#the client was like 'yeah i want her to do it' and then this coordinator was like nah she can't and i was like???? yes i can | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

phyrestartr · 7 months ago

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PR Stunt (Only, Right?) | Sukuna/M!Reader

W/C: 6.9K (oh god lol) #NSFW, fingering, implied fucking, bottom!reader, top!sukuna, angst, fluff, smut, happy ending, Sukuna owns a body shop, reader is an actor, kinda meet cute, ABO dynamics, mpreg, yes there are always babies involved because i love dad sukuna, surprise baby, sukuna is a dickhead (what else is new), Gojo is an actor, Getou is a manager/agent, Toji is a stunt coordinator, Jin is a teacher tags: @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @flowersatwork @watyousayin

“Did you sleep with (L. Name) (F. Name)?”

The question caught Sukuna off guard; normally, Uraume didn't inquire into his personal life in regards to who he had and hadn't slept with. They were a friend, yes, but moreover they were the bookkeeper and helped with securing clients and arranging meetings–celebrities and their managers were fucks that Sukuna didn't like negotiating with. Best to leave the yapping to someone with a cooler head.

“Where the hell did that come from?” Sukuna asked as he rolled out from under the newest commissioned vehicle.

Uraume walked to him, iPad in hand, and turned it to him, stone cold.

Sukuna sat up straighter and squinted at the screen, annoyed. You’d probably just made up some salacious rumour and spread it throughout your friend circles; or worse, you wanted revenge on him for something he probably definitely did. In that case, Sukuna could somewhat understand. But still–

(Name) putting on weight? What’s happening to the former bombshell babe of Japan?!

Pregnant with a baby boy?! The secret's out!

(Name) returns to the stage after giving birth to a baby boy–but who is the father?

(Name) driving a Ryoumen Sukuna rescue vehicle?! Could he be the deadbeat dad we've been looking for?

Sukuna sucked his teeth after skimming over the article titles presented to him.

“...No proof.”

“Ah. Then please explain this,” Uraume requested, still polite as ever, as they flicked to an additional few images the scumbag paparazzi had caught of you.

One was the car mentioned. Sukuna remembered it like it was yesterday–the joy of restoring a Porsche 911 back into its former glory was unmatched. You happily paid for all the parts and too often swung by to see the progress being made on the old thing. Obviously, Sukuna was more than happy to oblige.

The next was of you holding a little nugget of a baby against your chest as you walked down a street in Shibuya. Nothing too damning, nothing too inspirational.

But the last one–

“The fuck?” Sukuna mumbled as he snatched the iPad from Uraume’s hands and zoomed in on the now-toddler sitting with you in that damn Porsche, grinning brightly beside his mum while you ruffled his hair. His very, very pink hair.

Sukuna took a breath while he thought. He didn't have to think too hard, though, not when he still dreamed about you and the short-lived fling between the two of you.

“A Porsche 911, huh?” Sukuna grinned as he looked over the rusted beater of a car. He could still see scraps of its former glory, of the beautiful thing she used to be. Heaven knows she would've become an irreparable hunk of junk if you hadn't bought it from a scrapyard.

“Yep.” You beamed. “So you think you can make her pretty again?”

“You kidding? I'd pay you to let me fix this thing, baby.” Sukuna caught sight of your security stepping forward, but you waved them off without a second thought.

Sukuna smirked. “But it’s not gonna be cheap.”

You nodded. “Well, do what you have to. I'll pay whatever you need, handsome.”

“Yeah?” Sukuna asked, looking your neatly-manicured appearance up and down; you were dressed like you were meeting someone of great importance (and you were, obviously), with your hair groomed perfectly, outfit fit for a premiere, skin flawless.

“Mhm. And I tip well.” you looked him up and down in kind, grinning as you bit at the nub of your sunglasses.

“Done.”

Every time you came to check on his progress, genuine excitement flooding in your motormouthed words, you'd go home with him and fuck him silly.

And now, you were the momma to his baby. Allegedly.

“I–so what the fuck does this have to do with anything?” Sukuna ran a frustrated hand through his hair after Uraume took the tablet back. “Bitch isn't asking for anything, he's not asking me to be his public fucking baby daddy, not asking me to pay for nothing?”

“No,” Uraume conceded, “But he and his PR managers have reached out concerning this.”

The man groaned and stood. “Fucking hell. Can't stand fucking PR teams. The fuck did they want?”

“They want to make a statement about Touma's father.”

Sukuna froze.

“Touma's a good name for a boy, right?”

You asked the question so suddenly, so out of nowhere in the quiet of the afterglow. The city lights sparkled and winked at you both through the towering windows keeping you safe from the outside world. In hindsight, Sukuna would wonder if the city was excited for him. For you.

“What, for a mutt?” Sukuna drawled, puffing on a blunt while he played with your hair and drowned in the tingles left in the wake of fingers drawing circles on his bare chest.

“For a kid,” you chastised with a laugh. “I like Touma. Or Touka for a girl. Ayato's nice, too. Maybe Kazue.”

“You better not be pregnant.”

“I'm not, I'm not. I'm just getting baby fever, I guess.” You hummed and left a sweet kiss against his tan skin. “I guess being around a big, bad boy like you's got me feeling domestic.”

Sukuna laughed, dazed and happy. “You wanna ruin this pretty lil’ body for a fucking kid? Be my guest. Just don't come looking for a booty call after you've ruined yourself like that.”

“Oh, don't worry,” you cooed. “I won't.”

Man. Man.

“A statement.”

“In other words–”

“I'm not the fucking father.”

“This might be a good way to get Yorozu off your case,” Uraume suggested, and Sukuna perked up.

“Right. She fuckin’ hates kids.”

“So, if you were to have a son, and it's revealed you've been quietly trying to make things work behind the scenes with (Name), then hypothetically–”

“I'll take the runt.”

Truth is out–Ryoumen Sukuna is the father, (Name) tells fans on social media!

Sukuna hated seeing that shit. The circus celebrities had to dance through used to be funny until he somehow got swept up into it. Until he suddenly had a baby boy that looked so much like him and so much like you.

He spent too much time on your socials, scrolling through promotion posts and photos of you at red carpet events and premieres–and then he remembered you had a private account. One that you said he could follow. One that he never followed.

Sukuna rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling as he sulked in bed. Was he really about to sacrifice his pride for this? Was he seriously gonna request to follow your personal account just moments after articles dropped and tweets were sent about him being the baby daddy? Could his pride take it?

Fuck me. This shit is highschool.

He requested to follow, and not even a minute later, you approved it.

That had him interested. Did you want him to follow? Did you want him to be part of his little guy's life? Were you feeling a rush of anxiety and excitement like he was right now?

“Get over it, you fucking idiot,” he mumbled to himself before scrolling through your photos.

There was so much more here. So many photos of you pregnant, of Touma when he was so ridiculously itty bitty, of when you were recovering in the hospital, looking worn out and exhausted, but still beaming as you held your little boy.

There were photos of his first birthday and the cute…rustic cake you'd apparently made yourself. Your agent, Getou, was there, as was one of your fellow agency mates, Gojo, along with some other folks Sukuna did and didn't recognize.

Of course, his boy–your boy lit up the centre, eyes glittering with the reflection of sparklers and the warmth of a good, safe home. He was happy. The boy–his boy–your boy was happy.

Then he called you. He couldn't help it, not anymore.

Sukuna paced around his penthouse, sipping on his spiked coffee and trying to desperately control his…nerves? Alpha instincts? Excitement? Fuck, he didn't know. But he was full of whatever it was, and it drove him nuts.

“Hi!” You answered as you picked up, so full of life as usual. “Been a while. How're you? What's up?”

Sukuna felt so, so old suddenly. Why were you so awake in the morning?

“Think you can spare some of that pep in your step for me?” Sukuna asked. He smiled when he heard you laugh on the other line. “Dunno how the hell you're so awake in the morning.”

“Well, I don't party or work on cars until the crack of dawn,” you purred back, so sweet and teasing. Sukuna almost got hard. Ugh. Ugh. What the fuck was wrong with him?

“Hah? What, you sayin’ I'm irresponsible ‘n make shitty choices, babe?”

“Absolutely.”

“Tch. Omegas.”

You snickered again before cutting to the chase: “So, you're calling about my Touma?”

Sukuna swallowed. “Yeah. Gotta say I'm pretty fucking confused.”

“Yeah, I get it.” He heard you shift in bed, triggering a rumble of grumpy noises from your little one. You hushed him gently and apologized before the small, crackly purring resumed faintly in the background. The thought made Sukuna's heart ache.

“What do you wanna know?”

Sukuna inhaled deeply. “Why'd you keep it?”

“I wanted him,” you said. “Next question.”

“...When did you know?”

“Mmh…I guess about a week or two after we stopped hooking up.”

“And you didn't say shit?”

You went silent for a moment, and Sukuna felt his nerves tingle and prick. He wasn't anxious. He wasn't feeling betrayed. It wasn't any of that. Absolutely not.

“I guess I got cold feet,” you admitted. “I don't--I know how many baby daddy accusations you get, y'know? I didn't want you to think I was just trying to get you to pay me out or something.”

Oh. Okay. That made sense, actually.

Too many omegas and women Sukuna fucked around with pointed the finger at him if they caught some sort of STI or fell pregnant; even if it was months after fucking, Sukuna would be suspected of fathering the pregnancy of a newly-pregnant, ex-partner he hadn't seen in eternities, and the media would run to the ends of the earth with it. He was the infamous bad boy the media circuit loved to prey on. And Sukuna didn't really care for it–not until now. Not until those fucks ruined his opportunity to be a dad.

“Fucking–” Sukuna sighed and put his mug down to rub his face. “Shit. Shit. Fucking media bastards. Fuck.”

“I need to get my car tuned,” you said.

Sukuna deadpanned. “Read the fucking room, babe, we're not–”

“Do you want me to bring Touma?” You finished, undeterred by the alpha's grouchiness. “So you can meet him? I think he'd like that.”

Oh. Oh. Ouch. His heart–was Sukuna about to die? Why'd his chest hurt so much? What the fuck?

Sukuna cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “I–yeah? Yeah. Alright.”

“Okay, cool. When's your next–”

“Tomorrow.” He cleared his throat again and scratched at the back of his neck. “Any time.”

You stifled a laugh poorly. “Don’t be nervous, Sukuna.”

“M'not. Fuck you.”

“I can do tomorrow. Let's saaay…1pm?”

“Yeah, sure. 1pm.”

You rolled up at 12:59pm.

Sukuna had the garage open, everything tidy and ready to go like he actually gave a fuck about tuning your car when his literal fucking son was about to be in his presence. But he was so not nervous. Definitely not fucking nervous. Nope. Nuh-uh. Never.

You stepped out of the car and Sukuna felt his heart jump; you looked the same as you did last time he saw you. You were dressed more casually, though, done up in joggers and runners with a university hoodie to top it all off. Clearly, you didn't care to impress today.

You threw Sukuna an easy smile before pulling open the back door and taking care in plucking your chubby bunny from his car seat. All the while, Sukuna wandered closer and closer, but maintained a respectful distance just in case your momma bear came out to bite. He knew you had an impressive temper when your easy-going self got pushed too far, and he would rather not bring that out right now.

“Pa!” Your son yipped as soon as he got up into your arms. “Puh Pa!”

You melted immediately, punching Sukuna in the gut with your happy scent of maple syrup and cardamom as the little one nuzzled up to you, repeating variants of “pa!” as he rubbed his chubby cheeks and snotty nose against your neck and face to get that perfect scent onto him.

“You're so sweet, bunny,” you cooed and adjusted him in your arms as you met Sukuna the rest of the way. “Hey, hey! So, did you want to meet him first, or–?”

Sukuna didn't know what the fuck to do, honestly.

“I, uh. Car shit first. What needs tuning?” He drawled, watching the pup clinging to you with rapt attention.

Admittedly, Sukuna didn't really pay attention to what you were saying and what you were gesturing to; he was too captivated by the faint wisps of scent he caught from your little one. He smelled of smoke and syrup–a perfect combination of his parents’ scents.

And he just looked so much like the both of you. Touma's skin tone tilted more your direction, but the glowy, bronzey quality that Sukuna brought to the table still shone through in its own weird way. His eyes were almond-shaped like his own, but bore the same, welcoming colour of yours. And, fuck, his hair was just a perfect match to Sukuna's. If the little shit got Maori tattoos too, he'd be a tiny carbon copy.

Damn. Speaking of–would his mom wanna meet the little shit? Her grandson? Would she ever bother leaving Hawaii to–

“You get all that?” You asked.

Sukuna stared at you. “Get what?”

You pursed your lips like you so often did and turned to the big, bad alpha.

“Maybe we should do the meet ‘n greet first, huh?” You swayed a little and kissed Touma awake. “Baby, you wanna meet a friend?”

“Buh!” Touma exclaimed. You gently guided his little face to look at Sukuna, and the boy looked star struck staring up at the absolute unit that was Ryoumen Sukuna.

“Touma, this is Sukuna.” You closed the gap between the two of you a little more, and Sukuna leaned down to look at the little one. His little one.

Sukuna twitched a smile as he looked over the little thing. “You sure this thing’s mine? Looks a little small.”

You laughed. “If you were born as big as you are, I’m so, so sorry for your mother.” You nuzzled Touma’s little cheek and bounced him a little.

“Wuh!” Touma’s little arms flew up towards Sukuna, and the towering man looked a little more than nervous, looking at the tiny pudgy hands like they were deadly weapons.

“Come on, don’t look at him like that.” You took Sukuna’s hand and delivered it to Touma. “He’s curious. He hasn’t met anyone as big and tall as you, y’know?”

Sukuna huffed, but let the little one grab at his fingers and hold his hand. “What, you don’t have another alpha looking after you? Hard to believe that. You're the neediest little bitch I know.”

“Stop. I'm not Yorozu,” you huffed, and Sukuna cringed at the name. “He has alphas around, sure. But not big ones like you–security excluded. It's not like other men want to play nice with another alpha's pup.”

Sukuna caught the hint of a frown on your face, and his hackles started to rise.

“Some dumbfuck giving you grief?” Sukuna asked, voice rolling with thunderous promise. He'd kill whatever moron fucked with you and his pup. You just had to drop the name.

You sighed, light-hearted. “You know what the rich and famous are like--we're the worst.”

Sukuna growled, and Touma mimicked the noise as best as he could with his pathetically teeny tiny crackled voice. Fuckin’ cute as shit.

“Tch. Don't sell yourself short.”

“I'm just trying to say I don't need that around my boy, and I sure as hell don't want it around me, either.” You nodded and stepped closer as Touma reached up for Sukuna again. Apparently just holding his hand wasn't doing it for the boy anymore.

“Good. Don't need those pathetic fucks around the runt–oi, wait, what the fuck're you–”

“Wup, wup!” Your son shrieked as you helped bully Sukuna into holding him.

“He wants uppies.”

“Uppies,” Sukuna balked.

“He wants you to–okay, you're bad at this–don't hold him like that! Here, do it like–” you cut off as you helped Sukuna get a comfortable hold on Touma while the littlest one squirmed and squeaked in delight, trying to climb up onto Sukuna's shoulder but failing miserably.

Sukuna twitched a smile as you sighed, exasperated by the ball of energy trying to scale the mountainous man. But he got a hold of him, tucking his arm under his butt and holding his back to make sure the little shit didn't go plummeting to the floor.

“You give your ma hell, huh? I can get behind that,” Sukuna hummed. His son's little hands papped at his face, grabbing at his nose and jaw–specifically over the dark tattoos streaking along the curves and cut of his features.

And you smiled the entire time. You pursed your lips tightly to hide it, but you did it so poorly. You always did. Maybe it was on purpose.

“So, can I tell you about my car problems now?”

Sukuna held onto his runt while you explained what flaws, either cosmetically or mechanically, were bothering you. It mostly consisted of slight dents from other assholes not knowing how to park, paint scratches, and more of that sort. As a fellow car guy, Sukuna could understand the anguish of having a favourite baby get all dinged up.

“Not hard to fix,” Sukuna decided. He held the hood up with one hand and looked over the motor–everything looked clean and well-maintained. He was almost impressed. “But, well, it'll cost ya. Uraume can send the details.”

You nodded. “Sure, sure, sounds good. I'm never taking this thing on the road again after it's fixed. Too many fucking idiots out there with piss poor driving skills.”

The mechanic smirked. “Ho? So beating up your car is what makes you start cussin’, huh? Noted.” He let the hood fall closed and adjusted his hold on the now-sleeping tot. “Couldn't even get you to do that in bed.”

“Psht, don't say that in front of the baby, Sukuna, jeeze,” you sighed and rubbed your face. “Babies remember more than you'd like to know.”

“Huh. You think he'll remember when he got–”

“No, he won't remember his inception.” You laughed and shook your head, but paused when you saw smears of concealer on your fingers and tutted.

“How long's the car gonna take? Should I get a rental?” You asked before the man could comment.

“Probably, if you want me to detail this thing right,” Sukuna mumbled. He reached out and turned your chin back to him, looking at the spots concealer missing, hinting at dark circles under your eyes.

Your face grew hot, but you nodded and cleared your throat. “Yeah, okay. I'll, uh. I'll call someone to pick us up–”

“I'll take you home.”

You brightened the slightest bit. “Yeah? I–okay.” You pulled his hand from your face and smiled. “I'll grab the car seat.”

Sukuna liked your house. It was a nice mix of traditional and modern with large stretches of woodgrain and bamboo. A neat outdoor garden and pond decorated the front, but a bigger, more lush collection of tropical plants greeted guests. It was beautiful, if one was desperate to be in nature.

“I'm just gonna get him to bed, be one second.”

Sukuna nodded and pocketed his hands as he pretended to not watch you trot upstairs with the sleepy cub melting in your arms. You still had a nice ass even after popping that little melon out. Huh.

He looked around your space more, wandering with slow, lumbering steps. The house wasn't huge by any means, but it was cozy and warm, quiet and hidden away from the city's gaze. That was probably why you chose it–here, you could be honest with yourself. You could shield your babe from the brutality of your career and keep him safe from leering eyes. Honestly, one of the leaves on your giant monstera could hide him from the whole universe.

Guy's too obsessed with growing shit. It ticked him off, but he didn't know why.

Maybe it was all the photos of you and Touma. Maybe it was because he wasn't in them and too many other men were in his place, lining your walls in the protection of cheap IKEA frames–but Sukuna didn't want you. No, no, Ryoumen Sukuna did not want anyone. He didn't want you. He didn't need to settle down and–

“You want a glass of wine?” You asked when you came back down the stairs. “It's plum wine. Don't really have any scotch or anything, but I–”

Sukuna scoffed before a mocking laugh slipped out of him. You paused, looking at him with bleak attention as he shook his head and pocketed his hands. Your request for him to stay pissed him off; clearly, you expected something more from him.

“Whaddaya think is gonna happen here, huh? You think we're gonna fall in love, pick up where we left off, have a happy little fuckin’ family to tell the tabloids about?”

“What?” You asked. “I never–”

“Didn't have to. Gotta admit, you did a better job than the rest of the whores that tried wrangling me in to–”

“All I asked,” you cut him off, voice quiet but firm, “Is if you wanted wine. I’m not proposing, Sukuna.”

Sukuna didn’t like that. The whole…not-being-into-him and not wanting him to stick around after he just shut you down. He sucked his teeth and took a breath, about to say something, but you spoke first.

“I know this is a PR thing. I know how the whole media circus works–you want your ex to stop bothering you, and I want people to stop asking questions about who the fucking father of my son is.” You paused, staring Sukuna dead in his eyes, a quiet, simmering rage boiling just beneath the surface of placid control.

“Call my manager when the car’s done,” you decided, sounding beaten down and exhausted. “I’ll send someone for it. Thanks for the ride home.”

Next thing the man knew, he was ushered toward the door and stood in the doorway, stuck on the idea of being kicked out of his omega’s–no, no, out of an omega’s house like he was trash.

“Fucking–wait, just–”

“What?” You snapped.

“I could–glass of wine doesn’t sound too bad–”

You shoved the bottle into his hands and slammed the door.

Sukuna tried to sleep it off–as in, he slept around to forget about the crushing weight of rejection collapsing down on him, shattering his chest, spearing his heart with shattered bone.

You still kept being so fucking nice to him, too. You never slandered him, never spoke ill whenever he was asked about in interviews–you spared his reputation with a kind smile every time you had to talk about him or to him.

And he was grateful for it, even if he didn't return the favor. It's not like he was on a smear campaign, no, but anytime a hook up would ask about you, he wouldn't give a glowing review, per se. But it wouldn't be scalding either. Just sheer indifference tainted with drops of bitterness stemming from unripe guilt.

It went on like that for months–until you did your parental duties, and set aside your feelings about Sukuna for the sake of your son.

“Uraume, get that,” Sukuna called as his phone rang. He was too busy fucking around under the hood of his latest project to wipe his hands free of grease and pick up himself, obviously.

But Uraume was there for a reason. They picked up the phone with a polite hello before their sharp frigidity melted into rounded edges.

“(Name)-san,” they hummed. “It's good to hear from you. Do you need to talk to Sukuna-san?”

Sukuna started wiping his hands off so unbelievably fast.

“He's working on a car right now. You know how he can be when he's focused.”

“Fucking–piece of shit–what the fuck–” somehow, he got even more grease and oil on his hands thanks to that stupid fucking rag. God, what a nightmare.

“Sure, I can take a message.”

“Fuckin’ shit fuck, fuck.” He wiped his hands on his designer jeans before running to Uraume and gesturing for the phone.

Uraume's brows raised, and they actually smiled.

“Ah, hold on, Sukuna-san's here.”

Sukuna snatched up the phone, ignoring the knowing look glimmering in Uraume’s eyes. Ugh. Ugh. Betas.

“Hey,” Sukuna said after clearing his throat.

“Hey! Ume said you were working on a car? You didn't have to stop to talk.”

“Yeah, well.” Sukuna shrugged to himself and kicked a scrapped car part, sending it skittering across the ground and clanking into other parts. Jesus, when did his shop get so messy? “Needed a break anyway.”

“Ah. You work too hard, you need to take breaks more often,” you laughed sweetly. “So, listen, Touma's birthday's coming up–”

“Shit, seriously?” Sukuna grinned and kicked another chopped part. “Fuck. How old's the little shit turning?”

“Two! He's growing up so fast, I wish I could slow down time and–” you paused and laughed, suddenly sounding unsure and a bit nervous. “Sorry, sorry, was about to go on a tangent. Anyway, there is a little get-together, but you don't have to come. Satoru and Toji'll be there. But your brother and his son'll be there, too, so it won't suck completely.

“Otherwise, if you want to come see him earlier or something, that's fine, and–and you're not cutting me off and I didn't think I'd get this far so I'm losing the plot.”

Sukuna huffed. “What, you don't want me to fuckin’ listen, huh?”

“I know you will since I have such a pretty voice, but I'm surprised you're being a good boy for once.”

The mechanic rolled his eyes and rubbed his face. Who knows if it was to wipe away embarrassment or fatigue.

“You’re exhausting.”

“And you’re a dick.” There was a special brand of teasing bitterness behind those words, but the vibes were balanced perfectly; seemed you were still cranky about what he said, but you were willing to let it slide.

Sukuna chuckled, relaxing the slightest bit. “Alright. I don't know what the fuck kids like at that age, but I'll figure somethin’ out. I can at least show up Jin.”

“Wow.”

“Text me time and place. I'll be there.” After a moment, he added, “I’ll bring some plum wine. Fancy shit.”

The hidden rumble of a purr snuck its way out from your side, and Sukuna did everything he could to suppress his alpha's reciprocation.

“Sounds good. See you then, Sukuna.”

Toji answered the door.

“Hah. Why the hell are you here?” The fuckhead ex-Zenin asked with a stupid, shitty smirk on his dumbass face.

Sukuna strained not to throw the first punch. He really shouldn't murder someone at his--your son's birthday party. Murder is bad. Murder is bad.

“Fuck you.” Hey, at least it wasn't murder. “‘M here for my fucking kid.”

Toji crossed his arms and suddenly looked beyond bored as he leaned against the doorframe.

“Your kid? You mean (Name)’s kid?” He wondered, putting on a show of thinking. “Weird.”

“You're one to talk. You forgetting what you did to your own brat? You fuckin’--”

“Sukuna!” Your sweet voice called, instantly changing the atmosphere. “Glad you came. Do you–oi, Toji, move, stop bodyguarding. You're not a bouncer.”

“Eh?” Toji stayed in his spot as you smacked at his arm and tried to push him away. “I'm just standing here. Not bodyguarding. Minding my business.”

“You’re so full of shit.” You wheezed and squeaked as the man suddenly gave way, nearly making you crash into him and plummet to the floor. But you caught yourself and hissed at the dark-haired menace until he whistled innocently and waltzed away.

“Fucking--why’s he here again?” Sukuna grumbled as you let him in. He leaned down to nose at your cheek with a grumpy, quiet grunt--typical greeting procedures for an interested individual or bonded pair. But the way you choked on whatever you were about to say meant he must've caught you off guard.

“He's uh–we work together. We've worked together? He was the stunt coordinator for some movies I've been in.” You cleared your throat and took the present bag from Sukuna to place with the others. “And I babysit Gumi sometimes.”

“Gumi? What the fuck is a Gumi?”

“Megumi? His son?” Oh. Oh. “I babysit Yuuji too, so. Thick as thieves, y'know?”

Sukuna nodded a little, thinking hard on the lore. He liked that Yuuji was taken care of by you, but surely that wretched Gumi could go somewhere else. Toji was probably just leeching off of you.

“Oi, Momma, get in here,” Toji crowed from wherever all the baby giggles and excitement bubbled from in the house. “Your boys need some maternal guidance–”

“Toji, don't make it weird!” Jin whisper-yelled before going on a long-winded rant about this and that, about proper behaviour and attitudes in front of children (not that the kids were paying attention to anything Toji did).

You gave Sukuna a tired smile. “Come on. It won’t be that bad, I promise.”

Sukuna sighed, but let you drag him to his demise, bottle of wine in-hand.

But it wasn’t that bad. Not really.

Your other boys, Gojo Satoru and Getou Suguru, showed up and showered tiny Touma with way too much praise and far too many gifts, but the little shit looked so pleased that Sukuna couldn’t get too annoyed. Shoko and Uraume came by, too, much to Sukuna’s surprise. Uraume brought with them a whole fucking confectionary cake they’d crafted themselves at home. Gojo obsessed over it and Getou tried to reign him in to no avail.

And the night went on. No one talked shit, not unless it was in good fun, no one got fucking hammered, no one talked about work–it was all about the kids. Nothing else. No one else.

Sukuna could never guess just how far that truth went.

When everyone left for the night, the alpha could start to see the edges of your smile fraying. But you held on, thanking everyone for the gifts and for showing up for Touma, and especially thanking Jin for offering to let all the little ones spend the night at his place (you and Toji would forever be in his debt).

Then, when the door closed and all fell silent, he heard you cry.

Sukuna didn't know what to do about people crying. He never had. Even when he was a kid, he had a hard time trying to comfort people with hugs and words of reassurance–he just couldn't do it.

“It's okay,” he heard you whisper. “It's okay. It's okay. You're okay. It's okay. I'm okay.”

Sukuna got up and leaned against the doorway to the kitchen. “Sure about that?”

You jumped and clasped a hand over your mouth to stifle your scream. Sukuna barked out an ugly, reedy laugh while he defended himself from your petty smacks and pinches.

“You scared the fuck out of me–why're you still even here? Go home! Shoo!” You wiped your eyes once you were done harassing him and turned away, busying yourself with cleaning up dishes and wrapping paper left in the aftermath.

Sukuna followed you idly, a shit-eating grin still plastered on his face. What could he say? He loved seeing you get all petty and riled up. But he didn't love seeing you cry. He didn't love seeing you try to stealthily wipe tears away, to try and steady your shaky breathing.

“What’s going on with you, babe?” Sukuna asked as he settled beside you at the sink.

“It's nothing,” you said with a snuffle. “It's seriously nothing. Sorry, I--you don't need to stay. Or anything.” You sighed and rubbed at your eyes with your sleeve. “You've done your fatherly duties. You're free to leave.”

“Yeah? ‘N what about my baby daddy duties?” He wondered, voice so horribly low and comforting, like the buzzing crackle of a campfire.

You laughed, watery and shaky. “You already did everything you needed to, Sukuna.”

“Come on, don't cockblock me like that.” He gently tilted your Chin his way to catch your eyes just like he had back at the shop all those months ago. “Look at me.”

You did. Your eyes were red and irritated, whatever pretty boy make up you wore was wiped off and smudged, and those heavy, dark bags met the light in front of someone else for the first time in a long time.

You still had the gall to laugh it off and pull Sukuna's hand from your face with a small, “I'm fine,” though.

“Then why the hell are you crying?” He asked.

You squeezed his hand with both of yours. “Things are just…hard. Overwhelming.”

Sukuna nodded a bit. “That why Jin took the runts tonight?”

“Yeah. Needed some time, I guess.” You snuffled and wiped your face with both hands before finishing up with cleaning. “Makes me sound like a shit parent, I know.”

Sukuna couldn’t disagree more. “Least you're not flipping out on the kid. That'd be way shittier, yeah?”

“I don't know. I guess, but–yeah. I don't know.”

Sukuna sighed and scooped you up like a new bride. “You're driving me fucking mental.”

“Sukuna–!”

“Quiet.” Your omega indeed piped down at the grouchy command, and you shyly let the man carry you up the steps to find your bedroom. “You're getting some damn rest. You look like shit.”

You grumbled something Sukuna elected to ignore in favour of tossing you onto a bed the way one might lob a stone into a pond. You landed with a warbled squawk and looked at Sukuna with horribly accusatory, baffled eyes.

Sukuna quirked a brow as he looked down on you, gladly using his broad build and tall stature to secure your submission. And it worked; the aggravated spark in your eyes curled up and fell silent after a few long seconds. Your head lowered just the slightest bit, too, but your passive gaze remained stuck on him, waiting for his next move.

“Fine,” you grumbled.

Sukuna raised his brows and eased onto the bed, caging you underneath him with his solid frame. Your scent flickered with shy playfulness, and Sukuna relished in it.

“How do I know you're gonna obey, omega?”

“I guess you don't. Not for certain,” you admitted begrudgingly.

“Tch. Someone's gotta keep you accountable then, huh?” He nosed at your neck, nearly letting his lips touch your neck but refusing to do so in the same instance. “Make sure you're doing the right thing, make sure you're behaving.”

One of his hands squeezed at your soft thigh before inching up little by little. Your hands found themselves in his hair as he teased at your joggers’ waistband, pulling the elastic taut before letting it go.

“Sukuna,” you laughed, sounding a little breathless. “I, uh–I thought you said–”

“Changed my mind.”

“But–”

“Forget what I said and let me make you cum on my fingers, brat.”

Oh. Well, hard to argue against that.

You swallowed but gave a meek nod. He ripped your bottoms off and felt up your blazing skin with rough, calloused hands, groping and grabbing in the same spots he liked back when you were hooking up: your thighs, your hip bones, the squish of your stomach. As much as the man harped on about not wanting “damaged goods,” he sure worshiped your body like it was brand new, untouched.

Sukuna brought his fingers to your mouth, and you took them with utmost compliance. Your tongue worked against his digits thoughtfully and thoroughly for your own sake–a lack of starter lube wouldn't end well, after all. And Sukuna was not the most patient man in the sack.

“See?” Sukuna crowed into your ear as his hand traveled south and a finger sunk into you. “It's not so bad to just behave, now is it?”

You already felt like you were about to explode, and Sukuna savoured It. He liked being the one to do this to you–the only one for a while, considering how tight and sensitive you were. Any little push or prod inside you brought sweet sighs and soft moans to the surface–and a second and third finger had your hips bucking and your nails digging into his shoulder and back as he finger-fucked you to oblivion while still caging you in.

“Good omega,” he cooed. “Gonna cum already, huh? Tch, you shoulda said no one’s been taking care of you; I would’ve taken my parental responsibilities more seriously.” His lips and teeth landed on your neck, as you curled up into him, body tensing, heels digging into the mattress, panting and gasping getting louder and faster. The sound made his pants strain even more.

“Fuck, you smell fucking good. Better than when I fucked you the first time.”

“I-I forgot you talked so much in bed,” you managed out. “Could you just–shut up?”

Sukuna growled, and you whined. “You want me to shut up, huh? You wanna listen to your slick fucking hole getting spread open, plowed into? You miss me that much, omega?”

“No.” You hissed and clung to his upper arm as he somehow managed to take it up a notch, slipping his fourth finger in and spreading you obscenely wide.

“I think you did. Think you were hopin’ I’d come around, plow you into the bed again, stuff you full like no one else can.”

“Sukuna–”

“I’ll fill this hole up all you want, baby–I’ll even stuff another pup in you. Twins. You want that, huh? You gonna be my omega from now on? Creaming on my cock ‘n fingers the way you shoulda been the day you walked your perfect, little ass into my life?”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up–” you choked on a gasp and bit into his shoulder, soaking his shirt with drool and shuddered mewls while your body tightened and ecstasy hit like the weight of Sukuna’s words–brutal, fast, honest.

Sukuna moaned in sympathy, ignoring the way his hand and arm cramped and ached to keep pistoning into you and draw out your high. He couldn't help it–something about you drove him mad in that moment. It could have been how you made his ego swell, it might've been the way his greed needed your slick staining his and only his skin, perhaps it could have been a quiet yearning coming from his lonely, hollow alpha. He didn't know. But he didn't question it.

Your body started to relax with the death grip you had on his shoulder as you came down from the sudden, electric high. Your hips still jolted with every slow, lazy push into your soft hole, though a haze of purring and cooing filled the spot where gasps and moans once did. Eventually, you melted off of him and collapsed onto your back, looking as content as a cat lounging in the sun.

“Oi, oi, you're not done yet, sweetheart.” But if you said you were done, he might've listened. Just that once.

You hummed something as you looked up at him, eyes doey and so egregiously lovey-dovey.

“That's a nice face. Make sure you save it just for me,” Sukuna gently commanded, and you laughed.

“Demanding. I thought you didn't like used goods.”

Sukuna scowled. “Shut up.” His free hand traced the stripes of stretched skin left in the wake of bearing his baby boy. “I like ‘em when they're used by me.”

“Does that really make them ‘used goods,’ then?” You murmured as if speaking logic too loud would break Sukuna's entranced obsession of you.

But maybe, maybe, you had a point.

“Guess I'll have to think on that.” His fingers slipped out of you and he gave you a wet slap on the ass to wake you up. Your subsequent squeak sure as hell woke Sukuna up.

“Ow. Gross.”

“I'm not finished with you, brat. Don't get too fuckin’ content, yeah?” He smirked when you glanced at his crotch expectantly. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Please.”

Sukuna sighed and settled between your legs as he futzed with his belt and button. “Could put up a bit of a fight.”

“Too tired.” You yawned and stretched with a pleased sigh. “No will to argue.”

The alpha leaned down to bite at your knee, and you pulled your legs together to avoid his chunky, rude fangs. You knew he'd delight in making you bleed or leaving dark bruises. He was the worst.

“Still got a little fight left in ya,” Sukuna said with a grin. “Let's see how much more we can find, hm?”

#male reader insert #sukuna x you #sukuna x m!reader #jjk #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #reader insert #ryoumen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #jjk smut #jjk x male reader #jjk x y/n #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader #itadori sukuna x reader

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paulmias · 1 year ago

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paul mescal request 👀

maybe meeting him at an industry party and sharing a cigarette and then it evolves

You Can Be The Boss | Paul Mescal X Fem! Reader

As an actress, and daughter of two of the biggest names in your country of the 90’s, It was inevitable that your name would make it onto the list of Gucci’s Fashion week list.

They had flown you out to Milan, saw that you had a hotel room and clothes for the event, all so you could sit and watch as dozens of models strut about in clothes most people would have to work decades to afford.

When the models would pass you, your gaze kept lingering to him, how could it not? There was a mesmerising sort of charm about him. It consumed you, you had tried to approach him when the event coordinators were ushering hoards of high profile people into limousines to take them to the after party, but you’d had no luck.

You couldn’t find his eyes in the sea of people dancing to whatever the DJ was playing, the music was far too loud, it brought back the migraine you had managed to shift a few days back, after swiping a champagne flute from one of the waiters walking around with them, you snuck out onto the balcony that overlooked Milan.

Having forgotten to bring your own case of cigarettes, you let out an exasperated sigh before downing the champagne. When you lowered the glass from your lips, He was there, cigarette between his lips, almost grinning, his appearence had been so sudden that you’d jumped and dropped the flute over the balcony.

Watching it fall, you felt like an asshole for whoever would have to clean that up later. “Fuck!” The words escaped your lips before you could think properly.

You heard his chuckle and turned to face him. The urge to tell him he was at fault restrained itself. “Do you want a light? I saw you checking that bag of yours for one.” Paul offered. You nod, not exactly desperate for one, but you certainly wouldn’t decline one.

He puts his between his lips and then pulls the case out from his pocket, the only one that remains is squished, not nearly useful enough for you to smoke.

He pulls the one from his lips out, and offers it to you. “You sure?” You question. He nods, and you look so relieved before placing it between your pointer and middle fingers.

After a few exchanges of the cigarette, he speaks as you have it in your lips. “I’ve seen your work, I adore your recent film. Are your team pushing for award nominations?” He asked.

You nodded, your agency was not nearly as cutthroat in that aspect as you would have liked, but you had signed a six year contract with them five years ago, so you would soon be free from them, and hopefully be able to join a more affluent agency. You handed him the cigarette.

“Thank you.” The two of you spoke in unison before chuckling “Yeah, my Uhm, my team are trying but I’m with an agency that are like, more focused on modelling so it’s a bit of a challenge but, I’m still young, I’ve got time to win awards.” You replied.

He takes a drag as he nods. “You looking to change agents?” He questioned, you nodded. “My manager’s looking for new clients, I could pass your name along if you’d like.” He offered.

His manager, you had heard, was a woman very dedicated to her job. “I’d love that, thank you.” You told him. You take a step closer to him, it just feels natural. “You’re gorgeous do you know that?” He asked.

You blushed, which caused him to chuckle, it wasn’t mockingly, rather, one of enjoyment of seeing you so flustered by his compliment. “You’re not so bad yourself.” You replied.

He dropped the cigarette onto the floor and leant forward, his face centimetres away from your own, and then he cupped his hands around your face, pulled you in and kissed you.

A/N: This is my first time writing x reader stuff .. hope u enjoyed

#paul mescal #paul mescal x reader #x reader #normal people #connell waldron #aftersun #gladiator 2 #gods creatures #foe #carmen

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thewulf · 1 year ago

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Cowboy || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - I was managing a gala and the theme was diamond and denim- so old rich people pretending to be cowboys with gaudy bling. And they hired a line dance teacher, and when I tell you this man had such Jake Seresin vibes!!!

A/N: Stop I had such a good time writing this one!! Sorry it took almost a month to get out but I hope you enjoy!!

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 2.5k +

“You’ve gotta stop stressing Y/N. It looks beautiful in here. It’s going to go well.” Your longtime friend and new coworker Michelle grabbed your arm as you frantically looked around the venue for God knows what now.

You let out a breath, “I know. It just has to go well. My promotion is kind of riding on the success of tonight. We need to bag this client going forward.” You let your anxiety out in front of her. You needed to impress the bosses tonight. You knew if you did they’d finally make you a manager. A position you’d been vying for.

“Relax, you’ll be just fine. You know what you’re doing. They picked you to run the show for good reason.” She squeezed your arm before dropping it, “Call me if you need anything. Try and enjoy the party.”

You laughed, “Impossible. But thank you Michelle. Couldn’t do this without you.” You walked off outside helping the florists set up the garden tables where dinner would be served.

“Excuse me.” A thicker than normal southern accent brought your attention away from the table you were placing the final touches on.

When you turned you weren’t expecting that to be there right in front of you. Handsome was an understatement. The man before you was drop dead fucking gorgeous. Not a single thing wrong with him. Who knew you had such an affinity towards literal cowboys.

“Yeah?” You asked trying your hardest to play it as cool as possible.

“Could you tell me where the,” He paused looking down at his phone, “main hall is? I’m here to teach the line dancing.”

You smiled wanting to tease him just a bit. Something told you he could handle it, “You don’t say?”

He pulled his cowboy hat off bowing a bit towards you, “Miss. My name’s Jake. Jake Seresin.”

Oh, this was just too good. Handsome as hell and a gentleman to boot? Your heart was beginning to beat faster and faster. You needed to answer him soon or things could get awkward, “Y/N. Nice to meet you Jake.” You left your last name out on purpose, “I’m the event coordinator. You stopped the right person.” Giving him a warm smile, you beckoned him to follow you with a wave from your hands.

“Isn’t it my lucky day.” He shot you a wink testing the water a little bit. He too found you painstakingly beautiful. And that smile sent his heart into a frenzy, just like yours. You were too caught up in your own head to notice any tells from him though.

“Mine too.” You opened the door for him to follow you through. Thankful for the small distraction not leaving your brain floundering. You weren’t usually one to flirt back but something was telling you to.

“You been doing this for a while?” Jake asked you interrupting you from your frenzied thoughts.

You nodded letting him catch up to your quick pace, “A few years now. I really like it. How about you?”

He laughed, “I do this in my spare time, when I’m off between deployments. I’m usually a pilot for the Navy.”

You grinned. Handsome as hell. Gentleman and he had an incredible job? He didn’t seem quite real. Taught line dancing for fun? It’s like you manifested him right then and there, “Aren’t pilots supposed to be in the Air Force?” You just had to tease him. You had a brother in the military and knew how sensitive they were to the mixing of the milarites.

A brief flash of shock crossed his face before he spotted you trying to hide the laughter behind your hand. A jokester you seemed to be. Somebody who liked to press the boundaries. Jake was used to being the one doing that. Not having that done to him. Not that he didn’t mind, it was almost too fun, “You got all the jokes there don’t you darlin’?” He smirked deciding to press your own boundaries right on back. He knew how his words affected women. How one look could get them second guessing their own actions. Jake was a pro, he knew exactly what he was doing.

Thank goodness you were wearing foundation, or the blush would’ve given you away all too easily. You were enjoying the simple flirty back and forth between the near stranger who pulled you towards him with such ease, “You haven’t even seen the half of it Jake.” Flashing him a sly smirk you opened the door towards the event halls ballroom where the activity was set up for the group. Surprisingly this event always seemed to be the hit of the corporate party year in and year out. You had a sneaking suspicion jake would be an incredible teacher and make the activity all that much better. He was so charismatic.

“Thank you.” He tipped his hat once more as you held the door open for him, “I like the sound of that.” He took in the room before him, “So, this is it?”

You nodded a small smile gracing your lips, not being able to hide it if you tried, “All yours cowboy.”

He laughed flashing you that gorgeous smile at the same time, “Careful now, I might fall in love with you if you keep talking to me like that sweetheart.” He took a small step towards you closing the small distance between the two of you. The tension in the air was so thick you thought you could swim through it. Your damn brain left you at quite literally a loss for words.

“Not that I’m not enjoying my time.” You knew you were rambling, were you even making any sense, “But I need to check on a few things. Are you all good for the 5 o’clock start?” You asked not daring to take a step away feeling the heat radiating off his body. He was so damn close you were sure he could hear your rapid-fire heartbeat.

“That’s a shame.” He removed his hat fully this time to get a good look at your face up close. He’d never seen someone quite like you. Beautiful. Clearly intelligent and driven. A mouth of a literal angel. Somebody he knew could challenge him but pull it back when needed. He just knew you were good. You were special. The universe put you in his path for his reason. He had to be sure to stop you before the end of the night. Ask you out or give you his number. Whatever you wanted, “Will I have the pleasure of teaching you Miss Y/N?” He asked once his eyes had fully scanned your face.

Shaking your head quickly you missed the quick flash of sadness in his eyes, “Oh, no. Not even you can perform miracles Jake. But I’ll make sure to stop in after you get started.”

He laughed shaking his head right back at you, “Maybe one day you’ll let me try.” He wanted to plant the seed in your head. Let you simmer on that thought for the remainder of the day before he got to talk to you again, “But until then. I look forward to seeing you again, Y/N.” He flashed you another gorgeous grin before turning away. Taking that tension right away with him as he walked to the front of the room to get ready for the group.

You let out the breath you were holding once you walked out the doors of the hall. You let you mind wander back to him and let yourself go on autopilot as you continued to get ready. Only Michelle breaking you from your mind got you out of that disassociated state.

“Are you alright?”

You nodded quickly, “Absolutely. More than alright.”

“Hmm?” She looked you over curiously as you finished perfecting the napkin at the dining tables.

“The line dancing instructor is a total flirt.” You didn’t tell much more before her normally bored expression turned into something much more devious. She’d always tried to get involved in your love life. This might be the opening she’d been waiting to pounce on.

“Is he cute?” She questioned, clearly very interested.

You nodded bashfully, “Terribly handsome.” You admitted not being that afraid to hide it. She’d surely go and check for herself at some point. No purpose in lying, she had eyes that could see herself.

“I’ll be back.” She smirked making a beeline towards the inside.

“No! Michelle.” You laughed pulling her arm to stop her, “Go in while the class is in session or something.”

She shook you off with ease, “I’m a worker. It’ll be easy. Give me five minutes.” She grinned. You let her go knowing once she had it set in her mind she’d be doing it no matter what.

She was gone for longer. No doubt getting caught in conversation with the friendly man. When she got back she had a sneaky little grin on her face, “Oh, he’s down bad for you Y/N.” She giggled.

You shook your head not really believing her because how could he? You were you and he was that. It just seemed incompatible, “Shush, he is not.”

“Then explain to me why he just played 20 questions with me about you?” She crossed her arms over her chest waiting for an explanation. You had none. Because why would he? You’d be lying if you said it didn’t bring a smile to your face.

Her smirk only grew wider in your silence, “Please just go see him later. I’ve got a good feeling about it. Please?”

You nodded quickly, “I was already planning on it.”

“Good.” She squealed with glee going back to the kitchen to finish the prep she left behind to talk to you.

You leaned against the door watching the group of people learn how to line dance from Jake. He was a natural. Flirty with the older women. Confident with young kids. Kind to the embarrassed teens. Bro’s with the boys. He could do it all. Who knew this was how you day was going to go?

Walking around the back you caught Jakes eye. Giving him a quick wave, you stopped to watch. Smiling as the joy from the group reverberated off the walls, no doubt thanks to Jake.

Not five seconds later you heard him speak, “Alright, try it for yourselves. I’ll be around helping.” And then he was making his way right towards you.

“You made it.” He spoke the second he stopped in front of you.

A quick nod brought your eyes right to his, “I did. I made a promise, didn’t I?”

You’d do anything to see him smile like he did right there, “You sure did. I’m glad you kept it.”

“Wouldn’t miss a chance at this.” You grinned referring to the class and to him. A double entendre per say.

He held out a hand, “Take another one then. Chance that is.” He winked sending a shiver right down your spine. You hoped he miss the goosebumps that rolled right down your arm. Should you? It’d only be a moment. It’s not like the client would mind.

Deciding to go for it you gently placed your hand in his, “Alright cowboy. But you have to lead. I don’t have a clue what I’m doing, and I don’t think there’s a bone in me that has an ounce of rhythm.” You let your insecurities flow out after seeing him dance so effortlessly before you moments ago.

He nodded pulling you, softly, right behind him, “Sure thing darlin’. Nothing to be nervous over. They’re all in their own little world anyway. It’s just you and me.” He tried reassuring you once he found a spot off to the side, careful of your reluctance to go towards the front.

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.” You admitted, sure the makeup you’d applied twelve hours earlier was long gone by all the sweating you’d done throughout the day setting the event up. The blush he made you feel was surely evident at this point.

He laughed grabbing at both your hands setting you up for whatever dance he was planning on leading you in, “I won’t let you fail. Trust me on that.” All you could do was nod up at him as you listened to him. It felt deeper, like it meant something more.

Smiling the entire time, you listened to both him and the music as you fumbled your way through the partnered line dance. You apologized and giggled every time you stepped on his foot or bumped into his side. He took it in stride smiling back at you. Bumping you back. Lifting you up so you wouldn’t trample your feet.

You were having pure, unadulterated fun with the nearly complete stranger who made you feel oddly comfortable. You clicked with him the moment you laid eyes on him and now the rest felt like destiny. For being as reluctant as you were you were surprised how disappointed you were when the music ended, and Jake dropped your hand. You shouldn’t have wanted him to hold it like he just was but here you were, pathetic.

“You’re a natural.” He smiled admiring you from the small distance he’d placed between the two of you.

You snorted out a laugh, “And you cowboy, are a liar.”

He shook his head taking the cowboy hat off now, “Embellisher of the truth. My momma would be awfully disappointed if she heard you call me a liar.” The smirk that crossed his face should’ve been illegal, it had your knees shaking for dear life.

You laughed it off though, nodding in agreement, “Sure, we’ll go with that. Embellisher of the truth.” A genuine smile came to your face as you conversed easily with him. It felt so natural. Incredibly different than anything you were used to.

He looked around a tad disappointed himself, “I hate to cut this short gorgeous, but I am being paid and people need some help.” Placing the cowboy hat on you he took a step back with a lopsided grin on his face, “Keep that. Maybe a little too big for you but it’s yours.”

“How do I look?” You stuck your leg out holding onto the hat with the other, posing a bit for him.

He shook his head knowing he needed to see you again, “More stunning than words can describe. You were meant for a cowboy hat.” He reached out giving your hand a squeeze, “Tell me when I can take you out on a real date Y/N?”

“You want to? Take me on a date?” You weren’t sure if you’d heard him right. All signs pointed towards they did but you needed to confirm. What a whirlwind of a day you were having.

“I’d be honored.” He grinned waiting for your response.

“How’s Friday night sound?” You asked sounding far too eager. But that same smile from earlier didn’t let you get too embarrassed.

“Friday sounds amazing. I’ll pick you up?” He asked sounding a tad more timid than he had moments prior.

“It’s a date cowboy.”

He smirked giving your hand one last squeeze before walking away, “it’s a date darlin’.”

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @mayhemmanaged @hardballoonlove

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tgmsunmontue · 9 months ago

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More than movie magic... 17/24

Hangster AU. Explicit (eventually). Jake is a Hollywood actor and Bradley is a stunt coordinator. Jake's about to make a few self-discoveries. So is Bradley.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FOURTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN

Chapter 16 is pretty much the only explicit chapter (so far), so you can skip it if you like, but it's not explicit by my standards, and it's very soft/tender.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

There’s an annoying buzz and he knows it’s not his alarm, because he very carefully ensured that all four of them were turned off last night before going to the barn and meeting Bradley. It’s not stopping and he wonders if maybe Bradley has an alarm set, but Bradley’s glaring at the ground, specifically the pair of pants holding the phone that’s vibrating and he groans. They’re his pants, so it’s likely his phone ringing.

“I just want to ignore it,” Jake mutters, letting his head thump back onto the pillow.

“At least get it and turn it off. It’s not even seven,” Bradley says, pushing him slightly, but still kissing his shoulder and it’s clearly a promise for something if he hurries back to bed and he rolls out, reaches for his hastily discarded jeans and pulls out his phone. The front screen is lit up with the image of Karina and if she’s calling this early it’s potentially not a good thing.

Fuck.

“Sorry, it’s my PR manager. I better take this.”

“You want me to go?”

“No. No, not at all,” Jake says, giving him a quick kiss before sitting on the edge of the bed and Bradley rests his hand on his thigh, fingers running through the fine sprinkling of hair, and it wavers between ticklish and turning him on and he has to ignore it either way, thumbs over to answer the call.

“Hello? Karina?”

“Yeah. Hi. Morning Jake, sorry for the early call, but I left it as late as I could. Would have called earlier, but well, was trying to figure out how far the photos had spread.”

“Photos?” Jake asks, because there aren’t any photos he can think of that would make Karina need to call him so early, and she’s in California, it’s even earlier there.

“Yes Jake. Photos. You know, you’re meant to be one of my easy clients.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Photos got leaked of you dancing and kissing a guy. Now –”

“Not just a guy. My boyfriend,” Jake says, turning to Bradley to ask the silent question with his eyebrows. The smile he gets back is all the answer he needs. “It’s fine.”

“Oh. You couldn’t have given me a heads up?”

“It’s like… two days old? Three I guess?” Jake asks, rubbing his eyes before dropping his hand to cover Bradley’s one, although he turns it and links their fingers together. The reassuring touch makes the tension melt out of him before it even has time to build, Bradley shifts and wraps his arms around him, legs also stretching to be either side of him and he lets himself lean back into his solid warmth.

“Oh great. Then I’ll go for the whole invasion of privacy thing –”

“No. No… you don’t need to do that either. My entire family were there. It was probably one of them that took photos and posted it to their Insta account or something. Just. Confirm I’m in a new relationship with someone and I’d like people to respect our privacy going forward.”

“Okay. I can do that. Do I get a name?”

“I don’t want his name coming out until he says it’s okay.”

“Of course.”

“It’s Bradley Bradshaw.”

“Oh.”

He’s not sure how to interpret that single word, but then she’s telling him she’ll handle it and hanging up on him and okay, so today is going to be a shitshow for her, but he’s far away from it and can probably ignore everything for a few days. He twists his head to try and meet Bradley’s eye.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t want you to get caught up in all this.”

“Were you planning on me being a secret?”

Jake frowns.

“You think I dance with people like I danced with you in the hope that it’ll stay a secret?”

“You think I let famous people dance with me like that with the expectation that it will be a secret?”

“Yeah. Okay. Point taken. But there’s a difference between wanting to protect you from media scrutiny and keeping it a secret. You’ve met my parents. Everyone here probably thinks we’re sleeping together…”

“We are sleeping together,” Bradley states.

“They might think it’s only sex.”

“Well, then they’d be wrong. Jake… they’re going to dig shit up on me. I was a child actor, my parents both died when I was young. However I was raised by two people who guarded my privacy like hawks…”

“Two people?” Jakes asks, doing a double take.

“Yeah. Pete and his partner…”

“Pete Mitchell has a partner?”

“Yep.”

“That private huh?”

“Yep. You’ll meet them soon enough…” Jake isn’t an idiot, knows Bradley is being deliberately vague with the pronouns, although they could just prefer those pronouns of course.

“Jake. I knew what I was signing up for. Media circus and all. If it bothered me that much I would have said something, or simply stayed away from you. But I’m right here. And I’ve got no plans on going anywhere.”

Something uncurls inside him, because knowing that upfront is a relief, although he knows Bradley could change his mind, or simply get over it, being the center of said media circus.

“Also, while we’re having this conversation, they’ll dig up my net worth and all the people saying I’m a gold digger will have to shut up.”

Jake twists further around to stare at him, because that’s surprising. Bradley just grins, presses a kiss to his shoulder and Jake keeps twisting, pushing back until Bradley is lying on the bed and he straddles him, places his hands on his shoulders and Bradley just looks up at him, smug and arrogant like he knows what he just said is going to annoy Jake and he’s done it on purpose.

“You’re kind of an asshole.”

“I grew up in Hollywood, when you think about that, then it’s a miracle I’m as normal as I am.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. What is your net worth?”

“I don’t know. Probably more than yours.”

“Really now? You don’t know?”

“Meh. I don’t care. But I’ve been around a lot longer than you, and I’ve had people managing my money very carefully for longer than you’ve been in the business.”

“But you work…” Jake says.

“So do you. I work because I love my job. Not because I have to. It’s why I can afford to be picky about the jobs we take.”

“You took this one.”

“Well. Yeah.”

They just stare at each other for a few beats and Bradley shrugs and Jake lets out a pleased laugh and sprawls over him, kissing him and feeling like everything will be okay.

“I’m not going to be reading the press okay? Let alone believing any of it or letting it bother me. If I have any issues with anything I’ll raise them directly with you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

… … …

He has to leave Jake, there are no spare clothes and his shirt is definitely not fit for wearing, so he’s going to have to walk back to the bunkhouse shirtless, which is definitely not ideal but he refuses to be embarrassed. Of course, when Rueben lets out an ear-splitting wolf whistle, drawing attention he has no choice but to flip him the finger, but Jake has people. Well. His mom. She’s bringing him a change of clothes, and Bradley might like Aunty Kaye but he is not hanging around naked in bed. He’s also not accepting the offer for her to bring him clothes either, no matter how kindly the offer was made. Especially with how Jake’s apparently sensitive all over and it looks like Bradley left no stone unturned last night. Or this morning.

It’s still early, and while he’d have very much liked to spend the day in bed with Jake, it’s still a workday, the filming schedule tight and he’s meant to be on set in thirty minutes to oversee Rueben, Natasha and Jake carry out some corralling. He showers quickly, scrubbing himself clean and steps out to his phone ringing, toweling himself dry with one hand as he accepts the call.

“Hey Mav.”

“Bradley. Hi. You okay?”

“Yeah. Of course,” he says, pulling his underwear on with one hand, swapping over hands holding the phone so he can wiggle a little.

“Uh. Really?”

“Yeah. Really. Why?”

“Oh. Just. There are some photos circulating. Have you seen them?”

“Oh. You’re ringing about those. It’s fine. I don’t need to see the photos. I was there. It’s fine. Nothing we’re hiding.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh indeed,” Bradley says, and he knows Mav can probably hear his smile.

“He… he doesn’t drive you absolutely mad?”

Bradley laughs, because Jake doesn’t drive him mad at all, drives him to distraction maybe, but not mad. He puts the phone on speaker and sets it down, continuing to get dressed.

“Nope. Well, not in the way you’re thinking. He’s… God Pete. He’s sweet and caring and such a momma’s boy. His mom is his best friend she gives him absolute hell and he lets her.”

“Oh. Bradley. You are gone gone…”

“Yeah. I am gone gone,” Bradley agrees, because there is no point in denying it, and he’s pretty sure Jake already knows, and if he takes away Pete’s ammunition now he has less material to wind Bradley up with.

“Huh. Okay then. I’ll tell Ice to cancel the job.”

Bradley rolls his eyes.

“Don’t say shit like that. He’s not in the mob. Tell him to reign in whatever crazy plan you’re concocting. I’m fine.”

“Uh… well…”

“Mav? What crazy plan are you concocting?” Bradley asks, letting out a sigh.

“Nothing. Really. Just. We thought we’d come out for a visit.”

“No! I’m working. You don’t need to come and visit. I’m fine.”

“Okay. Well. How do you know it’s not a one-night stand?”

“Because we communicate Mav. Like adults. I know it’s a foreign concept for you.”

“Hey!”

“Also, pretty sure Jake doesn’t make his one-night stands have dinner with his parents the day before. And I met so many of his family last night I lost track…”

“But I haven’t met him!”

“Maverick! Pete. You worked with him for months!”

“I mean I haven’t met him as your… boyfriend.”

“You’re on a plane aren’t you,” Bradley states, realizing the truth of it as he says it and okay, at least Jake might feel like Bradley’s getting the better side of the bargain once he realizes how unhinged Mav can be when it comes to him. “Tell me you’re alone.”

“Well, there’s the pilot,” Mav says, totally deflecting and Bradley knows.

“Mav.”

“Well, you know how protective he gets!”

Fuckity fuck fuck Bradley thinks internally, because it’s one thing to have Pete Mitchell as a father figure, it’s totally another to have Tom Kazansky. And he’s already alluded to Jake that Pete has a partner, although he has no idea what phase of their relationship they might currently be in, with it waxing and waning as sure as the moon, but always there even when they weren’t together. And they’re both enroute here. Because of fucking course they are, although he knows Tom is only really coming to keep Maverick inline.

EIGHTEEN

#Hangster #Sereshaw #more than movie magic #Top Gun Maverick

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the-writer-nerd-ro · 4 months ago

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I'm way behind posting this but everybody enjoy the Lake Episode!!! No required reading but Marian and Maddox are Hunter's cousins and Petunia is a florist who works with the funeral home sometimes

The girls couldn't afford a beach episode so we're going to the lake

It was May and already oppressively hot, especially if you tended to wear dark-colored long-sleeved vintage dresses. Hunter kept ice pops stocked in the breakroom for the staff, but it wasn’t enough.

On the days her cousin Marian came and tended to the cemetery he decimated half a pack of ice pops on his own.

“It’s too hot,” Marian complained as he ate his third popsicle of the day.

“You’re telling me,” Hunter agreed, wiping her brow with her puffy sleeve.

“We should go out on my boat this weekend.”

Hunter stared at him. “You have a boat?!?”

“I didn’t tell you? One of my clients loved what I did with his yard so much he gave me a boat.”

“Your life is unreal. If I do a good job coordinating a funeral the most I get is a polite nod. Maybe a referral, if I’m lucky.”

Marian shrugged. “Rich people are crazy.”

“Do you even have a boating license?”

“Mm-hm. Sara’s invited too, obviously, and I think Maddox is coming. Morgan is at some writing workship.”

Hunter glanced at a floral arrangement on her desk.

“We should invite Petunia.”

Marian scrunched up his face, able, after a moment, to remember the two times he’d met the pretty florist.

“Okay, sure. Tell her she needs a fishing license if she wants to fish with me. I figured you and Sara would probably just want to swim. Maddox can do whatever.”

“Yeah, I don’t touch fish,” Hunter agreed. “You have fun though.”

“Oh, I will. Can I have another popsicle?”

“Knock yourself out.”

Hunter wasted no time filling Sara in on the impromptu weekend plans, as well as her ongoing matchmaking scheme.

“I’m in,” Sara agreed, “No tsure what I’m gonna wear, though.”

“I’m sure it will be exceptional. There’s no one in the world with a style like yours.”

“Aww, thanks babe. I can’t wait to see what you what you pick out, either.”

That was easy, Hunter had a very small pool of vintage swimsuits, so she put off outfit planning for later and focused on getting Petunia on board.

“I’m not sure, Hunter. I’m not much of a swimmer.”

“You don’t have to swim, you can hang out on the boat with Marian. It’ll be much cooler near the water, though.”

“Alright, if you're sure your cousin won’t mind.”

“He won’t, the more the merrier.”

There was, by the day of, one less than anticipated, though the crew wasn’t any less merry.

Sara and Hunter had hitched a ride with Petunia, who lived on the same side of the city as them, so they met up with Marian at the lake.

“Turns out Maddox just wanted a ride here, she’s going to a lake party with some of the people she’s attending college with next semester.”

“Genius,” Hunter commended.

Sara nodded in agreement but she was a little bummed she hadn’t heard about this party, her partydar was pretty good.

Marian smiled at Petunia, lifting his hand in a half wave. “Glad you could make it. Welcome to the Water Lily.”

“She’s beautiful,” Petunia said respectfully.

“Thanks, hope she floats,” Marian joked.

“You’re kidding, right?” Hunter asked.

“Yeah, of course I am. I might let you capsize but Sara and Petunia don’t deserve that.”

Hunter snorted.

“I’m glad you’d at least save my girlfriend from drowning.”

“Don’t worry, Hun, I’d dive to the bottom of the ocean to save you,” Sara promised.

Hunter knew Sara was serious about that, fortunately they didn’t live anywhere near the ocean.

“I like your swimsuit,” Petunia complimented, though it was unclear if she was talking to Hunter, whose vintage swimsuit was more like a navy blue dress than a swimsuit, or Sara, who wore bright orange swim trunks and a cherry covered bikini top and had covered the whole thing in a flowy, translucent pink cover-up.

“Thanks,” Hunter and Sara said in unison, not questioning it.

“You’re not going to swim?” Marian asked.

Petunia was wearing thigh-length overalls and a green shirt that said “Women Fear Me, Fish Want Me.”

“No, I prefer to fish.”

“Finally, someone with taste. Good idea about inviting her, Hunter.”

Petunia blushed, but the sun was hot and so the reddinging of her face went unnoticed.

“I packed Lunchables and Lays Stax for lunch, let’s get on the water before it gets crowded,” Marian said.

Sara cheered, throwing an arm around Hunter. “We’re going to have way more fun than Maddox.”

“Absolutely,” Hunter agreed, always down to one-up her youngest cousin.

They boarded the Water Lily and set off, eager to make the most of their Saturday.

Marian was deeply focused as he drove the boat to the perfect little fishing spot, so Hunter and Sara kept busy by chatting with Petunia and liberally applying sunscreen on each other. Hunter applied sunscreen to Sara like she was painting a masterpiece, and Sara applied sunscreen to Hunter like this was the first time she had ever touched her lover.

Once they were screened up, Hunter took a couple pictures and videos of Sara looking over the water. She hoped to get some pictures of Petunia and Marian later, in case she ever needed it for an engagement party slideshow.

She had lots of practice setting up Marian with rad ladies (before she’d met Sara, basically any girl she’d crushed on who turned out to be straight). Maybe this time he wouldn’t fumble it.

Marian was completely unaware of his cousin’s plans for his love life. If he’d been aware of her matchmaking misadventures, he would have attempted to put a stop to them years ago. Right now, all he cared about was catching some fish for dinner. What did it matter if Hunter was baiting a hook of her own?

Petunia was vaguely aware that this was a set-up. She knew what Hunter and Sara were like. And she knew that Hunter knew she only delivered flowers to the funeral home personally for a chance at seeing Marian. And for free ice-pops, but that wasn’t as big of a pull as Marian. It was silly, but he was exactly her type. He was cute, kind, and he cared about plants almost as much as she did.

And, in an exciting turn of events, it seemed they both liked fishing.

Sara and Hunter wasted no time giving the potential love birds some space, cannonballing into the lake and splashing around.

Marian moved to a seat next to Petunia and distributed the fishing poles.

“Let me know if you need any help with anything. Some people don’t like baiting their own hooks.”

By the time Marian had finished saying that, Petunia already had a nightcrawler on the end of her hook.

“Thanks, I might need help getting the fish off the line, I’ll let you know.”

Marian admired her confidence, it seemed like Petunia had no doubts she’d catch fish, it was only a matter of how many.

“It’s nice to meet someone else who likes fishing. My little sister Maddox used to be my fishing buddy, but now she’s too cool to do anything with me.”

“I’m not too cool,” Petunia blurted.

“Don’t sell yourself short. You seem pretty cool to me.”

Petunia took a swig of her water bottle so she didn’t start to overheat.

“I could say the same to you.”

Marian smiled a little but didn’t know how to respond, so he turned his attention to their bobbers in the water.

He was not at all surprised when Petunia got the first bite, reeling it in like a pro.

From the water Hunter and Sara cheered, confirming that their privacy was an illusion.

“Beautiful,” Marian said appreciatively, unhooking the fish and tossing it in the cooler.

“How do you cook your fish?” Petunia asked.

“I filet them, then I salt and flour the pieces and fry them in a skillet with crisco, or coconut oil if I’m trying to be healthy.”

“Mmm, sounds fantastic.”

“You’re welcome to join me. I mean, so far you’ve caught 100% of the fish.”

Petunia pretended to consider it for a while.

“Okay, on one condition.”

Marian raised an eyebrow. “And that is?”

“You let me make mac and cheese.”

“I think I can manage that.”

“My family would always serve mac and cheese with fried fish,” Petunia explained.

“That’s a good tradition.”

“Probably the best tradition they have.” Petunia had broken a couple of her family’s other traditions, but she loved and respected them enough to keep their cheesiest ones alive and well.

“Thanks for offering to share it with me.”

“Alright then, fried fish and mac and cheese. It’s a date.”

Marian looked flustered, trying to formulate a response when suddenly he felt a tug on his line.

He poured his focus into keeping that fish on the hook, grateful for a bit of a distraction.

By the time the second fish was in the cooler, it seemed unnecessary to address the date comment. If it was a date, he would make it a damn good one. And if it wasn’t a date, well, at least they’d have fried fish and macaroni and cheese.

Hiding slightly under the boat, Hunter took in these new developments with glee.

There was no way Marian could fumble this one, Petunia was laying it all on the table.

“I bet you a million dollars that they’re officially dating by the end of June,” she whispered to Sara.

“You don’t have a million dollars.”

“I bet you a million kisses.”

Sara pondered it for a second. “Hm. That’s going to be hard to count, but I accept your terms.”

In this particular bet, there weren't exactly any losers.

They splashed around for a little longer, content to float together in the coolness of the lake on an otherwise stuffy Saturday, before finally climbing back on the Water Lily for sunscreen and pizza Lunchables.

Marian and Petunia had caught several more fish by that point, and were talking like they were old friends. Hunter was certain, more than anything else, that she’d hit the mark with her latest matchmaking scheme. And Marian had fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker.

#sara pena #hunter richardson #sara x hunter #hunter x sara #drawfee fanfiction #drawfee #marian richardson #maddox richardson #petunia watts #this fic has been in the works for AGES

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ikeromantic · 1 year ago

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Entwined, Ch. 9

Part 9 of a multipart series. Mai has been reborn in the modern age after a full life in the Sengoku. The warlords as spirit animals find her again after 500 years of searching for her soul. Approx. 2700 words.

Part 1

Previous: Part 8

“Did you have a good chat with your friend?” Mai asked as they made their way down the beach. There were only a few people out and about. An old man sunning himself. A mom and her two children splashing in the surf. A one-eyed kitty sat on the nearby dock, tail swishing. They nearly had the whole beach all to themselves.

He gave her a sidelong look. “I did.”

“Thanks for the clothes, by the way. You didn’t need to buy all this for me.”

“Don’t worry about it. There is no other way I’d rather spend my money.” He gave her a warm smile. “I owe you for taking up your time this afternoon anyway.”

She shook her head. “No. No. I did need the break. And I haven’t been to the beach in awhile.”

Mitsuhide nodded instead of responding with one of his usual quips.

There was so much in his expression that she could not read. Mai wanted to ask him about his teasing earlier. About his conversation with Motonari. And what he knew of her headaches and the strange dreams that invaded even her waking hours. The words were there on the tip of her tongue, but she found herself unable to speak them. As if some fear held her silent. Fear, perhaps, of learning a truth she wasn’t ready to accept, or hearing a lie she could not stomach.

“Let’s swim,” she said instead. It was still a bit cool out to be in the water, but she didn’t care. A feeling of recklessness burst over her. A sudden desire to do something, anything. To move, even if that motion changed nothing about her situation.

“Alright, little mouse.” He ruffled her hair playfully, his humor back in full force.

They found a spot to set their things and changed in the nearby dressing rooms. Mai was tempted to put back on the white and gold bathing suit just to see if it had the same effect a second time around, but self preservation won out and she wore the blue one instead.

Mitsuhide was already waiting for her on a blanket spread over the sand. He was wearing a pair of loose swim trunks. They were white, with curling blue lines up the sides that emphasized how low they rode his hips. Her eyes were drawn to the line of soft, white-blond hair that led in a trail beneath his bellybutton to the waist band of the shorts.

Mai felt her mouth go dry at the sight. There was something intolerably sexy about the V of a man’s hips, and on Mitsuhide it was . . . delicious was the only word that came to her mind. She had to take a breath and make her heart calm down. This was not the way she was supposed to feel about a client - or a friend. And he had someone else, she reminded herself. He just liked to tease her.

He seemed to catch the look in her eyes as she saw him, and his smile grew wider. “Do you approve? I know I didn’t model for you at the shop, but I didn’t think I needed to. Men’s swim trunks are all the same, no?”

“No,” she said breathily and then coughed and said it again in a more normal tone. “The - the seams. The fit. Uhm.” Mai cleared her throat again. How did he have this effect? She saw countless men in their underwear during fittings and when taking measurements. And she’d had boyfriends. Not a lot, but enough to be immune to - to abs. And that pelvic V. And the delicate platinum hairs that caught the light. And that little freckle on his left hip . . .

“Uhm?” He laughed. “Technical sewing term?”

“Yep. Yeah.” Holy cats, she thought. This was entirely unfair. She wished she’d decided to come out in the white and gold suit, just to even things up.

“You look great in that one.” Mitsuhide gave her an appreciative look. “The blue suits you.”

“Mmm.” She noticed it matched the blue on his shorts. “It looks like we coordinated.”

“Oh? What a coincidence.”

The way he said it made her doubt that very much, but she decided not to make anything out of it. He was just teasing her again. Flirting. He probably acted like that with a lot of girls he worked with. Nothing special. Mai told herself that, and almost believed it. But even with those thoughts swirling in her mind, she couldn’t help but feel special as he took her hand and led her out into the surf.

The water wasn’t as cold as she’d expected it to be. A little cooler than the air, she thought, as it surged up her bare legs and splashed her thighs. She stumbled a bit as the tide pulled at her ankles.

“Careful little mouse. The currents can catch you if you aren’t paying attention.”

“I know. This is the same beach I used to come to with my parents. And I swim here sometimes with Asami and Kaiya.” She splashed him with her free hand, and he let go of her to splash her back.

“Cruel vixen. I wasn’t going to start a war with you, but now you’ve done it.” He laughed and sent a jet of water toward her from his fist.

Mai tried to dodge but ended up catching most of it on her chest. “Oooh I am going to get you for that!” She sent a wave of water at him, which he didn’t even try to dodge. The droplets beaded and ran down his skin like little sunlit gems. Which wasn’t fair, she thought. Water absolutely did not do that on her skin.

They kept the splash battle going until a wave got them both and knocked Mai completely into the water. Mitsuhide helped her up, chuckling as she spluttered. “In your state, I think it’s only fair to call a truce.”

“I accept,” she grinned, pushing her wet hair out of her face.

After that, they floated for a bit, and swam, and then sat on the beach and talked about silly things. Favorite movies and music and what kind of pet they would get if they could have any pet in the world.

“I’d get . . . a little mouse,” Mitsuhide grinned.

“Oh come on. Be serious! You could have any animal in the world and you would want a mouse?” She rolled her eyes. “I can tell you’re teasing me again. God, you are so evil!”

“Evil? Never.” He laughed. “You are just underestimating how adorable a mouse can be. Brave, even though her little heart is pounding in fear. Her eyes, big and wide and gentle, her pink little nose wiggling. And her soft little feet!”

“You know, I almost believe you.” Mai sighed.

Mitushide turned, stretching. He rolled his shoulders, the muscles of his back bunching and relaxing as they sent water droplets dancing down his skin. “So what about you,” he asked, looking at her over his shoulder.

Mai pulled her eyes away with some effort. “I - I don’t know. I’ve always thought koalas were cute but they sleep all the time. I guess I’d want a pet I can cuddle and play with. Like a red panda. Or a fox. They’re cute.”

“A fox, hm? And what would you do with your little fox pet, if you had one?” His smile looked somehow smug, as if he’d wanted her to give that answer.

“I don’t know. Take him for walks? Curl up with him in my lap and watch tv? Normal pet stuff.” She sighed. “I guess I should dream bigger. Like a bear or a tiger. Or a horse! I could ride him.”

“Overrated.” Mitsuhide sniffed. “Stick with the fox. You’ll have more fun. They are very playful animals.”

She laughed. “True.” Then Mai paused, a question bubbling out of her before she thought about it. “How did you know to make the marks you did? At the fitting?”

Mitsuhide shrugged. “Why is it so important to you?”

“Because those are - those are mine. I made them up in college so people couldn’t easily steal my designs. I’ve never taught them to anyone.” There was the tug again in her chest, insistent.

His eyes narrowed in thought. Mitsuhide replied with a flat tone, though his eyes shone. “I told you a master never reveals his secrets.”

“Oooh I should have known you wouldn’t be serious!” She growled in frustration. “Let me see if I can figure it out. Maybe . . . you studied them when I was doing the design and fittings for your play. That’s it, isn’t it?” It was the only thing that made sense to her, though Mai could not imagine someone putting in the time and effort to do so. And for what? So he could surprise her with it today? That was unhinged.

“I suppose that’s one theory.” He settled back, laying on the blanket to gaze up at the sky.

“You are infuriating.”

He grinned, his eyes closing. “Thank you, little one. I do try.”

Mai huffed and lay back on her towel. The warm sun felt glorious on her skin after the cold ocean water. She closed her eyes and let herself relax. Worries about her dreams - and daydreams - could wait. Maybe she would see a doctor about it, and they could tell her what was happening to her. Perfectly solvable. Later.

They lay like that for awhile, each lost in their own thoughts, close but not together. Almost, but not quite touching. A comfortable silence stretched between them for a time. Mitsuhide was the first to break it. “Tell me, little mouse. What is it that you want?”

“What?” Mai peered over at him. “That’s kind of a big question.”

He nodded, still laying with his eyes closed, expression unreadable. “Just in general. Lots of people want a career. Marriage. Kids. A nice house in a good part of town. So what is it you dream of?”

She wasn’t sure how he meant the question. Serious or teasing, playful or genuinely curious. But she took it seriously. “I used to think all I really wanted was to be a great clothing designer. To be respected in my field, make money . . . but . . . I kind of have that, for the most part.”

“And?” He prompted.

“It’s not everything I thought it would be? I mean, I still love making clothes. Taking an idea from design to completion and seeing the joy in my customer’s face is great. And I make enough to get by even if I’ll never be rich. It’s just, I think sometimes I do want something more.”

Mitsuhide turned his head to face her. “Like what?”

“Someone to share it with? I mean, I have friends and I’ve dated. It’s not like I’m a hermit.” Mai laughed. “I just think sometimes it would be nice to find someone that understands me and cares about me and . . . I guess I sound pretty pathetic, huh?”

“No.” He cleared his throat. “Not at all. I think that’s what most people want, even if they don’t admit it.”

She raised an eyebrow, “Even you, oh mysterious actor man?”

Mitsuhide grinned. “Even me.” He propped himself up on an elbow to face her. “Am I really so mysterious to you?”

“Absolutely.” She teased him and laughed again, but stopped as she noticed something melancholy in that golden gaze. “Sometimes I feel like I’ve known you forever,” she admitted, though she hadn’t meant to. “Not like . . . like anything weird. Just, when you’re around. It feels like you belong.”

He reached out, his fingers brushing her cheek in a caress too loving for a mere friend. Too familiar for any but a lover.

Mai felt something hot and electric tremble through her nerves at his touch. She held herself completely still, her lips closed tight, for fear she might lean into it or make a sound. Then his hand was gone and he was standing up, brushing the bits of sand and sea salt from his skin.

“We should get back. It will be dinner soon and I have to get ready.”

Whatever Mai felt, she thought it was pretty clear he didn’t. A bitter disappointment rushed in to fill the spaces of her chest that were warm only a moment ago. “Going on a date,” she sniped.

Mitsuhide’s usual grin fell a little and he shook his head. “No. Only one date a day for me.” He held out a hand and helped her up. “Just some industry people. The assistant to the regional cultural director, the mayor’s secretary. That kind of thing. Work related.” He shrugged.

“Oh.” She wasn’t sure how to react to that answer. She’d known he had some pull but those kinds of connections seemed beyond what your average actor would cultivate. Then it fully landed, what he’d said. One date a day. “Wait. Was this a date? Because -”

He laughed and tousled her hair. “What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.”

“Are you seriously quoting Shakespeare as an answer?” She tried to frown at him but his expression was so ridiculous. That wide, sharp smile and his eyes so full of a pretend innocence.

“If the bard said it first and better, I don’t know why I’d try to improve on the text.” He laughed. “Now are you going to help me pack up or am I carrying all this on my own?”

Mai gave him a sly grin. “Well, since this is a date, I suppose you’re on your own. Have to prove your manliness and all that.”

“Oh? Is it not well-proven already?” He skimmed a hand down his side and Mai couldn’t help the way her eyes tracked the movement. It wasn’t fair for him to be so pretty. So infuriatingly gorgeous. So . . .

She cleared her throat and forced her eyes up. “I’ll give you a point or two for that. But you should probably put on a shirt.” And then followed her own advice and put a cover-up on.

“The struggles of modern day masculinity. Alas.” He easily packed and hefted the bundle of stuff they’d bought for the day. “At one time, I would have slaughtered my way through enemy lines to rescue you. That would have been proof enough. But there just aren’t enough decent opponents these days. And modern law tends to frown on the whole killing thing.”

“And that’s a good thing.” Mai laughed as she led the way back to the car. The one-eyed cat was still sitting on the dock. It watched as they passed, tail swishing.

She did end up helping Mitsuhide load everything into the car. The drive back was short and pleasant, with Mitsuhide continuing to bemoan the modern state of manliness. Mai teased him and they both laughed. It felt good, she thought. Really good. The chemistry between them had her whole self humming, body and soul.

When they reached her flat, he walked her to the door, bags in hand. “So, little mouse? Shall we do this again sometime?” He smiled down at her, one arm braced behind her against the door. If he set his other hand on the brick, she’d be trapped between him and the building, which didn’t bother her as much as it should.

“Sure. But next time, let’s just plan it? That way it feels less like a kidnapping and more like hanging out with a friend.”

“Is that what today felt like?” He tilted his head toward her, his platinum blonde hair falling in his face. A strand of it brushed her cheek.

“Ah . . . I . . .” Her mind stuttered to a halt as he shifted closer. His breath tickled her cheek. She was sure he was about to kiss her. Her head tilted to match his, her lips pursed, her body leaning toward him.

Mitsuhide set her bag into her hands. “Have a good night, little one.”

“Y-you too?” She felt an almost physical weight of disappointment that he hadn’t kissed her. Or even tried to kiss her. Mai watched him drive off with a deep feeling of confusion. Had she misread him? Was he just teasing? Damn it.

As she walked upstairs, the one thing that she was certain about was that she’d wanted to kiss Mitsuhide. Which meant there was something she needed to do. She pulled out her phone and texted Hideyoshi.

Hey! Can we talk?

Chapter 10

#ikemen sengoku au #ikesen mitsuhide #mitsuhide akechi #fanfiction #fanfic #otome #otome guys #fluff

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moonchildstyles · 2 years ago

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thinking about all the cute gym pics harry takes :( and pretty mirror pics of his outfits that are hidden away in his camera roll :(( i’m so soft thinking of him sending them to you with a sweet smile poking through behind his phone:( older h is 100% a mirror pic honey like sending pretty girl pictures of him before one of their dates so she knows what colors to wear :( gravity h sending flower a cute mirror selfie with a little peace sign before class cause he liked his sweater :(((( .. back to the gym pics wah h leaving you in bed in the morning to go the gym and sending you a pic when you’re all whiny asking him where he is </3 ugh will sob if i think about this more

aster mirror pic… him at work……. tattoos……… pretty hair …. definitely sitting in his rolly stool man spreading

STOPPPPP YOU KNOW HE HAS SOOOO MANY PICS LIKE IT HURTS ME SO MUCH TO THINK ABOUT LIEK I NEED TO BE IN HIS LIFE IM ON MY KNEES I AM BEGGING HARRY PLEASE!!!!!!!

very obsessed w the idea of older h sending her pics tho so she knows what colors to wear if she wants to coordinate w him like that is SO :(((((( and he def gets a little like blushy at all of her reactions telling him how cute he looks like very "thats my man!!!!" vibes that make him very full hearted for her :(

ASHDFUSHDUS AND GRAVITY:(((( SENDING HER PICS BC HE LIKES HIS SWEATER:((((((( like def telling her he bought a new sweater and she asks to see it and shes expecting him to send just like a pic of the sweater but then its him in it like stop:((( his little sprout peaking over and his painted nails and his dimple :((((((((( a peace sign too like I have to marry him I do!!!!!!

BUT YOURE SO SICK:((((( him sending you a pic of him from the gym when you get all pouty asking where he is bc he left before you woke up and its just a pic in the mirror w his sprout and like you can tell hes been going at ut for a while cause hes a little sweaty and ugh im just :((((( baby daddy:(

but you are the most deranged for saying aster h would send her one from his tattoo stool.....long hair and black nails and MANSPREADING............ like maybe his client is running late so hes just a little grumpy texting her how bored he is and him sending that pic to her.....like you know she saves it and she likes it a little tooooooooOOOOO much but all she says back is "you look cute h!" but he knows her toooo well so theres a little "yeah? thanks angel" andusfhosuhfous idk maybe im in a mood but he somehow gets her to call him daddy just before he goes back to work and now shes just in a mood fr

#anon #ask #inspo #concept

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lunartearrose · 11 months ago

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Oc kiss week 2024 #2 - Rain

Ocs: Forage the Tiefling druid, Gwen the seamstress living doll.

Gwen belongs to Sammy, my DM! I don't think she has a public tumblr as i was not told it, but she is on discord. Didn't get permissions to tag or tell either way, just to use Gwen ^^;

World: DnD campaign(s) and maybe an extensive minecraft au i chuck a bunch of ocs into

Another drabble under the cut! Warning for typical dnd violence.

Whenever it rained, Gwen always thought of her boyfriend. And whenever he was away on hunter guild business, it always made her long for his return.

Tonight, it was one of those nights. The rain was pouring loudly against the walls of her boutique, a comforting and constant sound as she wrapped up her work for the night. In Particular, she had been commissioned for a beautiful wedding dress…

“Hey, so… I didn't want to bring this up earlier, but….” Harmony spoke up from the sidelines, using a pair of opera glasses to look at Gwen's tightly packed order list writing, “Didn't the client want a white dress? White with a dragon motif?”

Gwen paused, glancing at her work. “Well, they did. Did I make a mistake?”

“Well, for one, that's not pure white - it's an off-blue. But I guess it's subtle. The more interesting choices you have on that dress are the pearls and the coral. You're also definitely sewing eels instead of anything dragon-like.”

“I- well-” Gwen stammered, doing a once-over of the dress, “a subtle blue is often used to accent white and make it feel whiter - and I'm not done with what you're calling an eel! Just gotta add the scales and the. The head… and don't dragons like treasure?”

Harmony gazed at the dress through her pair of opera glasses. “Are Forage's shed coral antler-things a typical choice for dragons to hoard?”

Gwen sighed, shoulders slumping as she hid a blush. “...to me they are.” She muttered softly. “I'll fix it in the morning…”

“I'll get you up early so you can get it done without a rush.” Harmony replied.

Wrap-up continued, and Gwen inspected her spools of thread. The stuff she used for embroidering was almost out!

“Hey, do you think the supply shop is open still?” Gwen asked.

“Maybe the one in the hunter's guild.” Harmony answered, “If not that one, try to find Miranda's or something.”

Gwen frowned. “Miranda kinda scares me… I also don't think I want cursed thread, but I'll try the hunter's guild. Thank you.”

As Gwen put her coat on and grabbed an umbrella, Harmony called after her, “Keep to the populated streets. You know. The murders.”

“Y-yeah Harmony thank you Harmony”

With that, Gwen went to brave the storm. It was a heavier rainfall than she thought!

And with weather like that, barely anybody was on the streets. She was about half way to her destination when she realized this wasn't exactly safe. And the people that were there… weren't exactly minding their business.

She tried to pay it no mind, but more and more people were beginning to follow her. Take the same turns, move almost beside her… something was deeply wrong.

Seeing a flash of silver out of the corner of her eye, she quickly dodged out of the way of a dagger meant for her. She ran as fast as she could, as voices shout to each other, coordinating her downfall. She screams, but her voice is muffled by the rain.

She eventually slipped on the rainy ground, landing hard on the coral and rock cobbled ground. As blades of all kinds pointed her way, dripping with what was surely poison, she curled up, arms blocking her face in defense…

But then, strangely, she felt something. A dizzy sensation that messed with her sense of up and down, making her ears pop. As much as it made her hair stand on end, the sensation was familiar. She knew this power.

The blades never came down.

She found herself sitting on the surface of a puddle, now looking miles deep, to unknown depths. Several of the men carrying blades were entangled in tendrils that extended from the deep blue darkness, choking them even after their blades dropped, plunking into the darkness below. Soon to follow, the men were dragged down, a rush of bubbles the only signifiers of their screams for mercy.

One assailant had managed to avoid the deep pool, and attempted to string a bow as fast as their trembling hands should.

“WHERE ARE YOU, YOU MONSTER?!” the scared ranger shouted, “I SWEAR, IF YOU DON'T COME OUT, I'LL SHOOT HER!”

“Oh, but were you not planning to shoot anyway? Do not talk out of two sides of your mouth.” A sweetly cruel voice pierced the rainfall, clear as crystal waters.

The ranger spun while the druid talked, attempting their last-ditch effort - but in a blink, their body had been pierced by stalks of shimmering coral. There was no bloodfall - the stalks of coral greedily soaked up everything that was meant to fall, not a drop to spare for the ground.

“Watch your step. The coral still bites.” The druid giggled.

The ranger screamed in agony. Forage appeared from the stalks, his eyes cold as he surveyed his prey. In the heavy downpour, his hair wavered like tentacles, enjoying the soaking rain. Feeding off of it. His shark tail waved from side to side, and the fins beneath his ears perked at the sounds of fear.

“Now. Either you talk, or you die. What possible purpose could you have for attacking my dear Gwen? She'd never hurt a fly. Surely you were all about to strike the wrong person.” Forage asked.

“FUCK YOU!” the ranger screamed, pulling a leg off of a spike to kick Forage, “BOTH OF YOU GO TO HELL! DIE!”

Forage let their boot hit his wrist. In turn, the water clinging to it was heated to boiling by his Tiefling blood, cooking his enemy's injuries for good measure. He smiled, teeth pointy like a shark's.

“Die it is, then. I am certain the guild must've caught plenty of your ilk by now. Your sob story does not interest me in the slightest. You hurt Gwen, after all.”

With that, the coral grew wildly, engulfing the ranger, crushing, spearing, sucking the life from them until all that remained were the horribly beautiful stalks, glowing softly in the rain. Slowly, the coral began to grow down and away, flattening itself to seep back into the cracks of the cobblestone and filling any gaps.

“Forage…” Gwen spoke. She was shaking, wondering if this was real, or if she hit her head when she fell.

The purple tiefling spun around to face her, the coldness washing away with the heavy rain. “Gwen! Are you alright?! That cut was not deep, was it?”

He was quickly by her side, wrapping up her arm with some bandages. He's really, real… and… he really, really went crazy on those guys for trying to hurt her!

“I am sorry, I was not careful with my spell slots - I do not think I have the juice to do much healing. Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“I-I’m alright… j-just help me up…” Gwen replied.

Quickly, Forage did just that, hugging her tightly. At that time, she noticed the state of his clothes.

“Did a pack of wolves tear you up before you got into town?” Gwen asked.

“Well… I did end up having a… well… scylla moment again. Hence the quick cover up with my ripped coat. But it was only briefly! That's why I was able to grab all those jerks at once.” Forage explained, ears drooping a bit. “I-I didn't scare you, did I? I think my brain would explode if I hurt you…”

“Nono, you didn't attack me at all.” Gwen explained, “I'm just… gosh, it really is you. I really missed you.”

“Okay, I'm glad. I missed you too, Gwen…”

At this, she glanced up, still hugging him tight. Even after ten years, He still took her breath away… with his cute looks, and mesmerizing eyes… and oh, what a gleaming smile…

“Right! What am I thinking… I owe you one of these, right?” Forage smiled. He leaned in close and whispered, “A kiss has its own healing magic, right?”

Not even pausing to agree, Gwen quickly pulled him in for that kiss. They held each other closely for a long while, giggling and kissing, over and over. They were soaked by the end, but neither cared at this point.

Or well, Forage worried over Gwen's state! Her body was stitched, wasn't it?!

“Shoot! We should get home, shouldn't we? I do not want you to catch a cold or anything!” Forage said, glancing up at the sky. “The rain will not stop until tomorrow. The ground's been begging for it.”

“Oh, yeah, sure. Uh, where did I put my umbrella…?” Gwen said, glancing around.

Forage perked up for a moment, running to grab his staff from where he had left it on the ground. From the orb in the middle, a tentacle emerged, offering up the missing umbrella.

“There it is!” Forage said with a smile.

Gwen gently took it. “Thank you, octopus.” She said.

With that, the two walked home together, Gwen under the umbrella while Forage held her hand, getting soaked without a care, as he liked to be. They got through the doorway and Forage took the time to help her dry off, joyously talking about his trip back home.

“Oh, hey.” Harmony greeted the two from by the stairwell. “You get your thread, Gwen?”

Gwen paused… and then facepalmed. Forage gently patted her shoulder, and promised he would get some for her early tomorrow.

#ockiss24 #oc kiss week #forage (oc)#forage the tiefling #gwen (oc)#rain #artists on tumblr

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dream-meister-translations · 2 years ago

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MEL CHARACTER CARD #2

━

Not long after the jewellery incident…

MEL : Hey, Volks, who made this tea? It doesn't taste good at all…

EMMA : Oh, that was me…

EMMA : (I made it for myself, not you…)

MEL : The steeping method is all wrong. How can you take pride in brewing a cup of tea like this?

MEL : And those flowers don't match at all!

MEL : The colors clash with the furniture! They're so ugly and worthless, why not just throw them away?

EMMA : (Those are the flowers the laborers bought us…)

EMMA : Mel, we plan to place those flowers on proper display at a later date.

VOLKS : Well, how about this?

EMMA : Huh?

Volks takes the flowers and moves them beside the staircase.

VOLKS : If we put them here, won't they harmonize with the room and look festive while doing so?

MEL : But that's beside the point. The flowers are all wrong to begin with!

Come to think of it, Mel's always like this around Volks. Always finding something to criticize…

━

Then one day at lunch…

MEL : Mmm, mmh… What in the world is wrong with that chef's nose? They went completely overboard with the spices.

EMMA : Yeah? I heard they have a reputation for spicy food.

MEL : It's absolute ludicrous that people praise them for this kind of thing. I don't know how anyone goes out of their way to eat here…

EMMA : Mel. You're way out of line.

VOLKS : Hmmm… Indeed the spicy aroma in the air is incredibly strong.

VOLKS : For someone with such keen senses, it's only understandable they make you uncomfortable…

MEL : Hah! See, Master, I told you, didn't I? There's something wrong with the kind of freaks who enjoy this trash!

VOLKS : That said, Mel… One's preference for a food's taste or aroma varies from person to person. No matter how worthless you find them...

VOLKS : Not everyone agrees with you, you know that, right? Take myself and Emma for example…

MEL : Huh? Ugh…

EMMA : I'm… Sorry for getting so mad at you, Mel. I've been trying to be more like Volks since the last time you guys had an argument like this…

VOLKS : You don't need to apologize, Emma. Such a rebuke can be an important factor in one's growth.

VOLKS : Hm… In that case…

VOLKS : If you're feeling the same way, then I will redouble my efforts to refine him.

EMMA : ………..?

━

One day, after another such exchange…

VOLKS : We've received a request from Gloria, the land of majesty and power. They wish for the Dream Weavers to coordinate an event for the Princess debutante.

EMMA : Debutante…? So its a party to celebrate her public debut?

VOLKS : Yes. And as per the client's wishes, it must be perfect in every way.

VOLKS : So, I wanted to ask… Emma, you're a girl, and Mel's incredibly insightful. …What do guys think?

MEL : Hah! They want it to be perfect? Pity, you don't know the meaning of the word!

EMMA : (Mel's looking even more upturned than usual today…)

MEL : Heh, heh… But, oh well? If you say you need me, I'm powerless to stop you. So what can I do for you?

VOLKS : Thank you for your help, Mel… Now then, let's begin…

VOLKS : To start with, I've prepared a sample dress for her to wear at the big event.

EMMA : Wow! It's stylish and fresh! It's perfect for a girl's public debut!

MEL : Hmmm… Maybe for your average girl, but you're kidding yourself if you think it's the kind of thing a princess would wear…

MEL : Of course, it's perfect if you're looking to blend in with the crowd, but it simply has no impact at all. The princess would have to be super plain and super boring to wear a dress like that!

EMMA : (Harsh as always, it seems…)

VOLKS : Your opinions of the princess aside, I appreciate your honesty. Did you have any other concerns?

MEL : Of course I do! Let's just start from the bottom and I'll tell you everything you did wrong, okay? Let's start with…

Mel began listing off one scathing remark after another, criticizing everything he laid his eyes on. But even still, Volks simply listened to every last one of Mel's criticisms with unwavering satisfaction, smiling all the while.

#Yumekuro #YMKR #Yumekuro Translations #YMKR translations #Otome #Dream Meister Translations #Otome Translations #Dream Meister And The Recollected Black Fairy #Yumekuro Mel #YMKR Mel #Mel #Yumekuro Volks #YMKR Volks #Volks

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mesillusionssousecstasy · 2 years ago

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The Idol 1x01: Quotes

“- But what is the image saying? (Xander) - That she’s young, beautiful, and damaged. (Nikki) - Sh... - Eh, not damaged. She had problems that she overcame beautifully. (Nikki) - O-Okay. Uh, the robe, the hospital wristband. (Xander) - Mm-hmm. - I mean, are we romanticizing mental illness? (Xander) - Absolutely. (Nikki) - And you’re fine with that? That’s cool? (Xander) - You people are so out of touch. (Nikki) - You people? (Xander) - You college-educated internet people. (Nikki) - Okay, yeah. You’re criticizing me for going to college. (Xander) - Oh, will you let people enjoy sex, drugs, and hot girls, okay? Stop trying to cock-block America. (Nikki) - No, Nikki, I’m not some sort of prude. I just don’t think that with everything that she has been through, she should be wearing a hospital wristband. (Xander) - Mental illness is sex. (Nikki) - No, it’s not. (Xander) - Yeah. If you live in Sioux City, Iowa, you are never gonna meet a girl like Jocelyn. She’s not walking down the street, she didn’t got to your high school, she doesn’t work at the bar or the diner, and she did not marry your best friend. And if, on the off chance, she did, she is still never, ever gonna fuck you. Unless, she has some very, very serious mental problems. And that right there is why mental illness is sexy.” (Nikki)

“- According to the nudity rider, we only can show the side boob, the under boob, and the side flank. (the intimacy coordinator) - I didn’t ask. She did it. (the photograph) - Okay, so I’m not allowed to show my body? (Jocelyn) - Not in the general, like, human rights structure of it all. (the intimacy coordinator) - You realize how fucking annoying and insane that sounds? (Xander) - It’s actually very progressive. It’s to make sure she doesn’t feel pressured. (the intimacy coordinator) - Right. I don’t feel pressured. (Jocelyn) - Fully respect that. (the intimacy coordinator) - This is her album cover. (Xander) - It’s also my boob and my house. (Jocelyn) - Fully respect body autonomy.” (the intimacy coordinator)

- “Hey! You! Come here! You want $ 5′000? You keep this door shut for the next three hours. Hold it. You gotta hold it really hard. (Chaim) - Who’s in here? (a guy) - All right? None of your business. Just take it or leave it, yes? Yeah? Okay, good. (Chaim) - Yeah, yeah.” (a guy)

“- No one’s having a pschotic... Let’s all calm down. (Benjamin) - Yeah, please.(Chaim) - Deep breath. Kay. I’m gonna give some information. I need it to be received peacefully, calmly. Okay? We’re the number one trending topic on Twitter. (Benjamin) - Okay. All right. (Nikki) - It’s not... (Benjamin) - No. I find out who did this. May God have mercy on their fucked up, depraved soul. Okay?” (Chaim)

“- It’s gotta say, it’s gotta say “revenge porn”. It’s gotta say “revenge porn” or they’re not gonna take it down (on the phone). - Andrew Finkelstein (at the gate). - Do you have ID? (security guard) - No, I’m from Live Nation. I’ve been here many, many times. (Andrew) - That’s great. Do you have ID? (security guard) - No, I don’t fucking have ID! (Andrew) - There’s a lotta people here today. We can’t let anyone in without an ID. (security guard) - Jesus fucking... Okay, let me deal with this fuckin’jabroni. Hang on. I’m gonna Google myself. Here, watch this. Ready? “Andrew Finkelstein, Live Nation”. What? Whoa! Who’s that? Huh? See that punim? See this face? See that face? Wow, they’re similar. (Andrew) - Okay, okay, sir, calm down. You don’t have to be so rude about it. I’ll get this figured out, okay? (security guard) - Yeah, I don’t have to be so rude. You know, my fucking star client has face full of cum. I’m not rude. (Andrew) - Mr. Finkelstein. So sorry for the inconvenience. (security guard) - Now you’re sorry. Thank you. (Andrew) - Right this way. (security guard) - You’re mensch. Wonderful fucking service.” (Andrew)

“- Lock him in a closet, too? (Destiny) - Remind me to let that guy out at some point, but not yet. (Chaim)

“- You know, you worry too much. Just relax. (Chaim) - I worry too much. My shareholders think I worry too little. You know, every time I fuckin’ breathe in and out, I hemorrhage money for Christ’s sake.” (Andrew)

“- Oh, there’s no shame in being a slut, case in point. I’m just worried she’s having another psychotic break. (Andrew) - No, no, she never had a psychotic break. Never had one. She was just exhausted and she was tired. (Destiny) - She’s a trouper. She reminds me of myself at that age. Okay, the thought of you younger is terrifying to me. (Benjamin) - I was having fun. I was getting fucked in the ass of the Capital Records building stairwell and then walking straight into meetings. (Nikki) - Yeah, I remember. I was the one fucking you. (Andrew) - Jesus Christ! (Benjamin) - Learn form the best. (Andrew) - Can I just remind everybody that we have “Vanity Fair” with us today? So, if we could just... keep the shit-talk to a... (Benjamin) - Oh, my God! Having her around is like living in communist China. (Nikki) - Benjamin, did you get the revised statement from Holly? (Andrew) - Revenge porn? (Benjamin) - Yeah, exactly that. Make sure that every dipshit with a keyboard has it spoon-fed down their fuckin’throat. (Andrew) - But it’s true? (Benjamin) - Well, if we say it it. (Andrew) - I’m in a “Twilight Zone” episode. (Benjamin) - All right, people. (Andrew) - Okay, see you later. (Nikki) - We live to fight another day.” (Andrew)

“- Tomorrow, I wanna wake up to, uh, like, 150 Google Alerts telling me Jocelyn’s some kind of feminist hero, right? (Nikki). - Okay. Yeah, me too. (Benjamin) - You can do that. (Nikki) - But I’m gonna start with victim and move up from there. (Benjamin) - Yeah well, it’s the same difference. (Nikki) - I don’t understand anything. How could it possibly be any fucking worse? Just tell me a scandal that was worse, recently! (Chaim - we don’t want to know). - She’s coming out of it more famous than when she came in. And that’s! That’s the win. Let’s just put it that way.” (Benjamin)

- “Ah, you’re dangerous. I mean, how could anyone not fall in love with you? (Tedros) - I don’t even know you. (Jocelyn) - You fit perfectly in my arms.” (Tedros)

- “What a fuckin’ boner killer. (Tedros) - I know, she prevented us from starting our family. (Jocelyn) - (...) and I hate it, and you’re gonna hate it, too. (Jocelyn) - You hate it? How can you put out something you hate? (Tedros) - Well, you obviously don’t work in the music industry. Pop music is just... superficial. (Jocelyn) - I think Prince would disagree with you. (Tedros) - I love Prince. (Jocelyn) - Are you gonna call “When Doves Cry” fuckin’ superficial? (Tedros) - No, I love that song. (Jocelyn) - If that song came out today, it’d be a smash tomorrow. (Tedros) - So, all I have to do is make music like Prince? (Jocelyn) - I didn’t say that. (Tedros) - Easy. I’ll just do that. (Jocelyn) - No... I didn’t say that. (Tedros) - Why didn’t I think of that? (Jocelyn) - You can’t make music like Prince. Pop music is like the ultimate Trojan Horse. Ya get people to dance, ya get people to sing along. Could say whatever you want. Shit’s powerful. (Tedros) - I like you. (Jocelyn) - I like you, too. You got the best job in the world. Should be having way more fun. (Tedros) - I’m trying.” (Jocelyn) While playing “Pieces of Your Heart” by Meduza & Goodboys)

“- Did it hurt? That photo? The betrayal of it? (Talia from Vanity Fair) - Of course. But, I mean, what am I supposed to do? (Jocelyn) - I don’t know. Fuck up the guy that did it to you. (Talia) - Like in the piece you’re writing? (Jocelyn) - Yeah, actually. I think it would be inspirational for young women and girls all around the world who have been targeted and humiliated in the way you were. (Talia) - Revenge is empowerment? (Jocelyn) - It’s human, I think. (Talia) - Look, I mean. I think... five years ago when people would tell me that it was important to comment on something publicly, I would buy into it. But now I just know that I’m being hustled. (Jocelyn) - Yeah, I mean, obviously, my editor is breathing down my neck, gun to my back, trying to get me to get you to talk about this photo. It’s all anyone can talk about. (Talia) - I get it. We all have to answer to somebody. (Jocelyn) - Who do you answer to? (Talia) - God.” (Jocelyn - Wrong, the public opinion).

“- I don’t know. I haven’t done anything in, like, a year. And I just feel like people are, like, waiting for me to fail. And I just don’t wanna, like prove them right. (Jocelyn) - Yeah, but, Joss, you always do this. You always second-guess yourself right before something comes out. You’re just gonna drive yourself crazy. (Leia) - I just don’t wanna, like, make a fool of myself. I don’t want people to, like, make fun of me. (Jocelyn) - They are not. Trust me. It’s good. It’s, like, really good. (Leia) - (....) What’s wrong with him? (Jocelyn) - He’s so rape-y. (Leia) - Yeah, I kinda like that about him. (Jocelyn) - Joss... No. Gross. So disturbing.” (Leia)

“- Hello, Angel. (Tedros) - You call all the girls Angel? (Jocelyn) - Just you. (Tedros) - Yeah right. (Jocelyn) - Fuck’s up with her? She doesn’t wanna hang out with us? (Tedros) - She’s my assistant. And my best friend. (Jocelyn) - She’s your best friend and your assistant? (Tedros) - Yeah. (Jocelyn) - She’s your best friend that words for you? (Tedros) - Yeah, isn’t that nice? (Tedros) - Really? Hm. (Jocelyn) - Don’t you think that’s kinda, like a nice arrangement? Oh, for her it’s amazing. Fuck. Can I be your best friend? I’d love to get paid. (Tedros) - Can I play you my new song? (Jocelyn) - Are you desperate to put this specific song out? (Tedros) - No, I’m not desperate to put anything out, my team is. ‘Cause everyone in my life is, like, telling me that it’s really great, but I don’t believe them. (Jocelyn) - Why? (Tedros) - ‘Cause when you’re famous, everyone lies to you. (Jocelyn) - And you trust me? (Tedros) - I just think you’re enough of an asshole that you might tell me the truth. (Jocelyn) - Cheers to that. (Tedros) - I don’t know. I feel like it’s, like, too superficial or something. (Jocelyn) - (...) If you’re gonna sing a song called “I’m a Freak” you should at least sing it like you know how to fuck. You gotta stop carin’ what people think. You are too locked up in your head. (Tedros) - Yeah? (Jocelyn) - Yeah, you’re thinking too much. You need to block out the world. Feel it. Do you trust me? (Tedros) - No. (Jocelyn - Good reply!)

#the idol #hbo #hbo the idol #hbo series #the idol 1x01 #the idol 1x01 quotes #the idol quotes #jocelyn x tedros #the idol thoughts

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goodgrammaritan · 1 year ago

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My personal favorite is season 3. Minus how they treated Aneesa. She got shit from every partner. And she and Fab were cute and had chemistry. I wish they'd stayed together.

But I also love season 2. Not only is that Ben/Devi stuff great, but there are so many emotionally resonant moments with Nalini and Devi, like Nalini calling Devi crazy, but then their resolution.

And Paxton is reeling from the loss of swimming. He doesn't know what to do. So first he coasts and uses Devi, but then he gets motivated to try (partially inspired by none other than Ben). It's a little rushed, sure, but it sets the stage for him doing well and applying to colleges in season 3.

Kamala's lab plot is a great device for demonstrating that chemistry (no pun intended) and similar interests (Jimmy Kimmel) aren't enough for Prashant and Kamala to have a healthy relationship. Good for Kamala for standing up for herself in the lab, and also for realizing that Prashant's advice was bad and wrong.

Nirmala gets introduced in this season! She's a compassionate parent for Nalini, though moving in together is not without its growing pains. And her involvement with Kamala's presumed engagement sets up their season 3 arc, probably the best plotline for both of them.

The Fabiola, Eve, and Sasha stuff is important. Not necessarily because of their relationship or the Cricket Queen stuff, but because Fabiola is learning what it is to be a lesbian. Sasha is very gatekeeping, thinks there's only one way for lesbians to be, and Fabiola doesn't fit that. (Maybe also Sasha is jealous? Has a crush on Eve?) And Fabiola tries to fit in, to be that lesbian, because she's new to being out and, in typical Fabiola fashion, wants to get it right. It's not until the last episode, her talk with Devi, Eleanor, and Jonah, that she realizes the way to be a lesbian is just to be herself. As Devi points out, all that's required to be a lesbian is liking women. And Eve is sweet, but does not defend Fabiola to Sasha enough. I think she definitely likes Fab a lot, but gets carried away with being Cricket Queens, and doesn't focus on Fab's feelings.

Eleanor...yeah, Malcolm is cartoonishly evil, but it's totally believable that a teenage girl will ignore her friends' advice for a celebrity crush. No, it's not mature, but I do like that it allows Eleanor to bond with Sharon, her sweet stepmom.

And I love Aneesa. She is in many ways what Devi wants to be: popular, yet also someone to make Indian moms proud. Hot, confident, coordinated...but also a fully rounded character. And she makes Devi confront herself at her worst. (But then, Devi gets development with Nalini when Nalini convinces Aneesa's mom not to make her change schools. It's a great Devi/Nalini moment.)

Oh, and why does Nalini do this? A talk with Chris, where he suggests just saying yes when your kid asks you for help. He's a good guy: he admires Nalini, but also won't take any shit (the client list stuff). They're colleagues, and while the timing isn't right, I think they were good for each other.

And Devi in therapy. The whole "you feel a lot, so you'll hurt a lot" session. I weep every time.

Overall, season 2 gets me emotional in ways season 4 doesn't. I liked the first and last episodes of season 4, and Devi's college admittance trials, and Fabiola's tension with Devi re: Princeton, where Devi realizes that Fab being scared to tell her about being accepted is a flaw in their friendship. But other than that...

I wish Paxton hadn't come back. That was such a dumb plot, a very 90s/early 2000s trope where no character ever leaves. If he was going to be in the season, I'd have preferred him not to be a teacher. That was just asinine. And it undoes the closure, the being a dream, the lack of stomach knots.

And then Devi and Nalini regressed to a season 1/2 relationship. All their progress in season 3, Nalini's utter smackdown of Rhyah in defense of Devi, and her reassurance that Devi is always enough, and never too much.

And Margot's dad. He's... there, I guess.

And Kamala has nothing to do. She did her big, "I'm a grownup, I'm moving out, I'm not doing an arranged marriage" plot in season 3, so in season 4 she's reduced to investigating Len and hiding under tables.

Basically, did season 4 make me cry? Maybe two tears. It just didn't hit as hard. I still enjoyed it, but it didn't hit me.

what do you think are the best and worst nhie seasons?

Hmm… IMO, the best is probably a tie between the third and fourth seasons. I love them for differenr reasons. The worst is by far season 2. Other than the stuff with Ben, almost nothing about that season worked. Devi’s motivations for acting, well, crazy, being explained very late into the season. Kamala’s cartoonish science plot. Nalini and what’s his face. Paxton’s tedious and underdeveloped crap, despite the screen time. Fabiola, Eve, and that annoying friend Sasha. Eleanor and Malcolm. God… at least the Ben stuff was really good.

#never have i ever #devi vishwakumar #ben gross #season analysis

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cinebration · 3 years ago

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She Vexes (Alfie Solomons x Reader) [Request]

Ohhh I would love a Alfie Solomons being flustered around the girl he fancy's and Ollie finding it very amusing. He doesn't know what is wrong with himself. He can't bring himself to let her know he likes her but he gets there in the end ☺️💞—Requested by anon

Warnings: none

Gif Source: thesoldiersminute

Alfie did not mumble as a rule. That is, he mumbled when it served it, when it forced his audience to lean in to hear him or to lose their way among his meandering words—all, you understand, carefully coordinated tactics designed for whatever purpose Alfie required.

He did not mumble because he didn’t know what to say. Alfie always knew what to say.

It came as a shock to him, then, when he found himself unable to form the coherent incoherent sentences he was known for when in your presence.

“She’s a witch,” he groused one late evening, sitting at his desk without seeing any of the papers spread out before him.

Ollie glanced up at him. “Who is?”

“The woman.”

“The woman?” Ollie frowned. “Is this like that Sherlock Holmes story?”

Alfie lifted his gaze to his subordinate. “Honestly, boy, if you don’t have anything worthwhile to contribute, do not open your fuckin’ mouth.”

Ollie for once returned the stare and did not flinch away. “The woman in the story was perhaps the only woman who could vex Sherlock Holmes. Are you saying the woman you’re talking about isn’t the same?”

Alfie glared at him. Leave it to the wet-eared child to actually have a point. “I am not vexed.”

“You called her a witch.”

“That does not mean vexed.”

“No, sir, I suppose it means hexed.”

Alfie rocked back in his chair, fixing Ollie with an even fiercer stare, his brow creasing heavily. The boy had yet another point, but Alfie did not feel as though it merited easy acknowledgement or even an earned acquiescence to it. Instead, he stroked his beard, trying to avoid he implication of Ollie’s words.

“A hex to tie the tongue,” he said instead. “How else to explain my muteness?”

“I suppose—”

“That wasn’t a question for you to answer, was it?”

Ollie fell silent, a faint smile playing on his lips. Alfie wanted to tear it off the young man’s face, but to do so would only prove the boy’s point.

Damn him that he could see the truth plainer than Alfie.

“I suppose I’ll be needing some of the Shelby’s magic, yeah? To get rid of this hex?”

“Or,” Ollie suggested quietly, carefully, “you could ask her what’s tripping up your tongue.”

Alfie glared at him. “And what would that be?”

The young man shrugged. “What do men want from women?”

You served as a typist for Alfie’s financial advisor. The man did not make it publicly known that he employed one, but he couldn’t be expected to know everything all at once. It had been a few weeks since you had begun working for his advisor, and since first meeting you, Alfie had been making his appearance at the offices more frequent.

That evening, however, he loitered out in the street to wait for you to finish working for the day. He did not wish for his advisor to overhear him when he approached you.

Shortly before six, you stepped out of the double doors and entered the street.

Alfie detached himself from the car parked on the curb and hailed you down with a “Miss” and a gesture with his cane.

You frowned, surprised to see him, but approached him nevertheless, a perplexed smile pulling on the corners of your mouth. “Good evening, Mr. Solomons.”

“Outside the office, you can call me Alfie, yeah?”

Stifling an awkward chuff, you nodded. “Certainly. What can I do for you?”

Alfie cleared his throat and glanced up and down the busy avenue. He wasn’t much known in this neighborhood, aside from being a client of the financial advisor. His reputation had not yet reached this part of the city, and for that he was grateful. Few of the people passing by spared him a second glance. Rumor, therefore, would not yet make its way through the city.

“See, I’ve not done this in a long while,” he began, not quite looking at you. “Maybe I’ve never done, I can’t dredge it up out of my memories, yeah? Unreliable thing, that is, memory. How often do we remember the things we really want to remember? Not as often as we’d like.”

You stared at him. Risking a glance at you, Alfie wasn’t sure it was because you were captivated.

Clearing his throat again, he continue, “You’re vexing, yeah? I’d call you a witch, but I don’t much think you’d appreciate that, but the fact remains, love, that you’ve either gone and cursed me or hexed me or laid some unholy thing about me to ensnare me.”

One eyebrow arched high on your forehead.

“Now, I’m not one to turn away from danger, right? If I aim to be a danger, I must confront it in all forms. Otherwise I am no better than some young prat running around on these filthy streets, yeah? And you, love, are dangerous, and I won’t lie if I don’t say that I don’t find it an interesting challenge.”

The second eyebrow followed the first.

“Right, what I’m trying to say, yeah, is that if I’m a man who walks with danger, then I can’t go avoiding it when it comes. So if I am even slightly afraid, then I have to meet it directly. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Alfie lifted his attention to your gaze. Amusement danced in your pupils, the faint smile still on your lips despite the arched eyebrows. “Are you asking me to dinner and dancing?”

Alfie stared at you. “Did I say dinner and dancing?”

“No, but that’s what I’m asking.”

A laugh nearly tore from his throat. “Mercenary.”

“You did say I was dangerous.”

“I did, yeah.”

“Are you free this evening?”

Alfie shifted on his feet, unsure when the reins had been passed into your hands. He nodded nevertheless, trying not to let his tongue trip him up again.

“Then I would be happy to join you for dinner.”

“And dancing?”

“And dancing.”

#Alfie Solomons x Reader #Alfie Solomons #Alfie Solomons imagine #Tom Hardy x Reader #Tom Hardy #Tom Hardy imagine #Peaky Blinders #requests

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devildomwriter · 3 years ago

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You Go Shopping For Baby Clothes Together | Asmodeus x Reader

Shopping for baby clothes was supposed to be super exciting, but you were more panicked than anything at the idea of Asmodeus going overboard and coordinating the outfits for the baby's future while still in the store.

You were a month away from giving birth and couldn't put it off anymore.

The room had been completely decorated with flowers and sparkles everywhere, and Asmo was over the moon learning you were having a little girl he could put in dresses.

You knew he'd have put his son in dresses too, so you weren't sure why he seemed extra excited in this scenario.

Asmo mentioned not being able to stand an empty wardrobe for another second, and as soon as you finished breakfast, he dragged you to a luxury store that had baby outfits worth thousands.

"Our girl doesn't need a prom dress the moment she's born," you exclaimed, looking around you.

"Hm? Oh, don't worry, MC, these are for kids more than a few months. For now, we'll get ones exactly for her age group. Once she grows a little, I'll know more what style will suit her best, and we can come back and buy more clothes then!" He squealed and began looking through the sparkling racks.

A store attendant came over to help you and was excited to see Asmo and much less excited to see you.

"Asmodeus," she greeted, "our best client! How can we help you today?"

"I'm afraid today I won't be needing any help, dear. I'm looking for cute outfits for my newborn!" He squealed, and the attendant pretended to be just as excited as you shuffled behind them, pushing the shopping cart as things began flying from the shelves into the basket.

"Hey, Asmo, do we really need this much?" You questioned, and he nodded but paused upon seeing you look distraught.

He waved the attendant away and held your hands tightly.

"Are you alright, MC?" he asked nervously.

"Yeah, I'm just tired..." you sighed, and he nodded, smiling sadly.

"Don't worry, dear, we can take a nap when we get home, and you'll feel much better knowing we won't have anything left to shop for. Now then, how about you help me find some clothes?"

"Are you sure you want my fashion advice?" You asked sarcastically, and he giggled.

"The baby is half of you too; she should share some of her mother's style too, shouldn't she?" You grinned and pointed at the rack of plaid jackets, and he hid his disappointment well as he helped you to the rack.

"This red one looks just like mine," you smiled and frowned upon seeing the buttons on the back as well as the front.

"Couldn't this thing just come apart with buttons like this?" You asked, undoing them.

Asmo chuckled and took the jacket from you, gently putting it into the cart.

"Those buttons are for wings, dear; it's not a fashion statement."

"Wings Huh...do we need little gloves made for wings or something?" You asked, concerned that you hadn't already thought of this.

Asmo chuckled and patted your head soothingly.

"Don't worry, dear; our little draconian girl won't get cold so easily. Besides, she'll be all nice and cozy swaddled in her blanket with her mommy and daddy, won't she?"

You grinned and nodded.

"Do they have wing accessories, though?"

Asmo chuckled and nodded, "yes, they do. Let's go look at them."

#obey me shall we date #obey me drabble #obey me scenarios #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmodeus x reader #tw pregnancy #obey me second generation

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hozierandco · 3 years ago

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Henry Cavill x Reader / Lessons / SMUT

A/N: Henry has to learn how to play golf for a film but his teacher may teach him a bit more than golf. In which Henry is a clumsy cinnamon roll. Inuendos intended, sorry not sorry. SMUT: oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex, teasing, cursing, cumshot. Read at your own risk.

For the sake of a film in which he would play an aristocrat, Henry had to know how to play golf. He had agreed to it though he never had one single piece of knowledge on the matter.

Him who had done life-endangering stunts was not going to abandon for golf. He had three weeks before the beginning of the set and had decided to spend his holidays at a golf resort off in Scotland where he was determined to master the skills to that sport.

Y/N had been working at the Baurheid Club for the past five summers. The rest of the year, she lived in Glasgow but since her uncle was the club's manager and since she knew all about golf, she kept on working there.

The season was about to start and she was in charge of giving private classes for top-notch clients. Her rock solid privacy was celebrated by all and she was the perfect fit to deal with bankers and members of the idle class. An actor was about to complete the list.

"Y/N, here's the list of your clients for the next week"

Three names as each client required all attention. Quality over quantity was the motto of the club on that regard. The second one rang a bell to Y/N: Henry Cavill.

"Why does that name sound familiar? We've already have him, perhaps?" Y/N asked to Olivia who was welcoming the clients in the resort and who happened to be a close friend to Y/N.

"He's an actor, you fool" she replied in a moment of rest from the wave of clients "A handsome one too, lucky you!"

Instead of rejoicing along with Olivia, Y/N just hoped he was not the megalomaniac kind and that he wouldn't be a nightmare to work with. She went on with her day, many things had to be fixed before her first classes the next day.

Henry arrived by the entrance desk where Olivia acknowledged him and welcomed her just like any other client, in spite of her shouting internally. He had packed the bare minimum so his installment was brief.

The next day, it was almost noon when he woke up so he took himself out to the cafeteria.

Y/N had finished her first class of the day with a young member of the Dutch royal family and was gaining back the main accomodatio, up to the staff's lunch room. She had not changed clothes as she was not to meet any client.

Or so she thought.

"Oh, come on now!" Y/N heard someone grunting in her back as she was about to open the door to the place where she had left her food. She turned around only to see a frustrated Henry Cavill.

"May I help you, sir?" Y/N asked.

"Yes, please!" Henry jumped on the occasion "I'm looking for the lunch room but I always end up in this corridor... It's a bloody labyrinth there", he added holding back a nervous laugh.

Henry came back from his frustration as his misery was coming to an end with Y/N's arrival and that's on his way back that he noticed just how splendid Y/N was.

"Please, let me be your guide"

"Thank you very much. By the way, I'm Henry"

"And I'm Y/N", she responded making the connection with the photograph of Henry Olivia had shown her on her phone.

Along their journey to the lunch room, the two of them made some small talk while Y/N had to keep her composure. Olivia was right, he was bloody handsome. Even more so that on any photograph. And besides, he was visibly not a douche but an angel, making her feel at ease early on in their conversation.

As they arrived by the cafeteria filled with expensive furniture, the actor accompanied his "thank yous" with an offer: "I'm all alone at the resort, I could use some company for the lunch"

It was tempting if it wasn't for the fact that Y/N and the whole staff wasn't allowed to eat with the clients.

"Oh I see..." Henry said as Y/N explained the situation "But what if it's the client's decision. Isn't the customer always right?" he completed, glad he had found this trick to make her stay.

"Well, I suppose that it's the rule, yeah..." Y/N had been upset to decline the offer but she figured that indeed, she could stay a little while. Besides, the cafeteria was big enough for her not to be seen by anyone.

"It's a yes, then?"

"Yes, it is"

"So, what do you do here anyway?" Henry asked her as he came back from the buffet.

"I'm a golf instructor"

"Well, in that case, I'll probably see you on the green"

"About that, I should probably tell you that I'm the one who's gonna take care of your lessons for as long as you stay"

"I cannot wait. Though I should apologise in advance"

Y/N quizzed him by fixing his eyes. Shit, those eyes... Don't stare, don't stare, Y/N thought.

"I'm probably the worst golf player in Britain"

***

"You want to hold it like that" Y/N informed the way to seize the putter as she placed herself behind the impressive stature she had in front of her.

She could not believe that she was giving in the cliché of being glued to get someone to play golf.

Henry had not exaggerated, he indeed was pretty bad. In fact, he lacked of coordination and Y/N had to constantly remind him of how he was supposed to swing his body.

"May I?"

"Yes!" Henry was relieved to hear that he would get more help from her as she suggested than she could grab his arms to show the move.

She took his arms by the elbows. Henry being in a polo, she could feel all of his muscles under her touch.

"There, that's right! You've got the move. Now try to hit the ball"

And Henry executed himself but failed to even graze it. He snickered and then gave in a frank laughter that Y/N echoed.

"Right, you're gonna need to spend more time with me, Mr. Cavill"

"It's all I'm dreaming of. Dinner with me tonight in the garden?"

The class ended and for Y/N, it meant the beginning of her third and last class of the day.

As it was only 4 pm, Henry joined the games room where he had a view on the green where Y/N was helping an old lady to practice.

Of course, Y/N was too busy to notice him but it didn't stop him to smile like a child at her.

He was admiring her grace and her air of benevolence when a man came to him "She's a beauty, isn't she?"

Henry nodded at the stranger who in turns carried on "It must run in the family"

As Henry took his eyes oof of Y/N to see whom he was talking to, the stranger introduced himself "I'm Max, the club's manager. Y/N's uncle"

"Oh! How do you do? I'm Henry"

Max nodded, knowing very well who his select guest was.

"Is she a great teacher to you?"

"For sure. It's just that I'm a terrible pupil"

Max laughed along with Henry "Ah, son, she'll make a great player out of you"

The dinner happened. Henry had changed into another polo paired with camel chinos.

Y/N too had changed into a strapless floral dress with brown sandals. She greeted Henry as she sat down in the grass on which Henry had displayed a basket of fruits.

They started drinking and talking as the moon rose in the sky.

"I've talked with your uncle this afternoon"

"Oh have you? He's quite something, isn't he?"

"That he is. According to him, you're the greatest teacher out there"

"And you doubt it?"

"I'll try to be as good as a lamb for you"

After dinner, Y/N suggested that they take a walk around the resort. Any way to make the night last longer was worth seizing.

Everything was calm. No one around. Under their feet, the grass was slightly wet as dew had started forming and tinting their shoes.

Y/N took off her shoes, soon followed by Henry who had not done something as spontaneous as throwing a picnic in a very long time.

With their shoes in their hands, they carried on walking on the grass as crickets were going for a symphony and more and more windows got dark afar.

"It's been ages since I hadn't spent a lovely night like that" Henry sighed with pleasure "but that being said, I should hit my bed if I want to be at the top of my performance for my strict instructor"

The two of them had gotten very close to one another "If I stay now, I'm staying the whole night" Henry commented as Y/N's lips were dangerously close to his.

"I would let you" Y/N replied.

***

Henry and Y/N had met regularly apart from the times set for the classes over the last two weeks and if Henry had barely gotten better, the two of them had grown fond of the other. They had kissed on the fourth night, but both of them were not craving for more. Henry did not wish to rush things, nor did Y/N though the tension became unbearable.

"Do you think your uncle would kick you out if you spent the night at my room tonight?" Henry ventured as the class was over, wishing that he could kiss her right there, on the green.

"I wouldn't mind being kicked out if it meant spending the night with you" Y/N answered as she put back the clubs in the trolley.

After they finished eating at their favourite spot, Henry seized Y/N's hand and together they traveld to his room.

As Henry opened the door, he preceded Y/N,cupping her face with his hands to make her follow him in the suite.

He shut the door behind her and took her in his arms, only letting go on her after having carefully laid her on the bed.

"It is my turn to teach you a lesson, baby", he purred in her ear as he had let his lips wander from her legs to her face.

He placed his body over Y/N's but suddenly he got repentant and cursed "Fuck, I came here with nothing..."

Of course, Henry had no plans of making love to his instructor when he had booked holidays at the resort and found himself caught off guard, without protection for the night.

"In my purse" Y/N told him where to look.

"You might just be the most prepared teacher ever"

"Just grab it" Y/N begged him as he was going for encores, giving another sequel of kisses to her skin.

Henry ripped the scabbard and took his apparel out of his trousers, dressing it for the occasion.

Gracious God! There was lot to look at...

Fully erect, Henry came back in bed where Y/N was trying her best not to stare at the length.

"You sure about this?" Henry inquired as he aligned himself.

"Never been more sure in my whole life"

Henry then slid his member, inch by inch to be sure that Y/N was coping with what she was given.

He was just half through when it began to hurt.

"It's alright, doll!" Henry consoled her "I'm sorry, I'll go slow, I promise"

Henry found his way out as he had an idea to ease the process. Y/N still under him, he got down on her and made a feast of the flesh flashing before his eyes.

There was no doubt: he was much better at this than with golf.

As Y/N looked down at the face that had found shelter between her legs, she noticed just how dedicate he was. He was giving it all the attention required.

His eyes were glistening by the feeble light above their head.

Henry's cock was beating a rhythm of its own, pleased at it was that Henry was able to make Y/N moan with just his tongue and fingers.

The resort was known for "its quiet nights" and "tranquil setting" but tonight, Henry was eager to go off the rails.

It did have the expected effect on Y/N since her lair had gotten damp. Henry let her come back from the mountain she had climbed before he dived inside.

This time around, the whole length got in no sooner said than done.

"You're just so gorgeous!" Henry articulated with difficulty as he was carrying his moves, putting more energy by every second that went by.

Y/N's fingers borrowed the path drawn by his torso which was dripping with sweat "You're one very good student. And a very hot one too"

Henry's heart was pounding in his chest as he lifted Y/N's legs to put them by each side of his spine. That way, he reached a new spot with the tip of his penis which made Y/N pant with his name on her lips.

"Henry!" she cried her lungs out through the dark of the night. The tranquil nights long gone.

"Come for me, doll!"

She didn't have to hear twice as she was unleashing her falls.

But Henry was insatiable. Though teased twice by the sight of Y/N coming for him, his cock was still showing no sign of weakness.

He was willing to let go of her lover to give her some rest while he would take care of himself but Y/N stopped him as he was about to take off the condom.

"I wouldn't mind a third lesson" she told him "Let's change the angle. Show me how your swing's going. As for your stamina, Mr. Cavill, it got much better"

Y/N got on all fours, spreading her legs for Henry to come up behind her. As he entered the well, Y/N stretched herself so that she in turn allowed more of Hnery to get in and out.

Henry was admiring the view as he held Y/N by her hips, pounding her.

In and out, fast at first, the sounds of his cock hitting the bottom of her cunt.

Then Henry who got tired of the the action - and who was not going to hold it back for very much longer as Y/N's moans were rushing his climax - got slow, savouring every second he had ahead of him before he would come too.

Sensing that Y/N was close to get her third orgasm as she got tight around his cock, he decided for her to come to do so as well, and hoped that it would arrive soon.

She did come, shouting and laughing as she came back.

"I don't want you to come in that. I want to see you coming for me, Henry"

Henry then quickly removed the piece of latex which was soiled with pre-cum. The sole fact of taking it off almost made him come.

Henry kneeled on the bed by the level of Y/N who was laying down and emptied himself on her stomach.

"I cannot wait for our next class" Henry said in a sigh as he rested his limbs by Y/N.

#henry cavill #imagines #henry cavill imagines #smut #oops i guess #mind that i wrote smut in the train for the sake of science #henry cavill x reader

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1plus1kiyoomi · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 6: Fight or Flght Response

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[masterlist]

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warnings: mentions of sex and pretty much a toxic relationship

Morning comes and Kuroo wakes up with a headache. Eyes still closed, he taps on the other side of the bed, his hands looking for your body. “Love?” He groans. “Love, can you bring me some medication? My head hurts.”

Kuroo falls asleep once again and then wakes up an hour later. He sits up, his head ringing. “(Y/N)? Love?” He leaves the bed and doesn’t feel any presence of you in the house. “Oh, it’s 9AM. She must be at work already.”

Well, Kuroo’s not wrong. You are at your office but you aren’t working. You’re weeping at your table because you can’t seem to get rid of Kuroo’s words to his friends.

“So (Y/N) and I are trying to work our marriage out for a year, and she’s taking it way too seriously. While I can’t even look at her face! She messages me all the time about where I am, what I’m doing and all of that. She begs me to go on dates and nags at me if I miss it. I want to tell her off sometimes, but she’s a really good fuck. Like she’s amazing in bed and she lets me have it anytime so yeah. I guess it’s worth to stay.”

It keeps repeating in your head like a broken track. And your tears run down your cheeks and you know it won’t stop for a while. You stand from your desk and move to the little bedroom that is in your office. You lay on the bed and bury your face on the pillow.

The moment you heard his words come of his lips last night, you wanted to slap him hard, beat him up, tear his hair off his head, but you couldn’t. You were glued on the wooden floor of Kenma’s house, not able to believe Kuroo could say that. Your heart shattered into pieces that couldn’t be even counted.

But still, you went home with him. Even slept with him.

If your friends, especially Iwaizumi, find out about this, they’ll definitely tell you to leave him. No excuses. And you don’t want to leave Kuroo.

“Where did I go wrong? Is it because I’m ugly?” You take your phone out and open the camera app. “Very ugly right now. This is why he doesn’t want me to post anything about our relationship.”

Someone knocks on your office door so you wipe your tears quickly and open the Netflix app so you can pretend that you’ve been watching a sad movie this whole time.

“(Y/N)? The flowers are here,” Terushima says as he enters your office. “Why are you crying?”

Speaking of Terushima, he and Kuroo have become friends after their fight. When Kuroo picks you up sometimes and Terushima’s also there, you always find the two talking about hair. The blonde even goes to your place sometimes so he can style Kuroo’s hair. It’s their form of bonding so you really don’t have a say about it.

“This drama is just so sad,” you lie, showing him the screen of your phone that is playing a random sad movie.

“I didn’t know you were the type to cry cause of movies,” the blonde chuckles. “Anyways, fix yourself. Because we will be decorating a big function room starting this afternoon.”

“I almost forgot. The client wanted all real flowers right?” You sigh and sit up from your bed. ‘No time for crying. You’re a busy woman.’

“Yeah, so we have to make sure that the flowers will not wither tomorrow,” Terushima confirms.

You brush your issue with Kuroo under the rag and focus on your work instead.

Evening comes quickly and it’s finally time for your team to set up at the function hall. You had to wait until late evening to start since there was an event beforehand. The bestman of the wedding, Yuta, joined your team as the supervisor.

While you are setting up on the stage, you can feel your workmates throwing weird looks at you. “What?” You raise an eyebrow at them and one of your colleagues walks up to you.

“The best man has been staring at you ever since we got her,” she whispers with a teasing smirk. You roll your eyes at her and brush it off.

It’s always like this. At every event, your colleagues ships you with every best man or groomsman that shows interest towards you. They don’t know you’re actually married and think you’re single so they tease you. In hopes that you finally get to plan your own wedding. Sadly, you already are married and no wedding will take place.

You take a glance at the said man and he is staring at you, but not in a creepy way. As soon as you make eye contact, he smiles at you. You swear your heart skips a beat but at the same time you will never admit that it did.

“Miss (L/N)?” Yuta calls you out of nowhere. Surprised by his sudden presence, you fall on the ladder you are on and land on top of him.

‘What in the drama is this?!’

“I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!” You push yourself off of the man quickly and bow repeatedly.

“It’s alright! It’s my fault for surprising you.” Yuta stands up as well and when your eyes meet, you burst into laughter. “You’re much prettier up close.”

“So you’re the straightforward type, huh?” You let out a chuckle and he smirks at you. “I thought you’d be a shy one since you have been just staring until now.”

“Well, since you think I’m the straightforward type, let me ask you. Are you single?” Yuta smiles at you shyly this time and you feel your cheeks burn hot.

‘You’re married, (Y/N)! Don’t even think about flirting back.’ You mentally scold yourself and look away from the man beside you. “Find out yourself.”

The glamorous wedding finally ends and it was one of the best weddings you have every coordinated. The couple is so in love with each other and they are surrounded by supportive family and friends. The guests were very uplifting and fun in general. You even made friends with some of the guests and have gotten closer to Yuta.

“Thank you for planning our wedding. This is such a dream come true!” The bride thanks you with a bow. You bow back and say your thanks as well. “And Yuta’s a good boy.” The bride winks at you before she and groom leaves.

“(Y/N)!” Speaking of the devil.

“Yuta!” You wave at him. He runs towards you and pants when he’s finally in front with you. “Can I help you with something?”

“Do you have a drive home?” He asks you so you shake your head no. You’re just being honest. “Can I drive you to your place?”

“My place is just a 10-minute walk from here, so it’s okay,” you reply. You check the time and it’s already past midnight. “I have to go now. It’s really late. Bye!”

“I’ll walk with you!” Yuta offers. “I won’t take no for an answer.”

“Okay, then. Whatever makes you sleep at night,” you joke and he just laughs.

The two of you walk home and Yuta shares random stories about his childhood. You like it. You like how he is open to you without you trying. You like how he’s initiating first. You like how gentle he is when he is talking to you. You like how he softly calls your name. You like how he’s not hiding that he’s interested in you. But you hate how you want Kuroo to be like that towards you. You hate how you’re still thinking about him.

Kuroo’s words come crashing into your mind again and you badly want to take Yuta’s hand and ask him to bring you home. But your mind is also telling you to come home quickly to Kuroo, even if you know he won’t be waiting for you.

“I’m here!” You say as you arrive in front of your condominium building. “Thank you for walking me.”

“No problem.” Yuta scratches the back of his neck. A change of demeanor happens, and Yuta becomes shy. “Can I get your number? I want to tak-”

“(Y/N)!”

Your world freezes as you hear Kuroo’s voice. It’s 1AM. Why the hell is he outside your building as well? You turn your head see him glaring at you with his arms crossed.

‘What do I do? Kuroo might misunderstand! And I can’t tell Yuta that Kuroo is my husband because he wants to keep our relationship a secret. Oh my gosh! What to do?’

You’re panicking. Your whole system is. You can feel your fingers tremble. Kuroo is walking towards the two of you and is already so close but you still don’t know what to do and say. The particles in your container are bouncing on the walls of your space rapidly because of pressure, and it’s making your mind go blank. Your fight or flight response is not functioning well.

Kuroo has been waiting for you at your building’s lobby since 10PM. He was waiting for your message about him picking you up at the hotel, but clearly you forgot about that. He thought you forgot because of fatigue but clearly that’s not the case.

Especially now that a man he has never seen before walked you back to your place.

“Who’s this?” Yuta and Kuroo ask in unison. Yuta glares at Kuroo, not liking how provocative the guy looks. Your husband raises an eyebrow at Yuta, his feline-like eyes glaring back at the unfamiliar guy.

“Kuroo, this is my friend Yuta,” you start to introduce but they aren’t even listening to you. They’re in this staring contest you don’t know about.

“And Yuta, this is Kuroo, my brother.”

——————————————————————————

Facts:

Your reactions when you are nervous are driven by the production of hormones and equip us to fight or escape from situations that are dangerous or threatening. This is known as the fight or flight response.

Nervousness can cause stuttering and rambling.

Anxiety may be partly genetic.

People who are anxious are quicker to pick up on changes in facial expressions than those who are but they are less accurate. Thus, it causes misunderstandings.

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#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu smau #haikyuu series #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsuro smau #kuroo tetsuro fanfiction #kuroo x reader #kuroo smau #kuroo x y/n #kuroo x you

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