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eee-lordy · 1 year ago

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Hiiii! Can you write about jacob elordi x fem reader who is in charge of the makeup and outfits on saltburn or elvis?

Maybe there is a video going viral where he is looking at her (WITH THOSE PUPPY DOG EYES HAHSHAJDVDSJ IM GONNA EAT HIM) while she is doing his make up and she is clueless, yk those videos where the music is lana del rey and the caption is like "me when im literaly obsessed with her" or "when hes completely in love with u>>>>>"

And when that goes viral, the cast teases him and they go on a date?

Idk i think its cute :3

───※ ·❆· ※───

You were never one to get star struck. In the year and a half you'd been professionally applying makeup to the mugs of many stars, you'd been unfazed by celebrities captivating auras. You hardly blushed when Chris Pine tried asking you out as he sat in your makeup chair. You'd laughed in understandable assurance as Billie Eilish apologized for almost knocking your powder kit from your grasp; when her brother burst in the room to surprise her. You saw your clients as just that, people who trusted you to properly apply blush and fake scars.

But all the composure you'd been proud to claim went out the window when you'd been assigned to work with the cast of Sofia Coppola new film. You hadn't expected to lose your cool. In fact, you'd been rolling your eyes as the hair stylist that shared your caravan had droned on and on about this new Elordi fellow and how dreamy he was. Some of the other workers in the hair and makeup department parroted her yearning for the guy. But you were certain you'd remain calm and cool in this supposed deities presence.

And then he sat down in your chair. And he looked up to you with an intriguing set of droopy dark eyes. And you knew Jacob Elordi was about to be a real problem for you.

It wasn't his fame. You weren't swept up by his essence because of the collective crowd on the internet drooling over the guy. It wasn't even his magnetism. Because he did have a lot of that, you wavered it was necessary to survive fame. But it was more the way he would look up at you from that make up chair. With those dumb stupid big beautiful eyes. And his smile that followed. And then the infuriating way he'd start conversations with you, those first few days on set.

"What'd you have for breakfast this morning?" Jacob would wonder, watching as you readied a sponge. You would answer and ask for his in return. He would mention stopping by a cafe earlier and go on to ask you where you grew up and if you liked it there and what the best book you've ever read was called.

"You've got to stop chatting away, makes it hard to do your touch up's." You'd smile, reaching out to adjust Jacobs perfect fucking face so you could work on his brows.

"Sorry." He breathed out, seemingly genuinely guilty. He went on explaining himself still, slowly as you continued to do your job. "Don't like awkward silence. Or bullshit small talk. Getting to know you seemed like the safest route. Since you'll be covering the dark circles under my eye's this whole shoot."

You laughed in understanding before announcing that you got it, and waved over the hairdresser on site today.

"Wait, before you go, that book you mentioned..." Jacob pointed your way as you turned for closing up your kit of brushes. Then you watched as the guy wrestled his cellphone from his jacket pocket. "Here," Jacob said, extending the device your way. "Write the title in my notes app. I will forget, but I don't want too. It sounded properly readable."

"Oh." You turned your lips down in a twisted grin of surprise. As you took the device from Jacob's grasp, you felt a surge of gratification that the guy trusted you enough with his phone let alone wanted to read a book you mention not having read since uni.

Not missing the way the hairdresser rolled her eyes, you grinned and found Jacobs notes app with ease, straining not to glance beyond your means. With the press of a few buttons you wrote down the title, and fought off the impulsive urge to include your very own phone number as well. That would be embarrassing, knowing full well this man would never call or text or probably even dare to glance your way beyond the makeup chair.

///

The next few weeks went by the same. Jacob would yammer away until you almost had to hold his mouth shut to finish his makeup. And you would fill the silence by telling stories of your own, because he'd mentioned he wasn't fond of silence and you knew your job went beyond applying lip liner, it was also to keep celebrities happy as royalty.

And all the while you blinked away thoughts of how funny he was. How beautiful Jacob was. You wouldn't let yourself realize he was exactly your type. You wouldn't let yourself dream that you might be his. You simply relished the times you made him laugh. Once you made him laugh so hard he cried, tear tracks ruining the powder you'd only just applied.

The hairdresser who was the leader of fawning over Jacob as soon as he left the room had taken to frowning in your direction most days. You reckoned it was because she'd never been able to make him laugh that hard, or at all, ever. And the stories she told him when he asked her to seemed to lose his interest halfway through every time. Try as Jacob might, you saw his eyes glaze over as the hairstylist droned on about her retirement plan or the grocery list she'd put together that day.

After acknowledging her sorry excuse for conversation Jacob would stop you from packing up and heading to lunch so he could ask you for more books to read, more films to watch, more stories from you. Then his assistant would interrupt, or he'd be called to set and you'd be left to head to the craft table with dangerous feelings of lust and intrigue to push away. You would not let this boy break you of your career long streak of professionalism, damn it.

///

One night, in the middle of a week break from set, you spent an evening scrolling mindlessly. When a tiktok with Jacob's name in the tags popped up, you scrolled away at the speed of light. You didn't let yourself linger too long on posts with him there, not wanting to know anything good bad or otherwise so long as you were assigned to work with him on this project. But it wasn't long before another tiktok popped up featuring the guy in a very familiar setting. He was too famous at this point. You watched as you saw leaked footage from behind the scenes of Priscilla, but weren't too shocked. The stars of the film were occasionally being interviewed by publicists between takes to document their experience, beginning to promote the film.

And maybe you let yourself keep watching out of a sense of entitlement, you'd been working on this set. You could watch a video of Jacob from work, right? You couldn't tear your eyes from him no matter how hard you tried now anyway. You watched as the person holding the camera zoomed in on the guy while he adjusted his suit jacket. You watched as he seemed to talk to the costars at his side. You watched as he looked up and smiled. And you couldn't help but melt a little at the sight, he seemed so happy, so at ease. And then you watched as Jacob's grin widened as he waved someone closer. And much to your horror, you saw yourself step into frame.

You remembered that day, where you waited on the side lines to fix Cailee's eyeliner. While the director was storming up a new camera angle, Jacob waved you over to mention the last chapter of your favorite book he'd almost finished reading. He was laughing over a bit that you'd warned him about the week before. And you were laughing over how excited he was about it, finally having someone to gush over your favorite plot with.

Now, huddled beneath the blankets of your bed, you slammed your phone down at your side, bewildered to know someone had caught your interaction on camera. Raddled to have just seen Jacob lighting up at the sight of you. Angry at yourself for hopping you'd read his body language in a way that suggested he really liked you that much.

When you picked your phone back up, you watched the candid moment over and over, trying to debunk Jacob's smile. Trying to convince yourself he was only being friendly, only cared because he had to find someone to mingle with during down beats.

And then you read the comments.

"If Jacob smiled at me like that, I would die."

"Imagine making him laugh like that she's so lucky."

"Who is she??" One comment read. "Her last name will be Elordi if he hasn't married her already, calling it." Someone replied.

You shouldn't have read the comments.

///

When you were due back on set you swallowed away the excitement bubbling up in you at the prospect of seeing Jacob again. This was so unlike you, to be awaiting the arrival of your client with an embarrassing giddiness. As you reminded yourself that this was your job and Jacob was simply a guest in your makeup chair- the man himself eased into the caravan, ready to get ready for the day.

"Hey, you! I had a bunch of points earned up to get two free coffees so I brought you one. I remember you said you like almond milk so I asked for that." Jacob was all smiles as he extended a latte to you. Awe fuck.

"Thank you, Jacob." You struggled not to sigh with angst as you accepted his very generous surprise. Luckily, he seemed none the wiser that you'd answered through gritted teeth. He just kept smiling as he headed to your chair.

"Oh, me first today lovie. Need to start your dye straight off, you're little makeup girlfriend will have to wait." The hairdresser announced, daring to grab Jacob by his sleeve, yanking him toward her end of the trailer. The other workers around rolled their eyes, sick of her endless commentary. You bit your tongue as you leaned against the counter, shaking your head when a coworker scoffed in the hairdresser's direction. Luckily, Cailee waltz in, ready for you before anyone else. You thanked God for the distraction, readying your brow pencil and chatted to the girl about her break from set.

All the while, your least favorite coworkers voice demanded to be the loudest in the room. She made everyone listen to some boring ass story and practically whinnied when Jacob got up to trade Cailee places.

"No offence, you're fine and all, just don't have hair as silky smooth as Jacob's." The hairdresser told Cailee but made sure her comment was loud enough for everyone to hear. "Oh wait, silly me,"

As Jacob settled in the makeup chair and began to ask if the drink he'd brought you was good, the hairdresser of your nightmares shoved her way between you and the person you were meant to be working on.

"I left of a bobby pin, how'd I forget," She droned in an annoying pitch, nearly shoving you over in her attempt to get closer to Jacob.

"Can you please get out of my space?" You called, annoyed that she was pushing you away from your station without a single polite excuse.

"Can you please stop being such a jealous bitch?" The hairdresser whipped to face you with a manic smile.

"Oh my God?" You almost laughed in shock at her comment when another coworker dared to reach out and pulled her away, and out of the trailer. Another hairdresser apologized to the room for the previous girl's behavior and stepped up to lead charge of Cailee's wig.

With no time to shake the rage that had been born in you, you pushed it down, biting your lip hard as you went about finding the right sponge for Jacob's foundation.

"Are you okay?" He asked, seemingly worried. And that pissed you off too. Why'd he have to act like he cared so much? Why'd he have to be so damn wonderful?

"I'm fine. Thank you again for the coffee, it...is kind of bitter but it was a really sweet gesture, I swear. Close your eye's please." You responded as calm and cool as possible.

"Bitter... sweet..." Jacob winked, just for you to see. It was the best thing you'd ever witness. And the worst all the same. You were sure you blushed. You tilted his chin and struggling to suppress how much you'd miss when you didn't get to be this close to him. He stayed quiet as you finished his face, and so did you. When his makeup was done, almost everyone else had left the trailer. The last remaining beautician was walking out as you'd closed the case to your kit.

"I thought you didn't like awkward silence." You dared to mention, as Jacob stood to leave. It wasn't like you'd thought to ask. It was just a thought that ended up blurted out. And then you were bold enough still to look up and right at the guy with those perfectly shaped eyes to find he'd already been staring right at you.

"S'not so awkward with you."

You really wish he hadn't said that. You really wished you'd never prompted him too. You really wished he wasn't still standing there looking across the features of your face like he was waiting on you to respond. There was a knock on the door just in time, and a voice calling for Jacob to hurry to set.

"I'll see you after lunch, right?" Jacob wondered as he moved toward the door. You muttered something like "Yeah sure," as you turned to start collecting your things. As far as Jacob knew you were headed to the craft table. But as your feet started marching out of the trailer, you found yourself headed toward the manager of the crew you'd been hired in with. You explained to her that you really thought it was best you turned in your resignation.

You'd never dared yourself to tread the line during work. Never been so enamored with someone you were meant to be professional with. It wasn't in your best interest to see how far this went. And it wasn't in Jacobs best interest that you kept lingering around distracting him with stories and novel suggestions.

So, on a decided whim, you packed your things, swallowed frustrated tears, and headed home for good.

///

You let yourself be mad once your front door was shut and locked. You threw away the stupid coffee Jacob bought you. You turned the telly off and tossed the remote toward the hardwood when Euphoria came on. You muttered and cursed and slammed cabinets as you made a carb heavy comfort meal and called your best friend.

The day went on and turned to night as you tried to stop feeling sorry for yourself. You began getting ready for bed, talking yourself into sleeping off all the weird feelings and events that had transpired today. Tomorrow, you'd find a new job and make sure to decline any with that one awful hairdressers name on the list of beauticians.

As you sat on the edge of your bed and set a reminder for yourself to job hunt tomorrow afternoon, a notification interrupted your typing.

Instagram was alerting you that one certain Jacob Elordi was sending you a fucking message. He'd followed you a couple weeks ago, when you handed him your phone to show him a picture of your beloved childhood pet. He scrolled away from it and found your handle to promptly pull up on his very own Instagram, following you with a smile.

Your eyes widened and your thumb worked faster than your brain, clicking the popup before you could talk yourself out of it. Oh, shit now he was going to know you opened his fucking stupid ass message. You really wished you hadn't met this boy. He wasn't even here and he was torturing your every thought.

"You were NOT there after lunch as promised. Call me? xx"

Before your eyes displayed a row of numbers that if pressed would call Jacob Elordi's cell phone. You tried really hard to talk yourself out of it. But being away from him for the last ten hours had really done a number on your heart. It missed him more than your brain was afraid to admit. Your thumb clicked the numbers. Your phone started to ring.

After one buzz he answered.

"I got off set to hear you'd quit and left me to bear that horrid hairdresser without you? Was the coffee really that bad?" Jacob's voice crackled through the line, soft and saccharine. You chuckled morosely at his coffee joke before responding.

"No pleasant greeting. What if it wasn't me calling? What if it was some crazy fan girl?" You dared to venture.

"Are you saying you're not a fan of mine?"

You wanted to assure him that you were probably his biggest, but sighed in place of a response, struggling to choose your words.

"What happened? That hairdresser should be fired. You shouldn't've left." Jacob spoke, as you watched the traffic out your window and relished the sound of his voice in your ear.

"It..." You couldn't help it. You couldn't hide it any longer. "It wasn't really her. I quit because of you, Jacob."

"Me? I- I'm sorry I thought we-" He sounded too worried, and you realized you'd spoken a little too cryptically.

"Not because you did anything wrong." You hurried to explain, interrupting his unnecessary apology. "It's me, not you."

"Is this a break up? I never even got to ask you on a proper date." He laughed a humorless laugh.

"That's the thing." You said. "I like you way more than I should've ever let myself. It's too unprofessional for me to work with you and have these feelings. I'm sorry, I shouldn't even be telling you this. Everyone treats you like a piece of meat, I hate that I-"

"So... what I'm hearing..." Jacob's voice rose a bit as he interrupted you, catching your attention off guard. "Is that I can actually ask you on a proper date? And this doesn't have to be a break up at all."

"Oh! I- wait are you joking?" You blurted, shocked by the tone of his voice and the fact that it seemed like Jacob Elordi was asking you out.

"I like you too, dummy. I've been doing my damnedest to make that clear. You know I don't just follow every wardrobe artist on Instagram and bring camera men cafe treats. I used my free coffee on you! I'm so sorry it was no good though."

"It wasn't the worst coffee ever." You smiled, feeling a calm and hopeful buzz wash over you.

"Well, let me take you on a proper date, for a proper cup of coffee, and talk you back on set."

"I can date you, or be your makeup artist, but I will not allow myself to do both. I have a very strict moral compass as a working lady."

"I'll choose the first option then by a long shot." You could hear Jacob's smile in the tone of his voice. You let him ramble a little longer about the day he'd had and how bad he felt that you'd been moved to quit. He asked you to meet him at the cafe across from the set during lunch tomorrow, and you promised you would in fact show up without a doubt this time.

Fuck finding a new job tomorrow. You were going on an absolute dream date with Jacob. But you were most definitely ordering your own coffee.

#thanks nonny! this was really fun to write #jacob elordi fanfic #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi x fem!reader #jacob elordi

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iwritefandomimagines · 1 year ago

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CHRISTMAS SPIRIT — JESS MARIANO

masterlist

pairing: jess mariano x reader

description: decorating luke’s for christmas reminds you how far from festive jess is. but it might also lead to confessions that put him much more in the christmas spirit.

warnings: little swearing. fluff !!!

author’s note: shoutout to i’ll be home for christmas in this imagine is because it’s my all time fave xmas film and i had a HUGE crush on jonathan taylor thomas as a child because of it. it’s also not super long but i made sure it’s not too short… anyway ENJOY! <3

“Y’know, I don’t see why you have to be such a Grinch,” you pulled the candy cane from between your lips as Jess scoffed, “All Luke asked was for us to put up a few decorations. Even he has more fucking Christmas spirit than you!”

Jess rolled his eyes, “Oh sure, because I’m usually so enthusiastic about stuff like this. How out of character of me,” he paused to touch his forehead with the back of his hand, “I must be getting ill.”

You tutted, placing the last of your candy cane back into your mouth with a crunch! and folding your arms across your chest.

He quirked his brow, waiting for a snarky response that never came.

Instead, you turned on your heels and headed over to the stereo, flicking the switch and resuming the Christmas CD you’d been listening to before he’d grumpily trundled down the stairs into the diner.

“Oh God,” Jess groaned, “Do you seriously enjoy torturing me?”

You scoffed, “Do you want the honest answer?”

It was at that moment Luke briefly poked his head round the corner, “What are you two bickering about now?”

You crossed your arms over your chest as Jess did the exact same thing, except with a huge wad of tinsel now attached to his sweater.

He waved his arm around frantically as you burst out laughing at his desperate attempt to rid himself of the sparkly red decoration, “For fu—,”

“Ask Ebenezer Scrooge over here,” you teased, freeing Jess of the tinsel by yanking it away as Luke rolled his eyes, “Just help her out, Jess.”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Being a moron.”

“Fork found in kitchen,” you mumbled, earning a glare from Jess, “We’re nearly done, c’mon.”

Jess fought back a smirk, folding his arms again and shaking his head, “You’re a pain in the ass, Y/N.”

“At least I’m a festive pain in the ass,” you sing-songed, twirling tinsel around the cash register as he laughed at you, “Hey, I can see a smile there! He can smile! What a heartthrob. I could almost mistake you for Jonathan Taylor Thomas in I’ll Be Home for Christmas.”

“I look like who from what?” Jess contorted his face in confusion, unsure whether what you were saying was a compliment.

Kirk appeared out of nowhere beside you both, an inquisitive expression on his face, “Jonathan Taylor Thomas from the 1998 Christmas movie I’ll Be Home for Christmas. I have to say I think you’re wrong though, Y/N. He doesn’t have nearly as much of his boyish charm.”

You burst out laughing again, clasping your hand to your mouth as you watched Jess blush just a little as he stood slack-jawed.

“Boyish charm? I’ve got plenty of boyish charm,” Jess scoffed, puffing out his chest, “Why do I look like him anyway?”

“Oh, you don’t,” Kirk shrugged, “Y/N just has a crush on him and a crush on you.”

“Ok that’s quite enough from you Kirk,” It was your turn to blush crimson now as you gestured towards the tables, “We’re not even open yet. You—uh— just go sit down.”

“A crush on me, huh?” Jess was smirking now, and you couldn’t tell if the bubbling in your stomach was sheer embarrassment or excitement at the way he was looking at you.

Obviously, it was both.

You shook your head, “Oh, ‘cause you should totally trust Kirk.”

Jess quirked his eyebrow, “When it comes to town gossip, I’d say I do.”

You looked down at your feet, cheeks still incredibly warm and your heart palpitating so hard you were sure it’d burst out of your chest at any moment.

“You know, you’ve gone bright red. So red in fact that I think it’s put me in a festive mood,” Jess quipped smugly, elbow on the counter as he leaned a little closer to you.

You scoffed, “It took me being embarrassed to feel festive?”

Jess shook his head, and said nothing for a moment.

You wondered whether he was about to embarrass you even further, but his expression softened so much that it confused you.

“No, it took being told that you do like me,” he shrugged, but he was clearly not as nonchalant about it as he was trying to appear, “To save me the embarrassment of a not so festive rejection under the many, many Christmas lights— seriously why do we need so fuckin’ many?”

Your heart swelled at his initial words, but you rolled your eyes yet again at his grumbling about the Christmas lights, “It’s Christmas, Jess. And so pretty.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Jess was quieter as he spoke now, his eyes twinkling as he moved even closer to you, “So pretty.”

Now you were certain that every drop of blood had rushed to your cheeks, the intensity of his stare making you bite your lip and look away again.

His hand lifted up to touch your cheek, drawing your eyes back to meet his.

Your mouth had gone dry, and you couldn’t help but notice how carefully he watched your lips as your tongue swiped over them.

“You—I—We need to finish decorating and open up, Jess,” you stammered, but Jess wasn’t letting you get out of this conversation now.

“If it wasn’t for Kirk, I’d really like to kiss you right now,” he looked briefly away and saw that Kirk had seemingly entirely disappeared, “Oh, it might be my lucky day. Now I’m really feeling festive.”

You giggled, “Then what—what’re you waiting for?”

He didn’t waste a moment after that, immediately capturing your lips with his as you leaned into his chest.

The kiss was short lived, but you almost didn’t mind because your mind was racing at the fact that it was actually even happening at all.

Jess beamed across at you as you pulled back, your eyes locked on each other for a fair few moments of silence.

“I’m finally in the Christmas spirit, Y/N,” he sing-songed as he finally broke the silence, still staring intently at you as you shivered under his gaze, “So much so that I think I’d like to go watch the town Christmas lights being switched on tonight. If you’re up for it. If not, like, whatever. Just a suggestion. Since you love Christmas and—,”

You laughed, placing a hand on his bicep to interrupt his rambling, “I’d really like that, Jess. Even if you are going to drive me nuts complaining about the lights, it’d be nice to go. Like, together.”

Jess seemed pleased with that answer, a broad smile overtaking his face as he leaned in even closer, “It’s a date, then. And now we can get back to decorating.”

You bit your lip, “A date. Woah, Jess Mariano is taking me on a date to see the Christmas lights getting switched on. If I didn’t know any better I’d think I was still tucked up in bed dreaming.”

“I’m in your dreams a lot then, huh?” he teased, the smirk back gracing his features as you gently nudged his arm, “My nightmares, maybe.”

“Hm, guess you dream about that John Tyler guy more then,” he feigned offence, and despite mistaking the name you found his pout incredibly adorable.

You laughed, “Jonathan Taylor Thomas?”

“Mhm.”

“Don’t be jealous, Mariano,” you hummed, leaning into his side as you teased him.

“I’m not jealous,” he grunted, “What does he even look like anyway?”

You giggled, and he didn’t seem impressed by the way you went straight into your head thinking about the actor, “You’ll find out later when I force you to come back to mine and watch it with me after the lights are on.”

“No fuckin’ way!” he shook his head, and you forced a pout until he sighed, “Fine. Only because I like you. And I’m choosing our takeout if I’m going to be third-wheeling you and the TV on our first date.”

You grinned, “Fine by me. It’s a date!”

“A date? Finally, kid,” Luke reemerged for a moment again, poking his head around the corner of the kitchen.

“He’s taking me to see the Christmas lights being switched on,” you grinned, watching Luke’s brief shocked expression being quickly replaced by a small smile.

“The lights?” he repeated, and you nodded.

“I knew he liked you, I mean the whole town did. But it looks like he must really like you, huh?”

“Yeah,” you basically whispered, looking over at Jess for a moment and seeing him smiling softly at you despite his irritation at his uncle poking his nose in, “I guess he does.”

———

happy festive season guys!

this has been in the drafts for a couple weeks near finished but i’ve finally got it done now <3 might write some more festive imagines so if there are any characters you’d like to see that for then please let me know.

as usual — thanks for reading, here’s my masterlist if you’d like to read more of my stuff!

#jess mariano x you #jess mariano x y/n #jess mariano #jess mariano imagines #jess mariano x reader #jess mariano imagine #gilmore girls imagines #gilmore girls #gilmore girls imagine #milo ventimiglia

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totothewolff · 7 months ago

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Chemtrails Over the Yacht Club Collection

[🗯+18][👩‍❤️‍👨 Toto x reader(fem service staff)][💘 Romance][🥵Smut][🎀 Age-gap][❤️‍🔥Daddy Kink][🛳Yacht Culture][✍️WIP]

Summary: The number of sleepless nights you spend thinking about what you would say to his face, to that gorgeous, gorgeous face, if he ever dared to cross your path again. And here you have him, the fucker! Did he get amnesia or something?! Why is he acting so calm? As if Toto didn't leave you the way he did? The fact he still looks at you THAT way after all these years, and he is aging like a fine wine, looking even better with those couple of numbers added to his age. Still fit, still charming, still intimidating, still him, doesn't help you remain angry at him for abandoning the ship. No pun intended.

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3 - Not all who wander are lost

Your life after Toto and college has gotten much better. You like your current job. It's not the highest salary, but it's enough to enjoy yourself, buy cute clothes, and invest in revamping the apartment you once shared with your aunt.

It's nothing glamorous, though. It's just some cosmetic repairs and better decor, but you couldn't imagine affording it before.

Humidity is such a bitch in Monaco. There's more hidden inside those walls than you expected when you started restoring them.

Your phone buzzes in the front pocket of your washed-down tiny shorts, the ones you are wearing right now along with an old oversized T-shirt. A proper attire for working with paint!

A text from an unknown number got in.

"Are you in town?" it reads.

You dismiss it and continue your "Bob The Builder" activities.

"I'm near your place," comes a following text.

"Hi, wrong number! No idea who you are."

"This is Y/N's number, right?"

"Yes... but who is it?"

Now, you need help. You have all your friends and family in your contacts, and then a photo loads in the chat before you can text back.

It's a picture of one of Toto's hands. His long fingers appear in the snap as he is about to press the bell button of your unit's building.

It takes you a minute to grasp the reality of what the fuck is going on.

Okay, this is indeed happening.

This is not one of your fever dreams.

Don't panic! Don't panic!

Fuck. It's been a while.

Fuck! Fuck!

For the past four years, you have successfully avoided the thought of him.

You even feared it, back in the day, knowing quite well what the mementos of Toto did for your body and mind. A lethal cocktail for your mental health and well-being. Self-harm is a dangerous buddy you don't want to welcome back.

You did your best to get clean of him, casting Toto away from your soul and memory till there was left no trace of him in you at all.

And now this?! Shit.

But your body reacts on its own and instinctively for you, hitting the button for the entrance to get open so fast.

A buzzing sound on the front door allows Toto to access your building.

What the fuck?! What was that sort of Spider-Man reflex?! Girl, get yourself together, jeez.

Toto's footsteps on the stairs and a soft knock on your door follow.

You walk so quickly to get the door, more than you feel proud to admit, already feeling the self-love leaving your body by your actions.

Fuuuuuuck.

The view that greets you feels like something out of a stupid rom-com movie. Argh! Toto is the reason why you despise those films and distrust men, romance, and relationships.

He looks gorgeous as fuck! With that stupid beautiful face and those ridiculous bambi eyes, he is putting on, holding those stupid breathtaking flowers, and sporting that perfectly tailored suit, accentuating his best features.

He is aging like a fine wine and looks even better with those couple of years added to his age. Still fit, still charming, still intimidating, still him.

He is holding a massive bouquet for you. In his other hand, he carries a paper bag with a bottle of wine and other items unknown items inside.

"This one is for you." The sound of his deep voice reaching your ears brings back many memories, more than you can handle and you don't know what to do, if you faint, scream at him, or cum.

To your lack of response, he moves to place the flowers in your hands, observing you frozen before him, and then reaches closer to kiss your cheek as a greeting, way too close to your lips and more tenderly and slowly as he should be allowed to.

That warm wet touch you feel in the corner of your mouth takes you out of the trance and back to reality.

This is happening, he is really here. It's not one of those frantic dreams you used to have, ala Bella Swan.

"And this is for your aunt," he adds as he walks past you and enters your place inviting himself in.

He goes straight to leave the bag on the brand-new trendy table you recently bought. That table at the momment is pulled all the way to a corner, away and safe from the chaos and the paint.

Toto is already walking around your apartment as if he had the right to it, checking out what's going on.

"It's a good thing you haven't changed your phone number! That's a nice wall color," he tells you with a big smile, his beautiful teeth showing.

Did he get amnesia?! Why is he acting so calm, as if he didn't leave you like he did and in pieces?

"Us regulars can go with just one phone number our entire lives, you know?" There's a hint of anger hidden in your first words to him. It's been a while, yet it feels like yesterday.

Oh, the number of nights you spend fighting to sleep in your bed, thinking about what you would say to his face if he ever dared to cross your path again, to that gorgeous, gorgeous face.

And here he is, the fucker! What a nerve!

You move peacefully to place the flowers in a vase, which is contrary to how you feel inside. Still, a frown is visible but you hold your feelings. You bite your tongue not to lose it.

Silence reigns for a moment.

"Are you planning on moving out?" Toto asks, his voice lingering with worry and nervousness. He points with his finger to the revamping.

"No, I'm just making it my own since now it's just me here."

His eyebrows go up immediately. "Is your aunt..?" He doesn't get to finish his question as you instantly reply, interrupting him.

"She moved in with her longtime boyfriend. It took her a while to finally decide to move out, she kept returning to the apartment most of the nights just for me, knowing I don't cope well with sudden changes or people leaving abruptly" There's the jab! You go, girl! "She feared I could go back into a bad place... once more." you finish explaining.

"The one you sent me to. Thanks for all the trauma you caused me!" it's what you feel like screaming at Toto, but you don't. You are grasping at composure with your nails.

Toto stares at you solemnly, sensing the mood shifting. "Frankly, it's going better than I hoped for. I'm surprised you are not screaming at me or slapping me so far," he expresses with a smirk, arms on his hips, flexing those biteable, toned arms.

Your eyes finally move from the water stream coming from the tap to face him. Hurt is visible in them. "It's been years, Toto. You chose to move on without me, and so I did."

He clears his throat before slowly walking closer to you, closing the gap between you, and stepping over the splatted plastic covering the brand-new wooden floors of your place on his way to you. It's the only sound heard in the apartment.

You feel a nervousness in the base of your stomach as his towering body approaches, feeling tiny and like a little girl.

"Answer me this question," he looks at you so intensely. You lean back on the kitchenette counter, his big body almost trapping yours against it. "Do you regret me?" he whispers, his body nearly rubbing yours.

You take a minute to answer.

"I do regret..." you answer, with each of your words gaining momentum and you pause to look up at Toto straight in the eyes, confronting him, not letting him win. The man looked so hopeless for a second, and so tempted to break those inches setting you apart and taking you right there in the spot. "...not grabbing that juicy tip you offered me." You let out with a smile, feeling victorious.

You little shit. His facial reaction is a poem.

If he wants to play games this time, they will be with your rules.

As the bottle of wine reaches its end and the coat of paint on the wall is almost complete, he taunts you with the fresh brush he's holding, getting you an ivory splat of dye on your forearm with a cheeky smile.

You playfully toss yours on his way, staining his nose too. You two start making a mess, throwing paint at each other.

"Hey! Don't fuck up my clothes! Is this your cheap excuse to make me take off my shirt?" he teases you.

"Oh, no, none of that! I love myself nowadays!" you snap back, laughing.

"Fuck you," Toto pushes you to the side.

"Let's grab dinner somewhere. I'm getting high with this smell! I need some fresh air" Toto invites you.

And you accept.

Being around him feels so good. Indulging yourself with him is fixating and delicious, like the most fantastic and fatal drug. You have his full attention, and you can make him laugh and smile like that and make him look at you with those eyes in THAT way.

The moment he reaches your cheek over the table to caress it with his hand and thumb, provoking you to close your eyes, rub against it, and seek more of his touch immediately, enjoying the contact of his warm skin on yours desperately, makes you feel like a trained pet waving his tail to his master, and it breaks something inside you.

God, you used to be so desperate for him, craving anything he gave you. No matter if it were crumbs or leftovers, you would settle for anything to have him even if a little, a taste. Gosh, you were so young and dumb.

By the moment you get the question that Toto silently asks you with his imploring eyes, as he drops you back at your place late in the night after spending an honestly great time together downtown, you are strong enough to resist it.

Even after you two just had a, you don't want to throw around the word "date," but yeah, basically, you just had one. You feel powerful enough to shake your head no, even if, in reality, you were scared to death by what Toto provoked in you with the simple touch of his hand.

Oh, and to think there was a time when the mere idea of Toto taking you someplace fancy, out of that fucking Yacht Club, in public, holding the door open for you, pulling your chair, looking at you with adoring eyes across the table, and sharing soft touches and kisses here and there, was something you only could dream of and you used to beg for it to happen.

As you take off his jacket, the one he gave you to keep you warm in the nightly breeze now by the entrance door of your building, Toto's eyes speak volumes to you, almost in a plea to let him inside, not only into you but into your life once more, into your bed and fill you every single inch till your very core.

You feel his nose tenderly brushing yours, the warmth of his mouth brushing your lips, his muscular arm stretching next to your face as he leans in on you.

"Good night, Toto. It was great seeing you," you say almost in a whisper, getting on your tiptoes and kissing him on the cheek before entering back to your place without looking back, without falling for it.

Every once in a while, texts from Toto arrive.

As the days go by, your chat remains pretty active.

Here and there, you two have a casual call to share, you know, life or when important things happen.

Maybe once a month, you find yourself Facetiming with him when you feel you miss or need him, even if you hate to admit it, or when he feels he wants to tease you by appearing with his shirt off, just wearing those briefs that leave nothing to the imagination and make you salivate.

The number of immediate likes he gives you on Instagram every time you post something —the only social media account you own, and that he has, you are sure he mentioned one he only joined for you— constantly reminds you that Toto is there, looking over you. That you still his girl.

It doesn't matter if you appear in photos hanging out with random dudes or kissing your new Portuguese boyfriend. Toto still leaves you a like, maybe just to let you know he saw it or to remind you he is there for you no matter what.

He gets to know all about your relationships anyway, even the details.

How can the two of you talk about each other's love lives? It's an enigma your friends simply don't get. Speaking of, some of them are team Toto and others just hate him. Calling your weird status as toxic or codependent.

You don't let them know the whole truth, it's mostly about your love life you two talk about.

Toto only has flings, and sometimes, he doesn't even remember the names of the girls he sleeps with. He confessed to you during a drunk call around 3 a.m. - he went out with his friends on a boys' night out - that he only fucks girls that are the spitting image of you.

But still, none of you seem able to dare to talk about your past relationship, which is something that needs to be studied.

Two more years pass by without seeing each other in person, until that one day Toto randomly shows up at your place at a terrible time. Which wasn't a mere coincidence.

You are dealing with your painful breakup with "the French boyfriend", which Toto knows as "The One".

You believe he showed up to be supportive, since and by accident while entirely intoxicated, you disclosed to Toto on the phone in the middle of the night, that same night right after Manu ended things with you and you sought comfort in a bottle and his voice, that you felt Manu was the one, that this one truly hurt, not as much as when he left you, but close second.

And that you had no idea how to fix things with Manu since what he asked you was to get rid of "your dynamics" before he agreed to move further with you.

"To leave the other relationship you sustain! Which sometimes feels like the real one!" the memory of Manu confronting you comes alive in your mind, while he raises his voice, angry and jealous, referring to Toto and what you share.

Toto and you are having the most friendly chit-chat, chilling around in your finally completed, rebuilt place. When he lets you know, he will be staying in Monaco for some weeks this time.

"I'll be staying at the Yacht Club," he says and looks amused at your reaction to his words.

"Shocker!" you answer, pulling a faux stunned face, making him chuckle.

"Well, not so. That place has outstanding customer service! 5 out of 5." His eyebrows go up and down several times, teasing you and hinting about your past whereabouts. "Well, still..."

"Oh, so you are fucking the girl in turn?" escapes your lips, without much thought, interrupting him.

Yes. You are still bitter after all those years, even if you like to pretend you are not. Four? Five years have passed by?

"I didn't mean that," he clears his throat before answering. "You cut me halfway through the sentence, well, still... it's not the same without you. That's what I was going to say."

"Oh, please, don't mind me if you are doing so! It's none of my business. Just, if you have another fiance you want to leave, please inform the girl she's an excuse beforehand." You start vomiting words coming from deep within you, out of nowhere. Jesus! Since the break up you have been so incendiary.

"Like a ticking bomb!" your aunt described your current mood perfectly.

Shit, sentiment got the worst of you, and Toto's presence is not helping much either.

It gets quiet and awkward so fast.

"You weren't an excuse. You were the reason," Toto confesses, getting visibly irritated too.

"Ahem... Weren't you already running away from her? If I remember correctly, that's why you arrived at the Club unexpectedly in the first place! Before you got yourself all inside me, and what for?! Oh, yeah, to immediately leave me? That makes total sense! How romantic of you, thank you!"

"It wasn't the right moment for what you asked of me. You were too young, and we just had met, to move in that fast. I wasn't ready for that back then, to take you fully as my responsibility. It was for the better. I don't regret my actions." He sounds dead honest.

"I wasn't ready then?!"

You roll your eyes at him, and you're done with the conversation. You change the subject. You don't feel like going to war right now.

The following day, at dawn, Toto is already there at your place, all joyful, with iPad in hand, as if you hadn't discussed heavy subjects last night.

He always looks too comfortable in your place, claiming the armchair for himself as usual.

Some minutes later, another couple of knocks come on the door. Toto quickly gets up, stretching those long muscular legs as if he knew who was on the other side.

He skates in his socks, like a kid, on the freshly cleaned wooden floor and avoids stomping the Roomba currently doing its work, on his way to get the door.

He lets in his hot, busty redhead assistant.

She enters your kitchen holding two massive fancy paper food bags. Toto made her get you breakfast from your favorite dinner in town. He still remembers which one is it and your favorite order.

As you finish setting the table, his assistant prepares him his coffee, grabbing things from your drawers.

Yeah, girl, go ahead! Feel free!

Halfway through your Croque Madame, you remember you need to install a higher bookshelf, so you ask Toto for his help.

"I don't do that, but my people will handle it. Please leave it to me, anything you need." He offers you a big smile. "You know that, right?" he looks straight at you, placing his fork down on the table for a second. "Anything you need of me, you just ask me for it, a quick text or a call," he leans forward on the table. "And I will get it done."

Your face shifts to an expression he wasn't expecting and a prominent frown forms on your eyebrows. "Oh! Now you do that, huh?! Good to know!" you let out, angry.

Fuck, here it comes.

He stares at you, serious. Everything goes silent.

"Y/N..."

"It's not like I had asked you for something before!" you laugh off, resentful. "Not a single "I'm sorry" has come out of your lips, yet"

"Kid, I won't ask for your forgiveness since I don't regret what I did. I have told you that before," he sounds solemn now, his smile fading.

"Don't call me kid," you answer, rage building up.

Okay, you sense those repressed feelings coursing out.

"Then stop behaving like one." He sounds so calm, but his voice is more in-depth than usual. His beautiful dark eyes dispatch you a glare.

Oh, he is mad but not as furious as you are.

"Would you mind?!" you let out loud, losing it at the noises coming from the kitchen amidst your fight. You turn your head to the hot girl still doing shit for Toto at the counter.

Okay, that was rude of you, but you are pissed off and this is your house!

She looks at you, perplexed, before nodding and exiting the place to give you two some needed privacy.

"I don't have to eat shit in my own house," you warn Toto, returning your attention to him.

"You are the one who allowed me back. You let me spend all the time I want here and be by your side whenever I feel like it. Oh, please don't tell me it didn't cross your mind all things that could happen by doing so?"

"Oh, right, then save me the fights. Why don't you go back to stay gone? How about that?! Why don't you leave, better? I mean, must be easy, you have done it before."

"Y/N," he exheals your name, exasperated, his hand running through his hair, a tic he has.

"No, seriously, 'cause I was doing perfectly fine without you! Or do you need to fuck me first to then disappear?"

HOLY FUCK! You are taking things that far? Phew.

Toto looks visibly hurt by your words, but he only slightly nods. He is still sitting in the chair across the table from you, arms tightly crossed, his tight white shirt displaying his muscles.

Then, starts shaking his head in an "I'm about to lose my cool" way.

And yet you dare to push for more.

You want to let it all out of your system. You have been holding it, eating them, carrying these feelings for years! And you are done.

There's no point of return when the following words exit your mouth: "Let me ask you the same question then, you showed up here, don't tell me you weren't expecting this," you point with your finger referring to this exchange, "to happen at some point after you had me relentlessly for your own enjoyment and pleasure, and then left me out of the blue, not caring about my feelings, why don't you use that energy better to..." tears are menacing to slide down your eyes, you finally lose it and he looks like he does too.

Toto looks at you with such dangerous intensity, then he jerks to his feet in a sudden move and drops his hands on the table forcefully, shaking it, before leaning in his tall body overpowering you still sitting down.

You immediately shut up, witnessing his reaction, his body language screaming at you, "Abort, abort, danger."

"Go on," a threatening sound comes from his trembling lips. It's both a command and a whisper. His long nose is almost touching yours, he leaned in so close you can see the pores on his skin. You can feel his anger and the extremely tense static in the air. "What were you about to say?"

"...To fuck another idiot who is willing to keep your bed warm, and your dick wet like I did." you let out against his mouth.

"You know quite well there's no other like you," he says without hesitation. His hand pulls you by the neck closer to him, his nails digging into your hair. He looks angry in capital letters.

"Lies. Be honest for once, say it" You confront him, no rodeos. Toto starts rounding the table, coming straight to you. He looks menacing.

You feel intimidated for a brief second before adding the killer punch, "You just were looking where put your dick in"

"That's enough!" In a brisk movement and with a firm grip, he pulls you up from the chair, wrapping your legs around his waist, and smashing his body and yours against the wall, pressing himself on you, with no inch of space between your cores, trapping you against his warm body and the cold wall.

He starts whispering to your ear and neck, "I keep coming to your place because I can't bear to be in my villa without looking at the bed and desiring you wrapped around me, bouncing on me, to be buried deep inside you, to have you moaning and begging me for more, don't you think that every corner of that place reminds me of you loving me" his hand slide from your calf to your tight. At the same time, he leaves a trail of kisses from your neck to your lips.

"I fucked your twin the night you didn't let me come in. You have no idea what number of girls I have called your name. They all look like you," he admits again between ravenous kisses as you run your hands on his hair and undo his shirt.

You feel the adrenaline rush coursing through your veins as your eyes lock and memories flood you until you finally can articulate between groans, "I missed you."

The corner of Toto's mouth twitches upwards into a small smile, his eyes sparkling with fervor. "I missed you too, kid," he replies, a hint of huskiness in his tone that is too much for you to bear, you feel yourself so wet.

His eyes scan you from head to toe, drinking you in like a thirsty man, and you suddenly feel naked under his gaze.

You take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of his cologne. He still wears the one you picked for him, the one you liked, the one that's for you. His eyes meet yours again, and you mirror back that same hunger.

The years apart melt away like a morning fog, and with it, the anger, pain, and regret.

His lips brush over the curve of your neck, and Toto starts pressing in circles his erection against your thighs and core. You let out a gasp, the pleasure so intense that you break away from him.

"We shouldn't," you mumble, struggling for air. Toto's hand reaches up to cup your cheek, and you feel his smile against your lips.

"Yes, we shouldn't," he echoes your words, but his fingers are already tracing your lower lip, as addictive as always.

"But we will," you say as your fingernails dig into his now naked back, and you pull him closer by the waist, your legs still wrapped around him, and he captures your lips in a more urgent, passionate kiss as his dick gets pressed hard against you.

The more pieces of clothing slide from your bodies, the more urgent you two become. As if you two were magnetically drawn to each other, stumbling towards the bed, unable to separate a second.

He carries you there while smooching you, throwing stuff to the floor by accident in the desperate pursuit to merge your bodies.

"You have no idea the number of times I have jerked off to your boudoir photos; I need new ones," Toto mumbles as his intense gaze looks into your soul, stirring sensations that you had long tried to bury, memories that you had attempted to obliterate.

His thumb finds its way to your lips, gently pressing against the softness, leaving an imprint of his skin on yours before his mouth reaches your breasts, taking a rigid nipple within his lips, teasing it with his teeth and tongue until you cry out.

When he releases it, Toto turns his attention to the other breast, showering it with the same love and desire.

His hard-on is pressed into you, eager and persistent, a hot, demanding presence between your thighs. You let out a moan as you wrap your legs tighter around his waist, pulling him closer. With every lap of his tongue over your sensitive flesh, you feel your hips bucking against him.

You want him to fill the void he'd left behind. The throbbing of your pussy lets him know just how much it craves him.

Toto pauses for a moment as he takes in the sight of your sweat-slicked body, your heaving chest straining with every shallow breath. He reaches down and wraps his fingers around his cock, positioning himself at your entrance.

You feel the head of his dick rubbing along your swollen, aching pussy lips, the warmth of his skin so intense.

Toto leans back, his brow furrows with concentration, and with a crude growl, he pushes himself hard inside you.

You let out a guttural moan as he fills you balls deep, your bodies connecting in the most delicious of ways. After a second, his hips start to move in earnest, pounding into you with focused intensity.

There is no time for tenderness or affection, just two bodies engaging in an animalistic rhythm fueled by pent-up lust and long-denied desires.

Your nails cling to his sweat-dampened muscular shoulders, desperate for something to hold onto as he smashes your pussy so hard.

"Fuck, you have no idea how much I missed your tightness, this pussy," he grunts, withdrawing slowly before slamming back into you with bruising force.

The bed squeaks and creaks beneath you, and your intense pleasure movements shake the bed frame as well.

You can feel every inch of him, the veins snaking down the length of him, the hot, heavy weight of him inside you. "Daddy, more!" you cry out. He groans and flexes his hips again, grinding deeper.

The sound of your heavy breathing fills the room as he starts to piston in and out of you in a steady rhythm.

You hear the slaps of skin on skin as he thrusts you harder, as well as the growls of pleasure and the filthy, dirty talking that comes out from both your mouths.

It feels as glorious as you remembered it, this relentless pounding leading you to a fantastic climax.

"Oh daddy, daddy, daddy," you moan eagerly, hips colliding with his.

Toto is really here, plunging deep and hard all those years without him. Your hands grip the sheets, and you arch your back as his thickness claims you entirely, he is so fucking hard.

"Fuck yeah," Toto's voice is almost unrecognizable between your gasps and moans. "That's it, kid, take it all."

The scent of sweat and sex clings heavily in the air as you feel like your body might shatter with each push into you.

His fingers dig into your hips as he pulls you to another position again, and you claw and scratch at the sheets beneath, searching for something to ground you as he fucks you so painfully hard.

"Don't stop. Don't ever stop," you moan desperately, your teeth grit as Toto gives it to you relentlessly. "I'm so close, fuck! Please!"

You are his, completely and utterly and only his, after all these years. It's inexplicably raw and it shows in how you two are devouring each other at that moment.

"Oh," Toto moans loudly. His cheeks are all red, and his eyes are becoming watery.

Loud and extended growls from both of you start coming out as you reach your peaks.

Within a second, you feel yourself releasing with such force, unable to hold yourself a minute more, trembling on him.

"Kid, you are so gorgeous," Toto moans out as he enjoys the view of you, his eyes filled with lust as he watches you climax in front of him, dripping, enjoying that extra sleekness of leave on his hard cock for his final thrusts.

He is barely able to thrust you completely three times more before pulling himself out, quickly and between loud groans, as you stroke him, you feel his warm release on you, his cum falling in your skin and his big fat dick throbbing on your belly as you tenderly keep stroking it, enjoying the sensation of having him in your hand.

"I love you" he lets out, between heavy breaths and as sweat drops go down his muscular pecks and arms. You run a hand on his abs and hairy firm thighs.

When Toto wakes up after taking that much-needed post-angry intense sex nap and doesn't feel your body weight on top of his, he instantly knows what it means.

"Until you are willing to say I'm sorry, don't forget to close the door on your way out."

He reads on the sticky note you left for him on the pillow next to his.

Join us at The Wolff Pack Discord Server > https://discord.com/invite/tpgArxqbfd

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plasticfangtastic · 7 months ago

Text

Dairy Girl-- Part 3

A Homelander x F!Reader fic

A/N: 1more part to go, I've be going on a 4 day trip on wed so I should post the final part next wk, thanks everybody for reading here is part 2 (there's a link for part 1 there)

Synopsis: In order to provide a constant supply of fresh breastmilk for Vought’s number one hero, Vought has had to get quite nifty in order to prevent this secret desire out the press and the public– you have unfortunately discovered the truth.

tags: child death mention, depressive, dark, kidnapping, stocklhom syndrome, HL tw.

word count: 4.4K

Part 3-- Fields

Months.

You’ve been here for months.

You aren’t quite certain of the timeframe but you kept track of the full moon, how often things faded and re-emerged, you’re sure half a year of your life has vanished slower than ever before, for weeks you find yourself holding on, now you aren’t sure why? This body of yours grows heavier around his arms as you sat there in that massive corner booth listening, as he squeezed your jacket as if to remind you he had a hold on you… or to make sure you were okay, you hoped.

Several months have passed and you can’t help but wonder how you ended up in this Chinese restaurant having dinner with your captor.

Homelander’s visitation continued to be more sporadic, your time seems of less importance these days, you find yourself painfully alone, no matter how pretty the tapestry, how interesting the films have become, how delicious the food is or how the forced expansion of your music taste as they feed you an eclectic collection from japanese city pop to medieval folk rock albums changed the fact that you were alone. It had been endless weeks since you last saw a human being beside Homelander.

You stared at that steel door, its presence tempting you, mocking you, insulting you.

You pressed aimlessly at the panel hoping it would break or force somebody to emerge to tell you off– just the sound of a live human would be enough to fill this emptiness inside you even if it was for a short burst. The library elevator had been locked and no amount of pulling would get it to break, your voice, your sole company, birds would come and sing ‘hello’ but as pretty as they were they flew away at the sight of you.

Everything was perpetually quiet.

At least when the sun still lingered.

At night you couldn’t even sleep this awfulness off, your brain trapped you in a different nightmare.

The only time when this house wasn’t submerged in silence was in your slumber.

Ghost lived here you’ve come to accept.

“Every night I have the same nightmares” you spoke to a squirrel one morning

Cries of a baby you can never find, as you wake up, dazed and exhausted you hear the faintest cry and all your mind has tried to do these past few weeks and months have been to move on but ghostly cries forever remind you of the emptiness left in your arms, ghost hoping to crush everything within you, but when the sun is out you tell yourself that your baby boy is gone, you accept it.

Every night before bed you recite a fresh mantra ‘you’re okay now, that in the future perhaps you could finally become a mother, that the embers still burn inside you, your love is there but is not wrong to move on’ but your nightmares won’t let you move on from a pain you couldn’t forget.

You pray to whatever god you believed, or used to believe for dreamless slumber, each night the thought of sleep frightens you, making you wish for death for it was kinder.

The only peaceful slumber comes with a blond catch.

In your arms he’s both small and larger than life, light and heavy, his lips pursed on your sensitive skin, his quiet moans and mewls send shivers down your spine yet bring you an animalistic primal comfort that tap in a primitive part of your motherly brain, his scent fades and returns the next time reeking of oatmeal and chamomile, as your nose sinks on his hair and he wraps his naked hand around your waist itching to crawl higher, to hold your breast much like a real baby would you forget he is grown, picking his fingers and letting them hang on your own, in this times were you drift away from boredom– you sleep peacefully. Wondering if there was safety in this? The world’s most powerful man held against your bosom, nothing could hurt you here– not even the nightmares. Afraid of him you supposed.

Homelander looks up with glassed eyes, licking his lips as he pops your nipple out his mouth, blissed out, so happy it colors you with envy– that’s the only smile you know it's 100% genuine, you seen all his earlier movies it certainly been refined but his smile is disturbingly faux… convincingly sold, nevertheless as he nuzzles you and giggles softly into your chest that you learn what his truly looked like.

When was the last time you smiled like that? You wondered.

You hand caressed his face cleaning a loose drop off his chin.

“You want me to stay tonite?”

It’s been almost 2 weeks since he stayed more than a couple hours, you don’t know what to say, he still fills you with fear but as the afternoon glow colors the tapestry and the night creeps closer and closer you want that safety… just one night without nightmares.

“Please stay…”

Homelander smiles and squeezes your sides, forcing you into a hug, he begins talking and is not a conversation you can follow or wished to but is music nowadays– the sound of another person, it's the sweetest music you’d ever listened to, searing banalities into your eardrums, but its sweet… something to make you forget that by morning he’d be gone and you be left alone with nothing but ghosts and thoughts.

“Can we switch positions?” Your arm has grown numb under him.

He grumbles pouting like a child, but he’s happy to oblige, the TV plays quietly in the background you’re unsure how much longer the tape has, but he stares at you as he sits straight waiting for further instruction, while you fix the pillows.

“I just want to be the little spoon…”

Homelander eyes light up–literally. It doesn’t last long and his lips curl dropping on the bed with eager eyes, your grimace is internal but you crawl into padded arms.

“Promise me you won’t leave in the middle of the night…” you say so quietly, he stares at those pretty eyes of yours and those thick dark circles under your eyes allowing himself to caress your cheek– until morning…”

“Ryan is off on a camping trip with one of his buddies… I can stay the whole weekend.”

“Weekend?”

“It’s friday, Y/N.” He says as if that was obvious.

Your eyes open so wide it hurts your face, but you nod furiously, a part of you dies, whatever self-respect you had is fading as the only thought consuming you is that for at least 2 days you’ll have company.

“I’m surprised you let him go”

“I have a few men watching him from a distance, and I can fly and check up on him at any point” he says through gritted teeth.

“It’s nice that you trust him. Must make him feel like a big kid… My parents never let me do such things…”

“Why not?” He asks, watching you with genuine surprise as your body loses resistance, sinking into him.

“They worried too much… always sheltering me… watching over me…” You missed them, you missed a world of people, now those obnoxious actions of the past warm your heart but you don’t let it be seen– He’s lucky to have you.”

You stayed in his arms until the credits finished rolling.

“Kill the feed!” Homelander shouts startlingly you stiff, he waits in silence grinding his teeth, jumping out of the bed almsot throwing you off the mattress, once his cape unfastened he turns back to you– what? you think i'm gonna lay down all night in this?”

You just watched him as he moved around your room entering your closet as you shook off the scare, and procuring an oversized t-shirt grumbling to himself about ordering some loungewear, you watched him undress with your heart creeping up your throat, squeezing the duvet as your worst nightmares tease an entrance to reality, with each thud of his suit and clanking of gold your heart rate doubled in speed, he who had very much avoided touching most of you, could very much do so and you’d be powerless to stop him, he turns around throwing you a look of disbelief making you wonder if ‘mind-reading’ was a unpublicized skill of his.

Without his suit… he seemed more human than he had any right to be, his bright orange undies peeking under the old t-shirt with a pulled neck allowing you to see a handful of chest hairs creeping up, Homelander left you in the room heading out, his eyes examining that all cameras were in fact turn off and so were the microphones, stopping by a tacky painting of kittens in the hallway, tapping on the thick frame carefully.

“I was thinking I should have this place redecorated” He said loudly, his hand stroking the frame– bring it into the 21st century… What do you like– farmhouse chic… art deco? Altho your house was a mix-match of things.”

You jumped off the bed and followed him keeping distance as you tried to suppress your trembling hands.

“You’ve been to my house?”

“I was curious about you… you’ve been here 5 months and the doctors are surprised you haven’t… lost your mind.” He turns to you– altho you’ve been playing the music twice as loud as before”

“Is lonely in here…” You look away trying to figure out the best words you ought to say– you haven’t visited me in weeks”

“I told you. I’m busy– I have a movie… we are doing some re-shoots… the studio feels like they need a new direction and we needed a new post-credit scene so it ties up with The Deep’s next film and–” he bites his tongue– I should call… I’ll have a phone installed… but what can I do to make your stay here less lonesome.``

“Keep me company… at least downstairs I could see the other girls…” You look down– are they okay?”

“That whole thing has been shut down. No need for it to continue if I have you.”

He didn’t expect to see that beam of light in your eyes, but then those lips of yours straightened for something sinister came into your mind.

“What happened to them?” Faces that were still fresh in your mind spoil– are they okay?”

“Who knows…” he shrugs with genuine indifference– oh don’t make that look! I didn’t make the order, I simply told them to close shop… I can find out if you want.”

Staring into his eyes for what could’ve been an eternity but you never answered, which seemed to please him, he stretched his hand asking for yours and in that darkened hallway he seemed to be its only shadow, you obeyed afraid of displeasing him punished with abandonment for another endless loop, his fingers are always so warm and soft around yours.

“You don’t sleep very much do you? I used to sleep a lot when they left me alone… which wasn’t often” He squeezes your hand pulling you closer– you can talk to me, Y/N. I want to know…”

“You’ve been to my home… you should know why I don’t sleep much…”

“I can’t… imagine what you’ve been thru… If I lost Ryan–”

“I accepted it. I think it just wasn’t my time or his time…” You cut him off– I don’t know ‘bout God’s plan or nuthin but I just accepted that maybe one day it be for me but not yet.”

Homelander gave you a half moon, glad to see how strong you’ve been, glad to know you could withstand his abuse… you continued to be a challenge.

That night you both laid in bed, cradling him in your arms watching him mumble loudly in his sleep, his eyes shifting wildly, you watch him fight in his nightmare as you thought of your own… of those women and the bottles, how your signatured had doomed them, you bit your lips and watched him until exhaustion ate you up.

Waking up with a kiss from the sun without ever experiencing a single nightmare, not even their faces haunt your sleep.

It made you ill to be so relieved.

He kept you company, watching movies and eating popcorn, lounging around forcing you to read books to him, you thought that this would all you two would do-- just lounge around and pretend you weren’t growing bored.

“Wanna go out for dinner?”

Your ears perked up.

“I’ll go and tell them to get us some clothes, and we can go have dinner.”

“You mean outside?”

“Of course silly… you’ve been good, I think you deserve it.” He jumps off the couch, heading towards the metal door dragging his feet– you like chinese. I saw you had lots of take-out menus.”

“I would love to” You ran after him, hugging him– can we get Ice-cream too… afterwards?”

“I could always go for a milkshake.” He kissed your cheek– be a good girl and go get ready would ya?”

He faded into the other side, hearing those metal doors slide open filled you with joy, you had your chance, you were good, you did all that Homelander wanted of you, you listened to his endless ramblings and you gave him what he stole you for without complaint, and now he rewarded you, the gods had finally heard you.

This was your chance.

You would run to the cops, you would hide in the sewers, you would run until your feet were stumps if you had to but you would get out of here, away from him, away from his dollhouse.

You were so focused you didn't even register his sudden kiss until you started to undress in the bathroom, you touched your cheek wondering about why he'd done so.

You did as you were told and as your hair dried he came back bearing clothes from this century entering the bedroom as you stood covered with nothing but a towel, he came in an orange t-shirt and a navy jacket his sight on your face as if he had manners. It took you a few seconds to realize these were your clothes, washed and ironed, he threw them in the bed lingering for a few seconds before returning you some privacy.

“You look good” You smile feeling weird in your own clothes, nothing but a band t-shirt and your best jeans, he handed you a jacket that was definitely not yours but a matching one to his own– they told me there’s this bar you liked quite a bit”

“The Loose End?” you smiled, they knew you there, the bartender knew you by name, the regular waitress Liz knew you too, if he took you there you could find a way out– they’re cheap and the nachos are great… and they have live music every weekend.”

“It’s a date then.”

For the first time you crossed those steel doors, those wall held a boring room, a set of desk littered here and there alongside filing cabinets, a young man in a lab coat handed Homelander something while you looked around everywhere this whole setup was nothing but a repurposed kitchen, a storage close, and the entry hall, two large windows let the light in allowing you to see the driveway, and more evergreen forest, there were no houses just road and bushes indeed this location was as desolated as initially suspected. Leaving through the front door you spotted a pair of bikes parked on the side, while the garage was closed. A random man dragged a trolley filled with peonies, your feet were trembling as you stepped on that welcome mat, the air was so chilly against your skin, so refreshing on cracking lips.

Grass… trees… clouds… nowhere to run, you looked at the bikes but never did you look for their keys five seconds ago.

“Are we getting an Uber?” You looked at him.

He took you by the waist, not giving you an answer before jumping straight into the heavens, there was a town to the east, a highway near it, before your words could leave your body, he pressed your face against his shoulder, it's a whistling sound singing in your ear as an insanely heavy weighted blanket slammed against you, this song kept playing cut abruptly by honking, your feet hit the ground and you could’ve sworn you’ve died he lets go of your head messin with your hair as you parted from this tight embrace, looking bemused.

“Am I alive?”

“There’s not a safer vehicle in the world than me.” He chuckles– you’re fine.”

Blinking hard you looked around and immediately recognized the street peeking from the end of the alleyway, your old apartment was 20 minutes from this place, you started moving without him.

Your neck snapped back as he took your arm, forcing you still.

“The restaurant is that way.”

He held your arm so tight your fingers tingle from numbness, interlocking elbows as he forced you into the street, to passerbys you were just another nameless couple, nobody gave you guys a second look, the afternoon light was beginning to fade behind tall buildings, you look at strangers pleading for them to notice something was off only to meet discomfort and indifference, people minded their business and in the busy street you two failed to stand out, you knew every street and in your silence you hoped to see familiar faces but nothing but strangers surrounded you both.

Both stopping at the entrance of a chinese restaurant, you’re sure you’d ordered from here before, the place is loud and there’s a TV set on the sports channel, it smells of fried rice and oil and you can hear the cook shouting in cantonese, he never lets you speak and the waitress is too busy talking to her coworker to care just telling you to sit anywhere you like.

He sits you in a booth on the corner away from the window almost hidden but able to see a good chunk of the people, the tv plays in the back but you can’t see it, your face is obscured by a beam, the more you look at the decour it strikes you as cheap and busy, lights dim and there wasn’t many people inside no doubt he picked this place for a reason.

“I feel like egg rolls and sweet and sour pork… you want noodles or rice?”

“Rice… with chicken… and…” You glance at the menu– scallion pancakes…”

Time moves like a dream, you count the exits, the number of waitresses, you hear the phone used for take-out orders but from your spot you can’t see the phone, you see the paper sign saying ‘toilet’ which could lead to an unseen exit, maybe into the kitchen, but as the entree arrived you knew you couldn’t run to your old home, you could run to the nearest metro station take the train anywhere, the direction made no difference you just had to find a cop… anything to save you.

As you force yourself to chew it dawns on you how Homelander has not spoken, turning to see him and he has a dry smile in his lips, his sight focused on the table on the furthest end of the room, the party grew louder you assumed they caught his attention annoyed by their presence or something in that vein.

Dishware clank and people spoke and baseball played but his attention was on them alone, you swore you could’ve run and he wouldn’t notice.

“Are you okay?” You spoke with the meekest tone you could muster– is there something wrong with the food?”

He scoots in his seat moving closer to the edge of table, this boot could’ve sat a party of five with ease so he left you with a lot of space and for a moment you felt as if he was about to just walk out but instead he looked at the empty spot then jerked his head towards the direction of the party.

“Is there a friend of yours there…?” You try to remain bubbly, finding his demeanor uneasy.

Following him you take his former spot but he doesn’t leave the boot, and then you see it.

The big thing he was staring at.

She was so thin that it looked bigger than it should, she was a tiny frail thing and the bump protruded out of her stomach violently. She sat back down, her grin so big and her laugh so chirpy as she rejoined the group.

The group too engrossed in each other to notice… to notice the crying woman on the other side of the dimly lit restaurant.

He seemed the same, his hair was the same, his beard was the same, his shirt was the one you bought him last christmas and he looked… happy… happy as he kissed this woman you’ve never seen, holding her hand, caressing her stomach, she didn’t need a name for you to despise what she meant, there it was your ex-husband who shouted at you about not being ready to be a father, your ex who showed up late to the funeral and didn’t stick around to comfort you, who never made it to the hospital visits more than twice, here he was happy.

Looking at a young thing carrying the baby he did want.

Just like he never looked at you.

“Am so happy you’re having a little girl!” The older woman who sat across from him said– after everything that happened I'm just elated for you Eric.”

You heard your mother’s voice with so much clarity.

“After Y/N I never thought I would find somebody but I think she would’ve been happy for us. I’m just glad you guys are doing okay after everything…”

“It’s hard but you are still family and we can be happy for you and your sweet little girl”

You watched him comfort your mother, the way he talked about you as if he meant it.

When did he ever mean it? Did he find remorse in his heart after you were gone or was it to brush away the accusations.

‘Who would you run to?’ that voice in your head asked, your family was right there, your dad, your mom, a mutual friend of you both, your ex– they were all there but they didn’t see you, the more you focused on their words, the way they mentioned your name as if it made them feel icky.

“I was thinking of naming her after Y/N, I know she meant a lot to Eric and had we not met at that support group–

You ran off the booth, rushing to the bathroom, you’re sure somebody looked at you as the plates rattled, Homelander gave you a glance but didn’t follow you.

Slamming the door behind you, in that ugly cramped bathroom you screamed into your knees, every fiber of your body recoiled, tightening around your chest, you stayed there until your own sobs hurt your throat and your eyes itched from salt.

Staring at your swollen eyes and red nose you washed away what you could, nausea still lingered robbing you off your appetite.

The door opened and there was no red, white and blue suited supe, just a hall with faded pictures and a storage closet, walking not knowing what to find, not wanting to be seen.

He was still in the booth, happily waiting on you with a bag of leftovers propped on the table.

“Let’s go home…” You whispered, your throat hoarse.

“Home? Where is that?” he grins

“Home… take me home… please…”

He stares at the party who are now sharing their final drinks and readying to leave.

You sit on the edge pushing him into the booth, forcing him to pay attention to you and not those behind, maybe it was because he was Homelander that you kissed him, that you had the attention of a more enviable man than Eric ever was that you kissed him in front of him and your family, maybe it was because it felt good, his thin lips soft and delicate against yours, it was quick thing, his shock was palpable in the nervousness of his kiss was cute, but it felt good… for once something felt good again.

“Let’s go Homelander… I don’t wanna be here anymore…”

His lips pressed against your cheek before lifting himself, making sure to cover your sight as you both left the building turning away from the window as the party began to gather their things, he stopped for a second after walking for a few minutes.

“I just need to text Ashley something before I forget… work stuff” You didn’t care.

He typed slowly with his index instead of his thumbs which made you cringe a little.

“All good. You sure you don’t wanna go watch a gig, we don’t have to go back home.” He said softly.

“My tits hurt.” His eyes light up at the lie– unless you wanna have a sippy in the toilets before the show stars to help me out here”

“... I… I do…”

If he blushed any harder he’d be a stop light, you smiled unable to stop chuckling at his stupid face.

“Didn’t peg you for the kind of guy to get freaky in the bathroom of a dingy bar… guess America’s son does have a real kinky side to him.”

“You have no idea darling… do you have a kinky side perhaps?”

“Fuck me.” Her stomach popped into your head, his hand caressing her bulge played on loop, his disgusting smile, all of him played all around you, memories of his touch burnt your skin, everybody had his disgusting mug on their faces– and find out.”

He took your hand and started walking faster, throwing away the bag of takeout into the lap of the first homeless person he’d seen.

The woman looked at Eric as he said goodbye to your parents, her phone buzzed, turning around to hide her screen, a text message from with a receipt for 25,000 dollars deposited on her account, as well as a doctor’s appointment booking.

She signed with relief.

“Understood.” she texted back.

#homelander #homelander x reader #homelander x fem!reader #homelander x you #personal #my fic tag #the boys amazon #extra long segment to make up for the prior delay and the one coming #not proofread cuz am a dog wearing man's skin

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cillianhead · 1 year ago

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Anything about cillian with a beard!

Cillian with a beard... oh my god don't even get me started.

Anyway here you go my love <3

Three And A Half Months || Cillian Murphy x Reader

warnings: SMUT, also a fluffy sweet fic, oral sex (f receiving), face riding, mentions of blood but nothing too graphic, general adult content ahead.

18+ Minors DNI

Last night you had reunited with Cillian. It had been three and a half months since you had last seen each other, the longest you had ever gone without seeing one another, he was away shooting for a new film and it was in the states so traveling back and forth between Ireland and America grew exhausting. Of course, as soon as you saw each other, you had no time to process the beard on his face, just the fact he was there. Nothing else mattered except him being there, right in front of you, to touch and to hold. So you went at it like rabbits, knocking over furniture, breathing each other in like feral animals, making love until you were sore and panting for air. No amount of late night phone calls could ever truly compare to the feeling of having his cock deep inside you.

The next morning arrived, light pouring through the curtains and lighting a still sleeping Cillian in a golden light, the rays gave him a tiny halo, one you thought he rightfully deserved. You just smiled to yourself, the both of you still completely nude from last night's love making, you felt at peace, lying in bed with the love of your life, his arm draped over your waist heavily, the sound of his slow breathing, and the indescribable feeling of his warmth beside you. Every time you looked at him, a metaphorical slow romantic guitar would play, your heart would swell and overflow with love, and your eyes stung with the happy tears that seemed to always come. That was the thing about you, so incredibly emotional, Cillian always teased you about it. You'd cry at any chance you could get, whether it be because of hormones or because you saw a cute cat or because of the beauty that Cillian is. And when he had come home with that rugged beard that made him so handsome and so deliciously masculine, you felt weak in the knees, you cried but not from your eyes.

"Mornin' me love," The irish lilt of his voice mixed with the grumble of his morning voice brought you out of your daydreaming. "Lookin' so beautiful f'me." He leaned in, placing a soft sweet kiss to your cheek. You couldn't feel uglier with your messy bed hair and your puffy face after a long night's rest. But to Cillian you were the apple of his eye, no other woman could ever possibly compare.

"I missed you."

"I missed you too," He chuckled at your confession. "Those three months and a half went on for far too long but I'm here now, lovie."

"No, no..." You shook your head with a childish grin. "I missed you while we slept... missed you for every moment... was watchin' you sleep."

Cillian laughed contagiously, you giggled too as you felt him pull you closer to him, your bare chests touching. He nuzzled your nose with his own, this moment so full of love, so intimate and private. You felt like the luckiest person in the world to be with him. The light painting you two in a golden hue, the moment felt so surreal, like something out of a wonderful dream or something you'd see right before you die, right as your soul becomes free.

"What've you got planned today, Cillian?" You hummed, you both huffed out hot puffs of air on each other's faces, neither of you caring that you hadn't brushed your teeth yet. Just relieved you could finally touch each other again, relieved your souls could finally reunite and recharge, that your bodies were flushed together, it wasn't possible for you two to be any closer (physically at least).

"Nothin'," Cillian murmured quietly, stroking your hair softly. "Just planned on spending it with my favorite girl, thas' all." You felt yourself grow flustered, nuzzling your face into his chest before glancing shyly back up at him, growing more flustered at the sight of him and his beard. That beard that made your heart race and in between your legs throb with desire.

"Cillian..." You whined, catching your bottom lip in between your teeth. He was so fucking pretty and even after all this time of being together, you could never get over it. It made you feel like a giddy little girl with a silly school girl crush.

"Hmmm?" He hummed. The deep vibration sending jolts of arousal straight to your core. "What is it, baby love?"

"Your beard..." You ran your fingers along the hair accumulating across his jawline and cheeks, clenching your thighs together. In all the time you and Cillian had been together, he had always been clean-shaven, of course there'd be the rare occasion where he forgets to shave for a day or two and has a bit of stubble but nothing ever this long. Cillian had that knowing look on his face, he very much knew the effect he had over you. Arrogant was not the word you would ever use to describe Cillian, in fact he was an incredibly humble and modest man but when it came to riling you up, teasing you, he was quite arrogant then, arrogant in the way he knew every little inch about you and would use that against you. He enjoyed teasing you, enjoyed getting you where you were weak because he enjoyed watching you squirm. "It's so...." You trailed off, biting your lip once again with that flustered look on your face.

"...So what?" Cillian grinned, a cheeky glint in his blue eyes as his hand slipped further down your back until it rested on your bare ass. "Go on, tell your husband how wet his beard's gotten ya, love." Well that was unexpected.

You let out a bashful squeal, diving your face into his chest to hide the look of desperation and embarrassment on your flushed face. You heard him laugh, amused by how easily aroused you were. "Cillian... don't tease me... it's been three months..."

"And a half!" He added.

"...Since I last saw you, you can't blame me... especially since you look sooooooo fucking good with a beard..." You were looking him in the eyes now, his own pupils blown wide and a small one-sided smirk on his face. You slipped your hand down his abdomen before your fingers wrapped around his already hard cock, he let out a small breath at the feeling of your gentle hand.

"C'mere, Y/N," Cillian groaned, grabbing you by your waist, picking you up like you weighed nothing and sitting you up on his stomach. "Wanna taste you... s'been too fuckin' long."

Your arousal pooled on his stomach, getting off on the slight friction against your clit every time he breathed in and out but it wasn't quite enough. "Cillian... baby..." You huffed, too shy to make the first move, he gave your ass a gentle slap.

"Go on, sit on me fuckin' face," He was growing impatient, licking his lips. "Show me how much you love my beard, know you're soaking wet 'cause of it, silly girl."

He wasn't wrong and so you meekly crawled until your pussy was aligned with his hungry face. You hovered your hips hesitantly over his nose and lips, your thighs on either side of his head. He roughly grabbed ahold of your plush hips and pulled you down until he was suffocating in your sopping cunt.

"Fuck!" You mewled, your pussy ached with how turned on you were. His tongue lapped up at you, his nose perfectly brushing your clit as he fucked his tongue in and out of your tight hole. You never understood how he could breathe with your weight fully on top of him, he'd always give you some form of punishment if you didn't sit on top of his face like he was just a chair so you did as you knew he wanted. He always reassured you that he loved it, that being under you with his face buried in you was heaven on earth. And who were you to deny him what he so desperately craved when it felt so unbelievably good? He especially loved it when you took control, when you gave into the pleasure and rode his face, used his face like it was just something for you to cum on. He also knew the consequences of growing out his beard, he knew it'd turn you on, and this was exactly what he was hoping for. He knew once you came all over his face, he'd smell you in his beard for days.

Cillian was in pure bliss as he felt your fingers interlock with his hair, holding onto him for support as you began rocking your hips back and forth on his tongue and nose, moaning so fucking loud that the neighbors could hear. It had been so long and the feeling of his beard scratching your thighs and sticky folds made the experience so much better. The new sensation was only making you moan louder and louder.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck... Cillian..." You were gasping, Cillian groans into your pussy, encouraging your rough movements. "Missed this so much! Missed your face..." Fuck. The feeling of his nose pressed right where you need him, right against your throbbing clit, it was like he was made for you. You loved his nose and you always told him so.

Cillian was breathing you in, feasting on you, like all there was was you. Well at the moment, that was true. All he could hear, see, taste, and smell, and feel, was you. He could feel cum leak slowly out of his cock, not being able to handle how turned on and rock hard he was, he needed some kind of release. But there was no way in hell he was going to touch himself, not when he could have his hands grasp onto your hips, holding you down on his face even further. He hoped one of these days that you would eventually become one. That he could have your delicious cunt permanently on his face, even if it meant suffocating to death.

"Cillian... I... fuck..." Your head was rolled back, hand gripping desperately onto the top of his head, too lost in the pleasure to think about how you could be hurting him but you knew if it was too much for him he'd tap out which he never does. You knew Cillian would take whatever you gave him. "I'm cumming!" You choked out, your hips that were previously fucking his face slowed down a bit, stuttering your movements as you came. You hadn't came this hard in months, your fingers could never compare, nor could your vibrator, or showerhead. You had fully collapsed on top of his head, thighs squeezing his head like a vice as you saw stars. Your vision going completely white. Cillian lapped up all of it, taking it gratefully, face completely drenched and well ridden as you pulled off of him with a gasp.

"Bloody hell..." He grunted, gasping for air. You sat on his chest, still too weak or sensitive to move. Cillian smiled up at you dopily, high off of feeding off you. It only turned you on further how he got off on your pleasure. "Tastes so good... missed that so much... think I know what I'll be doin' all of today, love." You shook your head at Cillian, giggling a bit.

His face was drenched and beard sticky with your cum. Your cum formed perfect little droplets within the hair on his face, looking like he had just dipped his whole face in some sort of body of water, your cum had made it all the way to his forehead somehow. You blushed as you hopped off of him, you always felt embarrassed afterwards.

"Oh my god!" You exclaimed, seeing a bit of blood staining his teeth, you looked down at your groin to make sure you weren't bleeding (maybe you got your period?) but your heart sank at the realization you had managed to bust his top lip with how hard you rode his face. "I'm so sorry, Cillian! I'm so so sorry!"

He sat up with a frown, rubbing at his mouth to see the bit of blood on his fingers. He grinned like a mad man at the sight, standing up to look at himself in the mirror. You didn't understand why he was so happy about it. Beard coated in your creamy cum, face flushed, and his top lip bruised and swollen from where it had been repeatedly rubbing against his teeth. Cillian was pleased with his appearance and the newly made wound on his face. You stood up on shaky legs, cupping his face, worriedly.

"It's okay, love," Cillian reassured. "I'm fine, just a bit of blood, it'll heal by tomorrow I'm sure."

"No! I hurt you! I'm sorry I wasn't thinking!" You felt so guilty, you felt like the worst wife in the world. You brushed your thumb along his wet beard with a sad look on your face.

"Y/N," He said firmly, grabbing a hold of your waist, giving you a soft kiss, giving you a taste of yourself. "I wish you could understand just how much I love it when you ride my face. Best fuckin' thing in the whole world, how many times have I told you I'd die a happy man if it meant I got to drown in ya? Hmmm?" He smiled, you still frowned up at him, feeling guilty at his reddened lips. "Fuck, I don't think I could look sexier right now, I mean look at me! I don't really care f'me on looks but c'mon... you make me beautiful, Y/N..." Cillian looked delicious, he was right, you wanted to pounce him then and there and sit on his face all over again. "If people ask what happened to my lip, I can make up some flimsy excuse about how I fell on my face or some shit like that but smile to myself... knowin' the real story..." He licked his lips before continuing. "Knowin' that my goddess of a wife got herself off on my face because she loves me so much..."

His voice was soft, his hands caressed your naked body as he leaned in and kissed you. His beard was the best feeling ever against your lips. "I am sorry though... Cillian... I should've been more gentle..." You murmured. Cillian shook his head, he loved it when you were rough with him.

"I know a way you can make it up to me, darling," He hummed with that mischievous grin before gently pushing you down onto your knees, face right next to his deliciously hard cock. He moved his hips so that the head of his dick pushed at your lips, slapping you gently across the face with it. "Can't promise I'm gonna last very long though..."

"That's fine, Cillian... love the taste of your cum..." You said smiling as you lovingly took him into your mouth. God he looked so pretty with his beard.

<33333

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #peaky blinders #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #cillian murphy imagine #cillian #jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut #scarecrow

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illubean · 4 months ago

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ohemgee hi! I saw ur post asking for requests and wanted to request something that's been flosting around in my head for a while- could i request a PLATONIC gojo satoru x fem!reader and a romantic bestfriend! megumi fushiguro x fem!reader where megumis out on a mission and reader misses him so she's ranting and complaining to gojo about it? Also i was thinking like reader just has a crush on megumi (megumi also likes her back) and reader's yearning over him to gojo and gojo's just like "WE GET IT." If u don't wanna write it with gojo, i don't mind the request with literally any other student in the tokyo jujutsu high! Thank u in advance! (Feel free to ignore this if u dont wanna write it <3)

Missing U

Characters: Megumi Fushiguro Type: Oneshot, Fluff, Fem!Reader

sort of wrote Gojo in here but not really >.< hope u like anyway!

Warnings: none

"Sighh..."

Currently you were sprawled upside down on the common room couch. Yuuji was watching one of his weird films on the TV while Nobara was flipping through some teen magazine. The only first year that was missing was Megumi.

"Siggggghhhhh."

Your two friends continued to ignore you, focusing on whatever had their attention at the moment. You sunk towards the floor, deciding to just let yourself fall and rest there.

"SIIIIGGGGHHH-"

"Girl if you don't SHUT THE FUCK UP I'm going to have to beat the shit out of you," Nobara warned, her eyebrow twitching in annoyance as she gripped her magazine tighter.

"What's up with you anyways?" Yuuji asks, eyes still focused on the TV.

You sat up, resting your arms and head against the couch cushions.

"I miss my man."

Your pink haired friend raised an eyebrow at this, glancing down at your pouting self before Nobara clarified.

"By her man, she means Megumi."

"Since when were you guys together?"

You huffed, leaning further into the couch while you mumbled out your response.

"We're together in my head."

Megumi had been your best friend since you got to Jujutsu Tech. He was the only other first year at the time, and even though he's pretty nonchalant most of the time he wasn't too hard to get close to. Honestly, he lets you get away with a lot of stuff that wouldn't slide had it been anyone else.

But that's just because you guys have known each other the longest, right?

"Why don't you just ask him out then?" Yuuji asked.

Your crush on Megumi was anything but a secret. All of the students knew, Gojo knew, hell, even the students from the Kyoto sister school could tell. Everyone knew but Megumi himself it seems.

"It's not that simple Yuuji!! I want him to make the first move. Besides, I don't even know if he's into me like that. What if he- OW!"

Before you could go on a rant, Nobara chucked her magazine right at your face.

"We get it, you're in love! If you're not going to do anything about it then stop complaining!"

It was silent for a few moments, save for the sound of the TV and rustling of paper while your brunette friend retrieved her magazine.

Several beats of silence.

Until-

"Siigghhhhhh...I miss him..."

With a scowl on her face, Nobara rolled up her magazine and raised it in preparation to hit you. You braced yourself for impact and as if on cue, you heard two sets of footsteps approaching.

"Guess who's back from that totally important mission!" your teacher spoke. You practically shot up from your spot on the floor, before leaning against the back of the couch, trying to act as cool as possible.

"Welcome back. How'd it go?"

"It went great! As a matter of fact, it went so great you should go hang out with your best friend!"

Gojo rests his hands on Megumi' shoulder, positioning the dark haired boy in front of him while Nobara got up from her spot to drag you around the couch and push you towards the door.

"Yeah, for the love of god, take her!"

The brunette shoved you outside, Gojo following suit to do the same to Megumi before giving you a "Have fun!" before slamming the door shut.

It was just now you realized the boy was holding a (favorite color) gift bag, a light shade of pink dusted over his cheeks as he avoided eye contact.

"Here. For you," he said, bringing his arm up to hold the bag out to you.

"Thanks Megs, but what's this for?"

"Just open it."

You opened up the bag and looked inside to see an arrangement of your favorite snacks. Taped on the inside of the bag was a note, that you gently peeled off and read to yourself. In neat handwriting it read

'Will you be my girlfriend?'

#megumi x reader #megumi x y/n #nobara #yuji #yuji itadori #itadori #megumi fluff #megumi x you #megumi fushiguro #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #jujustu kaisen #satoru gojo #satoru #jjk megumi #jujutsu megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi

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kaylatoonz · 4 months ago

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I apologize in advance for the person I become when the next few sonic movie 3 trailer come out rather Amy excluded from the film or if some miracle she is in it.

I'm seriously considering taking a break from sonic after this years maybe move toward my other hyperfixations like trolls… maybe.

The constant hate and the need to “fix” a character that ain't broken is getting on my nerves. If it was just the majority or minority of the fandom I can probably get over it, but the writers/sega too!

I have experienced, hate and misinformation being spread about other series and characters I’ve liked but I never experience the amount of bull that is the sonic franchise/community when it comes to Amy Rose.

It tiring and disheartening to see Amy fans and sonamy fan get kicked down at their lowest or at their highest. Everytime I think things are finally getting back on the right track with Amy’s characterization they take another several steps backwards.

So here what I’m going to do for now.

I’m gonna try to finish the character sheets for movie Amy and metal AU and give a synopsis on what it’s about. (still might be a while since I’m working on other stuff).

The comic involving the AU will be on hiatus until I find motivation to do it again😓.

If I feel up to it after I’m done with the character sheets, I’ll continue drawing the other movie Amy au ideas.

As for the fanfic… hiatus for now, unfortunately. It’s just a one-shot but it's like pulling teeth to write this thing🥲. And the added fact that I am losing motivation for creating sonic content is making it harder.

Lastly, I’ll try to take a break from Twitter and maybe mute or block anything involving ” Amy is better off with her “obsession” with sonic Being removed because it was her only character trait now she can be a “good”character”😑(maybe on Tumblr too).

At this point, I’m gonna just skip shadow generations for now too. Most of the leaks made me more and more disinterested in the DLC. In a recent leak I heard that they might’ve removed any mention that Amy had involvement with shadow turning a new leaf.😤

Unless something really interesting happens in the shadow story I don’t think I want to see anything.

#sonic movie 3 #movie amy rose #amy rose #sonamy #sonic the hedgehog #knuckles the echidna #miles tails prower #movie sonamy

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iz1331 · 5 months ago

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The "Weird Dream theory" of Beetlejuice Beetlejuice may be plausible based on this name connection.

If you haven't seen the film yet, then go freaking watch it already! It's been out for 3 weeks now. Spoilers below.

Exhibit A

The two songs that Betelgeuse lip-synced sang to Lydia are "Right Here Waiting" and "MacArthur Park".

The former being a timeless love song, and what I think is probably the best song that Betelgeuse could ever choose to convey his everlasting love for Lydia. And the fact that the song got released in 1989? A year after they met? It may does come across as creepy, and kinda scary, than romantic. (I personally thought it was romantic).

The latter being a stroke of genius as a climax musical choice. It definitely has the Beetlejuice touch to it like with the Banana Boat (Day-O) song, where you think it has no business being in the film, and then suddenly you can't imagine the film not having the song in it. The message and story behind "MacArthur Park", while sad when you hear it, is Betelgeuse wacky. The Juice boxes (Beetlejuice fans) have talked about how the song is Betelgeuse knowing that the wedding ain't gonna come to the conclusion he wants it to be, but still brought the song on to drive home his feelings to Lydia, him saying farewell (for now) and telling her she's the only one, ever, for him whether she wants to be or not.

Exhibit B

The names of the singers who sang the songs.

"Right Here Waiting" - Richard Marx

"MacArthur Park" - Richard Harris (and note that in the wedding scene, Betelgeuse used RH's version, not Donna's or any other covers)

Exhibit C

The name of Lydia's former partner who she once loved, the father of her only child.

RICHARD!

In conclusion

It was all a dream that Betelgeuse shared/gave to Lydia. He serenaded her with a RICHARD Marx song, coordinated a musical performance centering on RICHARD Harris' version of MacArthur Park for their wedding, and named the guy she had a kid with (then made him dead) in the dream RICHARD, the same name as the singers.

Call me out if this has been posted or mentioned before in other platforms. I'd like to read the discussions.

Again, this is a theory and must be taken with a grain of salt, it's just fun to connect the dots and give potential fanfiction and headcanon worthy material.

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice beetlejuice #betelgeuse #lydia deetz #beetlebabes #beetlejuice & lydia #beetlelyds #beetlejuice x lydia #richard #richard harris #richard marx #beetlejuice beetlejuice theory #weird dream theory #i don't stick to one theory or interpretation of the film's ending #i just provide evidence even if they don't stick #it's helluva fun to think about is all

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sykokilljoyy · 2 years ago

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secrets - wroetoshaw imagine

request: none! however it does kind of link to a few :p words: 1538 warnings: little bit embarrassing i can't lie. implied smut, allusions to sex, but generally just a lot of second hand embarrassment.

tl;dr: harry and y/n have been seeing each other for a while, but the secret's out when harry accidentally exposes some very intimate truths

“Come on, Harry,” Simon laughed, glee written all over his features. He holds onto JJ for support, who chuckled beside him.

“Boys, this is awful!” Harry‘s cheeks were burning, laughing along in front of the camera, which was setup haphazardly on the astro-turf football pitch.

“You said you would do it!” Ethan yelled playfully, holding his friend to his word, “At least give us odds.”

“Fine. Odds of 1-10,” Harry sighed.

It was just a stupid forfeit. He’d accidentally hit the goalpost and due to the rules of the Sidemen Sunday, he would have to do the next 3 penalties with his shirt off. It was the middle of January, so the bite of cold was nipping at his neck already, intruding through his layers of clothing.

“Bet,” Ethan giggled from behind the camera.

“Alright, boys,” Simon called, “3…2…1…”

“Six.”

“Fuck!” Harry cursed, a pit of nervousness pooling in his stomach.

The boisterous whoops and laughs from his friends helped to spur him on a little, but he had never been very confident in front of the camera, let alone topless in the middle of winter, outside the safety confines of his flat. A little part of him was beyond thankful that you were here, tucked behind the camera to help with filming. None of the boys knew, but Harry and yourself had been seeing each other in secret.

It started with just hanging out after filming every so often, grabbing lunch or rides home, just enjoying getting to know each other as a little more than acquaintances. This, however, turned quickly into a couple dates, which fell into long nights and messy mornings, legs tangled in his bed and hands reaching to wherever they could. Not that either of you were ashamed of the other, but there was a certain thrill of keeping it all under the covers that neither were fast to get rid of.

“Come on, Bog,” Ethan hollered. This triggered a wave of ceremonious chants, something along the lines of ‘get your tits out’ from his friends.

Sighing in defeat, Harry shook his jacket off hastily, presuming that if he just gets it over and done with, it’ll be less mortifying. Cheers continued until he was down to his last layer, only himself noting the memory of you wearing this exact t-shirt in his flat the night before, he tried not to think of the fact it still smelt like you.

As his lifted the shirt above his head, the blush dusted upon his freckled shoulders very visible, silence fell on the group. Now, it really wasn’t often that this hyper group of men were dead silent, but after seeing the litter of hickeys cascading down Harry’s chest, sensual scratches marking the skin of his back – a pin could drop and it would sound like something nuclear.

Behind the camera, you blushed deeply, pulling the hem of your hoodie to your nose to hide it. Your eyes followed the lines of the scratches on his back, the memories of the night before still more than fresh in your mind. Averting your gaze to the floor, you could feel your cheeks on fire. Luckily, your friends were all too distracted to notice.

“What?” Harry was immediately self-conscious at the unexpected reaction, pulling his shirt to his chest to cover himself. It was only when he caught a glimpse of something crimson, that it clicked.

“Oh fuck!”

Ethan was the first to laugh, a cackle that broke the shocked tension, the dam of silence bursting open as all of his friends jump to embarrass him.

It was a perfect overreaction, realistically it was only a couple hickeys and such, but as Harry had been historically private about his love life to his friends, this was an ideal opportunity to grill the youngest Sideman.

“Are you dating a vampire or something?” Josh joked first, earning a robust reaction from the group. Followed by waves of playful digs at the already embarrassed blonde boy, who was sheepishly pulling his shirt back over his chest.

“Who knew Harry was getting laid so much?” JJ was flabbergasted, playing up to the camera for a reaction.

“Seems like a very satisfied customer,” Simon chuckled, ruffling Harry’s hair – much to his discomfort, he pouted like a kid.

“Ask her yourself, isn’t that right, Y/N?” Josh chuckled.

He had only meant it as a joke. He had no idea of your relationship, only meaning to embarrass the boy further, as he knew Harry found you attractive.

However, when the pair of you froze like deer in headlights, your throat dry as you try and stutter a whimsical response, panicked eyes darting to each other for support, Josh’s eyes blew wide like dinner plates.

“Oh fuck, was it actually you?” All eyes were on you now, your heart pulsating loudly in your chest, waves of embarrassment hitting you. There was a reason you stayed behind the camera, the pressure of attention being directly on you made you crumble.

Harry knew that, so he spoke loudly to drag eyes back to him, now fully-clothed, “Yeah, uh, we’ve been seeing each other for a while now.”

“I knew it!” Tobi called, turning to Simon with a victorious grin on his face.

“Fuck!” Simon cursed, “I said it was bullshit.”

“How did you know?” Harry asked Tobi, blush still tainting his cheeks.

“Harry, you practically can’t keep your eyes off her when you think no one’s watching,” this made you flustered, avoiding Harry’s dazed eyes.

“Fuck sake,” JJ interrupted, everyone turning to him as he fiddled with the camera, “Does that mean we can’t use any of this footage now?”

Chuckles rose from the group, but ultimately it was down to you and Harry to make that decision. His gaze found you, blue eyes laced with affection and a tiny bit of an apology for the embarrassment. Now that the cat was out the bag, he couldn’t care who knew. Of course, there was a terrifying reality of the fans reaction, but you’d been shipped so many times it seemed redundant by now.

“No, it’s okay, I don’t mind,” You smiled nervously, Harry looking at the football on the ground to hide his boyish grin, kicking it around a little at his feet.

Before everyone hopped back into recording the Sidemen Sunday, returning to their football forfeits, he made his way to you, whilst his friends were distracted retrieving the footballs that were kicked haphazardly across the pitch.

“You okay?” He asked softly, his cold hand ghosting over yours. The pair of you were used to keeping things out of the public eye, subtle glances, fleeting touches, whispers shared whilst no one was looking.

“I’m nervous,” You replied gently, feeling tense under his watchful eye.

“Don’t be,” His head dropped to kiss your cheek carefully, letting his lips linger on your icy skin, a safe way to reassure you that he was there.

It was only small; a gentle expression scratching the surface of his affectionate ways, but your heart skittered at the feeling of his hand playing with yours and his warm lips pressing against you. The strong scent of his cologne hit you at the closeness, the heat radiating from him in the bitter January air. You were still riding the coat tails of a silly schoolgirl crush as he pulled away, the exhilaration of being able to touch him outside the privacy of closed doors spurring you on.

Reaching up, you touched his cheek savouringly, leaning up onto your tip-toes and pressing a kiss to his lips. His hand slipped under your jacket and onto your clothed waist, pulling you towards him only lightly, smiling into the kiss once he felt the corners of your lips curl. Pulling apart, he hid his flustered blush by placing a kiss to your hairline.

“Do you want to get dinner after this?” You enquired hopefully, playing with the strings of his hoodie.

“Only if I can get a couple more of these,” Harry whistled playfully, pulling the collar of his jumper down to reveal the tender, crimson love bites.

“Harry!” You buried your face in his hoodie, embarrassment heating your cheeks promptly, his chest stuttering as he chuckles at your flustered reaction.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” He giggled, and you peeled yourself from his embrace, glancing over to see the rest of the group getting ready to film again.

“I’ll take you somewhere real nice, to make up for it.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that, Mr,” You punched his bicep lightly, pushing him away, back towards the camera setup, “Now, go film. I’ll be here when you’re done.”

He nodded, pressing a quick final kiss to your cheek before jogging away sheepishly, batting away the childish calls and digs from his friends.

You watched him happily, smiling at the way he carried himself, the light in his eyes as he joked and battled with his friends, an extra pep in his step as the secretive weight off his shoulders were lifted. He was finally able to care for you in public, to touch you, hold you, tuck the hair behind your ear and kiss you gently without worrying who would find out, and you the same.

It would be hard, when the video releases, and the audience would see the announcement, but you weren’t worried. As long as he was with you, you wouldn’t be scared.

However, you weren’t sure you’ll ever live down the hickeys.

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melrodrigo · 1 year ago

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Tardy, part 10

Tara Carpenter x Fem Reader

Summary: Tensions rise as two of your friends are found in a suspicious position.

Warnings: Mentions of violence, angst

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: I’m sorry if this sucks…writing this chapter sucked the life out of me.

Sitting in the ambulance doesn’t feel right.

You don’t think you deserve to be here, getting taken care of; while the rest of the gang goes on searching for clues. You lean against the van door, struggling to keep your eyes open.

You can’t bear to watch as the police lift Ethan’s body and wheel him into their black van.

You’re so tired that you can’t even cry.

You turn and bury yourself in the crook of Tara’s neck, trying to distract yourself with her warmth, her smell, her. She hasn’t left your side for a second since the paramedics arrived, and she doesn’t seem to mind you clinging desperately onto her either.

It might be how exhausted you are, or the fact that her comfort makes you feel so safe, it lulls you to sleep quickly.

It feels like a blink of an eye before you’re getting woken up to the sound of Sam interrogating Anika and Mindy.

“Found them just a couple minutes ago, they were knocked out,” Tara whispers to you, reading your face in the blink of an eye and knowing exactly what you were going to ask.

You inspect the pair carefully. They look like they’ve been through it.

Along with red marks all over her arms, Mindy has a little scrape of peeled skin at the top of her head.

Anika’s looks even worse.

There’s a huge purple-ish green-ish bump just right above her eyebrow. It’s in the shape of a perfect rectangle like someone had tried to knock her out with a brick.

“Where have you guys been?” Sam’s asking, sort of calm but sort of rough at the same time. There’s no doubt there is an underlying tone of suspicion in her voice.

Mindy sighs heavily, seeing right through the fake calm facade Sam’s putting on.

“Sam, we swear we do not know anything.” She’s saying, eyes wide. “We saw Ghostface coming, we ran! And the next thing you know we both got knocked out. I mean, look at the wound Sam. I know Ghostfaces have done this before, the whole hurt yourself thing. But I swear. Please, Sam.”

She looks put-together, all things considered. But Mindy’s always been one of those people, she goes through life swiftly; with nothing on her mind except for obscure indie horror films and her girlfriend.

She doesn’t sound like she’s lying, you’ll give her that.

“So you just left Danny alone?” Sam asks, clearly not as persuaded as you are.

Anika breathes loud, a sound of growing impatience.

“We were being chased. I’m sorry Sam but if it was between Mindy and Danny there’s no way I’m picking your boyfriend.” She explains, waving her hands wildly. “And we don’t even know if he’s Ghostface.” She ends, the last statement said in nothing but a hushed whisper.

Sam can’t say much about that. She breathes heavily, very much resembling the look of an angry dragon as she stands; towering.

You snuggle into Tara, deciding that you in fact do not want to be a part of this conversation.

She looks down at you and smiles, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. Then she’s wrapping her arms around you and slipping a hand in your back pocket.

She wiggles around in there a moment before you feel her fish something out and shift away from you slightly, smiling.

“Now what’s this?” She’s whispering teasingly, quiet laughter shaking her body.

You crane your neck to look at it, but all you see is a backside of a tiny piece of paper, all yellow and old looking.

Paper? You don’t remember having paper in there.

Tara stills as she reads it, her heartbeat under you quickening at a rapid pace.

“What is it, babe?” You question, tightening your grip around her waist.

She tilts her whole body to show you what’s written on the paper.

Scribbled crazily on the note in thick red liquid, are five words.

NITEHALK CINEMA - TONIGHT. BE THERE.

You stare at it for a long time, like if you looked at it hard enough it’ll dissolve into thin air. The words look almost anthropomorphic, threatening to jump out and grab you by the neck.

“Huh.” You state, turning to blankly stare at Tara. She blinks back at you, obviously also taken aback.

You guys have a silent conversation until Tara carefully untangles herself from you and makes her way toward the older Carpenter.

You see her hand Sam the paper, all eyebrows furrowed and soft voices. Sam snatches it from her, but your view gets blocked off when a paramedic comes to stand in front of you.

You eye her a little wearily, confused as to why she’s standing there.

“Hey, hon.” She says, eyes crinkling at the sides when she smiles. She has some age, you can tell, but she still looks youthful and full of life.

You relax, almost melting at her term of endearment.

You were always a sucker for one of those. Especially if they were coming from an attractive middle-aged woman.

You quirk an eyebrow, signaling that she can keep speaking.

“So, I had a quick look at the wound on your stomach there. You’ve got an infection, sweetheart. It’s nothing to worry about if you get to the hospital immediately.” She tells you, sternly.

An infection?

You open your mouth to answer her, tell her that there’s no way in hell you have enough time to do that, but Tara’s heading back before you can say a thing; and you mumble a quick, “Don’t tell her anything.”

Because the last thing you need is Tara fussing over you when there should be Ghostface hunting to do.

“So what happened?” You ask your girlfriend, grabbing and positioning her so she’s standing in between your legs.

She doesn’t say a thing about it, but you see the blush start forming.

“We’re going to the damn theater together, and we’ll end the motherfucker. Once and for all.” Tara says and then tilts her head to the side, eyes flirting between you and the paramedic as if she’s just realizing she’s here. “Everything okay?”

You cut in quickly, shooting the paramedic a look and wrapping an arm around her waist for reassurance.

“Everything’s great.” You smile.

“Aren’t we rushing into this kind of fast? Like..why are we going to a random place Ghostface clearly wants us to go to?” Chad asks, his voice betraying his fear for the whole plan.

You’ll admit, it was a sort of sudden decision, even for you.

As soon as Tara showed Sam that paper, Sam turned into an animal. Asking for papers from the medical staff still around and gathering all of you to listen to her new plan; excluding Anika and Mindy.

“Seriously?” Anika’s saying, right after Sam informed her that they weren’t invited to listen in.

Sam doesn’t relent, just stares her down with those fiery eyes she only has reserved for situations like these.

“If you want me to believe you, you’ll have no problem staying out of this,” Sam says, nodding matter-of-factly.

“Well, I don’t want to be kept out of the loop and die.” Anika mumbles, but backs down nevertheless; walking back to join Mindy dejectedly on the sidewalk.

Now, you guys are stuffed into Sam’s van, ready to take on the weirdo in the white mask once again.

Funny, this is giving me déjà vu.

But after Sam’s monologue last night, where the older carpenter had talked about sacrificing herself, it seemed to ignite a fire deep in you; one that still wanted to fight.

You know you’re not the only one who’s feeling this way.

One quick glance at the gang and you can tell everyone’s feeling motivated. You can only hope it lasts so long.

Well, everyone except Chad.

You contemplate reaching over and gripping his hand for support, but wonder if it’ll be weird because you haven’t exactly had the best relationship with him, but decide fuck it, we’re friends, and do it anyway. He sends you a nervous but supportive smile back.

Sitting still hurts. Any kind of movement only worsens the pain. It’s like the conversation with the paramedic opened your eyes because you can feel every little thing bothering you now.

By the time you guys get to the theater, your anxiety’s at an all-time high.

Beads of perfectly shaped droplets fall from your forehead at a rapid pace, and your heart feels like it’s up in your throat.

You push open the doors and try to quell your fears by acting brave. The facade disappears immediately when you see what’s in the theater.

You pale.

It’s a shrine. A goddamn shrine of Ghostface.

“Well isn’t this nice? Ghostface has a fan.” Tara mumbles, pushing past you to see further in.

Everyone slowly files in and looks around curiously, murmuring soundlessly between pairs.

You sway as you walk further in, head whirling. You stumble and hit a glass box, and you have to grip it to steady yourself.

You stare at Sam unloading the big black bag shed packed full of weapons from just last night, getting prepared.

It doesn’t help with the haziness. You need to get your mind off this shit…you need something. Your head drops to peer inside the glass box.

You think your heart literally stops when you see the collection of pictures, paintings, a summarized biography, and a bloody knife. A familiar photo makes your breath hitch.

Stu Macher : The Second Ever Ghostface

You blink. Try and steady your heartbeat by closing your eyes and sucking in a deep breath.

Just when you feel like you’re about to pass out, Tara steps up beside you, putting a hand on your back to help steady you.

“You okay?” She whispers, a concerned expression painting her features.

You look down at her, flash her a tight-lipped smile.

“Yeah.” You try and say with as much positivity as you can muster.

She sees right through it, frowning so big you’d think you’d just told her you were Ghostface.

“I know when you lie to me.” She says pointedly, pouting.

You sigh, it’s no use to lie.

“No, I’m not doing great currently, but that’s not our top priority here Tar.” You murmur softly.

She punches you in the arm, with all the power of a marshmallow bouncing off you and crosses her arms.

“It’s a priority to me.” She huffs.

You raise an eyebrow. Tara wasn’t one to give you words of affirmation, but whenever she would, she’d get adorably shy.

She’s not this time. She’s standing tall and sure of herself, staring at you like if she lets her eyes off you for even a second you’ll run away.

You contemplate telling her about what the paramedic said.

You should, you know that, but you don’t want to worry her more than she already is.

She’s tired too, you can tell. It shows through the dark circles beneath her eyes and the way her hair is just a little more ruffled than usual.

Tomorrow I will, you think. After all this is over.

You settle for wrapping your arms around her and whispering an I love you in her ear.

Tara stills, obviously surprised at your confession. It surprises you too. You guys had never really said it before, even though you’re sure the both of you felt it.

“Um..I’m sorry. It just sort of came out, you don’t need to say it back. I understand.” You say quickly, sheepishly.

Tara quells your fears with a kiss, full of passion and urgency.

It feels like it always does, so goddamn dreamy. Her and her kisses never fail to send you straight into cloud 9.

When you pull back, you’re a little dazed.

“Well…okay.” You say, smiling goofily.

Her expression matches yours, albeit a little more composed. Her red cheeks and neck don’t fool you though.

“I love you too….idiot.” She says, adding the last bit to help put her racing heart at ease.

You snicker and shake your head. Your eyes drop down to the box again, but you don’t feel nearly as bad anymore.

“Man, I’m related to that guy? He looks like an alien dog.” You whine, only sort of half joking.

Tara chuckles heartedly and pats your back softly.

“He kinda does.” She murmurs.

“What does that mean…are you saying I look like that too?” You question, eyes wide and piercing, trying to look intimidating. To Tara, you look like a lost puppy.

“I never said that.” She quips, smirking. She’s teasing you.

“Yeah, but you didn’t rebut me so I’m led to believe you agree.” You press, forming your lips into a pout.

She reaches out to try and wipe it away, but you tilt your head; trying to fight for some semblance of control here.

She tries again, leaning to grab your face and kiss you, but you swerve as quickly as possible, a small part of you a little sad at the act.

The part that wants you to win this “argument” is bigger though. And it takes control once again.

“Nuh-uh. No kisses until you admit I don’t look like an alien dog and that I’m actually mighty gorgeous.” You say, proud smile; sure you’ve won.

“Oh really?” Tara smirks, leaning back until her back is pressed against the box and your hands on both sides of her waist.

She calls your bluff. “I don’t think you’d be able to take it; not kissing me.”

You have to bite back a gulp at her boldness.

God this girl was going to be the death of you.

You challenge her, happy to have your beloved banter with your girlfriend back.

“Funny…I vaguely remember you being the one who couldn’t keep her hands

to herself for a second. And who was the one that was so impatient the first time we had sex she tripped over and landed face first into the mat?” You tease, watching Tara’s cheeks heat up.

“Hey! We promised not to talk about that.” She grumbles, disregarding her bet from 5 seconds ago and tilting up to meet your lips.

You smile against her lips, victorious.

When she sees it, she huffs slightly, mouth still connected to yours.

“Whatever.” She says, pulling back.

“Guys!” Sam’s voice booms through the theater, echoing a couple of times before fading out.

Creepy.

“Get over here! Safety in numbers, remember? Who knows where Ghostface is? For all we know, he’s already in here watching us.” She continues to yell, watching as you and Tara saunter over; hand in hand.

Her words send chills down your body, and you’re suddenly aware again of your beating heart.

You look behind Sam, seeing multiple Ghostface mannequins standing tall. It’s scary how much eeriness some pieces of fabric can create.

“Well, isn’t this a dainty place to be having our conversation?” You chuckle nervously, turning your head to the left, then the right; where you see nothing but all 9 Ghostface mannequins from the Stab franchise, or in this nightmare reality, real life.

“Can you just shut-“ Sam begins, obviously done with your bullshit attempts at lightening the mood.

The lights turn off in the theater all at once, leaving you guys in complete darkness; all stunned.

“Up.” Sam finishes, and you can already hear her feet start to shuffle as she looks and grabs around.

You feel her rough hands as she grabs at your wrist and pulls, too hard for your liking.

“Sam- Could you be a little gentler please?” You huff, trying to weasel your way out her grip.

“What are you talking about?” Sam voices, but it feels kind of far away from you. The grip around your hand suddenly feels weighted. “I’m not touching you Y/N.”

Before you can react, the hand is coming up to your mouth and pressing hard, muffling any sounds that’ll come out.

“YN? Baby? What’s going on?” Tara asks, worry seeping through her words.

You try and scream, or say anything, but the sound dies in your throat when you realize there’s something pressed against your nose.

It’s a cloth: a smelly one at that. You realize what it is immediately, all those true crime documentaries finally coming in handy. Chloroform.

The fumes are practically shoved up your nose, and you feel your knees buck underneath you.

Fuck, Tara.

You wiggle and thrash around, but nothing works, the chemical’s doing its job, because in the next second; you’re gone.

#tardy #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #scream vi #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x y/n #wednesday addams x reader

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depravitycentral · 2 years ago

Text

Haikyuu Dick Headcannons, Pt. 2

Ft. the Shiratorizawa men: Wakatoshi Ushijima, Eita Semi, Satori Tendou, Kenjirou Shirabu, Tsutomu Goshiki

Tw: implied yandere, masturbation, excessive talk of cum, spitting, facials, implied breeding, pubic hair, oversensitivity, fem reader, MDNI

Because I've sort of been neglecting my followers who came for Haikyuu content, here you are! Hopefully this will tide you over for a while <3

He’s easily six inches, and thick. It resembles the cock of a porn star; every virgin’s nightmare, with a few veins puffing out and a defined, swollen mushroom tip that always just barely slips inside you with a soft pop!Maintenance isn’t too big of a concern for him - he doesn’t really trim, instead preferring to just let it all grow wild but shower frequently to minimize any sort of odor. He doesn’t really like the way he looks shaven, not totally understanding why he should bother, because it’s natural and it’s his body. He doesn’t expect you to shave either, and will in fact question you relentlessly if you do. He’s decently sensitive, mostly because he doesn’t have a whole lot of experience - both with other people and with himself. He doesn’t jerk off much, and as a result he always lets out these slight, barely-there gasps when you touch him. He likes when you pay attention to his slit, especially if you dip your tongue against it, and his hips always jerk forward, cock pushing into your mouth and nearly choking you because it just happens so fast and forcefully – he doesn’t mean to do it, he just can’t help it. (He’ll always cup your cheek afterwards, his voice strained as he asks you if you’re okay, and he’ll promise to be gentle moving forward – which lasts right up until you pay attention to his slit again, and the cycle continues.) His balls are also pretty sensitive, and actually likes it when you go a bit rough on them – squeeze hard, and he’ll groan your name and shut his eyes tightly, brows scrunching together and his knuckles turning white as he clenches his fists.

His cum is thick, and always warm – warm enough to be considered hot, really. It smears across your skin really easily when you try to wipe at it, leaving a film that can only be removed with cold water and soap, but it’s not too big of a deal because he doesn’t produce too much of it. He shoots moderately far, and he’s only able to conjure up a good three or four spurts before he’s spent. This makes cleanup pretty straight forward because although he likes seeing you with his cum on your face, he wants to be able to kiss you and trace your lips, and he’d rather clean up the mess first and then press you up against his chest to sleep. He prefers to come inside you, and will actually have to be persuaded and explicitly asked before sex if you want him to come somewhere else – it just feels more natural to finish inside you, especially because he tends to lose all self-control once he sinks inside you. (He also likes to stare once he’s pulled out, watching how some of it oozes out and dribbles down your ass cheeks, and will often reach down to stuff it back inside, getting it all over his fingers and spreading them lightly to see the way tendrils of it stick together. He’ll even show you, telling you that he wants you to keep it all inside, where it belongs.) When he’s coming he’ll always make eye contact with you, unwavering even as his hips jerk and spasm, even if he’s groaning and his arms are giving out. He likes the intimacy of eye contact and will sometimes even lightly grasp your chin and force you to look at him while he fucks you. He’s a groaner, for the most part, the sound low and rumbly, but when he gets close the groans becomes more like moans, a little higher and a little more upturned at the ends, the pleasure starting to bleed into every part of him.

His favorite way for you to touch him is just a simple, straight-forward handjob. Because he’s not that familiar with jerking himself off, there’s still a bit of thrill when you wrap your hand around his girth, your fingers barely meeting around the sheer size of him. Plus, it feels better when you do it – his own fist doesn’t rub against him the same way yours does, and he doesn’t get as sensitive with his own touch as yours – he’s told you that you jerk him off better than he can, and he means it. He likes when you go slow, flicking your wrist as you near his tip, keeping a steady, consistent rhythm and letting the dull pleasure build. He’ll keep his eyes fixed on you, watching your face and staring at your body, not saying much as you slowly work him closer and closer, simply content to just observe you as you pleasure him. He likes the intimacy of the moment, how you’re taking care of him and willing to spend so long just to make him feel good (it’s really not that long – six or seven minutes, maximum). It makes him feel special, and he’ll always end up thrusting back against your hand, getting himself just that tiny bit deeper, adding a tiny bit more friction, feeling just a tiny bit better knowing that he’s essentially fucking your hand. Reach down and play with his balls as you stroke him – lightly tug at them, rolling them between your fingers and squeezing. You’ll feel him throb in your hands, this vulnerable, genuine gasp falling from his lips, and although he’s not particularly vocal, he likes it when you are. He wants you to narrate to him what you’re doing, telling him how you’re feeling, even when he’s the one receiving the pleasure. It doesn’t have to be much – just a simple you’re so big, ‘Toshi making him bite his lip, defined abs contracting and trembling as he lets a rushed coming, just enough warning for you to prepare as ropes of warm, sticky cum shoot out, landing all over your hand and coating you in white. He wants you to lick the cum off your fingers one by one, slowly and not breaking eye contact, but he’s too shy to tell you, instead content with seeing it all over your skin. He just likes how sweet the moment is, and although he’ll immediately return the favor by settling his face between your legs for however long you’d like him to, he comes best when you’re touching him in simple, genuine ways. (And, when you’re looking at him and playing with his balls. That certainly doesn’t hurt.)

He’s thoroughly average – five inches, average girth, average sensitivity, just a truly utilitarian, satisfactory cock. However, Eita’s got enough experience to know what to do with said cock, how to make you cry out and cream on him and clench down on him like a fucking vice. He’s very observant, eyes always watching your reactions to things, studying the way you bite your lip when he’s thrusting into you, the way you grip at the sheets, even the way you moan his name. He’s perfected the art of rolling his hips, actually thrusting rather than jackhammering, pushing in fast but pulling out slowly so that you can feel every ridge and inch of him. He’s also got very good aim – once he’s found your sweet spot, he’s able to target his thrusts pretty precisely, hitting at least the general area with every punch of his hips. The end result is that you almost always end up coming on his cock, his thumb pressing circles against your clit to help you along. And this is great news for Eita, because he gets so much more sensitive when there’s copious amounts of slick helping guide him in and out, the extra wetness and warmth giving him just the right amount of extra stimulation to send him over the edge. He keeps himself mostly shaven, liking the way it looks, but occasionally he’ll slack a bit, leaving a layer of light stubble that tickles your cheeks when you’re taking him in your mouth.

He's a shooter, but it’s a pretty weak stream. There’s not a huge amount of force behind it, so when it lands on your body it feels like gentle rain – just with very large droplets. His cum actually tastes pretty decent, which is shocking because his diet isn’t the best, especially when he’s on the road. He likes coming on you, but the longer he spends being sexually active with you, the more he finds himself being drawn to finishing inside you, cock plugging you up between your legs. He’s always fascinated by the side of how your cunt – still convulsing a bit after the orgasm he just gave you – pushes a bit out rhythmically. (Sometimes, when he’s trying to brainstorm for song writing, he’ll think back to those rhythms, inspiration suddenly hitting him as he writes a love song, lyrics full of sexual innuendos and yearning.) Eita doesn’t come too terribly quickly, but even if he does it’s okay because he’s able to recover pretty quickly, only needing a good five minutes before he’s rock hard again, cock still covered in his cum and drooling more pre. He really enjoys overstimulating you, so this comes in handy often. He’s decently vocal during sex, but his talking takes a sharp uptake as he nears his orgasm, the words growing less understandable and more rushed as he gets closer and closer. He curses a lot, labored breaths of shit or fucking hell, babe slipping past his lips. And when he’s right on the cusp, he’s slurring out compliments and praises of you, telling you that you’re so damn pretty, lamenting on about how he loves you, chanting like a prayer mine mine mine. He hips go stock still when he’s coming, completely frozen inside you except for the pulsing, letting your walls clamp down on him and furthering his orgasm.

His favorite way for you to touch him is head, but particularly where he’s in control. He’ll always let you have your fun at first when you get on your knees for him, letting you suck and kitten lick at his tip. He’ll let you do whatever you want at first – his hips will buck a bit if you suck really, really hard at the head, but he’ll let you do whatever feels right. Eventually, though, he’ll reach a point where he wants to take over, because you pleasuring him is teasing him, not giving him quite what he’s so desperately seeking. And so, he’ll tangle his fingers in your hair, physically moving your head rather than thrusting himself, treating you like some glorified hole for him to fuck. He’s still muttering all those compliments from before, telling you that you look pretty below him, that your mouth feels good, that he’s wanted this for so damn long, all the while feeling his orgasm draw closer and closer. But the fantasy really comes into play when he finishes – wrapping his fingers around his base, pulling your head off of him and vigorously, violently rutting his fist up and down, jerking himself off as his orgasm builds and builds and builds, eventually crashing down and making him slur out your name, your mouth wide open as he aims his cock, tip right above your open mouth. He wants to control where it all lands, all against your tongue, lolled out and waiting for him. There’s something about the sight that gets him panting, and when it’s all finished he’ll want you to make a show of swallowing it, opening your mouth back up to show him you’ve gulped down every last fucking drop. He’ll want you to lean in and suckle at him a bit more, tongue swiping out to catch any remaining bits of cum, licking him clean and making sure to take everything he’s giving you. It’ll get him shivering in oversensitivity, not quite ready for another round yet, but he doesn’t mind the pain – not when he's got you on your hands and knees minutes later, sinking into you with a thumb working diligently against your clit, determined to make you feel the same as him if not even better. (Often, when his next orgasm hits him, nothing will even come out – he’s shooting blanks, every bit of cum he had to offer already having been swallowed by you earlier.)

He’s five inches, the average size but with a few above average details. When Satori gets hard, he really, really does - when you reach out to grasp at him, fingers wrapping around his shaft, he’s truly solid, truly firm to the touch. If you try to squeeze you’ll be met with resistance, his cock so genuinely swollen and desperate to be inside of you that he’s rock fucking hard. He’s veiny, too; they criss cross and decorate the length of his cock, sitting up raised and sensitive to the touch. The kind of veins you see on posts of men smoking cigarettes and having long, nimble fingers – those kinds of veins. He likes when you trail your tongue lightly along the different lines and patterns, a draw-out hiss slipping past his lips as his eyes flutter but don’t quite shut. His cock goes bright red the moment he gets hard, the pretty rose color standing out against his pale skin, nearly matching his hair. Depending on the day you catch him, he can be a bit insecure about his cock; he wants you to like it really, really badly, and the first time you’ve got him naked in front of you, he’ll be blushing and watching your every expression, hoping and praying that you like what you’re seeing, what you’re tasting, what you’re feeling. It spurs him on to hear you praise him, and the moment you say anything positive about his dick, he’s fucking you harder, faster, deeper, anything to get you crying his name and clenching down on him like you’ll never let him pull out.

His cum is thin, always running down your skin and leaving a milky trail behind. It’s plentiful; there’s just so much of it, and when he’s stuffing your mouth, he’ll often have to pull out and finish on your face to avoid choking you. (He likes this, though, if only because the sight of you with his cum dripping past your lips and down your chin gets him ready for round two, the urge to stuff every possible hole full of his cum making him near feral.) He dribbles a bit, streaming out of his tip as he pants and groans, like a faucet that hasn’t been turned off with the way it just keeps coming. His favorite place to finish is on your breasts, liking how it looks against your soft skin. He likes to scoop some up with his thumb and rub it against your nipple, smearing it and leaving a sheen against the pebbled skin. When he comes, his whole body jerks, spasming and shuddering, and he even writhes a bit, as if the pleasure is just too much for him to handle. He’s trembling before, during and after he finishes, needing quite some time to calm down. He has to reach out and grasp onto something (normally it’s you or the bedframe), trying to ground himself because his orgasms are powerful, sucking the air out of his lungs and leaving him unable to walk for a few minutes without his knees buckling. He’s a moaner, too, always saying your name or mindlessly babbling, just needing some way to express the pleasure he’s feeling all because of you.

His favorite way for you to touch him is when you ride him, bouncing yourself up and down on top of him as he lays down, clutching at the pillow behind his head. He likes the way you look, especially when you lean down too, your tits squishing against his chest as your hips keep working away at him, alternating between grinding down and thrusting, never quite letting him comfortable before changing it up. He likes when you kiss him while you fuck him, and his lips will be insistent, eager, the kiss wet and sloppy and fully of passion. He’ll ask to touch you, bringing his hands up to press against your back, tangling into your hair, cupping at your ass, always wandering and wanting to grab and touch more and more. He likes the way your cunt grips him, milking him for all he’s worth as you use him, his cock like your own personal dildo as you make a mess of him. It feels like heaven, and if you bring two fingers down, slipping them past his lips? Well, Satori is immediately sucking and moaning around them, the only thing he possibly enjoys more being when you spit into his mouth. He likes giving you control, and feeling the way you take charge and squeeze around his length gets his head spinning and his chest heaving, his orgasm drawing closer alarmingly quickly with every bounce of your hips. You feel like heaven, and he’ll want to finish inside you, sending ropes of his cum as deeply inside you as possible – this angle lets him get as deep as physically possible, and he’ll want you to just lay with him afterwards, cock still nestled in your cunt as you sooth sweet words down at him, playing with his hair and letting him calm down from the very slight subspace you’d worked him into. (If you call him pretty in his post-orgasmic glow, the tiniest little dribble of cum will come from his tip, making him shudder and gasp your name, embarrassment eating him up and making him even cuter.)

He’s just shy of five inches, but he’s got a decent amount of girth that makes up for his smaller length. His cock is very heavy, always drooping a bit when he gest hard, never quite passing the ninety degree mark. His tip always takes on this dark color, too, a maroon that showcases just how much blood is flowing to his cock whenever you arouse him. His balls are heavy, too, and although they don’t droop as much as his shaft, they are incredibly sensitive. Almost too sensitive, if Kenjirou’s being honest, because even just the brush of your hand against them gets him sucking in his breath, torn between wanting you to do it again and wanting you to avoid them because he will come if you keep going. Overall, his cock’s not particularly pretty, but it’s functional and will make you lick your lips a bit when you see it – it’s a man’s, packing a punch when he bullies it inside your cunt, always stretching you out more than you expect. He’s a little bit insecure about his size, however, so don’t say anything to him about it – he doesn’t even really like you looking at it for long periods of time, if only because it’s just embarrassing to have you examine him like that, with your eyes all wide and glassy and lust pooling in your gut.

He dribbles, and there’s lot of it; it comes out in bursts, oozing from his tip in globs and dripping all the way down his length, down over his balls, even sometimes getting down to his thighs. It’s pretty watery, and not super opaque – it’s more of a slightly translucent white, to the point where when it’s smeared all over your lips, Kenjirou could mistake it for lip gloss. (But lip gloss doesn’t make your lips look as good as his cum does, he swears. Especially when your lips are all swollen and battered from sucking him off, from excessive kissing and biting.) He’s not too much of a moaner, instead grunting more or muttering out slurred phrases and syllables that sound suspiciously like your name. He’ll let out these harsh exhales of breath as he gets closer, almost sounding pained as the pleasure intensifies. (One time you thought it was a sign of pain and pulled off him, straddling him and asking if he was okay, only to receive an honest to god growl while his hands clutched at your hips and brought you back down to sit on his cock, a strained, bitten back keep going slipping through grit teeth.) His face scrunches up when he comes, eyebrows drawing together tight and eyes closing, his mouth settling into almost a grimace as he rides out the waves of his pleasure – it feels good, he promises, it’s just his face. Prefers to come on your body, or in your mouth – inside you is fine, too, but he really likes seeing his cum against your skin. He thinks you look good like that, and sometimes, as he’s coming down from his orgasmic high, he’ll even run his fingertips over your cum-stained skin and mutter a small pretty…

His favorite way for you to touch him is when you’re sitting in his lap, gyrating your hips nice and slow. His orgasms are stronger when they come from long-lasting, duller pleasure, and the grind of your cunt against his cock makes his head spin, yearning for more friction and more more more. He likes when you move in circular motions, going clockwise for a while before suddenly changing directions and going counter-clockwise, the sudden change making him hiss under his breath. He likes you to be fully naked when you do this, because he’ll often lean forward and suck a nipple into his mouth, his hands squeezing at the fat of your hips and waist, brown eyes admiring the way you look perched in his lap, like some sort of god. He’ll often try to control your pacing, those hands at your hips pushing and pulling you, trying to get you to speed up or slow down, almost using you like his own personal toy. As he gets closer he’ll move your body faster and faster, the desperation growing and morphing into something that makes him bury his face into the crook of your neck, or against your sternum, an uneven, shaky exhale of your name filling your ears as something warm and wet smears against your pretty folds. He just likes that he gets to look at your face the whole time, and orgasming this way is less embarrassing than the headrush that being inside you and getting direct stimulation gives him – he can control it better this way, sound less depraved, sound less needy for you.

He’s a solid five inches with a little bit extra, though he is on the skinnier side. He’s got a few veins that run along the top and on the side; not too much, but enough to be noticeable. He likes when you drag your tongue along them, tracing the lines and making him shiver. He’s decently sensitive, always swallowing and gulping as a way to stop any sound from slipping past his lips. Early into his developing feelings for you, he took the time to meticulously and carefully trim himself, even going completely shaven once or twice just to see how it felt. (He’s got this weird fixation with making sure that he looks perfect the first time that he gets you naked in front of him, and this includes his grooming. Eventually, however, he gives up, deciding that it’s too much time and effort, though he keeps a razor in his bathroom always prepped and ready on the off chance that he thinks he might get lucky with you that night – he’s pretty optimistic, so this happens pretty often, never quite getting fruition.) His cock’s always moving, though; he bobs heavily, always seeming to twitch and throb even without stimulation. It's like it’s got a mind of its own – beads of precum drool from his tip at the slightest thought or suggestion of you doing anything even remotely sexual, and immediately he’s throbbing, sometimes even being visible through his pants when he’s really pent up and achingly hard.

His cum does, unfortunately, taste pretty bad. It’s bitter, incredibly so, and although he tries to make it more edible by changing his diet, it doesn’t work too well. This is pretty unfortunate, because he really loves fucking your mouth, and always ends up wanting to finish inside. However, he’s noticed your grimaces and the way your face gets all puckered when you taste him after he comes down your throat, and he won’t press the issue too hard. (He will, however, try to keep himself inside your mouth for as long as possible, only pulling out at the last possible second. Often, he’s not quite fast enough, however – cum releases both inside your mouth and out, making a mess and leaving the taste against your tongue.) His cum is pretty runny, having more the consistency of water, making it very quick to spread and run down your chin and throat, stopping and bunching up at your breasts. He shoots, and quite far, too – a good foot or so, the force behind his orgasms clearly visible in the way he throws his head back, cheeks bright red and sending cum flying, quite literally strong enough to knock over inanimate objects. He moans a lot, the words turning incoherent as he nears his finish, though it’s not too important you hear them. It’s mostly just your name, little pleas and slurred please’s, all melding together to create something that sounds like a mixture of a moan and a whine. His body jerks when he comes, too, his abs clenching and visibly flexing as it just keeps spurting out of him.

His favorite way for you to touch him, as briefly mentioned, is when you give him head. There’s something about it that he really likes – it’s been his longest standing fantasy, one of the very first things he found himself imagining after his feelings for you formed, and holds a special place in his heart. He’ll want you to be on your knees, looking up at him with fluttering lashes and a tongue flicking out to lick across your lips. He’s not too picky on how you suck him off, but he wants it to be messy, liking the feeling of your spit coating him and god, when you pull off him with a wet noise, the strand of saliva and precum that connects your lips to his tip is enough to get him tangling his fingers in your hair, mumbling your name like a prayer as he guides you to take him in again, to keep going deeper and deeper, even if you’re gagging and choking. He’ll want to finish in your mouth, burying himself to the hilt, balls pressed firmly against the curve of your chin as he throbs, balls clenching tightly and flooding your mouth with cum. He wants it to go directly down your throat, and he won’t pull away until it’s all been released, every drop safe and secure in your warm little mouth. He wants to watch you swallow, and he’ll give himself a few pumps as an afterthought as he watches, once more growing hard and aroused because you just swallowed his cum, do you want some more?

#yandere haikyuu #yandere ushijima #yandere tendou #yandere semi #yandere goshiki #yandere shirabu #hakyuu smut #yandere haikyuu smut #_lee's headcannons #_haikyuu #_wakatoshi ushijima #_satori tendou #_eita semi #_kenjirou shirabu #_tsutomu goshiki

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redheadspark · 4 months ago

Note

ahh can we get modern au benedict and mix between scenarios 3 and 10?

A/N - This is cute, thanks for requesting this, anon!

Cider

Summary - Benedict brings you comfort after a movie scares you

Warnings - Mostly Fluff

“This was not a good idea,”

“No, no it’s fine,”

“Clearly it’s not, darling,”

You cringed from the sound of concern in his voice as your husband Benedict looked over at you with worry laced on his face. With the credit rolling on the screen in front of you, you found yourself gripping the blanket that was dropped across you a bit too tightly, with the dim lights of the living room not showing the genuine fear on your face from watching the movie you thought you could stomach.

Keyword: thought.

You got your hands on the most recent horror movie that an old friend of yours is starring in. She got one of the first copies before it would be sold on the market, and since you were one of her first supporters when she became an actress, she would always make sure you got into premiers or events for any of her films. You were grateful for her, even more so since she was the one who introduced you to Benedict at a large movie premiere. His family was well known in the charity and creative world realm, Benedict especially with his paintings and canvas work.

Now 6 months later, in your new apartment that you both moved into for the first time, you were a scardy cat over a simple movie. Pathetic.

“Here,” Benedict replied, taking the remote control to change the settings of the TV. The movie was gone, replaced with a random TV show on the cooking channel as he then hopped up from the couch to turn on a few lights. With warmth filling the room again, you realized that you were in fact clutching your blanket far too tight. Almost ripping it in half.

“A change of scenery is a must, don’t you think?” He asked as he then reached over to gently take the blanket off of you. Your fingers, once they were done holding the blanket for dear life, faced from top to bottom as Benedict then laced his own fingers with yours. He kissed the back of your hand lovingly.

“I think some hot cider is still in the pot, let’s have some,” He suggested, helping you up from the couch as you were still a bit shaken. The small living room was neatly decorated with Halloween and fall decor, something you both bought on a mini shopping spree since you two were excited about having Halloween together. It was your favorite holiday, ever since you were a little girl you thought the holiday was the best. Surpassing Christmas even, there was something about the autumn weather and being able to dress up in whatever you wished to be for one night.

Thankfully, you found a husband who loved Halloween as much as you did.

Walking through your apartment and dodging the cobweb decoration that was a pinch too low over the archway that led into the kitchen. Even the kitchen was decorated for Halloween, most of it was hand towels and knick-knacks that were on the countertops and within the cupboards. Thankfully, some of your friends gave you both Halloween decorations as a wedding gift and an apartment-warming present as well, clearly reminding you of your love for the holiday.

“AH, here we are. Let’s warm this up again,” Benedict said warmly as he moved to reheat the cider that was in the teapot. You leaned against the countertop, watching your husband at work as he hummed to himself while getting the teapot going again, “I’m grateful that Kate lent up this recipe,”

“I do love our sister-in-law,” You agreed as you chuckled, “She keeps Anthony in line,”

Benedict laughed as the cider was getting hot once again within minutes. He looked over at you, grinning from ear to ear at your appearance. Sporting your pajamas that included an old college t-shirt and sweats, your long hair that needed a trim, and dark circles under your eyes, he thought you were beyond beautiful. He always seemed the beauty in most of the things that were around him, especially with you. Someone who wore their heart off their sleeve, someone who was bold in what she said in how she said it, someone who loved wholeheartedly and would expect nothing in return.

He can only pour in as much love as you pour into others.

“Pouring out some cider into a fresh mug, he handed the drink to you as you wrapped your fingers around the mug tenderly. The spicy and yet soothing scent of the cider filled your nose, making those worries and fears from the movie slip away even more while you take a long drink. The spices hit your tongue along with the sweet apple taste going down your throat.

He knew you hated scary movies, realizing you weren’t a fan when he took you out on a movie date early in your relationship. Of course, you were trying to have a brave face, not wishing to back out from the movie since you were looking forward to having time with Benedict because of both of your busy lives. Yet halfway through the film when Benedict looked over at you, he saw the wide eyes and how your hand was clutching the armchair in a death grip. In fact, one of the jump scares in the film made you almost spill the entire tub of popcorn you two were sharing.

It was safe to say that Benedict was more aware of your scary movie phobia.

“How do you feel now, darling?” He asked as you grinned over the top of your mug. Seeing your husband taking care of you over your silly little fear, made your heart burst even more as you nodded your head.

“Better now, thank you, sweetheart,” You thanked, seeing him roll his eyes as he walked over to kiss you on the top of your head.

“Anytime. Plus, you know the deal: I’m right next to you for you to snuggle with if you do get scared,” He reassured you with a smirk on his lips, though you giggled as you swatted his arm.

“You say that just to get closer to me. Remember the last time you tried that move with me on our anniversary?” You reminded him, seeing him blush as you went on, “You wrapped your arm around me while I was distracted, tucked me in a bit closer when I got spooked, and then you—“

His hand went over your mouth immediately, you giggled as he was giving you a mocked look of shock.

“I remember us deciding not to discuss that anymore, dear,” he said, though he giggled as bad as you were as you licked his palm. He threw his hand off your mouth as you laughed, though he dived in and crowded you against the counter to kiss you soundly. He always swept you off your feet at the right time. Giving you the best hug when you told him about your promotion, kissing you down your neck when you fell into bed together for the first time, Kissing away the tears after you both returned from your grandfather's funeral.

But most of all, kissing you for the first time at a Halloween party.

The End.

October Prompt Session

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x female reader #fanfiction #writing #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton season 4 #benedict bridgerton fanfiction

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absolutebl · 1 year ago

Text

This Week in BL - It's 2024 & I'm talking about TayNew... really?

(They pretty much told us all to sit down and shut tf up, 'cause they got this. AND THEY DO.)

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Feb 2024 Wk 3

Ongoing Series - Thai

Cherry Magic (Sat YouTube grey) ep 9 of 12 - I broke. In my defense, it was Monday, I needed comfort, and TayNew were right tf there. Ya know what? They are great in this show. It's a great adaptation. I might like it more than the JBL live action. You know why? Really, honestly WHY...?

That was a PHENOMENAL KISS. Those boys did Thailand fucking proud. They did fandom a solid. Thank you OGs for reminding us how it's done. I was getting used to SloppyHot. And SloppyHot has its place, but that TayNew rooftop kiss was a top tear class act. It was tender and sweet and respectful and joyful. It was eye work and breath work and years of practice. How very far BL has come while still staying so much the same. TayNew - I salute you!

(Read all about distribution issues here.)

The Sign (Sat YT) ep 12fin - we waiting, I guess? Bah.

Cooking Crush (Sun YT) ep 11 of 12 - The recipe book thing was so damn cute and I love a claiming. YOU KNOW I LOVE A CLAIMING!

In fact, I love OffGun.

I love food based BL.

I adored seeing a reboot of "the infamous dragging".

But I don’t love anything else about this show. Sigh.

1000 Years Old ep 1 of 12 - Finally we get our gay vampire BL from Feel Good Bangkok. Stars Shane (My Engineer) and fresh face Opal, directed by Champ (2gether). It’s kind of odd but enjoyable. A group of teen UFO seekers find a vampire instead. Opal looks a bit like a mix between Newnu + Leo (VIXX) - so cute + edge. Also, nice to see Shane again on our screens after so long.

Finally, I like the subtle (and sometimes not subtle) presence of ghosts permeating this show. Do the friends know she's there? Do they know she's dead? Is the existence of paranormal accepted but not that of aliens? Or are the two combined? Is this lazy writing or just fun world building? Who cares! It's enjoyable.

For Him (Thurs iQIYI) ep 12fin - the nail painting bit was very cutie queers and I've not seen it done in BL before, so that was nice. For some reason captions never dropped for me on this last episode, but it didn’t really matter. Not much happened and I understood everything anyway.

Quick pitch?

From the people who brought us Unforgotten Night based on a y-novel, about a young man nursing a heartbreak who has a one-night stand, but the other boy didn't want it to end. This turned out to be a pulp that wasn’t half as good as it should have been and even less memorable, but not terrible. 5/10 DON'T BOTHER unless you're v bored

City of Stars (Fri iQIYI) ep 3 of 12 - Oh it is such a pulp: the acting is not good and the script is terrible. Of course, I’m mildly enjoying it. Very good dream kissing. There's something appealing about these main characters - I think it's the moot crushes. We rarely get to see that. These days everything feels very one sided, this... isn't.

A Secretly Love (Thai WeTV) - Khonprot, a third-year hazer of the engineering faculty, has a secret crush on Pluem, a tsundere fourth-year head hazer. Over the years, he's seen Pluem cycle through girlfriends. Recently, after a public breakup, however, Khonprot thinks maybe a boy has a chance.

I tried but I can't get into my WeTV account anymore and I'm way too lazy to figure it out. I'll catch it grey if I can, since I've rebooted the bootlegging side of my BL life for Cherry Magic anyway.

So this show may stay in this section, or I may bump it down to "it's airing but..."

If anyone is watching it, let me know if it's good?

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Love For Love's Sake (Korea Weds iQIYI) 7-8fin - Ugh it was GREAT, despite some pretty telling flaws. I ended up feeling like some of the filming was amateurish (very overworked low angles - director's first feature, I assume), and the narrative is a little disjoined and on the nose, AND the subs are clumsy (which I don't expect from KBL) BUT I still loved it. (FYI - I wouldn't be so harsh on a BL for this kinda thing except one from Korea.)

Quick pitch:

This isekai-based KBL is about a man who must win a game by convincing a reserved teen outcast to fall in love with him. Of course, that teen represents himself and his own unhappiness. Like many queer narratives, this show is actually about self worth, trust, and found family, and it is VERY on the nose. But I don’t expect subtlety from my BL and I enjoyed it's truly lovely redemption arc and earnest performances. While I found the narrative a touch disjointed with overworked filming angles and poorer than average captions, this is certainly much better than early KBL in terms of consistency of tone, script, and immersion. Highly rewatchable and charming, which counts for a lot. 9/10

Trigger warning for suicide depicted.

Perfect Propose (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 4 of 6 - Gosh, it’s so lovely. But I do just constantly want to give them both hugs.

AntiReset (Taiwan Fri Viki/Gaga) ep 4 of 10 - Oh look, Taiwan has created yet another BL where I spend most of the time watching it grinning like an idiot. Surprise surprise. The pet name thing was fucking adorable. Also Taiwan once more proving they come by their "kings of kissing" title honestly. I mean to say. In a week of good kisses this one was just... WOW.

On the other hand, some of the underpinning themes are starting to v worry me (ownership, consent, age), and we only just got started, and I don't trust this production company so... I have concerns.

But also... YAY KISSES!

(I'm made of weak moral fiber.)

Although I Love You and You AKA Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 6 of 10 - Like many other shows on this list. I just enjoy it the most when the two leads are on screen together. So this episode was kind of lacking because they were apart for most of it. I also am starting to agree with the tone of the plot, that maybe they ARE better off as friends not lovers. (And I'm sure I'm not supposed to want that.) Oh Japan, must you?

My Strawberry Film (Japan Gaga) ep 1 of 8 - Oh it’s good. In the arthouse lane so don’t expect sweetness & light or an HEA. If there’s no cartoon aspect to a JBL, there’s usually no joy. But it is certainly good. Teens uncover some old film and a mystery around a pretty girl. The background music is wildly annoying (and rarely in the background).

It's Done

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - will binge when I have any spare time. 2024 is crazy busy for me so far.

The Servant and the Young Master - from Vietnam, it's on YouTube. I will give it a try when I have a window of time.

Began Beginning (Myanmar YouTube) - A Burmese BL? @heretherebedork vouched for it, so I will give it a watch.

7 Days Before Valentine (Weds WeTV) - Gave me Luminous Solution vibes have decided not to watch.

It's Airing But...

Dead Friend Forever (Thai iQIYI) - rumors are it's interesting. I'm waiting to know how it ends.

Ossans Love Season 2 (Japan Gaga) - 5 years later, will anything have changed? This is Japan so… probubly not. I won't be watching this. I disliked Season one and actively hated the follow ups. No thank you.

Playboyy (Thurs Gaga) 14 eps - Dear Playboyy, it's not you, it’s me… I hate you. You’re about as deep (and as palatable) as a shot glass of cum. While I'm sure you’re someone’s kink, you're my weakest link. Goodbye. I DNFed this at ep 5. Frankly I'm impressed with myself for getting that far.

Time the series (Tue Gaga/YT) 10 eps - dropped it at ep 4.

Next Week Looks Like This:

2/24 Unknown (Taiwan Youku) 12 eps - Older brother tough guy breadwinner looks after his sister and defacto adopted little brother. Little bother falls in love with him and is sent away after a stolen kiss. But when he comes back…

Sam Lin has a cameo so even if I wasn't already excited, I'm in. We should be on our guard though, Taiwan will occasionally go edgy, dark, and sad... this could go there.

One assumes GMMTV is filling in the BL time slot with something queer on their YT Channel after Cooking Crush ends, they gonna lose subs if they don't. But I've not been paying attention to the chatter so I don't know which of their line-up it will be. I think G4 are filming/off radar now, and Earth is in that het noona thing? Plus they gotta sort out the IP for MIx-Up and Ossen. So it won't be one of the announced adaptations. They'll hold My Golden Blood for the high season, so I think it'll be one of the lesser known lead-outs. Wandee or Only Boo maybe? But they only just started filming those. Are we getting our long awaited GL? Anything else left from 2023 that I forgot about?

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Two crawling kisses from Thailand this week. Now this is a fetish I didn't know I had. Turns out, we love this one! (*waves hand in air* I speak for all of us now.)

Cooking Crush

City of Stars

Possibly the best tsundere to cinnamon roll pivot we've had in a long time.

Also the best asshole to KING pivot. Could we have a whole drama staring this character now? Please?

And finally our sunshine learning to love himself.

SIGH. what a lovely show.

And a good SMILEY kiss from a KBL.

And then some cute cuddles? Korea is spoiling me these days. I'm catching expectations now. What's next? Japan learns to kiss in their light BLs? Ha! I kill me.

(All Love for Love's Sake).

(Last week)

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senawashere · 8 months ago

Note

about those TGM requests

me with fanboy... that's it.

First rule...

Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia x Female!Girlfriend!reader

Summary: Movie date night turns into a little lecture with Mickey.

A/n: Thank you sweetheart for requesting this!! Love you!!💋💋

Warnings: None just pure fluff,just kissing!

°•°•°•°•☆♡☆°•°•°•°

"What is the first rule of fight club sweetheart?" Mickey asked looking at you with a grin,soon to be a disappeard.

"What?" You ask. There is 50 second eye contact with Mickey and he looks at you with wide eyes and a dropped jaw.

“How have you never seen Fight Club before? How babe?”

Mickey’s shocked expression made laugh hard while he was still looking at you like you have 3 heads. That’s how you end up watching Fight Club for the first time

The night was crisp and chilly, the kind that made you want to curl up with someone you love under a thick blanket. And your boyfriend who freshly returned from a long deployment was looking good for this.

Mickey and you had settled into the couch, your legs tangled together under layers of soft, cozy throws. The dim light from the screen of your TV flickered across the room as the opening credits of "Fight Club" rolled.

Mickey had insisted on movie night after a long time, and you had eagerly agreed. He loved "Fight Club"—its gritty realism, the intense performances, and its provocative themes. It was the perfect escape. Mickey, however, had a tendency to dive into the details, dissecting every scene with an intensity he usually reserved for his flights.

"Did you know that David Fincher wanted the audience to feel the subconscious presence of Tyler Durden from the start?" Mickey's voice was animated, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "They actually spliced frames of Brad Pitt into scenes before his character was even introduced. It’s so subtle that you barely notice it."

You nodded, smiling at his enthusiasm. It was only 10 minutes and he was telling every fact he knew.

"That's pretty impressive," you said, trying to keep the conversation light. The last thing you wanted was to dampen his spirits, but you really just wanted to enjoy the movie without the running commentary. And with the movie being a hard one to understand you were struggling.

As the film progressed, Mickey continued his enthusiastic ramblings. "Right here!The chemical burn scene? They used vinegar and baking soda to create the smoke effect on Norton’s hand. And Fincher actually used footage of real skin-burning reactions for authenticity."

You nodded again, more absently this time. Your eyes were fixed on the screen, trying to lose yourself in the gritty visuals and dark humor, but Mickey's voice kept pulling you back. What the hell was going on in this movie? As you thought while Mickey gave you every single fact for every shot.

"For the scenes where they destroy the corporate art, they used a combination of practical effects and CGI. They really wanted it to look and feel anarchistic, like a real middle finger to consumer culture," Mickey continued, his voice unwavering in its excitement.

"Mickey," you said softly, hoping to gently steer him back to just watching. "I am really trying to understand it and it is very hard while you talk like this baby.”

He glanced at you, his smile apologetic but still eager. "Sorry, I just find all these little details fascinating. Like, did you know when Marla and Tyler were fucki—"

You leaned over and kissed him, cutting off his words mid-sentence. His lips were warm and soft, a stark contrast to the cool night air that seeped through the windows. For a moment, he was startled, but then he relaxed into the kiss, his hands finding their way to your waist.

When you finally pulled back, you looked into his eyes and saw a mixture of surprise and amusement. "I just really want to enjoy the movie," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the yelling from the narator.

He chuckled softly, his hand coming up to brush a stray lock of hair from your face. "Got it," he said, his voice a gentle murmur. "I'll try to keep the commentary to a minimum."

"Thank you,my love" you said, snuggling closer to him. "But I do love your passion for it."

Mickey smiled and wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his chest. You lay there together, the movie playing on, and for a while, he managed to stay quiet. You lost yourself in the dark narrative, the twisted philosophy, and the raw performances.

But it wasn't long before Mickey couldn't help himself. "They filmed this scene in an actual abandoned building. Can you imagine how creepy that must have been?" Mickey continued, his voice unwavering in its excitement. You turned your head slightly to look at him, your expression a mix of exasperation and fondness. He caught your look and grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, sorry," he said, kissing your forehead. "I just got carried away."

"I know you do," you said with a sigh, though you couldn't keep the smile off your face. "It's one of the things I love about you."

You settled back into silence, and you tried to focus on the movie again. Mickey's arm was around you, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your shoulder. The warmth of his body next to yours, combined with the soothing rhythm of the film, was enough to make you forget the world outside.

But true to form, Mickey couldn't resist one last comment. "The ending... the whole twist with Tyler Durden being the Narrator's alter ego. Fincher hinted at it throughout the film with subliminal flashes of Tyler before he actually appears."

You didn't respond this time, just leaned your head against his shoulder and let the movie's final scenes wash over you. When the credits finally rolled, you felt a tear slip down your cheek, moved by the powerful conclusion. Mickey wiped the tear away with his thumb, his expression soft and tender. "Told you," he whispered.

You nodded, unable to speak for a moment. Then you looked up at him and smiled. "You were right," you said. "It was brilliant."

He leaned down and kissed you again, and this time, you didn't stop him. The movie was over, but the night was still young, and there was no place you'd rather be than here, wrapped in Mickey's arms, sharing these quiet moments together.

“Okay baby,spill all the facts now.” You said watching him forming a big grin on his face.

“"The guy who plays the Narrator—Edward Norton—he actually punched Brad Pitt in one of the scenes. They wanted it to look as real as possible and also did you know that they used CGI to create some of these opening credits? That's so cool and you see the way the camera moves during this fight scene? It's a single take. No cuts. That takes incredible skill from both the actors and the crew and listen you know the scene where they blow up the buildings? We saw it right now. They used a combination of miniatures and CGI to get the perfect shot. It’s so realistic that people thought they actually demolished a skyscraper. And this is so funny, did you know that Brad Pitt and Edward Norton actually learned how to make soap for their roles in 'Fight Club'? They attended soap-making classes to prepare for their characters' underground soap business,isn’t so funny. And als-”

“Okay that’s enough baby please!!”

°•°•°•°☆♡☆°•°•°•°

Need a man like this🤭

I'm tagging people who might be interested: @ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @callsign-fox @greenorangevioletgrass @roosterforme @teacupsandtopgun @floydsglasses @lyn-js @its-dee-lovely @its-the-pilot @friedchips94 @hardballoonlove @topguncortez @bradshawsbaddie @shanimallina87 @djs8891 @themusingofagothicsoul @promisingyounglady @the-romanian-is-bae @mamachasesmayhem @jessicab1991 @iefitzgerald-blog @charcole-grey @waterriseslew @desert-fern @eternalsams @callsigns-haze @promisingyounglady @els-marvelvsp @cevansbaby-dove @atarmychick007 if you are not comfortable please tell me!!

#sena writes #mickey fanboy garcia #mickey fanboy garcia x reader #mickey garcia #mickey garcia x reader #fanboy x reader #fanboy x you #fanboy top gun #topgun maverick #top gun fan fiction #fight club #one shot

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