#the day so like i’m not saying that they didn’t have it hard they did they did ok but. get over it ? ALSKALSKALKSLAKSLA like alright … but

[endiness]

@sugarrushsock Wow I’m so happy someone actually has all the receipts cuz every other post just seems like vague call out post with no substance. Also wildly the Henry cavill just seems to say whatever makes him look best at that moment. You’d think he’d have a better pr team

@cilianda1 His interviews are scripted all the time

@sugarrushsock They’re terrible at their job if that’s the case. The lack of consistency is alarming to say the least. Like stick to a story cuz they made this guy look stupid

Okay, just to address this, but Henry Cavill's PR was actually a lot more insidious than this post might make things seem. Because he really only fucked up and showed his hand a few times.

Like, out of +50 interviews for S2, it's only in (iirc) 3 interviews that he ever acknowledges anything about how he was the one cutting Geralt's lines — and even then, all of those interviews either happened at con panels, in interviews over ~10 mins long, and/or in foreign/non-english press — all of which are significantly less likely to be seen and reported on by the fandom and larger news outlets. But in all the rest of those +50 interviews? He was talking about how much he pushed for a more verbose Geralt whilst never acknowledging how HE'S the one responsible for that mess in the first place.

Same thing with him going on about how much he cares about adhering to the source material as if Lauren's vision of the show is somehow in opposition to that. He went on and on and on about that all throughout the press for S2, but it's only in a few interviews where he fucks up and actually gives the context for what he meant by "Lauren's vision" ie Yennefer and Ciri being just as important as Geralt is and the show heavily centering around women.

Or, like, in S1 interviews, he was perfectly fine with bringing up how he had no idea about the books until Lauren told him about them and he had no problem talking about how much he was inspired by the video games for his performance as Geralt. Then come S2 (after he'd gotten dunked on by reddit for his book inaccurate performance in S1) and he suddenly changed his tune, hardly mentioned the games as inspiring his performance again (or, really, at all), and started going on and on about the books.

Or even with him admitting to, basically, having only played the third game despite saying he's played all the games and everything — he only ever admitted that in maybe, like, 2 interviews all of which were in foreign/non-english press. Same thing with him admitting he only ever read through the series once — he only ever said that in one interview and it was at a +40 minute long con panel.

Or even this quote from S1 press where he admits to how he didn't actually prepare for the role or do any research:

"I asked my agent to put me on the spot and wanted to meet Lauren as soon as possible. I didn’t even need to prepare specially for the role. Because I breathe, I experience this universe every day. I’ve already had many opportunities to think about this character when I was playing the game. My preparation was already done before the casting even began!"

Like, where is that quote from? It's from an interview he did with a french magazine. So obviously not a lot of people saw it. Plus, the quote might sound… fine without context. But what is the context? He hadn't read any of the books and he had only ever really played the third game.

Like, adding it all up, it does look bad. Because it is lol. But the thing is, the vast, vast, vast majority of the fanbase never did this. It read or watched maybe one or two interviews he did here and there and only ever saw Henry Cavill talking about how much of a fan he is, how much he knows, how hard he pushed for a more book accurate Geralt, how important adhering to the source material is to him. But when you actually look into everything he's said, that's when his whole story really falls apart because none of it adds up or makes any sense.

Debunking misinformation about Netflix's The Witcher (Part 1)

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7]

"Henry Cavill is a massive fan of the books and the games and he quit the show because the writers wouldn't stick to the books and he just cares about the source material so much."

Henry Cavill not only did not know that the books existed when he started pursuing the role of Geralt, but he actually thought that the books were based off of the video games (and he still didn't bother to read them) and he didn't learn that the games were actually based off the books until Lauren told him (even though the first thing in the game credits is that they're based off the books); as of 2021, he as only read the full series once — right before he was cast in 2018; while he has played TW3, he has only played a little of TW2 (and I've never found any evidence that he's played the first game); and he also has not played the DLC for TW3.

Henry Cavill also started heavily pushing the narrative that he's just such a massive fan of the books and how important adhering to the source material is to him during the press for S2 to deflect from how it was due to his acting choices of cutting Geralt's lines and either saying nothing or just grunting instead that Geralt's characterization — who is much more verbose in the books — was book inaccurate in S1:

He also lied about the situation and tried to act like Geralt was never originally written as being verbose and blamed the lack of dialogue on Yennefer and Ciri's prominence, which cannot be true as confirmed by Lauren:

And tried to act like the lines he was cutting weren't that important anyway so it wasn't really a big deal, which also cannot be true as confirmed by Joey:

He also started pushing the narrative that adhering to the source material is so important to him and it's 'tricky' to do that with Lauren's vision, but his definition of "Lauren's vision" is the show being an ensemble piece with Yennefer and Ciri at the forefront (like the books) and the show in general heavily centering around women (like the books):

So the idea of him caring so much about "book accuracy" is, in fact, not accurate to the books at all as his problems were the prominence of women in the show when Ciri is the main character of the main book series, which the show started adapting from S2 onwards (which is when Henry Cavill started to complain about wanting "book accuracy" in the first place), and when women are very prominent, central, key figures in the books and they often drive the plot forwards.

Lastly, S3 was the closest adaption of the books out of all the seasons so far, so the idea that he quit after S3 because the writers just weren't respecting the source material and the show wasn't following the books doesn't make any sense anyway.

"Henry Cavill is the only reason why the show was even close to the source material at all."

I've not only never seen any evidence of this, but if anything, I've seen the exact opposite: Henry Cavill was either directly responsible for or at least contributed in some way to a lot of things that went against the books or didn't happen in them.

As I already pointed out, he cut Geralt's lines in S1 and either said nothing or just grunted instead which is inaccurate to Geralt's characterization in the books. Here's another quote from Joey affirming that:

(Just to note: During the press for S1, he frequently talked about how the games inspired his performance as Geralt — sometimes talking about them even more than the books despite how the show is based off of the books, not the games — and it wasn't until S2 press that he suddenly changed his tune and started talking about how important adhering to the source material ie the books is to him. He also only started advocating for a more book accurate Geralt because he got dunked on by reddit for his book inaccurate performance in S1.)

He didn't want to play Geralt and Jaskier's friendship as directly as in the books and buddy-buddy with each other:

He didn't want to have any kind of conflict in Geralt and Ciri's relationship in S2 — at least on Geralt's side of things:

Nor play Geralt struggling with fatherhood at all — all of which led to the domino effect of Yennefer's betrayal:

Eskel's death (which in itself also led to things like Vesemir trying to create new witchers and Lambert's attitude toward Ciri):

And Voleth Meir being the big bad of the season:

He didn't want Geralt and Triss to even just platonically find comfort in each other in S2 — which is what happens in the books:

He nixed a sex scene between Geralt and Yennefer in S2 because he didn't think it'd be in character of them to have sex after reuniting which, uh, is absolutely in character of them:

While this is an incredibly inconsequential change, given the prevalence of this idea that Henry Cavill is such an ardent defender of the source material ie the books and how much he wanted the show to adhere to them, I do think it's important to note that he pushed for — and got — more signs into the show even though by his own admission that is more of a game thing than a book thing and he got it into the show for the explicit purpose of catering to game stans:

This is also another incredibly inconsequential change, but again, given how prevalent the idea of Henry Cavill pushing for perfect source accuracy is, I do just want to point out that he would wear his armor 24/7 to make it look worn down:

Even though it is canon in the books that Geralt will buy himself brand new clothes, so the idea that Geralt's clothing has to look worn down and can't be brand new is not actually book accurate.

"Lauren wanted to make Roach's death a joke."

Just to address this point specifically, Lauren wanted to make a meta reference about how all of Geralt's horses are named Roach. That in no way, shape, or form means that she wanted to make Roach's death into a joke or even that the scene had to be played comedically. This is what Lauren had to say about the subject and the 'joke' in question (which, js, actually fits the tone of the books more):

And as far as the "Henry Cavill is the only one who cared about the source material and he's the only reason why the show even stuck to the books at all" front goes... Henry Cavill did change the dialogue in this scene to a book quote/reference; however, the quote in question ("Enjoy your last walk across the meadow and through the mist. Be not afraid of her for she is your friend.") is not something that Geralt himself says and the line/scene from the books foreshadows Geralt's ending in them.

So, at least imo — especially taking into account the incredibly high standard the fandom has set for Henry Cavill as the #1 defender of the books — I don't think this change was actually book accurate especially given the narrative significance of that exchange in the books.

[alwaysanundertone]

high sex drive | poly! marauders x fem! reader

hurt/comfort + smut

TW: NSFW, piv, non-protected sex, oral (f/m receiving)

Sirius was drawing patterns on your thigh, the tips of his fingers grazing the supple skin there ever so slowly while his head rested on your belly. Your other two boyfriends were cuddling each other, they were all spent after coming many times, so why weren’t you?

You found every touch maddening, it didn’t make sense for you to be so wound up; it wasn’t like you hadn’t gotten off, because you had, and plenty of times.

The problem was your sex drive. Your desire wasn’t something that your ex boyfriends accepted, nor did they deem it normal, one of them even suggested to go see a sex therapist one time, and you did. The session failed to give you answers, and after some time you just gave up, resigning yourself to a life of not voicing your own needs.

It went good, as good as faking being satisfied would go, but it wasn’t that bad after all. With these guys, though, it was really difficult to just pretend.

“Love?”

You looked up, finding three pairs of eyes focused on you. “Mh?”

“Where did you go, dove? You’ve been awfully quiet. Sirius just asked you if you are hungry, we thought about ordering something, is pizza good?”

You refrained from blushing, hating the fact that you weren’t able to mask your true feelings even in a peaceful moment like that. “Sorry, I’ve just been lost in my own thoughts, I guess” You chuckled, sounding suspicious even to your own ears. “Pizza’s good, thank you”

You felt Sirius mouth closing over your inner thighs, its teeth piercing the supple skin there, making you gasp. “Come on, darling, you know you can tell us anything”

The thing was that every boyfriend you had started this conversation like this, telling you that it was okay, that he would have taken care of you, and then when they found out that they couldn’t change you, they’d start to call you a nympho, making you ashamed of yourself. So no, you weren’t sure you could tell them anything.

“You’re doing it again, love” James was looking at you through pleading eyes, it was really hard to resist him when he was acting like this, but you had to. The guys were the best thing that happened to you in a long time, and you weren’t willingly letting them go for something as stupid as your sex drive.

“Oh, uh” You blushed. “I think I’m just kind of tired, you know? Nothing crazy”

There was a moment of silence, then Remus spoke up. “This thing won’t work if you’re keeping stuff from us, dove. You have to understand the importance of trust, if you don’t want to talk about it now, fine, but at least tell us the main topic that’s bothering you so much you’re not even listening to us when we’re talking to you”

His words felt like a harsh slap to your cheek, bringing true tears to the surface, which you tried to fight against, to no avail.

“Sorry, I don’t want to bother you, I do trust you, it’s just-“

“Was sex too much? Were you unconfortable? You’ve been like this since we had sex, did we hurt you?”

Sirius sounded horrified, and you couldn’t help the words that tumbled out of your mouth, you had to fix this.

“No, no it’s quite the opposite actually” They were all looking at you expectantly, you sighed. “It’s just- I have a high sex drive, okay? And I hate it, I know it’s twisted and disgusting and not right but I need to get off multiple times a day and sometimes having sex worsens the situation because then I keep wanting more and I hate it, you evet got me off so many times I’m the worst girlfriend ever.” Now that the words were comung out of your mouth, you couldn’t seem to stop them. “And I’ve been to sex therapists but they don’t know how to turn this off and just- I’m so sorry you’re probably regretting even-“

“Do not finish that sentence for the love of God”

You furrowed your brows. “Sirius what-“

“No, I should be the one saying sorry, I’ve been torturing you for the past hour and I didn’t even notice it.”

“And you’re not disgusting” James piped in.

“Dove, it’s nothing crazy, we can just-“

“No you can’t fix it.” You couldn’t stop the words from coming out of your mouth even if you tried, years of shame weighting you down. “Every ex that I had told me that they could fix it but it just doesn’t go away and I know it’s a burden” You pressed your hands to your face, hating this situation and hating yourself even more for letting it happen.

“Dove, would you please let us finish?” You nodded, your hands firmly locked in place. “Okay, I was trying to say that you can tell us if you’re needy and we’ll be really happy to help. There’s three of us, and if we aren’t available, there are your toys, you know? I don’t know what douchebags you dated, but this would never be a burden to us” His eyes were pleading you to believe him, and you found yourself wanting to.

“I think it’s anything but a burden, darling” You blushed slightly at Sirius, who was now laying on his belly, his head hovering right above your centre. You squirmed unconfortably, he smirked at you. “I’m being mean, aren’t I? Hovering just above you, so close yet so out of touch” His lips were now grazing your earlobe, making you shiver head to toe, the movement of his hands on your inner thigh maddening. “Such a pretty little thing, so flustered, what do you want now, love?”

You tried to tell him, but being vocal about your needs was something you weren’t used to, especially after years of slut shaming in your past relationship. You tried to avoid his question, wriggling your hips. “You know what I want”

He tsked. “No, I don’t. Do you want my mouth?” He lightly kissed you above your panties and shorts, making you grunt. “Mh, interesting. Maybe it’s my fingers that you want?” He caressed your nipples over the thin fabric of your -James’s- shirt. “My cock?”

The moment was interrupted by a pornographic grunt, coming from a very flustered James. “Fuck that’s so hot” He palmed his dick over his boxer briefs, making you blush.

“Look at him, darling, you’re making him needy. I think we should give him a show.”

You whimpered. “Sirius, please”

“I can give you everything you want, love. Just ask me”

You swallowed your pride. “I want your mouth, please”

He tutted. “Where do you want it? Here?” He grazed your forehead, the slightest touch sending you ablaze with need.

“No, Sirius, fuck, I want it on my pussy, please eat me out, I’m begging you” You couldn’t recognize your own voice, it sounded breathy, restrained, too close to begging.

“Gladly, darling” He pushed your shorts down, ripping the soft fabric of your panties in two. You didn’t have time to complain, his mouth immediately landing right on your clit.

His tongue started massaging the little bud, making you gasp as he flicked it repeatedly, moaning while doing so.

“You’re so wet, darling, I’m kind of mad, you know? You were really trying to keep this from me, from us” You shivered as you felt his index finger teasing your hole slowly, making you arch your back.

As he entered you, Remus was right above you, his dick in his hand, stroking your cheek with his free one. “Open up, dove, make me feel good”

He didn’t have to ask twice, your mouth opening right as Sirius thrusted into you with his fingers. “Fuck, she’s so wet James, fuck the show come here”

Suddenly, all three of your boyfriends were on you, James lining the crown of his cock at your entrance as Sirius lips closed right on your clit, sucking on it hardly. You felt one of Remus’s hands right over your right nipples, pinching it slightly, making you arch your back.

Your head was spinning, you felt awfully close to orgasming. “Fuck, love if you squeeze me like that I won’t last”

“That’s fine” Sirius piped in. “That’s why there’s three of us, to keep her satisfied” He tutted as you tried to close your thighs. “That isn’t nice now love, is it? Keep them open for us, stay still”

You loved when he was mean during sex, loved how he made you feel like you were at his mercy. “Sirius, close, god”

He chuckled. “You’re already coming, aren’t you? You’ve been such a good girl, telling us what you need, I think you deserve to come” You felt Remus’s cock swelling in your mouth, you rushed to swallow every drop of him, trying to focus on it, but it was difficult when you had two of the hottest guys you’ve ever seen between your thighs.

“Come now, darling. Be a good girl and come for us”

It was all it took for you to explode, your mouth wide open, eyes shut as you gripped Sirius head with all your force. He wasn’t complaining, though, still lapping at you, while James got off inside of you, his thrust loosing force and rhythm.

Just as you were coming down from your high, you felt another cock probing at your entrance.

“What…”

“Hush, love, I think you got one more in you, don’t you?”

You weren’t able to respond, your long-haired boyfriend immediately started rutting into you, his hips hitting the back of your thighs at a punishing rhythm.

“You’re so hot, fuck” The sounded that came out of you were pornographic, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, you could already tell that this orgasm was going to shake you thoroughly.

All you could manage to do, to say, was chant your boyfriends’ name like a prayer.

“Come on now, dove, give us another” Remus leaned down to kiss you, his tongue caressing yours, you couldn’t help but moan in his open mouth.

You obliged, drenching Sirius’s cock as your brain completely shut down. You could feel your boyfriend coming inside of you, but you just couldn’t bring yourself down to Earth.

You found yourself in a hot tub, James massaging your shoulders behind you while Remus stood kneeling outside of it, rubbing your feet.

“How do you feel? Good?”

You hummed, looking up at your long-haired boyfriend, your hand reaching up caress his face.

“Really, love? Me and Remus are both cuddling you, and it’s him you reward?” James’s tone had no bite in it, still you reached your other hand behind his head, scratching his scalp.

“Hey, it’s me who ate her out, it’s only fair, really” He winked at you.

There was a bit of silence, then you felt Remus hands wondering up your thighs.

“What-“

He smiled at you. “I think I can get another one out of you, just relax against Jamie and let me do the work”

You moaned lightly, nuzzling against your boyfriend’s toned chest, wondering what you’ve done to deserve them.

[blessedmisery]

summary: plug!eren yeager x fem!reader -finding a plug was hard these days—let alone a reliable one, so you took matters into your own hands and found yourself in the hands of eren yeager. warnings: drug use (marijuana), unhealthy drug habits (using it to cope), plug!eren yeager, big dick eren, use of pet names, size difference, praise, dirty talk, degradation, cunnilingus, literal filth, unprotected sex, spanking, pnv, porn with a little bit of plot, do not try this at home. wc; 4.8k authors note: having severe plug!eren brainrot.

you unlocked the door to your apartment, finally stepping inside its warmth after a long, rainy, miserable day. you were greeted by your roommate, sasha, who you found sitting on the couch in your shared living room. as a broke university student, you couldn’t afford to have your own place so you lived with your childhood best friend. she was a pretty good roommate, a little messy at times but a great cook. she loved baking, especially when the two of you got high together, a habit you both developed earlier this year in an effort to battle the stress of school. usually, you were the one responsible for getting the weed—sasha claimed that she didn’t trust herself to get a good deal but in reality you knew she was just too shy to go pick it up herself.

and that's exactly how you found yourself going to jean kirstein every week, to get your shared weekly stash of weed. jean however, was a terrible plug. he was the first one you had found and it turns out that he was known for his inconsistency and terrible attitude. and that’s also why last week was the last time you ever picked up weed from jean kirstein. 

“and what are we supposed to do now?” sasha exclaimed, eyes wide with confusion after you told her that you were finally done with jean’s bullshit. 

“i’m going to find a new plug. connie told me his roommate eren yeager sells” you replied, joining her on the couch with a steaming cup of tea. you and connie were friends, having went to high school together. apparently, eren was one of his 4 roommates but you hadn't actually been to connie's new place since he moved in so you’ve never seen any of the guys he lived with.

“i’ve heard of that guy. apparently he picks and chooses his clients, and doesn’t deal to just anyone. good luck getting on his list” she answered, clearly annoyed with your news. 

“don’t worry. i already texted him, connie gave me his number. i’m sure he put in a good word for me” you explained, taking slow, small sips of your tea in an effort to warm up from the rain you got caught under on your way home.

“okay, whatever you say. i still think you shoulda just stuck with jean though. so what if he’s flakey? at least his weed is good” she responded, her eyes fixed on some stupid show that was playing on the tv. 

“of course you’d say that sasha, his weed is the only weed you’ve ever smoked” you shot back, followed by a chuckle. sasha only started smoking recently, but you had dabbled in it before, so you knew your way around things better than she did.

she shifted her gaze from the screen to you, rolling her eyes exaggeratedly to make sure you noticed. “yeah yeah whatever, just let me know if this eren guy replies” she said, fixing her gaze back on the tv. 

you lingered on the couch a little longer until you finished sipping your cup of tea. it had been a long day. you had class all day, somehow managed to forget to pack a lunch and got caught in the rain without an umbrella on your way home. some weed would have been nice to relax after a day like this but you and sasha had run out just a few days ago. you decided that a long hot shower sounded like the second best way to wind down after your miserable day. 15 minutes later you were out of the shower and in front of your fogged up bathroom mirror doing some skincare when you heard your phone buzz on the counter beside you. a slow smile crept onto your face as you checked the message. eren had replied. 

[8:16PM] you: hey, i’m y/n. connie gave me your number. i heard you sell? 

[9:03PM] eren: depends. what do you need?

you finished applying your moisturizer and picked up your phone to reply.

[9:04PM] you: i need some 🍃.

[9:04PM] eren: alr. when do u need it?

[9:05PM] you: as soon as possible

he stopped replying after the last message which had you wondering what he was up to. connie hadn’t told you much about him, only that he was picky with who he sold to and that he was one of his roommates. however to you, he seemed quick to get you weed. eren must’ve known you knew connie. another 20 minutes later, you were sat in your pj’s on your bed, finishing up some homework when your phone buzzed again. 

[9:26PM] eren: can u come tn? 

your eyes widened at the text. that was quick you thought. it was getting late and you had just showered and done all your skincare, but you couldn’t help yourself. a joint would have done wonders for you right now.

you walked out into the living room, deciding to consult sasha. “sasha, he replied, he’s asking me to come pick up tonight” you told her. she was still fixated on her tv show.

“no way. he’s already asking you to pick up? damn y/n what did you say to this guy?” she joked, eyes darting in your direction. 

“nothing, i just asked him if he sells and he asked me to come. let me ask him where to pick up and then i guess ill decide” you replied, pulling out your phone to send eren a reply.

[9:30PM] you: depends. where should i pick up?

[9:32PM] eren: my house. i’ll send the address. 

he sent you the address and you put it in your map. you were shocked to find out that he lived not even a 5 minute walk from your apartment, you knew roughly where connie lived but you didn’t know it was this close. jean lived a good 20 minutes away so this would be so much more convenient for you.

“he lives like 5 minutes from here. i didn’t know connie lived that close, he still hasn’t invited me to see his new place” you explained to sasha, annoyed that you’d be meeting connie’s roommate at his house before him.

“you should totally go then. do you want me to come with?” she replied, her eyes sparkling with excitement. the rain had stopped while you were showering and you thought you could use some fresh air.

“it’s cool, i’d like a walk to clear my head anyways” you responded, confident that you can handle it by yourself. 

“if you say so. stay on the line though and call me if he tries some weird shit with you” she reassured you. you knew sasha didn’t do well in situations like these, so having her on the phone would be much easier than having to ease her anxieties the whole walk on your way to some guy’s house for weed. 

“i’ll be fine, connie said he’s a chill guy. i’m gonna go get dressed” you said, as you walked back into your bedroom and put on a pair of comfy sweats and a hoodie. it wasn’t too cold outside, and now that the rain had stopped, a hoodie would do just fine. you walked towards the front door and grabbed your keys while putting your shoes on. before you left, you shot eren a text.

[9:45PM] you: i’ll be there in 5. 

you were hoping connie would be home so you could kill two birds with one stone–seeing connie who you haven’t seen outside of class in months and getting weed from eren since they conveniently lived in the same house. after a short refreshing walk to the given address, you found yourself planted on his porch, standing right before his front door. you weren’t sure whether to text him first or not, but you opted to ring the doorbell when you noticed almost all the lights on in the house. the door swung open a moment later, revealing a tall, broad shouldered guy with brown hair tied back in a lazy man bun. he wore a black t-shirt which accentuated his biceps and grey sweats. he looked like he worked out. you weren’t expecting him to be so attractive. 

“uh hey, i’m y/n, connie’s friend, i’m here to pick up?” you said awkwardly, breaking the silence. he looked you up and down, his eyes studying every part of your body. 

“yeah, connie told me about you. i’m eren. come in” he said quickly, and stepped aside, making room for you to come in. jean had never really asked you to come inside before so this was kind of weird, but you felt safe knowing connie lived here, so you decided to follow him in. you stepped inside the house noticing it looked exactly like your typical frat house. you looked around, noting all the chipped furniture and stupid posters on the walls.

“is connie home?” you asked, pulling yourself back to the present moment after observing all the small details of their living room, noticing eren leaning against a wall with his hands in his pockets, eyeing you.

“nah, i think he’s out with some girl” he replied casually. 

“oh, okay” you said awkwardly, waiting for him to either say something else or finally give you the weed you came here for.

“you want a smoke before you pick up? it’s on me” eren asked moments later, pushing himself off the wall.

“oh um, are you sure?” you replied nervously, not sure if he was being serious. jean never offered you a free smoke. the one time you smoked with him, he made you pay. 

“yeah for sure” he replied. his eyes were such a dark, vibrant green, his gaze alone was enough to send blood rushing to your cheeks, making you suddenly feel very aware of yourself. “come on out back, we can smoke in the backyard” he added, walking out of the room, expecting you to follow him. and that’s how you found yourself in the backyard, watching him hold a perfectly rolled joint between his lips, with a lighter in his hand. he brought the lighter to the joint, lighting it and took two puffs before passing it to you. puff puff pass. 

“thanks” you mumbled before taking it and bringing it to your lips. you only took one drag before passing it back to him.

“is this your first time smoking weed?” he asked, eyeing you with an indifferent expression on his face.

“no, i usually smoke alone at night or with my roommate, we just dropped our old plug for being too flakey” you replied, watching him smoke the joint. something about him standing there, joint hanging between two fingers, stray hairs falling out of his bun, was so damn attractive.

“i bet it was jean wasn’t it? that dude’s the flakiest fuck i know” he said, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine. it must have been the weed making your body react this way.

“yeah, his weed wasn’t great either. yours better be good or i’ll find another plug” you joked, chuckling awkwardly. 

“you’ll find that i don’t give my good shit out to just anyone princess” he answered, the corner of his mouth lifting up in a slight smirk. the pet name shocked you, pulling you back to reality. you were with a random (hot) stranger. smoking weed. in his house. at 10pm. fuck. 

he took his puffs, and passed the joint back to you. he was clearly amused by the surprised look on your face after calling you princess. “we’ll see about that eren” you replied confidently a few moments later, making sure to drag out the last syllable of his name. his eyes were fixed on you, watching the way you effortlessly took a pull and brushed your fingers against his when passing it back to him. 

the two of you fell into easy conversation while finishing the joint, and talked about everything from university to your future goals. he was an easygoing guy which was refreshing for you, considering all the guys you’ve dated or spoken to before always had something negative to say about how you lived your life. not to mention, eren was also extremely attractive with his slightly messy dark hair and his piercing green eyes which you caught looking at you a little too often. 

the high was finally kicking in, you noticed yourself feeling lighter and the tingling sensation you usually felt was coursing through your body. you and eren started laughing about something stupid together toward the end of your conversation which told you that you weren’t the only one feeling it. you couldn’t help but notice how eren would re-tie his man bun when it fell loose, or how he skillfully held his joint between two slender fingers. his gaze was always fixed on you, rarely breaking eye contact. after finishing your shared joint, eren gave you a tour of the house, and invited you up to his room to hang out and eat some snacks. you protested at first, claiming you needed to go home but you couldn’t lie to yourself, you were having a really good time with him. it felt so easy with him, like you had known each other for ages. 

you were sitting on his bed snacking on some chips that he gave you. there was no denying it—the guy was stocked with snacks. his room was surprisingly clean, contrary to what you expected. it was obvious that he was a gamer from the expensive looking setup on his desk and the red and purple led lights lining the perimeter of his room. he was standing in his doorway, leaning against one side, his forest green eyes once again fixed on you. 

“what do you think of the weed? better than jean’s?” he asked suddenly. you turned to face him and noted how he almost fills the entire door frame with his height, his broad shoulders barely fitting within the frame. it must have been the weed talking because wow, did he always look this good?

“i suppose so. i guess yours will do for now” you teased, enjoying watching his face twist at your sarcasm. 

“oh yeah? you suppose?” eren raised his eyebrows, taking a couple of steps towards where you were sat on his bed, the tone of his voice bordering on seductive. you felt your whole body tense, your thighs pressing against each other from just that one sentence alone. had the temperature gone up? the room suddenly felt so much hotter. his muscular arms were crossed over his chest, his demeanor cool and alluring. you stood up from the bed to face him and even at your full height he towered over you. “mhm” you hummed in return, crossing your arms to match his stance and looking up at him with glossy eyes. whatever this was, it felt like a game— one you knew you wanted to play.

using his index finger and thumb, he tilted your chin further up towards him, making you crane your neck back to look up at him. "if you were to ask me, i'd say you're enjoyin' it veryyy much princess. don’t ya think?" he whispered, voice low and husky, his face so close to yours that you could feel his warm breath practically dancing over your skin. the proximity, the difference in size, the nickname, and the intoxicating smell of his cologne, it was all too much for you to handle at once. you felt a fire burning low in your gut, begging for something you weren’t quite ready to acknowledge just yet. the thrill of the whole situation had you absolutely buzzing, waiting for what was next to come.

“answer me” he ordered when you didn’t respond, his tone making your whole body tense up with a mix of fear and something a little too close to what felt like pleasure. “i suppose i am enjoying it” you teased, playing right back. you felt an invisible line snap, something in the air had changed between the two of you. and that’s when you did something sober you would have never done. you licked your lips, and kissed him. you didn’t need to touch eren to feel his whole body go stiff. you paused momentarily, lips on his, and just as you were about to pull away, eren dove right in. one hand moved to your waist, grabbing it and pulling you closer, and the other was tangled in your hair, pulling at it. he kissed you impatiently, as if he were running out of time. you felt his tongue glide along the inside of your mouth, mapping, and learning every inch of it.

you pulled away for a moment to take your chunky hoodie off. the room felt too hot, the kind of heat that made you want to undress entirely. eren looked down at you while you undressed, his eyes clouded with lust. but disappointment washed over him quickly when he noticed that the hoodie was all you were planning taking off. that wouldn’t do. he stepped around you, and sat down on the bed, resting his elbows on his knees. you were about to join him but before you could, he purred, his voice low and seductive, “strip for me beautiful”. your eyes widened at the request, the order mixed in with the compliment had your core throbbing, silently begging for more. you chose to do as he asked without so much as a word, and slowly began taking off your shirt, followed by your sweats and finally your bra. your cheeks felt warm, embarrassed at the nudity you displayed for him, especially while he was still fully clothed.

“leave them on. i wanna take em’ off myself” he said when he noticed your fingers playing with the lace on your panties. eren groaned at the sight before him, lazily palming himself over his pants. you were so fucking hot, and ready to do anything he told you. “c’mere” he added, admiring you through his lustful gaze. you walked over to him, and planted yourself between his thighs. without another word, he placed one hand on your waist, and the other snaked up to your breast. he took hold of one of your tits, kneading its soft flesh with his calloused hands, his gaze still fixed upon you. you whimpered at the sensation, feeling that same fire impatiently burning in your gut. “aah-“ you moaned, unable to hold yourself back. you could almost feel the weed circulating in your bloodstream, making you so much more sensitive to eren’s touch. “you’re such a fuckin’ slut” he murmured against your skin before pulling you into his lap, and locking his mouth over your nipple. you bit your lip, attempting to hold back sounds, only to fail once you felt him bite.

this almost sent you over the edge. you let out another lewd sound, feeling eren harden beneath you. he pulled his mouth away and in one swift motion, wrapped his arm around your waist and flipped you over, making you bounce on the bed from the impact. you were now laying on the bed, propped up on your elbows, while eren stood hovering above you. he finally pulled his shirt over his head revealing the toned muscular skin it was covering. wow. it must’ve taken him years in the gym to build the physique you were currently looking at. the sight of his abs and biceps made you want to drool. “you like whatchu see princess?” he asked playfully, noticing the way your eyes scanned every part of him, memorizing every vein and muscle. “i guess” you uttered sarcastically, waiting to see his reaction. you saw annoyance flicker through his eyes. “mmm now that just won’t do, baby” he said and gave you no time to reply as he lowered his head to the lace on your underwear, grabbed it with his teeth, and slowly began pulling it down, only using his mouth. fuck. you had never experienced something like this, let alone with your friends roommate— who you had just met.

heat pooled in your lower stomach, and your pussy throbbed yet again, begging for attention. eren waited no time to grab hold of your thighs and position himself between them. he blew lightly, sending chills through your whole body. “eren, please” you moaned, unable to wait any longer. and that’s when you felt his mouth at your core, licking and sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves that formed your clit. your hand flew to his hair, pulling on it and gripping it so tight you felt your knuckles turn white. he paused briefly to rasp, “you’re so fucking wet for me princess” before his mouth was back on your opening, exploring every inch of it with his tongue in a way that had your toes curling and your back arching off the bed. the air was thick and hot, and you felt your pulse quicken as eren skillfully inserted his tongue in you, licking and cleaning every part of your drooling pussy. the sensation was maddening, and you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your release by the second.

eren removed a hand from your thigh, and easily slid two fingers in, pumping them in and out slowly as he sucked on your clit. you moaned at the sensation, pleasure coursing through your body. “e-eren, i’m gonna c-cum” you stuttered, unable to form a proper sentence. “mmm cum for me baby” he mumbled, high not only on the drug coursing through his veins, but also on you. and mere seconds later, you clenched around his fingers, feeling your body convulse with pleasure as you released your sweet juices all over his fingers, finally reaching your highly anticipated climax. eren lifted himself from between your thighs, sliding his fingers out of you. giving you no time to recover, he easily flipped you over with one hand, placing you on your hand and knees, and pushing your head into the mattress so your ass was up high in the air. you then felt him run his cum soaked fingers down your asshole. you felt the bed dip, watching him position himself in front of you from the corner of your eye, your head still pressed into the mattress. you felt his tongue travel from your still pulsating core all the way up to your ass, causing you to whimper incoherently, feeling him licking up all the juices he smeared on you moments earlier. this man was filthy— that you could say for sure.

you wanted, no— needed eren inside you, the pleasure from the climax finally subsiding in your body, and turning right back into that burning need. “ ‘ren please” you whined the plea, your voice breathless and erotic. “please what?” his mocking tone sent a humiliating thrum of pleasure through your body. even his mocking made you so fucking wet. “please eren, i need you inside me” you muttered in response, annoyed with his teasing. you felt him shift off the bed and do something that sounded a lot like taking off the rest of his clothes. finally. you felt the bed dip again, and you lifted yourself back onto your hands to take a peek at his cock. you couldn’t help it— you had to see what it looked like. and the sight sure didn’t disappoint, as his long, thick cock had you practically drooling. eren smirked, noticing the wide-eyed look on your face. but he let you look no longer because soon you felt your head being pushed back down into the mattress while he used his other hand to spank you, making you yelp with a mix of pain and pleasure in response. “aah- w-what was that f-for?” you asked, voice muffled by the sheets surrounding you.

“that’s for being such a fucking slut earlier” he replied, voice heavy with desire. he spanked you a couple more times, sending sharp stings into the flesh of your ass. you felt his fat tip prodding at your entrance, gliding up and down in a slow tortuous way, coating himself in your slick . he gave you no warning before he slammed into you, making you cry out. “nngh- e-eren fuck” you babbled, inhaling sharply while trying to adjust to his sheer length and girth. he was big—bigger than anyone you’d ever fucked before. he gave you a minute to adjust, relishing in the warmth of your tight walls desperately clenching around him. this is what heaven must feel like, he thought. he heard your panting slowing into longer breaths, indicating that you were mostly adjusted. he began thrusting into you with long strokes at an agonizing pace. he was teasing—you quickly learned that nothing came quick with eren, he was going to make you wait whether you liked it or not.

the pace was absolutely tantalizing. he pushed himself in and pulled himself out entirely before pushing back in again. he progressively quickened his pace, pounding into you mercilessly. eren took a hand off your hip, and entangled it in your hair pulling hard enough to lift your head off the mattress. a sob tore through your throat, the pain causing wet tears to roll down your cheeks while the intoxicating pleasure of his cock had you feeling lightheaded, almost as high as the weed made you feel. he groaned, speeding up his pace, hitting that sweet spot inside of you over and over again. the only sounds filing his room were the shallow breaths you both let out and the lewd sounds the two of you created as your bodies moved against each other, over and over again. it felt like you were being split open, his frantic pace enough to fuck you stupid. "e-eren, nngh i'm gonna- ah" you whimpered, unable to form a single coherent sentence. you heard him groan followed by him leaning close to your ear, still holding your hair and growling "what's that baby? couldn't hear you", the feeling of his hot breath on your ear sending chills down your spine.

" 'm gonna c-cum" you croaked, breathlessly. he let go of your hair, letting your head fall back to the mattress. he slowed himself down a bit, returning to that same agonizing pace from before. "come for me baby. i want to see you come all over my cock" he ordered, and you felt yourself snap free. your toes curled as you felt the familiar flame spread through your body, sending waves of pleasure through to your core as you clenched around his cock. "fuck" eren rasped, inhaling sharply and you felt his cock twitch while his body shuddered from pleasure, his release following yours. he pulled out, plopping down on the bed beside you while you flipped over to lay on your back. you were both panting, both glistening with sweat under the red-purple light of his LEDs. you spent a few minutes there in brief silence, breathing shallow breaths and coming down from the high of your orgasms.

moments later, eren got up, walking into his bathroom. he came back out a few minutes later and brought out a warm towel to clean you up. he was surprisingly gentle with you, compared to the almost feral side of him you saw mere minutes before. "you did good, princess" he said, the praise sending a warm rush of pleasure through your body. he cleaned you up, put his grey sweats back on, and picked your clothes up off the floor, bringing them to where you lay on the bed, propped up on your elbows. "do you treat all your clients this way?" you asked sarcastically, but with a hint of curiosity. you couldn't help but wonder if he did this to every girl he sold weed to. the thought of that made you feel something a little too close to jealousy. "only the ones i reallyyyy like" he joked, his tone playful. when you didn't respond, he added "you're the only one" his tone shifting to serious. "yeah okay" you replied, eyeing him suspiciously, but somehow you knew he was being serious. you sat up finally, slowly pulling your clothes back on. meanwhile, eren walked around his room, grabbing things from some of his drawers. you saw he pulled out a rolling tray, some papers and a jar of weed.

"so, how many grams did you want?" he asked, turning to look at you. right. that's why you were here in the first place. to pick up weed. and you had just fucked your new plug on the first pick up.

a/n 2: if you made it this far, thank u so much for reading. i had so much fun writing this. i'd love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to send me any thoughts or ideas into my inbox! - may

© @blessedmisery 2025.

[cassandra-collin]

I have facial dysmorphia, and I’ve booked an appointment with a psychologist for it. I’m going to do what’s called EMDR therapy.

I don’t really like going to psychologists, but my facial dysmorphia was so severe that I started having suicid@l thoughts and would spend more than three hours a day just looking at myself in the mirror, doing nothing else with my days.

I know that one of my mom’s friends once told her I was beautiful, and the son of her friend also said I had no reason to feel insecure (in a positive way). I’ve been catcalled before, and I also heard a man say, "This girl is pretty," (in french) when he saw me, talking to his friends. Even when I went out yesterday, some men stared at me (I didn’t see them, it’s my mom who told me). But every time, I just tell myself, “They were probably talking about someone else,” “They were just looking at the road,” or “They were probably only looking at my body.” (I think men focus more on my body, like the man who asked me if I did dance.)

I think people don’t realize how hard this is, especially when you don’t receive much external validation outside of social media and a few men on the street. I feel like I’ve been heavily influenced by beauty standards, and I also think some of it might come from childhood trauma.

When I was little, an ex-best friend told me I was fat (there’s nothing wrong with being fat as long as there are no health issues related to it, but it was said as if it was something bad). In middle school, I constantly compared myself to other girls, telling myself they were always thinner and cuter than me. Now I wear an XXS, and I have no issues with my body—only with how I perceive my face.

I even realized that I was telling myself harmful things that were the exact same phrases some people said to me in the past, people who were really mean to me.

When a haircut doesn’t suit me (like the bangs I got recently, which I only posted once on my Tumblr before deleting it), or when my hair is just all over the place, I react much more negatively than someone who doesn’t have facial dysmorphia.

I also have a pretty androgynous face (and an androgynous voice as well), so that adds another layer to it.

And when I see a pretty girl who says she feels ugly (and you can tell she’s being sincere when she says it), and people comment under her video saying she’s just saying that to get compliments because, to them, a beautiful person can't be that insecure, it just annoys me.

Sometimes I find my face pretty and cute, but most of the time, I think it’s too big, too androgynous, too I don’t know… And the thing I notice the most is the expression lines on my face that have become a bit more pronounced (which you can't really see or don’t see at all in my photos because of the lighting, even if it's not done on purpose).

When I post pictures of myself online, I usually ask my mom if the photos look like me because I don’t really know what I look like and I don't want to come across as a "fake." It would make me feel guilty if they didn’t look like me. The only things I allow myself to modify on my face are my pimples and slightly my dark circles (it’s like using a little concealer).

After that, I edit my photos to make them more "aesthetic" (lighting). That’s it. If I don’t look like my photos, I delete them right away and don’t post them.

I also wear glasses, so I don’t really see my "real" face (except in videos and photos), but I plan to get contact lenses. I hope that when my bangs grow back, my facial dysmorphia will lessen as well (because I felt good or better with the haircut I had before, even though I still had facial dysmorphia).

I’m healing now, even though it’s tough, and I have a lot of trauma˖⁺‧₊˚ꨄ︎

(I’m writing all of this to share my experience with facial dysmorphia and to express how serious it can be. Writing about it also helps me calm down, even though I haven’t shared everything.)

Does anyone else look in the mirror long enough and examine your features to the point where you start to get physically nauseous? Just me? Ok

[gvshing]

Roommate Vi✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

Masterlist C.W. mentions of being drunk

Roommate Vi loudly plays her games in the middle of the night. It’s 2 am and she’s screaming at 14 year olds for getting her killed in Fortnite. “Dude! What the fuck! You were supposed to cover my ass!” Is all you hear, all night long, through the paper thin walls. When she gets too loud you’re throwing pillows at the wall. Her big ass headphones planted atop her head, denting her hair into the shape of them, tuning out the sounds of quiet thumps against her wall. You eventually have to go knock on her door to tell her to keep it down around 3 am. She has work in the morning, you can’t quite wrap your head around how she plays all night and still makes it in on time. Vi will apologize, embarrassment etching her features. Though she would be lying if she said she didn’t like seeing your frazzled state standing at her bedroom door every night. Cozied into your pajamas and a blanket wrapped around you, sheltering you from the cold. She keeps it cold as hell in the apartment. She runs naturally hot so you never complain, enjoying wearing the hoodies around the apartment and the old stained sweats you’ve owned since you were a teenager. They were more comfortable than the shorts that rode up or the tank tops you were always worried would move and flash her. She loved seeing your sleepy eyes and frizzy hair from all the tossing and turning trying to tune her out. She stays quiet for as long as she can, but she has a hard time controlling her volume when she’s angry or heavily enthused. Usually, she’ll get loud about an hour after you’ve scolded her, but that works for you. By that time you’re sound asleep.

Room mate Vi comes home drunk on the weekends after nights of bar hopping with her friends you still have yet to meet. Except in passing when they’re helping her get into the apartment. You’ll do a silent exchange of taking the load of Vi’s weight into your arms, nodding and a quiet thank you slipping through your mouth before they’re gone again. You’ll pull her into the room, wrecked from her getting ready earlier. Clothes thrown all over her bed and hair products splayed across her dresser. Moving the clothes to the side, you carefully help her into bed, she throws herself the rest of the way down and cackles loudly. “Woah! Hi Y/N! When did you get here? Or me? I missed you~” In a sing-song tone she’ll realize she made it home safe once again. She cracks her eyes open into slits to glimpse you taking her shoes off. Sighing loudly as you place the shoes on the ground, she huffs in annoyance. “What could you possibly be annoyed about, Vi? I’m helping you.” You say, frustration lacing your voice. You’re not mad that she’s come home like this again, she’s still young, that’s what she’s supposed to do at this age. Still worry swirls around your chest at the thought of her friends not being there one day, but deep down you know she’ll always make it out safe. She’s strong, even shit faced drunk. And to be honest, you never mind helping her after a night of drunken adventures. It warms your heart to know you can be there for her in such an intimate way, even if her drunken self always finds something to groan and pout about. She’ll continue sighing loudly until you sit next to her lying body on the bed. Stroking her hair until she settles, “I’m going to grab you water and some medicine for when you wake up, okay?” She groans once more and throws her arms around your waist, rapidly shaking her head, holding onto you until sleep finds her. You sneak out of her room and return with the hangover remedies, softly setting them down on the nightstand and quietly exiting the room, fearful you’ll wake her up.

In the morning, she’ll wake up in a haze, quickly take the medication and gulp down the water you left for her. She’ll stumble out of her bedroom, finding you in the kitchen making breakfast. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get that drunk or make you take care of me.” She apologizes profusely, clambering over to the table to sit down, wincing at the way her head pounds harder when she sits down a bit too hard. “I never mind, Vi. You’ll feel better soon. Want breakfast?” You both sit in silence until after she finishes eating. Slowly she’ll feel better and then you’ll recount your night of babysitting her drunken persona. Secretly, she loves when you take care of her, drunken or not. And you love to be the one taking care of her. Love the feeling of being useful to her. 

Room mate Vi has a bad day at work like 70% of the time. You’re not sure why she still works there if she hates it, but she needs the money and you can understand that. She slams the door open and closes it a bit loud and viscous. Stomping to her room to scream into a pillow and punch her mattress out of anger. You hesitantly walk up to her door and knock lightly. You hear a quiet ‘come in.’ through the door and you slowly open the door and stand in the threshold. “You- What’s wrong?” Anxiety spreading through you. You’re never mad at her for getting as rough as she does when she’s mad. But, it still makes you feel uneasy. She exhales a breath of irritation. “Just a bad day. Work fucking kills me. The customers have to be having meetings in the mornings about how they’re all going to come in and ruin my day. Like they have to be. It’s insane.” You give her a look of sympathy and walk over to her desk chair. “I’m sorry. Tell me about it?” She’ll rant for an hour about how every customer was rude, obnoxious or stupid. Ending it feeling better about her day having gotten it out of her system. You truly make her feel at ease.

Room mate Vi and you reserve Sunday nights to hang out together. Usually cozying up in the living room, a shared blanket and too many snacks for one night, a movie playing on the TV. Every Sunday you trade off who gets to pick the movie. Vi usually picks an action movie or a romcom that she makes you promise not to tell anyone she enjoys. You taunt her with the threat of telling whatever friend that brings her home that week and she’ll tickle you until you can’t breathe and you’re promising over and over you won’t actually tell anyone. She settles back into her spot and gleams with triumph. Throughout the night you guys always find yourself moving closer to the other until you’re practically cuddling. Snuggled into her side and her arm thrown around the back of the couch, that’ll eventually get tired of being up there and trail down to being wrapped around your shoulders instead. You fall asleep like that and she gently scoops you up and brings you to your room. Tucking you into bed, she’ll push your hair back behind your ear and lean down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. She tells herself it’s normal to feel the way she does with you. You’re friends after all. She walks out of your room and softly closes the door. She stands in front of your door for a minute and catches her breath, waiting for her heart to slow down back to its normal pace. She just likes being around you. Nothing more, you’re a good friend. She finds herself staring at you, often, yeah. Friends do that. Catching herself missing you when you walk away, and imagines kissing you, more than she probably should, it happens, it’s normal. Yeah, friends feel that way sometimes. Sure.

Room mate Vi who isn’t able to convince herself she doesn’t like you when you come home one day, giddy about a first date you have that night. She starts feeling a searing jealousy rising in her. She can’t push it away and she’s pouting all day long. Sending you off with just a “Yeah, have fun. Be safe.” when you’re leaving. It leaves you perplexed, her sudden coldness. She sits at home, brooding, the rest of the night until you’re home. When she sees the look of disappointment on your face, she feels her heart leap. She feels bad for finding joy in your disappointment, but she can’t help herself. “Are you okay? Date not go well?” She hears the eagerness in her voice and inwardly winces. You huff and trudge to the couch, throwing yourself on it. You lay across her lap and stare up the ceiling. She strokes your hair and raises her eyebrows. A soft ‘hm?’ sound leaves her throat. “It wasn’t bad, but there just wasn’t any chemistry. I feel bad. I was so excited but she was so bland. I almost feel like she did it on purpose to drive me away. Maybe she didn’t want to go out and was just being nice when she said yes… I don’t know.” you sigh in defeat and toss yourself around to shove your face into her lap, shading your face away from her. She exhales softly and clears her throat, unease setting in. “Maybe? I doubt it. I bet she was just boring. Who wouldn’t want to go on a date with you? You’re so pretty and funny.” You snort in amusement. Twisting around to face her again. “You’re just saying that because you have to. But, I appreciate it.” She stares at you in disbelief. “I’m not just saying that, babe. You are a catch, people should feel blessed to be in your company. Let alone in such an intimate way.” You stare at her, unable to convince yourself that she’s being real. “Thanks, Vi. I appreciate you. It was just disappointing, but my feelings aren’t hurt.” She nods in a solemn agreement. She swallows her anxiety and reaches over to grab your hand. You interlock fingers and smile down at your connected hands. “Go on a date with me. I’ll show you what a good time with someone who values you, should feel.” You choke on your spit when you hear her say that and sit up fast. “What? I-” you stare at her and she continues staring at you, confidence spilling out from her. “Come on. It’ll be fun.” She smiles mischievously. “Uh.. Okay. Fine. If you want to, you don’t have to do that just because you feel bad for me. That’ll make me feel worse.” You trail off and she shakes her head, chuckling lightly. “I mean it. I was going to ask you either way.” You laugh loudly and throw yourself back into her lap, covering your blushing face.

Room mate Vi plans the most thoughtful dates. A picnic with your favorite foods, stay at home movie night with a fort she made herself, though it looks janky and falls down a few times, surprise beach days. By the end of every date you share, your cheeks hurt from smiling so much, feeling like you did a thousand sit ups from the pain of laughing too much and butterflies making a home in your chest. She always makes you feel that deserving feeling she preached to you. With her it felt easy, it made sense. And you felt silly for not seeing it earlier. It felt obvious that you both would be a good match together, but yet it took you so long. And it took her asking you. What if she didn’t say anything? Would you be living your life going on mediocre dates until the end of time? Either way, you’re glad you don’t have to do that. Glad you have each other.

Girlfriend Vi adores you and never goes a day without telling you how pretty and smart you are. She loves to see you shy away from her, loves to see your coy smile. You continue your Sunday movie nights, but with more kisses and cuddling now. You go with her on the weekends to watch how she gets herself to that point of drunken-ness. But, you’re the one taking her home now, not just tucking her in. You’re cuddling into bed next to her now. Her warmth radiates off her, no need for blankets when you have her to warm up. You wake up to her head shoved into your chest, arms wrapped around you and legs locking you in place. She snores lightly, peacefully resting off her hangovers, hard work days or rough workouts. You kiss her on the top of her head and snuggle closer into her, closing your eyes to drift off into that same peaceful rest. Feeling thankful you’ll never have to live without her or her calming presence. Even when she’s mad. 

[gay-dorito-dust]

Could I request some platonic batboys comforting their bestie after the bestie has to break up with someone? Going through it rn </3

I got you! Fuck your ex partner if they were a dick to you, fuck them for breaking your heart and you will come out of this with a healed heart and a sense of self because you deserve everything and everything! I also added Bruce as a bonus.

Dick would have you come over to his house, saying that Hayley was ready to also help you heal pass this relationship, all the while putting the dog into your lap and encouraging you to cuddle the blue staffy because Hayley was there to provide extra comfort beside him.

Dick had been through relationships himself and would offer the most advice to you in your time of need the best out of all the boys, he understands how your feeling in the moment, as if your life was coming to an end but he would remind you that’s not the case and that you were just not use to being independent.

‘You might feel like you’re dying right now, but you won’t feel that for long.’ He says as he rests a hand on your shoulder. ‘you’ve just grown a custom to being with someone that being without them feels as though you can’t function but I’m here to tell you that you can. You were independent before and you’ll be independent again. So I wouldn’t fret about things that’ll soon become irrelevant.’ He adds as he presses you against his side, kissing your forehead like he always did when he needed to calm your racing mind.

‘Okay?’ He asks as he looks you in the eye, smiling. ‘We’ll take care of you won’t we Hayley?’ He then looks at his dog who had long fallen asleep on your lap, letting out a little snort as you both laughed at the cuteness of Hayley and the hilarity of the moment. Dick would make sure that you were getting out and would have you come on walks with him and Hayley, or just getting coffee together, anything he can do in order to help you realise that just because your relationship didn’t work out it didn’t mean that you have to give up being happy all tighter.

You can be happy on your own as you can be happy in a relationship, you’ve just gotta find the right people to be happy independent alongside with.

Jason would also solicit similar advice as Dick, seeing as he’s been in a few relationships himself, telling you that you might feel as though you’ve lost apart of yourself but in reality it was you hiding that part of yourself in fear of your true self being rejected.

‘Such isn’t what a relationship should be, you should see each other for your best and worst, not just one or the other and you should feel comfortable being yourself with them too.’ He says to you as he throws his arm over your shoulder as you both overlooked Gotham together becuase you couldn’t enjoy the stars with all the light pollution. ‘You’ll get back up on your feet sooner or later but for now eat your food before it goes cold.’ He then scolds as he gestures to the food he had made for you before dragging you to the rooftops for fresh air.

He wants the bash the idiots head in, but he knew you needed a shoulder to cry on right now and that’s what Jason will do, for you were in a vulnerable headspace and were prone to doing stupid stuff; and Jason felt it was his duty to make sure you took care of yourself properly and would do things that you didn’t or couldn’t do if the breakup hit your mental health hard.

Jason would make sure that you and your ex’s paths never cross as he acts as a blockade between you both, having much against the ex for being a uncaring bastard for hurting you while making sure your day went by undisturbed by anything or anyone. He’s looking out for you and most of your time is spent either in a bookstore or in his apartment, where you two would watch shitty reality television, before making predictions on who’ll get kicked out tomorrow nights episode.

Damian

‘Shall I end them for breaking your heart?’ He says as he puts a hand on your shoulder, obviously not use to being the one to comfort another, but with the help of Dick he hoped he was being at least somewhat comforting for you in your time of need.

You raise a hand to pat his hand on your shoulder, weakly chuckling at the seriousness of his tone, for while he might say it out of a need to bring you some assurance that he will be by your side. Damian wasn’t one to half ass his words and was most likely not joking about taking out your ex boyfriend for breaking your heart. ‘Thanks but no thanks dami.’

‘You’re better off without them. They were weak and couldn’t keep up with you, they were intimidated by your presence and how you easily prove yourself as a powerful individual who can look out for themselves and was scared of your power.’ Damian replies as he sits down next to you, setting aside his sword as he has Titus draped across your lap and Ace lounge next to your side, knowing how much you loved the dogs as much as he did.

And you know he’s not lying becuase Damian saw no point in lying to you, it’s ridiculous and serves no purpose whatsoever other then to guard another persons feelings, nope Damian says it as it is and needles to say he didn’t like your ex and now they’ve proved that feeling he had right by breaking your heart. While you said that he couldn’t kill him, Damian would oh most definitely stand outside their window menacingly without really trying.

However until he gets the opportunity to scare the shit out of your ex, he’s by your side with you throughout your healing journey as you realise that Damian wasn’t joking about you and your power. Your heart might break but it’s still beating and to Damian you alleys proven you were stronger then your ex ten times over. Hell you might even spar if you’ve got some anger to let out…Damian will use this as an excuse just to say;

‘Imagine their face and attack with everything you’ve got until there’s nothing left.’

Damian is an advocate for expressing how you fell in whatever form you can available to you, whether it’s through art, writing, music or otherwise just let it all out because how can you feel better when your repressing your emotions; thus hindering your own healing.

Tim has ice cream, your beloved fluffy blankets, your favourite show and or movie queued up on his computer with take out on the way the moment you had told him the news of your break up.

He doesn’t waste time and tells you to put on your most comfortable clothes because you were staying over the night to recover from a rather lacklustre relationship, away from someone who didn’t deserve you in the slightest, though this is very dependant on what relationship you had with your ex partner but the message remained the same with Tim: movie night with a side of gossip session where you shit talk about your ex partner and their glaring red flags now you were out of that mess.

Seriously by the end of the night you are no longer crying tears of sadness but tears of laughter every time Tim had something to say about your ex partner, easily roasting them into oblivion while your grasping at your stomach as it ached pleasantly, before joining in on the roasting yourself by giving him some insider information that his hacking skills could never give him.

Bruce ‘I’m rich’ Wayne who takes you out on shopping sprees to heal your heart by attempting to make a dent in his wallet.

After all what wouldn’t heal the heart faster than spending ridiculous amounts of money on comfort foods, items and clothing of various kinds.

Seriously this man will tell you to get the biggest, most expensive jellycat plushy the shop had, only to tell you to get like two more of similar sizes before gifting you his card and telling you to go nuts on what you want. That or he’d buy you it himself when he sees how hesitant you are with sending his money, quickly to pick up the things you side eye for too long or wince at the price tag of and buying it in bulk for you without hesitation.

He’s treating you to a expensive dinner afterwards with expensive drinks being brought to your table bottle by bottle along with good food, not that Bruce cared in the slightest as the night was far from over for the both of you, far from it as by the end of the night you would’ve completely forgotten about your ex when your rich friend spoils you rotten.

No friend of Bruce’s will cry over a broke loser, this man will remind you of your worth but in a less threading way like a certain son would, even if the encouragement was there in spirit.

[dfstolenart]

Home With You | Criminal Minds

.・゜✭・. Spencer Reid x F!Reader .・゜✭・.

Summary: After a long and emotionally exhausting day, you come home feeling overwhelmed from the weight of your job but luckily your sweet loving boyfriend is there to comfort you.

A/N: so cuteeeee, love this one. Lmk your thots<33

BYR (B4 u Reid): sweet Spencer!, hard day at work, hints at abuse, child gets taken away, sad reader, sweet talk, flirting and feeling of not being enough. | kissing <— [warnings]

Your home was dimly lit when you entered the smell of a vanilla candle filled your nose, and your boyfriend was on the couch with a book on his lap

The weight of the day still pressing on your shoulders, you shut the door quietly behind you and drop your bag down with little care to where it lands

The exhaustion isn’t just physical, it sits in your bones heavy and aching, like the stories you’ve heard today, the ones you can’t unhear. The ones that make you question if you’re even making a difference.

You forget you’re standing in the middle of the entry way until a soft gentle voice pull you out “You’re late.”

He’s still sat on the couch only this time his eyes are on you scanning your face the way he does when he profiles a suspect “I know.” You murmur as you kick off your shoes “Didn’t expect to be.”

You make your way towards him, and he quickly closes his book moving it to the side of him “Come here.” He softly says as he pulls you onto his lap “tough day?”

The laugh that leaves you is hallow “That’s one way to put it.” Before you can say anything else Spencer’s hand is cupping your face, his thumbs brushing lightly over your cheekbones

His touch is grounding, pulling you back from the spiral you feel yourself slipping into.

“Want to talk about it?”

You shake your head “not yet”

He nods, understanding in his eyes “okay”

You rest your head on him, and grab his hands interlacing them together

For a while neither of you speak. The silence is comfortable, a stark contrast to the chaos in your mind. But Spencer is patient, he always is. He knows you’ll talk when you’re ready. Eventually you break the silence, your voice barely above a whisper.

“There was a little boy today. Six years old. His mom.. she” your voice cracked “She wasn’t a monster, Spencer. She wasn’t some evil person, but she was sick, and he was the one paying for it.” You feel his arms tighten around you, and he presses a soft gentle kiss to the side of your head “I’m sorry” he murmurs

“I had to take him away. He cried the whole time for his mommy, telling me she didn’t mean it trying to convince me to take him back home.” Your eyes stung with tears and you squeeze them shut “I know I did the right thing, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

Spencer sighed, and squeezed your hand “Do you know how many times I’ve asked myself if I’ve done the right thing? If all of us at the BAU have? We don’t always get happy endings. Sometimes we don’t even get closure, But what keeps me going, what keeps us all going is knowing that we tried. That we did everything we could.”

You met his gaze, searching for something understanding, reassurance. And you find it.

His hand leaves yours to brush a tear from your cheek “That little boy… he might not understand now, but one day, he will. And because of you he’ll have a chance at something better.”

You let out a shaky breath

“I just feel like I’m suffocating sometimes, like no matter how much I do it’s never enough for these kids. I want to do more for them, i wish I could just take all their pain from them.”

Spencer pulled you in closer to him “you’re doing more than enough.” You close your eyes allowing yourself to believe him, even if it’s just for tonight.

“I love you” you whisper

“I love you too.” He says, holding you tighter, as if he could shield you from all the darkness in the world.

Spencer holds you against him for a long time, his fingers tracing absentminded patterns along your arm. His warmth, his presence, it’s enough to keep you tethered even when your mind still lingers on the weight of the day

“You know.” He murmurs, his voice lighter now, teasing “cuddling releases oxytocin, which reduces stress and promotes emotional bonding. So technically I am scientifically proven to be good for you.”

You both look at each other smiles both plastered on your faces “oh, is that so Dr. Reid?”

“Mhm” he hums clearly pleased with himself “Also prolonged physical affection can also lower blood pressure and improve someone’s overall mood. So, really, I’d be doing you a disservice if I let you go.”

Amusement flickered through your tired eyes “To me, that sounds like an excuse to keep me in your arms.”

He smirked “It’s science. Don’t argue against it.”

You shake your head rolling your eyes “I think you just like having me close.”

“I do” he admits easily, his voice dropping just slightly sending a shiver down your spine, his fingers continue to trail lightly up and down your arm “You’re warm, you smell good and well I’m very fond of you.”

“Fond of me?” You raised an eyebrow “You’re supposed to be utterly obsessed with me.”

He let out a small laugh “what if I say I’m completely, hopelessly in love with you? That I think about you every second we’re apart, and when you’re not in my arms, I wish you were.”

Your breath catches, your heart flutters you feel so special to hear these words come from the man in front of you “That's better.” you say

Spencer leans in, brushing his nose against yours before pressing a gentle kiss against your lips. It's slow, lingering, and so sweet

Then he pulls back, you feel empty without his lips on yours “Then i’ll remind you every day for as long as I live.” your heart swelled

“You're really good at this whole comforting thing.” You smile as you rest your forehead against his, he grins “Well I do have an IQ of 18-”

“Shut up” you cut him off with a desperate kiss . . .

[doggrowth]

Omggg you get it. OP, you’re so right about the metamorphosis aspects!!! The butterfly motifs all across the show are so there and beautiful. I didn’t quite put it together exactly as you did (the idea of the hard exoskeleton shield) so I’m so excited and happy you pointed it out. But I definitely resonated with the themes of loneliness (as evident by everything I say below lmao) Viktor fears loneliness SO MUCH.

It breaks my heart because I firmly believe that Viktor liked having Sky around in those months in the commune. That he liked her excitement to their work. I think she reminded him of Jayce.

And it breaks my heart because she’s not real. It’s a facade, the Hexcore speaking to the “weak” parts of Viktor that still exist within him, the part that doesn’t want to be doing this work alone.

And when he has to let her go to evolve it’s so sad. He looks so sad. In the scene with The Line his hands are shaking trying to hold onto Sky. The lyrics repeat “Stay with me”, he so scared to be alone but he knows he has to let go. Of her and Jayce.

And then he doesn’t suddenly become good in the end because “he realizes what he’s doing is wrong” and “free will is good.” He learns that his goal, the glorious evolution results in nothing. Nothing for everybody. Nothing for him. Fields of dreamless solitude.

Jayce could’ve said “nooo don’t do this it’ll kill everyone” and it wouldn’t have worked. He needed to see that this is pointless. He needed to see that as much as he thinks he can let go of his emotions, he can’t. That at the end of the day he’s lonely. He wants to be loved.

And he is.

there's meta to be had about just how much of viktor's arc is about loneliness and the blatant visuals they use in his evolution about metamorphosis, butterflies, cocoons, in utero, etc, as he molts from a soft, vulnerable larva who keeps getting hurt in his bids for love and acceptance, into a hardened final form complete with an exoskeleton acting as both physical and emotional armor. a shield keeping his emotions in and the pain of loneliness and rejection out, until it's cracked and his humanity is forcefully exposed. like. sorry if it's just the entomologist in me but this was blatantly obvious the very first time i watched the show and I've been continually surprised that no one's really pointed this out. as a certified lonely person it struck such a deep cord with me, when he accepted his fate, his path ahead, to be one he'd have to walk alone, finally putting up that last seemingly impenetrable wall around his soft parts (but keeping the blanket, this signal that he never asked for this, and that he's not unreachable). So much of his s2 arc centered around not just his desire to right his wrongs and help the world, but to connect with others and not feel alone, both of which got twisted by the hexcore. His attempt to create a hivemind where no one would ever suffer loneliness or rejection or loss, and he would feel their souls with him as well (even though that was an illusion in the end, he truly believed it). The whole 'I now speak with all their voices' but he's just floating in an empty space. And for the consequence of the glorious evolution to be eternal solitude, it just drives home how that's the worst possible fate imaginable for Viktor.

[rauspberries]

purple lace bra. [ hear what you like and none of the rest! ] ׂ╰┈➤ a lawyer!aaron hotchner x paralegal!reader fic. ׂ╰┈➤ so close to what series masterlist. paralegal!reader masterlist. ׂ╰┈➤ next chapter.

summary: tired of being underestimated and pushed aside because of your gender, you rant to your boss about it. needless to say, he won't let it happen again. tags/warnings: afab reader, no use of y/n and no physical description of reader, protective aaron hotchner, mentions of gross men and misogyny in the workplace word count: 2k notes: first fic of the 'so close to what' series!!! i'm so excited to write all of this. its going to get sooooo mouth-watering. hey @reidswrld

“Hey, sweetheart, did you get those files on the Watson case? I’m trying to get the case done before lunch so I can head out.” As the prosecutor talks, he hangs the entire upper half of his body into your office, a shit-eating grin on his face as he lets his eyes study you in a way that has you squirming in your seat.

You were used to the pet names. It had been a common habit among the majority of the prosecutors in the district attorney’s office to refer to you as anything but your actual name, laying it on thick with nicknames such as sweetheart, honey, and doll, no matter how much you gently reminded them that they could just call you by your name. Unfortunately for you, their words could be brushed off as simple kindness, making it not officially an HR problem.

Also, as a woman in a male-dominated workplace, it was to be expected. Every other female student in your law classes had to work twice as hard as their male counterparts to get noticed by male professors or to prove that their opinions are worth hearing. And god forbid they wore a skirt that was just a little bit shorter than right above the knee. You couldn’t count on your two hands the amount of times you had seen one of your peers staring at the singular undone button at the top of your blouse while you were attempting to argue your side of a mock trial.

Pasting on a smile, you raise your head to glance at the prosecutor, grabbing a file off of the corner of your desk and holding it out. “Right here. Although, I did have a note, if you’d like to hear it.” You bite the inside of your cheek after speaking, already knowing the reaction you’d get. Men didn’t like to be proven wrong.

A scoff comes from the man as he steps a bit more into your office, crossing his arms over his chest. “Sure, why not? Always willing to try new things.” No, he’s not. He’s had the same thing for lunch the past week. Your smile wavers for just a moment, however you manage to keep going strong. “I dug a little deeper into the finances of the defendant’s family. He was taking out the same large sum of money from his bank account every month, usually around the same day. It might be worth following.”

He pretends to contemplate it before laughing, arms unfolding to grab the file out of your hand. “Well, sweetheart, I’m a lawyer, not an accountant. If I wanted to dig into money, I would’ve become a banker. But thanks for the file.” He raises the folder in his hand as a goodbye, still chuckling beneath his breath as he turns and walks out of your office.

As soon as he’s gone, your friendly smile drops, replaced with a scowl. Irritation prickled at your skin like fire ants, causing you to take a deep inhale through your nose and a slow exhale through your lips. Yeah. You were over it.

In a flash, you’re out of your seat, grabbing a stack of papers off of your desk and exiting your office. It takes you not even two minutes to get down the hall, turning into Aaron’s office with a knock on the doorframe.

“All of the evidence, witness statements and backgrounds you’ve asked from me. Also, Hallbrook stared my boobs for a record of forty-seven seconds this morning and Lawson thinks I am an idiot that grew on the dumbest tree in the forest.” The words are spilling out of your mouth so fast that you have to take a breath afterwards, flopping down in the chair across from his desk ungracefully right after you’ve laid everything right in front of him.

Aaron doesn’t respond for a moment, glancing up at you through his eyelashes as the crease in his brow slowly grows deeper. Slowly, he rises to sit up straight, grabbing the stack you had left and setting it to the side. “Good morning. Can you say that again, but slower this time, so I can understand you?” The corner of his lip twitches in amusement, hands folding together in front of him.

His amusement just causes you to roll your eyes, crossing your leg over your knee to show some decorum as you huff like a petulant child. “Do you think I’m good at my job, sir?” You question, realizing that spilling out every act of sexual harrassment towards you probably wasn’t the best approach.

“You know I do.” The mirth fades from his face, replaced with genuine concern. “Did someone make you feel like you aren’t good at your job?” There’s a tenseness to his voice, a tautness to his shoulders, that immediately makes you want to crawl into your skin and hide there. You feel like you’ve tattled to the principal.

Aware of your rigid posture, you let your shoulders relax. “It’s not that big of a deal, I’m used to it by now,” you mumble, feeling oddly sheepish underneath his stern gaze.

Aaron stands up from his chair, dropping the pen in his hand onto the desk as he makes his way around it. Once he’s standing next to you, he leans his back against it, looking down at you. “Used to what? Explain.” It’s an instruction, not an ask. You’ve opened this can of worms and now it’s time to lie in it.

“The comments that brush me off. The staring at any piece of skin I leave uncovered. The using me as a personal assistant rather than a paralegal.” Despite the uncomfortableness of being so close to him, his gaze picking apart everything about you, you find yourself explaining everything to him. You blamed it on the effect his dark eyes have on you. The way he looked at you had always been different than how everyone else looked at you. It dug into your skin, peeled you apart layer by layer, revealed your deepest secrets before they even came out of your mouth.

After recounting what had happened that morning with Lawson, he is silent for a moment. You can practically hear your heartbeat as you look at him, wondering if he’d tell you to just suck it up and move on or storm out of his office to start a riot. Then, he speaks, his tone still calm. “Let me know the next time any of it happens. I want to know about any inappropriate glances, any brush-off comments. I’ll handle it.” Then, he’s sitting up, moving back around to his chair. “Go have yourself some lunch and then come see me. I have a few things for you to handle.”

His dismissive tone has you standing up, nodding. “Yes, sir.” Without another word, you scurry out of his office, ready to cool your head over some trashy food from a fast-food joint.

By the time your stomach is full and you’ve inhaled some only-metaphorically-fresh Virginia air, you’re feeling a ton better. You chalk up your former irritation to just being hangry, your posture straightened and your clothes not as ruffled as before. Nothing could get in your way, could stop you from kicking ass at any task thrown at you for the rest of your too-long shift. 

Until one of the interns stops you with a hand on your bicep, immediately flashing you a bright smile. From what you remember, his name is Theo. That’s the only thing you know about him, other than the fact that he was an intern from one of the law schools nearby. You only knew that because you were extremely well-versed in everything happening in the office, in each level of the hierarchy. Aaron was constantly amazed at all of the gossip you provided him without him asking. 

“Hey! You’re a paralegal, right?” He asks, the smile on his face blinding. He looks nice enough, mussy curled hair falling onto his forehead, soft and gentle eyes. If you hadn’t realized your affinity for older men, you’d think of him as handsome.

You nod, tucking the files in your hand to your chest as you subtly push off the hand on your bicep with a shrug of your shoulders. “Yeah. Can I help you with something?” You keep your tone light and polite, even when Theo ruins his good vibes by his gaze averting temporarily to your chest. The pretty ones are always the grossest.

His charming smile doesn’t falter as his eyes move back to glance at yours. “You can, actually, if it’s not too much of a bother.” You don’t have the heart to tell him that you’re too busy, enough things stacked on your plate, so you urge him to continue with a raise of your brow. “Wooledge, you know him?” Of course you do. You know everything. “He asked me to dredge up some old case files for precedent of a case of ours. I heard you’re good at finding everything quicker than anyone and he also asked me for what feels like eight million things.” 

Theo finishes his statement with laying his hand on your shoulder again, thumb brushing against your collarbone. If his hand were someone else’s, it’d be a reassuring touch. But right now, it’s just uncomfortable, extremely infuriating.

Your own smile twitches, threatening to fall. You don’t have time to do someone else’s work, much less something they applied to do. A district attorney intern’s job was solely this. Look into law stuff, gather law stuff, assist prosecutors. It was to prepare them to become a lawyer. You’d kill to be here as an intern, not a paralegal, one step closer to being an actual lawyer.

Luckily, you don’t have to answer him, because a deep voice behind you does it for you. “She will not be doing your work. If your workload is too much, you aren’t fit to become a lawyer and you should quit your internship now.” You can feel him over your shoulder, leering at Theo from behind you, even without glancing up at him. Instead, you let your gaze avert to the ground, cheeks rushing with heat at both embarrassment and the closeness of him.

“And if I catch your eyes looking down one more time, I will personally walk you to HR and ensure you aren’t allowed to any law firm or district attorney’s office in this country.” Aaron’s voice turns more hostile the more he speaks, his nice shoes scuffing the ground as his shoulder presses up against yours. “Now, get your hand off of her and go find those cases. I’ll let Wooledge know he can expect them within the hour.”

Bless his heart, Theo looks frightened, staring up at Aaron with wide eyes. He then glances down at his hand, like he had forgotten it was on your shoulder, pulling it back like it had been set on fire and shoving it in his pocket. Clearing his throat, he dips his head. “Sir.” Then, he turns around, walking away as quick as he can while trying his hardest not to look like he had just been told off.

After he’s gone and around the corner, a hand gently encloses over your hip, a ghost of a touch but very much there, very much turning your brain to static. “You okay?” He keeps his volume low, a murmur in your ear as his focus burns into the side of your head.

Slowly, you turn to face him, his fingers falling off of you at the movement. “Yeah, fine. Could’ve handled that myself.”

Smug bastard he is, his lips quirk up in a smirk, dark eyes glimmering in amusement. “No, you couldn’t. You were gonna tell him yes.” Then, he reaches up, his finger twirling to trap a strand of hair around it before giving it a soft tug. “Plus, you shouldn’t have to. You don’t have to prove your strength. I already know how strong you are.” 

Letting go of your hair, he doesn’t give you time to recover from your slight shock, his hand patting at your hip for a brief second. The touch is so quick that you barely have time to realize it happened before he’s walking away, calling over his shoulder. “Come on. Your lunch break’s over. Cases won’t close themselves.”

[candycandy00]

Once Upon a Time - A Toji x Reader Fanfic Part 2

Retold fairytales featuring the JJK men! This is Snow White featuring Toji! You live in a snowy village and have a crush on your handsome neighbor Toji, unaware that he’s been hired by the queen to kill you.

Part 1 | Part 2

Read Choso x Rapunzel Here!

Read Sukuna x Sleeping Beauty Here!

Read Gojo x Cinderella Here!

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Reader as Snow White. Age gap (Reader is early 20’s, Toji is mid 30’s). Rough sex. Slight size difference kink. Death of side characters.

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more and @benkeibear!

You awake the next morning to the sound of a fire crackling. For a moment, you wonder how your father managed to tend the fire without your help, then you remember you’re not at home.

Rising up from the rug on the floor, you first notice Toji’s coat falling from your shoulders. Then you notice that you’re naked beneath it. Oh. So that really happened. It wasn’t just another of your dreams. 

You find your dress a few feet away and begin pulling it over your head and tying the laces at the front. A sound comes from behind you, and you turn to see Toji in the kitchen area, standing over the small stove. There’s a kettle being heated. 

“Thought I’d make us some coffee,” he says.

You nod numbly, still processing the night before as you look around. The cabin looks different in the light of day spilling in through the two main windows. What seemed warm and cozy last night looks gray and dull today. 

Looking out a window, you see that the storm is over. There’s no snow, no wind, only the silence that follows a blizzard as the woods are buried under a blanket of heavy white. Trudging through that snow will be difficult, but you feel certain you and Toji can do it. 

You join him at the small table, taking a warm cup and letting it heat your hands for a moment before taking a sip. 

Toji takes a drink of his own, then sits his cup on the table. “We need to talk.”

You look up in alarm. His tone is serious enough to make you worry. Is this going to be the part where he ultimately rejects you? Tells you last night was fun but it can never happen again? 

Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself and say, “Okay. What do we need to talk about?”

The next words out of his mouth are the last ones you expected. 

“What’s your connection to the queen?”

You blink. “The queen? I’ve never met her.”

He leans slightly over the table, toward you. “Are you sure? Think really hard. Maybe you met her when you were a kid.”

You find yourself drawing back a little from the table, unsure of where he’s going with these questions. “If I ever met her, I don’t remember it,” you say. “Why would you think I have a connection to the queen?”

“Because she hired me to kill you.”

You freeze. What did he just say? Surely you heard him wrong. “Huh?”

His eyes are focused on yours, trapping you in his steely gaze. “The queen hired me to kill you. She told me to make it messy, so it seems personal.”

Your heart begins racing, a spike of fear shooting through you as the warm mug in your hand begins to tremble. You sit it down on the table, nearly spilling it, then look toward the door of the cabin. Could you make it out? 

“Relax,” he tells you. “If I was gonna go through with it, you never would’ve woken up this morning.”

Your eyes return to his face. In a small, shaky voice, you ask, “Why didn’t you?”

His serious expression relaxes a little. “I just decided I like you better alive than dead.”

Hearing him say that calms your nerves a bit. It’s true that it would have been incredibly easy to kill you while you slept, so if Toji was going to murder you, he would have done it then. 

“But why would she want me dead?” you ask. 

Toji leans back against his chair. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. At first I thought it was because you’re prettier than her, but-“

“I am?”

He almost smiles at you. “According to her weird magic mirror anyway.”

Now you’re even more confused. “She has a magic mirror?”

“Yeah. Every day she asks it to show the most beautiful woman in the kingdom. A couple days ago it showed you.”

You feel yourself blushing. Are you that beautiful? You’ve never seen yourself that way, and you don’t recall getting any extra attention in the village. You wonder if Toji agrees with the mirror, but you’re too shy to ask. 

Apparently he can take a hint. 

“I don’t know about the whole kingdom, but you’re definitely a lot more beautiful than the queen,” he says. 

The comment makes your heart skip a beat, but you don’t have time to focus on that. You look up as Toji continues what he was going to say. 

“It’s not just the mirror,” he tells you. “She called you a threat to her rule, then referred to you as a loose end. There’s some connection there.”

Your mind is racing. You’ve never met the queen, unless it was before you were old enough to remember. But why would you have ever met her? “I should ask my father,” you say. “He might know something.”

Toji shakes his head. “It’s a bad idea for you to go back to the village. The queen will have people watching.”

“But I can’t just hide here! My father is ill. He can’t make it on his own. Please, take me back to the village just for a little while, so I can check on him and ask someone to look after him while I’m gone.”

Toji looks at you, at your determined, worried expression, then sighs. “Fine. I’ll take you back, but you can’t stay long. If you wanna live, you’re gonna have to hide out for a while.”

You stand up from the table and move over to hug Toji, who doesn’t hug you back but doesn’t pull away. “Thank you.”

After pulling on your cloak, gloves, boots, and scarf, you join Toji outside the cabin, who is looking out over the forest. “I don’t think anyone followed us here,” he says. “The weather was probably too bad.”

You nod, taking his word for it. The snow is much thicker than the night before, all traces of your footprints long gone. Trudging through this to get back to the village won’t be easy, but you have to do it. You have to check on your father, and ask if he knows about some connection to the queen. 

The trek back is a quiet one. Toji doesn’t talk much, and you feel a bit awkward. Last night you felt so close to him, but today he seems so distant. Did he lure you to the cabin to kill you? If so, what made him change his mind? Was it your love confession? Or the sex? So many questions haunt your mind as you move through the woods. 

When you reach the village, it looks mundane compared to the wild revelations you’ve had this morning. Most villagers are inside, probably huddling around their fireplaces. A few of the men are working to make walking paths through the thick blanket of snow, a couple are hauling firewood into their homes, and a group of children are playing by tossing snowballs at each other. 

It’s all so very normal, you feel perfectly at ease as you open the door to your house and shake the snow from your cloak. You pull off your gloves as you walk through the living area, noting that the fire is going strong. The neighbor must have added more wood last night before leaving. You hear Toji step inside behind you and close the door, but he doesn’t follow you as you make your way to your father’s room. 

Until you scream. 

Because your father is lying in his bed, a sword standing straight up, impaled through his stomach and pinning him to the straw mattress. Blood has soaked the covers and now drips from the bed, making a small pool on the floor. 

Toji rushes into the room, then immediately pulls you into his arms. “Don’t look,” he says, one strong hand rubbing your back. 

After a few seconds, he pulls away and says, “Let me go see what happened.”

You nod, keeping your face turned away as he goes over to examine the scene. Tears are flooding your eyes, no matter how much you wipe them away with your hands. “Who could do this?!” you cry. “He was just a sick old man! He never hurt a soul!”

You hear Toji’s voice from across the room. “This is a standard issue sword for royal guards. The queen must have ordered-“

His voice cuts off, and before you can question it, you hear his footsteps approaching quickly. Then all at once he’s standing right in front of you, his hands firm on your shoulders. 

“Listen very carefully,” he says, looking at you intently. “Your father is still breathing. He looks like he wants to see you. But he is dying. There’s nothing we can do to stop that.”

Your eyes shift over to the grisly scent once again. You nod weakly to Toji, but you can’t stop the hope blooming in your heart. He’s not dead yet! Maybe… maybe you can do something to help him! 

Carefully, with Toji by your side, you step over to the bed. Your father is staring up at you, and his eyes tear up. “My darling…” he whispers, reaching one trembling hand toward your face. 

You grab his hand and hold it tightly, kneeling down to hear him better. “I’m here, father!”

“I have to tell you… who you are…”

“It’s okay! Don’t strain yourself, please!”

His eyes focus in on you, and he seems to gain a bit of strength in his determination to speak to you. “You were born… to the former king and queen… my closest friends…”

You freeze. “What?”

“Your mother died in childbirth… that was true. Your father… wanted a mother for you… so he married the current queen. He died… only two months later.”

Tears are overflowing from your eyes. “You’re my father!”

He smiles, but squeezes your hand and goes on. “The new queen ordered your death… but I begged her… to spare you. She agreed, if I would take you to a remote village… and never tell anyone the truth. You were barely taking your first steps… so I resigned as royal advisor… and raised you as my own.”

Your father pauses and coughs, blood speckling the collar of his shirt. “She broke the agreement,” he says desperately, his grip on your hand tightening. “She fears you will claim… your rightful place as queen! She will come for you!”

Suddenly he lifts his free hand and points toward the dresser on the other side of the bed. “There… in the bottom drawer!”

You press your lips to his forehead. “I understand! I heard you! I’ll be careful and I won’t let the queen kill me!”

A look of relief passes over his pained face. “I was… so proud… to be your father.”

You smile through your tears. “I and I have felt so fortunate to be your daughter!”

A second later, his grip goes slack, his hand sliding from yours and dropping at his side. His eyes are closed now, and you know they will never open again. 

You let out a sob, collapsing across his bed, just above the sword, not caring that blood is staining your dress. 

Minutes pass with no sound in the room but your cries, until you hear Toji’s voice again. You almost forgot he was here. 

“I’m sorry, but we have to go. If you want to keep your promise and not get killed, I need to get you back to the cabin.”

You rise up and look at your father’s face, then toward the dresser. “Wait,” you say, wiping your face again, “he said something about the bottom drawer.”

Toji steps over and yanks the drawer out, his hands rifling through the contents. He holds up an envelope with your name on it, scrawled in your father’s handwriting. “This must be it. You can open it later, but we need to go. The queen no doubt has someone watching your house, and once they report that you’re here, she’ll send a whole company of soldiers.”

“What? Why so many?!”

“Because by now she knows I didn’t do the job, and I’m with you,” Toji says. “She knows she’ll need a fuck ton of soldiers to deal with me.”

You wonder about that, about how Toji knows the queen so well. He was just a Huntsman, right? But you don’t have time for questions now. You rush to your room and shove some clothing into a bag, then meet Toji at the front door. You glance back a toward your father’s room. “What about his burial?”

Toji is opening the door and ushering you toward it. “A neighbor will find him and take care of it. He’d much rather you get away safely than make sure he gets a proper burial. Trust me.”

You wonder if that’s his opinion as a father, but remain silent as you step outside. Just as you do, you hear a strange sound, like something moving quickly through the air. You turn to your right, where you see a thin blade stabbing straight toward you. 

Toji sees the attacker before she even turns. He reaches forward and catches the blade between his thumb and fingers, then wrenches it free of the soldier’s grasp. Before the soldier can even react, Toji has slammed an elbow into his face, shattering his nose and knocking him to the ground. 

The soldier clasps one hand over his bloody face, staring up at Toji with wide eyes. 

Toji holds the blade up, quickly examining it. “Wonder why you’re using your side dagger and not your sword,” he says, meeting the soldier’s indignant gaze. “You’re the one who killed the old man, aren’t you?”

The soldier removes his hand and yells in a broken voice, “I did what my queen asked of me! Unlike you, you traitorous dog!”

Toji’s eyes slide over to his lovely neighbor, curious what sort of reaction she has to this conversation. Will she be horrified? Sad? No. When Toji sees her face, there’s only rage there. Hell, if she had a weapon she’d probably kill this guy herself. 

That’s surprising.

But they don’t have time to indulge her. Toji flips the dagger around to point the blade downward, then rams it into the soldier’s throat. Blood bubbles up from the man’s mouth, his body jerking as he dies. 

Toji grabs her hand and pulls her along with him, taking her back into the woods where they can disappear. The queen probably has at least one more agent in the area to keep watch, but there’s no way they’re half as familiar with these woods as Toji is. 

An hour later, the two of them are back in the cabin. It should be safe for now. Only local hunters know about the cabin, and it’s located deep in the woods. 

Toji isn’t sure what to say to the crying young woman who quickly went into the bedroom and closed the door behind her. He’s never been great at consoling people. When his wife died, he didn’t want anyone to speak to him. Even hearing someone breathe nearby made him angry. But he moved on, eventually. He never stopped thinking of his wife, never stopped missing her, but it got easier as the years went by.

Over the next few days, Toji doesn’t see much of his “housemate”. She comes out of the bedroom occasionally to eat the food Toji hunts and cooks or to use the bathroom. She doesn’t talk much, except to thank Toji for his help and say she has a lot to think about. 

For his part, Toji is uncertain how he feels about her, how much time and energy he wants to put into protecting her. She’s the true heir to the throne, and he’d love nothing more than to see the queen lose her crown, but this heir is so sweet, so naive, he doubts she’ll decide to pursue it. 

And if she doesn’t… well, he likes her but he’s not going to risk his life for someone content to hide for the rest of her life. 

After five days have passed, she emerges from the bedroom and stands in front of Toji in the kitchen, the envelope he found in the drawer clutched in her hand. 

“It’s a letter from my father,” she says, “explaining what he told me in more detail. He thought the queen had the king - I mean my birth father - killed, but could never find proof.”

Toji sighs. “Sounds like something the queen would do.”

She holds out a silver necklace. “He also left me this. I think it’s supposed to be important.”

Toji takes the necklace and looks closely at the pendant. He recognizes it instantly. It’s in the shape of a cross that ends in an anchor, with golden vines wrapped around it. “This is the royal family’s crest,” he tells her. “Every kid born to the royal family is given one of these. It’s basically proof you’re the heir.””

He hands the necklace back to her and she stares at it numbly. All of this must seem surreal to her. A week ago she was just a normal young woman living in a small village. Today she’s the rightful queen of the land. 

She looks up at him, meeting his gaze. “Toji, can you please help me?”

Here it comes. She’s going to ask him to protect her, to help her hide or perhaps escape to a neighboring kingdom. She’s such a pure, sweet woman, but he’ll turn her down. 

“Help you do what?” he asks, already knowing the answer. 

“Kill the queen.”

Toji blinks. Did he hear her right? 

She goes on, unbothered by his confusion. “She killed both my fathers, and wants to kill me. I can’t forgive that, and I can’t just walk away. I don’t even know if I want to be a ruler, but I know I can’t tolerate her sitting on the throne.”

Toji can’t stop a grin from spreading over his face. “Tell you what, if you pay off my gambling debts once you get access to the royal treasury, I’ll kill anyone you want.”

She steps closer, putting one hand on his arm. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without your help. You’ve saved me twice now. I knew I was right when I said you’re a good man.”

There’s a spark of something kinetic between them, and Toji thinks she’s much more attractive now than she was a few days ago. The fiery resolve in her eyes is intoxicating. But he laughs as he says, “A good man who just agreed to kill someone for money.”

“Someone who deserves it,” she says back, her body inching closer to his. 

Toji’s arms wrap around her, pulling her up against him. “I like this new side of you,” he says.

She looks away almost shyly, but seems to relax in his arms. “I don’t think it’s new. Something just had to drag this side of me out.”

He leans down and kisses her, lightly grinding his hips into her. “I can drag something out of you alright, but only if I can ram it back in.”

Her eyes flick up to his face again. In a small voice, she says, “You can do whatever you want to me. Because I love you.”

Toji suddenly pushes you against the nearest wall, your back scraping the wood of the cabin. His hands are tearing your dress open and jerking it down off your shoulders. His movements are hurried, as if he can’t wait to get you undressed. It’s so very different from the way he touched you before. There’s an urgency this time. 

Maybe last time he was just indulging a love struck young woman. Now it seems like his passion has truly been ignited. 

You pull at his shirt, eager to see that perfectly sculpted body again. He obliges you, ripping the fabric open so fast that the buttons are sent scattering across the floor. Your hands glide over his chest, feeling the muscles there, feeling his heartbeat. 

He pulls your dress the rest of the way down, letting it pool at your feet, then down go your panties. You step out of the pile of clothes and kick them out of the way, then wrap your arms around Toji’s neck as he pick you up. Your legs move around his waist as he settles you in the right position against him. 

When his throbbing cock plunges into your drenched pussy, you cry out, then bury your face in his shoulder. He fucks you against the wall, your body sandwiched tightly between it and Toji’s firm body. With each thrust, your back hits the wood again. You know you’ll have bruises tomorrow, but right now you don’t care. 

You just want to forget. In these moments of mindless pleasure, you want to forget your father dying before your eyes, your burdensome lineage, the fact that your life has been turned upside down. You only want to feel Toji inside you, filling the emptiness you’ve felt the past few days. 

His hands are on your thighs, his fingers leaving imprints in your skin, his mouth finding yours and devouring your lips. His thrusts become harder, rougher, leaving you whimpering his name and begging for more. You want him to claim your body, make it his, reduce you to a crying mess so that you won’t have to think about anything else. 

His skin is so hot against yours, his muscled abdomen rubbing exactly the right spots to send you over the edge. When you cum, he’s kissing you, eyes open and staring at your face, his grip on your thighs tightening almost painfully. He doesn’t stop fucking you, his hips continuing to buck into you as you go limp against his chest. 

Before he cums, Toji pulls out of you, splashing the wall with his seed before easing you back onto your feet. You fall into blissful oblivion as he places your exhausted body on the couch. 

It’s late in the morning the next day when Toji tells you he’s leaving the cabin for a few hours. “I know a few former guards who hate the queen as much as we do,” he says. “They might be willing to help us.”

You nod as you pour yourself a cup of tea in the kitchen. Any help at all would be very welcome. Even if it’s just someone to distract the guards while you and Toji sneak into the castle. 

Toji gives you a quick kiss on the top of your head before stepping out, and you settle into the couch to read a book you grabbed from home. The first couple of hours pass uneventfully, the only sounds in the cabin being the crackling of the fire and the pages of your book being turned.

But in the afternoon, there comes a knock at the cabin door. You freeze, wondering who it might be. Toji wouldn’t knock. Is it a hunter from the village? Or, the more frightening possibility, a royal guard or soldier who spotted Toji in town and knows you’re alone? 

You quietly get up from the couch and creep over to the door, hoping to hear some clue that could help you determine who is on the other side. There’s a knocking again, and it strikes you that it’s not a very hard knock. Then you hear a voice. 

“Hello? Is anyone here?” 

It sounds like an old woman. It’s a weak, frail voice. Still, you can’t be too careful in this situation, so you don’t answer. 

“Please, if anyone’s here, could you help me?” the voice pleads. “My legs gave out. I just need somewhere warm to sit and rest for a bit before walking back home. I saw the smoke from the chimney.”

You move to the nearest window and peek out, toward the door. You don’t see anyone. No soldiers, no hunters. You don’t have a direct line of sight to the woman, but if there was anyone with her, you’d probably see them. 

After a few more moments, you hear soft footsteps crunching snow, and a small old lady steps into view as she limps away from the door. She looks so pitiful, so weak, you find yourself running to the door and opening it. 

The woman turns around and looks at you, then smiles. “Oh, bless you, dear!”

You hurry over and take a basket from her hand, noting it’s unusual heft, as you help her inside. 

“What are you doing out in the woods alone?” you ask her as she eases herself onto the couch with a groan. 

“I was crossing through from town back to the village,” she says. 

You fix her a cup of warm tea and sit down beside her. “That’s an awfully heavy basket you’ve got.”

She laughs and pulls the basket into her lap. “I’m a fruit seller,” she says, opening the basket and revealing several red, shiny apples. “Would you like one?”

“Oh, that’s alright!” you tell her.

She pulls one apple out and reaches it to you. “Consider it a gift for letting me warm up in your cabin.”

You hesitantly take the apple and sit it on a small table beside the couch. “Thank you. It looks delicious.”

The old woman smiles kindly. For the next half hour, she sits and chats with you, telling you about her husband who died two years ago and her no good son who refuses to help her sell fruit. Then, she slowly gets to her feet and bids you farewell. 

After watching her disappear into the forest, you close the door to the cabin and return to the couch, picking up the apple as you go. 

Toji is in town, waiting to meet up with a former guard he was friendly with, when a hunter he recognizes from the village approaches him. 

“Hey, Toji. Are you still using that old hunting cabin in the woods?” he asks. 

Toji’s eyes automatically narrow. “Not recently,” he lies. “Why?”

“There was an old fruit seller asking if anyone lived out in the woods. I told her about the cabin but stressed that no one’s usually there. I think she went anyway.”

“A fruit seller?” Toji asks, feeling a sense of dread in the pit of his stomach. 

The Hunter nods. “An old woman. She had a basket full of apples.”

Toji frowns. “Apples in the dead of winter?”

The man shrugs. “I guess she had a late harvest.”

Toji leaves. He wastes no time with small talk or goodbyes. He simply runs as fast as he can back to the woods, because he remembers something the queen told him years ago. Something he’d dismissed as delusional fantasy at the time. 

She said that if she utters a specific incantation in front of the magic mirror, it can change her appearance to look like anyone she wants. 

If that was true, then the old woman could have been…

He stops thinking, only focusing on running. He tears through the woods at inhuman speed, and in record time he arrives at the cabin. He throws the door open and runs inside. 

There he finds her, his young lover, sprawled on the floor in front of the couch, a half eaten apple lying a few inches from her outstretched hand. 

[gatorbites-imagines]

I’m SO in love with your Dick x Wally x male Thanagarian reader HCs! I’ve read through them multiple times, and they’re stuck in my head 🥰🥰💖💖💖

I wasn’t the one who requested it, but would I be able to ask for more from them, with a mix of SFW and NSFW HCs? 🙏

Dick Grayson x Wally West x Thanagarian male reader

Headcanons

I’ve been stressing about my job situation since I quit my internship, as I still need an income, and all job postings around here I can do start in April. So, like any healthy person, im ignoring these feelings by writing.

You guys dating wouldn’t change too many things, as you guys were already close and spent a lot of time together. You guys become a lot more affectionate, which is new for you but not for Dick and Wally as they had already been dating for a long time.

They plan most of the dates in the beginning, as you are still trying to figure out what would work for your human lovers. Thanagar has different traditions and habits, so humans being so lax and creative is new even after this long.

Dick and Wally are both giddy when you decide to plan a date all on your own. You end up stressing yourself way too much, wanting it to be perfect, that you get help from some of the other titans.

I think your boyfriends would be happy with anything, even just going to your hideout and sitting around eating pizza and watching a movie. But seeing all the effort you put into it makes them happy.

On your guys one year anniversary, you give them rings made out of nth metal, possibly even made from small pieces of your wings, so you are always with them in one way or another.

This makes Wally and Dick both pout as they now think their gifts arent good enough. Of course, you don’t think so, anything they’ll give you is good, but they want to do something as meaningful as you did.

Expect something personal and sweet in the coming days. It doesn’t have to be expensive or anything, but its something that means something to all of you. You just feel flustered about it, but accept the pampering.

They of course don’t go beyond your boundaries, something you return as well, since you love your boyfriends as much as you can and they love you in return.

You don’t have any family on earth, there’s Carter and Shayera, but they aren’t really your family and you guys have different values. Luckily for you, your boyfriends have active families. It takes longer for the bats to welcome you, but at this point you’ve been on earth long enough to be trusted.

When it comes to the bedroom, Wally and Dick are much more comfortable than you are in the beginning. They already know each other inside and out, literally, and the first times you feel almost like an outsider.

They obviously don’t allow you to feel left out, and the first times you guys sleep together is a lot of just learning each other, figuring out what feels good and what you are all comfortable with.

I like to think Wally asks about you wearing your wings at least once when you guys are doing it, and you counter it by saying he should keep the flash suit on then. You hadn’t expected him to do it, but he does. Dick ends up doing it too, wearing the Nightwing suit. And who wouldn’t love that.

It lets you live out a couple of fantasies you’ve always had but never allowed yourself to indulge in, since you didn’t want to disrespect your friends and their relationship.

It’s pretty lethal to not have just one boyfriend with a lot of energy, but two. And one of those boyfriends has little to no rest between rounds. I could imagine Dick jokes about how its good that you came along, so you can switch out who’s fucking Wally so the other can rest.

They both love hickeys and you leaving them on them, since the whole being marked by you gets their blood pumping. They both love leaving them just as much though, so you end up starting to wear a high-collar outfit when you go out as your crime fighting persona.

It can be hard to find time where all three of you can spend personal time together. Theres always something going on in your personal cities, so there is a lot of one on one time. But I can imagine you guys make a habit out of calling whoever isn’t there, and letting them listen through their earpiece, if possible.

It gets kinda awkward for Dick a couple of times where the other bats, mostly Babs, checks in on his comms, only to hear Wallys needy gasping and whimpering and your deeper grunts and groans, as you describe in crude detail what you are doing to your shared boyfriend.

Babs might even be a bit impressed that Dick can keep up with his usual flips and kicks, taking out criminals like usual, and not letting what hes hearing distract him.

When he finally finishes up and gets back to wherever you guys are, Dick would dive right in, even if you and Wally had already washed up and were cuddling.

Luckily Wally is always raring to go, and it’s easy to get you worked up, just watching and listening to them. At the end of the night/early morning everyone is satisfied and happy, even if Wally has to be the one doing all the cleaning and morning cooking.

[mikkomacko]

Will you make a small fic out of the reader speaking in German to Nico???

A/n: yeah um I don’t know what else to say to this except I told y’all mob Nico and reader match each others freaks.

Warnings; dirty talk, mentions of anal sex, embarrassed Nico, german translation because I don’t know how to find dirty words in Swiss German and I’m scared to dig on that side of the internet.

____________________________________________

It was supposed to be funny. Despite trying to use the language casually with you in hopes that you start to pick it up, Swiss German remained a lost language to you. It was just so hard to remember and sort of like German but not enough for you to be able to really connect the two, and it didn’t help that every time Nico spoke it to you, your brain went fuzzy.

Everything just sounds so good coming from his mouth. It went in one ear and out the other.

Timo did notice however, that curse words stuck with you. He’s muttered one under his breath after getting a paper cut one day and you’d mentally filed it away, asking him days later what it meant.

It was something along the lines of Devil’s cock and the term had made you laugh so much it stuck. Bok zers. You and Timo say it to each other all the time now.

From then, the list steadily grew until you somehow memorized a pretty hearty list of curse words.

Which was how this all started. “Just let me teach you a couple dirty things, I swear he’ll die hearing them.” That was what Timo said. It’ll be so funny.

So you’d let him, told him to tell them to you right before and you’ll remember them even if you didn’t really know what they meant. And when you asked Timo what he was going to have you say, he blushed and balked, awkwardly scratching at his bicep and stuttering out, “uh just like ya know, something you’d say to him in bed.”

“Like what?” You insisted, because you and Timo have never shied away from each other. He knew almost everything about your sex and love life with Nico, being your best and only friend pretty much. Nothing you’d ever told him before had gotten him this awkward.

“Nothing awful, just have Nico tell you about it.”

You still pressed him. “Why? What is it?”

Timo had laughed, brushed you off with a shrug. “Look it’s something he said he’d try, like he talked about it when we were teenagers but he’s never done it. I just want to see his reaction, ok?”

“Will he be mad?”

The last thing you wanted was to make Nico uncomfortable or embarrass him. Of course only him and Timo would know what you said, but then he’d have to tell you and judging by Timo’s reaction, you don’t know if Nico would want to.

“No,” Timo had promised you, “I just want to see how hard he’ll blush. I swear he’ll laugh afterwards. S’what he did the last time we talked about it.”

And yeah maybe you shouldn’t have accepted that answer. After all, Timo and Nico had been snippy and snotty to each other that whole week, picking at each other like siblings. You should’ve known Timo would’ve used this practical joke moment to poke fun at teenage Nico’s dirtiest secret.

You waited until Nico was buzzed, a Friday night at the bar with all the boys, more than a few beers deep and having fun. He wasn’t drunk enough to the point that he’s quiet and lazy, but instead sloppily happy, hands all over you.

And yeah maybe you were still a little nervous about saying something to him, more so in fear of saying it wrong and him laughing at you, rather than fear of pissing him off. Tipsy and giggly, Timo had murmured the sentence into your ear three times before sending you off to the bar where Nico was getting you and him another round of drinks.

In hindsight, you should’ve thought more about the words Timo had told you. And you probably shouldn’t have gotten drunk before saying them to Nico because if you were sober they maybe would’ve clicked in your head. At least one of them would’ve, arguably the most important one.

Nico tucked you under his arm when you stumbled up to him, giggling and stumbling in your boots but he was still strong and sturdy, looking down at you with glossy, red rimmed eyes.

Even drunk he looked like he knew everything, like he was certain of everything.

“Hi pretty baby,” he greeted, and his beer was slide across the counter to him along with your rum and coke. He necked the bottle in his other hand, lifting it to his lips for a sip.

“Hi,” you whispered, shy and nervous but Timo wouldn’t steer you wrong. And Nico’s in a good mood, he’ll have a laugh with you and then in that sweet tone he’ll translate for you, say you did so well speaking his mother tongue and it’ll be good.

You love when Nico tells you that you did good.

“What’s up?” He chuckled when you just stared at him all moony, bottom lip between your teeth. Going for your moment, you rose up onto your toes until you could press in close to his ear, keep the sentence just between the two of you.

“Wann wolltest du mir sagen, dass du auf Arschsex stehst?”

It was a rough wobble of words with you being drunk, slurring a little bit on the longer one but they had enough effect. His arm tightened around your waist, so tight it almost ached and he jerked back to look you in the eye.

Instead of laughing or being amused though, his stare was harsh and scolding. Almost immediately, you froze, staring back at him like a deer in headlights.

“Why are you asking me that?” He said, tone low and rough. Confused and unsure of how to even explain yourself, and even worse, terrified that he was mad at you, you blanked on what to even say. After a moment Nico sighed, dropped his beer back onto the bar top and rubbed as his eyes like he was trying to sober himself up somehow.

“Do you know what you just asked me?” He said again, softer this time and it was enough to make you shake your head, blinking until the words finally came to your brain.

“N-no, Timo just said it would be funny.” You defended, pointing an accusatory finger towards the booth your best friend occupied. “Nico I’m sorry, I-“

“You’re fine,” he interrupted, clearing his throat and looking at you warily. “You really have no idea what you asked?”

It was hard to focus but you stilled, ran the words through your head over and over again, hearing them in Timo’s voice. Finally something clicks, or at least you think it does, the German word sounding awfully familiar to a dirty English one, and you gape at him.

“Nico!”

He groans. “There it is.”

Archsex, you think. There’s no way Timo would send you over here to say that to Nico. Even worse, you don’t even know what you really told or asked him, just that it probably had something to do with butt sex.

“Nico no, I wouldn’t have, I swear I didn’t and Timo told me it was something you said as a teenager and I thought it was like a fantasy thing like role play or something! I didn’t-“

“You’re fine, you’re fine.” Nico cut you off, silencing your drunk apologies with a hand over your mouth. Luckily he looks a little amused now, half smiling at you despite how red his face has gotten. He won’t look you in the eye though, instead watching your mouth and forehead with embarrassed concentration.

Guilty, you pry his hand away. “Hey you don’t have to be weird,” you say gently, words more clear and sober than they’ve been all night. “I mean that’s not weird so you shouldn’t feel weird.”

He scoffs, finally looks at you but this time like you’re crazy.

“The only thing weird about this is that I still don’t know what I really told you.”

He laughs a bit at that, shuffling uncomfortably and then leaning in until his lips meet your ear. “You asked me when I was gonna tell you I’m into anal sex.”

And well, yeah it’s still fucking weird but at least you didn’t ask him to have anal sex with you, so props to Timo for not being a total asshole with that one.

“Could’ve been worse,” you murmur, wincing slightly because it is kind of embarrassing. Nico huffs, looking away as he takes a long drink of his beer. Sadly, you watch him, sort of guilty for letting timo talk you into this but mostly guilty for invading something Nico told his best friend in private. Something he obviously wasn’t ready to tell you or ask you about since he’s never brought it up.

You take a long pull of your drink, nose scrunching when the rum burns in your chest. Then you let it soak in for a moment, still pressed up tight against Nico’s body and let the buzz start to come back.

“You could’ve told me,” you finally say, tentatively. Nico doesn’t really react but you can feel him look to you, eyes watching your side profile. “I just mean like I’ve told you stuff that I’d never say to anyone. And I’ve let you do stuff I’d never let anyone else do. So ya know, you can tell me stuff too, if you want.”

Incredulous, he asks. “Really? After hearing that?”

You nod, certain, and take another drink. “Yeah. It’s us, right? I…like we’re good together in bed because we know each other. And we like a lot of the same stuff so…like how would we know about that if we didn’t…”

You don’t really know where you’re going with this or what to entirely say, tongue fuzzy with nerves and the drinks. Nico must feel the same because he stumbles over his next words.

“That-you’d be down to…I didn’t think that’s something you’d try I guess.”

The next words don’t tear you up inside, and you don’t have to hesitate or mull them over. It’s Nico, your Nico. No matter what, you’re certain of him.

“I’d try anything with you.”

“Oh,” he breathes, taking another drink of his beer. He doesn’t say anything else but his arm tightens around you, squeezing you into his body and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

After a beat of silence, you can’t help yourself. “Have you don’t it before?”

He makes a sort of choking sound, and you realize he was in the middle of taking a drink. Wincing in apology, you hunch into yourself, hiding from this whole stupid embarrassing prank Timo tried to pull.

Nico’s voice is rough and raw when he finally speaks. “No I haven’t. Like you said, it was just something I told Timo once.”

You don’t know what to say after that, so you throw back the rest of your drink, shifting in Nico’s arm until you’re in front of him, chin tilted up to look at him.

He looks exhausted, if you’re being honest. Like the embarrassment of the night drained his entire social battery and your stomach tightens with guilt.

Unsure of what else to do, you press a gentle kiss to the hunger of jaw, make your way down the sharp line until you’re at his chin. Soft and careful, you kiss the dimple there, let the scruff of his beard tickle your lips. Dot his cheeks in tender kisses to and by the time you make it to his lips, he’s eager and clingy, just as he had been all night.

Nico kisses you sloppily, a quiet noise of pleasure humming from the back of his throat and he pulls you in tighter until you’re just about plastered to his chest.

Desperate for air, you part just enough to speak, lips still brushing his with every word.

“One more drink and then we kill Timo?”

Nico smirks. “That’s my girl.” He kisses you again, just once before pulling back and signaling for another round. He looks a bit dazed, mouth swollen and red, pupils blown when he looks down at you.

“You did good, ya know that?”

Chills run up your spine, a please smile curling at your lips. Still you raise a questioning eyebrow, prodding for more.

“The German,” he explains carefully. “It sounded good. Like you knew what you were saying.”

You laugh, blushing under his praise. “Well apparently I have a knack for remembering the dirty things.”

To your surprise, his eyes light up, mischief twinkling in those dark pupils. “Next time you want a lesson in naughty words,” he murmurs, “come to me, yeah?”

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One

Eddie squints into the bright sunlight flooding the kitchen. He’s eating a bowl of lucky charms that taste like chemicals and fake sugar and he’s not even sure he’s going to make it to the end of the first mouthful. The texture is grainy and artificially chewy and Eddie is sure he used to like these.

Steve, the guy in Eddie’s house, sits himself opposite with a neat little piles of scrambled eggs and cut fruit on his plate. He looks at Eddie, gets up again, pulls the blind just far enough that Eddie’s eyes are shaded, and then comes back again.

“Can I get you anything?”

“You can get the fuck out of my house,” Eddie replies. But there’s no bite. No meaning. No energy. No anything behind the words. He’s so fucking tired and so done with it all.

Steve carries on like Eddie hasn’t spoken, and eats his breakfast.

Eddie’s spoon clatters on the rim of the still full bowl; he goes back to bed.

Eddie blinks open gummy eyes to find some electrolyte sports drink thing and a banana sitting offensively on his bedside table. His cock is hard and unrelenting and making him fucking miserable. He flops over onto his back and shoves his hand down his pants, thinking vaguely that he’d kill a dude for a bag. For a pre rolled. For a fucking cough sweet.

He comes too fast, his knot doesn’t even pop, and it feels empty. Like he’s starving and someone handed him a handful of popcorn; doesn’t solve anything. If anything, it’s made it worse.

He clambers out of bed, his sweats soaked with come. When they start to slide off his too skinny hips, Eddie lets them. Watches as they slide to the floor, a wet, pointless mess. Just like him.

Eddie stalks into the kitchen, Steve’s sitting at the table, he has a pen in his hand, and he’s tapping it gently against the page. Doing a cross word or something, Eddie guesses. Where the fuck did he even get a newspaper. Eddie didn’t even know you could still buy newspapers any more.

“Aren’t you supposed to be doing something to make all this better? Isn’t that your fucking job, or whatever?”

Steve sits back, he doesn’t seem to bat an eyelid over Eddie being naked, and he doesn’t stare either, just makes normal eye contact like Eddie being bare assed in the middle of the kitchen is a day to day occurrence.

“Are you open to taking a suggestion?”

“Are you open to taking a suggestion,” Eddie snarks back, bitches back, “like what?”

“Have a bath.”

“A bath? Really? That’s all you got for my...recovery or well being or to cure me of being a fucking addict?”

“No. You just stink,” Steve replies, still in his totally even and reasonable tone of voice.

“I’m in rut,” Eddie snaps back.

“Are you?” Steve raises an eyebrow, “can’t smell anything over the arm pint stank.”

“I- you- that’s just fucking rude, aren’t you supposed to be working for me? You can’t say shit like that-”

“I work for Chrissy.” Steve folds his newspaper and stands, “I presume you have a full bath in your en suite.” And Steve just...walks away. Eddie trailing behind as Steve lets himself into Eddie’s room and then into his bathroom.

“Oh. Sure. Just, make yourself at home,” Eddie bitches at him, “you just do whatever the fuck you like.”

Steve sets the bath running, rummages around under the sink and comes up with bubbles and bath salts that Eddie didn’t even know he had.

He wonders vaguely how bad bath salts would burn if he tried to snort them.

And then Steve starts cleaning, while the bath fills. He pulls out supplies, wipes down the counters and sinks. He throws some bleach down the toilet and wipes that down, “get in,” he turns the taps off, “I’m going to find something for this mirror.”

The mirror does look grim, Eddie can’t remember the last time he even had the cleaning lady over. He can’t remember if he’s still paying her. He can’t remember Chris saying a word about her. He wonders vaguely where she’s gone.

Eddie lies there in the steaming water, eyes slitted and vaguely watching as Steve brings the glass back to a perfect mirror shine, climbing up on the counter stretching high to buff away every last smear.

“I had a cleaning lady. Where’d she go?”

“She quit months ago.”

“She quit?” Eddie asks, genuinely surprised, “why?”

Steve raises that eyebrow, “wage dispute.”

“Fuck off, I paid her plenty.”

“Didn’t sound like any amount would be enough for what she was dealing with.” Steve lets that one sit, and Eddie wishes Steve would at least be smug or be a cunt or anything about it, but he’s not, he just delivers it like it’s a calm fact, the same as everything else he has to say. “I’ll do your hair.”

“I’m not a child.”

Steve doesn’t answer. He doesn’t need to. His face is an unreadable mask of cool professionalism that’s screaming, ‘why do you act like one then?’

When he wets Eddie’s hair, Eddie’s sure he pours water all over his face on purpose.

Eddie sits in the tub, Steve perched on the side, and he lets Steve wash his hair. He knows which products to use. He knows which order. He knows what to let sit and when to bring out the wide toothed comb. This is not Steve’s first rodeo with curly hair.

Eddie slumps back at some point, muscles feeling like they’re unwinding and unspooling into the water, his eyes have been closed for ages and he doesn’t remember closing them.

It takes a long time for him to put it together.

“You’re not washing my hair any more,” he slurs. He sounds a little drunk.

“No,” Steve says quietly.

“What, you a masseuse too?”

“I wear a lot of hats. It’s part of the job. I believe in a holistic approach to recovery.”

"Oh yeah," Eddie speaks quietly, "gonna' wave your magic wand and fix me? Solve all my problems and let me skip off into the sunset?"

"No. You're probably going to be fighting this battle for the rest of your life."

"Jesus Christ. Do you have to be so honest about it? Aren't you supposed to be all positive and shit."

"I am being positive. I'm positive you'll always be an alcoholic and a drug addict-"

Eddie snorts a derisive noise.

"But I'm also certain it gets easier, if you stick with it."

Eddie makes another dismissive noise, and goes back to being half asleep, Steve’s sure fingers working into his scalp.

Steve leaves, at some point. The water starts to cool. Eddie starts to become aware of himself, and he doesn’t like it. The rut is there, itching under his skin, but it feels weird and half formed and almost like it’s happening to someone else, far away.

He vaguely wonders about scoring and then realizes he can’t. It just makes him want it more though. The more he tries not to think about it, the more he can’t avoid thinking about it.

He gets out of the water, finding clean towels on the heated rails he dries himself, twisting his hair up on top of his head inside a towel.

His bedroom has also been cleaned, the sheets changed. The drapes are pulled and a window is open, letting in fresh, warm afternoon air.

Steve has laid out a clean tee shirt and sweats on the bed.

Steve can go fuck himself.

[swuspect]

OFF THE RECORD.

“nah, you love me.”

prev chapter?

synopsis: one stream, one confession, and the internet lost its mind—now chris sturniolo is in your dms, and he’s definitely flirting back.

a/n: i literally just woke up from my nap and saw 100 FOLLOWERS??? TYSM 😭😭 it’s barely been a week and i’ve gotten so much love!?! Im very thankful though!! (if you have any requests don’t be shy)

pairing: chris sturniolo x streamer!reader

wc: 887

your fingers hovered over your phone screen, staring at the message like it might disappear if you blinked too hard.

@christophersturniolo what if i got ur number tho… just so u can tell me to stfu properly n all

was this real life?

your heart hammered against your ribs as you quickly swiped out of instagram, checking your reflection in your front camera like it mattered. girl, he can’t even see you right now. get a grip.

taking a deep breath, you went back to the chat.

@yourusername bold of u to assume i’d use my words and not just block u

@christophersturniolo nah u wouldn’t do that

@yourusername u don’t know me like that

@christophersturniolo not yet .. 👀

your brain flatlined. no way was chris actually flirting with you again.

but two could play that game.

@yourusername ur confidence is crazy rn

@christophersturniolo i mean u did call me ur fav triplet so i got reasons

you rolled your eyes, biting back a smile. fine. whatever. you were done pretending to play it cool.

@yourusername yeah yeah whatever. u getting my number or not

@christophersturniolo oh so now u want me to have it??

@yourusername i changed my mind, ur not getting it anymore

@christophersturniolo oh nah ur actually evil send that shit rn

you grinned, finally typing out your number and hitting send.

within seconds, your phone buzzed with a new text.

unknown number stfu

you laughed, shaking your head as you saved his contact.

you - damn. straight to the point huh

chris - well technically u did tell me to stfu first…

you - okay and???

chris - and i’m just following orders. also hi

you - hi

chris - so u free tmrw or u too busy being a famous streamer n all

your breath caught in your throat. was this what you thought it was?

you - depends. why?

chris - i mean if ur tryna talk shit abt me being ur fav triplet i feel like that should happen over facetime

you - oh so ur tryna see my face now???

chris - i already see ur face all over my fyp, might as well see it for real 🤷🏻‍♂️

you flopped back onto your bed, phone clutched to your chest. you needed to scream. maybe kick your feet a little. but not yet. first—

you - alright fine. tmrw.

chris - say less.

you stared at the screen, warmth spreading through your chest.

how the hell did this even happen?

whatever. you weren’t questioning it.

the next day, you spent way too long debating if you should actually call him or if you should suddenly disappear off the face of the earth. you were about five seconds away from ghosting when your phone lit up—

incoming facetime: chris sturniolo

fuck. fuck. fuck.

you sucked in a breath and hit accept before you could chicken out.

“well, well, well,” chris smirked as soon as your face popped up on screen. “look who actually answered.”

“look who actually called,” you shot back, adjusting your phone so you didn’t look like a complete mess. “should i be flattered?”

“depends.” he leaned back against his bed frame, hoodie slightly oversized, curls messier than usual. he looked annoyingly good. “you nervous or somethin’?”

you scoffed. “nah, but you are. i can tell.”

he raised an eyebrow. “oh yeah? how’s that?”

“you keep touching your hair.” you grinned, watching as he immediately dropped his hand from where it had been fixing his curls.

“alright. chill.” he rolled his eyes, but you could tell he was biting back a smile. “so is this what i should expect? you bullying me on the first call?”

“obviously.”

he laughed, shaking his head. “nah, that’s crazy.”

you just shrugged. “you signed up for this.”

“did i?”

“yeah. the second you slid into my dms, it was over for you.”

he tilted his head. “nah, i think it was over for you the second you admitted i was your fav.”

you narrowed your eyes. “you love bringing that up, huh?”

“oh, hundred percent .” he grinned. “makes my ego real happy.”

you rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away.

“you’re not that special,” you teased.

“nah, don’t lie. you definitely got a little crush.”

you opened your mouth, ready to argue, but nothing came out. because maybe—just maybe—he wasn’t wrong.

“see? you’re speechless.” his smirk deepened. “caught in 4K.”

you groaned, covering your face. “i hate you.”

“nah, you love me.”

“okay, relax.”

he laughed again, a little softer this time. “alright, fine, i’ll chill.” a pause. “but i think you’re cool, y’know.”

your heart did a stupid little flip.

you peeked at him through your fingers. “yeah?”

“yeah.” he shrugged, leaning his chin on his hand. “i mean, we did just meet, but… you’re easy to talk to. funny. and, y’know.” he shot you a look. “kinda cute.”

you blinked.

he just said that. casually. like it was nothing.

“uh—” you cleared your throat, trying so hard to play it cool. “well, you’re not too bad yourself, sturniolo.”

his smirk returned. “so it’s mutual then?”

you pretended to think about it, tilting your head. “…yeah. i guess so.”

“solid.”

a comfortable silence settled between you two, the kind that didn’t feel awkward or forced. just… easy.

and maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something really, really good.

.☘︎ ݁˖ @angvl3tears @leprechaunbirthdaygirl .☘︎ ݁˖

[celestialgallaghers]

Double Dare Ya pt 2 [18+]

Part 1

I’m sorry this took so long I kept changing my mind on where I wanted it to go. I hope you enjoy <3

Summary: Still reeling from your encounter with Noel, you find yourself not wanting to see him again. That is, until you run into him in a place you really should've expected, now face to face with the memory that’s been haunting you.

Word count: 7.6k

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

You paced the length of your flat, chewing at your thumbnail. You weren’t entirely sure why you felt this way. 

Well, maybe a little. 

Jo already knew, obviously. She’d guessed as much. But that wasn’t what had you on edge.

It was what came next.

She’d want to talk about it. Pick it apart. Ask you how you felt. And a week after the incident, you still didn’t have an answer.

What you did know was that you felt guilty. You’d been avoiding her calls for days and it was starting to weigh on you.

Soon after she’d caught you, she had her little "told you so" moment, but the second she started prying, you shut down. You’d barely been able to process it yourself, let alone talk about it. Instead, you mumbled a half-assed promise to talk soon and basically ran all the way home without saying another word to anyone.

But now, after days of radio silence, you had no excuse.

Taking a deep breath, you picked up the receiver and dialed her number. 

"Finally," Jo answered on the first ring, exasperation evident. "I was about to send a search and rescue team to make sure you were still alive."

You winced. "I know, I know. I’m sorry. I should've called sooner, I just… didn’t really know what to say. And I still don’t, so don’t expect much," you warned.

You could practically hear the smug smile in her voice as she waited for you to continue.

Then, a sudden realization struck, sending a wave of panic over you. You weren’t her only source of information in this situation. 

"You… uh, didn’t talk to him about this, did you?" you asked hesitantly.

"Noel?" she half-laughed. "No, I trust you way more to tell me the truth."

Your pulse slowed, but only slightly. At least that was one less thing to worry about.

"But," she continued, "I did see him briefly, a few hours after you left. Completely off his head with some other bird, doing god knows what." She huffed. "Sorry." 

She added it as an afterthought, as if you’d be hurt by this information.

"No, no, it’s not like that at all," you said quickly. "This was just a one-time thing. I really couldn’t care less who he’s screwing."

It was easier that way. Knowing it wasn’t a big deal to him. And yet, somewhere deep in the back of your mind, there was a flicker of something that you didn’t want to name. It was quickly smothered.

"I think I just want to put the whole thing behind me," you said, hoping to make it sound final. "Chalk it up to a moment of weakness."

She was quiet for a moment. "Really? Well that’s a shame. I think you two would get on well."

You huffed out a laugh, trying hard to downplay her words. "I think I’ve had enough of your matchmaking, thanks."

Silence stretched between you. She was obviously waiting for you to continue.

You twirled the phone cord between your fingers anxiously. "So, um, I guess you already know what happened, but I don’t really know where to start and I know you have questions so—" 

"You sucked him off, right?" she cut in bluntly.

You choked. "Well, no, I—"

She gasped. "Oh my God, you fucked him? Right in that dirty field? You little slut!"

"Christ, let me finish," you groaned, pressing your fingers to your temples. "I just gave him a handy. That’s all."

God, what was happening? You weren’t a prude by any means, but just saying the words out loud made your face burn like you were confessing some deep, filthy secret.

"Oh, that’s all is it?" she teased, amused by your flusteredness. "Must not have been a good one if he was fishing for more after."

"Oh, shut up," you shot back. "It was good enough."

"Was it?" she prodded, clearly fishing for more.

You hesitated. "Yes it was." 

Flashes of Noel’s trembling body beneath you surfaced in your mind, unbidden. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing them away.

"And that’s all you’re getting," you added firmly.

She tsked. "What’s the point of having girlfriends if we can’t talk about how men are in the sack?"

You sighed. "This is different, and you know it. He’s… well, him. And you’re friends with him too. It doesn’t feel right."

And while you knew Noel didn’t exactly shy away from bragging about his sex romps, something told you that whatever happened in that field wasn’t exactly routine for him. Or at least you thought so. Although you could be entirely wrong. You barely knew him for fucks sake. 

Either way, the idea of sharing the details didn’t sit right with you. Jo could keep a secret, sure. But still… you didn’t want to tell her.

"Then what’s the point of even calling me?" she grumbled.

"Fine," you huffed. You had to placate her in some way. "All you’re getting is that he’s a good kisser. Spread the word I’m sure it’d inflate his ego even more," you said dryly.

She sighed dramatically. "Fine. D’you think you want to see him again?"

You bit your lip. You didn’t really know the answer to that. 

The logical answer was no. You should avoid him. Avoid every place he might be. The idea of facing him again made your stomach churn. Would it be awkward? Would he act smug about it? Or worse—would he brush it off completely?

And yet another part of you was saying yes. Because what if he wanted more? The thought had never fully formed before now, but the moment it did, it burrowed deep. The whole thing had been amusing and incredibly filthy. 

But would he want it again?

Would you?

It seemed impossible. He was famous. He did this all the time, didn’t he? It was meaningless. That’s what you should believe.

And yet, that glimmer of vulnerability, of realness, it had enthralled you much more than you would've liked to admit. 

Not that you’d ever admit that to Jo.

"I don’t know," you admitted. "I don’t think so."

"Why not?"

"It’s…too confusing. Like I said, it was just a one-time thing." 

She was quiet for a moment. Like she was holding back her disappointment. 

"Well, I’m not gonna force you," she said, "but I think you should reconsider."

You pinched the bridge of your nose. "Jo."

"All I’m saying is that you guys would—"

"Jo, I’m hanging up now."

"Wait!" was all you heard before you slammed the phone back onto the receiver, exhaling sharply.

Fucking hell what had you gotten yourself into.

❦ ❦ ❦

True to your word, you became hyper-aware of everywhere you went. 

The city was massive yet it suddenly felt suffocating, like you were navigating a minefield. No matter how much you tried to avoid him, Oasis was inescapable. Their songs followed you into every shop, their faces stared back at you from every magazine stand. It was maddening. Everywhere you turned, there he was. A reminder of that night. It was like the universe was playing some cruel joke on you.

One night, you flicked on the telly only to be met with Noel’s face. He was on some late-night interview show, sprawled lazily in his seat, exuding that signature self-assurance. Your thumb hovered over the remote, hesitating. Watching him now, it almost felt like you knew something about him that no one else did. Because for all his bravado, for all his sharp words and easy smirks, he was actually quite malleable. Quick to break if you knew where to apply the right pressure. 

Then, as if on cue, he flashed the camera a crooked smile, and for a moment all you could think about were the broken moans that had fallen from that very mouth. The weight of him in your hand. The way he had unraveled beneath you. 

A flush of heat curled in your stomach, creeping lower before you could stop it. 

With a sharp inhale, you grabbed the remote and switched off the TV, tossing it aside like it had burned you.

You needed to get a fucking grip.

Nights out had become a hassle too. 

Jo kept trying to drag you along, promising Noel wouldn’t be there, but you didn’t want to tempt fate. No matter how much you didn’t want to, you spent night after night in your flat, drinking alone, watching trashy TV with a scowl on your face. You knew you couldn’t keep this up forever, but it needed to blow over before you were less on edge. 

Yesterday, though, Jo had finally lost her patience.

"I don’t understand what’s so bad about what happened that you won’t even face him. This is starting to get a bit ridiculous. You're gonna have to come out of hiding at some point."

She was right of course. What was so bad about it? You were starting to feel too much like a coward. 

Her words still rang in your mind tonight. And after one too many glasses of wine, irritation was starting to creep in.

Why the hell were you letting him dictate your life like this? You’d spent weeks holed up like some estranged recluse, avoiding places you used to love. And for what? Noel fucking Gallagher?

It was pathetic really. And you were over it. 

Before you could overthink it, you were rifling through your closet, yanking out the most flattering dress you owned. Twenty minutes later, you were out on the streets, feeling lighter than you had in weeks. Like shedding an old skin. A rebirth. A good fuck would be just the thing to snap you out of this.

You hadn’t even registered where your feet were taking you until you found yourself outside the same club where this whole mess with Noel had started. 

Well. If there was ever a place to begin again, this was as good as any.

The fleeting thought that he might be inside entered your mind, but you ignored it. You were too determined to care. And besides fuck him. You didn’t owe him anything.

It didn’t take long before a man approached you. He was attractive enough, at least for what you needed tonight. When he offered to buy you a drink, you let him. You laid it on thick—laughing at his mediocre jokes, brushing your knees together, a coy smile curving your lips.

When he asked you to dance, you didn’t hesitate. This new version of you liked dancing. For a while, you let yourself melt into the music, let the bass vibrate through your bones, let the alcohol dull the edges of everything sharp.

His body was pressed against yours, radiating heat and hands roaming. It was making you feel alive. Letting yourself revel in the heady mix of sweat, liquor, and fleeting affection. It felt good. It felt easy. 

You were breathless and flushed, and when he leaned down and asked if you wanted to get out of there, you agreed without a second thought.

The two of you stumbled through the club, laughter bubbling in your throat as you leaned into him, ready to disappear into the night. But the moment shattered when you rounded the corner and collided heavily with another pair of bodies.

"Watch it, cunt," he voice was sharp, impatient. Familiar.

Your stomach plummeted.

Noel.

His eyes locked onto yours, and you felt rooted to the spot. Your mind was suddenly infuriatingly blank. For all the time you’d spent avoiding him, you hadn’t once considered what you’d say if you actually saw him again.

For a fleeting second, something unreadable flickered across his face. Was he thinking the same thing? Or had you not even crossed his mind since that night?

"Sorry mate," the man beside you muttered, breaking you out of your sudden trance. You’d nearly forgotten he was there. His arm slipped around your waist, and the touch suddenly felt like acid burning your skin. 

Noel’s gaze flicked down, tracking the movement. His jaw tightened just slightly, just enough for you to see it if you were looking. And you were looking.

You forced yourself to look elsewhere. That’s when you noticed he wasn’t alone. A brunette clung to him. Not the same one as last time, but close enough. 

Right. 

This was what he did. Moved from one woman to the next like it meant nothing.

Again the irritation flared hot in your chest. Now you remembered why you were avoiding him.

"Noel," you greeted smoothly, summoning every ounce of detachment you had.

His lips curled into something smug, his usual arrogance snapping back into place. "Didn’t think I’d be seeing you again, love."

"Yeah, well," you tilted your head, mirroring his smugness. "Let’s hope this is the last time."

His eyebrows lifted slightly, amusement glinting in his eyes as his gaze dragged over you before flicking dismissively to the man at your side.

"Enjoy her, mate," he said, voice light but laced with something else. "She’s a right good time."

Then he winked at you and sauntered off, pulling his brunette along with him.

You exhaled sharply, tempted to grab the nearest object and hurl it at the back of his head. 

So that was it then.

"Was that Noel Gallagher?" The guy beside you squinted after him. "Do you know him?"

You clenched your jaw. "Not really."

He studied you for a moment before adding, almost absently, "Y’know, you kinda look like that girl he was with."

Something twisted violently inside you. Without another word, you turned on your heel and walked away.

"Hey, wait! Where are you going?"

You ignored him. His voice sharpened behind you, something ugly creeping into his tone, but you didn’t stop. You just kept moving, his thick Mancunian accent you hadn’t noticed before faded into background noise.

This had been a stupid idea. A really, really stupid idea. 

Gripping the edges of the sink, you stared at yourself in the club’s bathroom mirror, swaying slightly. The fluorescent lights cast sharp shadows across your face, making you look as wrecked as you suddenly felt.

You exhaled hard, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes. The night had gone sideways. Now you were just drunk and alone. Again.

You reckoned you should probably go home, but your limbs felt restless, skin too hot, mind buzzing with unspent frustration.

With a heavy sigh, you pushed open the door and stepped back into the hallway. 

As you passed the exit leading to the alley, your eyes caught on it for a moment.

What the hell might as well. It was hallowed ground now.

You pushed the door open, welcoming the rush of cool air. You had just wrapped your fingers around your pack when a voice cut through the quiet.

"Where’d your man go?"

You froze. 

No fucking way.��

Sure enough, Noel emerged from the shadows, cigarette perched between his lips, the ember casting a faint glow over his face.

You scoffed, shaking your head as you tried to suppress the aggravation rising in your chest. "Where’s your model?"

"Sent her home." he replied easily, smoke curling from his lips.

You considered walking away. That would be the smart thing to do. You didn’t need to stand here and entertain his bullshit. But there was just enough alcohol in your system, just enough lingering frustration in your chest, to make you stay. To push back.

"Were you waiting out here for me?" you accused, narrowing your eyes at him.

A slow smile tugged at his lips. "Maybe." He shrugged, taking another drag. "Thought it was worth a shot."

Oh. You hadn’t expected him to be upfront about it. Something about the way he said it so casually made it worse. Like he already knew you wouldn’t walk away. And you knew it too.

His gaze dragged down your body, eyes lingering in a way that sent a prickle of heat across your skin. 

"S’nice dress."

"Thanks, I was dying for your approval," you deadpanned.

He exhaled a quiet chuckle, unfazed. "So, what brings you back here tonight?"

"Same thing as you, I presume."

His brows lifted. "What, him?" He jerked his head toward the club. "C’mon. You can do much better than that."

"Oh yeah? Like what, you?" you said, not even considering the implications until the words were out of your mouth. 

His grin widened, all teeth, all ego. He held up his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, you said it. Not me."

You let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. "Jesus, do you ever stop?"

"Stop what?"

"Deflecting. Acting like nothing ever gets to you," you said, folding your arms. "Like you're untouchable."

His smirk didn’t waver, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes.

"And what, you think you’ve got me all figured out, yeah?"

"I think you're exhausting."

He let out a low chuckle. "Yeah, well. Can’t win ‘em all."

You narrowed your eyes. "So that’s it? That’s the whole act?"

"Dunno what you mean."

"Yes, you do," you pressed. "This little performance you put on is bullshit. You always go on about how real you are, but this—this is fake as fuck. And I can’t believe more people don’t see through it."

Something flashed in his gaze. It was subtle, but it was there. He took a slow drag, exhaling through his nose, like he was buying himself time.

"And what if there’s nothin’ to see through?" His voice was even, but there was an edge to it now. "What if this is just who I am? Arrogant cunt."

You studied him, trying to pick apart the layers he kept so tightly wound. He was good at this. Keeping people at arm’s length, at never letting anyone see past the smirk.

But you'd seen something else.

You tilted your head slightly, voice quieter now. "No. I know that’s not entirely true."

His amusement faltered, just slightly. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. I happened to really like the version of Noel I met in that field."

His expression flickered again. And for the first time since this conversation started, he didn’t have a response ready.

His mouth opened slightly, then shut. He inhaled deeply, tapping ash from his cigarette, gaze flicking away for just a second.

"And which version was that?" His voice was different now. Lower. Cautious.

Your stomach flipped.

There were two versions, weren’t there? The one who had been laid-back, at ease, warm in a way that had caught you off guard. And then the other one. The one who had let you undo him completely. The one you couldn’t stop thinking about, no matter how hard you tried.

The silence between you was tight, buzzing. A question waiting to be answered.

You weren’t sure if he wanted to go there. If he wanted to acknowledge what had happened. Or if he’d rather let it fade into nothing.

There was really only one way to find out. 

You swallowed before speaking. "You know which one." Your voice was lower now. Careful. Calculated. Just in case he chose to pretend he didn’t hear the subtext.

His gaze flitted away for the briefest moment, like he was considering his next move, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to acknowledge it. When he looked back at you, something in his expression had shifted. Less cocky, more guarded.

You grinned. "What? No witty comeback?" You stepped closer, emboldened by his silence. The longer he stayed quiet, the bigger your smile grew.

The cigarette between his fingers hung idly, forgotten. You reached out, plucking it from his hand before bringing it to your lips, dragging slowly. Your fingers barely brushed, but the contact sent a spark skittering up your arm.

He watched you silently, his expression unreadable. Even as you blew the smoke directly into his face, he barely reacted. He just kept his eyes on you, like he was working something out in his head. 

Then, like he’d been holding it in for too long, he asked, "Why’d you run off?"

Now it was your turn to be thrown. You hadn’t expected him to confront you on that. 

Why had you run? Because staying had felt like stepping off a ledge. Because the weight of the moment had pressed too hard against your ribs, and the uncertainty had been suffocating. 

What would he have said afterward? Would he have just rolled over, lit a cigarette, and acted like it was nothing? The fear of the unknown had sent you running before he had the chance to make you regret staying.

But you weren’t about to tell him that.

You took another drag, letting the smoke linger in your lungs, buying yourself a few extra seconds before responding. 

"Look, I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of groupies overstay their welcome. I just figured I’d make things easier for you by leaving before you had to ask me to, okay?"

He stared at you for a long moment. 

"I don’t think of you as a groupie," he said finally.

You narrowed your eyes. "Don’t you?"

He exhaled a soft laugh, shaking his head. "No groupies don’t usually make me work this hard."

You raised a brow. "Is that what this is? Work?"

He tilted his head slightly, considering you. "Let’s just say you’re not making it easy for me."

You weren’t sure why, but that response sent something sharp and unexpected through you. Maybe because it felt dangerously close to admitting something.

Silence settled between you, thick with something unspoken. The air between you had become charged and neither of you seemed to know where to go from here.

You took one final drag on his cigarette before flicking it away, the ember sparking briefly against the pavement.

At some point the space between you had shrunk, unconsciously drifting toward each other. It was like he had some sort of magnetic field that you’d gotten pulled into. And now you were now stuck in it. 

Your gaze lifted to his. He was already watching you, uncertainty flickering in his eyes.

You parted your lips slightly, but no words came out.

His gaze dipped to your mouth. Then back up. 

Your heart pounded.

Oh, fuck it. 

You closed the shrinking gap and kissed him.

He responded instantly. His hand slid to your back, pulling you against him, the heat of his body searing through the thin layers of fabric between you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging slightly, and the noise it pulled from him, deep and needy, sent something sharp and electric surging through you.

He tasted just like you remembered. Or maybe better. Just as intoxicating, just as addictive.

At first he seemed tentative, unsure. But then he melted into it, kissing you back with a quiet urgency that made your knees weak.

"I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you," he gasped against your lips.

Heat flared in your chest. And something else. Something akin to pride.

"Me either," you admitted, voice just above a whisper.

You felt him smirk. "Oh really?"

"Yeah." Your fingers tightened around his waist, pulling him closer. "But don’t let it go to your head."

You deepened the kiss, swallowing the groan that slipped from him. The sound sent a shiver straight through you, and fuck you wanted more of it. More of him.

You nipped at his lower lip just to hear him again. Another soft noise escaped him, and you drank it in greedily.

Now you knew. Knew where you could take him. And god you wanted to see it again.

You pulled back just enough to catch your breath, your grip on his waist tightening. "Come back to mine."

A slow, knowing smile spread across his face before you turned, making your way down the alley.

He followed.

The ride back to your flat had been…eventful. 

Noel had called his driver, and the two of you had slipped into the backseat, your legs brushing together. Neither of you spoke at first, but the silence was thick, pulsing with something electric, something inevitable.

Then his hand found your knee.

His touch was barely there, but you felt the weight of it hit you hard. A jolt of heat shot through you as he began rubbing small circles against you.

That was it.

Before you could stop yourself, you turned to him, capturing his mouth with yours in a kiss that sent him back against the seat.

He barely had a second to react before you were climbing into his lap, fingers diving into his hair. His hands shot to your waist, gripping hard. The feel of him beneath you again was dizzying, sending heat rushing straight to your core.

A low moan slipped from his throat as your weight settled over him. His fingers tightened, digging into your ass, pulling you flush against him. 

"This dress," he groaned against your lips. "God."

You smirked, lips brushing his as you teased, "You like it?"

His breath was ragged as he rasped, "So much."

You leaned in, dragging open-mouthed kisses along his jaw, down the column of his throat. His skin was warm against your lips, his pulse wild beneath your touch. He shuddered when you reached the spot where his neck met his shoulder, grinning to yourself before biting down, just enough to make him gasp.

His grip on you tightened. His body tensed.

And then—

The car jerked to a stop, sending you both lurching forward.

You let out a quiet curse, quickly sliding off his lap as the driver cleared his throat from the front. 

Face burning, you smoothed down your dress, stealing a glance at Noel. He was still slumped back, breathing heavily, hair a mess, lips wet and parted.

He ran a hand through his hair, eyes dark as they watched you.

Neither of you spoke as you stumbled out of the car and into your building, the silence thick with anticipation, charged with everything you hadn’t said.

Now, standing in the middle of your flat, the reality of the moment sank in. The mess you’d left behind suddenly felt glaring—clothes draped over chairs, an empty wine glass perched precariously on the coffee table.

But Noel didn’t seem to notice. Or care.

His eyes were on you. Watching. Taking you in.

Then they lifted, met yours, and held.

"Hi," you breathed, suddenly shy in a way that felt ridiculous after everything that had just happened.

"Hi," he murmured back.

And then he was on you again, pulling you into a slow, deliberate kiss. It was different from before. Less frantic, more controlled. Like he wanted to take his time.

You let him take the lead this time, curious to see where it would go.

He backed you against the wall, his hand cupping your jaw, thumb brushing lightly over your cheek, while the other found its way to your waist. His grip was firm, grounding. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, anchoring yourself as he deepened the kiss, tongue brushing over yours in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.

He seemed much less overwhelmed this time. More sure of himself. And, god, it was sexy.

Not that the other version of him wasn’t, but you were beginning to understand why he had a reputation for this. 

You pulled back just enough to catch your breath, attempting to regain some semblance of composure. "So… is this your move then?" you teased, though your voice was slightly uneven.

His lips ghosted over your jaw as he hummed, "What move would that be, love?"

You swallowed, heartbeat unsteady. "Oh, come on. You know. The one that drives all the girls mad with desire." You tried to sound mocking, but it barely landed.

He chuckled, low and knowing. "Depends." His thumb stroked idly along your cheek. "Do you feel mad with desire?"

Your pulse stuttered. You hated how good he was at this.

"I bet you’d just love for me to say yes, wouldn’t you?" you challenged.

"You will," he said, completely self-assured.

Then, he dipped his head, lips grazing over the curve of your neck.

You sucked in a sharp breath, body tensing as he found a particularly sensitive spot. He lingered there, lips warm, tongue darting out just slightly. Testing. Teasing.

You could feel his smirk against your skin.

And then he bit down. Not hard, but just enough. Enough to send a shock straight through you.

A strangled sound tore from your throat before you could stop it.

Noel pulled back slightly, just enough to meet your eyes, a smug look settling on his face.

"Bastard," you muttered, though there was no real heat behind it.

He only grinned, unbothered, before moving to the other side of your neck, continuing his slow, torturous assault.

You pressed your lips together, refusing to give him the satisfaction of another noise. But then, one particularly well-placed kiss just below your ear had a soft whine slipping out before you could stop it.

Noel pulled back again, eyes dark, lips wet.

"Feeling mad yet?"

You exhaled sharply, realization hitting you. This was payback. For last time. You were going to have to admit to something if this was going to continue. And god you wanted it to continue. 

"Absolutely barmy," you muttered, conceding just this once.

His smirk widened before his lips crashed onto yours again, this time with a heated urgency that made you lightheaded. Your hands roamed him, desperate to feel as much as you could.

You weren’t sure how this would end, but right now you didn’t care. You just wanted more.

You pulled him toward your bed, kicking off your shoes, heat pooling low in your stomach as he pressed his body flush against yours. His breath was heavy, lips brushing along your jaw as his hands skimmed down your sides.

He exhaled a quiet laugh. "I haven’t been able to stop thinking about touching you. You didn’t let me get a turn last time." 

Your stomach tightened, heat licking up your spine. You tilted your head, lips grazing the shell of his ear. "Then you’d better make the most of it, yeah?"

A low sound rumbled in his chest, his grip tightening on your hips as he pushed you back onto the mattress, covering you with his body. His fingers traced the curve of your jaw, his gaze dark and searching.

"You always such a tease?" His voice was low, almost accusing.

You smirked, fingers threading through his hair. "You always so easy?"

For a second, you let yourself soak in the weight of him, the heat rolling off his skin, the way his breathing had shifted. Then, with a slow grin, you flipped him onto his back and straddled his hips.

A surprised sound escaped him, low and unguarded. His hands instinctively found your waist, fingers pressing into the fabric of your dress. The shift left only the thin barrier of your underwear between your aching core and the rough denim of his jeans. The friction sent a delicious shiver up your spine, your breath catching in your throat.

Noel shuddered beneath you. For a moment you wondered if he wasn’t comfortable with this dynamic again. But when you met his gaze, you searched his eyes for any hint. There was no sign of hesitation, no resistance—just raw, unfiltered desire. The realization sent a fresh wave of heat surging through you. 

You leaned down, pressing slow kisses along his jaw, trailing down his neck as your fingers worked open the buttons of his shirt. When it fell open, you let your nails drag lightly up his chest, reveling in the way his breath stuttered.

Then, unable to help yourself, you brushed a thumb over one of his nipples just to see what he’d do.

A strangled groan tore from his throat, his head tipping back against the pillows. The sound, deep and wrecked, sent a sharp pulse straight between your legs.

You were mesmerized. You needed to hear more. You moved to the other, teasing it with the same deliberate touch.

This time, the noise that left him was broken, raw, coming from somewhere deep inside him. The sound sent sharp heat twisting through you, your clit jumping at the noise. The need was possessing you, urging you to draw more out. 

You bent to kiss down his heaving chest. You couldn’t resist flicking your tongue over the hardened bud. This time his hand flew to your hair, and a breathless, high-pitched noise escaped him.

"Fuck—" His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. "Please, I... I can't—"

"I know you can," you spoke against his skin, trailing your lips lower, down his stomach.

He shivered beneath you, body taut with tension. His breath came in uneven, shallow gasps, and you relished every single one.

You traced your fingers over the sensitive skin just above his belt, feeling him tense beneath you. Then, dazedly, you murmured against his stomach, "Do you let other people see you like this?"

His breath hitched. "Not often," he admitted, voice strained. "Doesn’t fit the image."

"Shame." You pressed an open-mouthed kiss just above his waistband. "You’re so pretty like this."

A weak laugh escaped him, breathless. "Pretty. That’s a new one."

You glanced up at him, your fingers toying with his belt. "But you are. And the noises you make are also so, so pretty."

He exhaled sharply, like your words had knocked the wind out of him.

"You have no idea what you're doing to me," he muttered, voice wrecked, desperate.

You grinned, trailing your fingers lower. "Oh, I think I have some idea."

You pressed your palm against the bulge beneath his jeans, feeling him jolt beneath you.

You reached for his zipper, hands eager, impatient. The rasp of metal sounded loud in the quiet room as you shoved his jeans down, dragging them off with no pretense.

Then your eyes landed on him.

The thick strain against his boxers, the way a damp patch was spreading at the front. Your mouth went completely dry.

Noel was panting now, his chest rising and falling in ragged gasps. "Love, you need to—"

His words were cut off by a strangled moan the second your fingers traced over him, pressing just enough to make him twitch beneath your touch.

You exhaled sharply, warmth pooling low in your stomach. He was right there in front of you, already leaking through the fabric, the evidence of his need making you lightheaded. Your breath ghosted over him before you leaned in, brushing your lips over the damp spot.

Then, with a slow pull, you closed your mouth around it, sucking gently through the fabric.

Noel let out a ragged curse, his hips jerking up against you. "Fuck."

The desperation in his voice sent a fresh wave of arousal straight through you.

Hooking your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, you dragged them down, drinking in the sight of him. The way his cock bobbed, standing heavy against his stomach, had something hot and primal unraveling inside you.

A small, unguarded whimper escaped him, his hands clenching into the sheets so tightly his knuckles went white.

You flicked your tongue over the bead of precum gathering at his tip, tasting the saltiness of him.

His entire body shuddered and a broken moan tore from his throat, raw and wrecked. He seemed to be struggling to form words, his lips parting, closing again, as if searching for something to say.

But he didn’t need to. You could see the silent pleading in his eyes.

And christ it undid you.

The heat coiling low in your stomach was nearing a breaking point, the relentless throb between your legs getting to be too much. You wanted to keep tasting him, wanted to hear more of those breathless, ruined sounds. But if you did, you knew he wasn’t going to last. And you needed him inside you.

Now.

Without a word, you spun, moving your hair over your shoulder. "Help me out."

His hands were shaking as he reached for you, dragging the zipper of your dress down in one slow, trembling motion, exposing every inch of you. His fingers traced along your spine, and goosebumps skittered across your skin in response.

You let the rest of the dress slip off, stepping out of your underwear in one fluid movement before turning back to him.

Noel’s gaze swept over you, his jaw tight, hands clenching into fists as if he were holding himself back.

Not for long.

You captured his mouth in a slow, deep kiss, guiding him back onto the bed, settling over him once again.

His hands grasped at your body, touch hot and desperate, sending wave after wave of need crashing through you. Your bodies were flush, nothing between you now, and the feeling of him hard against you sent a helpless moan tumbling from your lips.

You grasped him, positioning yourself over him, your breath coming in shallow, uneven pants.

"Can I?" you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

Noel’s pupils were blown wide, his lips parted as he looked up at you, utterly wrecked. He nodded, unable to form a single word.

Slowly, you began to sink down onto him, gasping at the stretch, at the heat, the way he filled you completely. Your fingers dug into his chest as you took him inch by inch, your thighs shaking from how overwhelming it felt.

His hands shot to your hips, gripping you like a lifeline as a strangled moan tore from his throat.

You could feel him deep inside you as you finally seated yourself against him. You took a moment to adjust, shivering at the contact. The white-hot heat in your veins was everywhere.

"Fuck," he choked out, his voice breaking. His body trembled beneath you, every muscle tensed, struggling to hold on.

You glanced down at him, and his dark, desperate gaze met yours.

"Christ, you feel so incredible," he rasped, voice wrecked and rough. "Need you—fuck, I need—" His words dissolved into a sharp gasp as you shifted slightly, searching for the right angle.

You settled a hand against his chest and rolled your hips experimentally. The reaction was immediate.

A guttural moan tore from his throat, his hands tightening on your hips, guiding you into a rhythm he clearly needed just as badly as you did.

Your body was drowning in sensation. Every nerve alight, every muscle quivering, every inch of you focused on where you were joined. You rocked against him, getting lost in the pleasure. 

You barely registered when he planted his heels into the mattress, bracing himself. But you felt it the second he used all his force to thrust up to meet you.

A sharp, helpless cry ripped from your lips.

The force of it would have knocked you off balance if he hadn’t been gripping you so tightly, keeping you flush against him as he snapped his hips upward again.

"Fuck—Noel." His name broke from your lips as another surge of pleasure hit you like a shockwave.

Each thrust sent lightning shooting down your spine, pleasure so intense it was almost unbearable. You tried to meet him, to match his rhythm, but the way he was hitting so deep, so perfectly, made it nearly impossible to keep control.

You felt him everywhere. Filling you, consuming you. It was dizzying.

His grip on your hips tightened suddenly, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulled you down onto him harder, deeper. His own hips surged up to meet you with every thrust, dragging you into the frantic, unrelenting pace he so badly needed.

The sounds filling the room were obscene—skin meeting skin, ragged breaths, broken moans spilling from both of you.

Your mind had gone completely blank, overtaken by pleasure, your body running purely on instinct. The only thought was ‘Noel Noel Noel’. Your own moans were getting higher, more desperate, your broken off sounds of "No-el" between each thrust spilling out. 

"Fuck—" his breath came in ragged, labored gasps, his words shattered. "You feel—so fucking—good—don’t stop—"

Your thighs were trembling from exertion, but stopping wasn’t an option. Not when you were this close. Not when every nerve was buzzing, your entire body tightening around him, the telltale buildup coiling inside you like a live wire ready to snap.

"You’re so close, love," he groaned, his grip tightening. "I can feel it—I need you to—please—I can’t hold on much longer—"

His plea sent another wave of heat crashing through you, tipping you closer to the edge.

Desperate, you moved a hand between you, flicking his nipple again, watching as he arched into your touch with a helpless, ruined moan.

"Fuck—" His voice broke. His hips stuttered, losing rhythm. "You’re gonna make me—fuck—I can’t—"

Then one deep, perfectly-angled thrust sent you spiraling.

Pleasure crashed over you like a tidal wave, your body seizing as you cried out his name. Your walls clenched around him, dragging him over the edge with you.

A strangled moan ripped from his throat as he came, his hands gripping you so hard you were sure there would be bruises. His release flooded inside you in sharp, pulsing waves.

You collapsed against him, body giving out entirely. Every muscle felt spent, useless, like you’d been wrung dry. His chest rose and fell beneath you in quick, uneven bursts, both of you still gasping for air.

For a long, breathless moment, the only thing in the world was the two of you. Bodies tangled, limbs shaking, lungs fighting for air.

You figured you should get off him to allow him to fully breathe. You slid off and onto your stomach, melting into the mattress. You could feel him leaking out of you and onto the sheets, but you made no move to stop it. 

Then finally, finally, the world came back into focus.

Noel shifted onto his side as he caught his breath, his fingertips resting along your spine in slow, soothing strokes. The touch sent a shiver through you, but not from arousal this time. It was something softer, something more dangerous.

The intensity of what had just occurred was overwhelming, but unlike last time, you didn’t feel the need to run.

His voice broke the quiet, rough with exhaustion. "You alright?"

You forced yourself to lift your head, meeting his gaze. His blue eyes were heavy-lidded, searching yours.

"I think so," you murmured, still breathless.

His fingers brushed damp strands of hair back from your face, the gesture unexpectedly tender. "You’re shaking," he noted, voice softer now.

You blinked. You hadn’t even realized.

Something stirred inside you at his tone. It was unfamiliar—giddy, weightless. It felt like… affection. A small smile tugged at your lips before you even realized you were doing it.

"Yeah well that’s entirely your fault," you mumbled.

He huffed out a quiet laugh before tugging you closer. His fingers resumed their slow, steady circles, and the warmth of it seeped into you, easing some of the lingering tremors.

This kind of intimacy wasn’t something you were used to. Fucking him was one thing, but this… this was something else entirely. Something you weren’t sure you should allow. But you weren’t stopping him either.

If this was what the real Noel Gallagher was like then you were in trouble.

You laid there for a moment before a nagging thought entered your mind. "I’m sorry I left you in that field."

He stilled for half a second, body tensing before he relaxed again.

"I think I was scared," you admitted. "So I ran. I’m not even sure what I was scared of, really. But… I am sorry."

Noel exhaled through his nose, considering. "I get it," he said finally. "I’m sorry if I was being, uh… too much."

You let out a quiet laugh. "No, I liked it," you confessed, cheeks heating. "I think that’s what scared me. Everything changed so fast, and I wasn’t ready for it."

A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, but his eyes were warm. "Well I’ve been known to overwhelm people with emotions."

You nudged him playfully, laughing.

"Don’t deny it, love," he teased, his voice dipping into that cocky lilt again. "You know you can’t resist me. I’m magnetic."

"Don’t you start with that again," you warned, pushing up onto your elbows.

He let out a low chuckle, but his gaze flickered down, roaming over your body now that you weren’t caught up in the haze of lust. His expression shifted, less teasing, more appreciative.

"Oh, but it’s true," he replied, his tone cheeky and playful. "You’re completely captivated by me."

You pursed your lips, fighting back a smile. "That’s yet to be proven."

"Is that so?" he murmured. He closed the space between you with a soft kiss. "I think I’m more than capable of proving it to you."

Then, in one swift motion, he flipped you onto your back, drawing a startled laugh from your throat. He grinned against your skin, pressing playful kisses along your jaw, your cheek, your neck.

"See?" he said, punctuating his words with another kiss. "Captivated."

You laughed breathlessly, fingers tangling in his hair.

You were starting to think he might be right.

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

I know this is another Noel post but I pinky promise that I have concepts of a plan for a Liam post coming next. 

[la-gotica-fantasma]

8 realistic situations to add to your writing -

Disclaimers: I cannot stress enough that I am not at all trying to tell you what to write, these are just some concepts / prompts. - My title does not mean that your more lovey-dovey scenes are unrealistic, I just couldn't think of how to title this - Some of these are scenes that have been used in my writing, so if by the off chance you are using any of these, please don’t copy the dialogue word for word. :}

ROMANTIC -

1) When both of them are cuddling / holding hands and one of them starts sweating.

★ “Ugh! I love you, but I don’t love all this sweat you produce!” “But it’s my love for you seeping out of my pores!” “I couldn't care less what it is. Off!” “Fine, your majesty.”

2) Each character hating their mother in law / partners mother

★ “Mom is asking to visit.” “And do what?” “I’m not sure, check up on everyone?” “She can check up her own ass for the stick I know she’s lost up there.”

★ “Well, your mother is no saint.” “She never claimed to be!” “Uh-huh, and when has mine?” “Circa-” “Okay! Truce?” “Truce.”

3) Character X bringing up a pet peeve they have with Character Y at a family gathering.

★ “Character Y does this one thing when they eat- they never scoop up their food with their fork, they’ll just attack it! Sometimes I can’t stand it.” “You never told me that bothered you?” “It didn’t bother me enough to mention it.” “Not until a family dinner?” “I didn’t mean anything negative by it-” **cue Character Y aggressively attacking their food with their fork** “Okay, I get it! We’ll talk later.”

4) Character X and Character Y bake with each other, except realistically.

★ “Character X, why are your arms wrapped around me?” “Because I love you.” “I love you too but I also love being able to actually mix the ingredients together.”

★ “Get the eggs!” “You told me to stop buying eggs because ‘inflation will kill us all’.” “I wasn’t wrong but, UGH-! I need eggs!” “Well I got them anyway, but still.”

★ “Stop touching things!” “How am I supposed to bake without touching anything?!” “You aren’t!”

5) Planning lies they'll tell in 5 years when people ask how they met.

★ "What if we say that we were playing bumper cars and I hit you so hard I fell into your car?" "Hmm.. how about we say that I was going to my best friends wedding and I was all down and glum, but a friend of mine told me to 'have some fun' and that maybe I'd meet someone special at the wedding, and that's when I saw you. You and a little yellow umbrella that I've seen in so many places before, and we just talked about our past together?" "I think that's been done before." "By who?" "One of the most popular rom-coms ever aired."

★ "We could say I saved you from-" "I'm gonna stop you right there." "Fine. What's your idea then, if you're so smart?" "We tell them we met in a psychiatric ward." "Wow. Exquisite thinking." "Just imagine the looks on their faces!"

PLATONIC / ROMANTIC -

6) Those moments where neither party can decide on something so they do nothing, only for them both to yell out what they want and it coincidentally be an agreement.

★ “What do you want for dinner?” “I’m not sure, what do you want?” “I dunno.” **cue them both lazing around, doing nothing for minutes** “Spaghetti.” “It’s like you can read my mind.”

7) Character X asking Character Y how their day went, and Character Y just breaks down in tears- not because their day was bad, but just because Character X asked.

★ “Hi, how was work?” **cue ‘ugly’ sobbing** “Oh no, was it really that bad?” “No- It just- It was just- sweet to- ask-”

8) Stuff that should be awkward really not being awkward at all.

★ “Did you just fart?” “Yeah.” “Okay, good.” “‘Good’?” “Good that it’s not a gas leak.” “Yeah, I had to force it out a little bit.” "So definitely not a leak." "Definitely not."

p.s. Your writing is captivating as always suga, and I am abidingly proud of you and your work. <3

Morbid affection,

- Tipsy ᓚᘏᗢ