so infuriating sometimes when things would get done so much faster if I was left alone. I had a vision right from the start that would’ve given me the perfect shot if they hadn’t interfered, but because of them, my work wasn’t nearly as professional as it usually is.”

Levi raised an eyebrow at that, surprised. It wasn’t often he found someone who worked in the same career field as him, at least not in this area. It made him wonder just how spontaneous this was, if Hanji had somehow convinced (Y/N) to come out on a night when the brunette knew he would be there.

“Really? Why don’t you tell me about this perfect shot?”

(Y/N) glanced at him, one eyebrow raised, “What’s it to you?”

“I’m curious, we might have different perspectives on how to get this so called ‘perfect shot’. If you share with me your methods, I might share some of mine too.”

(Y/N)’s mouth parted in shock a little. Her profession wasn’t that uncommon, but in this area? She was the most notable by a landslide, so it made her curious. Maybe he was from out of town? She didn’t recognize him, but maybe she had heard of him before and just didn’t know it was him?

“Alright, fine,” (Y/N) said, getting up and moving closer to him, seating herself beside him. “Usually, to get what I want, I have to start by surveying the space. I really like to note all of the possible places I could position myself for maximum clarity and optimal focus.”

Levi nodded, his mind going back to his own methods, identifying that as one of the things he did when preparing for work as well. “I like to do that too. If you don’t pay attention to your surroundings, it can limit your opportunities and present unexpected obstacles.”

“Exactly. Then, once I’ve found a spot where I want to be, I try to either imagine the thing I’m shooting and where I want them to be, or try to plan for exactly where they are going to move to as I work. That way, I can estimate where the focal point will be, and when they are finally in position, it’s a lot easier to locate.”

“Where do you shoot from? Far or close?” Levi asked, his attention completely focused on the woman in front of him.

“Well, that depends on what my client wants and where the person is. The location, time, client, and weather can change at any time, and all of it directly impacts the quality of the shot. So I flip back and forth between them depending on what’s happening. How about you?”

“I usually tend to favor distance rather than close proximity, gives me more to work with. It makes it harder to focus and even the slightest movement can ruin the job, but close proximity can make it harder to see the whole picture, at least, in my opinion,” Levi said.

(Y/N) nodded, “That makes sense.”

“What next?”

“Well then, once I have a focal point picked out and a position set, I get my equipment ready. Sometimes I have a bunch of extensions and extra supplies to help me out if it’s a particularly important client, but most of the time I try to keep it simple. Less distractions that way.”

Levi nodded, his eyes glinting as he listened to her speak, neither of them aware of the eyes that were watching them from the back room window, trying to stifle their squeals and chuckles.

“After everything is prepped and ready to go, I then have to prepare myself. You’d think that after doing this job for so long that I wouldn’t be affected by nerves and emotions while working anymore, but unfortunately, I am. So before I even touch my equipment, I usually have take deep breaths and completely wipe my mind of all anxiety. It has to be perfect for each client, no matter who they are, so I have to get a grip on myself before I start. Even the tiniest hitched breath can affect the shot.”

Levi was pleasantly surprised with that one. It wasn’t like anyone he worked with denied the fact that emotion and nervousness could impact the shot, but they often didn’t consider it too much as a factor, preferring to power through the anxiety and get it over with. Levi had always been annoyed with this strategy and the mediocre results it produced, so hearing (Y/N) talk about something most others chose to ignore, made him want to get to know her more.

“I agree,” Levi said. “Ever since I started, that has always stuck with me.”

(Y/N) smiled, “Finally, once everything is in position and I’ve gotten a handle on my adrenaline, I position myself with my equipment and take the shot. Thankfully, after that, I have a crew that comes in for cleaning up the area when I’m finished so I can go back and take care of my equipment. Unless, that is, I miss. If I miss the target, then I’m responsible for tracking them down while avoiding shots aimed at me. I wouldn’t want anyone on my team to get hurt, and if I miss the shot, that’s my own fault, so I have to clean up my own mess.”

Levi was nodding along until her words really sank in, making him freeze. Target? Tracking them down? Avoiding shots? Getting hurt? Levi’s face paled and (Y/N)’s smile immediately faded, replaced by a look of concern.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Levi swallowed thickly and nodded, the gears turning rapidly in his head as he tried to think of what to say. “Yes, sorry, I just remembered that I have an important client coming in tomorrow that I forgot about since today has been such a mess. You just reminded me of it, that’s all.”

“Are you sure? You look… sick... all of a sudden.”

“I’m fine. I’m just stressed about this photo shoot tomorrow. It’s really important for my business. If I lose them, then I’ll  have a bit of a problem on my hands.”

Levi watched the color drain from (Y/N)’s face as if her skin was being bleached right before his eyes. Her mouth opened, a small squeak coming out but no words, her eyes wide with shock and panic.

“O-Oh my gods…” (Y/N) whispered. “You-You…!”

“Yeah, I thought you were a...” Levi whispered back.

“Oh gods, I am so sorry, um, I-I didn’t mean to- um, okay,” (Y/N) stuttered and tripped over her words, her head turning frantically as she fought for something to say. She felt like she should leave, but she was worried about how that would look, especially after dropping such a bombshell on him. Sighing, she admitted defeat and pushed the rest of her drink away, moving to grab her cloak. “Gods, I am so sorry, I’ll just go, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or-”

“Wait,” Levi said.

(Y/N) wanted to escape the situation, wanted to leave this nightmare and bury her face in some pillows at home as she wallowed in her embarrassment, but the conviction in his voice made her stop and slowly sink back down into her seat.

“It doesn't bother me,” Levi said slowly. “You didn’t know, and it’s your job. I can’t fault you for that.”

“Really?” (Y/N) said, not convinced.

“Trust me,” Levi said. “I’m friends with Shitty Glasses, who literally experiments on anything and everything, I’ve heard worse stories than that one.”

When (Y/N) still didn’t look convinced, Levi sighed and reached into his coat pocket. “Here, I’d like to talk to you again sometime. Come around one day and I might just show you how I take the perfect shot.”

(Y/N) hesitated but eventually reached forward and took ahold of the little white card he held out to her, her eyes sparkling when she saw his name, number, and studio address on the piece of paper. Looking up, she could see the honesty reflected in his gaze and finally allowed a small smile to come back onto her face.

“That sounds good, Levi. I’ll see you around.”

“See you,” Levi said as he watched (Y/N) stand, stretch, and walk out, cloak in hand.

As soon as the door shut and the (h/c) haired woman made her way around the corner, his friends burst into the room, all of them wearing smug smiles that only made Levi scowl.

“So, looks like you’ve got some plans, huh? I’ve never seen you hand out your card to anyone that wasn’t a major client,” Hanji said, wiggling her eyebrows and beaming when he turned his glare on her.

“Shut up, Shitty Glasses. Why didn’t you tell me she was a sniper?”

“Well, because usually that’s a pretty big turn off for people. (Y/N) is my best friend and she needs some love too so I figured, why not? I knew you’d figure it out eventually, but I didn’t want to set a precedent for her that would make you unwilling to approach her. And look what happened! Now, you have a date!”

“It’s not a date, Four Eyes.”

“Uh huh, whatever you say, Shorty.”

Levi ignored his friends as the two men started laughing along with Hanji, cracking jokes about him and the situation he had somehow found himself in. Looking out the windows, towards the corner of the street where he had seen (Y/N) disappear, he couldn’t help the small smile that curled the corners of his lips.

A photographer and a sniper, huh? Maybe they weren’t so different after all. Maybe, whatever this was that was blooming between them, will be worth a shot.

~~~

A/N: I totally forgot to say earlier that this story is based off of the prompt posted by @writing-prompt-s! Sorry for not sourcing it beforehand, completely slipped my mind. Thank you to those who reminded me!

[karasunology]

⸙ ˚₊ ➷ THE MIYA TWINS & BOKUTO KOUTARO AS YOUR OLDER BROTHERS ! ❞

╰─ ─ ﾟheadcanons of the best twins & ace of my heart being your older brothers.

✐ . . . BIG BROTHER HEADCANONS.

[ OIKAWA TOORU & KAGEYAMA TOBIO VERSION. ] [ SUNA RINTAROU & KITA SHINSUKE VERSION. ]

-ˏˋ ➶ character(s) ━ bokuto koutaro, miya atsumu & miya osamu <3

[ trigger warnings ━ slight manga spoilers !! ]

-ˏˋ ✉️ REQUESTS ARE ALWAYS OPEN.

⇣ please read the RULES before requesting.

MIYA TWINS.

➜ oh my goodness, i pray so hard and dearly for your parents because y'all are WILD WILD

➜ when you guys were young, you know those videos of twins confusing their baby on who's their parent??

➜ yeah THESE TWO TRIED IT WITH YOU

➜ it was probably atsumu's dumb idea

➜ he watched it a few days ago in youtube

➜ so he suggested it to osamu which begrudgingly accepted, curious on how you would react

“ c'mon, come to big brother 'samu ”

➜ atsumu says as he stretches his arms out to you while you're oblivious poor innocent ass was doing the grabby hands to him

➜ ngl you looked so cute he felt a little guilty for what's to come

➜ while osamu sits next to him with a monotonous expression

“ no, i'm big brother 'samu ”

➜ your head spun to his direction

➜ and you're just like 👁👄👁

➜ while switching left and right in confusion as you dropped your arms down so fucking fast LMAO

➜ while atsumu was trying so hard, really he promised he won't laugh so soon, that osamu keeps pestering him to shut his bitch as up

➜ until the faintest of sobs were heard, forcing their mini argument to a halt

“ will you stay quiet ─ ”

“ ─ oh no no no, please don't cry ”

➜ osamu is in distraught because he actually doesn't know how to take care of a child crying

➜ while astumu is trying to carry you

“ hngg i ─ hic ─ want big brother 'samu ─ hic ! ”

➜ bitch almost wanted to drop you right then and there honestly

➜ he's like ??? DOES THIS BITCH EVEN KNOW I EXIST EYE??

➜ and when osamu heard you calling out to him, something in him snapped

“ i knew this was a bad idea ─ ”

➜ as he shoved atsumu off of you, hugging you as he tries to coo you, whispering “ shh . . don't ya worry, yer big brother 'samu is here ”

➜ this MANS OHMYGOD

➜ your cries seemed to have ceased as atsumu is standing there like ??

➜ i'm thEIR BROTHER TOO !!

➜ bb boy held a grudge on you for a few weeks ngl

➜ but then you grew up and now you know that you actually have two (2) big bro 'samu

➜ but more annoying & bitchy

➜ you're their favourite victim to bully

➜ well, atsumu

➜ but they won't let their teasing lead to you crying because they actually can't stand the sight of their younger sibling crying

➜ contrary to popular belief, when you realized there was another big bro 'samu, you were now attached to atsumu while he's similing smugly and triumphly at osamu

➜ atsumu would 100% be very competitive for your attention though he makes you hate him whenever he bullies you

➜ but we all know osamu hates losing

➜ so there was definitely a time of your life that their fighting over who was the best big brother

➜ ugh y'all cute cute

➜ while you're helping osamu around the kitchen, atsumu would just watch from the side lines because the kitchen is kinda yours and osamu's thing

➜ though while in his earlier years, he'd get upset because he wants you to hang out with him too :(

➜ while you have the cooking thing with osamu, you have the baking thing with atsumu

➜ shh hear me out

➜ osamu is actually not good at baking shit

➜ the first time he attempted baking was when you joined a baking club & now you're obsessed with making cupcakes and all that good good

➜ and he wanted to also try and back

➜ and how and what did he do to make your cupcakes look like dog shit was beyond you

➜ and while smelling something burning, atsumu ran to the kitchen and after realizing what osamu did

➜ he'd try and make your next batch of cupcakes presentable

➜ because he's?? actually?? good at it??

➜ and now you guys have your baking sessions and brother 'tsumu bonding time

➜ but even though you guys have other things with the other person, you guys LOVED doing chores together

➜ like, your guys' mom would make the boys clean the bathroom and before you knew it, LIKE YOU WENT THERE JUST TO TALK TO THEM WHILE THEY CLEAN, you find yourself cleaning the toilet necause atsumu ain't doing that shit

➜ washing dishes?? that as well

➜ you and atsumu would be the ones washing while osmu would do the drying

➜ 11/10 of the time would leave you guys a damped mess

➜ while cleaning the kitchen, i absoloutely headcanon, like STRONGLY

➜ that you guys would just talk either about random shit, talk shit about someone honestly, or quote reality tv shows

➜ like one thing you would be sweeping the kitchen floor,  and while sweeping, you accidentally hit the trash bin hard that the contents flew out of it as it fell down the floor

➜ and atsumu's like : “ pooja what is this behaviour?? ”

➜ then something clicked in you that made you remember that one show bigg boss something

➜ and you'd be like : “ i'm sorry i kicked it ny mistake ”

➜ osamu would roll his eyes before joining you two :  “ you can't kick it by mistake ”

➜ “ then pick it up if it bothers you ”

➜ ugh y'all aRE ICONS

➜ y'all would be at the pool and atsumu would shout “ oh no my diamond earing is gone ”

➜ and osamu would reply “ kim, there's people that are dying. ”

➜ you'll be their biggest fan in the court

➜ whenever they play with you on the sidelines something in them just snapped and they'll be scoring points by points in a row

➜ they lowkey love to show off

➜ if you're a girl, every fangirl of they have would be wary of you at first, but then realized that you were just their little sister

➜ and to their bisexual fans, they would ngl have a huge ass crush on you too

➜ and if you're a boy as well, oH MY GOD WOULD THEY HAVE FALLEN AMD CAN'T GET UP

➜ LIKE BITCH THE MIYA GENES ARE THRIVING IN THE THREE OF YOU

➜ you bet they'd be throwing hands if someone decided to break your heart

➜ though, osamu would be the more rational one

➜ if they ever meet your s/o, atsumu would want to rile them up while osamu is just being calm but the scarier one of the two?? but he knows you don't need any protecting because you know how to do it yourself & you don't have any need for that

➜ 12/10 would recommend as brothers

➜ in conclusion, you guys may not always get along, but you know damn well they care about you and would apologize right away if they did something too far. and you guys are such good sibling goals😤

BOKUTO KOUTARO.

➜ definitely know how to deal with his emo mode

➜ since you guys grew up together

➜ and sadly, you didn't have an akaashi to help you out with it while you were young

➜ like he'd be the older brother but you would probably be the more mature one

➜ but while you guys were young, he was your knight & shinning armor

➜ like when you scraped your knee while trying to catch him, he'll do a 180° and bitch has never ran faster to you than that time

➜ & if you were crying because of it, he'll make stupid jokes but it'll always make you forget about the pain in your knee

➜ and it's one of those times that you could really see that he was actually older than you

➜ then he'll piggyback you back to your house

➜ homeboy be reliable even while he was young wow

➜ and even 'till now

➜ if you ever got sick or injured

➜ or god forbid, HEARBROKEN by someone

➜ a bitch will throw hands

➜ but before that he'll make you laugh & do his best to take your mind off whatever is causing you to hurt

➜ ngl you would always look up to him, even if he may seem childish

➜ he'll hang out with you the rest of the day, he doesn't care if it's a school day, he'll drag akaashi with him

➜ my boy here GIVES THE BEST ADVICES

➜ though he may reword them differently, but his advices never seemed to fail you

➜ fights don't usually happen, and if they do they're probably serious

➜ he's the type of brother that lets you sneak out the house

➜ he'll usually back you up in everything

➜ and this bitch would take the fall for your faults

➜ ugh WE STAN

➜ but also if you sneak out the house to your significant other, bb boy has to know their number, address, occupation etc.

➜ because he ain't having a broken hearted sibling

➜ and he just wants the best for you

➜ and in the future, though he may be busy with being a professional volleyball player;

➜ he'll always have time for you

➜ he'll cLEAR OUT HIS SCHEDULE JUST FOR YOU

➜ you're that urgent to him

➜ your his first best friend before volleyball

➜ speaking of volleyball, if you aren't found in the stands in his matches ─ he'll go TO EMO MODE Y'ALL

➜ because you're usually always there in his games and it makes him give all his 120%

➜ since he's usually busy, he'll ALWAYS have those covey sisters movie nights

➜ if ykyk

➜ he's a sucker for family bonding time ogey

➜ the type to binge watch all the hsm movies & know all the lyrics to all the songs

➜ the type to defend sharpay with all his might

➜ and you guessed it right

➜ sharpay is his favourite character

➜ no one tell me otherwise

➜ THE TYPE TO DUET SONGS WITH YOU

➜ HIS FAVOURITE?

➜ EVERY SHARPAY & RYAN SONGS

➜ HE'LL BE SHARPAY AND YOU'LL BE RYAN

➜ AND THAT'S ON BOP TO THE TOP

➜ hates horror movies

➜ so if you ever watch it with him, he won't leave your side for the rest of the night & will have a sleepover on the living room

➜ f o r t s

➜ loves doing ridiculous challanges

➜ your phone would be BOMBARDED with crackhead videos of him

➜ probably broke a bone or two ngl

➜ 100/10 would recommend as a brother

➜ in conclusion, he may not always be there, and would be a bit childish & needy at times; but you know that he would step up as a big brother for you ANYDAY, ANYNIGHT, ANYTIME. because how could he want the best for you when he's not being his best on his part?

-ˏˋ playing soleil's tape ˊˎ-

[ 📼 ] . . . tumblr won't let this post show on the tags now i have to repost them all over again phew chile. watch me throw hands😤

[bqstqnbruin]

4 times he wanted to come over + one time he did

Ok, we’re going to ignore several things here, like the fact that this was an 8 page Google Doc that I put together in a few hours, the fact that said document had been blank since June, t y p o s, and the fact that it’s nearly three am and I have my first day of classes technically today (aka at 2 pm).

But here I am, with my second fic of the day? IDK but since classes are starting, my posts are going to be a lot less frequent, so hopefully you guys like this! -------------------

one

Your apartment was finally put together just the way you liked it; all your stuff had its place, it was decorated just the way you liked it, you even had a pantry full of food, a rare feat when you were in college even with living with three other girls. Your first morning in your new, fully set up place was going to be celebrated by yourself. You had planned to make yourself breakfast that would probably last into lunch, order Chinese food later that night, drink coffee and watch Seinfeld on Hulu until you felt like going to sleep. There was no better way to break in a new place than by just relaxing in it. 

You turn on your TV, setting your coffee and plate down on the table in front of your couch, and walk over to the huge windows you were lucky enough to have in the apartment. It was a picture-perfect day, and the sun shined right into your apartment, not a single cloud in the blue sky. You felt like you were in a movie like someone had curated the scene and that with the touch of a button, the green screen would be gone and so would the magic. 

Sitting down, putting your feet up on the table, you dig in. This was actually perfect for you. Your new job was going to be stressful and you knew it. The more you could find ways to relax in your home, the better the job would be. 

After three episodes and nearly spilling your coffee all over you twice, you decide to get up and move around. You were drawn back to your windows, still in awe at the scene on the other side of them. Across the street, it looks like someone was doing the same in their apartment. He was tall, handsome, shirtless, and covered with tattoos that you couldn’t seem to take your eyes off of. 

He waves at you smiling in a way that made you melt. It took everything in you to wave back and not do something stupid, mentally thanking yourself that the pajamas you had been wearing were athletic shorts and a tshirt from your sorority, and not something more embarrassing. 

You go back to your couch, knowing that he could still see you and probably what you were watching. You couldn’t focus on the episode, feeling as if he were still there watching you. You tried to force yourself not to steal glances at him but failed, every so often seeing him mirroring your actions, watching TV on his couch. You didn’t know that the entire time, he was also stealing glances at you. He couldn’t help it; never before had he seen someone look so naturally beautiful, so in their element and carefree while just sitting and watching TV. 

“Fuck it,” you say to yourself, pausing mid-episode and getting up to find the paper, markers, and tape you know you had stashed somewhere.

Messily scrawling ‘I just moved in, nice to meet you,’ on a piece of paper, you tape it up on the window, praying that you wrote it big and dark enough that he could see it.  Sighing when he wasn’t still on the couch, you get back on your own and press play on the TV again. 

Where could he have gone? And why were you more invested in the handsome stranger on the other side of the street than you were in the show about nothing that you had grown up watching? 

Your stomach growls, not quite late enough to order dinner, you wander into your kitchen to get a snack, looking over to the window of handsome man to see that he had left a note, presumably for you. ‘Nice to meet you, I’m Pierre-Luc’ was written in print messier than that of a doctor’s. Thank god your best friend growing up had the world’s worst writing, having to ask him to rewrite it would have been demeaning and embarrassing. 

And so it began: you would write a note, watch an episode, then check to see if he left you anything back. He always did, 

His name was Pierre-Luc and he played hockey. After a quick google search, unbeknownst to him since you were assuming he couldn’t see what was on your phone, you found that he was a professional hockey player, player for the Blue Jackets. Great, as if he weren’t already being sweet, asking you questions, leaving you charmingly flirty messages on his window for you, now he was an athlete? Quite possibly one of the sexiest types of men in your opinion? Great. Amazing. 

‘What’s for dinner?’ he leaves on his window, disappearing somewhere into his apartment. 

‘Ideally Chinese food, where do you suggest?’ is what you leave for him, scrolling through Uber eats to see what was cheapest and nearby. You look up, seeing him writing on a notepad his answer, taping it to his window before sending you what you could swear was a wink. 

‘Best place to eat out is here at my place,” you read, bursting out laughing. Confident, this one. 

You roll your eyes, leaving a cheeky message about sticking to Chinese food and just ordering it from the first place that came up. 

The night went on, you not realizing you had spent the whole day flirting with a window stranger. He had liked talking to you, too, but it was pretty bad for the environment to be wasting all this paper when he could clearly see the phone that was in your hand or on your table. Writing his number on what he hoped would be his final piece of paper, maybe you would invite him over. Or he could invite you over. There was something about you that he wanted to spend time with you, not flirt with you while a city street separates you. Taping the paper up, he can see you, fast asleep on the couch, your TV screen asking you if you were still there. 

Closing his curtains, he hoped that you would use the number soon so you could actually spend time with him. 

 Two

You had been feeding that cat every morning for over a month. You loved that stray cat; there was a weird sense of satisfaction in feeding her even though you knew your apartment building wouldn’t allow you to take her in as a pet. But of course, the day you had your friends coming over for dinner was the day you had to run to the store to buy more cat food because you ran out the day before and forgot to get some yesterday. You didn’t know who put food out for the cat at night, or even if anyone did. 

You go to the bowl sitting in the alley way, seeing that it was empty, confirming your suspicion that no one else fed the poor cat. You would have to start feeding it at night, too. 

“Sorry, you don’t have to do this,” you hear someone say behind you. You get up to see him, the man from the window. 

“Pierre-Luc? Why don’t I have to do this?” 

“Because I’ve been doing it.” 

“No, I have,” you argue, knowing that this would lead to a never-ending circle of ‘me, no me.’ You had been texting each other for a few weeks, constantly trying to figure out when you could spend time together, but much like you and your best friend during senior year of college, your schedules never matched up, going a year before finally seeing each other. 

“When?” he asks, a cocky smile dancing across his face. 

“Every morning before work, what about you,” you ask, getting closer to him. You text relationship was flirty, you were sure of it. Every time you passed by your window when he was home, he made a point to check you out, he winked at you, he smiled. He exuded a welcome confidence that you weren’t used to.

“Every day when I get back from practice.”

“What about the days that you’re away for games?”

“I figured someone would feed him for me.”

“The cat’s a girl,” you say, the little feline coming up to you. “You would know that if you didn’t just assume other people were doing what you set out to do in the first place.”

“Well, my assumption was correct, wasn’t it?” he says, a devilish twinkle in his eye as his tongue runs along his bottom lip. 

“You know what they say about assuming,” you tell him, breaking your eye contact to put out some food for the purring animal.

“What’s that?”

“It makes an ass outta you and me,” you tell him, looking up at him towering over you as a laugh leaving his lips. Given his demeanor, you wouldn’t expect him to look as, what’s the right word, jolly? As he did. 

“How come you’re feeding her now if you usually do it in the morning?” he asks, bending down to help you.

Feeling your phone buzzing in your pocket that signaled your friends were already there waiting for you, you tell him, “I ran out of food yesterday and didn’t have the chance to get more until after work. Plus, I needed to pick some stuff up for tonight, anyway.”

“Tonight?” he asks, his head snapping up. Dammit. Dammit, dammit, dammit, ran through his head.

“Yeah, my friends are coming over for dinner. It’s the first time they’ll be seeing my new place.” You pause for a minute. He was here, obviously with some free time, but did you want his first time over your place to be surrounded by your nosy friends? They knew you were talking to an attractive neighbor, but you knew they would say things to him that would mortify you and send you running before he got the chance. 

But like the night you first moved in, fuck it. “Are you free tonight? I would love for you to come over,” you tell him, the smile on his face disappearing as soon as you asked.

“I have a game tonight, I can’t. I was actually about to change and then leave,” he says, looking sad. He wanted to come over, and as soon as you said you were having friends over, he knew that you were going to ask him. 

“Oh, that’s fine. Now I have a reason to watch a game, though,” you tell him, smiling. You had to admit, you were a little bit upset, but again, it was probably for the best that he didn’t meet your friends just yet. 

“If the game ends early enough, I’ll stop by, yeah?” he suggests, running his hand through his hair.

“Yeah, sure. I’d like that.” 

Three

“Babe, you’ve lived here for like, what? Almost six months? You have a hot as fuck neighbor who you actually talk to, and he hasn’t come over yet? Why haven’t you asked him to come over?” Amy says with food in her mouth. Your friends were over, again, this time to hang out before they went out to the bars. You were originally going to go, but you were too exhausted, and having already promised to host the pregame, you weren’t going to back out now. 

“You call me babe more than any guy I’ve met, you realize that right?” you ask her, getting up to go over to your window. You knew he wasn’t home; you had the Columbus game against the Flyers playing on your TV, Pierre-Luc was on the ice as you absentmindedly went over to the window to see if he was there. “Plus, our schedules never work. Look, Aimes, he’s literally on our TV, meanwhile as soon as all you hooligans leave, I’m going to bed. 

“Come on, stay up for the man,” Jeff said. The only male in your group of friends, he always entered the girl talk, encouraging you to get with a guy just as much as the others. 

“I’m going out to breakfast with you guys in the morning, how cranky do you want me to be, Jeffy? You know I will not hesitate to throw a potato at you,” you say, the rest of the group laughing even though they know you’re serious. You have thrown stuff at him and only him during breakfast before, him never thinking you’d have the guts to cause a scene in public, but doing it anyway. 

“We all know you’d be less cranky if you got laid,” he says through a mouthful of food. Why did everyone talk with their mouths open?

“Tomorrow I’m ordering two breakfasts; one to eat and one to throw at you.” 

You tune out your friends for the rest of the night. You only paid attention to the hockey game, your eyes trying to stay focused on Pierre-Luc every time he was on the ice. You did really want him to come over, but again, the first time couldn’t be with your friends, not when they were full psychopaths when it came to any boy that you were talking to. What would you have done if Pierre-Luc was there when Jeff commented about you being cranky and needed to get laid? 

Why did the cute guy have to have such a complicated schedule? Every time you were free, he was to jet off somewhere in the country for a few days for games, then he would come back, sleep, go to practice, and then go to a game. From what you could tell, he never stayed up past maybe 10 pm on the nights he didn’t have games, he napped nearly every day after practices, and he really was only home to eat.

Not that you were stalking him. Or memorizing his schedule. You two talked all the time, having evolved from notes in the windows to texting, from texting to calling, from calling to him falling asleep before you while on Facetime. He was one of your best friends, and you had never actually hung out with him at your or his apartment. 

“So how long will it take for him to get home now that the game is over?” Amy asks, snapping you out of the trance that you didn’t know you were in.

You didn’t even know that the game was over; the Jackets beat the Flyers 2-1, the game apparently ending about five minutes ago. You never timed how long it took between the game being over and him getting home since it was different pretty much every night. You think. Again, it’s not like you were stalking the boy. “Uh, I don’t know, half an hour?” you guess, giving them what you hoped was enough information for them to not ask you more.

“So has he sent you any like sexy pics?” Tanaka pips in, you nearly choking on the water you were drinking. 

“What the ever living fuck?” you nearly scream, all your friends laughing at your reaction. “There is no way I would ever tell you. Guys, we’re friends. Yes, he’s cute, hell, he’s fucking hot, but we’ve never physically spent time together, so can we just drop it?” 

They change the subject, going back to the conversation from this afternoon that involved them trying to get you to go out. You loved your friends, they were your found family, but dammit they wouldn’t take no for an answer. 

“Wait, sorry, which apartment is his again?” Jeff asks in the middle of you telling them yet again why you weren’t going out with them. 

You all snap your heads to the other building, the one directly across from you now with lights on. “That one,” you say, Pierre-Luc appearing in the window, all of your friends running up to go wave to him. This was mortifying. Your phone started buzzing on the table, and with Pierre-Luc having his phone out for his friends to see, they knew it was from him.

“What did he say!” Tanaka yells, trying to grab your phone from you. 

“He said get your creepy friends away from the window,” you lie. If you told them he was asking to come over, they would steal your phone and make him come. “Guys, shouldn’t you be going by now? It’s almost 11, the deal at the bar ends at midnight and all of you are still sober,” you point out, praying that it would work.

“Let’s get drunk!” Amy says, grabbing her bag and marching out the door. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?” 

“Yep, I’m going to sleep. Text me when you’re all alive!” you say, pushing them out the door.

Your phone buzzes again, Pierre-Luc asking again if he could come now that your friends were gone. You wanted to say yes, but you knew that as soon as he came over, you would be asleep. Plus he just came from a game, there was no way he wasn’t also exhausted. ‘I’m about to pass out, I’m sorry. We’ll hang out eventually, I promise’

Four

You should be back in your apartment by now. You had told Pierre-Luc that you would be home by 11 pm. You had an early day the next day and staying out late wasn’t something you wanted to do, no matter how good your date went or how attractive you thought the guy was. 

Much to Pierre-Luc’s dismay, you had told him that your friend Amy had set you up with someone she knew from school. You were going out with him tonight, you Facetiming Pierre-Luc while getting ready. He should have just been over there, watching you get ready. No actually, he should have been the one taking you out, but at this point in whatever the hell relationship you had, the first thing that you were going to do in person with each other, besides that one time you fed the alley cat, was hang out in each other’s apartment. 

He was pacing, checking his phone to see if you had sent him anything about your whereabouts. You should have been home by now, why weren’t you home? If you weren’t home in ten minutes, he was going to call the police. No, they wouldn’t do anything. He would figure out how to hack your phone, try to find Amy on social media, something so that he would know you were safe. 

Sitting down on his couch, he positioned himself so he had a direct view of your apartment. As soon as you walked in the door and turn on the light to your living room, he would know. He needed that light to go on right now. 

‘Maybe I should go over and wait outside her door? Would that be creepy?’ he thought to himself, ‘I could say that I was just checking on you, which would technically be true. It’s not like you were going to bring the guy home, right? But what if you did and then I was there sitting outside your door. I can’t ruin things for you.’ 

Why has it taken him so long to even get over to your place? Or for you to come over to his? He hated that your schedules were just different enough that you couldn’t meet up. You were always running out the door when he was just getting home and vice versa. He couldn’t even fathom what he would do the first time he saw you in person.

He should have just kissed you when you were feeding the cat. He knows that he wants to date you, how could he not someone who was sweet enough to do something like that for a random cat but also unafraid to chirp him like his teammates? 

Your light goes on, him doing everything in his power to not jump up and go to his window, but that doesn’t stop him from watching what was happening.

Your date went well; you and David had really hit it off, leading to making out in the elevator ride up, stumbling into your apartment with your lips practically glued to his. You look across to Pierre-Luc’s apartment, him sitting there. You make eye contact with him, smiling because of David. David comes up behind you, starting to kiss you down your neck. You send a thumbs up to Pierre-Luc, closing the curtain as you let David do as he pleases.

Pierre-Luc sits on his couch, dumbfounded by what he just saw. That should have been him. He should have been the one in your apartment with you right now. 

+one

Saturday morning, sitting on your couch, watching Seinfeld. A cup of coffee, your phone, and a plate with some fruit on it, much like the first full day when you moved in. The sky was cloudless and blue, but you weren’t admiring it in the same way as you were that day. You were out with David last night, one month after your first date. You thought everything was going great, until he told you that he wanted to see other people. You shouldn’t have been surprised, he had been saying that he wasn’t sure he was ready for a relationship, but that didn’t mean it didn’t still hurt when he officially broke it off with you. 

‘You’re crying,’ a message from Pierre-Luc pops up on your screen. For a moment, you forgot your curtains were open, giving him a full view into your apartment. 

‘Yep,’ you reply back, not sure what else to say. He could see you, it’s not like you could lie to him. 

‘Need to talk about it?’ 

‘I don’t want to Facetime right now.’

‘Got it,’ was all he said. You look over at his apartment, just in time to see him shutting the door behind him. What the hell was he doing that he could ask you to Facetime and then leave right after? You let out a sigh, deciding to focus on the TV and try to force yourself to eat the fruit. You weren’t going to feel any better if your hunger turned into hanger, so you might as well eat the food that was in front of you. 

You didn’t know where your phone ended up; somewhere in the couch cushions maybe? On the floor? You didn’t even care, you just wanted to wallow and be dramatic for the day. What you weren’t expecting was the knock on your door, interrupting your favorite episode of the show. Getting up, not expecting anyone, you debated even opening the door when you hear his voice on the other side.

“Y/N, it’s me, open up.” You see Pierre-Luc standing there, a bag from the donut shop down the street in hand, a bunch of take out menus in the other.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, him pushing past you and plopping down on the couch, obviously already knowing the way around. 

“You were upset so I wanted to make sure you were alright,” he says, taking out the donuts, putting them on the plate with your fruit, popping a piece in his mouth. “You don’t have to talk about it, but at least this way we’re finally hanging out in person.”

There was something about seeing him sitting on your couch that just felt right. He looked so at home, his feet already up on your table in the way you sat pretty much all the time. He had already started up the episode, replaying it from the beginning so he could see it when you sit down beside him, tucking your feet underneath you. 

“Come here,” he says, reaching his arm out. You cuddle up next to him, your head on his shoulder as he plants a kiss on the top of your head. It felt so right. So much better than with David, so much better than with any of the other guys you had been with. 

“He dumped me,” you tell him, even though you were sure that you had already texted him that last night when you were on your way home. 

“He didn’t deserve you,” you hear him say. He mumbled something else, something you couldn’t quite make out. If he wanted you to hear it, he would have said it louder, you figured.

“He said I play hard to get?” you ask, unsure if that was true or not. Were you hard to get? You slept with the guy on the first night, Pierre-Luc had seen the beginning of it through the window. 

“No, you’re not hard to get, you’re hard to earn. Any guy would be lucky to have you. If I had you, I’d,” he stops himself, mentally kicking himself for opening that can of worms that he really didn’t want to dive into yet. You hadn’t even been out on a first date. If anything, maybe, this was your first date. 

“You’d what?” you say, sitting up, hoping he would continue. This was his first time in your apartment. Something you had both thought about a lot. You wanted to hear what he would do if you were together, hoping whatever he said would actually happen. 

“I’d feed the cat with you in the morning and then do it by myself in the afternoon if I didn’t have a game or something,” he starts, laughing, “I’d go out to breakfast with your friends even if we didn’t go out with them the night before. I’d even hang out with them whenever you did, even though they are a little crazy. You love the people around you, the animals that aren’t even your own pets. You deserve someone who will love you back the way you love everyone and everything.” 

You sit there for a moment, unsure of how to respond. “I should have been the one that night in here with you, not him,” he says, finally admitting it out loud. 

“Do something about it now, then,” you tell him.

“What?” he asks, stunned. 

“Forget that night you saw me with David, and do something now,” you insist. You had wanted this just as bad as he did, so why were either of you waiting?

He starts slow, sweet, his hand on your cheek as he presses his lips to yours. His lips move with yours, his tongue swiping your bottom lip as his other hand snakes it’s way around you back, picking you up from the seat next to you and placing you in his lap. Your hands go through his hair, your mind blank. This was what you had been waiting for since you first saw him.

He pulls away, his cheeks now red, a smile on his face, “I really hope I’m the only one who ever looked through your window.”

“If anyone else is looking then at least they get a little bit of a show,” you say, kissing him again. 

[vlogsquadssquad]

davids perfume

summary: y/n and David have an unspoken crush on each other but David releases the perfume ad and y/n doesn't know what to think

a/n: all this Charlotte and David drama had inspired me to write this. love you guys!

warnings: swearing, a teensy bit angst.

mood board:

- your pov

“alright guys, you ready?” david asks as he has his hand on the remote ready to push play.

i’m sitting next to him unable to sit still. our eyes meet as he glanced around to everyone. i smile, “yes, dave! i’m so excited, push play!”

he looks at me almost apologetically. and hesitates. “actually, i-“

“give me that!” i snatch the remote and push play and rub his shoulder as the music starts. he smiles at me with his lips but his eyes say something else. i watch the screen and the whole time he’s watching me.

my eyebrows raise at the more romantic parts of the video. he places his hand on my knee and i’m startled. i look to him and smile like everything’s ok. but my heart is on fire. i feel sick. as the music slows down a scene of her laying in the sheets and his hands all over her, my jaw drops. i didn’t know they were together. he squeezes my leg and i slowly make eye contact with the man next to me. i laugh in disbelief, and look back to the screen. the ending. finally.

“soo, what’d you think?” he asks everyone but only looks to me. i’m shocked and i don’t know what to say. how could i say it’s broken my heart in a million pieces, i’m in love with you but we’re only friends?

ilya finally chimes in, “dude, it’s a soft core porn. i’m gonna go wack it.” everyone laughs as ilya fakes going to his room. i’m still shocked. i just slept over at his house for a movie night and he had a girlfriend? i mean i slept on the couch but still.

“y/n? did you like it?” he asks me.

“yeah, i mean, wow, it’s just-it’s great! who directed it? i need their info now!” i chuckle. david smiles.

“you really liked it? your opinion is important to me.”

“uhm, well yes. i loved it.” i try to reassure him. “it’s very... romantic.”

“yeah, well all those ads are-“

my phone rings. “hello? yes. okay well can- so the part is booked? well i thought- okay i’ll be there soon.” i hung up the phone and smiled to david.

“i have to go, but i loved it. i’m happy, you’re happy, we’re all happy!” i shout as i grab my stuff and head out the door.

on the drive to my agents office i can’t help but feel the tears in my eyes. i try to stay calm and collected.

- davids pov

i head to my room looking for my phone. I find it on my nightstand and text in the group chat. “thoughts?” not even a second goes by when my messages are flooding in.

“where's part 2?”

“that was hot!”

“relationship goals!”

y/n ‘liked’ that last message. 

I slumped on my bed and I checked twitter. everyone was losing their minds. I felt overwhelmed so I checked tiktok, then instagram. maybe filming the ad wasn't a good idea. my manager convinced me to do it. 

as I scroll through instagram, I see charlottes post. “our kids?” I read aloud, confused. I comment back something very professional when I see y/n already liked the post. this is my worst nightmare. I think she thinks Charlotte and I are an item. I call y/n but it goes to voicemail. fuck.

I decide to livestream to occupy my mind. message after message I see people talking about the video. I very quickly try to shut it down the best way I knew how.

“congrats on the girlfriend, Dave.” I read and tried to laugh. “I don't have a girlfriend” I continue to laugh.

- your pov

its night time now. davids tried calling me 4 times now, but I just can't face him yet. how could I? its so complicated. I think I love him and I think- or I thought he loved me too. now I realize the flirty tiktoks, the insta stories were all just for likes and views. I place an order for chipotle. David was the one who got me hooked on it. I sigh and throw my phone on the couch.

 I put on some comfy clothes, aka a big shirt and no pants. I go to grab a drink from the fridge and I slump in the couch waiting for my food. as I scroll through all my social media I see people fawning over David and Charlotte. post after post, Im breaking as I read every word they're saying. my eyes go foggy with tears once again and I hear a knock on the door. 

“coming!” I wipe away the tears and grab some cash to tip. I open the door and im met with a beautiful face. 

“hey” he breathed. “I don't need any money, but thanks.” he smiled.

my hand fell and my body felt warm. “hi, come in!”

“thanks, uhm, I tried calling but...”

“yeah, i’m sorry, i’ve been busy.”

“have you?” he asks. 

I shrug and pout my lips. “I don't know what you want me to say, Dave.”

“I want to know what you're thinking, what you're feeling.”

“I don't want us to be weird. you're my best friend.” I confess

“y/n, I can promise you, it won't be weird.”

“I don't even know how to put it in words...” there's silence as I search for the words.

“y/n... ?”

“i’m so happy for you and Charlotte,” I look to the floor. “I just-i think ive been falling for you and didn't realize, but I promise ill be over it I just need some space, I don't want our friendship-” 

“okay, ill stop you there. there's no Charlotte and me. that video was filmed months ago, and it was awkward and a joke because those ads are always- look, it wasn't serious. it was for the ad, it was jacks idea, and I-”

“yeah, but that worries me too. is everything just about money and views for you?”

“what? y/n, how could you even say that, you know me!” his eyebrows were furrowed and his face was turning red.

“I don't know, I- I didn't think you'd exploit your relationship like that either-”

“there's no relationship!” he yells.

“I know, I know, but it makes it a little questionable still. Am I just a source of views for you, David. be honest.”

“no. not at all. I didn't know how to tell you but... fuck it. i’m insanely obsessed with you. i’m pretty sure you're my soulmate and when I think of my future, I always picture you beside me.” he sighs and takes my hands. “I want my life with you. after watching your reaction to the video I realized I made a mistake and I understand if you're upset with me. but I don't want to waste time anymore.”

I slightly smile. “you could've asked me to do the ad, i’m an actress you know.”

he chuckles. “I thought about it. but I didn't want to exploit you, despite how you think of me.”

I playfully slap his chest and bite my lip.

“I don't think that, Dave.” i’m almost whispering.

“good” he whispers back. “can I kiss you, I feel like this is a good first kiss momen-” I push my lips to his. the kiss is soft but David puts his hands on my waist and pulls me in deeper. my whole body melts into his and I feel whole. my life feels whole.

---

ahhhhhhhh so cute! thanks for reading!!!!

[chrisevansgoodgirl]

light of my life, fire of my loins. be a good baby, do what i want.

summary: requested: Andy Barber gives me such strong sugar daddy vibes I haven’t watched the show but he just looks like the kinda guy who would spoil the shit outta someone

warnings: smut everywhere. and you know, sugar daddy shit, so. also, doesn’t make a lot of sense. I have a lot more that I actually wrote, I just wasn’t sure where I was going with this. so...prompt sugar andy daddy if you want more???

word count: around 10,400

pairing: andy barber  x reader

a/n: anon! I want you to know that I started working on this as soon as you requested it! I just wanted to make sure I really got sugar daddy andy down and that it wasn’t steve rogers that I was writing. I am so sorry bc you definitely deserved this a very long time ago! if there are any typos, I apologize, I just needed to get this posted before work.

When you met Andy, you had been juggling three jobs, gaining more debt than you would probably ever be able to pull off even with a degree, fairly sucky grades caused by how much you worked, resulting in stress, anxiety, all that great shit that comes along with being someone in America that dares to want to pursue higher education.

After a few months dating Andy, you had one job that you only kept for autonomy reasons, shrinking debt, excellent grades, and truly, no stress at all. Instead of spending a night waiting tables at the restaurant near the campus, where disgusting men would flirt with you because you were on the clock and literally could not leave, you were in a tiny ass dress, covered in diamonds, drinking champagne, and trying not to be too obvious about the cum dripping down your thighs.

Obscene was often a word that you played with in your mind whenever you were with Andy. Your outfits were indecent because he loved seeing as much of your skin as he possibly could. Your behavior was shameless, you showed up, you laughed, you hung onto him the entire night with the smuggest of smiles. Your willingness, especially in public, was vulgar, the way you let him touch you in front of everyone. Salacious. Indecorous. Immoral. Debauched.

These parties that he took you to were only half of it. According to his son, Jacob, Andy hadn’t been one for socializing before the divorce. He claimed that this was something new his father picked up, something that he theorized was the consequence of loneliness. You figured that you also fell under that category. These people weren’t actually his friends and you weren’t actually his girlfriend.

Andy wanted a distraction and you were just fucked up and high-maintenance enough to be perfect for the job. Getting into the swing of things had been quite the task at the start, much to your surprise. Who didn’t want a gorgeous man to spoil them? Apparently you, if your earlier behavior was any indication.

You had started this with wanting to be as professional as possible. When you had pictured how this would look, it was you listening to him speak whenever he wanted, you would respond when prompted but it would be short, succinct, and your main concern would be maintaining your physical attractiveness. You tried to think of him as your employer, you were his employee, and that meant that there needed to be respect and boundaries. You pictured a lot of pretending. Pretending to laugh, pretending to care, pretending to enjoy his company, pretending to come.

You had also thought you were going to smart. This wasn’t some stupid Lifetime movie and you had dreams and goals and if you played your cards right, this man could put you on a sure path to reaching all you had ever hoped to accomplish. At least, that was what you were telling yourself when you’d had the mental quandary: were you a prostitute?

Thankfully, both phases of resistance had been dropped—possibly around the first time he went down on you. You were no expert, but “professional” probably barred him from fucking you in about 90% of his chosen locations. And whether you were a “prostitute”, an “escort”, a “hooker”, or whatever other demeaning word anyone could come up with, was another unimportant matter. Anyone could call you anything, at the end of the day, you had money.

It was supposed to be clean, a black and white exchange where you showed up and he paid you. At any point, you could step on the brakes, he could step on the brakes—something you had once found relief in, but was now a source of insecurity, not that you would ever tell him that. He didn’t need to know about your life, what you wanted to do after school, who your friends were, your shaky relationship with your parents, the reasons why someone like you wanted to enter this relationship.

But he asked about those things because rules seemed to either not exist to him, or they just weren’t meaningful. And you hadn’t felt pressured to answer or anything, if that was the case, you would have just lied. The fact of the matter was that eventually you told him these things because you didn’t mind him knowing about your life.

He was not supposed to be kind or smart or interesting. He was not supposed to be a good guy. Clearly, he didn’t get the memo. There should be an official organization that lets men know you can’t just be perfect and spoil someone if you look anything like Andrew Barber.

It was the middle of April in Massachusetts and that meant it was still just a little too chilly for the slinky slip Andy had picked out for you, but that was what all the champagne was for. You were buzzing and it wasn’t just that you were getting drunk. Summer was approaching and he often spoke about all of the things he wanted to do with you now that you had more free time and he gave you these looks and you could just get lost in his eyes and plans even though you knew better.

You had been doing this long enough that people had finally stopped staring. The first few times Andy brought you, they were blatant and downright rude, but it wasn’t like you could do anything about it. Despite the disproportionate wealth shared amongst this group, it wasn’t too often that someone brought along a much younger woman that they were undoubtedly paying. Most of these men were married and either brought their wives along or tales of their affairs.

The rich people here treated this like an elite group, so when people like you were around, not everyone was welcoming. The other few women that had similar situations to yours were kind enough and tried to get to know you better—shared experiences create great friendships, right? Andy didn’t think so, he discouraged any type of communication and claimed that it was because they didn’t tend to stick around long. You theorized he just didn’t want you spending time with anyone that wasn’t him.

The woman across from Andy, Francesca, had been around for as long as you could remember. She had long, dark brown hair, flawless eyebrows, a great jawline, and an even greater ass. She was a few years older than him and several older than you.

You often pondered just how much more interesting than you she was. See, she had never hidden that she was attracted to him, but Andy seemed oblivious. You couldn’t tell if he actually was or was just pretending not to notice. You told yourself it was deeper than just the age, that there was another, much different reason that he wasn’t interested in her.

But, of course, you couldn’t ask. You couldn’t talk to him about other women because that was teetering on the edge of possessiveness and jealousy. Those were two of the few luxuries that you would be denied. Romance would not be found here, just a lot of mutual lust and understanding.

She laughed at something he said, pulling you back into the moment. As you sipped on your champagne, you returned to your favorite activity at these parties: people watching. You were starting to pick up on some of the drama and whatever blanks were left at the end of the nights, Andy usually filled them for you.

There were certain types of men that always bred the most scandalous scenarios. Those are the same few men that had only just recently stopped trying to buy you away from Andy by offering you more money than he was paying you. Yes, technically, that was what you were here for, but Andy was not like these men.

For starters, most everyone in attendance was a lawyer. They followed the model of: the worse the job was, the better the pay. Unlike them, Andy didn’t represent sleazy, rich rapists or murderers. That was just the start of the differences. He didn’t get so drunk that he caused a scene at these parties, he didn’t touch drugs, and he wasn’t going through some tragic midlife crisis that he was trying to placate with cars or women.

When you looked back at the pair, Andy was texting and Francesca was eyeing your hand around the glass were sipping from. She was looking at your rings—oh, your rings. You loved your rings.

Originally, you’d thought you weren’t going to ask for or accept anything stupid. You just needed your bills paid, your rent, your car. You wanted to be able to eat more than once a day. Andy quickly realized that you wouldn’t ask, if he wanted you to have something, he was just going to have to give it to you.

(On your very first date, he’d given you a diamond bracelet. You had been stunned, maybe even a little uncomfortable. It was hard to accept such expensive items from strangers. However, you did like it and wore it almost every day even though it made no sense with most of your outfits. You’d simply grown fond of it because it had come from him.)

(On the fourth date, he gave you a three-strand diamond necklace that strongly resembled a collar. You adored it, not the way you adored your rings, but it still gave you butterflies whenever he would clasp it around your neck and then kiss the skin directly under it. These were things that he’d called gifts, but you recognized them for what they actually were, signs of ownership.)

The first ring had been a reward. You’d made it through midterms, so he took you to the jewelry shop that’s on the way back to your apartment from his house. After three hours and a lot of wine—you’d needed to be drunk the first few times you knew he was spending money on you—you left with the tiara ring for your pinky finger. It was a loud piece of intricate curls on top of and underneath a row of tiny hearts. This ring was the most special, the first, you rarely ever took it off—only for school.

The second had been an apology. He’d convinced you to spend the night at his house even though he knew you really didn’t want to. He had kissed your neck and your face and had two of his fingers inside you, he had whispered all the things he still wanted to do to you that night. Around two in the morning, you’d gone to get water from the kitchen. You were in a pair of panties and one of Andy’s shirts that you didn’t bother to button up. That was how you were dressed when you met his son for the first time. Two days later, you had the butterfly ring in its spot at the base of your index finger. It was gaudy and expensive but did little to quell your anger and humiliation. You loved it, nonetheless.

The third had been an anniversary present. This relationship had reached its 100-day mark, he took you to his favorite restaurant, the same one he had taken you to for your first date. Which wasn’t romantic at all, there were a lot of terms being discussed. This time had been much different. He asked you for your hand and slipped the ring onto your third finger without a word, he merely eyed the only empty finger with the unstated promise that that finger would soon have one as well. It was this huge oval cut diamond that covered the width of your finger, atop two bands of smaller but still fairly large identically cut diamonds.

A little less than three weeks after that, it had been…well, you still weren’t quite sure what the fourth ring was. It wasn’t often that Andy didn’t drive you. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, you had only one class so he would drop you off and pick you up during his lunch break so you could get coffee together. On Wednesdays and Fridays, you had more than one class so he would drop you off and he would pick you up when he got off work.

One Wednesday morning, your first class had been canceled so you ended up driving yourself. Andy took Wednesdays and Fridays as his early days off because he didn’t want you waiting in the library too long after your final class let out, so those had become the simple nights when he would come over to your apartment even though he really didn’t like it there—you figured he was struggling with the urge to buy you a much bigger apartment, one that would probably coincidentally be closer to his house as well.

You had made the plan to cook dinner that night so before heading home, you drove to the grocery store… Fortunately, no one was hurt. Unfortunately, at your place just in front of the stoplight, a car in the turn lane drove right into your car. Honestly, it wasn’t a big deal considering your life of absolute privilege and you just wanted to get the whole thing over with.

Andy wasn’t quite as level-headed. The other driver was a middle-aged man so Andy felt no reluctance in throwing a fit. You had been torn between being humiliated that he was fussing so much over you, flattered that he cared, angry that he was treating you like you were a fragile vase, or maybe just a little turned on because he was so angry.

That night, instead of your place, he took you to his house and spoiled the hell out of you. He undressed you and kissed you everywhere, he bundled you up in one of his sweaters and a throw blanket, sat you down on the bed, and made you hot chocolate. You were not allowed to lift a single finger. That was the first night you spent at his house, and since Jacob wasn’t there, Andy didn’t hesitate to fuck you for hours and make you scream as loudly as he wanted you to.

The next morning, when you woke up, the black velvet box was set on the pillow between you and him. He was propped up on the headboard with his laptop and the clock on his bedside table was saying that it was well past noon. Clearly, he decided to stay home from work and if there wasn’t jewelry in front of you, you would have given him a lecture.

It was a princess cut diamond—which he would later explain with ‘you are my princess’—with a double halo and a diamond-encrusted band. It was smaller than all the rest but somehow just went perfectly.

You weren’t bragging, at least not in a petty way. It was just that any time you noticed someone staring at your hand, you couldn’t help but try to draw more attention to it, or the other jewelry Andy showered you in.

You supposed that maybe that meant something, maybe during your little back and forth a few hours prior when he had accused you of being spoiled, he was onto something. Regardless, the only person who could be blamed for that was him.

You almost got lost in the diamonds on your hand when Andy reached out to you, pulling some hair over your shoulder. You looked up at him, he was smiling softly. “I’m sorry, did you say something?”

“Are you ready to go?”

He really didn’t like these parties; he was always the one that wanted to leave and would slyly place the blame on you. You were tired, you weren’t feeling well, you had a tough week and you just wanted to go home. You never minded because it wasn’t as if you got anything out of these parties either, and if that was the easiest way to pull him out of there, so be it. It was Sunday anyway, he had to work tomorrow and you had to go over your weekly schedule with him before the night was over.

“Sure.”

It started as a quiet drive, just like it always did, but then he placed his hand on your thigh. You glanced at him, arching an eyebrow. He simply smirked and kept his gaze on the road. You opened your legs wide, guiding two of his fingers inside you. “Can you feel your cum in me?”

“Not enough.”

“You’re the one that made me stand for almost an hour.”

“I’ll fill you up again before you go to class tomorrow.”

You snorted. “Lucky me.”

He shot you a look. “Oh, you don’t like it?”

“Never said that.”

“Well, if you don’t, I don’t need to—”

“I was kidding,” you whined.

He gave you a look, pretending he was unconvinced. “You’ve had an attitude all night.”

“You spanked me,” you reminded. The memory, the sore feeling on your ass whenever you sat down, had kept you wet all night. “Hard.”

“You talked back.”

You had because you wanted him to spank you. The first time he had, it was quite the discovery. It was after a drink, after you were feeling a little daring. He told you no, and you really hated when he did that. You couldn’t even remember what you had said, but it was bad, it was enough to get your skirt torn down, you bent over his knee, and well, the rest was a blissful blur.

This time it was because he was in a mood. You were getting dressed and he was watching you and that always meant something. You weren’t sure what exactly, but there were a few things you picked up on with Andy. When he wanted to be in control, he didn’t necessarily just want you to submit completely. When he gave you a look, you knew that he wanted you to fight just a bit. So, he told you to wear a specific dress and you refused initially. Cue the spanking. After your whole body felt hot and flushed and your legs were shaking and your cunt was dripping, you obliged, and he was so damn smug about it.

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, because my fingers are inside you and you want me to make you come.”

“Well…yes.”

He laughed and you couldn’t help but smile. You loved the sound of it. Andy so rarely laughed but you took it to mean that he felt comfortable enough around you. “If you can be patient, I’ll fuck you when we get home.”

Home. His home. Whatever. “And if I can’t?”

“Then you’re going to have to wait until the morning and I might not feel like letting you come. Deal?”

You nodded. “Deal.”

But he didn’t play fair. He drove slower than usual, fingers still buried inside you, and he moved them. A lot. He tried to cover it with stupid things, like driving over a pothole or making a sharp turn. If you moved your hips once, just barely, you lost. So, you sat there, completely still, gripping the seat like it was a lifeline.

Upstairs, you waited for him to make the rounds. Jacob wasn’t there, thankfully, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been there earlier. Andy went around every door and window and made sure they were locked.

In that time, you got undressed and waited for him. You had a couple of red marks across your ass that you could see in the mirror on the opposite end of the bedroom. He always liked seeing your skin marked up in some way if he was the reason.

When he entered the room, you were sitting on the edge of the bed. “Stand up.”

You quickly did so, turning your back to him so he could see your ass. His palms lightly felt along the marked skin there. “It doesn’t hurt.”

He rarely asked, but you found that he fucked you better when he knew for sure. You just started letting him know and it seemed he trusted you enough to voice any boundaries you had if he ever crossed them.

One hand slowly trailed up your spine and slid across to your shoulder. He pressed you down quickly and you caught yourself on the mattress with both hands. You could hardly stay still as you heard his belt and zipper.

He easily pushed into you, body flush against yours. He let you adjust around him, staying perfectly still as he leaned over you and kissed your back, neck, and shoulders. Andy didn’t move until you angled your hips and pressed back a little more, whimpering nonsense.

This was so unlike the two times earlier. In the closet, after he spanked you, he sat you on top of his lap and made you ride him. At the party, in the bathroom, he stood you in front of the mirror and gently fucked you until he had filled you with his cum. This was fast, rough, and maybe a little detached if you really thought about it.

Andy took your waist in both hands and held you in place as he pounded into you relentlessly. Slapping skin, your soaking wet pussy, the bed banging against the wall on his particularly hard thrusts, these had become noises you were more than used to, noises you had grown to crave. Being with Andy was never supposed to be like this, but you didn’t have a single complaint.

You buried your face in the blankets, hands clutching tight at the sheets around you as your muffled screams filled the room. You knew he was close when his hands began to wander. One carded through your hair and pressed you down more, the other moved under you to reach your clit.

“You were such a good girl in the car.”

Your response was unintelligible, but yes. You had been more than just good. You had waited for him even though he was being a tease, and now, you wanted what he owed you. Which he didn’t deny you, not for a second.

He made you come. Once. Twice. Maybe three times. But after that, it was all just nonsense, satisfying, endless nonsense. He was still holding you by the hair, but he’d turned your head so you could breathe, and he was still circling his fingers around your clit.

Your back arched, allowing him in deeper—one of the tells of your approaching orgasm. You felt your pussy tighten around his fingers and began begging him to let you come. Even in this hazy, fucked-out state, you wanted to please him, you wanted his praise and approval.

He gave you permission like he always did and fully intended to fuck you through it. He only paused because he felt you spilling down his thighs, felt the wet sheets against his skin, heard light drops on the hardwood floor. Fuck.

He pulled you against him immediately, your sweat-slicked back to his chest. One arm draped across your chest, the opposite hand wrapped around your neck. You were watching him, eyes clear with curiosity. “You just squirted, princess.”

You blinked and attempted to voice your confusion. Problem was, his hips were still moving. You had no time to recover and there was no chance your brain had at making sense of anything in that moment.

“It was fucking hot and you’re going to do it again.”

Needless to say, you skipped classes the next day.

Andy liked to celebrate the monthly anniversaries.

He was big on creating traditions, you assumed that was just that part of him that had been hardwired to crave a normal family. He hadn’t told you much about his life and you didn’t want to pry—his dad wasn’t around and his mom had been but she died when he was pretty young. He shared this only after he asked about your parents.

The most personal he had ever gotten with you was one night when he had intended to take advantage of your drunk and thoroughly fucked state, obviously convinced that you wouldn’t remember the question in the morning. Do you believe in love?

It was weird given the setting and that you and Andy simply didn’t talk like that. It was dangerous because this could never be more than it was. You were both only allowed feelings of lust, maybe even obsession, but nothing of the usual sense. And Andy was so strict and controlled, you were surprised he would cross any sort of line.

You tried to play it off, tried to tell him that you had more important things to worry about. He didn’t like that response. He pressed because he was just like that, his career was all about pressing and sometimes, he brought it home. You ended up telling him that you viewed marriage as a waste of time. Your parents divorced, all your aunts and uncles, even the younger friends who got married out of high school were on the fast track to messy court dates and vicious custody battles. You also pointed out his situation. If someone as perfect as him couldn’t stay married, no one could.

It was then that he told you the happiest moments of his life were carving pumpkins or decorating the Christmas tree with Jacob. He had loved Valentine’s Day with Laurie, he was the one that had always insisted on doing something. He even looked forward to the smaller holidays, Independence Day, Memorial Day, any day that got Jacob out of school and him an extra day off so they could have a cookout in the backyard.

It wasn’t his intent, but it had sort of created a barrier between you two. You wished he still had his family even if that meant never meeting him. He was that kind of man, a good man, and you could tell that it weighed on him every day that he no longer had his perfect family.

He’d never pictured his life like this, a failed marriage, a child separated between his parents. He never would have entertained the idea of needing someone like you. He didn’t say that last part, but you knew. Sometimes, it was just in the way he looked at you. You feared he would grow to resent you one day, but you always tried to push that thought far away.

Regardless, the distance was there and he realized it even if he didn’t say it. There was also the matter that school had just let out meaning you had zero excuses for saying no to him when he proposed the trip to New York that would coincide with the 7-month mark of your relationship.

You’d never been and you’d always wanted to see Moulin Rouge on Broadway. He’d decided to drive to New York because you had once made the mistake of telling him you hated airports. It was a short road trip, one you weren’t entirely unwelcoming of. Especially not when he kept his hand on your thigh most of the time. It was late when you made it to the hotel and surprisingly, he had no issues with you diving straight into bed.

The morning was quite different. The hotel window had a perfect view of the city and he felt inclined to fuck you against it as soon as you both woke up. Then, he wanted to take you shopping. For nearly two entire days, he spoiled the hell out of you. Anywhere you wanted to go, he would take you. Anything you glanced at, he wanted to buy it for you.

On the night of the show, he finally took you to Victoria’s Secret. You’d seen pictures of it before, but you had not anticipated how beautiful it would look in person. You went crazy, you took him to the fitting room and tortured him on every single floor with both clothing and lingerie. Several hours had been devoted to teasing him and he let you know that after the show, you would regret your decisions.

Before you managed to get him back to the hotel so you could get ready, he needed to spend another awful amount of money on you. There was a jewelry shop just down the street from Victoria’s Secret and he couldn’t let you leave the state—as he claimed when he saw you frown—without at least one diamond.

You wanted nothing, but you knew the chances of him allowing that were nonexistent. So, you told yourself to keep it small, but one thing that had become a harsh reality since you met Andy: you were a sad, pathetic victim to larger, shinier diamonds. You immediately fell in love with a short string of sizable heart-shaped diamonds, the one larger heart dangling in the center is what had caught your eye.

Regardless of this terrible habit you had developed—this feeling that you craved, the pure joy that you got from people knowing that Andy was buying you diamonds—you tried to protest when he caught you staring. You just wanted a bracelet, really. He rarely ever gave you bracelets.

Instead, he sent you off to get coffee. You knew exactly why that was. He often got rid of you when he was about to make decisions that he knew would make you feel bad. You wanted to refuse, but what was better? Blissful ignorance or sitting there just watching him toss out the money for that necklace?

Learning what Andy liked at Starbucks had been a process. He didn’t like his coffee sweet so that eliminated 90% of the menu. His home coffee was some brand you’d never even heard of, the shops he went to were all nearly older than him. He liked cappuccinos with extra espresso, but he preferred the straightforward coffee he would get anywhere else, so he claimed. However, you knew he liked pumpkin spice lattes. You planned to prove it the day they released them for the year.

When he came out, the bag in his hand was much larger than one that would be used for just a necklace. He smiled at the horrified look you shot him and claimed that he was given a great deal for the entire set.

While you were getting ready for the show, you realized that this was the most normal you had felt with Andy in a while. There had been tension that neither of you wanted to address, but this trip was making you realize just how stupid that tension was. One day, this was going to end. It was impractical to think an arrangement like this was going to have a long shelf-life.

Shouldn’t you just enjoy it? Being here with him was fun. You liked the city and all the noise and bustle. You also liked being with him away from home and the lives you two had created long before you met one another. This was just you two, isolated together. Normally, you couldn’t ask that of him. He had his job and he was a father and you understood that completely, but you liked this.

During the show, Andy whispered to you several times. He couldn’t wait to be fucking you. He couldn’t wait to taste you. He couldn’t wait to hear you scream and cry and beg. He placed your hand over his lap just so you could feel how hard he was.

Back at the hotel, and maybe it was because of all that he had said, you didn’t want to tease. Almost immediately, you stripped completely naked—fuck all of that expensive lingerie, apparently.

He finally gave you your diamonds. He started with the necklace and you couldn’t even be upset. It fit you so well, you loved seeing it against your skin, you loved seeing how he looked at you while you were wearing it. Then, he gave you the matching bracelet. You had said you wanted a bracelet, right? You couldn’t complain. The earrings, you told yourself, were fine because you didn’t have a pair of diamond earrings yet.

You felt weighed down by these diamonds but not in a bad way. You felt tied to him, owned like you were one of his prized possessions. It was temporary, you reasoned, so was there any real harm in that? He watched you climb off the bed he had ordered you on mere minutes ago, arching an eyebrow as you lowered to your knees before him.

Andy rarely had the patience to let you go down on him, despite loving the feeling. Mostly, his main source of pleasure came from the things he could make you feel. He also couldn’t understand what you got out of letting him fuck your mouth. You weren’t much of a fan before Andy, you could admit since you had a total of zero pleasant experiences, but you felt that this was your only way of spoiling him.

It was nonnegotiable tonight, you would throw a fit if needed. You looked up at him for a moment, almost asking for permission. But not quite, maybe more for compliance. His promise was made by unzipping his pants for you and then letting his hands fall to his sides.

You took him out of his pants and opened your mouth. Staring up at him again, you took as much of him as you could. He was fine until he felt you gag, then his jaw set and his hands became fists.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

Moaning around him, you slowly pulled back. One of his hands disappeared in your hair before you could get too far. He had to keep you there for a moment, attempting to calm himself down because he could tell how much you wanted this.

He brought his hand forward, touching your cheekbone. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He slipped his fingers under your jaw and thrust his hips forward gently. He didn’t go too deep and it was at a torturous pace that he pulled out. This man’s control was one of the sexiest things about him. It made him seem so powerful and stable and that was what you craved more than anything in this world.

“Touch yourself,” he directed.

Your hand dove down, two fingers instantly burying inside your pussy. You moaned loudly around him and he cursed again.

“You want me to fuck your face?”

You nodded as well as you could.

He nodded, taking another deep breath. His hold under your face tightened just a bit, thumb and fingers pressing into your jaw. He didn’t thrust, instead, he moved you with his hand. Each time he brought you down on him, he made sure to choke you a little because he knew you liked it.

By the time he was close, your jaw was sore, made worse by his tight hold, your ribs hurt from how hard you had been gagging, the back of your throat was testament that he had lost it a couple of times, and went a bit harder than he meant to. Your entire hand was wet, your thighs shaking and your hips still rolling.

He told you to come with him, told you he wasn’t going to until you did. You pressed the heel of your palm down on your clit and fucked your hand harder. Andy brought you down as far as your throat would allow and held you there, moaning as you attempted to swallow around him.

His hand slid down to your neck and he began to squeeze when he knew you were close, hips moving fast and sloppy. You placed one hand on his thigh to keep yourself balanced, turning your gaze up to him once more.

You felt him start to spill down your throat. He moved harder, hips jerking and cock slamming into the back of your throat each time. The cum that was in your mouth was now beginning to slip out from the sides of your lips.

He pulled out before he was done, one hand in your hair to angle your head back, his other hand stroking his cock as his cum leaked out along your jaw and neck. “God damn, you are fucking gorgeous.”

You stared at him as the tip of your tongue came out to the corner of your mouth where you felt some of his cum.

Immediately, he pulled you onto your feet and shoved you back onto the bed. He was on top of you instantly, using his fingers to collect his cum off your skin so he could feed it to you. As you laid there, licking his fingers, he brought his opposite hand down to your pussy.

“I love feeling your cunt after you’ve just finished.” He teased you several times, just dipping the tips of his fingers in before he pushed two inside you.

You whimpered, lips closed around his fingers. Once he pulled them out, your mouth was free to speak, which was rarely ever a good thing when you two were in bed. “Well, are you going to get inside me, or did you need a minute?”

He arched an eyebrow—it didn’t bother him when you joked about his age, but he pretended it was grounds for true punishment. “Maybe I need several minutes, I guess I just have to keep you coming until then, huh?”

You hummed in protest.

He brought his hand up to grab your jaw, wet fingers pressing tightly into your skin. His lips hovered over yours as he asked, “You’re such a fucking brat, you know that?”

You smiled. “Yes.”

He scoffed. “You’re shameless. I don’t know how you got this bad.”

But he did know, and he would do whatever he possibly could to ensure that you would just get worse. Andy’s success was measured by your bratty episodes. It showed how comfortable you had become with him but also just how much you wanted him.

For the record, you weren’t accusing Andy of being some evil mastermind who had planned this whole…ordeal. That would be insane because it would imply a lot of things that you knew were simply not true about him. He wasn’t a bad person, he was actually one of the best that you had ever met.

But…he was a lawyer. He had picked up some bad habits that came along with that. That meant, that though he didn’t plan this, he was enjoying it thoroughly. In short, you were accusing him of being an opportunist.

The first time you met Andy, he had brought Jacob to that hellhole of a restaurant you used to work at. So, technically Jacob knew you, but he was on his phone the entire time and they were low-maintenance customers, so he’d maybe seen you for a total of 5 minutes over their 2-hour stay. Andy did come back and bring Jacob several times, but it was always the same. He never paid you any mind, and why would he?

So, when you “met” him, half-naked and covered in bruises and bites—something that still made you glare at Andy if you thought about it too much—Jacob already knew you. He just didn’t know you. And after that one encounter, you couldn’t imagine what he thought of you.

This made you realize just how worried you were about how temporary you knew you were. Andy hadn’t said anything so you wondered if Jacob just didn’t tell Laurie. You wondered if she would even care if he had told her. Maybe Andy did this all the time, maybe she just couldn’t be bothered because they weren’t married anymore. You had no idea because Andy rarely spoke to you about Jacob and never spoke about Laurie.

Your grand solution was just trying to avoid Jacob at all costs. Mostly, you were successful, and Andy didn’t seem to mind, per se, but he did not encourage it. He loved his son and he didn’t want part of his life to be completely unknown to Jacob, but you kind of did.

It was one terrible morning when you were a bit hungover from the night before and Andy was making breakfast. He’d just set down a plate of pancakes in front of you, kissed you on top of the head because you were letting him baby you, when Jacob came in, so you didn’t even have an excuse to leave. It would be pathetically clear what you were doing. Were you seriously scared of a 17-year-old boy?

Yes. But you could pretend you weren’t, and you would pretend. There was no other choice. It wasn’t until you were all sitting down for the world’s most awkward breakfast that Andy’s phone rang. He often got calls in the morning and you never minded. Until then.

You shot him a threatening look that he clearly didn’t take seriously. He excused himself and with each step further away, your desire to suddenly die increased.

There was more painfully awkward silence and you wracked your brain for ways to fix it. You could ask him about school, his plans for the day. But that was the easy part. How were you going to word the question casually, unforced? You didn’t have to think on that much longer because he decided to speak first.

“Is my dad your, like, sugar daddy?”

And before you were subjected to having to respond, his friends showed up. Which was great because you couldn’t have formed a response if your life depended on it. But that shock had well worn off by the time Andy returned. He was throwing out apologies and explaining that he was being given an update on one of his cases. He seemed unaware of your silence until he realized Jacob was gone.

“Where’s Jake?”

“He left with his friends.”

“Oh.” He sat down at the table and you glared. “Come on, I didn’t know he was going to be here—”

“He just asked me if you’re my sugar daddy!”

“Well, I am.”

“You are not.”

He lifted his eyebrows. “Then what am I? I pay your bills, I buy you things, in return, you spend most of your free time with me. What does that make me?”

You were mad but not about the idea that he was your sugar daddy. Of course, you’d played with that phrase a few times, but it seemed so unrepresentative of your relationship. At least, to you. He clearly saw it that way, and maybe you weren’t even mad about that.

You might not have been mad at all, maybe just scared. You knew that Andy was in love with his ex-wife still and he always would be. She was this terrifying person that you’d never met that essentially held the cards to your life. You figured that if she expressed any anger towards Andy’s relationship with you, that you would be gone. You would have to go back to your life before, like when the carriage was a pumpkin. And the scariest part of that was not that you had no money. It was that you two would just be done as if you never even happened at all.

“Your boyfriend?” he pressed.

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever.”

“Don’t roll your eyes at me,” he warned.

“I’m going home.”

“No, you’re not.”

Once more, you rolled your eyes. You pushed away from the table and stormed out of the kitchen and to his bedroom.

He came in moments later after you had thrown his shirt on the bed. You were in nothing more than a pair of panties as you searched for where he’d tossed your clothes the night before. He shut the door and locked it, but you refused to respond to his tactics to make you talk.

“Get on the bed.”

You scoffed incredulously, turning over your shoulder to him with raised eyebrows. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”

His hand wrapped around one of your arms and he spun you back to him. You set your hands on his chest to push him away, but he pulled you in so tight that you couldn’t move. He kissed you like it had been years since he last did so, in reality, it had been a little over an hour. It was demanding and fast, he left you no room to protest, but it wasn’t like that mattered because with each passing second, you were giving in.

His free hand slid down between your legs and you broke the kiss to moan. Your head fell back, your body pressed closer to him. It wasn’t a surrender exactly, just a promise that you would get over it and never bring it up again.

But then he said, “Call me daddy.”

You froze, turning your head back to him. “What?”

“Call me daddy,” he repeated. “You want to come? Tell daddy how to make you come.”

It was just a matter of time before it was brought up. Unbeknownst to him, it was on your mind. Unbeknownst to you, it was on his. He hadn’t been the kind for it, then he met you. There was something primal inside him that was triggered when you would whimper and whine, when you were choking on his cock and staring up at him with your beautiful eyes, when you were crying his name. And sometimes, it didn’t completely sound unlike daddy. When you were breathless and fucked good, and nearly mindless. Sometimes, it was close enough that it made him wonder what it would be like.

And you’d been curious too. Ever since he spanked you the first time. You saw Andy as this powerful, good man. He was perfect and didn’t even know it. But all of that was what everyone could see. There were these dark parts of him that made you wet just thinking about. You would never tell him, but once, just one time, he was busy and couldn’t see you one weekend. Meaning you had to take care of yourself. Your dreams were vivid and filthy, and you might have called him daddy in one…so, yeah.

“I’m not going to touch you if you can’t follow orders, princess.”

It took you a moment to find your voice, especially with the way he was looking down at you. “I…don’t know…” It felt weird, like you were admitting this terrible secret. You were aware he had asked you to, but it still felt wrong. Kind of.

“Well,” his fingers slid over you again, a teasing touch that was too light for any real relief, “do you want daddy’s fingers?”

You nodded.

“What about daddy’s cock?”

“Yes.”

“Or maybe daddy’s mouth?” He kissed your forehead first, then your cheek, and finally all over your neck. “Hmm?”

“Yeah, that’s what I want.”

“You know what I want,” he pointed out, pulling back to look at you. “Tell me what you want first.”

He was not letting you out of this and did you actually want him to? Andy was a complete daddy. He spoiled the hell out of, almost literally got off on taking care of you, and he was a kind, beautiful man who had no problems fucking you like he hated you.

“Will you eat my pussy, Daddy?”

Wordlessly, he sat you down on the bed and pushed you onto your back by your shoulders. His eyes on yours, he took you with his mouth over your panties and any doubts you had about this just faded away.

Your breath was shaking as he held you down, his hands gripping your arms tight. You draped your legs over his shoulders and pulled him closer. He pressed his tongue flat against you each time he licked up your aching cunt. “Oh, god,” you blurted out when you felt him at your clit.

He turned his head, nipping at your thigh. It was a prompt.

“Daddy,” you breathed, and he returned his mouth to you. “Daddy, please.”

He hummed. What are you asking for?

“Please, take them off,” you begged.

His fingers slipped under the band of your underwear and he tore them into pieces, without any skill whatsoever, as his tongue sought out bare skin. You’d heard several tears by the time his tongue was inside you.

You arched your back and grabbed a hold of his hair with both hands. He almost instantly took your hands and held them down to the bed again. “Daddy, don’t stop. Please don’t stop. Please make me come.”

He pulled your clit between his lips and you knew that you weren’t going to last much longer. You knew this was your biggest loss so far. He was never going to let you forget that you’d come up here throwing a fit, trying to push him away, only to beg him to eat you out.

Your hips rolled against his face, he seemed surprised for a moment, but he moaned against you, so you kept doing it. “Can I come, Daddy? Please?”

He hummed again, a confirmation.

When you moved instead of waiting for him, you could feel his beard. That was the only reason you kept canting your hips up to meet the swipes of his tongue that were toeing the line of being too good.

He let his tongue drop down to tease your entrance, earning a frustrated whine from you. Your clit wasn’t neglected for long, you felt the tip of his nose hovering just right there. So, if you were to move, if you bucked your hips just right, you discovered quickly just how to get the right kind of pressure there.

Andy loved every second of it, he loved the smell of you and the taste of you, and he knew he was never going to be a better position to indulge in both. You were wild even though he was pinning you down, you were hardly ever this desperate, this upfront with your desire. It was the sexiest thing he ever witnessed.

You finished on his tongue and he let no drop of you go to waste. He was selfish in the way he ran his mouth along the oversensitive parts of you. Before reality had even made its way back to you, he’d placed you on your knees before him. Your body was moving without your brain, like pure instinct. Your mouth opened for him before you even knew you were on the floor and you took him in as deep as you could.

He took a handful of your hair and held you in place, hips slowly, gently moving back and forth. You were gagging around him but he was letting you get used to it, telling you that you were such a good girl, reminding you how well you knew how to suck his cock, how you’d always been so good at it.

He didn’t want to come in your mouth, he just wanted to get close. He threw you down on the bed just as soon as he’d gotten you back on your feet and then he was on top of you. His hand wrapped around your neck as he slotted his hips between your thighs.

His eyes locked on yours, he slowly sunk into you. It was damn near painful the kind of restraint he was using, how he was denying you that fast kind of fucking he knew you loved. He pulled back, using his knees for balance, and kept his hold on your throat.

His thrusts were too gentle, several agonizing times, until you were squirming and whimpering. He didn’t seem concerned with what you wanted then, he merely kept his eyes moving over your body.

“Andy,” you complained.

He tsked. “Baby girl.”

“Daddy,” you corrected instantly. “Daddy, please. I need you to fuck me.”

Instead, he leaned back down and kissed you. He started at your mouth and then moved to your jaw. His hips barely moved, just enough to keep you on this edge of murderous rage. Seriously? After what you just went through? He wasn’t going to fuck you to make it up to you?

He sat back again and tightened his hand when you opened your mouth. It was the nicest way he was ever going to tell you to shut up, but he was telling you to. You were too scared to show any signs of disobedience at this point.

He pulled out and you whined unintelligibly. You received nothing more than a brief ‘hush’ before he was laying down next to you. He was on his side, propping one of your legs over his hip as he slid back into you. He lifted you up so you could lay your head on his bicep and used that arm to grab your opposite thigh, pulling it out to the side so you were completely open for him.

“Daddy,” you mewled. You couldn’t keep doing this, you needed to come. You needed him to make you come. He dragged his cock out and then shoved back in, earning a strangled yelp from you. You brought both hands up to hold the forearm that was still pressed between your breasts.

It was then that he started this horrible pattern of fucking you hard, hard, until you were just about to come. You would be shaking, begging like you never had before, promising you would never talk back to him again, and then he would just stop.

He never denied your orgasm. If anything, he just threatened to, didn’t follow through, then made weak threats that he would next time. It was a nice routine and you weren’t sure why he wanted to ruin it.

He told you to leave your thigh where it was and then brought that hand up. He started at your mouth, he ordered you to close your lips around his fingers. He was choking you still and now gagging you and you were abruptly lightheaded. He’d never given you a safe word, you were sure he never intended to go too far. The idea that he might, though… Ugh.

He pulled his fingers from your mouth and they were soaking wet because he didn’t give you the chance to swallow. He dragged them down your body, stopping to pinch one of your nipples painfully until you gasped, and then down to your pussy.

Tears filled your eyes immediately as he pressed his fingers down on your clit. He kissed the side of your face several times before stating, “I can’t keep giving you what you want if you’re going to be such a brat, baby.”

“I’m not being a brat,” you protested.

“You’re not?”

“No.”

“Okay,” he scoffed. His fingers began to rub circles into you.

You shot him a desperate look. “Daddy, please I need you to make me come.”

He arched an eyebrow, hips still but hand moving. “Oh, you need me to?”

“No one else makes me come like you do.” It was clear that you were just saying anything you could think to make him give in. True? Yes. But were the words sincere? Not at all, and you didn’t want him to know that. Yes, you liked spending time with Andy, you even loved fucking him, but this was not a relationship. It was an arrangement first and you had to protect yourself.

He rolled his eyes at you. “Transparent.”

You let your head fall back into the pillow with an exaggerated sigh. “Please?”

“No.”

You looked at him instantly, eyebrows pulling together. “What?”

“No,” he repeated slowly.

He’d never just told you no. Maybe in a roundabout way, he’d talked his way through the fact of no, but never once had he just out and said it. You had no idea how to reply. After all, he was in charge here. If he said no, did you have to accept it?

He brought his fingers down to where your bodies were connected and pulled out completely. He dipped his fingers into you at the same time he was easing his cock back in.

You bit down on your lip, willing yourself to relax. He was always a tight fit, even without the addition of two of his thick fingers, even on those weeks when he fucked you every day, numerous times a day.

“You’re okay,” he promised. “You can take it.”

You tried spreading your legs even more, hoping that would make him easier to take.

“Good girl.” He pulled his cock and fingers out briefly before working them both back in simultaneously. “How’s it feel, baby?”

“It hurts a little.”

“But you can take it, can’t you?” He kissed along your cheekbone. “You want it, right? Because you’re my good girl.”

You were nodding before you even truly thought about it. You wanted anything he wanted to give you, in reality. You supposed this was not the exception to that rule.

He continued pulling out and teasing back in, going just a little deeper each time.

Your cunt was aching by the time you propped yourself up on your elbows to see. The sight of him inside you was sinful and delicious.

He felt you flutter around him and kissed the side of your face again. “You like when I stretch you out, baby?”

You nodded. That was exactly how you felt. Stretched. It still hurt but not in any kind of way that you didn’t like. Your cheeks were flushed since he’d been denying you a finish, otherwise, you would be blushing terribly. It was a toe-in-the-water of humiliation, you felt a little objectified, or reduced to a single body part. Again, not something you were opposed to because your mind was fucked up enough that your body would respond ecstatically to anything Andy wanted to do to it.

“Do you want another one?”

You weren’t sure, but that didn’t stop you from claiming you did. You watched the tip of his third finger collect the slick on the base of his cock and slide into you. He began pulling out and gently pushing both fingers and cock back in until he was buried several inches and two knuckles into your pussy.

“You are soaked, baby.”

Part of you hated that. How bratty could you be from here on out if you were this wet for him? If your cunt was literally begging him for more of his fingers? That was the pride part of you. The sick part of you stopped to think about how he had 7 more fingers to fuck you with, if he wanted. “Can I have another?”

He smirked. “I think 3 is enough tonight, princess. I don’t want to hurt you too much.”

“I want all your fingers inside me, daddy.”

He scoffed. “Not sure that’s possible, you’re still so tight. But I do have a little more I can give you.” As he pressed more of his fingers in, beyond that second knuckle which made you gasp and squirm because it burned, he also gave you more of his cock.

You were shaking, hand settling on his forearm once more. “Oh, daddy…I feel so full.”

“And your desperate cunt still wants more?”

“Anything from you, daddy. Can I please come?”

He didn’t answer, his hips merely began moving. He roughly fucked into you as he pulled just so with his fingers to keep you painfully stretched.

You were getting close again. That stinging sensation was starting to fade away with the building pleasure. When he angled his hand and let his thumb massage your clit, you knew you wouldn’t last much longer. “Daddy, please.”

“You can’t come.”

You whined. “Daddy!”

“I said no.”

You pressed your hand to his stomach to still his hips, but he paid you no mind. “Daddy, I’m going to come.”

“You better not,” he warned, but didn’t do anything to help you want that. If anything, his hips snapped a bit harder.

“Please stop, daddy,” you begged, voice pathetically small and whiny. You didn’t care how you sounded or looked, you just didn’t want to come without him letting you. You didn’t want to disappoint him. “Daddy, I’m close. Please stop.”

He scoffed, free hand coming up to your face. “You’re such a good girl, you know that?”

You frantically shook your head. You weren’t so good that you wouldn’t come, so really, you needed him to stop.

“You don’t want to come without my permission?”

“No, daddy.”

He pressed his thumb down harder and rubbed faster, earning an unintelligible, sad sound from you. “It’s okay, baby girl, you can come. Daddy wants to feel you coming around his cock.”

You lifted your hand back up to his arm, trying to turn into his body as much as you could. He understood immediately and moved his hold from your neck to drape his arm across you, resting his hand on your back. You set your head in the bend of his neck as you started to come.

He groaned when he felt you get tighter. “That’s it, baby. That’s what I wanna feel.”

Tears were rolling down your cheeks by the time you were coming. Your body had never felt relief so strong. Andy shushed you through it all and told you that you were so good and didn’t stop until he had you filled with his cum.

He let you settle before urging you onto your back. “You okay, baby?”

“Yes, daddy.” You were more than just okay. You were sated and aching, you were exhausted and blissful. It had been a while since he’d spent so much time on you and you felt good, doted on, paid attention to.

He carefully pulled his fingers from your cunt, eyeing your face as he did, but then quickly took your jaw in one hand and shoved the fingers into your mouth. You instantly began sucking on them. “A few things. First, you do not roll your eyes at me. Second, you do not leave the table unless I tell you that you can. Third, do not ever walk away from me. Fourth, when I tell you to get your ass on the bed, you better get your ass on the bed. Are we clear?”

You nodded, speaking around his fingers.

“Glad to hear it.” He slowly extracted his fingers, massaging your jaw with the opposite hand. “When you can walk again, I’ll take you shopping—”

You hurriedly jumped out of bed, rushing for the shower. “I’ll be ready in an hour!”

requests to be tagged:

@onetwo3000​ @chris-evans-indian-fanfic​

[tundrainafrica]

Title: A Tale of Two Slaves (9/?)

Summary:  “Soulmates don’t exist. Fate doesn’t exist. Everything is a choice.” At that moment, Levi could only watch as she made the choice for him.“

Reincarnation AU. Levi remembers everything from their past life. Hange doesn’t.

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 

Link to cross-postings: AO3

The oval stretched out in front of him, much wider than his range of vision but Levi felt no need to look around him and take in the whole view. It was the largest oval in his city and having been one of the more active high jumpers the past five years, he had been there enough to memorize it inside and out.

That particular day, instead of being out there in the field doing warm up jumps like he had been for the past decade of his life, he was on the bleachers, a few seats away from the front. He was merely a part of the audience, an oddly surreal experience. For years, Levi had never given the audience a passing thought after all. His world during those few hours on the track had consisted of the bar he had to jump over, the jumper before him, his coach and teammates on the bench and maybe some the interviewers who would flock to him after the medal ceremony.

Although he had gone to that track so many times before, somehow it felt like he was experiencing it for the first time.

He was unprepared as well. Levi found himself pushing his hands farther into his hoodie huddling for whatever warmth it could afford him. Possibly it was the long days he had spent indoors that had made him unready for how cold mid autumn could actually be.

The past two weeks leading up to that particular night, Levi had not left the comforts of Hange's apartment much aside from for the occasional check up or regular therapy session. When he wasn't writing or making sense of new dreams, he spent most of his days catching up with schoolwork or trying to help around her apartment even with his injury.

With the long hours he had spent indoors, he was almost sedentary in comparison to the twice a day training and it was a drastic change. As he watched the other athletes warm up on the track, he was unable to fathom how he had survived long ago in light athletic wear. He started to wonder how much he had changed. If his knee wasn’t casted or buckling at the slightest weight, if he had a perfectly good knee just like a few weeks ago, would he have still been able to jump.

Was that sudden sensitivity to the cold he was feeling a product of his psyche or did his body just suddenly get weaker due to his long stint indoors?

To think I used to actually win these events. With the disbelief that came with that passing thought, Levi suddenly remembered why he had hesitated to join them in the first place. Everything from the atmosphere, to the warm up jumps found a way to hurt him. The few whispers he could hear from his place on the bleachers about the Ackerman kid, who had achieved a college record less than a year ago suddenly sidelined for life, were reminding him why exactly he had cooped himself up in the first place.

At first, he had attributed a huge chunk of that to the healing process, the writing process and the general lack of necessity to go out. At that moment, he was watching athletes do the jumps he knew how to perfectly execute yet was sure he would never be capable of doing again. At the same time, he was listening to whispers that could have been very much about him with the smatters of conversations on knee injuries and wasted talent.

He had looked towards Hange for comfort, an almost instinctive movement. Ironically, that movement had him rubbing more salt on his already reopened wounds. He had ended up watching Hange fall so easily to a state of a daydream and Levi did not need to look back at the oval to know why. She was watching the athletes go through the motions of the jumps.

He recognized that same look to be the one she had given Elijah and those athletes on her instagram feed. He would have given a lot to be able to go back to the Levi of a few weeks ago, the Levi who had been the subject of her hyper fixations. The inevitability of time had him hating himself a little more.

Levi cleared his throat in an attempt to swallow the lump that had settled there and willed himself to look back at the field. The temptation to space out was strong.

He had decided on watching the high jump event for a reason though and he was determined to make it worth it.

                               A Tale of Two Slaves

"Mike and Nanaba?” Levi repeated. The names flowed out of his mouth so smoothly so easily as if he had said those names many times before. Of course, he knew them. They were the subject of Hange’s case study years ago, the one he had read in preparation for meeting Hange.

“Mike Zacharius and Nanaba Briete,” Hange repeated. “Two friends from high school. They’re both participating in the high jump event so I thought of watching."

Mike and Nanaba. As Levi soon found out though the names weren’t cold to his tongue. They didn’t feel as stiff or professional despite their clear origins from an academic paper. It was almost second nature for Levi to attach faces to both of their names.

And that had been a breakthrough at that moment. For the past few days, he had been struggling to dream something different. Ever since Hange had given him a dream catcher, the dreams with Erwin and Hange had surprisingly been clearer and those scenes he had pictured had so easily flown from mind to paper, particularly his dreams to see the outside wall, his drive for atonement, his heroic sacrifice. It had also made him familiar with more subtle things like the long hours he had spent in the office, the amount of time he had spent joined to Erwin’s hip as his right hand man, and the trust he had put on him all the way until the end of his life.

He had squeezed what he had taken out of every memory and every dream and suddenly one day, he woke up to find himself completely intimate with that dream Erwin. Yet the story wasn’t complete, he just had to find inspiration elsewhere.

In an attempt to support him, Hange had been doing her part too to invite him out when she could.

She had suggested movies, shopping or dinner out. Levi could see behind it though and knew Hange would have preferred hiking, park hopping or working out. Not wanting to settle for bland ideas, they probably would have both slogged through, Levi declined all of them despite Hange’s insistence.

Ironically, her mention of plans to watch his college track and field event of all things had been an exception. "I'll come with you," Levi said without thinking.

Hange frowned in concern. “You sure?”

“Why? You don’t want me to come?”

Hange shook her head. “It’s not that…. I’m just surprised that you seemed a little too eager. I talk watching something like that might be torture for you.”

“I haven’t gone out in so long. I’m fine with anything at this rate.”

“We could start with a trip to the mall? Or we could go out for dinner?” Hange lightly suggested.

“I wanna get to know your friends too,” Levi said.

Hange raised one eyebrow at him as she eyed him a little too suspiciously. “You never seemed like the type to actually enjoy meeting new people.”

Levi avoided her gaze. If it were any other friends, he probably wouldn’t have cared enough to leave the comforts of Hange’s apartment. In fact, meeting his classmates and having face-to-face classes were a burden he was happy to avoid. Those names which Hange had mentioned, the faces that suddenly clicked in his brain, which were further confirmed by a quick google search had him all the more invested. “Nanaba and Mike seem like interesting people,” Levi finally admitted.

Her reaction was unexpected to say the least. Levi found himself practically jumping out of his seat in shock at the explosion of laughter that came out of your mouth. “Why the hell are you laughing?”

Eventually, her laughter did die down but Levi wasn’t counting the seconds until it did. He had been too busy enjoying the way her eyes crinkled and her nose wrinkled as she smiled. “Wait ‘til Nanaba and Mike hear this. The quiet antisocial guy who beat them out of first place every single fucking time is actually interested in getting to know them

“Wait. I went against them?”

“Aaaaand you don’t even remember.” Hange flailed her hands up exaggeratedly. “I should have known.” She shook her head. Her voice still had the remnants of the loud laughter of a while ago and she didn’t look like she would be getting rid of that playful demeanor anytime soon.

“And now you’re just making fun of me.

Hange wiped a tear from the side of her eye. “I’m sorry. I probably look so weird right now. I know I shouldn’t be acting like this.” As she put her hand down, she looked back up at him, her smile visibly wider than it was a second ago. “It just never dawned on me till now how weird it just feels. If I told my past self I’d be sharing an apartment with jumper extraordinaire Levi Ackerman, past Hange would have tried to slap some sense into me.”

Jumper extraordinaire Levi Ackerman. Somehow, Levi was recalling the way she had held his hands and stared at him, the first time he had laid eyes on her. I heard you’re the best one in the team… I’d love to see you in action. The glimmer in eyes and the excited tone in her voice that fluctuated between highs and lows with every syllable, it was the same as it had been then when she first called out to him.

Hange took a deep breath. “The tournaments were the only times Nanabe and Mike would visit this part of town so they’d invite me to watch every year…”

“And you watched it every year…” Levi didn’t need to confirm anything. It was all in her eyes.

As if she knew she had given it all away through her eyes, Hange quickly looked away. She had done nothing though to hide the pink in her cheeks. She probably couldn’t have done anything to hide it anyway. “When the super rookie Levi Ackerman scored an almost record breaking upset win…” Hange recounted so mechanically as if she were reading a headline. “I was in the crowd. And I never stopped following him since.”

And I never stopped following him since. The moment Hange said it, she dropped her shoulders to the side, so quickly and so eagerly, Levi wondered what kind of baggage she had been holding for her to look so free as she said those last words. His mind shifted elsewhere before he could ponder it any longer.

It was a long shot but Levi still found himself looking back, scrambling to recall his first every competition through lasting sensations from the cold breeze, the blinding lights and the cacophony of cheers mixed with announcers’ commentaries.

As if by some miracle, he remembered it. He remembered it as he mentally prepared for the most crucial jump. The bar was a good two meters up in the air. His legs were aching, his heartbeat was getting wilder. Before he jumped, he had glanced at the bleachers as the murmurs and cheers got stronger and consequently more difficult to ignore. On the bleachers, more specifically on the fifth row from the front, sat Hange. Her hair still as brown and untamed as always, her eyes held the same wonder it always had. And maybe a little surprise? That had been his first tournament after all.

He had only given her a passing glance then. Within a split second, she had blended with the scenery as he ran towards the bar. The jump that came quickly after was strong and exhilarating.

And as Levi landed on the cushion on the other side of the bar, welcoming explosions of gasps and wild cheers as he did, he couldn’t help but reflect on it.

Rookie Ackerman bags gold in the Regional Cup with record breaking height.

That first tournament jump had been life changing, inspiring. Possibly it was the jump that had paved the way to the years of victory that followed.

No sane athlete would have memorized the faces in the crowd. For him though, it felt criminal that he had only noticed it then as she admitted it to him herself.

She had been a part of that experience too.

                            A Tale of Two Slaves

Eventually, Levi did get tired of torturing himself. He knew the way to the barely used locker rooms in the building next to the oval and he seeked solace there. Somehow, he found it worth it to make a slight scene as he struggled to keep his balance and he maneuvered his crutches down the bleachers.

When he got to the empty locker room, with only the dark ceiling above him and silence, that made even the dripping of water deafening, he was able to forget the embarrassing and frustrating journey there. And within a few more minutes, he did forget the onslaught of emotion that had culminated into a wave of incomprehensible emotions, manifesting as demons in his head.

With a lack of stimuli to remind him of his reality, he was once again numb. And numbness tended to lead to dreaming. The old locker room was no place to fall asleep though and Levi found himself trying to focus on whatever faint stimuli could reach him as to stay rooted in his reality.

Faint cheers made their way into the dark room. Levi had watched more than enough jumps to know the cheers flowed with the movements, always at their loudest when the athlete is at their highest. Oddly enough, he had managed to drown out the cheers more easily when he was in the middle of them.

Although they were faint, they were still much louder and more rattling than Levi had ever experienced them to be. And the cheers did rattle him to the bone. His body shook every time the cheers reached their crescendo and he wondered if Hange was watching too. Was she screaming? He could imagine her cheers so easily and he found himself trying to pick it out among what could have been hundreds of other voices.

Her voice was unique, nostalgic, memorable. It should have been easy. But the cheers were too faint. Even in the silence, he found it difficult to split them into individual voices, let alone isolate one out of hundreds. He leaned back on the cold wall, slipped onto the floor and closed his eyes.

“Levi?”

Levi had assumed it to have been a dream at first. The voice he had been raring to pick out among the crowd was right next to him. He willed himself not to open his eyes for fear that the voice might just disappear.

That small voice had opened up to sounds of steps then the brush of cloth on tiles. He felt a warm hand behind him, pulling him gently away from the wall and the warmth of something around him. Levi let out a cough, only then, when the cold was replace by warmth, did he realize how chilly the room actually was.

“You can really sleep anywhere huh?" Her voice had been too near, right next to his ear. Her breath tickled his ear and brushed past his neck. Even before he realized it, he had opened his eyes, Levi was already returning the subtle smile Hange had given him.

“What were you dreaming about?” It had become routine for Hange to ask that question. Levi couldn’t blame her. When he was at his worst, sometimes that was the only thing he was willing to talk about.

“Nothing. I wasn’t sleeping. I was just thinking,” Levi answered. “How are the results?”

Hange shrugged. “You saw it yourself. Elijah grabbed gold in the vertical jump. Mike silver…” She paused for a second.

“So none of the other jumpers after them got higher scores?”

“They still didn’t beat your record from last season.”

“I don’t need that reassurance,” Levi said. “This would have been my last season anyway. I’m gonna graduate, find a job, forget this sport then find out some other kid beat my record in a few years.”

“Why did you leave after Elijah cleared the 2.3 meter bar then?” Hange didn’t at all sound like she had wanted to provoke him. Levi was certain all she had wanted were answers.

“Why were you staring at Elijah like that when he jumped?” As he thought back to the final straw that had made him stand up and brave the stairs and the whispers from the crowd just so he could leave the field mid tournament, he realized exactly why. Hange hadn’t even noticed the way her eyes lit up at him. Somehow, that was enough to have Levi shaking as he saw the confusion in her eyes.

“Staring like what?”

“Your mouth was wide open and your eyes were stuck on him.”

“I just got a little excited I guess. When I see jumps that high, sometimes I feel like I’m flying myself,” Hange said. “Or I dunno, I’ve never flown before but it’s just so easy to get lost in it sometimes.”

“Did you feel that same way? When I jumped?” Used to jump. Regret weighed on him. As the seconds ticked as he waited for her answer, that regret gradually took over and pushed at his chest, making it more difficult to breath. It had been that one movement after all, that impulsive and reckless decision that had him there in that dark unused locker room instead of outside in the tournament.

It was his last season anyway. He had consoled himself so many times before. But it wasn’t the season and the career-ending injury that had him heavy hearted at that moment. Impending retirement in sports loomed for most college athletes, especially in their senior year. Levi had prepared himself for it already.

At first, it had been the loss of that one unique sensation, the blue sky above him, and the his body detached from the earth for that split second, the loss of that memorable and unique experience of having both air and gravity as his enemy as he flew through the air with the wind blowing through his face as if executing their own plans to stop him. When the dreams returned and when he had started to write them out, eventually the weight in his chest lightened, replaced by another one.

As he spent more time observing Hange and talking to her in between her thesis writing and his own writing, he noticed it fester slowly. Only when his chest lightened, set free from that other weight, did it start to make itself known.

Hange never stopped watching jumps, turns, tumbles, runs and spins. Sometimes, she would turn on the tv in the living room to some athletic meet. Sometimes, she’d just be scrolling through her timeline, liking whatever inhumane stunts an athlete was showing her at that moment. She had those same raised eyebrows, that same gaping mouth, those same dilated pupils and that same glimmer in the eyes that he wished was just the glare of the screen.

And I never stopped following him since. Had she looked at him with that same expression? That same exact expression she had given Elijah? Would there ever be away to look back at those moments, zoom into her and look for everything from the raised eyebrows, gaping mouth, dilated pupils and that glimmer in her eyes?

Did you look at me that same way? That was all he had wanted to ask. Hange wouldn’t have known though.

“Of course I did.” Hange answered. Levi could only wish it were true. Without seeing that same expression, he would never know.

“But I’ll never jump like that again. So I don’t think you’ll get that from me anymore.”

I can get it elsewhere. Levi had prepared his heart for that reply. He was at least ready enough not to lash out.

“Because you offer other things,” Hange said. “These stories about Captain Levi and Hange Zoe… Commander Erwin Smith? When we’re up late at night and you start talking about those contraptions that get us flying through the air like birds? I don’t know if it’s the way you describe it or if it’s the passion in your eyes but… it’s like I could have been flying too.”

“You were flying.” And Levi held on to the image so tightly, that the words flowed too naturally out of his mouth. If he hadn’t been staring at the blank ceiling above him, recalling easily how she had tumbled and turned so freely in the air, he probably would have been conscious about how much of a madman he had sounded like.

Hange didn’t seem to mind though. “Even if just in my own dreams, it would be nice.”

The dim room only made the transition from consciousness to unconsciousness a little easier. The coat over his shoulders and the warmth that it kept close to him didn’t help keep him awake either. His dim surroundings blurred into nothingness, the last two sensations he made out was the arm around his shoulder and the faint discomfort as he dropped his head onto what could have been a bony shoulder.

You were flying.

It was as if his dreams had heard the conversation of a while ago. Squad Leader Zoe, Commander Hange Zoe. Dreams of her came in snapshots, in crumbs that indulged all his five senses. The whizzing of cables, the explosion of gas, familiar yet distant screams of excitement, week old sweat.

Her greasy hair on his hands. Then Levi found himself on horseback, his and Hange’s faces were a little too close for comfort. It didn’t take much to remember why though.

She had said something about wanting to meet an abnormal titan and he was in the mood for jokes.

                                A Tale of Two Slaves

“Of all the years and tournaments you could have ditched, it had to be the tournament with my first ever golden medal performance.”

“Nanaba, I’ll make it up to you promise…”

“To think you’re the one who roped me into this sport in the first place…”

They had the whole taxi ride to start an argument. Levi was grateful at least the conversation only reached that topic when they were already in the elevator on the way to Hange’s apartment. Hange had prepared some hard drinks, some soft drinks, some chasers and a lot of water. He was sure that the argument with devolve into something a little less coherent and might actually fizzle out within an hour or so with the right cocktail mix.

He had gone through that same bout of adventure with his own teammates after all. Nanaba continued to talk her ear off while Mike and Hange cleared out the dining table. Levi sat on one of the chairs, making himself useful by opening up the bottles handed to him by Moblit.

“I’m gonna need something hard first. Imagining being awarded that gold medal then looking in the crowd for the person who inspired me to try high jumping in the first place.” Nanaba sat to Levi’s left pouring what could be a nauseating amount of gin into the cup and emptied it within seconds. “And lo and behold, it looks like you were hiding out with wonderboy here in one of the old locker rooms.” She turned to Levi. “So… What were you guys doing there?”

Oddly enough, Levi didn’t understand the question at first glance. It could have been interpreted as an innocent question. When he wasn’t taking into account the cat-like grin, the raised eyebrows and the wide-eyed gaze.

It was Moblit who confirmed her intention. He turned to Hange. “There isn’t anything between you and Levi though right?”

“No one needs to be in a relationship to do anything.” Mike added, begrudgingly wise words from the most quiet one in the room.

“Nothing really…” Hange sat next to Nanaba and poured her own glass of gin, mixing it with some soft drinks. “I just kept him company. And he fell asleep next to me.”

Nanaba turned to Levi, her cheeks much redder than they were a second ago. “You sure?” She cupped her hands over her mouth and whispered in a still very audible volume. “Blink twice if you need help.”

“I don’t remember much, I fell asleep.”

Everyone in the room jumped as Nanaba abruptly slammed her hand on the table. “And you just let your biggest fangirl get away with doing whatever she wanted with you huh?”

“Biggest… fangirl?” Levi asked.

Nanaba turned to Hange. “Don’t you have a folder of pictures of him on your phone?” She dove under the table. From where Levi sat he could only hear the frazzled protests of Hange.

“The pictures aren’t on my phone anymore!” Hange screamed.

“What pictures?” Levi asked, trying his best to ignore the slams and the sounds of struggle from below.

“We did go to all of your competitions.” Mike admitted. “They went for personal reasons… I went for my own research.”

Levi noted that Mike and Elijah tended to alternate second and third place between the both of them. According to Hange that is. He never looked beyond his own experiences and his own injury had made him all the more hesitant to research high jumping stats.

“That sounds reasonable.” Levi managed to say. Small talk had never been his forte. Especially when his conversation partner wasn’t leaving much opening to continue.

For a while they were both silent. “It’s a shame. You made the competition interesting. If this didn’t happen, you could have pushed the sport to new levels.”

“Accidents happen. Someone else will show up and do it,” Levi kept his voice toneless as if he were just rattling off a list of inevitable events. That probably was going to happen anyway. His current inebriated state just convinced him that it wasn’t worth pondering at that moment.

“Moblit! Keep my phone and Nanaba, just go the fuck to sleep already.” Hange’s tone and her face then that managed to be both cold and furious at the same time was terrifying. Maybe, because it was the first time he had ever seen her so angry.

“You’re one of my closest friends Hange…. Be happy…” Nanaba slurred.

Happy. Hange always seemed happy, barring that one sleepless night he did see her cry. At that moment though, Levi instinctively looked towards her, his brain somehow expecting to see a smile on her face.

Of course, with what happened just a while ago she wasn’t smiling. She pressed her phone onto Moblit’s hand and whispered something to him. She returned back and sat next to Levi, taking Nanaba’s seat of a while ago. “Well, I had pictures to be honest but just for a few months I guess? I mean I really liked your jumps and I wanted to keep them...”

“No. It’s nice to know I had a secret admirer.” No actually, Levi probably would have found it odd if it were anyone else. He was doing the equivalent of writing fanfiction about her and somehow, keeping a secret folder of photos of him seemed mild. Although she had mentioned deleting it, Levi found himself clinging to the hope that she might still have kept a few.

“Hange, Let me make it up to you,” A voice and a pair of arms came up from behind Hange and wrapped around both of their shoulders. Levi could smell the strong alcohol in them.

“Nanaba, I think you should go to sleep now…” Moblit said. He stood up and started to prepare one of the mattresses Hange had laid out on the side of the room.

“Make it up to me by going to sleep…” Hange mumbled visibly uncomfortable.

Nanaba ignored her. “Levi, could I ask you one favor?”

“What is it?” Levi asked, keeping his eyes fixed on the still half fall glass of tequila in front of him. He had only been taking only small and cautious sips after all.

“Could you kiss Hange?” Nanaba asked “At least, just a peck on the cheek?”

“Kiss?”

“Nanaba! Go. to sleep.”

Levi could hear the rattle of her chair and from his peripherals he could see Hange moving to stand up but before he could have even processed anything else, he felt a hand on his head, a slight push.

And within a split second, he felt wet lips, he tasted alcohol, he saw scenes and he heard voices.

Within another split second they were all gone.

Hange had gone red, he could see it in her cheekbones. She had her hand cupped to her mouth, her eyes wide with what could have been shock or embarrassment. As Levi felt the blood run through his cheeks and his incapacity to do anything but stare, he started to wonder what he had looked like.

“Weren’t you wondering how his lips tasted? During that one tournament?”

“That was a joke…” Hange said. She swallowed a lump on her throat and as she narrowed her eyes, Levi could see the beginnings of what could have been tears. Was it really a joke?

“Nanaba. Let’s get you to bed.” Mike appeared from behind Nanaba and guided her back to the mattress Moblit had prepared. He started whispering to Nanaba so slowly and gently, Levi almost admired him for his patience.

That exchange between Nanaba and Mike had only lasted a second. By the time Levi did look beside him, Hange was already gone and he could hear the door slam behind him.

Levi took a quick glance at both Moblit and Mike who were still trying to subdue an overly excited Nanaba before he stood up. Not bothering to even grab his crutches from the other side of the wall, he hobbled the few meter distance toward the door of her room.

“Hange?” Levi opened the door just wide enough to see it. She hadn’t locked the door at least.

“I still have the pictures on my phone.” She sounded apologetic. She sat at the foot of her bed, her face towards the ground. Levi could tell by the crack on her voice that she was in no mood to look up.

“The pictures of me?”

“I can delete them if you want. I know it’s creepy. I shouldn’t have taken so many during tournaments.”

“And you wanted to kiss me?”

Hange fell limply on the bed and looked up at the blank ceiling. She had looked like she was avoiding his gaze. “It was a weird passing thought. I mean, I know a lot of girls have those types of things but I guess it really is creepy when the person isn’t as big of a celebrity as boy groups or actors. But I’ve wanted to be an athlete since before I could remember. I wanted to jump, to see how it feels like flying through the air. And when I saw you jump, I swear you could have had wings on your back with how well you were able to control yourself up there. You made me feel like I could fly too and I guess I got a little obsessed and ended up thinking a lot of creepy shit. I know it’s weird and I sound like a stalker…”

“No it’s not. I still have the stories about you. I’m just as weird,” Levi looked towards the wall, a gesture of respect for Hange who looked like she was in no mood to look at him.

“But, you only started writing them after we met.”

“But the stories are so detailed, it’s embarrassing,” Levi said. “if I made you feel so strongly about this, you felt obsessed enough to sneak pictures. Just remember, you made me feel things too. And these things I felt, ended up making me write. And I’ve never written in my life.”

“How did I make you feel?”

“Like I could fly too.” His dreams could attest to the fact that he wasn’t lying. Levi chose that moment to look at her and their eyes locked even before he consciously tried to follow her gaze. She had lain on the bed, looking more relaxed than a second ago.

Hange scooched over. Levi noticed then with the slight movement that his right knee was starting to ache, having taken the load of all his body weight as he hobbled.

Her scooching over could have been a subtle movement more than anything but with his aching legs, Levi decided the risk was probably worth it. He approached the bed on the side Hange had opened up. “I thought of stuff I wanted to write... Nanaba and Mike were in those dreams too. For a time we would go out for drinks after a long day of training. Meat was hard to come by but sometimes, we would have the budget to blow on a plate of meat and we’d share it. Erwin would be there too. And sometimes, they would joke that we bickered like a married couple.”

“You really built your whole world huh? What inspired you to think that up this time? The alcohol? Meeting Mike and Nanaba? Having our heads bashed together?

The kiss? The visions of the split second chose to remind Levi of their existence at that particular moment. “The kiss?” The words rolled off his tongue so easily and so fluidly.

“You don’t have to call it a kiss if you don’t want to.” We didn’t decide to do it. So technically it isn’t right?”

Levi had wanted to argue. Hange’s denial of that kiss only made his memories clearer and the emotions tied to them much stronger.

That peck had been satisfying, euphoric. It was a cathartic release of pent up emotions. Yet at the same time it had only lasted a split second. In that silent room, on the bed next to Hange, he had enough of a breather to reflect and maybe articulate that particular gesture. His feelings were strong enough to at least convince him to keep it as is. “It’s a kiss,” he said.

The silence stretched for what could have been eternity. “It’s a kiss then,” Hange said. “Did it make you feel anything?”

“I liked it.” Levi kept it to those three words. If he gave his mouth and his emotions free reign, he might just say something he would regret.

“Did you see anything? Did it inspire you to write something else about Captain Levi and Commander Zoe?” It was just like Hange to pull those words out of his mouth anyway.

“If they weren’t constantly fighting for their lives, they might have ended up kissing.”

“And you’re not going to write a kissing scene?”

“They didn’t kiss.” Of course, they wouldn’t kiss during the war. They were fellow soldiers, subordinate and superior, it wouldn’t have been professional in the battlefield.

“Maybe after their relationship develops then.”

“It won’t develop.” The words came out automatically.

“Why not? What about after the war?” Hange suggested. Words like why always bring up more questions than answers and Levi found himself racking his brain for it.

The dreams and the memories or as Hange liked to call it, bouts of inspiration, came in images and scenes and sometimes pieces of information. From what he could tell, Hange and Levi had a strong bond and it would have only been natural that they had stayed close long after the war ended.

And a kiss probably wouldn’t have been too far off. But why didn’t they kiss? Why didn’t their relationship develop? Levi asked himself, as his mind caught up to the words he said.

Maybe because the war hadn't ended yet. But after that there should be potential to develop.

With time, Levi had started to realize a pattern to the dreams though. The answers to the questions came gradually. They came in meetings, conversations and dreams. If he waited patiently, if he just opened up, those questions would be answered right?

Before Levi even noticed it, he had settled on the bed next to her and had fallen asleep to those questions. His brain chose those moments in between the sleeping and waking world to go through the voices and visions that went through him in that split second kiss.

One day in the barracks, he had overheard three of his squad members talking.

“You know I’ve been working with the commander closely right?”

“Yeah?”

“After the meetings, Levi always stays in the room with her and every time I see them together. I can’t help but think, there might be something between them.”

“Maybe you’re just overanalyzing it. You do analyze a lot

“Hey, he was right about the titan shifters and their locations back in Shiganshina."

“We’re talking about romance here, not military intelligence. Besides, can you even imagine the captain and commander kissing?”

“Just because you can’t get a girl with your horse face.”

[storiesforallfandoms]

proud ~ cillian murphy

word count: 2015

request?: yes!

@shady80smusicsingercolor​ “The reader was always tried to get them proud,but nothing,one day the reader remembers their parents how they were never supportive or proud,the reader cried, cillian was passing by their dressing room,he stop cuz he heard the faithful tears,he came in,he ask what's wrong,and the reader explain how their parents never were proud of them but their siblings yeah,and ask him"what's wrong with me"and cillian reassures the reader nothing wrong with them but with their parents yeah,he told the reader he was Damm proud of them”

description: when you’re reminded of your rough childhood, your co-star is there to lift you up when you’re feeling down

pairing: cillian murphy x female!reader

warnings: swearing, angst

masterlist

You were in the middle of taking a picture of yourself in your costume when your phone buzzed. A notification at the top of the screen read that you had you were tagged in a post on Facebook, by your mum.

You cringed, immediately knowing what it would be.

A picture of your mum, dad, and sister sat around a table at a restaurant popped up on your screen. The caption for it read, “A special dinner for our beautiful daughter, who just scored another win on a case!” As per usual, she had tagged your dad, your sister, and you. Not because they wished you were there, but to remind you of your sister’s accomplishments and their pride in them.

Your parents made it very clear at a young age that your sister was the favourite child. They had a vision for the future of their kids, one that included a high paying job and eventually a family, and your sister was the one to follow this vision, in their eyes anyways.

Your sister was a straight A student all throughout her school years, and was accepted into law school with a full scholarship right out of high school. You, on the other hand, found yourself falling in love with acting. You were in drama club all through school and often starred in the school plays and musicals. When you graduated high school you were accepted into one of the biggest art schools, and of course you went.

Your parents were less than enthusiastic about your path, even after your acting career took off. They viewed acting as not being  a “real job” and often ridiculed you, comparing you to your sister or reminding you of your sister’s accomplishments at every opportunity.

You took a deep breath to calm yourself. You had to remind yourself that just because your parents weren’t proud of you didn’t mean you should be so hard on yourself. You had a successful career, you were happy as an actress. You weren’t going to let them bring you down.

You went to the family group chat to send a congratulatory message to your sister, one that your parents would see and realize they weren’t going to get to you this time.

“Congrats on your case win sis!”

Your sister responded a moment later, “Thanks sis! you're fantastic on Peaky Blinders! I can’t wait until the next season!”

The text gave you a brief moment of happiness. You and your sister never had bad blood. You both understood that you took your own paths and there was no reason to give in to your parents patronizing.

The happiness faded when another message came, this time from your mum, “Did your sister tell you she was seeing someone? It’s pretty serious, we might have our first son in law soon.”

You tossed your phone to the floor and buried your head in your hands. Of course they were going to start taking jabs at your love life now. Now that your sister had a serious boyfriend they had something else to belittle you about.

You were trying to hold back your tear when a knock came at your dressing room door. You sighed and swallowed the lump in your throat. “Come in!”

Your co-star, Cillian, opened the door. You looked at him through your vanity mirror. “We’re about to start filming soon, are you ready?”

You nodded. “Yeah, just give me a minute and I’ll be out.”

“Are you okay?”

Being asked if you were okay when you were on the verge of tears was always the worst question. You had to look down so Cillian didn’t see the tears forming in your eyes.

“I’m fine,” you replied. “Tell everyone I’ll be out soon.”

Cillian crossed the room to sit next to you. You kept looking down at the vanity’s desk.

“For an actress, you’re not the best at acting like you’re okay,” he teased, causing you to laugh. “What’s wrong? And don’t say it’s nothing because you know I’ll force you to tell me.”

You knew there was no use in lying. Cillian knew you better than most people, he’d know you weren’t telling the truth.

You picked up your phone and passed it to Cillian, allowing him to read the most recent messages. His eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. “I don’t get it, what does her love life have to do with either of your jobs? And why would your mum make a comment about him being a future son in law? Your sister even told her that she’s only been seeing the guy for six months.”

“Exactly!” you snapped. “It has nothing to do with the conversation, my mum just wants to tell me she has a new reason to ridicule me. I don’t have a real job, I haven’t had a serious relationship, I’m nowhere near having a kid or being married. But my sister, oh she’s the star child - a lawyer, has a boyfriend now, will probably give my parents their first grandchild.”

You buried your head in your hands again, finally allowing the tears to start flowing freely. You knew the makeup artist was going to be pissed, but you could care less at that moment. You couldn’t leave this frustration to build up while you were filming, it would just guarantee that you'd fuck up the scene and feel even worse.

Cillian took you into his arms, resting his head against yours as he ran a hand soothingly over your body.

“It’s alright,” he said. “It’s alright, let it all out.”

You felt comfortable in his arms, like it was the best place to be, and honestly, it was. Cillian was your closest friend on set of Peaky Blinders, probably your closest friend all together. There were many a times when he would hold you like this, whether it was a friendly hug, a scene on set, an idle gesture when the two of you were hanging out together. Being in Cillian’s arms was so soothing, it was exactly what you needed.

You finally pulled away and looked at yourself in the mirror. Luckily enough, since you were filming a show that was taking place in the early 1900s you didn’t have to wear too much makeup, mainly mascara and enough foundation that you didn’t look shiny on screen. The makeup artist on set had given you waterproof mascara, which again was lucky for you, but your foundation, however, was ruined from water streaks running down your cheeks.

You grabbed a makeup wipe from your vanity and began wiping the foundation from your face. You had foundation in your dressing room for moments like this, so that you could fix your makeup before scenes so no one would realize you were so upset.

“I get that they may not have viewed acting as a possible job back when I was in high school,” you said as you fixed your makeup, “but I’ve made an actual career from it. I’ve been in countless shows and movies, I’ve been nominated for awards and even won countless ones, and they can’t accept that. They can’t be proud of me for making a name for myself in my own way. They’ve never been proud of me. What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing!” Cillian told you. “Nothing is wrong with you. You’re an absolutely amazing person, and you’re so talented and amazing. Just because you chose a different path from your sister and because you’re not following in their footsteps or the path that your parents wanted you to take doesn’t mean that there’s something wrong with you. There’s something wrong with your parents, they’re the assholes here.”

You sighed and shook your head, putting the foundation away. “This thing with my sister having a boyfriend is what’s really gonna start getting to me, I already know that. Being an actress I don't really have the time for a relationship, and I haven’t found a genuine guy that I want to be with because so many Hollywood guys are fake assholes who want to date you for their own professional gain. By the time I find someone to be with, my sister will probably be engaged with a child along the way and my parents will never let me live that down.”

As you spoke, Cillian was listening intently, until you got to the end of your rant. That’s when he cupped your face in his hands and pulled you towards him, pressing his lips to you. The gesture shocked you at first and you almost jerked your head away, but, just like being in his arms, kissing Cillian just felt so right. You relaxed into the kiss, cupping his face as well to hold him close.

He pulled away after a brief moment, smiling at you as he did so. “Am I one of those asshole famous people do you think?”

You giggled. “Oh God no, you’re the nicest person I’ve ever met.”

“Well then, this nice person thinks you’re the most amazing person he has ever met, and that your parents couldn’t be more wrong in the way that they treat you. And this nice person wants to take you out on a date when we’re finished with filming today.”

You smiled brightly. “I would love to go out after filming today. But to do that, we should get to filming.”

Realization passed Cillian’s face. “Shit, you’re right. Let’s go.”

“I’ll be there in a minute,” you said as Cillian stood. “You go and tell them I’m sorry I’m late but it’s family issues.”

Cillian nodded, leaning down to kiss you once more, before leaving the room.

You took your phone in your hand and checked the family chat to see that the last message was from your sister, explaining to you that her and her boyfriend hadn’t even been together for long and chastising your mother for her message. You took a deep breath and began to type out one final text message.

“I’m really happy for your relationship, sis, and I’d love to meet him, but this is my final message in this groupchat. I’ll be leaving the chat and taking mom and dad off of Facebook. I also probably won’t even tell you guys when I’m visiting home since you’ve made it clear that you don’t even want to see me. I know that I haven’t conformed to your beliefs of “success”, but I love where I’ve gone in life and I’m happy with my career. I’ve been in countless TV shows and movies and I’ve won awards for those things. I love my job, and I wouldn’t change that for the world. As for my love life, if either of you ever cared enough to check in on me instead of flaunting (Y/S/N)’s accomplishments in my face you’d know that I too am seeing someone. Too bad you’ve officially burned all bridges and won’t be meeting him now, but what can you do? Feel free to call if you ever decide to be proud of your youngest daughter for where she is in life and not just for your oldest because she followed the life that you tried to force upon us (I love you sis, don’t take this as an insult)”

After hitting send, you left the chat and promptly blocked both of your parents on Facebook. You took a deep breath and sighed heavily. It felt like a weight had been taken off of your shoulders then.

You inspected your makeup in the mirror to make sure it looked fine before getting up and finally walking to set. The rest of your co-stars were gathered, waiting, when you finally arrived.

“Sorry I’m late,” you told them. “Family stuff. I’m ready to go if you guys are.”

Everyone started getting in place. As the camera was being set up, Cillian looked at you with a little concern on his face. “Everything alright?”

You smiled at him, suddenly feeling more confident than you ever had. “I feel great. Let’s kill this scene.”