#then preens when it's complimented
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ratatatastic ¡ 3 months ago
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lmaoooo maffhew wanting the knot immediately and having to wait for sasha to catch up with that is so deeply funny like. this omega is not subtle and you’re not a stupid alpha babe! can only imagine what benny has to say to maffhew about it once he catches on and stops banging his head against a wall
idiots to lovers is always great but especially when its two people who would be hitched with 10 kids by now if they stopped being dumb for a single second like its that easy and yet...
to me they very much fall around the same time (infatuation at first scent if you will) just that sasha takes some time to get there not because he's dumb (okay he's a little dumb) but in the sense that its like "this person is very interested in me, i can see and recognise that but theres so much cognitive dissonance in my brain right now between knowing that intrinsically and finding that hard to believe so i unintentionally play dumb because obviously i'm reading too much into things it cant be me they're interested in haha that'd crazy but they're being awfully touchy and flirty with me wow"
but also it takes two to tango and we have to acknowledge that and this is when i would love to bring up the ways in which this man decides is the best way to go about that because he is a catholic school girlie... there's so much hilarity to be had here especially because his flirting is very uh how you say... a little ass backwards if you will especially considering dynamics
"I make it a point to keep the door closed when we're alone in a room together! That's basically a clear invitation that I'm down to fuck!!! Im basically asking to be ragdolled on his knot!!!"
and Benny just pinches the bridge of his nose like "I don't know how to explain to you in a way you'll understand that not everyone went to Catholic school."
But saying that Sasha does side-eye the door knob heavily when Maffhew goes over to close it the first time and he starts sweating like he just got dragged into a game of 7 Minutes in Heaven he did not sign up for and he's 13 again and oh god he got paired with a really cute girl, and he hasn't even had his first real kiss yet and-
And then absolutely nothing happens because Maffhew is just waiting with a polite expectant smile (because his work here is done, he did the heavy lifting know it's Sasha's turn) and this is when Sasha's dynamic classes training kicks in and he basically scolds himself for even assuming in the first place because this is clearly a show of trust (correct) not an invitation for extra circular activities (incorrect buzzer noise) and it basically becomes "This Omega really trusts me, I'm honoured especially as Pack Leader that I'm able to be so accepted into such a private space with the inherent knowledge that I will not encroach their boundaries whatsoever because consent is verbal, this is not in any way an invitation to take advantage of them this is deep platonic trust I will guard with my life :]"
and if you listen closely you can hear the lovely sounds of Maffhew bashing his head into a wall about how much of a gentleman Sasha is but also COME ONNNNNN... you know... once Maffhew realises what's happening which (looks at my watch) is not due for another few months really
Battle of wills: unstoppable force (maffhews catholic school understanding of dynamic interactions) vs immovable object (overseas alpha cotillion classes)
And if you think it's an Oh! An overseas dynamic thing! It's not. The Euros are watching the horrible car crash in front of them and doing absolutely nothing about it because it's none of their business, but they will stare at it... maybe judge it a bit but definitely are observing from the tall grass.
and I'm also not saying that luosty lundy forsy and bobby have a current running bet of how long it'll take for maffhew to break sasha in but i'm also not not saying that... luosty goaded lundy in the midst of a gossip session ("It has to be 3 months, right?) forsy happened to be around so lundy turned to him for advice ("7 months.") and maybeeee bobby overheard from all the way over from his stall and puts in his two cents for what it's worth ("6. Captain nice but not that nice. Very impatient." "So 3!" "No. Impatience makes him double the time, and wait longer. 6 months.") (lundy finally settles on a good 5 months because he's indecisive)
And Sasha does eventually pick up everything maffhew is throwing down... eventually... and when he does it becomes more so I want to court this omega the way they deserve I will take this slow and romance them sweetly :) *smash cut to maffhew caterwauling like a cat in heat*
but also once again its not like maffhew is helping sasha in any way this is idiot4idiot and benny would like to enjoy the car crash with the euros but unfortunately that's his soulmate, thats his bestie, his littermate from birth who has been weaned on the same teat as they climbed over each other to get to it, the first girl you kissed in your childhood bedroom because somehow you started play fighting on the bed because she was like i could totally pin you down easy and then she does and you always noticed how beautiful she was but shes even more gorgeous when she's pinning your wrists to your hannnah montana duvet you promised yourself youd changed out before she came over but you forget and well she teased you about it and you cant help but giggle about how perfect this all is and it seems that the natural conclusion to this is to taste the strawberry lipgloss of her lips because whats a kiss between besties huh its tacky and sticky and it tastes like summer and just other apt metaphors to put here about the inherent -isms of their relationship that i nearly cant put to words properly other than girls having fun (they are fucking)
and well anyways benny is watching and he has a lot of things to say about how its been proceeding so far
"You should really use your words."
"I am!"
"Right because smelling like a fucking perfume shop in the middle of October is using your words."
"This usually works with most Alphas okay!"
"Sasha isn't most Alphas."
"Tell me about it." Matthew grouses before he peeks over to Sam, looking up from beneath his eyelashes—the exact way he knows both endears him to Sam but also absolutely miffs him all the same, "Worked on you, didn't it?"
"Oh, is that what we're doing right now? We're calling getting a lapful of a preening O in preheat in the middle of a roadie a normal way to go about these things."
"It worked didn't it?" Matthew reiterates.
"It would work better if you use—"
"Okay! Alright!! I get it!!!" He does not.
like benny here is unfortunately an active listening participant in the going ons of the fuckery if not because hes involved by proxy because of maffhew because who else will hold his hair back as he calls him a dumb bitch you know
#ask#i dont think we nearly take enough advantage of maffhew going to a catholic prepatory school#my friend who went to catholic schooling his whole life until highschool (where we met) dropped the bombshell of the door thing on me#to which i went you have to be fucking with me that cant be real and then i was like well i guess its good we're both boys then-#and then he goes oh my mom knows im queer the rule applies to boys too#and i just nervously looked over to the door knob like well uh maybe we should open the door? i dont want your mom to be mad-#and he was like oh shes convinced we've been fucking since we met so this is allowed youre the only boy she lets do this (the door thing)#a couple of years later when he moved out i found out friends weren't allowed over if he was alone in the house but i was the only exceptio#and i felt like the equivalent of a roving tomcat who keeps wandering into the gardens and got the neighbours cat daisy pregnant#i dont think i could ever look that woman in the eye after all that#this is all to say catholic schooling does things to you man#anyways i do have to reiterate every kitty is fucking each other on a normal basis and in an abo au it gets even worse#making our whorehouse a whorehome#ive always said this but flirting with a virgo is like flirting with a brickwall#actually thatd be an insult to the brickwall because at least the brickwall would give you something to work with#the humble virgo looks you in the eyes before they crush your ego with a single word and youre like thank you mistress may i have another#i feel for maffhew i really do#theres just so many funny ways this just goes terribly wrong because both maffhew and sasha are inherently messy people#matthew and sasha on a team outing sat next to each other in a booth and matthew gets a little tipsy and starts rubbing his cheek#on sashas shoulder and sasha is just looking over to benny like please. help. and benny just snorts and blatantly ignores#him as he continues to sip on his beer and sasha just turns to ekky and silently pleads with his eyes. PLEASE. HELP.#ekky huffs and looks away very much not thrilled about being involved in any form whatsoever and hes not gonna change his mind about this#*5 minutes later* and ekky finds himself switching spots with sasha with a cuddly maffhew on his arm and he's a little disgruntled about it#but its very hard to stay upset when maffhew keeps mumbling about how nice he smells and keeps trying to scent him#all over like he has any right to lay a claim when hes been in the pack for such a short time#and yeah okay maybe he preens a little bit at the compliment like just a little#and maybe he does like being treated like a glorified scratching post but matthew doesnt need to know that (matthew knows that)#well anyways
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floorpancakes ¡ 1 year ago
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this is so funny bitch he's paying you a compliment!!! hes openly being like wow ur so good at this stop shouting and sit the fuck down 😭😭😭😭
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alounuitte ¡ 1 year ago
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the other day my lesbian girlfriend told me, in response to a headmate who shall not be named being vain as fuck, “well at least he has good taste in men”
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loveindefinitely ¡ 11 months ago
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task force 141 with a controversially young civilian girlfriend.
-> mentions of large age-gaps, referenced sexual content, alcohol use. afab!fem!reader. minor dubcon (everyone's drunk.)
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thinking that you're studying in uni. working on the side to try and afford rent and, if you're lucky, some noodles every other night. you don't really get seen compared to your friends, who go out clubbing and spend their spare time on dating apps.
one time, your friend drags you to a bar. not usually your scene, considering its clientele is more for tradies, and military-type men. not like the stuck-up blue collar boys at your uni.
cue you getting drunk off your ass, barely even standing, when you bump into one johhny mactavish.
he holds your elbows, your chest crashing into his. gentle with it, too -- kind and sweet and grounding.
"y'alright, lass?" he asks, a small smirk on his face, eyes darting across your frame greedily. he, in all fairness, looks nearly as drunk as you. he stumbles a little with your weight.
you giggle, tilting your head to look at him. say something stupid like, "you don't look like a student."
his brows raise, his dimples deepen. "aye, very smart, hen."
you preen with the compliment, a cheesy grin stuck to your face. you make no move to stand up and leave. you think your friend just left with a guy anyways.
johnny moves you, muscled arm around your waist as he takes you to a booth.
three other men sit in it, only one looking somewhere in a ten-year age bracket to you. they're all impossibly large, filling out the space with ease. your stomach swoops, but you easily blame the alcohol.
manoeuvring you so you sit in his lap, johnny's hand is a comforting weight on your waist. he huffs a laugh.
"didn't realise we were goin' for jailbait, soap," the youngest one chimes, dark features shining in the pub's dim light. his eyes trail your frame silkily.
you can't stop the roll of your eyes -- your inhibitions have made you senseless. "'m not, 'm completely," you drag out the syllables, "legal."
a hand on your thigh makes you jolt, and when you look over, a blonde man with a black medical mask raises an unimpressed brow. "got a problem, kid?"
you shoot him a weak glare. "not a kid. weirdo."
the arm around your waist tightens, as does the weirdo's hand encompassing your thigh.
"not scared of anythin', are you darl'?" the final man in the booth asks, hands folded together where they rest at the table. he looks at least double your age, and that simple fact along with his drawling words has your core tightening.
"what's there to be scared of?" you ask, stupidly. your head tilts to the side, unknowingly moving to rest on johnny's shoulder. he doesn't comment.
"miss bein' young and drunk," gaz sighs, hand softly gripping the gin sat on the table in front of him.
"you look young," your brows furrow, not understanding. how old could he really be, to act so nostalgic of your current predicament? "how old are you guys?"
it's an embarrassing question -- makes you feel like a child all over again. but your interest is quickly peaking, and your need for answers overpowers your need for decorum.
johnny's the one to answer, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers.
"gaz, the pretty one over there, he's twenty-eight," he murmurs, heat stirring low in your gut as you nod mindlessly, meeting gaz's eyes.
johnny stokes his thumb over the skin of your hip, and you curl into him further -- stranger be damned.
"i'm thirty," he hums, and god, he sounds so fucking sensual you're about to melt into his arms. if you aren't already.
"the guy in the mask?" said man's hand tightens impossibly against your skin, fingers just shy of grazing your aching pussy, "he's thirty-seven. got a lot of experience, aye?"
you shudder.
"what about you?" you end up voicing, shyly meeting the last man's gaze. he takes a slow sip of his whiskey.
he leans back into the cushion, eyeing you carefully.
"forty-three."
your thighs squeeze together, and fuck, if that's not a turn-on. no matter how unsafe you should feel, surrounded by four military-grade, older men, it only manages to have you wet beyond belief.
all you can manage is one question.
"take me home?"
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goldsainz ¡ 25 days ago
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# DREW STARKEY — ACTORS ON ACTORS !
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MASTERLIST !
001. SUMMARY !
✯ drew and you participate in variety’s “actors on actors” series.
002. WARNINGS !
✯ cursing, talking about nude scenes, probably inaccurate acting experiences.
003. NOTE !
✯ sorry to all the actors i stole roles from😭 also zendaya is used as a face claim for the social media but the writing is inclusive and has no descriptors of physical appearance… or at least i hope so.
word count : 5,4k (chat i got carried away)
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The cozy studio was bathed in warm light, designed almost as if to feel like a welcoming living room. Two plush chairs faced each other, separated by a low coffee table adorned with a few carefully placed books and a small vase of fresh flowers. Everything about the space was crafted to exude intimacy and warmth, inviting open conversation.
Drew Starkey entered the room first, his usual calm confidence mingled with a tinge of nervous energy. He smoothed his shirt absentmindedly and scanned the setup, trying to ground himself in the moment. He was used to being in front of cameras, but this felt different. This wasn’t just about promoting a project or answering rapid-fire questions on a press junket. This was you.
“Hello,” Drew started, a smile gracing his features as he took in the fact that he was sitting right in front of his number one celebrity crush. His hand hovered awkwardly in a small wave, as if he couldn’t believe this was real.
“Hi,” you said back, a giggle falling past your lips when you noticed his sheepish look. “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too,” he said, his voice just a little higher than usual. Drew cleared his throat, laughing at himself, which made you laugh too. “Sorry, I’m… a little nervous.”
“Oh, don’t be,” you reassured him with a warm smile. “I promise, I don’t bite.”
“Good to know.” He chuckled, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “How are you doing?”
“I’m great, thank you. What about you?”
“Pretty good, can’t complain.” A laugh bubbled out of him, and subsequently, you. The way he rubbed the back of his neck made you think he was still pinching himself that this was happening.
The cameras rolled, capturing the easy charm and immediate chemistry between the two of you. 
Drew’s grin widened as he began. “First of all, let me just say—I’m completely starstruck right now. I mean, the way you completely own every role you take on... it’s incredible.”
Your eyes widened in surprise, a bashful laugh escaping as you waved off the compliment. “Oh, stop it. You’re making me blush!”
“I’m serious,” he pressed, leaning forward slightly. “You’re like… the blueprint. If I ever get even halfway to where you are, I’ll consider myself lucky.”
“Well, now you’re just flattering me,” you said, your voice teasing but your cheeks undeniably warm. “But thank you, that’s so sweet. And honestly, you’re being way too hard on yourself. You’re incredible in Queer. You’ve got this natural charm that just lights up the screen.”
“Natural charm, huh?” He smirked, pretending to preen, which made you laugh again. “I’ll take that.”
“Good,” you replied, smiling. “You should, because it’s true.”
Drew’s gaze softened, the teasing giving way to something more earnest. “That means a lot, really. Especially coming from you. You’re like… Hollywood royalty to many.”
You tilted your head, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “To many, huh? And are you part of this many?”
Drew’s eyes widened, and he laughed, a little caught off guard. “Oh, absolutely. I’ve got a lifetime membership to the fan club.”
“Good to know,” you teased, crossing your legs and leaning back in your chair with an air of mock superiority. “I’ll have to start charging you membership fees.”
“Totally worth it,” he shot back, his grin widening.
“Well, thank you,” you said with a soft laugh, “So, we’ve both got some things in common, which I think is pretty cool.”
“Like working with Daniel Craig?” he asked.
“Yes! Honestly, I still reminisce about our time on set… he’s genuinely incredible, isn’t he?”
“He is, yeah. I found myself just admiring him and sort of forgetting I had to act too. He’s just… he’s on another level, for sure.”
“Daniel’s a master of his craft… Most of my scenes as Paloma in No Time To Die were with him, and at first I was so nervous because, like, what if I messed up in front of the Daniel Craig?” Drew let out a laugh at your words, and you couldn’t help but laugh too. “But when he noticed I was nervous he reassured me that it was all good. He’s just the best.”
“You’ve worked with so many high-profile actors.” You nod slightly at his words, as if it were the most common thing in the world. “Are you always nervous when meeting them, or was it just a Daniel thing?”
“It wasn’t just Daniel, no, but I think it depends. For example, when I did Oppenheimer with Cillian Murphy, for some reason I felt more relaxed… even though I had some nude scenes with him.”
“Nude scenes just make you connect, don’t they?” he joked, leaning back with a sly grin.
“They do, actually,” you replied, leaning into the banter. “You’d think they’d be worse, but honestly, with the amount of seriousness and concentration they take, it’s like you don’t have time to be nervous.”
“You clearly pulled it off flawlessly,” Drew said with mock solemnity. 
“You did too in Queer.” You compliment him, “I watched it a few days ago, and the chemistry you had with Daniel was just off the charts.”
Drew’s face lit up, a mix of pride and bashfulness crossing his features. “Daniel’s an amazing scene partner. He really made it easy for me to tap into everything.”
“Well, it shows,” you said. “It was such a raw and beautiful performance. I might’ve shed a tear or two.”
“Okay, now you’re just trying to make me blush,” Drew teased, pointing at you with a playful squint. “But seriously, that means a lot coming from you.”
“Hey, give credit where it’s due,” you shot back with a grin. “You’ve got this way of making everything feel so real. Like when you’re in pain, we’re in pain. When you’re in love, we’re falling right alongside you.”
“Wow,” he said, shaking his head as if to clear it. “I don’t know what to do with all these compliments. This is the best therapy session I’ve ever had.”
You laughed, crossing your legs and leaning forward slightly. “Well, I’m glad I could help. But now I’m curious—how did you prepare for a role like that? I mean, it’s so emotionally intense, no?.”
“It was a lot of journaling, a lot of talking with Luca about backstory and motivations,” Drew explained, his tone more thoughtful. “And honestly, I kind of drew from real-life experiences. Not the exact ones, obviously, but just feelings of vulnerability and… wanting to be understood.”
“That’s beautiful,” you said softly, your smile turning tender. “It’s amazing how much of ourselves we pour into these characters.”
“Exactly,” Drew agreed. “And sometimes it’s terrifying, but when it resonates with people, it feels worth it.”
“It definitely resonated with me,” you assured him. “And I’m sure with countless others too.”
“That’s really nice to hear,” he said with a soft smile.
“How was it for you to work with Luca? Because I remember it being one of the highlights of my career.”
Drew’s eyes lit up at the mention of Luca Guadagnino, and he leaned forward slightly, as if the memory itself was a magnet pulling him closer. “Oh, working with Luca was… incredible,” he said, his voice laced with awe. “He’s got this way of creating such a safe, open space on set. It’s almost like he’s not just directing—he’s inviting you into this world he’s building in his head.”
You nodded eagerly, your own memories of working with Luca bringing a nostalgic smile to your face. “I know exactly what you mean. He makes it feel like you’re collaborating on this deeply personal piece of art, rather than just executing someone else’s vision.”
“Exactly!” Drew said, gesturing animatedly. “And he has this way of pulling things out of you that you didn’t even know you had. Like, he’ll ask you one simple question, and suddenly you’re diving into this emotional rabbit hole.”
You laughed, tilting your head in agreement. “He asked me once, ‘What would this character, Maren in my case, dream about?’ and it completely changed how I approached the next scene.”
Drew’s mouth dropped open in mock surprise. “He asked me the exact same question!”
“No way!” you exclaimed, your laughter spilling out in disbelief. “I love that! It’s honestly such a deceptively simple question, but it opens up so many layers.”
“It really does,” Drew said, chuckling. “And then you’re sitting there like, ‘Okay, now I have to rethink everything I thought I knew about this character.’”
“It’s kind of genius, though,” you added. “He makes you work harder, but not in a way that feels forced. It’s like… he trusts you to figure it out, but he gives you these breadcrumbs to follow.”
“Exactly,” Drew said again, his tone growing softer. “I think that’s why his films feel so intimate, he gets the human part so right.”
You smiled, letting his words settle in the air for a moment. “I think that’s what makes working with him feel like such a privilege. It’s not just about telling a story—it’s about feeling it.”
Drew nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “And those are the moments that stick with you, you know? The ones where you felt something real, even if it was just for a moment.”
“Completely,” you agreed, your voice soft with sincerity. “Those moments are why we do this.”
For a moment, the two of you sat in companionable silence, the weight of the conversation settling in the cozy studio. Then, Drew broke the quiet with a grin. “Okay, but did Luca make you do those impromptu rehearsals at, like, the crack of dawn?”
“Oh my God, yes!” you burst out, your eyes widening. “I’d just roll out of bed with zero coffee and somehow be expected to pour my soul into a scene.”
Drew laughed, his face lighting up. “Right? It’s like, ‘Good morning, here’s your emotional breakdown for the day.’”
You laughed along with him, the shared experience adding another thread to the easy camaraderie forming between you. “But honestly, I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.”
“Same,” Drew said, his expression softening again. “For Luca? Anytime.”
“Absolutely,” you agreed, your eyes locking with his for a moment before the warmth of the studio light reminded you both that the cameras were still rolling.
Drew shifted in his seat slightly, his expression thoughtful. “You know, it’s kind of wild—hearing you talk about all these incredible experiences. You’ve been doing this for so long, and yet it’s like you’re just getting started.”
You tilted your head with a small smile. “That’s sweet of you to say. But yeah, I guess I have been in this industry for most of my life. It’s all I’ve ever really known.”
Drew’s eyebrows lifted. “That’s crazy to think about. I didn’t even consider acting until after college. You must’ve been, what, ten? Eleven?”
“Eight, actually,” you corrected with a chuckle. “My first role was in this little indie film. I was basically just the kid who ran around in the background eating ice cream, but I thought it was the coolest thing ever.”
He laughed, clearly amused. “That’s adorable. And now you’re the Hollywood It Girl. No big deal.”
You rolled your eyes playfully, your laughter light. “Oh, stop it. But yeah, it’s been a journey. Growing up on sets definitely shaped me, for better or worse. Sometimes I wonder what it would’ve been like to have a more ‘normal’ childhood.”
Drew’s smile softened. “That must’ve been such a whirlwind. I can’t even imagine starting that young. I didn’t even think about acting seriously until high school.”
“Oh, I’ve read about that!” You said, your voice lighting up. “You were all about sports growing up, right?”
“Yeah,” Drew admitted with a chuckle. “I was your typical small-town kid—baseball, basketball, you name it. I was convinced I was going to go pro in something, but clearly, that didn’t pan out.”
“Well, I think acting suits you pretty well.” 
“Thank you,” he says with a soft laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “But yeah, the real shift happened in high school when I joined a drama class. It was all Samuel Beckett and absurdist plays, which at the time I thought was the coolest thing ever.”
You leaned forward, intrigued. “So that’s what pulled you in? Drama class?”
“Pretty much,” he said with a nod. “And then I went to Western Carolina for college. I double-majored in English and theater, thinking, ‘If this acting thing doesn’t work out, I’ll at least have a backup plan.’”
“That’s so realistic of you,” you said with a laugh. “Meanwhile, I was ten, telling anyone who’d listen that I was going to win an Oscar one day.”
“And look at you now,” Drew said, gesturing to you with an almost reverent smile. “You made it happen.”
You chuckled, a bit flustered by his admiration. “Well, not quite, just an Oscar nominee for now. But thank you. You know, I think your journey’s pretty incredible too. A double major? That’s no joke. And starting later in the game like you did… it must have felt like a slow burn, but it’s clearly paid off.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Drew said thoughtfully. “It was definitely a slower burn for me. I didn’t land my first real gig until I’d been auditioning for what felt like forever.”
“I think that makes your journey even more special,” you said, your tone sincere. “You came into it with all this life experience and maturity. It shows in your work, you know? There’s this depth to your performances that’s just… rare.”
Drew’s ears turned a little pink, and he laughed softly, glancing down at his hands. “Wow, you’re gonna make me blush over here.”
“Good,” you said with a teasing smile. “It’s only fair after all the compliments you’ve been throwing my way.”
He looked up, his grin sheepish but warm. “Touché. But seriously, hearing that from someone like you—someone who’s been at this for so long and is so insanely talented—it means a lot.”
“Well,” you replied with a playful tilt of your head, “I think it’s safe to say we’re officially mutual fans.”
Drew laughed at that, the sound easy and genuine. “I can live with that.”
The conversation shifted into more comfortable territory as the two of you shared experiences, trading stories about acting and the film industry. Drew, now feeling at ease, leaned forward with renewed interest.
“You know,” he began, a thoughtful expression crossing his face, “I've been thinking about how different TV shows and movies are, especially when it comes to the pacing and character development. Like, in a show, we have to maintain this ongoing energy for the characters over multiple seasons. But with movies, it’s a totally different vibe, right?”
You nodded, understanding immediately where he was going. “It’s definitely a huge shift. With TV, you’re given time to build on a character slowly. Every episode is another chapter, so you can explore new facets of them and keep the audience hooked for longer periods of time. But movies, they’re this intense sprint. You have to get everything across in just two hours or so, but in a way that feels just as layered and satisfying.”
Drew's eyes lit up with excitement, clearly passionate about the topic. "Exactly! You have to balance the action and suspense while still giving the characters these moments of vulnerability. Over multiple seasons, you can really let them grow and change. It's like a slow burn. But when you're doing a movie, you don’t have the luxury of that buildup. It has to be this concentrated emotional punch right from the start.”
“That’s one of the biggest challenges of film, for sure," you agreed. "In a film, every second counts. You can’t afford to waste a moment. But I think what’s also interesting is how both mediums can explore a character’s journey from different angles. TV shows can dive into their backstory in more detail, but movies... they really need to hit those emotional beats and leave an impact without dragging it out."
Drew smiled, clearly engaged in the discussion. “In TV shows you need that perfect balance of suspense, character development, and personal growth. And then, at the end of the season, you drop a huge bombshell that leaves people wanting more.”
You laughed, raising an eyebrow playfully. “Sounds like you’ve been doing some serious thinking about it. What’s the secret to keeping the audience hooked without losing the depth of your character?”
He leaned back, his expression thoughtful. “Well, I think it’s about letting the characters evolve with the story. You need to make sure the audience sees the human side of your character, even when they're in these crazy situations. It’s what keeps people invested in the long run.”
“You’ve really got the process figured out,” you said with a smile. “But you’re right—it’s a different rhythm for TV. With a movie, you get to go deep quickly, but with a show, you have to keep it dynamic and varied. And let’s not forget, you need that cliffhanger at the end to make people binge-watch the next season.”
Drew’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “You’re giving away all the secrets! Next thing you know, people will be expecting a cliffhanger every time they watch a movie."
“Well, movies and TV are both art, but they demand different approaches,” you said, “and you’re doing an amazing job balancing both. I’m honestly so excited to see where your career goes next. Both worlds are lucky to have you.”
He chuckled softly, clearly humbled. “Thanks. I think I’m just lucky to be a part of both. I mean, who wouldn’t want to be in a show that gets people talking for days?”
“Right? You’ve got Outer Banks, which has such a dedicated fanbase, and then movies like Queer that touch people in such a different way. It’s amazing to watch your versatility.”
He leaned in slightly, a playful glint in his eyes. “I’m just trying to keep up with you. Honestly, your transition from action to more emotional roles is inspiring. I hope I can pull off something even close to what you’ve done with your career.”
Your smile softened, your voice sincere. “Well, you’re already doing it, Drew. You’re already there. It’s not just about the roles—it’s about the heart you put into them. And you’ve definitely got that.”
Drew’s smile faltered for a moment, the weight of your words sinking in. His gaze softened, as if he were truly reflecting on what you’d said. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms but keeping his eyes on you, his expression thoughtful.
“It's crazy, isn't it?” He began, his voice a little quieter now, “The idea of giving so much of yourself to something that feels so... intimate. But when it works, when the audience feels it too, there's nothing like it.”
“Exactly,” you agreed, your voice a little quieter now. “That's the real magic, when the audience feels like they know the characters, like they're right there with them. It’s not about the plot twists or the fancy sets—it’s about the emotions that we build and share with them.”
Drew nodded thoughtfully, his gaze drifting away for a moment before returning to you. “Speaking of emotions, I just saw your new movie, We Live In Time,” he said, his voice taking on a softer tone. “It’s one of those films that stays with you, you know? It’s raw in a way that makes you uncomfortable, but it’s also beautiful. How did you tap into that for Almut?”
Your expression softened as you thought back on the experience. We Live In Time had been a journey—a raw, almost therapeutic one. “It was an emotional rollercoaster, honestly,” you said, leaning back slightly, letting the memory settle in. “I think the hardest part was showing that moment where her whole world shifts. It was such a raw, profound type of emotion I had to channel in order to do justice to the character and her experiences.”
Drew sat back, letting the weight of the conversation settle. “I think that's what makes your career so incredible. You never just play a character. You become them. And you take us with you. Every heartbreak, every triumph, every moment of doubt... we feel it all with you. That's what makes your work so powerful.”
You met his gaze, feeling the depth of the conversation linger between you both. “It’s all about connection, right? Connecting with the character, with the audience, and with the emotions that we all share as humans. Because at the end of the day, we’re all just trying to make sense of time, love, and the moments we get.”
Drew smiled, his expression genuine and soft. “Well, you’ve definitely made sense of it for me. We Live In Time—it’s not just a movie. It’s a reminder to cherish what we have. And that, in itself, is something special.”
You smiled back, your heart full as you let the words sink in. “Thank you, Drew. That’s really sweet of you.”
You both shared a comfortable silence for a moment, before Drew broke it with a playful grin. “You know, it’s clear you’ve mastered the art of vulnerability on screen, but I can’t help but wonder—did you ever have moments on set where it was just... impossible to take things seriously?”
You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Oh, absolutely. In fact, as a kid, it was all impossible to be serious,” you admitted, shaking your head at the memory. “I remember this one time during a scene on set when I was probably around 9 or 10. We were supposed to be doing this emotional scene, and I had to cry on cue. But instead of crying, I couldn’t stop giggling. It was a dramatic moment, and my co-star was all serious and trying to get through the scene, but I just... lost it.”
Drew raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Giggling during a dramatic scene? What happened?”
“Well, my director, bless her heart, kept trying to give me these 'serious actor' looks. She was this no-nonsense kind of woman, and she had this way of narrowing her eyes when things weren’t going well. I tried my best to hold it together, but then my co-star—who was way too good at being serious—looked at me and just gave this super intense stare, and that was it. I burst out laughing right in the middle of the take.”
Drew chuckled, shaking his head. “I can just picture that. You were probably trying to hold it together, but it must have been so hard with all that tension in the air.”
“I swear, the more I tried not to laugh, the harder it became,” you continued, grinning at the memory. “It was one of those moments where you’re like, 'Why am I even here? I can’t do this.' But somehow, I got through it. The director had to take a deep breath, and we did a few more takes. Eventually, we got it done, but I think we all were on the verge of cracking up the whole time.”
Drew let out a laugh, clearly imagining the scene. “I can’t blame you. I feel like as a kid, you have no filter. Everything feels like a joke, and it’s so hard to be serious when everyone else is trying so hard.”
“You have no idea,” you said, your voice still light. “There were so many times I’d be doing a serious scene, and I’d start thinking about something random, like a certain meme or a funny sound someone made on set—and then, bam, it was game over. I’d be holding in a laugh like my life depended on it.”
Drew smirked, leaning in a little. “I totally feel that. I mean, as an adult, I still have moments where I struggle to keep a straight face. I once had a scene where I was supposed to be super intense, but the prop guy was standing just out of frame, and he made this ridiculous face at me—completely threw me off. I couldn’t stop laughing, and it ended up taking hours to finish the scene because we kept cracking up. Honestly, I think the crew started to get annoyed with us after a while.”
“See?” you said with a grin. “It never really changes. Truthfully, the older you get, the harder it becomes to hold it in. But then you look at the footage and realize how much fun you actually had, and that makes it all worth it.”
Drew nodded thoughtfully, a playful twinkle in his eyes. “Yeah, that’s the thing. Sometimes it’s the moments you didn’t plan for that end up being the most memorable. Like when you have a laugh on set, and suddenly you feel closer to everyone, even though you’re supposed to be in character.��
“Exactly,” you said, your smile widening. “There’s something so beautiful about those unscripted moments. It reminds you that acting is, at its core, about connecting—whether that’s through laughter or the heavy stuff. And even though I had my fair share of giggling fits as a kid, I think those moments taught me just as much as the serious ones. Maybe more.”
Drew leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “It's funny how those little moments—like a laugh in the middle of a serious scene—can end up being the ones you remember the most. I think those are the ones that make the work feel real, you know?”
You smiled, your gaze distant as you reflected on the years of working on sets. “I know exactly what you mean.”
“Yeah, like those unscripted moments,” Drew added, his voice quieter now, as if the weight of the sentiment lingered in the air. “They give the performance an authenticity that you can’t get from just following the script to a tee.”
You nodded, the words hanging between you like a shared understanding. “Exactly. And as a kid, I was so focused on getting it ‘right’—on being perfect—that I missed the beauty of just being in the moment. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized how important it is to let go of the idea of perfection. It's in those mistakes, the wrong takes, the bloopers—that's where you find the truth.”
Drew's expression softened, his eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that made your chest tighten. “I think it’s key not to be afraid to show the mess, the imperfect parts of a character, because that’s what makes them human.”
A small chuckle escaped you, the warmth of the moment filling the studio. “Right? We’re all just a little bit of a mess, trying to figure it out, but that’s what makes the journey worth it. We’re constantly learning, constantly evolving, and we bring that to our work. The growth, the mistakes—it all shapes us.”
Drew nodded, his gaze shifting as if reflecting on those same ideas. “Yeah, and the growth never stops, does it? Just when you think you’ve figured it out, something new happens, and it challenges you again.”
“That's the beauty of it,” you said, your voice quieter now, the bond between you both deepening. “The challenge is what keeps it exciting, keeps you moving forward.”
Drew grinned, a playful spark lighting his eyes once more. “Well, I guess we’re both lifelong students of this thing called acting, huh?”
“Absolutely,” you said with a laugh, the lightness returning. “And just like any good student, we’ll always be learning. Who knows, maybe we'll even get better at not laughing in the middle of dramatic scenes.”
Drew let out a hearty laugh, nodding enthusiastically. “I think that’s going to take years of practice, honestly.”
You both shared a moment of genuine laughter, the warmth of your conversation filling the space around you. You leaned back into the chairs, the laughter still lingering in the air, a sense of camaraderie that made the space between you feel comfortable and open. You continued sharing stories, moving seamlessly from one experience to the next.
The conversation began to slow, the easy flow of stories fading into a comfortable silence, as you both shared an unspoken understanding. The light laughter that had filled the room now felt like a warm, lingering hum between you.
Drew shifted slightly in his chair, his gaze turning toward you with a subtle, thoughtful expression. “You know,” he began, his voice softer now, “I really hope we get to work together sometime. I think it’d be incredible. It’s the kind of thing where I can already imagine what it’d be like. Just... easy, real. Like this.”
Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but you kept your composure, offering a smile that spoke volumes. “I’d love that. If you receive a call from your manager these days… maybe I had something to do with it, so be prepared.”
The air between you both was charged, the quiet intensity of the moment not lost on either of you. There was something unspoken, something deeper that neither of you addressed outright but that seemed to hang there all the same. The connection was undeniable, yet it lingered in the silence, unspoken, but clear.
Drew finally broke the spell with a playful grin, his eyes flicking back to yours. “Oh, I’ll be ready. Can’t wait to see what magic we create together.”
You returned his smile, your heart racing ever so slightly, though you kept it hidden behind the ease of your words. “I’m sure it’ll be something incredible.”
As the interview wrapped up, there was a lingering sense of something unspoken between you both, an attraction that neither of you had to mention but was so clearly felt. The kind of connection that could only be hinted at, but would never truly fade. It was the kind of moment that would stay with both of you long after the cameras stopped rolling.
“Thank you,” you said softly as the final moments of the interview started to loom, your voice carrying a depth that reflected everything unsaid between you. “This has been amazing. Honestly, it feels like we’ve been talking for hours, and yet it still doesn’t feel like enough.”
He nodded, his expression soft but genuine. “I feel the same way. This has been one of the most honest and open conversations I’ve had in a long time.”
The crew began to pack up, signaling that the interview was at its end, but neither of you seemed in any hurry to break the moment. The usual chatter and movement around you felt distant, as if the two of you were in your own world for just a little longer.
“You know,” Drew said, his voice quieter now, a hint of sincerity threading through, “I think we make a pretty good team even just sitting here talking. Imagine what we could do with a whole script.”
Your smile softened, and you nodded, the words feeling right, but the undertone of something more—something unsaid—hung in the air. “Yeah, I think we’d be unstoppable.”
The moment stretched between you both, filled with the kind of comfortable tension that comes when you realize you’ve shared something real. Something that felt like it could turn into something more.
You both stood up, a final, lingering moment before the usual goodbye. Drew extended a hand, his gaze holding yours a beat longer than necessary.
“Take care, okay?” he said, his voice warm, like the words carried more than just a polite farewell.
You shook his hand, the warmth of his touch lingering just a moment longer than expected. “You too, Drew,” you replied, your voice soft yet carrying an undercurrent of meaning that mirrored his own.
As you turned to gather your things, you couldn’t help but glance back over your shoulder. He was still standing there, watching you with that same thoughtful expression, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. The faintest smile curved his lips, as if he were replaying the conversation in his mind.
“See you around,” he called out, the words simple but loaded with promise.
“Yeah,” you said, meeting his gaze one last time. “See you around.”
Walking away, you felt a peculiar lightness, as though something intangible had shifted, leaving you both exhilarated and curious. It wasn’t every day you met someone who made you feel seen in such a profound way, and as you left the studio, you found yourself smiling, a quiet hope blooming in your chest.
And for a fleeting second, you allowed yourself to wonder what could come next.
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2K notes ¡ View notes
meowzfordayz ¡ 1 year ago
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hashira accidentally touch your chest
Author’s Note: pls and ty enjoy this tidbit of crack-fluff. 😆💖
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hashira accidentally touch your chest
Hashira x Reader
Word Count: ~1,600
CW: explicit language, Fem!Reader, mild sexual content
Suggestion Fulfilled: Can we get all hashira accidently touch y/n's breast
~faqs~
Fyi, “chest” means boob. I was just worried Tumblr would block this post from tags if I included “boob” in the title lmao. 😉
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Shocked 😳😖
“I apologize, [y/n]-san, it won’t happen again!”
Gyomei’s nearly in tears, he feels so terribly 😞
“These things happen!” you promptly assure him, “Besides, you technically won the bout.”
No need to mention that he always wins when training together 🥲
“I cannot accept such a tainted victory.”
“Himejima-san, though I appreciate your concern and respect, there’s truly no issue.”
Meanwhile, Gyomei’s rethinking his entire Breathing Style to ensure he never accidentally touches anyone’s boob(s) again 💀 
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In cold disbelief 😐😐😐
If you don’t say anything, then he won’t say anything
Alternatively, if you do say something, then Obanai will immediately curl up into a ball and die
Spends the rest of his day recalling the fleeting warmth of your breast
He swears his hand doesn’t even get cold, so affected by the heat of your bosom
Your boob must be ✨magical✨
“Iguro-san,” you call out gently, noting his dazed stare, his dinner untouched while he sits crossed legged, “Is something on your mind?”
“No.” 😐😐😐
Well okay then 🙃
“About what happened earlier…”
🫨🫨🫨 <— Obanai is FREAKING OUT
“… Iguro-san, I didn’t mind.”
And then you stand up, take your dishes, and leave
WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT EVEN MEEEAAAN?!?!?!
Good luck finding Obanai tomorrow 🫡 (the poor man’s been pleasantly overwhelmed)
He’ll avoid you for eternity now 😌 (not really, but at least until he can breathe around you again)
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She giggles 🤭
Lol
“Oh my! [y/n]-san, I didn’t mean to touch you so intimately!” 😅
“No worries, it happens.”
Your face may or may not be burning up a storm, but that’s okay!
Mitsuri’s blushing too
A lot 😳
“I hope I didn’t hurt you?!”
Because like, What if I gripped too hard?! 😭
She’s well aware of her own strength
“You barely brushed me, Kanroji-san. I promise!”
Phew!
She grins, relief evident as she bumps her elbow against yours
“Don’t tell anyone, okay? I would be so embarrassed!!!”
“Kanroji-san, our secret is safe with me.”
I wish it would happen again… <— lowkey both of you thinking the same thing 🤪
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As a medical personnel (among other roles), Shinobu accidentally (or even on purpose, depending on where you’re wounded) touching your boob isn’t entirely unreasonable nor unrealistic
Obviously it would be nicer if she was caressing you out of love and affection 😔
And not methodically cleansing then bandaging claw marks that just so happened to cross over your chest 😒
“You should make a full recovery,” she’s all business, “The demon avoided your nipple and didn’t puncture deep enough to affect the functionality of your breast,” fortunately, you’re too exhausted to be embarrassed by her bluntness, “It has a nice shape. I’m glad you survived.”
EXCUSE ME WHAT?!?!?! 😃🫠
Now you’re kinda embarrassed
More so preening, really 🤭
It’s like when a doctor randomly compliments the rhythm of your heart or some other characteristic from a mainly professional POV, but you’re still caught off guard because who tf compliments someone’s kidneys or bowels movements or?????
In your pain hazed delusion, you briefly contemplate somehow getting your other boob injured too… gotta make sure you’re matching in (nice) shape, y’know? 😌
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Kyojuro can be discreet, albeit more so for your sake than his
“I APOLOGIZE! I DID NOT MEAN TO TOUCH YOUR BREAST!” <— how he could react 💀
“Pardon my slip, are you okay?” <— how he actually reacts, because he isn’t entirely lacking in social awareness and decorum 😆
“Oh,” you don’t mean to squeak, but it can’t be helped when the most handsome man you’ve ever known just casually grazed your boob, “I’m fine! Totally fine! Haha!” 🫨😵‍💫🫠
You’ve gotta be more convincing than that, or Kyojuro will never forgive himself 😕
He’s a lil oblivious when it comes to physical attraction
Not like, infantly so, but given this particular circumstance?
He doesn’t realize you’re flustered; he assumes you’re mortified 😖
“You sound decidedly less than fine.”
He’s softer now, worried about startling you 🥺
“I was surprised! But don’t worry! I’m not worried!”
Okaaay, but he’s worried 🥲
“Is there any way I could make amends for my indiscretion?”
Not only is he handsome, but he is such a gentleman 😭😍
“Rengoku-san, there are no amends to be made, I promise. I’m not mad, nor do I feel unhappy or unsafe. I forgive you.”
Your regaining of the ability to speak in complete sentences greatly reassures him 😮‍💨😁
“Ah. Well. I am grateful for your kindness and understanding. It will not happen again.”
…
…
Hold up 🧐
Why does she seem… she seems… disappointed? Should I have said it will happen again??
You’ve suddenly given Kyojuro something quite pleasant to ponder 🤔
After all, he isn’t entirely oblivious 😉
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“Are you going to apologize?” Sanemi demands
“For what?” you screech
“For touching my hand with your boob!”
Your eyes roll, “Oh fuck off!”
“I didn’t ask to touch you,” he grunts
“I wouldn’t have given you permission anyway,” you retort 😒
Arms crossing over his bare chest, Sanemi scoffs, “Well I didn’t give mine either!”
“You’re ridiculous. It was an accident.”
You seem genuinely pissed 😬
Sanemi rethinks his approach
“You know I’m joking, right?” 😅
“Nooo,” your sarcasm cuts deep, “I thought you were flirting.” 😐
Uh 😀
Well 😃
Shit 😄
“Fuck you!” 
When in doubt, curse ‘em out 💀
You scowl, confusion lingering as your blood boils, “Fuck you!”
“I said it first.” 🙄
You stalk away, fed up with his antics
#man child #sort of #romantically inept is more like it
As tends to happen with epiphanies, yours doesn’t hit until you’re almost asleep
“WAS THAT MOTHERFUCKER FLIRTING WITH ME???!” 😳🥴😭
Best believe Shinazugawa Sanemi is about to have a Lesson 101 in flirting asap 😤😎
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(assuming you’re older, like, mentor age to Muichiro)
Neither of you make a fuss about it
It’s like accidentally calling your teacher mom 😬
Or grabbing a random person’s hand in the supermarket thinking they’re your parent 🫣
Embarrassing, but not a huge deal — unless you make it one
There’re those three seconds of slow motion Uhh and What just happened and Oops 🫠
And then time speeds up to normal again, you have a quick conversation with your eyes (gosh forbid you speak and bring the unspoken into reality 💀), and it’s over
^^ Alternatively, if Muichiro initiates a conversation to clear the air, then you’re able to have a mature and concise chat that is respectfully and patiently resolved
Embarrassing/accidental encounters are part of growing up
As long as they can be navigated ~safely, there shouldn’t be any lasting harm
⚠️I also want to emphasize that I am talking solely on inarguably accidental/one time incidences⚠️
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Hehehe
Giyuu’s hand is stuck 🫣
Only for like, a fleeting second
But omg 😭
He was already embarrassed, and now he’s triply embarrassed 🫠🫠🫠
“... Tomioka-san?”
You won’t lie; you aren’t especially bothered 🤭
But it is a compromising position to be caught in; Giyuu lowkey crushing you, one of his palms clearly cupping your boob 😬
#wrestling #or something #so maybe this isn’t super realistic #forgive me
You’re about to repeat his name when he finally springs to life, immediately rolling off you, standing abruptly, about to literally sprint away
And then he remembers his manners 🙃
He offers you a hand
His other hand; his boob hand is currently tucked away in his haori
He’s never washing it again
#closet perv
“Thanks,” you smile faintly, accepting his assistance as you lift yourself from the ground
You hope he can’t hear your heartbeat 💓
He definitely can 😶
But can you hear his?
“I don’t think we should train together anymore.”
Giyuu is swift and harsh with his solutions
“Why?”
Your question comes out stiffer than intended
He hesitates, unable to interpret the fear in your tone — the longing
“I always beat you,” he explains lamely, “Don’t you get tired of losing?”
You scoff cheerfully, grinning now as you squeeze his hand
Fuck, we were still holding hands?! <— Giyuu is in shambles 😳
“I could never lose!” you declare, feelings brimming in your throat, spilling onto your tongue, “Not when I’m with you.”
Then we should absolutely stop training together would be the responsible reaction
Attachments are the most dangerous game for a Hashira to play 😕
Instead, Giyuu’s rendered speechless, unable to shake his hand from yours
“Well alright then,” he mutters, stomach churning as he narrowly avoids the warmth in your gaze
In fact, you swear he squeezes back 💓
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“EXCUSE ME! I HAVE A WIFE!” 😤😤😤
“You have three wives.” 🙄
Sputtering, Tengen shrieks, “I already have plenty of breasts to touch!” 
“Tengen,” you glare, not one to back down as you jab a finger into his own chest, “You touched my boob.” 😒
“AND I’M SORRY!” 😭
Much better 😌
“I don’t know what they see in you,” you scoff (you’re also lying, you can see plenty🤭), “They’re gorgeous… and you freak out when you accidentally touch a boob.” 💀
Tengen is 100% pouting now
“I don’t freak out when I touch their boobs,” he huffs
“Well aren’t they lucky.” 😐
“You could be lucky too!”
…
…
Tengen starts running 
You give chase
“DID YOU TALK TO THEM ABOUT THIS?” 
Tengen runs faster
“TENGEN!!!!!”
Tengen runs faster and faster
You give up
*insert gasping for air here*
“DO YOUR WIVES KNOW THEY’RE MARRIED TO A COWARD???!!!”
Oh well, you’ll have to visit their estate sometime this week 🙃
You’re sure to get an answer from Hina, Makio, and Suma ☺️
And you can’t wait to see more of Tengen 😏😋
Sorry, sometimes the horny just happens 🥴
5K notes ¡ View notes
nikovraskol ¡ 27 days ago
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firstly the way you write emotions is SO beautiful i literally feel everything you write you are so talented also i noticed u described bruce as ‘batman, bruce wayne, your father’ and i thought it was cool how it kinda represented the importance of each role to him like how being mcs father is last and then also how everyone reacts to mc’s actions in a different way, you’re so genius
i do love how mc just seems like she’s on the verge of a breakdown the whole time LOL i’d love to just see her burst into tears in front of everyone that’d be really funny
i love ur writing 🙏🙏 patiently awaiting the next chapter
ahahhafhi i was hoping someone would notice the batman, bruce wayne thing .. i was giggling so much writing it lmao ><
masterlist - crack baby
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honestly, yeah. i imagine (name) just being so confused and overwhelmed with everything going on... i mean they get transported back in time, and the only comfort they had (knowledge of the future) is ripped away because they missed breakfast -- except they don't know why!
just casually having a nice dinner with your family, all of them conversing with you and paying attention in an unfamiliar way.. like damn, a single threat to leave and they're eating out the palm of ur hands ! you're pissed, you're overwhelmed, frustrated!
but, was this all it took? you just had to gain some independance and they'd all turn their heads to look at you. what was all that suffering for then? why were you forced to console yourself, to hold yourself tight when you could've just .. gotten their affection?
and why do they give it now that you've moved on, now that you're no longer content sitting at their heels like a mutt. what egotistical jerks!
so as everyones casually eating you just start sobbing, like full on head-in-your-hands, everyone is immediatly taken aback.
"do you not like spaghetti?" dick asks, nervously rubbing your back as they all crowd around you, hovering around like flies. damn! can they leave you alone.
you proceed to cry harder, the spaghetti wasn't the damn problem! but you can't properly convey that as you're babbling like a damn child. then they have the absolute audacity to hug you.
bruce pulling you in, while dick soothes you and damian, tim and jason just hover around awkwardly, unsure on how to process your tears
"do you have an upset stomach?" damian asks, his voice blank, though you pick up on the lingering worry.
"don't ask that, but do you?" tim huffs, looking at you with nervousness.
you hate how they're treating you like a child, but a small, lonelier part of you is preening, the small child who used to beg for affection lavishing in the affection.
how confusing.
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everytime someone compliments my writing i get up and do 15 consecutive cartwheels i love yall sm
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theprongspotter ¡ 5 months ago
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Provide - Jegulus - @stag-microfic - Day 6 - 269 words
Regulus doesn’t expect to see a stag standing in the astronomy tower when he went to do his astronomy homework, but he’s not surprised. He just raises a brow as his lips twitch up into a smile. “Hey, Jamie.”
The stag grunts and gently nudges him with his antlers. Regulus laughs softly and just begins to get his work out. The stag, however is persistent, with jabs and bleats every few moments.
“James,” Regulus frowns, grabbing his inkwell before it can tip over. “You’re going to ruin my work.”
The stag transforms back into James, who sits down beside his boyfriend with a frown. “How’d you know it was me? Don’t you want me to provide an explanation?”
A smirk falls on Regulus’ lips. “You and your friends aren’t as secretive as you think. I saw you lot transform while I was collecting potion ingredients in the Forbidden Forest—including Remus, and he’s told me about his… situation. I know you lot are stupidly noble enough to become animagi for him. Besides, you kept asking me questions about animagi last year. Oh, and your friends call you ‘Prongs.’ So, yeah.” He shrugs, finally looking away from the parchment in front of him and over at James, who’s gaping. This eleicits a chuckle from Regulus.
After a few seconds, James seems to regain consciousness. “I should’ve known you’d figure it out. You’re bloody brilliant.”
“Thank you.” Regulus preens under the compliment. “Now, I’ve got to do my astronomy homework, so stop being distracting.”
James brows furrow. “I’m not even doing anything?”
“Exactly.” Regulus nods, looking back at his homework.
James smirks.
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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries ¡ 10 months ago
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It's a Match! || 141 x Reader
[Chapter 16] || [Chapter 18]
Pairing: Gaz x Reader x Ghost x Soap || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.7K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: we're getting there.
Gaz's outfit is 100% a rip off of this fanart by the lovely @temeyes.
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Chapter 17: Guard Dogs
You don’t exactly know what you did to deserve this.
You really don’t.
You went on Tinder one time. One night after work.
So why the fuck do you have three men lurking around you like guard dogs?
Ever since the Ethan incident last Friday, they’ve been taking turns going to pick you up at work and walking you home.
Monday - Kyle
Tuesday - Simon
Wednesday - Kyle
Thursday - Simon
It wouldn’t be so bizarre if it weren’t for the fact that people (especially your coworkers) stare when there’s suddenly men waiting for you after work… 
Especially when one of them is a 6ft4 man that’s built like a fridge, giving everyone copious amounts of side-eye as they walk out.
And then you wonder why they ask you get asked questions the next morning.
Today, Friday, you exit work to see not one, not two, but all three of them, standing shoulder-to-shoulder. They look frankly adorable, all beaming at you as you come out of work and preening themselves a bit.
Kyle’s on the far left, wearing a cream-colored hoodie with a blue flannel shirt atop, black cargo pants and white and black Air Jordans. The hoodie is pulled up over his hair and his hands are tucked into the pocket of his hoodie.
Simon’s next to him, in the center, wearing black boots, jeans and a black parka with an inner pollar layer that’s zipped up all the way, so as to cover his mouth, in lieu of his usual mask. His hair is sticking up all over and you just know he put hairgel on it. 
Johnny’s on Simon’s other side, the far right, and wearing a pair of distressed blue jeans, a shaggy burgundy Ramones t-shirt and an unzipped grey hoodie jacket. Just like Kyle, he’s also wearing some Nikes and they’re so pristine and clean you’d swear he’s gotten them from the box a minute ago.
“Hi…?” You said in surprise as you adjusted the sling of your laptop bag on your shoulder.
“Hey!” Johnny greeted you.
“Hi, lovie.” Kyle said with a beaming smile.
“Hi, sweetheart.” Simon said simply and nodded upwards at you.
“What are you… doing?” You trailed off as you came to stand in front of them, your eyes going back and forth between them.
“Couldn’t decide who should come get you. So we decided to both come” Simon told you sincerely. “And since the two of us were coming, Johnny wanted to tag along.” He added.
“Why are ye talking like I’m a puppy that couldn’t be left at home by myself?” Johnny said with raised brows.
“Because you were begging for us to take you with.” Kyle retorted from Simon’s other side.
“Go fuck yourselves.” Johnny added. “You look nice.” He complimented you with a boyish grin.
“In my work uniform?” You retorted as you looked at him with a playful look of disbelief.
“Aye.” He replied. “Always love seein’ someone all knackered and sweaty after work.” He admitted.
“Johnny are you flirting?” Simon asked and he gave Johnny a look that could kill someone.
“Aye.” Johnny replied with a mischievous look in his eyes and pursed his lips together. “Is that forbidden now?”
“Mate…” Kyle quipped, his tone a soft warning.
“What? They already got two blokes after them, can have another one.” Johnny remarked with the same casualty of someone saying they ‘might as well have another biscuit from the box’.
You blinked away the surprise at the flirting. It was still bizarre to have one man like Simon interested… And you felt overwhelmed to have Kyle on top of it… And now Johnny too?
“Okay, erm… So… let’s go?” You announced and turned to start marching up the street to work before anyone could say anything else.
The guys followed behind you wordlessly, in a formation lead by Simon… like you were a mother duck and they were your ducklings… Or, rather, like they were your pack of guar dogs.
-
You’re standing by the door of your kitchen feeling like a guest in your own flat. 
Kyle and Simon are cooking… without even being asked. You stopped by the shop and they immediately announced they’d cook for you and… now they are.
Johnny’s sitting at the dining table behind you, sprawled open and sipping a can of Monster he got himself at the shop when you were all there.
“Okay, what’s up with you?” You announced as you watched the two men move about your kitchen as they made your meal. Simon’s was first in charge of chopping and dicing things… and now he’s in charge of frying… something, while Kyle takes care of basically everything else.
“What do you mean, lovie?” Kyle asks as he turns to glance at you while stirring something.
“You all came to pick me up together… And now you’re cooking for me…” You trail off as your nails clink a bit against the glass of wine they poured you. “What’s going on?”
“You’re adorably annoying with how perceptive you are, you know that?” Simon asks as he glances back at you as well before plucking something out of the frying pan and to a dish on the side. The oil sizzles loudly when he puts something else down to fry.
“Thank you.” You say with a playfully smug tone as you shift around. “But you didn’t answer the question.” You remark.
“After dinner, alright?” He answers and Kyle makes some sounds of agreement.
“They want to be yer boyfriends, officially.” Johnny says behind you and it causes you to whip around to look at him… Which also made Kyle drop whatever he was holding, in shock.
“SOAP!” Both Simon and Kyle shout, scolding the Scot who’s sitting at the table with a broad grin on his lips.
“You… You do?” You ask as you turn to look at them, mouth parted in surprise.
“Yeah...” Kyle replies as he looks at you. 
Simon simply nods and turns away to focus on the food he’s frying.
“I… I’m honored…” You admit and feel your cheeks warming up so bright you fear you’ll start sweating. “I…”
“I’d like a shot at it too, if ye don’t mind.” Johnny adds. Once again, all eyes turn to Johnny with another ‘JOHNNY?!’ which causes him to laugh.
“I’m serious.” He replies. “I’ll gladly date ye too.” He adds.
Your eyes widen. “You-”
“Mhm.” He adds.
“No.” Simon replies as he turns around once more.
“What do you mean ‘no’, L.T.?” Johnny asks in exaggerated offense.
“I mean, I don’t wanna date you.” Simon adds.
“I- Wait.” Now it’s Johnny’s time to get flustered. “Date me?” Poor lad, his whole face warms up bright red.
“Y-Yeah… Kyle and Simon kiss each other sometimes.” You announce and out of the corner of your eye you catch both of the other men stiffening up.
“I KNEW IT. I FOOKIN’ KNEW IT!” Johnny jumps up to his feet, spilling his Monster can on the table. “Ah, shite!” He says as he scrambles to pick it up again before it spills too much.
“What do you mean you knew it?!” Simon asks in shock.
“I KEN YE LIKE EACH OTHER! SAW THE WAY YOU SHARE THOSE COY LOOKS BETWEEN YE!!” Johnny shouts as he points a finger at the two men.
You’re pretty sure they’re all blushing now, you included.
“We didn’t share any looks!” Simon says defensively.
“DID TOO!” Johnny insists. “AND I TAKE OFFENSE TO YE NOT WANTING TO DATE ME, L.T.!” He adds. “I THOUGHT YE LIKED ME!”
Your eyes widen and you move your head side to side trying to keep up with the banter between them as Johnny marches his way into the kitchen so him and Simon can keep bickering.
“Are they always like this?” You find yourself asking Kyle, your eyes widened as they shout your house down.
“Yeah… This is a tame day for them actually. Should hear how they are on comms during missions.” He leans over to whisper in your ear.
“Ah…” You say softly. “I don’t know if I can handle dating this all the time.” You quip playfully, making Kyle laugh.
“You’ll get used to it.” He adds.
As you two continue watching the two men arguing, during which Simon is still, somehow, still tending to the food… You find yourself sneaking little pieces of carrot from the salad Kyle’s making.
Only to stop chewing halfway and let your piece of carrot fall right out of your hands when Johnny suddenly grabs Simon by his face and plants a big kiss right on the taller man’s lips. No warning.
At that moment, Simon looks every bit like Kyle did when they kissed for the first time. Perfectly statue-like still, eyes widened, both hands hanging in the air as if he was frozen…
Johnny’s hands are wrapped around Simon’s face, his palms over his ears, and fingers in his blonde hair, their mouths pressed together…
And then Simon comes back from the trance he’s in and his hands wrap around Johnny’s head too, his fingers digging into the back of his mohawk as their tongues battle together.
“Jesus Christ…” Kyle replies next to you, voicing your exact thoughts.
Once they pull apart, both the men are blushing red and out of breath, eyes widened.
“Ye’ll date me now?” Johnny replies.
Simon doesn’t reply, he simply turns around to finish cooking.
“I think that’s a yes.” You finally announce, finding your voice softly.
Johnny turns to look at you and smirks. “From him or from you?” He asks with a cocked brow.
“Both.” Simon quips with his back turned.
“I think that was the hottest kiss I ever witnessed.” Kyle says softly.
“I’ll give ye a smooch too, don’t get jealous, Gary.” Johnny quips and winks at Kyle.
Then, the Scot grabs a paper towel from the roll and walks toward the door to go mop up the spilled Monster from the table.
But not before he cups Kyle’s face and stealing a peck off his lips…
Then, he does the same to you… before licking his lips at the end. 
“Your wine’s tasty.” He adds, before slinking back out of the room.
You’re left blinking away the shock with an equally stunned Kyle next to you… And you’re pretty sure Simon’s stunned too…
Meanwhile, Johnny’s giggling to himself in the living room.
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the feeling that remains — ellie williams
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— part 1/7 you meet ellie during highschool, the catalyst of some of the best years of your life... until they aren't. three years after breaking up, you're trying to move on with your life. dina and jesse are getting married; and when dina asks you to be one of her bridesmaids, how could you refuse? but guess who just so happens to be jesse's best (wo)man? tw: second chance romance! exes to lovers! modern!au, fem!reader, slow burn, mult storylines, angst, fluff, first meetings, religious trauma, homophobia, gay slurs, drinking, smoking, mild violence, possibly some ooc vibes, eventual smuttt :p wk: 5.4k, spotify playlist! an: ellie my wife <3 i hope i do you justice in this fic <3 this is probably going to be a bit slower to update, once every two weeks maybe? a lot of this is based off my own personal experiences as a gay woman so it's very near and dear to me :) i am always open to suggestions, feedback, and ideas! so pls send them in! enjoy xx
series masterlist | part 2
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IT RAINED THE NIGHT you first met Ellie.
You knew who she was; there were always rumors about her floating around school. People called her terrible names behind her back, said she was someone you shouldn’t hang around. You avoided her not because you believed them, but because you were intimidated by her. 
Ellie was devastatingly pretty; had such kind green eyes and a sweet smile, she was also way cooler than you could ever dream of being. You were sure if you tried to speak to her you wouldn’t get one word out, she made you so nervous.
You watched her diligently from inside Dina’s living room, a paper party hat on your head. Dina invited you over to celebrate her 16th birthday, throwing a small party. Her parents were out of town and her big sister Talia had gotten her hands on some alcohol. You’d known Dina from a very young age; you went to the same preschool and became best friends in kindergarten. Dina was one of your only friends, aside from the girls in your church choir. 
Now that you had entered the second half of your sophomore year, you felt as if Dina stayed friends with you out of pity. She was always dragging you along, taking it upon herself to invite you to things. You appreciated it but had an inkling no one else wanted you around like she did. Dina required that you made an appearance at all events she hosted; she was also sure to bring you to bonfires and house parties, claiming you as her “plus one”.
You sighed and passed a red solo cup from one hand to the other, wiping the condensation off on your jeans. You were tipsy, it was the second time you had ever had alcohol outside of church. When you first arrived, you eyed the cup Dina handed you suspiciously. “Don’t worry,” Dina said, “you won’t go to hell for getting a little drunk.” 
You had taken the cup with a shy smile. “Happy birthday, Dina.” You handed her the gift you’d been holding in your other hand. She gasped, hands falling on your shoulders with the most gleeful smile on her face. 
The wrapping was perfectly done, you had hunched over the thing until every line was parallel and taped down perfectly. You finished it with a charming blue ribbon, tied in a neat bow at the front. “Oh, it’s lovely!” Dina gushed and you preened under her kind words. She untied the bow and carefully ripped open the paper to reveal her present. She squealed, pulling out the special edition copy of Pride and Prejudice. “You shouldn’t have!”
Really, you shouldn’t have. You saved up every cent you earned from chores the last four months to afford the book, but you wanted to spoil Dina. She deserved it, for sticking with you all these years, for being such a good friend. Before you could reply, she snapped that stupid party hat on your head and gave you a big kiss on the cheek. “You’re precious,” Dina said earnestly, “I adore you.”
You flushed at her words, unable to take the compliment. You scratched the back of your neck, attempting to brush off the twisting feeling in your stomach. You laughed awkwardly, “thanks.” Dina snorted, patting the same cheek she’d smooched.
“Now drink up, church girl, the party just started!”
You’d lost sight of Dina a while ago, choosing to stand aside in the living room while people chattered around you. Some music was bumping from an old speaker Dina thrifted with you a few months ago. There weren’t that many guests, a handful of people you knew from school, some of Talia’s friends as well. Ellie was sitting on the back porch around the firepit with Jesse and a couple of buddies, smoking a joint and talking loudly with each other. 
The fire flickered and illuminated the freckles on her cheeks. You smiled to yourself when you noticed her dimple became more prominent the more animatedly she spoke. That’s when the rain started, along with a boom of thunder in the sky. Your little bubble popped and everyone shuffled inside, opting to sit in the living room. You could feel the strained expression form on your face as it became more crowded.
Jesse noisily suggested playing truth or dare and you took that as your cue to leave. You snuck off into the kitchen, filling a glass with water. Your mouth had gone dry from your drink and your head was swimming a little from the effects of the alcohol. The water soothed your throat as you drank it.
“Not interested in playing games?” You choked on the mouthful you were about to swallow, whipping around to see Ellie leaning against the entranceway to the kitchen. Her eyebrows raised at your reaction and you could see that she was fighting off a smile.
You wiped your mouth with your hand. “N-no. Well, yes, I mean—” you paused. “Just needed some water.” You lifted the cup in your hand. 
“I can see that.” Her smile was sly and precarious. You weren’t sure if she was teasing, flirting, or making fun of you.
You squinted your eyes at her, “are you not interested? In playing games, I mean.” Ellie took a few steps towards you. Her auburn hair was damp from the rain and you could smell it on her sweatshirt; an earthy, rich scent.
She plucked the cup from your hands, sipping on your water. She placed it on the counter, empty. “Not really, no. They’re lame.” She tilted her head at you, a hazy look in her eyes.
“Are you high?”
She laughed right in your face, “yes, you priss. That’s what happens when you smoke.”
A raging warmth bloomed on your face. This was maybe the second time you’d ever spoken to Ellie alone; the previous being a bunch of stuttered sentences while you both waited for Dina to join you after school. You didn’t remember her being this snarky. “Okay.” You stressed, “no need to be rude.” You crossed your arms defensively.
She huffed through her nose, a smile on her lips. She flicked the hat on your head. “Just messing with you.” She bit her bottom lip and your gut twisted in anticipation.
You ripped the hat off your head, placing it on the counter next to the cup; suddenly feeling juvenile for wearing it. You plucked up all of the courage you had, from the alcohol and pure spite. “You sure you aren’t being a flirt? I’ve heard things about you, Williams,” you tilted your head playfully so she knew you were joking too.
She was full-on grinning, her eyes sparkled. That dimple below the left corner of her mouth appeared. Your breath caught in your throat. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” She leaned in slightly, looking at you with an expression that made butterflies flutter in your stomach.
You scrunched your nose at her, genuinely smiling for the first time that night since seeing Dina. “Y’know,” you turned your head away from her, looking up at the ceiling to avoid her piercing green eyes, “I’ve never smoked before.” 
Her smirk was pure electricity, “well, that just won’t do.” The cutesy butterflies became a hoard of bats when she pulled a new joint out of her back pocket. Her hand grasped yours and you were taken aback at how soft her skin was. You stared at your conjoined hands as she began pulling you to the other side of the kitchen, towards the connecting hallway.
You laughed and allowed her to lead you upstairs to the last door on the right, Dina’s room. Ellie shut the door behind you both and plopped herself on Dina’s window seat. You watched, frozen, as she wrestled the creaky old window open and stuck the joint in her mouth. “C’mere,” she nodded to the space next to her, speaking around the joint, “I don’ bite.”
You sprung into action, stumbling over to her. You sat next to her, your knees knocking against hers. She lit the joint, sucking in air so that the end ignited. She grasped it between her pointer finger and thumb as she passed it to you. “Now, don’t inhale too much, you’re gonna cough a lot cuz this is your first time.” She facilitated, “just take small hits until your throat’s used to the burn.”
You nodded, letting her words sink in. You brought the joint to your mouth, curling your lips around the filter, and breathed in. The taste was pleasant, but the burn was not. You immediately let out a cough, a puff of smoke escaping your mouth, unable to help yourself. You passed the joint back to her.
She smiled at you knowingly, “I was really bad the first time I smoked,” she laughed slightly, “nobody told me to take it easy so I inhaled way too much.” She took a hit of her own. “Coughed so hard I threw up.”
You let out a surprised laugh, shocked to hear that someone with her reputation had a story like that under her belt. “When was this?” You asked curiously.
“Back in Boston, before I moved here.” Ellie explained, “I did it right in front of the girl I had a massive crush on. It was so embarrassing.”
You smiled at her affectionately; passing the joint back and forth, you allowed a light daze to settle over your mind. “The first time I ever drank, Dina and I snuck a whole glass of vodka from her mom’s stash during a sleepover. We got so drunk we had to lay on the floor, everything was spinning so bad.”
Ellie gave you a bemused smile, “damn, church girl has a bad side.”
“I didn’t really want to do it at first, but, y’know,” you shrugged, picking your fingernails.
“What?” Ellie urged.
“It’s Dina.” You stated.
Ellie nodded, understanding settling on her face. “Oh, so you have a crush on Dina?”
“What?” You exclaimed, “no! I mean, she’s my best friend—”
“Yeah.” Ellie interrupted, “your best friend. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.” She shoved your shoulder, laughing at your mortified face. “All closeted girls fall in love with their best friend, it’s a right of passage.”
“Wha—?” Your face flamed with embarrassment, “Ellie, I am not gay. It’s a sin.”
Her eyebrows raised at you and she scoffed. “Right.” She said.
“I have nothing against gay people,” you held your hands up, attempting to explain yourself, “I just can’t—I can’t be gay.” She chewed the inside of her cheek as you accepted the joint from her hands, taking an especially large hit. You cough like crazy when you pass it back to her. “I have no problem with you, I’m sorry I said that.”
“‘s okay.” She said, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear and dropping her head to gaze at her shoes.
“No, it’s not.” You leaned forward so that you could look her in the eye. “I’m not like the other kids at school, I’m not some bigot.”
Ellie laughed at you again, “I got it, I got it.” Her eyes sparkled when the moonlight bounced off of them; you found yourself needing to catch your breath, chest tight. It was the smoke, just the smoke. 
There was a knowing look on her face when she looked at you again, like she understood something you didn’t. “So, what exactly have you heard about me, then?” She asked you suddenly.
“That you’re a… raging lesbian that sells drugs and fights people for fun.” You crooked a smile at her when you said it. Ellie laughed out loud, cackling with her head thrown back. You couldn’t help but join in.
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IT BEGAN TO RAIN when your flight took off for California.
You had the window seat and because of your anxiety, you held your pee for three hours instead of squeezing past your neighbors to get to the restroom. While rushing to the airport bathroom, you felt a string of buzzing in your pocket. You pulled your phone out and watched as nearly a hundred texts from Jesse pinged on your phone, stress-ridden and panicked; finally loading after you got cell service again.
You smiled wistfully, using the toilet before even attempting to respond let alone read his manic word vomit. You headed to the baggage carousel as you began to sift through the messages. Most were just mangled screaming, some half-literate, some fully realized thoughts. You rolled your eyes affectionately, a smile tugging on your lips.
Jesse was asking Dina to marry him today.
Instead of sending a supportive text, you decided giving Jesse a call would do a lot more good. He picked up after the first ring. “Jess,” you greeted carefully, “I got your messa—”
“Please help me!” He wailed on the other side of the phone. You attempted to disrupt the laugh that passed through your lips with a cough; he had never sounded this frazzled before.
“What’s wrong?” You urged, eyes flickering to the conveyor belt as it started spitting out suitcases.
“I’m not sure if I should wear the blue suit with a red tie or the black suit with the black tie or the gray suit—”
“Jesse, dude,” you said slowly, “please, calm down. You’re working yourself up for no reason.” You spotted your luggage and huffed as you lifted it off the carousel. “This proposal is super intimate and private, I don’t think you should wear a suit at all.”
“But Joel said—”
“Jess, I love and respect Joel so much, but don’t take advice from a man who’s never been married and hasn’t had to worry about what he’s wearing for a woman since Ellie graduated from college.” You said expressionlessly, all in one breath. There was a pause over the phone. 
Jesse erupted into laughter. “Oh, man,” it sounded like he was wiping a tear, “I can always count on you to make me feel better.”
You couldn’t help the smile that twitched onto your lips. “You should wear dark bottoms with a light top or light bottoms with a dark top. Think dressed up casual, if you go too fancy it’ll clash with the location.” You had the phone wedged between your ear and your shoulder as you fiddled with your purse, trying to grab your sunglasses. “I’ll find some inspiration for you on Pinterest.”
“Ugh, you’re a lifesaver.” Jesse sounded much more relaxed. “Thank you.”
“Of course, Jess, call me if you need anything else, okay?” He made an affirmative sound before you said your goodbyes and hung up. You chuckled, shaking your head at your best friend.
Your next call was to Talia, who said she was parked in front of your terminal. The California heat embraced you when you stepped outside of the airport lobby; it felt like coming home. You loved the feeling of the dry, unforgiving air against your skin. It had been too long.
A melancholy feeling took hold of your heart, squeezing it gently within its bitter palm. So much had changed since you were last in Cali; everything had changed the day you left Cali.
Talia drove a swanky little Volkswagen Beetle, it was a bright yellow and she had the top down. The wind brushed your balmy skin as you drove along the Californian coast; it was like a dream realized. In two hours, your best friends would be engaged.
“The engagement party’s gonna have an open bar,” Talia grinned, one hand on the steering wheel, “you better know I’m gonna abuse that shit after all the trouble we’ve gone through.”
It was true; keeping this massive secret from Dina, being emotional support for Jesse, and helping to plan the proposal. It was a lot of work, but it was worth it.
“She’s going to love it so much, I don’t even care how stressed I’ve been.” You replied, imagining the look that was going to be on Dina’s face when she showed off her ring. 
Most guests didn’t know what the party Jesse had planned was actually for, meaning it’d be a shock for nearly everyone there. Dina loved surprises and having a surprise engagement party after her proposal was going to be like icing on the cake for her.
Talia hesitated and you looked at her inquisitively, “...are you like—worried about Ellie being there?”
You laughed nervously in response,  “now that is something I’m not thinking about.” And you really hadn’t. You had gotten so good at pushing Ellie and all of the emotional baggage that came with her out of your mind. You forced yourself not to think about her; to keep her intimate smiles and loving giggles from resonating in your head.
It had been three years; having thoughts about your ex after that long was kind of concerning.
Talia relented, allowing you to stop the conversation before it happened. You spoke about the dress you’d brought to wear to the party and sent Jesse some outfit ideas from your Dina + Jesse Wedding Inspiration board.
Dina’s face sparkled as bright as the darling ring on her left fourth finger. Just as you thought it would. You were over the moon for her; the choked gasp she let out when she saw you for the first time in the cramped bar nearly made you sink to your knees. Your sweet Dina was finally getting everything she’d dreamed of.
“You’re here!” She exclaimed into your hair as she hugged you tight against her.
You rubbed her back, “of course I am. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” When you pulled apart her eyes were wet with emotion.
“Ugh,” she dabbed at her lashes, “don’t make me cry, you fucker.”
She’d slipped away into the crowd not much longer after that, tending to the other guests who were congratulating her and Jesse. Before you could huddle back into a corner, Jesse squeezed you into his embrace and kissed the top of your head. The tears that burned the back of your eyes convinced you to grab another drink before disappearing.
You signaled to the bartender, who approached you with a smile. “Whiskey, neat,” you said, propping your arms onto the bartop. “Please.”
“I see some things never change.”
Your head whipped to your right at the sound of a familiar drawling voice.
Ellie Williams’ gorgeous green eyes met yours, a hundred-watt smile forming on her face that sent your heart into palpitations. She was wider, fuller, clearly stronger. All signs of youth had been erased from her face with age. She’d always been annoyingly attractive, but apparently, you couldn’t catch a break from that fact even if she was your ex-girlfriend.
Even if she was your biggest heartbreak.
“Ellie,” her name left your mouth like a whisper, or maybe a prayer. How long had you secretly begged to see her again?
“Hey,” she greeted; leaning coolly against the bar, propping her tattooed forearm on the edge. You swallowed thickly.
“When’d—” your voice cracks, “when’d you get here? I didn’t see you come in.”
Her gaze swept down the length of your body and it felt like she just casually set you on fire. “I snuck in a couple minutes ago. I missed the big entrance, don’t tell anyone.” She gave you a half-smile, that fucking dimple creasing the corner of her mouth.
You felt like you were totally fumbling this interaction. She had completely thrown you off your axis; tossed a wrench into your meticulous plans to avoid interacting with her. The bartender placed your drink in front of you and Ellie grabbed their attention to order her own.
You gulped down your whiskey in three large mouthfuls, eye twinging at the taste. Your sinuses cleared and the additional oxygen to your brain calmed you a bit. “Oh—and another whiskey for the lady, please,” Ellie said as you placed your empty glass on the bar top.
You chuckled embarrassedly when Ellie winked at you while she spoke, mortified with yourself. Oh, you were entirely falling apart.
“How’s your mom?” Ellie asked and you released a breath.
“Um—good,” you cupped the back of your neck with your hand, avoiding her face. “She moved up to Boston last year to be closer to me. She’s uh, remarried.”
Ellie’s voice raised in surprise, “oh, you’re on the East Coast now?”
“Mhm,” you nodded, sending the bartender a smile when they placed your new drink in front of you, “moved there for work.” When Ellie didn’t say anything you spared a glance at her.
She looked kind of shell-shocked, a tick in her mouth that made your gut turn. You knew why, but didn’t have the strength to say anything about it to her. “What’s Joel up to? We haven’t spoken for a while.”
Ellie forced a smile, “oh, you know. Being an old man.” She wrung her fingers together like she was building her courage. “So, were you ever gonna tell me that—”
Someone called out your name from behind you. Abby Anderson approached you with her arms open and you let out a gasp when you saw her. “Abs!” You gave her a big hug. “Jesse said you weren’t coming!”
“I wasn’t, but when I heard you’d be here—”
You smacked her shoulder playfully, “stop that.”
“I was able to use some PTO last minute.” Abby’s pouty lips pulled into a smile.
A warm hand brushed your lower back, sending a shiver up your spine. Ellie leaned down to speak softly in your ear, “I’m gonna go congratulate the happy couple, I’ll see you later?”
The musky, spicy scent of her cologne flooded your senses and everything became hazy. She smelled downright edible.
“Yeah.” You breathed out, eyes fixed on the slope of her nose and lips.
She squeezed your hip lightly as her hand moved away. “Anderson,” she greeted Abby. 
“Hey, Ellie, nice to see you,” Abby replied. Ellie sent her a two-finger salute, then walked towards the hoard of people surrounding Dina and Jesse.
“Jesus fuck,” you complained, fanning a hand on your blistering cheeks.
Abby snorted, “how ya doin’?”
You sent her a withering look. “Shut up.”
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DINA FORCED YOU to come to her house for a party again.
This time, you arrived before most guests; tupperware of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies clutched in your sweaty hands. You were nervous about the social interaction, dreading it, actually. Your hand trembled when you pushed open Dina’s front door. 
Ellie trailed in after you, keys dangling off her index finger while she held the screen door open for you. She was your designated driver for the night. You insisted you didn’t need one, you weren’t going to have more than one drink, but she wouldn’t surrender.
A cookie Ellie had hand-picked as the best from the batch was hanging out of her mouth. You suspected that was the real reason she wanted to drive you, first pick out of the cookie selection. You rounded the corner and entered the kitchen; some of your anxiety was chased away when you laid eyes on Dina and Jesse.
Jesse squealed in excitement when he saw the treats you brought over. He did a little dance when you opened up the container for him. “You are an angel.” He said as he groaned into the cookie he’d snatched.
Dina smacked his shoulder when he grabbed a second one, telling him to fuck off and save some for the rest. You could see the hearts in her eyes when he turned to her with a sweet smile on his face then devoured the second cookie in one bite.
Time passed, more people were filtering in from the frigid air. You could tell most of them pregamed, eyes drooping and cheeks flushed with blood. One especially belligerent guy you’d seen in the halls at school screamed, “Merry Christmas, bitches!” when he entered the doorway. You cringed, and Ellie laughed at the disgusted look on your face. She pulled you to the couch, shoving a glass of whiskey into your hands.
You cast another look at the sweater she was wearing, a reindeer with the word “horny” underneath it, and dropped into the cushions. “That sweater is so stupid,” you told her for the third time that night, and she gave you a devious smile.
“So you’ve said.” She plopped down next to you, spreading her legs comfortably, “I think you’re secretly jealous. Your sweater looks straight out of a granny catalog.”
You gasp, feigning offense. “How dare you!” Glancing down at your cheerful sweater, you realized that maybe it kind of did look like it could be found in an old lady’s arts-and-craft magazine. There were three snowmen lined up across the front with sewn-in sequins, pom-poms, and other knick-knacks as decoration. You sighed defeatedly, “but you’re right.”
Ellie shoved you on the shoulder as she laughed. You loved seeing her this way, carefree and relaxed. Whether it was the false bravado or misconstrued rumors, your impression of Ellie before your friendship began was completely wrong.
In the months since Dina’s window, you’d learned how similar Ellie really was to you. She preferred the quiet; she liked to read, play video games, and have movie nights. You look back on how nervous you were around her and laugh, Ellie was a big dorky sweetheart at her core. Nothing like the sly playboy-like image you had in your head.
You pulled your legs up, turned to face her, and tucked your socked feet under her thigh as you sipped on your drink. The burn in your throat was pleasant. You leaned your side against the back of the couch as you asked her, “have you finished Jane Eyre yet?”
“No! Shit, I’m sorry!” She turned to you with wide, guilty eyes. You laughed against the back of your hand at her expression. “I’ve been meaning to finish it, but I’ve been playing that game I told you about,” her hands flailed as she spoke, “you wouldn’t believe what happened.”
You suddenly focused in on the way her mouth moved as she spoke. The way she pressed them together when she was thinking of a word to use, the way she licked her bottom lip between sentences. She was so enthusiastic when she talked about the things she was interested in, her eyes lighting up with delight.
You realized that you had been tuning out her words as you stared, only catching the last half of her rant. “Is this about your fungus game?” You asked, playing dumb so that you could see the annoyed expression form on her face. 
“I’ll have you know that fungus game is the most emotionally tormenting thing I have ever played in my entire life.” She stated, looking you dead in the eye.
“Oh, I believe you. Remember how you called me crying—”
“No.” Ellie cut in. You laughed into your whiskey as you took another sip.
“I wonder if I’d survive that apocalypse.” You mused out loud and Ellie snorted from beside you.
“Definitely not,” she said confidently, “you’re too sweet, you’d die after ten minutes outside.”
You gave her an offended look. “I am not that sweet, I’m just nice to you because you’re my friend.”
“Yeah, right.” Ellie teased, “you feel guilty after killing spiders.”
“They are an essential part of our ecosystem!” You defended yourself. 
Ellie snickered like she’d won the argument; you opened your mouth to make another point when someone cleared their throat from beside you. That drunk boy you recognized from earlier stood in front of the couch, glancing between the two of you. “Hey.” He greeted.
“Hi?” Ellie responded, the tone of her voice raising into a mocking question.
The boy didn’t deter, “I’m Axel.”
“Okay?” Ellie’s voice became more sarcastic.
He was looking at you when he asked, “do you want another drink?”
You glanced at your nearly-empty glass of whisky and shrugged, “honestly, I’m good, I wasn’t planning on having more than one. Thanks, though.”
“‘Cmon,” Axel smiled broadly at you, “it’s Christmas! Just have one more—”
“She said no, Axel,” Ellie said firmly, “why don’t you fuck off?”
Axel scoffed, his eyes still trained on you, “why do you even hangout with this faggot?”
Before Ellie could get up to put him in his place, before she could even react to his words, you were out of your seat. Ellie could only watch stunned as you punched Axel so hard in his face that he stumbled, dropped his drink, then fell to the floor. There was a lull in the crowd of people as they watched it all unfold, Jesse pushing through the kitchen to see the commotion.
If that wasn’t enough, you stomped towards a man already wounded, rearing your foot back threateningly. That’s when Ellie finally reacted, standing up quickly and grabbing you around the waist to pull you away as you screamed, “don’t you ever use that word you limp-dick, good-for-nothing—”
“Whoa, whoa!” Jesse held his hands up, trying to calm you down. “What the hell is going on?”
“Get him outta here, Jesse!” You growled, fuming, “get him out or he’ll have two black eyes!”
Ellie hadn’t removed her arm from around you yet, watching as Jesse pulled the boy up and walked him to the front door. She released you when the door closed. Dina approached, grabbing your face between her hands. “You okay?” She asked, watching as you took quick, aggravated breaths.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” You said sternly, wiping at the angry tears forming in your eyes. “He called Ellie a—” you send a sidelong glance at Ellie, whose gaze hadn’t left your face during the entire altercation.
“We’re okay, Dee,” Ellie soothed, “he was just being an asshole.”
Dina nodded, looking between the two of you. You huffed, lurching towards the coat rack to grab your jacket and shoes. “Need some air.” You informed everyone before stepping out the back door.
The frigid winter air nipped at your nose as you huffed breaths into the night. Your fists were clenching and unclenching, the buzz of adrenaline still in your ears. Ellie stepped out not five minutes later, dressed in her boots and jacket.
“Hey…” she began cautiously. But you threw all caution to the wind.
“Aren’t you sick of it all?” You asked angrily, turning to look at the side of her face. Your implication goes unsaid. The rumors, the homophobia, the name calling.
“I mean, yeah, but what am I gonna do?” Ellie shrugged, unperturbed. “I can’t control anyone's actions, only my own. I choose to ignore it.” Then she smiled at you, tilting her head towards the grassy lawn, “‘cmere.” She grabbed your hand and a blanket off the back of a chair and pulled you away from the porch.
Ellie spread the blanket out in the middle of Dina’s yard, sitting on top of it and motioning for you to join her. You sighed, obliging. Your shoulders touched when you situated yourself next to her, laying down flat on your backs.
It was quiet for a few moments, then you saw it. A streak of white light flashed across the sky and you gasped; one hand jumping up and pointing to where the burning asteroid just was, the other grabbing her forearm. “A shooting star!”
When you turned your head to see if Ellie had caught it too, she was already looking at you. “Make a wish,” she said softly, her eyes just as tender as her voice.
You dropped your arm and the fingers on your other hand trailed down her forearm to lace her fingers within yours. You smiled, bad mood completely forgotten. “I wish I could see your face again when you realized I wasn’t as sweet as you thought I was.”
Ellie’s astonished expression made you giggle and squeeze her hand. “I can’t believe you.” She said earnestly, turning back to look at the stars.
“I know, I’m full of surprises.” You said cockily, proud that you threw her off so much that she hadn’t been able to come up with a single sarcastic comment. She laughed freely into the crisp night air, you watched her breaths condense and then evaporate.
An overwhelming feeling overcame you, something like endearment or adoration. “I’m so glad you’re here.” You whispered, just loud enough so she could hear you. You weren’t sure if “here” meant “here in this moment” or “here on planet Earth”, but Ellie didn’t seem to care.
She squeezed your hand back, “I’m glad you’re here, too.”
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Š planetveensz 2024
635 notes ¡ View notes
cheriecoke ¡ 1 year ago
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Morning sex with Nanami would be so nice. He's still a little groggy but his morning wood demands attention so he fingers you a little before sliding in with a groan. He peppers your face and neck with loving little kisses before sucking a mark into your neck. Tells you how good you are with a little smile. So affectionate and soft.
SOBBING ! you are so right about this omg :( i want him so bad its actually unfair
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contents. morning sex, soft kento, fingering, unprotected sex, 600 words, hmm this is not that good i’m so sorry 😔
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you wake to soft fingers between your thighs, grazing the sensitive skin there. the sun is just peeking above the horizon, light filtering through the window.
"kento?" you ask quietly, your voice still hoarse from misuse. his fingers are cold against your warm skin.
he hums into your neck, breathing into the space just above your shoulder blades. a finger swipes over your panties, and already, you can feel the wetness pooling there. it doesn't take much for kento to get you worked up, not this early in the morning.
"sorry, didn't want to wake you yet, but..." kento begins in a raspy, low voice, not wasting much time before he pushes your panties to the side, dipping one finger into your folds. "i need you, sweetheart."
you can feel his hardness against you thigh, straining against his boxer shorts. your eyes flutter shut again lazily, and you breath softly as kento slips another finger inside of you, scissoring them in and out of you.
"feels good," you say lazily, a burn of desire staring in your chest kento shifts you onto you back, his hands gentle and loving.
he presses kisses all over your face, across your cheeks and the bridge of you nose. something about the tenderness of it turns your cheeks warm, and you grasp at him as his swirls his thumb over your clit. "so beautiful," kento whispers against your cheek.
you don't always feel beautiful, not this early in the morning, but you smile at him anyway, preen under his soft compliment. "want more, ken."
kento's fingers stroke deeper in your cunt, and you moan quietly, arching your back off the bed to press yourself further onto him.
but he doesn't let you cum first, and instead, slips his fingers out of you, tugging off his pants. he's hard and aching, leaking at the tip when he finally presses into you.
you're already so wet from just his fingers, it doesn't take much for him to slide into you, desperate for your touch.
a little gasp leaves you nonetheless, and though his eyes are clouded with lust, it catches his attention, and he slams his hips against yours, just a bit harder.
"god, i love you so much," he says, lacing his fingers with yours against the bed. his deep brown eyes are so soft as he gazes at you, so tender and glossy you feel as if you might cry. "you're so good to me, angel."
"i love you too," you say, as he drags himself out of you slowly, before thrusting deeper inside of you.
the two of you are quiet, listening to each other's heartbeats in the serenity and peace of the early morning. neither of you last long, and when you cum around kento, he spills into you just a few moments later.
he brushes your sweaty hair out of your face, still inside you as his breath grazes your cheeks. your face burns, and you are hot all over. you may have loved kento for years, but he has always made you feel the same sort of adoration as the beginning of your relationship.
"i'm so happy you're mine," you say softly, and you're still so sleepy, you don't really consider the words that leave your mouth.
or the way that kento melts once more, his heart jumping out of your chest at your gentleness.
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bbystark ¡ 2 months ago
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♡ simon is a bad stalker part 4 ♡
badstalker!simon x reader series - pt one two three
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♡ masterlist ♡ request more! ♡
summary: the date you've been waiting for dreading.
a/n: so i did the thing again where i dissapeared lol but IM BACK plz enjoy my offering
you get home safely, with soap, and you don't say a singular word. just kind of dumbly stare out the window and then at him when he helps you out of the car and into your house.
you can't stop thinking about ghost, and the fact that you quite literally cornered yourself into going on a date with your stalker
you really chalk it up to having some type of third response to danger, fight, flight or say the most ridiculous thing you possibly can. obviously you chose the third.
you go to bed that night with your cat in your arms, as if they can protect you from you're own stupid decision. you're shivering no matter how warm you try to get, and your cat throws you irritated side eyes.
you wake up with no sign of ghost. no calls, no texts, no emails. you try not to think about if he was in the house while you slept, like he had been before.
you try to have a normal day, but you're plagued with anxiety and anticipation
you decide to go outside, walk to the little coffee shop that's nearby to get fresh air and be somewhere you knew ghost hadn't been
you spend a few hours out, window shopping and trying to clear your head. you head back when the sun starts to go down, not keen on being out after dark.
what you come back to is almost comical.
you stumble through the door, eyes snapping to the huge figure in your kitchen. he turns around suddenly, and your cat is in his arms, rubbing her face against his mask. you only see it for half a second before he's setting them on the counter faster than you can blink. your cat lets out an irritated meow, and somehow even through the mask, ghost looks guilty
you laugh, you honest to god laugh. "oh my god. you fucking traitor." you whisper at your cat, trying to suppress your giggles. yeah, add this to the list of danger responses.
ghost straightens, and then you notice your surroundings. there's roses in a vase on your table, and he's cooking, there's at least 3 different pans and it smells incredible and you're dumbfounded. you stare at him, unable to say anything.
"welcome to your date love." he turns back to the stove, and you're grateful, because you feel like you can't move while he's looking. like one wrong move will make him snap and your worst nightmares will come true. you keep reminding yourself that nothing has happened before, and you take a seat in the chair at the table closest to the door.
"um, the roses are nice." you can see him cooking at this angle. "glad you like 'em. dinner will be done in a few." he doesn't turn around. he doesn't know how this will go, he's expecting you to run out at any moment, screaming bloody murder. he's trying to help you feel safe by turning his back, giving you the upper hand (or at least the illusion of the upper hand).
underneath that worry though, ghost was thriving in this scenario. it was like watching all of his fantasies come true, he couldn't help but preen under your compliment, and the ability to show you he can provide
you're still a little in shock. you don't say anything as ghost serves you dinner, your favorite, not surprising. you watch as he rolls up his mask, and takes a bite. it still doesn't convince you of the possibility of it being drugged.
"it's alright dove, not 'ere to hurt you, just 'ere to give you the date i promised." as he says it, your cat jumps onto the table, knocking over a glass of water. ghost stands, and looks down to find all the water had made it directly into his lap.
you find yourself laughing for the second time of the night. here your stalker is, looking like he peed himself. he chuckles himself, and you have to look away when you see his lopsided smile. you stand and grab a towel, temporarily forgetting the situation you were in. it was way too easy to see this as a real first date, awkward parts and all.
"thanks." he sits back down, clearing his throat. the proximity to you was intoxicating, but he was still worried about running you off.
you sit back down too, and take and slowly take a bite of the food. it's delicious, and you still can't believe the absurdity of the situation. "this is really great ghost. really." your voice is small, and music to his ears.
"thank you. m'sorry about breaking in. swear 'm just trying to make your life easier."
you decide to start testing boundaries, as one would. "maybe, since this is going... okay, you can stop coming in when i don't know? like maybe we can just keep doing this every once in a while?" damage control is all you can think of.
ghost thinks for a moment. "i dunno about that one love. how 'bout i give you a heads up when i do come in?"
"no more coming in here while i'm sleeping. and you still have to tell me when you're in my house."
"alright," he crosses his arm and leans back on the chair. do you hate how big he is because you're scared, or because you secretly like it? "i tell you when i come over, and no more coming in at night. but you 'ave to promise me one date a week."
you can't believe you're negotiating with this man. "okay." you concede.
he smiles and pulls his mask back down. he makes his way over to you, stroking your hair for half a second before clearing your plate. "look at us. arguing like a proper old couple already. "
as he does the dishes, you ask him more questions. he's answers as truthfully as he can, leaving out details here and there. no need to startle you.
you learn he was in the military, that the two men are some of the only people he's close with, that he trusts. besides you, of course. you feel like he throws that in to tell you to be wary of using this information against him.
from what you can tell, this is just a severely damaged man. the actions he was taking against you was just his reaction to loneliness, and his need to provide.
against your will, you feel the need to help him fill that hole. the need to tread lightly dissipates by the minute, and against your better judgement, you find yourself enjoying his company. and hey, he made dinner and did the dishes. that has to speak to his character somehow
later, he grabs your hand and runs rough fingers over your soft knuckles. promises he'll call, and then leaves.
and you're left alone, forced to do what you've done a lot lately; ponder your life decisions, and think about the large, surprisingly harmless stalker of yours..
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jarofstyles ¡ 9 months ago
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Bad Idea, Right?
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Obviously inspired by Miss Olivia Rodrigo’s song, here is a one shot I loved writing :) a bit of angst, a bit of a fluff, a lot of smut, a little bit of everything!
Check out our Patreon for early access and 160+ exclusive writings!
WC- 6.2k
Warnings- toxic relationship, kinda asshole h, angst, crying, slight degradation, spitting, impact play (light), sex tape filming, daddy kink (light), use of Mama 🤭
—-
Y/N knew this was a very bad idea. She knew she was going to regret this in the morning, as she usually did when Harry texted her to show up somewhere, but here she was. 
Her best black dress in the most soft fabric, the one he had complimented her on endlessly before peeling it off when they had still been together, was glued to her body, Hair curled and falling down her shoulders. If she was going to show up at a houseparty that her ex boyfriend was throwing, she may as well go all out and wear something that she knew he liked. 
Internally, she tried to talk herself out of it as she approached the open door, ignoring the people making out on his lawn. The thump of the bass was audible outside, a deep sigh being let out as she tossed her phone in her clutch after texting him a simple ‘here.’ The shot she had taken before had done next to nothing to calm her nerves, her red lipstick meticulously touched up in the back of the uber as she squirmed in the seat surely getting fucked up as she bit down on her bottom lip, venturing into the home that used to be so familiar to her. 
It had been 5 months since they’d broken up, but it had barely seemed like it. Harry had a way of getting into her head and driving her absolutely fucking mad. Their back and forth seemed neverending, their text threads updating every few days. A fight, a makeup, a request to see one another. As much as she wanted to claim it was all him, she knew she was equally as bad. It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried to find someone else- but no one else could get her off like him.
Harry knew her body better than anyone else, every curve and mark, where to touch and stroke. Where to stroke, where to lick, where to bite. He was an expert on how to get her off in just minutes, her cunt completely dedicated to him as much as she wished it wasn’t. Her brain and pussy had no communication in the information regarding the fact they were broken up, much to her dismay. The only thing saving her ego was that she knew that she had the same effect on Harry. There was no way she didn’t. Harry could very well fuck anyone he wanted to, more than capable to pull. Y/N had been overly jealous as a girlfriend and she knew that, but people were drawn to her boyfriend despite the fact it was well known he was taken. While he didn’t seem to take them up on it- he ate up the attention and preened over it, much to her irritation. It caused fights upon fights, her going out of her way to make him jealous- which worked. They both seemed to get off on pissing each other off. 
Breaking up was supposed to stop the cycle, but it seemed to only string it out further.
There had been so many times she deleted his number but when he pulled up on her notifications again, she recognized the number and his attitude and couldn’t resist temptation. No one had ever made Y/N feel so many emotions in her life. Being around Harry was like a live wire, electric and hot, dangerous and potentially harmful, but the benefits sometimes outweighed the risks. 
Her nose crinkled as she felt the floor stick under her shoe, knowing he would be pissed about that tomorrow. Whatever spiked punch was all over the floor and that would take some elbow grease to get out. Navigating through the entryway, she made her way into the living room. It was dark, flimsy lighting had been put up to make colorful strobes go around the room, the room far too filled for comfort. It was stupidly warm, regret crawling up her neck as she looked around to find anyone familiar. 
“There she is!” The voice was unmistakable. Niall, arms tugging her in for a hug and pulling her into the kitchen where it was a bit quieter, the main group she was familiar with strung about along with a few strangers. “Harry’s girl is here, everyone! Y/N herself.” He chirped, making her give him a confused look until she followed his gaze to see Harry standing stiffly, a girl too close for comfort. Her eyes narrowed, taking in how the girl angled her body, hand resting on Harry’s arm, looking at her with a scowl. 
It was an ugly feeling to see someone else around her man. Well- he wasn’t her man, but it was another miscommunication between her heart and brain. She hated seeing him around someone else, the mere idea of him being with someone that wasn’t her made her stomach turn. It wasn’t right. Yes, she knew it was a toxic cycle but it was one she didn’t know how to break. She knew this was bad, but she didn’t want anyone else having him the way she did. 
The only saving grace was the fact that Harry looked uncomfortable, immediately peeling himself away from the other girl and coming straight over to Y/N.. Her face must have shown her irritation, mouth opening and arm resting on her hip as she went to give him a bit of hell but was cut off by his mouth. 
And Y/N’s body, she was a fucking traitor. Feeling his arms wrap around her and push her against the counter, his tongue pressing into her mouth and tasting the cinnamon from the alcohol and sticky remnants of Coca Cola on his lips made her brain go numb. She always did love how strong he was, how safe she used to feel wrapped up in his arms. There were a few wolf whistles surrounding them, but Y/N had been taken aback from the heat of it so early on, hand slipping between her and the counter to grab at her ass. A surprised moan left her mouth before Niall let out a laugh. 
“Alright, alright. Stop eating her, Harry.” Niall smacked his back, making Harry pull back with a hazy smirk. Almost dopy, making her blink up at him with her eyes narrowing again. His eyes were dark, lips wet now and that dark pink she liked so, so much. He hadn’t shaved today, leaving a bit of stubble around his face, a backwards hat combing his hair back to keep it out of his face. The nose piercing was swapped from a stud to a hoop, making her a bit surprised. Had he done that for her? He knew she liked it….
“You can take your hand off my ass now.” Her sassy tone didn’t match how her eyes looked, secretly loving that he had so publicly claimed her in front of a girl they both knew wanted him. It was a sick feeling, the victory even though she knew it was wrong to feel that way. It was a constant fight with herself. Knowing she should most definitely not be feeling so happy that her ex had just kissed her dumb in front of all his friends, but still liking that she had a claim on him. 
“I could.” He retorted. “But it feels so nice in my palm, and we both know how much you like it.” A squeeze was given, Y/N scowling back up at him but not making any attempt to move. If she wanted to, he would get out of the way- but they both knew how this went. She pretended she didn’t liked his hands on her, he taunted her, they would glare and play fight before it got a little real, and they’d fuck. A circle they’d swung around plenty of times. His lips lowered to her ear, ignoring the chatter around them. “You’re wearing my dress, hm?” 
“Yours? M’sorry, did you want to wear it?” She rose her eyebrow that she definitely hadn’t laid to perfection before she came here. “I forgot you even liked this one. It was the first thing I could reach in my closet.” Her nose was turned up, this time pushing past him to go over to the drinks. She looked down to see a cup with his name scribbled on it with a sharpie, lifting it up for confirmation before throwing it back.
Regretted immediately.
“Ugh- Harry, what the fuck?” She gagged, nose wrinkled as she opened his fridge to grab a bottle of water. “I forgot how disgusting your drinks are. God, how do you even have a stomach?” She gave him a horrified look, swishing the water in her mouth.’
“No one told you to fuckin’ take mine!” He grumbled, taking the cup to find it empty. “Fucks sake, Y/N. Taking my drink and then bitching about it. As usual.” He came up behind her to grab the bottle over the fridge, his ‘good stuff’ or whatever. It was already that time of night? 
Where they started poking at each other to cause a fight. To have an excuse to wander off and to strip down to nothing. 
“Excuse me?” Y/N grit her teeth, turning to look at him as he poured into his recently emptied cup. He was trying to get a rise out of her. 
“You heard me, princess. Know those ears work, considering you’re an eavesdropper.” 
Oh, he was going low. She crinkled the water bottle in her hands, shoulders tending as she exhaled sharply through her nose. “Well I wouldn’t have had to if you didn’t get so fucking weird with your phone. You were the one hiding a ‘project partner’ from me.” Her fingers did air quotes around that, showing that she didn’t believe his excuse. 
“Oh, for fucks sake.” Harry hissed, his own jaw setting. “I told you that she was just a partner for my paper. I didn’t tell you at first because I know you’d overreact and go all insane on me for daring to interact with another woman.” He snarled back, knowing where to hit where it hurt. 
“I wouldn’t have had to be paranoid if you’d respected me to stop flirting and entertaining girls who disrespected our relationship by hitting on you in front of me! You literally encouraged it!” She was trying to keep her voice down, but it was hard. This was an especially sore spot. 
“So replying with a thank you is encouraging it? Sue me for liking that someone complimented me on something!” He raised an arm up, running fingers through his hair in frustration before he turned away to lean on the counter with his arms crossed, cup in hand. “God, you do this every fucking time. We aren’t fucking together anymore, that’s your fault. Why do you continue to harrass me about this? Even if I did encourage it, I never went for it did I?” A cruel smirk emerged. “Though I’m a free agent now, yeah? Could go take Josslyn or Heather up on their offers?
Harry knew he had taken it a bit too far when her breathing caught for real, watching as he froze and her bottom lip trembled. That wasn’t a part of their regular script to wind each other up before hot sex. It was a bit of the real hurt that has blossomed through, but he hadn’t meant to let it out. Her eyes turned glassy, her hand snatching his drink and throwing it at his shirt. 
“Fuck you.” 
Harry felt the cold liquid hit him, hissing as he stood in slight shock as he watched her turn to leave. He had really fucked up. His stomach dropped as he tried to gather his bearings, cursing under his breath before going after her. 
“Y/N! Fuck, don’t go.” He yelled after her, making his way through the throngs of people in his living room, eyes watching her back go towards the door. While he had definitely said fucked up things before, this had been designed to hit where it really hurt. 
Y/N stomped through the living room, ignoring his calls for her as she got closer to the door- closer to escape- when she was caught. Arms wrapping around her waist as he pulled her into the bathroom next to the stairs and turning so he was against the door. Y/N kept her back towards him but yanked herself free from his grip, irritated that she was crying. That it still hurts. He knew it would and that’s partially what made it worse. He had been out to hurt her and she had known it was a bad idea to show up tonight but somewhere in her heart she had this tiny, tiny hidden hope that maybe tonight would be a night they could finally get over their differences. She missed him so much it ached if she allowed herself to feel it, but she had tried to refuse her feelings. 
It had boiled over now, though.
Harry swallowed thickly as he heard the sniffle. Y/N wasn’t one to cry about a lot. She hadn’t shed a lot of tears in the time they’d been together, emotionally iron clad as it seemed. When she did? It was unnerving. Heartbreaking. It was one of his least favorite things ever, seeing her crumble. While he may have enjoyed getting her angry and irritated, maybe a little jealous, he never liked hurting her. He gained no pleasure from that. 
“Baby…” He spoke softly, trying to turn her around, hands pulling at her shoulders. He was bigger than her and could definitely turn her around if he wanted to, but he wouldn’t ever touch her in a way she didn’t want. 
“No. You can’t- you can’t call me that anymore. I am not your baby.” She hissed, keeping herself turned from him. Harry winced. She hadn’t said that before, not seriously, but the venom in her voice had shown how upset she was. It was laced with the hoarse blanket that coated her voice when she cried, making it even worse. “You can go call Josslyn or Heather. I’m sure they’d love to be your b-baby.” The end of the sentence was joined with a little sob, effectively breaking his heart further. 
“No. No, I’m not… I didn’t mean it, Y/N. I promise. I was just upset and I didn’t mean for it to come out, I just wanted you to feel-”
“What?” Whipping around, Y/N’s mascara streaked cheeks were a blow to the chest. Her vulnerability was something he used to crave, to be the one she confided in or let herself break with. He wanted to be there for her. Not be the cause of her tears. “You wanted me to feel hurt, like you did? Do you not think I don’t hurt every fucking day?” 
“You broke up with me!” Harry tried, her glare making him stop talking quickly after. 
“I broke up with you because you didn’t take me seriously. How could you go from telling me you can’t wait to put a ring on my finger, can’t wait to have a family with me, to flirting with girls the same night? Do you know how humiliating it is to have your friends tell you that they heard so and so say they were going to try something because it ‘obviously isn’t serious with Y/N?” The incredulous look on her face made him shrink back a bit. 
“I didn’t know that! It was never real flirting, Y/N. I liked to get my ego stroked, the attention felt nice, but I would never, ever step out on you. I love you, for fucks sake!” He went to reach for her but she backed up, flinching slightly. Another dagger to the chest. He had really, really fucked up. She never denied his touch.
“You love me?” A humorless laugh escaped her swollen lips. “Is that how you love people, Harry? Make them feel disposable and humiliated because you can’t be happy with one girl telling you that she loves you back? My compliments weren’t enough?” Arms crossed defensively over her chest. “Give me a fucking break. Telling me that as if you didn’t just say moments ago that you should take up girls who actively disrespected our relationship on their offers to fuck you while you were dating me? Yeah, that’s definitely something someone who loved me would do.” She wanted to stay angry but she was hurt. Hurt so bad, the full weight of their breakup actually hitting her as she felt the sob crawl up her throat and hurried to cover her eyes as she began to cry. It couldn’t be held back. She was at her breaking point.
Harry wanted to throw up. He hadn’t thought of it that way, and honestly? He had never expected this. Sometimes Y/N had acted as if she didn’t have a lot of emotion, reserved and a bit quiet when she expressed herself. The one time he had gotten her to let go was during sex, where he truly felt her desire. That was maybe why he liked the attention from other people. She wasn’t very forthcoming with praise or overly lovey with him, and it had hurt a little. But he could deal with that later, because his poor fucking girl was sobbing in front of him.
“No, no… sweet girl. Please.” He watched as she dropped down to sit on the floor, gathering her knees to her chest as he followed after her. “Hey- M’so sorry. I didn’t think about it like that. I really didn’t. I was just talking out of my ass because I was hurt we’re still broken up a-and I shouldn’t have said anything but….” He sat down fully next to her, pulling her body on to his lap. She tried to squirm at first but he could tell it was half hearted as she settled down a moment later, the sobs wracking her body as his arms wrapped around her and his lips went to her ear. 
“M’so sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t ever want to make you feel that way. You’ve always been so important to me and this is breaking my heart.” He whispered. “Hate that you’re crying because of me. I hate that I ever made you doubt that you were important to me, or that I respect you. I do. I promise you, I do.” He whimpered slightly, desperate to get her to believe him. “I’m an ass, I know. But you have to know I do, I love you so much. I’m so fucking sorry for throwing that in your face.” 
In the grand scheme of things, he knew that some people would think she was overreacting- but he understood now. He hadn’t truly meant to take it that far, hadn’t even stopped to think that those exact women had been sources of insecurity. They were the first to pop into his head because he had rejected them again tonight, waiting for Y/N to arrive. 
He never wanted to be broken up with. He had planned on being with her forever, and he had fucked it up. 
Her cries started to fade, sniffles taking the place of sobs as he whispered soft words, consoling her. He knew he’d fucked up tonight, in their relationship. He hadn’t communicated the way he needed to and he played games, but he thought that it would get a different reaction. His intentions weren’t to hurt her. Selfishly, stupidly, he assumed it hadn’t phased her. That she was just angry and not upset. 
If she’d give him another chance he’d fix it. He’d make sure to open her up a little more, make her feel more safe. Reign in his flirting, make sure he was just polite instead. He’d never put their relationship in jeopardy again. “C’mon. Come with me, to my room.” Standing up, he pulled her along with her. It said a lot about her right now that she wasn’t fighting, letting him lead her to his room with her hand tucked in his own. Her face was downcast, making sure no one could see that she’d cried as Harry took the key from his pocket and undid the lock. He really didn’t want strangers in his room.
It was still the same. His navy bedspread and Nirvana posters on the side of his wall, his desk slightly messy with a leftover fast food cup sitting next to his water bottle on his night stand. He’s gotten it for her, because she got thirsty in the middle of the night. 
What really got her attention was the framed photo of them that was right next to it. Her soft smile and his wide one, teeth out as he held her in his lap. His flannel was around her and his hat was backwards as he snuggled her. It had been cool that night but there was a bonfire, not enough seats and a handsy Harry ready to make his lap her throne. Her throat tightened as she looked at the photo, dropping his hand and wrapping her arms around her body to self soothe before she walked up to it. 
“Why do you still have this up?” Her voice was shaky still, looking down at the happy memory. 
“Because I still love you. I told you.” Hands were placed on her hips as she was brought into him, hugging her from behind as he unwrapped her arms and threaded their fingers together. “I know I’ve been shit. I’ve been… impatient, an attention whore, all of the insults you’ve said. But I love you. I have since day one. I’d have never cheated on you, regardless of what you may believe.” The idea of it made him feel ill. 
“Then why?” Her wavering voice made him frown. “Why did you keep flirting with people in my face? I know you said it was cause I wasn’t giving you enough compliments but I didn’t know you thought that.” His heart nearly snapped in two when her voice broke. “I thought the world of you. I was so proud to be with you and then… I thought you just didn’t like me anymore. I know…” A deep inhale was felt as her tummy lifted both of their arms. “I know I can be a little cold or quiet, but I had no idea you felt neglected. I pulled back because you kept talking to other girls how you used to talk to me and… I didn’t feel like it was okay to.”
It made him feel worse. Hearing this now. Y/N had broken up with him and he’d been hurt, his pride making him sneer at her and the nastiness was even more uncalled for now that he knew. Y/N wasn’t a bitch, she wasn’t unfeeling- she didn’t feel safe. He’d done that to her because he was the little bitch here, not giving her the safety she needed in order to open up. While they should’ve been continuing growing, he got his feelings hurt and made it impossible for her to feel like she could give those things to him. 
“I’m sorry.” His voice was weak. “I’m sorry. I’ll keep saying it. I didn’t mean it. I promise, nothing I've said is true. I wanted to wind you up, I wanted to fuck you because it was the only way you’d get close to me again. I never intended on making you feel unsafe with me, fuck. That’s the last thing I ever wanted. Makes me feel sick to hear that.” He nuzzled against her neck, placing a kiss there before pulling away, unwrapping them and sitting on the edge of his bed. Y/N wasn’t fighting him, so he gently tugged her to sit on his lap, this time facing him. “There she is.” A sad smile lifted his lips, thumb wiping away the streaks of mascara that had flaked off with her tears. “Still so pretty when you cry, even if it breaks m’heart.” 
It was worse than a kicked puppy. Y/N wasn’t a huge emoter so knowing that he’d done this had made him wonder what she did alone. How many other times he’d made her cry but she wasn’t solid enough around him to do it in front of him. 
“You broke mine.” She whispered, looking down at his shirt. “I don’t mean to be a bitch. I was just scared.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Let me fix it. Please?” Holding her face in his hands, he got her eyes back on his. “Let me make it better. I won’t do any of that ever again, I’ll communicate better… Just let me make your heart feel safe again.”
Y/N knew she was a sucker for this. She shouldn’t say yes. Every part of her except her brain was screaming to stay, though. While her head was telling her to run away as fast as she could, her heart thudded in her chest and her body wanted closer to his own. It was a decision she may come to regret, maybe she’d hate herself for it, but she couldn’t let go. “O-Okay.” She whispered, feeling his head fall against hers. “Please don’t break my heart again, H. I can’t do that again.” 
“I’d rather die.” 
His lips were pressed against hers, and moved quickly from there. 
One of the things that never lacked with them as a couple was sexual chemsitry. It’s what had them so obsessed with each other at first. The best way to get Y/N to express herself was when she was full of cock or close to the edge of orgasm, which was why Harry had no problem saying his apologies between her legs. 
“M’sorry, baby.” He crooned, licking over her drippy slit. “So, so sorry. M’gonna take care of you.” Lips pressed kisses to her clit, a keening whine leaving her lips as fingers clutched his hair and brought him closer to her. His mouth had always been his greatest gift and biggest curse. Somehow he knew all the right things to say, all the right things to do to pleasure her but always stuck his goddamn foot in his mouth. He was going to change that now. 
Dark green gazed into hers as he took another broad lick, the tip of his nose brushing over her clit. Large hands with chipped polish wrapped around her thighs and kept them spread, his hair a mess from her hands carding through it with their hot makeout and now his time spent working on her pussy. This was undoubtable a perk of being with the man, knowing how much he genuinely loved to eat pussy. He’d spend hours licking and sucking on her, making her sensitive and cum over and over again whenever he had the chance. For his birthday he’d genuinely wanted a day inside with her where he spent the majority of his morning eating her for breakfast, her thighs his perfect earmuffs from the snow that happened to fall on the day. 
Whenever they spent time apart he missed this desperately. He’d not even tried to find someone to replace this because he knew the feeling wouldn’t ever be the same. Sure, he’d loved eating pussy before Y/N but it had turned into a full on obsession with her. No one had ever tasted as good, made as many cute noises, squealed when his mouth latched on her clit and his finger curled just right- like he was doing now, holding her bucking hips down. 
“Oh, I know, Mama, I know.” He cooed against her. “Feels so fucking good, doesn’t it? Needed my mouth on this greedy fucking pussy…” Pursing his lips, he spit over her slit and watched it drip with a hiss before usng his tongue to spread it, digits dripping down to his wrist before his tongue trilled over the swollen bud. It didn’t take much to push her over, but a well timed smack against her thigh to get her to stop squirming had done the job. A wet gasp tore from her mouth as she squeale his name, simultaneously pulling his mouth against her and trying to push him away. Using his strength against her, he made sure to lick up a bit before spitting again, leaving her pussy wet and messy as he climbed up her body and kissed her hard. 
His chin was wet and she knew he was a fucking mess but her tongue delved into his mouth, tasting herself on him. She could hear the tug down of his zipper, felt him moving and wiggling his pants down but she was too busy sucking on his tongue and reveling in his moans against her to think twice before she felt the tip of his cock smack against her cunt. 
“I’m clean, baby. No one but you, never need anyone but you.” His grip on her chin was tight as he rutted himself against her cunt. “Even when you were being a miserable bitch t’me, all I wanted to do was love on you. M’gonna make sure you never fucking doubt how much you own me again. This is the only cunt I need.” 
There was sick satisfaction that rolled through him as he slid into her and felt the stretch, watching her mouth fall open as she was filled. It only confirmed what he had hoped- she hadn’t been fucking around much, if at all. Granted, he was thick and long and it would be hard to beat him, but he knew what she felt like when she was well fucked. “Oh, look at that…” He whispered, angling her head down to look at where her pussy lips clung to his cock as he pulled out a bit. “She missed me, didn’t she, baby? Sweet pussy missed my cock so fucking much, doesn’t want me to pull away.” 
Harry was by far the filthiest man she’d ever experienced but that’s part of the appeal. He may be a bit of an asshole, but god, he knew how to fuck. How to kiss. How to make her feel special when he wasn’t being a dickhead. Moments like this always wiped that shit clean, the slate cleared and her head foggy as all she could focus on was how right he was. “Yeah- yeah, don’t take it from me again.” She growled, digging her nails into his skin. “Don’t fucking take my cock from me again, don’t make me walk away. This is mine.” 
Harry hissed, loving the sting on his skin and how she spoke. Y/N could be a fierce little bitch and he loved that about her. She hadn’t been pleased tonight and he’d taken it too far, but she was going to have no doubt how much he had been missing her. Their hate sex had been good, but their makeup sex was even better. “Never, Mama. Never, it’s all yours. You’re right.” His voice soothed, pushing back into her and reveling in how hot she was. Tight. Everything he could possibly need. “It’s yours always, and I don’t want anyone else. Jus’ want you to let me love on you, make you feel good. Be my girl again. He had everything else he wanted, but Y/N was the missing link. He’d fucked up with her, but he wouldn’t do it again. Not when this was how explosive it was between them. 
“You better fucking treat me right.” Her hand held his face now. “Better be so nice to me, buy me f-flowers and hold my hand… Fuck me good, make sure all the other b-bitches know that you’re taken.” Her legs wound around him and he felt a heel surely to bruise his ass, but he didn’t care. “Don’t let them think you’re available because you’re an attention whore.”
Harry moaned at the degrading words, because they were true. He was indeed an attention whore and he’d never deny it. “Only for you, baby. Want all your fucking attention… fuck.” He hissed, thrusting slower as he looked at where they joined. “Creaming on my cock already, really must have missed me.” Noses brushed before he fucked harder into her, trying to bring her to the edge. “Fingers didn’t cut it, did they? No toy can make you feel as good as his. Know that you needed Daddy t’fuck you right.” 
Y/N let out a wail as he tugged her hips up, his face leaving hers to sit on his knees while he fucked her. He was getting the spot she needed, saying the words she wanted and she felt hot all over. Syrupy, sticky hot as she dripped down her ass as the sound of their sex filled his room. The music muffled behind the door didn’t matter, all she wanted to hear was his dirty talk and the sound of their skin. “Yes, I needed it Daddy- Fuck me, fuck me right. You always make me cum over and over…” her head rolled back on the mattress as her fingers found his wrists, grounding herself as he fucked her steady and hard. 
His eyes took in the view of bouncing tits and a messy cock pistoning in and out of her creamy cunt, breathing heavy while he felt her tighten up on him. His goal was always to make sure she came over and over, a generous lover being one of his positive attributes. “Mhm… It’s never changed, Mama. M’gonna give it to you just like that. God, you look so fucking pretty on my dick, baby. Need to capture it.” He adjusted slightly as he took his phone out, thankful his pants had only been down a few inches as he pressed record. A breathy laugh left him as he fucked into her willing body, aiming the camera down at her face. “Say hi to the camera, pretty girl.” He crooned. 
“H-Hi Daddy.” She mewled, preening under the attention. It was a guilty pleasure of hers, knowing he had the filthy images and videos on his phone. It was even better to watch it back and see just how wrecked she got from him. “You’re gonna be nice to me so you- so you don’t have to delete these, right?” He’d had to delete all the videos when they broke up, but she hoped this time they’d get to stick around forever. 
“Of course, my sweet girl. Never gonna fuck this up again… Not when we look so fucking good together. Feel so fucking good together…. Fuck, look at that…” He got a close up of her cunt as it stretched to fit him, clinging to his length. “You’re gonna cum, I can feel it.” His eyes met hers as he started to get her to the edge, her face glistening and eyes hazy. “Go on, baby. Do it. Cum on my cock, make a fucking mess.” 
Harry could feel it as she did, the high pitched whine of his name and the bite of her nails as she writhed on his cock, the camera capturing her face as she did so. Mouth open and eyes rolled back, the blissed out smile following as he fucked her through it. He didn’t stop, tossing the phone to the side as he kissed her again as his cock pulsed, trying to hold back his own orgasm. “Mmm… fuck. I love when you cum on me. So gorgeous, all mine.” He rubbed their noses together again while humping into her, her impossibly hot cunt clinging to him as he peppered kisses to her face. “But I’m not done with you yet.” 
“No?” She grinned, feeling drunk. “Should have known, you sex maniac- fuck.” She pushed his hand away from her cunt. “Give a girl a minute, fucks sake.” 
“Just got you back, can you blame me?” He smiled against her mouth, sucking her lower lip into his mouth and grazing it with his teeth. He wanted her to look freshly fucked and glowing tomorrow when she had to meet up with her friends for brunch, sure to piss them off with the news that they’re back together. “Mean it, I’m not letting you go this time. Never again.” His smirk got bigger. “Pussy’s too fucking good.” 
“Shut up, slut.” She pushed his face away playfully. You’ve got more than one orgasm to go until I think about taking you back. Prove your worth to me.” His cock could be felt twitching inside her yet again. 
“Whatever you say, Mama.” He cooed, pulling out of her regretfully. “Now, get on your knees. I’ve got to say sorry to your pretty ass.”
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dadsbongos ¡ 2 months ago
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denji is so unused to being in a healthy relationship, he'd be the one asking you stupid questions all the time.
babe, would you love me if i was a worm?
babe, do you actually have a crush on me?
babe, why did you cheat on me in my dream last night?
babe, you made sure to tell that barista you had a boyfriend, right?
he doesn't really realize where all those questions come from nor does he understand why it kinda sorta really stings when you don't answer them straight up. he just gets curious, and that curiosity is so strong it makes his chest pound so hard it clogs his throat.
when you're sleeping or eating or otherwise distracted he just stares and wonders-
"babe, do you- like- like me?"
since the very beginning of your relationship, you slowly learned that laughing off his questions or answering with jokes didn't exactly please him. despite his unserious nature, he was so strangely solemn about these ridiculous questions.
and answers like of course, honey didn't make him happy either. it seemed impossible to answer him, then. until you realized-
"how couldn't i, den'?" you just have to preen him, stroke his hair and kiss his cheek and compliment him, "so funny and handsome. you're the best person i know to talk to."
that makes him smile and nod, pecking your lips, "cool! just checking!"
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soo0hee ¡ 14 days ago
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Not so Innocent
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Pairing — Yoon Jeonghan x afab!Reader
Summary — Jeonghan has the sneaking suspecion that you might have a thing for praise... maybe he's right...
Genre — smut
Warnings — heavy makeout session, humping, tell me if i missed sumn
Word Count — 0.5k
Rating — NSFW - ☕️☕️☕️
A/N — Here you go @svtiddiess ✨️
Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by Šsoo0hee on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED!
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Ever since your 4th date with Jeonghan, the man had a feeling that you weren´t as innocent as you portrayed yourself to be.
It was little things at first; almost not noticeable to anyone who wasn´t as observant as he was but once you looked closer, it was obvious. Things like how squirmy you got when you watched a movie that turned a bit more spicy then you expected, the books in your shelf you were sure he had no idea what they were about or how you seemed to preen once complimented about things as simple as cooking dinner for your night together. And that wasn´t even mentioning how you reacted once he had you in his bed, withering underneath his touches that managed to pull the sweetest of sounds from your lips!
But the reaction once he had absentmindedly called you a good girl for managing to follow his instruction on how to dance one of their choreographies was the ultimate give away. The way you froze for a second when the words had registered and how you had avoided his eyes for quite a few minutes until the heat from your cheeks had settled a bit and you were sure you didn´t look like a flustered mess.
He had been able to see right through it and had to ban the smug smile from his face.
´So, good girl hmm?` he thought to himself and saved that information for later that night.
And that’s how you found yourself on Jeonghan´s lap just a few hours later in his apartment. Lips clashing with his and tongues fighting for dominance while his hands were grinding your hips against his very prominent bulge. Soft breathy gasps brushed against his face and he bucked up into you in response.
With skilled fingers he pulled the shirt you were wearing over your head and threw it somewhere into the room, waiting to be picked up later.
Jeonghan grabbed the back of your neck to pull you in closer and quickly you found yourself pressed into the soft cushions of the couch.
“Are you going to keep being my good girl and let me fuck you tonight?” he let up and whispered into your ear, feeling you still in your movements. Jeonghan smiled his signature smile with his head tilted to the side and the tip of his tongue peeking out in between his teeth.
“Ahh, so I was right! You do have a thing for praise!” he teased and made you stare up at him like a deer in headlights.
You opened your mouth to defend yourself but all that came out was an unintelligible stammer.
The vocalist took great pleasure in your reaction and pressed a soft kiss to your nose.
“Don´t worry. I fully plan on making great use of that…”
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on-leatheredwings ¡ 11 months ago
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Sleepover
Yandere! Damian Wayne x (Fem!) Reader
romantic > summary: During a sleepover, Damian makes his first foray into infatuation. > word count: 1605 > [ a/n: i just love writing from the yandere’s point of view! Damian is 19 or college-age here. honestly not much plot, just musings~ i will try to write from the Darling’s POV next time hehe.]
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This must be love.
“Wow, Damian… I’ve never noticed but your nails are so pretty,” you compliment, satisfied with the boy’s upkeep. Damian feels his heart thrumming against his ribcage. You are holding his hand. 
Not for the first time either, but the thrill never fades. 
If this had occurred a year ago, before Damian learned of how casual (generous, even!) you were physical affection, he might have dumbly stated, “You’re holding my hand.” Instead, he simply thinks it, on loop, in one long string. 
You’re holding my hand. You’re holding my hand. You’re holding my hand.
Unbeknownst to all this, you simply paint his forefinger with a stripe of green so dark it looks black. 
“If we’re going to do this, it’ll be by my rules,” he had said. 
In reality, if you needled him any harder, he would’ve accepted pink nails with glitter on them. Who cares? There wasn’t anyone who dared to make fun of him at school. Not to mention, it’d be obvious to everyone that you painted them. You'd be marking him as yours, essentially. And at night… well, Robin wears gloves.
“Hn. How so?” Damian asks with feigned coolness. Mainly because he wants to hear you praise him. In your hushed, awed voice. When he dreams, you often sound like that. (And he quickly pushes that thought away.)
You look at him pointedly, grinning. Oh, he’s not so slick. You acquiesce to his whims anyway.
“Your cuticles are impeccable and your nails are finely trimmed… I’m impressed. Don’t you do martial arts, too? Crazy they aren’t more dinged up.”
Martial arts. That was supposed to explain his abnormal strength and fighting capability, the one time you saw him nearly break a man’s wrist for trying to pickpocket you. 
You accepted the excuse with only a little suspicion.
“It’s simple grooming.”
A catlike grin forms on your face. “Hm~ I don’t knowwww… Seems like you may be trying to catch the eye of a girl – you know, girls look at stuff like that.”
Damian frowns. 
He’s infatuated but not delusional. He’s aware this ‘sleepover’ is pretty platonic on your end. After nails, it’ll be skin care. Maybe you’ll even do your makeup and take goofy pictures with him. You’ll laugh and platonically huddle against him during a movie. You may doze off on his shoulder while he’ll be committing your every dewy, moisturized pore to memory. 
Because of Damian’s (self-admitted) social awkwardness with your peers, you think that gives you some sort of elder sibling-esque edge on him. You are the social butterfly, leading a naive, but well-meaning social pariah through the perils of young adult life. You don’t know you are so much more naive than he is, and he adores that.
Rather than addressing the question, he snorts. “When are you going to turn on the movie?”
You hum, completing his nail’s first coat. “Oh yeah, that’s right!” You grab the remote and press play. You continue painting, gingerly admiring his long, golden brown digits. Damian preens at the attention. 
As the movie plays, you pause often to look up and gape at the screen. It’s a horror flick, and boasts an abundance of cartoonish gore. While a bit more sensational than something he’d put on, he likes your dark taste. An annoying teenager gets their head hacked off with a chainsaw. You laugh and Damian feels his heart sing. 
There’s a chime that rings through Wayne Manor, and he has to bite back a groan.
“Pizza’s here!” you cheer. You begin to get up when Damian whips out his card in an instant. 
“I’ll pay.” To his delight, you gape in surprise, cheeks warming. 
“Oh… Thanks, Damian!” You never quite get used to him paying for things, but you at least know by now not to argue. You grab his credit card and – thank God – your fingers brush against each other. It sends the most pleasant trill down his spine. “Since you’re paying, I’ll go bring it! I won’t be long.”
A corner of his lips quirk. “I’ll be pleasantly surprised if it gets back to this room at all.” You stick out your tongue on the way out.
As soon as he hears your footsteps disappear down the hall – such clumsy, loud steps – Damian’s attention falls to the messenger bag you threw to the ground of his bedroom. He knows your diary is in there. (In his mind, he can hear you protest, It’s a journal!)
He’ll be quick. He flips open to a random page, and he already is laughing at your writing style. There’s little care for capitalizing letters and full of what you explained are “emoticons”, despite being handwritten. He flips to today’s entry, half-finished.
February 01. 
there’s a guy in class who’s pretty cute… one may even say HOT xP
Damian’s jaw tightens. He knows exactly who you’re talking about, and he won’t allow that neanderthal anywhere near you. At least, not again. Yesterday, you told him that your crush had smiled at you. Brushed fingers with you when passing papers. In the only class you have without Damian.
(Also, “your crush,” he scoffs. What a juvenile concept. You and Damian share something much deeper. His feelings for you are not so trivial.)
The semester is still young. Damian can pull any string to land himself in your anthropology class.
The rest of your entry for today (and the past days prior) isn’t anything notable except for when he’s mentioned. 
stressful day, but at least i have tonight with damian to cheer me up. he’s seriously the best …. i should tell him more often !!! (but it’d give him an even bigger head)
He doesn’t even attempt to stop the smile splitting his face. 
Damian’s keen hearing catches you striking up a conversation with Alfred in the kitchen. Despite your promise, he knows you will, indeed, take long. You love talking to everyone, even in passing. It’s an admirable quality, and one he envies.
He unlocks your phone and rifles through some messages of yours. He uses his own phone for documentation purposes. What else is there to do… He spies your jacket on his bed.
There is a shameful thought and Damian’s heart skips a beat. It is… frankly, it’s humiliating as a concept. Yet he’s enticed. It’s your jacket, after all. He brings it to his face delicately and inhales, almost shyly. Once he catches the familiar scent of your body wash, however, he allows himself to breathe it in. After being lost in it for a few seconds, he rips it away. 
Only to see his father standing in his doorframe. 
He knows what this looks like. Damian knows what this looks like. After years of working with the man, Damian can hear his thoughts as if they were his own, as they happen. 
Damian just smelled your clothes. Even if it was investigative in nature, he could’ve retrieved a sample some other way. Someone’s personal journal is open on the floor. A phone that he knows is not Damian’s is unlocked and displaying text messages. All these things are splayed out in a circle around him. It’s uncharacteristically messy of him, as well. Damian’s own phone is actively on his camera. Was he taking pictures? And most notable is the absence of you.
In summary? Damian must have some interest in you. And by this sloppy job, it’s quite emotionally charged. And at his age, it’s likely romantic.
Damian’s skin rises to what feels like a boiling heat. What is Father going to say? He can’t stop him – he can’t. Damian doesn’t even want to talk about it, let alone be reprimanded. A feral need to escape bubbles underneath his skin. Despite the panic, he channels years of League training and hardens himself. 
Bruce watches his son’s expression morph from dazed, to fearful, to steel, in real time. From Damian’s seat on the floor he offers his father only silent defiance. Bruce knows his son, his darker needs that stem from his cruel childhood. And perhaps he should’ve expected this to happen someday. Bruce exhales, eyes closing. When they reopen, his slate-grey eyes are firm and hard. 
“No one gets hurt.”
And by that, Bruce means no one dies. Because Bruce and Damian are Batman and Robin – they’re all in the business of hurting people. People who deserve it, yes, but it’s still hurt. Pain.
Damian feels immense relief. He wouldn’t have killed his father – he’s not that boy anymore. But a life without you seems similarly unbearable. Damian feels… shaken. He doesn’t know what he would’ve done. He also feels grateful, that it didn’t turn out any other way. 
His eyes drop to the jacket he holds in a fist.
“... Yes. Thank you, Father.” Bruce’s gaze lingers, but he leaves wordlessly.
This encounter reminds Damian of who he is. He is a detective, vigilante, assassin, and creature of stealth. He can’t be this careless, even if he knows you won’t notice. 
Damian returns your belongings to their place, exactly how you left it. Diary back in your bag, jacket to where you were lounging, your phone underneath a pillow, because you carelessly tossed it aside. You’ll inevitably begin to look for it and he’ll grin once he places it in your hand.
You finally return to his room, two pizza boxes of deluxe cheese (for him) and pepperoni (for you) in your arms. You laugh sheepishly. 
“Sorry for the wait, Dami.” His heart skitters at the nickname.
“It’s fine.” Your eyes glitter with excitement and optimism and purity. He finds it hard to look away, you raining down a gaze like that upon him.
“I was waiting for you.”
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