#time to unblock the tags finally

[raylin-creates]

FINISHED THE GAME!!!

You know a game got its hooks in me good even I don't trust I've truly reached the end until the credits have finished and I'm back at the title screen.

[gi-nathlam-hi]

aight I'm doing it. I'm watching the finale.

[4th-make-quail]

I FINISHED DATV!!! AHHHHHHH

Absolutely fucking loved it, clocked 95hrs total at the end!!

My one single MILD disappointment is the romance culmination scene, if only cos I swear bg3 has spoiled me SO MUCH that I was expecting sth on that level and length, BUT nonetheless I still loved it and it was very sweet!!

[adizzyninja]

Good Omens Season 2 ending with an MCU style teaser for Jesus Christ was not on my bingo card lmao

[justablah56]

OH HELL YEAH I CAN FINALLY ACTUALLY WATCH GOOD OMENS S2 LETS FUCKING GO

[wander-wren]

i just finally finished greywaren after getting it at the beginning of the year and starting it in march lmao. all i have to say is I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS SO MANY THINGS JUST CHANGED WHAT THE HELL

also what the fuck maggie cant keep doing this (this being declan)

[jadeneppy]

Uh

[copia]

?????????

time for sister imperator 4

[moyazaika]

Fangdokja baby, unblock me, will you? I just wanna talk :)

Genocide. Antisemitism. Concentration camps. White supremacy. Islamophobia. The klu klux klan. Conversion therapy. Pedophilia.

Listed above, my loves, are only a few of the topics FD hopes to write about when it migrates platforms and leaves tumblr. (I mean thank christ. baruch hashem. alhamdulillah. we're finally free.)

FD says quite explicitly and at length that she has been, in her own words, holding back from writing about such topics due to tumbr guidelines and not, as she makes sure to let us know multiple times and very explicitly so, because of a "lack of desire” on her own part.

Huh. Okay, interesting.

Say, FD, why have you been holding back on writing about the very painful and devastating realities that billions of people in the world face every single day as if they are trivial topics and fanfiction tags you have been permitted to use? :)

Maybe I'm missing something here. Fill me in, won’t you? Why could you have possibly been yearning to write about little kids in a sexual context? How did you put it? Ohhh, yeah;

Infants? So close! That’s actually CSAM babes!

This is not even about yandere content anymore. It’s about your sheer ignorance and prejudice which prevents you from seeing just how fucked up of a person you are. Jesus did not ask you to trivialise and sensationalise incredibly sensitive experiences and prejudices that you will never understand nor live through.

You know what your religion does say, though?

1 Corinthians 10:23 NIV; "I have the right to do anything," you say—but not everything is beneficial. "I have the right to do anything, but not everything is constructive."

Think on that, won’t you? :)

Let me end this by saying, as a dark content writer myself, I firmly reject the idea of censorship and pirating fictional content both when it is created and when it is consumed.

However, I'm also not a fucking idiot.

When adults use their critical thinking skills to separate fiction from reality, I'm all for the exploration/unpacking/interrogation of taboo topics. It is very dangerous to condemn people for what they choose to write as an expression of their artistic abilities or personal experiences.

Fiction ≠ Reality. This idea is nothing new, and rightfully so. Everyone should be able to write what they want.

But a Christian woman shamelessly expresses homophobia? Has said very clearly in the past that the reader inserts in her posts will only ever be written as being pale, skinny, teenagers in mind? And now she wants to turn around and say she's writing about topics like conversion therapy and racism and expects anyone to believe it's from a purely creative standpoint?

Omg baby you must think we're all as moronic as you :(

Your vendetta, FD, is clear as day, and your vindication is utterly disgusting.

I condemn you.

I condemn your content.

I condemn the 'creative freedom' under which you and your supporters will defend your ability to take the lived experiences of millions of queer people, transgender people, jews, muslims, survivors of vicious hate crimes, children, victims of grooming, disabled people, black people, brown people, asians, and survivors of genocide to turn into content for your bigoted anime porn blog.

Whilst I still firmly believe fiction does not equate to reality, I wonder whether you think the same. Every other belief except for your own is up for grabs in a taboo free for all.

So when you say nothing is sacred in fiction?

I wonder whether that’s true of your own God as well—or just everybody else’s.

[azulpitlane]

i love you, im sorry l fc43

summary: in which youre tired of your brother charles scaring off your dates, so you break his one rule—don’t date f1 drivers. you choose franco as revenge, but he doesn’t realize he’s being used and you don’t expect to fall for him.

tags: leclerc!reader, a bit of angst, DRAMA💜

notes: im still using my phone to post cause I haven't replaced my laptop lol so enjoy this draft. it was made during franco's rookie season so keep that in mind‼️

masterlist 1k celebration

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, francolapinto and 15,493 others

yourusername night out

view all comments

user picnic date??🤨

user is she soft launching omg

charles_leclerc why have you turned off your location?

user she just posted 2 seconds ago, how fast do you type😭

user baby leclerc is on a date aww

arthur_leclerc charles says to answer to ur phone asap

yourusername well tell charles he is one call away from getting blocked

user charles is an annoying older brother confirmed✅

alexandrasaintmleux 😍 liked by yourusername

user her brothers freaking out in the comments is killing me

user free y/n from charles

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f1gossip

liked by arthur_leclerc and 27,290 others

f1gossip Y/n Leclerc on Lily Muni's instagram stories today. Many believe she's Franco's guest for the Abu Dhabi GP.

view all comments

user SHES AT WILLIAMS GARAGE??

user seeing her outside of ferrari isnt right...

user IS CHARLES OKAY???

user and she was pictured hugging franco earlier today oop-

user and she finally followed him back on ig 👀

user arthur liked this so hes probably showing charles right now😭

user poor y/n is probably gonna have her phone blowing up rn

user knowing francos been lurking in her likes before he even became an f1 driver is so funny

user was not expecting this but im obsessed

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yourusername 📍abu dhabi

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 45,839 others

yourusername another gp, but different view this time

view all comments

user SHES SOFT LAUNCHING FR THIS TIME

user so who gave u those flowers🤔

francolapinto better* view this time

arthur_leclerc do you have a death wish?

charles_leclerc you are lucky the season is over.

yourusername CHILL OUT???

francolapinto oh...

alexandrasaintmleux i need a debrief

yourusername yes yes😋 lets meet up at our usual place for drinks?

alexandrasaintmleux yes! ill text u

charles_leclerc IM COMING WITH

yourusername pls do not bring ur bf with

charles_leclerc I AM ALSO UR BROTHER! AND UNBLOCK MY PHONE NUMBER

user charles crashing out while franco is probably hiding in some corner rn

charles_leclerc i am calling maman and demanding a family meeting. you better show up, im not playing games anymore!

yourusername "no more mr nice guy" ahh reaction

arthur_leclerc lmfao

yourusername what are you laughing at?

arthur_leclerc nothing damn!

carlossainz55 hey so your brother is on the verge of a heart attack

yourusername is that ugly vein on his forehead protruding rn

carlossainz55 yeah actually wow! ive never noticed that

charles_leclerc ?!?!

yourusername 📍buenos aires

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 34,324 others

yourusername my tour guide around argentina is pretty cute

view all comments

user oh mygosh i was not expecting the hard launch so soon

user just gonna patiently wait for charles comments now

user the hottest couple ever omfg

leclerc_pascale hope youre having fun ma chérie❤️ be safe!

yourusername i am maman❤️ ill see you soon

charles_leclerc MAMAN?!?!

charles_leclerc this is just unnatural.

yourusername there's something seriously wrong with you but we gon get you professional help i promise <3

landonorris remember when i looked at you for 0.3 seconds and charles barked at me

charles_leclerc you were ogling. not staring.

alexandrasaintmleux you two make an ugly pairing.

yourusername CHARLES GIVE ALEX HER PHONE BACK?!

alexandrasaintmleux no.

francolapinto your natural hair😍😍

yourusername 🩷

user wait this was cute-

charles_leclerc barf.

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yourusername posted a close friends story

alexandrasaintmleux if this is franco, i’m gonna lose it.

yourusername um… so it’s franco.

alexandrasaintmleux YOU WERE JUST TOGETHER THOUGH??? IN ARGENTINA??

yourusername yeah, so… i kinda joked that he should come to monaco if he was serious about asking me out.

yourusername and he actually did😀😀

alexandrasaintmleux y/n!!! i thought this was one of your schemes to mess with charles?? this is starting to sound serious?

yourusername I KNOW AND I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO.

yourusername i thought he was just some fuckboy who wanted to sleep with me since he’s literally been flirting with me since day one, but now he’s saying he actually wants something serious.

alexandrasaintmleux oh my god. im actually speechless right now.

alexandrasaintmleux does he know the real reason you agreed to a date in the first place…

yourusername … no.

yourusername but in my defense, i didn’t think he’d take it seriously!! i thought he was just messing with me like always, so i went along with it to annoy charles.

yourusername and now he’s out here being all sweet and genuine and saying he actually wants to be with me and i think i might be in trouble.

alexandrasaintmleux 🤨🤨you’ve accidentally fallen for him, haven’t you?

yourusername …no comment

alexandrasaintmleux oh god, I'm nervous on how this is gonna end

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yourusername

liked by francolapinto, leclerc_pascale and 49,352 others

yourusername maman and i got a new chef and he was 1/10 would not recommend

tagged leclerc_pascale, francolapinto

view all comments

user so they're actually the only couple ever!

user maman leclerc approves aww

arthur_leclerc wow even I feel betrayed, am i being replaced?

user the leclerc men are so dramatic i'm crying

user wait I CAN CALL HER MY FAVORITE WAG NOW😜

lorenzotl beautiful ladies! so sad i couldn't make it

charles_leclerc excuse me?!?? am i not apart of the family anymore where I don't get invites😒

arthur_leclerc i didn't get one either...this hurts

charles_leclerc i've honestly run out of things to say

yourusername good cause he's coming to maman's birthday party

charles_leclerc WHAT

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yourusername posted stories

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[some-pers0n]

Finished Chapter 4

FINALLY GOT DELTARUNE HELL YEAHHH!! WHOOO!! Time to spend 20 hours straight playing it

[b33zlebubz]

six months | simon riley

you accidentally ask your ex for a ride home after six months no-contact tags: vomit, themes of ptsd and depression for both characters, alcohol, angst, fluff, soft simon

It’s raining.

Your hair pulls on the concrete whenever you adjust uselessly, tugging at the bottom of your dress so that you could sit on the ground in a way that won’t leave bruises you won’t remember.  Balance clumsy as you sink against the stone and press your face against the soothing coolness of the bricks.  Listen to the music that still pulses inside and try to imagine what your friends are doing, dancing and drinking.

Your phone slips onto your lap, the blue light obscenely bright against the dim, dingy alleyway and incandescent street lights.  A text conversation pulled up and untouched for months suddenly dinging with updates.  You barely realize you texted him to pick you up until you get a response to your drunken gibberish, short and sweet.  Three little letters that bring more relief than you’ll ever admit.

Omw.

You’re surprised he’s able to read what you sent.  You sure as hell can’t, from the combined effort of the rain and the dumbness of your fingers.  And maybe some part of you would be fond of the fact that he had replied so fast, kept your number unblocked.  Hadn’t just ignored it like he probably should have.  Hadn’t discarded you completely.

Six months.  Six months since he said he’d never marry, six months since you left.  Time went by faster when you weren’t staring at your phone callender aching for his return.  Waiting by the front door of your shared apartment like an anxious puppy when he was late to return, as usual.

Maybe it was muscle memory, tapping his contact.  Maybe it was subconscious.  Either way, you couldn’t go back on it now.

You hear it before you see it.  That same old sleek, black car rolling around the block and stopping some ways in front of you.  There’s a headache blooming in your skull and your hair is slick against your face whenever you open your eyes to the sound of boots.  

He’s there, in front of you.  Kneeling down in dark jeans and a darker T-shirt.  More tattoos up his arm than you remember.  A fresh, diamond-shaped one—stark against the faded sleeve of his forearm.  A more sober you would have at least pretended not to stare, not to rake your eyes up lean muscle and tall stature to the permanently tired, grey-ish eyes of Simon Riley.

“You’re a mess,”  He grunts, and his velvet, smokey accent really shouldn’t make your chest warm over as much as it does.  Unearth memories and feelings you thought you packed away with the rest of your belongings whenever you moved out of his flat.  

You huff, glance away.  “Mess is an understatement.”

“You alright?”

You hum thoughtfully, reaching a dumb hand up to rub at your face.  You’re not.  You’re really not; not with him finally within arms reach.  Not when nausea claws distantly in your throat and your brain feels like it's been knocked loose in your skull.  But, as always, you lie.

“Yeah,”  you breathe, and your voice is hoarse from yelling and singing.  You curse yourself for drinking so much.  Curse yourself even more for asking him to come pick you up; you wanted this interaction to be something else.  Coffee, maybe, or a few drinks at the bar.  Talking.  Reminiscing.  Discussing what led you to split in the first place; his job and your loneliness.  Not getting baby-sat because you partied too hard and your ride got too drunk.

“Why’d you come?”  You mutter, voice hoarse and slurred, and even to you it sounds pitiful.

He huffs in response.  Quiet.  Barely a breath and a twitch of his lips, but it still happens.  Maskless, eyeblack still stained around his exhausted eyes.  Stuck to his blond eyelashes and caught in his brow.  He must have just gotten home from whatever he’s been up to the past few months, you probably don’t want to know.  It might make you want to stick around more than you should.  Make sure he’s alright.  That he’s eating and sleeping.  You’re probably the only one alive that knows he struggles, coming home and adjusting back to civilian life.

Simon reaches out, warm hand tenderly holding the side of your face and wiping away runny mascara.

“Because you called,”  he says, genuine.  Without an ounce of the annoyance you somehow expected, although he’s never once been annoyed before.  “Can you stand?”

You swallow again,  “probably not.”

He shifts.  You watch as he shuffles closer, snaking a large hand under your knees and the other around your back.  Lifting you with no visible effort other than a stifled grunt, tucking you close to his chest.  Careful not to jostle you too much as the movement makes you dizzy and you clutch hard at his bicep.  Hide your face in his collar and shut your eyes tight as your head swims.  Try to focus on the pulse between his ribs. His shirt smells like cigarettes and old leather, something distinctly him.

“Your heartbeat is fast,”  you breathe.

Simon's boots splash against the puddles on the street.

“Mm,”  he hums, adjusts his hold on you.  “A little.”

“Why?”

He pulls the door open with a finger and sets you down carefully in the passenger seat.  Gets you situated.  Something about it shoots a distant memory through your brain; wrangling a wet German Shepherd into your old car.  Thunder rumbling across the sky.  Driving home with a very relieved Simon in the backseat, curled up and rain-soaked with the dog he thought he lost forever.  

That was the first time you met.  Spotting him dejectedly along the side of the M62 motorway, leash in hand.  Trying to find his dog Riley who had jumped from his car in the midst of the worst rainstorm you’ve seen in years.

“‘Was worried,”  he confesses, low and sincere.  “Reckon you’d have to be real desperate to ask my sorry ass to get you.  Thought I'd have to beat someone up."

Hurt wells, hot and upset, through your chest.  Makes you clutch his shirt a little tighter as he gets to his car, even if he did intend for it to be a lighthearted joke.

“I’m sorry,”  it’s genuine.  You don’t exactly know if you’re apologizing for not staying in touch, the argument before he left, or bothering him in the first place. Either way, the apology is genuine.

He smiles.  Warm, tired, sad.  Much like he would whenever you’d drop him off at the airport or when he’d climb into bed after his return: sore, exhausted, and apologizing.  Something you like to think is reserved for you, although you know might be wishful thinking.

“S’alright, love.”

The drive itself is quiet.  You press your face to the cool of the window and let your eyes shut.  You’re still shivering from the rain despite Simon cranking the heat up.  A part of you is glad for it, it gives you something to zero in on.  Keeps you from vomiting in his car as you listen to the rain tap against the windows.  Watch the city lights come and go as he navigates traffic carefully.

“Where to?”  He rumbles.

“Same flat,”  you slur.  “The one on 8th.”

He sends a glance your way.  You meant to leave the city after you left but with money so tight you haven’t had enough time to go looking, so you moved back into the apartment complex you inhabited before the both of you got together.  Easy, cheap.  Sketchy neighborhood but close to work.  Small, but you never needed a whole lot of space, anyway.

He doesn’t comment on it.  Just flicks the turn signal on and takes you home.  You’re a little grateful.

Simon carries you inside.  Still avoids that one stair that is higher than all the others.  Still ducking his head down just a little under that one doorway he hit his head on once.  Water drips from his clothes and taps against dusty linoleum floors, boots squeaking as he sets you down carefully outside your door.

By the time your shoes hit the floor again, it seems to contort and dip underneath you.  Your heartbeat pulses in your ears and hands shake as you fumble for your keys.  Swaying as you clumsily press them into the knob and turn.

“Hm,”  Simon huffs, blinking at the familiar, dark, empty living room around him.  “Looks exactly the same.”

You barely register his comment before the lump in your throat grows unbearable, barely hearing what he says.  Stumble across the room to the bathroom just in time to collapse by the toilet and retch a night of drinking, painfully, into the bowl.  It hurts.  The kind of vomit that only happens when you go too long without eating before having a drink.  The kind of sick that carries a thick kind of shame with it—a kind of oh no, I’m getting bad again.

Simon's at your side in an instant, a roll of paper towels under one arm and a glass of water in the other.

“Bloody hell, easy,”  comes his voice as he wipes at your face, fuzzy and distant behind the headache that pounds in your skull.  You breathe and it burns down your irritated throat as you lean your head against the porcelain. Let him fuss over you as you recover.

“Fuck,”  you curse yourself as the sobriety of throwing up brings with it a massive wave of clarity.  You run a shaky hand over your eyes, swallow thickly.  “I’m sorry, Simon, I—”

“It’s fine."

“I shouldn’t have texted you,”  you continue, voice cracking as you grimace.  “Should’ve just walked home or Ubered or something.”

He sighs,  “love—”

“I’m a fucking mess and I really didn’t want to—”

“Stop,”  Simon finally says, stern but never mean.  You shut your mouth tearfully.  Look up at him with that look that he knows all-to-well by now; from date nights he had to miss to disappearances without goodbyes.  Nights you needed him to stay but he couldn’t because the job needed him more.  When he shot down your suggestion of getting married because he didn’t want you in harm’s way should anything happen to him.

He wasn’t mad when you got tired of it, when you broke the news that you were packing up and leaving.  Left his flat jarringly empty and made his life outside of the Task Force a lot quieter.  A mediocre partner at best, really; he should’ve expected it.  Too tired to do much and too messed up to love you like you deserved.

He wasn’t about to leave you hanging here, too.  Wouldn’t.  Couldn’t.

“I’d rather me pick you up than some creepy bloke,”  he tells you, tone almost somber.  He runs a warm hand comfortingly over where your dress exposes your back.  “You’ve sat beside me while I puked too many times.  ‘Bout time I returned the favor.”

That gets a weak scoff out of you.  A twitch of your mouth just barely visible through the dark of the bathroom.

“This feels a little more pathetic, though,”  you breathe.  “At least you can hold your alcohol.”

“At least you made it home,”  he smiles.  “I wouldn’t have moved.  ‘Woulda spent the night sleeping against that building, most likely.”

You chuckle a little at the thought and he shifts, taking you into his arms again.

“You gonna get sick again?”

“No,”  you breathe, eyes drooping.  You swallow and it tastes like bile, but the tightness in your throat is gone.  “M’good now.”

He hums, but you barely hear it.  Letting the world fade into black just as he carries you down the hall.

You don’t remember much else.

The next time you open your eyes, you’re in bed.  Warm, golden sunlight settles in through the cracks in your blinds and irritates your eyes.  He somehow got you out of your dress last night and into one of the large T-shirts you’re always wearing to bed, wiped off most of the makeup on your face so that only stubborn mascara dots your pillow when you turn over.  Tucked you into all the blankets he could to ward off the worst of the rain's chill. It's the most care anyone has shown you in a while.

There’s water on the nightstand, your tumbler damp with condensation. Two red ibuprofen pills next to it.  In front of your messy side table, on the floor, is Simon.  Blond head perched up on an extra pillow, softly snoring away as he sleeps on his stomach.  Fresh tattoo on display thrown over a light blanket from your couch.  

For a moment, you blink at it.  Confused by the jarring difference in it compared to his others; all dogtags and fire and death.  A diamond with a landscape of a rainy highway inside, a road sign the main focus. A breath fills your lungs as you realize, then, what it is.

M62.

You stare at it for longer than you’ll ever admit.

[webslingingslasher]

i’m not having a good time

-‼️

*something quick... cw: mentions of death.

---

''i'm sorry i didn't get to make it up to you.'

and now he never will because he's dead. peter parker is dead and he didn't get a chance to make it right with you. your knees kissed the grass, sobbing while you hold onto his stiff shoulders you whimper out your own apologies.

sorry you were so mad, sorry you punished him more than he deserved, sorry you didn't get to spend forever with him, sorry that you let him die without knowing he'd never be able to make it up to you.

he's bloody. small grazes and cuts decorated his skin, you're not sure what happened or how you got there but peter's last words on earth was an i'm sorry. you curl up on him, pathetically pleading him to stop playing and open his eyes.

peter's chest is still. he's not breathing, his heart isn't beating. he's dead. every regret you've had over the last month started to eat at you. when you blocked his number, when you'd ignore his attempts to try to talk to you in person, when you punished him over and over for making you break up with him.

'peter, please wake up. please, please, wake up.' you're not sure how cpr works but you're trying. pushing on the center of his chest with all your weight, nothing happens. you gasp for air, the panic attack finally hitting.

you watched peter die and you couldn't save him.

'peter, wake-' you fly up from your bed, fighting off blankets, you're sweaty. your clammy skin cools instantly, wiping under your eyes, it's wet from tears. you're still blinking them out, falling with each tremble of your breath.

it was a dream. a terrible, vivid dream. you've never woken up crying before, you've never dreamt of peter dying either. it wasn't real but it feels real. it felt like real life. it looked so real.

a shiver runs up your spine, more tears fall. you couldn't stop your shaky hands, digging for your phone. you pull up instagram and unblock his account- he hasn't posted in weeks. whispering out a curse you sniffle and check his tagged posts- nothing new there either.

what if he actually died? what if that was him telling you goodbye? what if he never gets to make it right?

you need to hear his voice, you need him to tell you he's okay and he's alive. brushing away a new track of tears you unblock his number and call, keeping an eye on your sleeping roommate and trying to keep your cries hushed.

it rings all the way through but he doesn't pick up.

you try again.

again.

again.

again.

again.

again.

again.

why isn't he answering? peter always answers, even if it's the middle of the night. what if he actually died? what if he was in bed and he'd never wake up? what if the house was full of red and blue lights and a team of professionals gameplanning how to get a body bag downstairs?

it's illogical, you know peter isn't dead. you know he's passed out and lightly snoring into his pillow. peter's breathing and he's  fine but that dream was so real... you can't let it go.

your knees shake when you get out of bed. shrugging on the warmest thing you can find, you silently escape your dorm and walk with a purpose to peter's place. ten minutes of crushing anxiety while you pray for a call back.

---

'trouble?'

it's three in the morning and someone was pounding on the front door. peter wasn't expecting to see his ex in front of him. he even rubs his eyes for good measure, you're still there.

you stare at him in awe. running your eyes over him four times, checking off an imaginary checklist. he's here, standing in front of you. confused as all hell- but he's alive. he's breathing. he's not dead.

but fuck, it felt so real. so, so real.

you naw on your bottom lip, trying to hold everything in but peter's alive and all you can think about is when he wasn't. the panic you felt was real, the regret was real. tears build in your eyes, it's not enough to see him, you need to feel him.

'what's wrong?' peter's voice is soft, he can see the impending breakdown too. your mind tells you his last words, your throat feels tight.

'i'm sorry i didn't get to make it up to you.'

shaking your head, tears race down your cheeks. they won't stop, your chest shakes and you're able to mumble two words before losing yourself and rushing peter with the tightest hug you've ever given him.

'you're alive.'

peter stumbles but holds you up, he doesn't know what's happening.

'i am.' you whimper, moving your head around to cup your ear right over his heart. 'your heart is beating. you're alive.' are you saying it for him or for you? peter doesn't think you showed up in the middle of the night, in tears, just to let him know he's alive.

'did you think i wasn't?' peter holds in a grunt, your hands twisting into his shirt, squeezing the fabric before letting out a soft sob. you inch the cotton up, cold hands press into his stomach. he's warm. he's not stiff. he's alive.

but those crushing minutes when it felt like death, when it felt real, keep looping.

peter's calmly drags his hand up and down your back, stopping to pat at a particularly hard cough. normally, during a breakdown like this peter would tell you that you're okay and he's there but he switches the lingo this time.

'i'm okay. i'm alive and you're right here hugging me.'

'say it again. promise me.' you feel peter take a breath, you almost collapse. he's breathing, he's alive. 'i promise i'm okay, i promise i'm alive.'

you hold your breath to stop more tears- peter's okay.

'i had a dream you died. and it felt so real, i tried calling you but you wouldn't answer so i had to come check. i needed to make sure.' there were a lot of pauses to get it all out, your breath kept hitching but peter was patient and kept you right over his heartbeat.

'i'm sorry,' you wince hearing it come from his mouth. 'tarrent kept drunk texting me, i put it on silent.' but he'd never do it again. no matter how many texts and articles he gets sent about the flat earth society.

'you died.'

'no i didn't. i'm right here, want me to pinch you so you know it's real?' you know it is but confirmation doesn't hurt. 'yeah.' you back away and hold out your arm, jolting when peter squeezes your skin between his fingers. 'see? not dead.'

no, not dead.

he's in front of you and you showed up in tears. you went to peter's house in the middle of the night to check if he was breathing. you broke up with him but needed to know he was still alive.

you feel silly and turn to check the streetlights, you can feel peter looking at you.

'this is stupid. i knew you were fine but it felt real and i was crying and-'

'you needed to see me.’ you weren’t going to say it but peter did.

‘logic wasn't working because the what if was so loud. for months after my uncle died i'd get up in the middle of the night to make sure may was okay, so i get it.' peter wasn't making you feel bad so you shouldn't make yourself feel bad. he understands you. he knows that part of your brain that can't shut up, he's heard it too.

'yeah.' you know what happens next, you just don't want to say goodbye yet. peter offers something you didn't expect. he nudges out of the doorway and nods towards the inside.

'sleepover?'

you shouldn't. it was one thing to show up, it's another to stay.

'i can't.'

peter wants to tell you that you could. but he knows you won't. you'd think of it as losing, you don't think he deserves your company. he doesn't, but he still wants to show he cares.

'will you let me walk you home?'

you hesitate, it's probably not a good idea. but neither was showing up for a welfare check. even if he's not yours anymore, you like knowing he's okay. it's backwards and a little telling if you say yes but after your nightmare you'd be sorry too if you didn't give him a chance to make it up to you.

'you can walk me home.'

'really? you'll let me?' you wanted to ask if he expected a no but you don't. 'yeah, really.' the door seals shut as you walk down the steps and peter's right behind you.

following your lead. 

[cowboyellies]

- Bad Habit | e.w.

were you not not too good for me, my dear?

funny you comeback to me my dear

PART TWO OF "You're Not Good enough"

pairing: college player!ellie x fem college!reader

warnings/themes: angst!!!, ellie is v emotionally unavailable (my type <3), she's a teensy bit manipulative, reader mentions past toxic relationship, slight mention of ellie's past trauma, lots of jealousy, small amount of abby x reader (sorry abby), reader is kind of stupid (just like me fr), slight mentions of violence, small amount of smut (just a heavy make out)

word count: 3.8k

synopsis: you finally end things with ellie and months later you couldn't feel any better. ellie on the other hand is losing her mind without you. when she sees you at a club one night on a date with another girl, she's determined to get you back no matter what cost.

a/n: I didn't originally plan on making a part two but a few people asked so here it is! I hope you enjoy (below I'm tagging everyone who asked for a part 2)

 🏷 🏷 🏷: @shortcake22341 @harrysslutsstuff @robinismywifee @gizzzi

you and ellie hooked up three more times before you finally called it quits. for real this time. seriously. you blocked her on all platforms and even started avoiding spaces you knew you would see her at. 

the final straw this time for you was the fact that the third time you were hooking up she got a text from another girl during, and she answered it. once she finished sending her text back she rolled over to resume eating you out but you were already grabbing your shit and bolting for the door. that wasn’t the first time ellie williams had humiliated you but you made a promise to yourself that it would be the last. 

now it was two months later, the longest you’d gone without seeing her in about a year. you no longer thought of her, for the most part. there were times where you longed to unblock her number and go crawling back. but you didn’t. you finally felt actually single for the first time in forever and it was exhilarating. you now could do whatever you wanted, hook up with whoever you wanted without feeling the weird guilt and shame ellie left you with every time you’d walk out of her apartment. and now that your spring term had ended you were most certainly using this freedom to your advantage. 

ellie on the other hand was losing her shit. the night she fucked up again was actually a misunderstanding this time. yes, she did receive a text to hook up while you were fucking each other. and yes she did answer it. but it was only to tell the girl to fuck off. she tried to explain that to you but you had already slammed the door in her face before she could get the words out. 

she had tried everything she could think of how to get you to talk to her, even stooping so low as to show up at your door, begging for you to open up. this actually might have worked on you if she hadn’t gotten your apartment number wrong. you two spent most of your time together at her place so she ended up scaring the living shit out of your elderly neighbor mrs. flenderson when she showed up knocking on her door at one a.m. drunk.

now all she could do was sit alone with her feelings which she hated. she hated knowing she cared about you and all this time apart was just giving her more time to think about it, so much so she even began fantasizing how she would confess her feelings for you. she drafted long speeches in her head for different ways she’d make you hear her out. 

when the opportunity to actually confess arrives, things don’t go as smoothly as they do in her imagined scenarios. 

the night you two finally see each other again you happen to be on a second date. the first second date you’ve been on since you started seeing people again. you had become accustomed to your one night stands but something about this girl drew you in. abby and you had met through a mutual friend and you actually got along really well. she’s funny, kind, doesn’t seem to share the same emotional incapabilities as your exes, and she’s pretty fucking hot. 

your night starts out amazing, she brings you to a club where she happens to know the owner, getting you past the entrance right away and straight to the bar, where she showers you in free drinks and many, many compliments. you flirt and laugh and blush like you haven’t in a while and you realize what you really want to do is dance. as you’re on your way to the floor, that's when you see her.

ellie’s at the entrance of the club with her two friends you vaguely know, dina and jesse. you stare at her for a few moments, taking in the features you had tried so desperately to brush from your memory. her auburn hair is shorter and you can tell from the rolled up sleeves of her black button up that she got more detailing done on her tattoo. her head starts to turn towards your direction so you suddenly switch positions with abby, moving so if ellie looks your way she’d only see your back. 

“is everything okay?” abby asks, leaning down towards your ear so you could hear her over the loud music. you nod and try to continue dancing as if nothing is bothering you, which is hard to do considering that you suddenly feel the urge to vomit. abby doesn’t seem convinced so she pulls you off to the side of the dance floor, luckily away from where ellie had gone to sit with her friends. “are you sure you’re alright, you look a little green,”

“yeah I’m fine!!” you insist, trying not to give ellie the power to ruin your night like you’d done many times before. “I think I’m just a little lightheaded,” you say, hoping it’ll make her drop it.

“oh shit, let's go to the bar and get you some water,” she replies, frowning in concern, grabbing your hand to lead you back there.

“no!” you suddenly shout, knowing that’s where ellie’s sitting. “no um- I just really like this part of the club! do you think you could just bring some for me over here?” you ask, even though the “area of the club” you’re referencing is just a dark corner near the bathroom next to a trashcan. 

abby looks at you questionably but eventually turns and does what you ask, probably figuring you definitely need it now. once she’s gone you start plotting how you can make your escape from here without ellie seeing, hopefully not further ruining your date. you know you’re being immature and that grown ups don’t hide in corners from their exes, but you’re pretty tipsy and you never claimed to be a grown up. 

a minute after abby leaves you see dina and jesse make their way to the dance floor. before you can even think to conceal yourself, dina makes eye contact with you and you notice her eyes widen in recognition, which makes you realize ellie had definitely told her something about your breakup. while that made you go into further panic it also made you pause. when you first met dina it was when you and ellie had run into her at a coffee shop the morning after one of your sleepovers. ellie had introduced you to her as “a friend” even though you’d been hooking up for four months at that point. if ellie had gone from that to now confiding in dina about your messy break, it made you think about how much your split had actually affected her. 

as you see dina move to go and tell ellie about you lurking in the shadows, abby starts to walk back in your direction, glass of water in hand. now you’re screwed. there’s no way you can convince abby to leave before ellie comes to find you.

while you’re being overcome with sudden doom, ellie from the other side of the room feels her heartbeat pick up in a way it hasn’t in months. as soon as dina had muttered your name she jolted out of her seat. now as she makes her way over to you, confident to win you back, she notices something dina hadn’t mentioned, her.

abby stands next to you brushing a hair behind your ear, gently stroking your shoulder as you down the glass of water she brought you. ellie feels a sudden rage flow through her whole body. just when she thinks she’s getting you back she sees you with another girl. this is different than with the couch girl from the party who was just gonna be a random fuck, she can tell from your body language you’re already getting comfortable with her beyond that. she stops suddenly a few feet in front of you, causing you to choke a little on your water. 

as you’re now standing face to face with ellie you notice that familiar jealousy plastered all over her face. as much as you know you have nothing to be guilty about, you can’t help but start to sweat a little as she resembles the look of a rageful girlfriend. you realize that’s exactly what abby might think she is as you look up to see her shocked expression. just as you’re about to explain, ellie beats you to it. 

“can I talk to you?” she asks, more of a command than an actual question. 

“no!” you shout back over the music, hoping that will send her away but knowing from past experience it won’t. 

“who is thi-” abby starts before she’s cut off 

“I’m ellie. who the fuck are you?” she yells, turning her direct attention to abby for the first time.

“her date, who the fuck are you? are you two-”

“NO!” you yell, wishing you had opted for the dinner and a movie date you previously discussed. “let’s just go!” you yell, at this point you weren’t even focused on salvaging your date but instead on getting the fuck out of there. 

“I need to fucking talk to you please,” ellie begs stepping in front of you, this is different than the last time at the party, you’ve never heard her voice sound so desperate. 

“she said no, back the fuck up,” abby shouts, pushing ellie a little on her shoulder. before you can say anything, that small little push turns into ellie flinging her fist into abby’s jaw. you knew she had a temper but have never seen her actually fight someone until now. the two of them begin full on fighting and instead of doing the honorable thing and trying to pull them off of each other, you simply leave. you know doing this pretty much guarantees no third date with abby but you can’t really find it in yourself to care. you’re so over with this night and the constant shit show that is your love life so you find yourself just exiting the club. 

they don’t notice you’re gone until a few minutes after, around the same time the security begins showing up to pull the two of them apart. before they can restrain ellie she makes a break for it, bolting after you towards the door. 

she finds you a few blocks away sitting on the curb waiting for an uber. you notice her shadow looming over you and you turn your head up to face her, groaning once you see her bruised face.

“ellie you’ve done enough, can you just please leave me alone,” you plead, the weight of the night’s events finally starting to hit you, making you feel exhausted.

“i’m sorry, I can’t,” she replies, lowering her body to the curb next to you. you look at her confused for a few moments, realizing that’s the first time you’ve ever heard her use the words “I’m sorry”

“why?” your voice cracks and your eyes starting to brim with tears on impulse. you aren’t sure exactly why you’re crying but it’s making you feel small and stupid. 

“you know why,” she replies, unable to give anymore. after all this time she spent building speeches, she still found herself scared to say the actual words.

“no, I don’t ellie. I have no idea why you treat me like this,” you reply, the tears beginning to spill on your cheeks. “I don’t know why you act as if you don’t give a shit about me but still can’t let me go, you never fucking tell me why,”

her heart is racing now. she knows if she doesn’t say the right thing she’ll lose you for real. this is the last moment she can avoid her feelings or she’ll crush yours once and for all. 

“It’s because I-” she starts at barely a whisper, her eyes beginning to water. “its because I fucking care about you!” now she’s almost yelling, the words escaping her mouth like a sob. “and I haven’t felt this way in a long time and it fucking terrifies me,” you look down at her hands and notice they’re shaking. you want so badly to hold her but a part of you stays restrained, knowing after everything she’s put you through you can’t just grant her forgiveness that easily.

“you don’t think I’m terrified too? ellie it took me a long time to get over my ex and you know that. but I didn’t dump you on your fucking ass the second I started to get feelings for you. and I certainly didn’t text another girl in the middle of us fucking!” the memory of that night starts to overcome your sympathy for her, replacing it with anger instead

“I texted her back to tell her not to message me again, and I tried to explain that to you and you wouldn’t let me. I know i fucked up and had shitty timing but you have to believe that I would never hurt you like that,” she was fully pleading now. you had never seen her so much as shed a tear and now here she is baring her soul. 

“ellie, you know I want to trust that but why should I? you’ve done nothing but give me reasons to believe otherwise,” you’re sobbing now too, your face turned towards the pavement in front of you watching your tears drip on the floor. you feel her fingers gently pull your chin upwards to look at her again, you notice a complete sense of somberness in her eyes now, this could possibly be the last thing she’d ever say to you.

“I know you don’t have any reason to believe me but you have to know that I…” she pauses for a moment to collect herself. the three words on the tip of her tongue were something she hadn’t said out loud in over five years. “I love you. okay? and I know I have a shitty way of showing it but I do,” 

out of everything she could have said to you that was the last thing you were expecting. you had known for a while that ellie had rejected that feeling because of something that had happened in her childhood which she never could fully tell you about, and you weren’t sure if she was even capable of it anymore. it’s at that moment where you know for certain she’s not just saying all this to get you in her bed. 

you’re truly looking at her now, the two of you facing each other with tearfilled eyes not able to say anything. this is when ellie finally breaks out the material in her fantasy speeches. “I love how you look when you’re sleeping, you get this cute half smile on your face when you’re having a good dream. and I love how obsessed you are with pickles, even though you refuse to eat a cucumber which I have explained to you many times is what pickles are made out of-”

“they’re not the same and you know it,” you interrupt through your tears. you had always wanted a big love confession like the one she was giving you, filled with specific facts and details, you said so while watching when harry met sally after one of your first hookups, you were shocked she remembered.

“I love how you never let me finish my sentences,” she replies with a smirk, her cockiness beginning to return after the intense few minutes of vulnerability. “I love how you do that thing with your lips when you’re cum-”

“okay you’re done now,” you stop her, a blush beginning to take over your face. you were starting to forget that at the beginning of the night you hated her guts and were likely going home with another woman.

“are you sure? I have a lot more,” she teases, you know the rest are all sexual. you realize after a moment of silence you never told her you love her back, and you realize you aren’t sure if you even do. obviously you still have strong feelings for her, otherwise you’d have already stormed away from her by now. 

as you’re about to say something to break the silence the uber you’d ordered earlier appears in front of you. you look up at her and contemplate what it’ll mean to invite her in with you. is it still stupid to fuck her after one night of seeing her again? does the fact that she loves you make a difference in that? 

you aren’t really sure and you don’t care. you pull her yourself up from the curb, dragging her along with you towards the backseat of the car.

–

after a tense fifteen minute uber ride which consisted of the two of you trying your absolute best to keep your hands to yourself and spare the sweet little old man driver, you finally arrive at your apartment. you’re now the one dragging her towards the elevator, recreating the same passionate makeout against the metal walls as the time after she cornered you at the party. the only difference being the fact that now you were no longer shoving down feelings of regret and shame. 

after you exit the elevator and you’re opening your apartment door you hear her laugh at the unit behind you, mrs. flenderson’s apartment. 

“oh my god ellie, stop,” you whisper shout at her, remembering the fear in the little old lady's voice as she told you about ellie’s drunken escapade. “she has heart problems, you could have killed her!” 

you feel her arms reach over your sides, gently resting on your stomach as she begins to lean into your neck “are you jealous thinking about me confessing my feelings for another woman?” she teases, the embrace making it harder for you to open your door.

“no ellie, the thought of you trying to seduce my 78 year old neighbor does not make me jealous,” you reply with an eye roll, finally managing to open the lock. as soon as the two of you are inside she’s pushing you up against the door, her lips trailing all over your body, desperate to show you how much she meant what she said earlier. 

“you have no idea-” she says in between kisses. “how hard it was-” she’s gripping gently at your hair now, her eyes traveling up and down your body, taking you in fully for the first time in months. “to see you dancing like that with someone else,” you think about what she’s saying for a moment, the memory of abby making you trail your fingers down a bruise she had left on ellie’s cheekbone. you realize then that you could find it in yourself to forgive ellie for using you, because that’s exactly what you inadvertently had done to abby.

you pull her towards you by the jaw, her ear just centimeters away from your lips as you whisper “good.” you figured if you had accidentally used someone to make her jealous there's no harm in using that to your advantage now. you see ellie’s jaw tighten a little and her lips are back on yours in seconds, this time harsher than before.

you make your way to your bedroom, her hands on you the entire time as you’re leading her there. when you reach the bottom of your bed you begin to sit but you feel her pull you up, her hungry hands clinging to the fabric of your dress around your thighs. 

“look at this pretty little dress,” she mumbles while running her hands up towards your breasts, the skin tight fabric clinging to you in all the right places. “you got all dressed up just for her,”

you roll your eyes at her jealousy but deep down the pool of heat in your core was growing stronger. she responds to your eye roll by yanking the dress down your arms. she then makes her way to the clasps on your bra, unhooking it and throwing it to your floor. she begins kissing you again, starting at your neck and trailing down towards your breasts, a moan escaping you as her mouth met your nipples. instinctively your hand grasp onto her hair, clinging to the roots as she laps at your skin. your grip on her hair tightens as your pleasure increases when she stops suddenly.  “could abby’s tongue make you feel that good baby?”

you’re about to reply when she breaks away from your skin, now firmly pushing you towards your mattress. as you lie back she begins to take off your dress completely, staring down at you cravingly. unable to stand the lack of her lips on you, you’re suddenly sitting up and pulling her down towards you, gripping at the fabric of her shirt as her lips are crashing down on yours. 

“somebody’s eager,” she teases, smiling in between kisses. as you’re making out you begin to feel her remove your hands from her neck and pinning them to the bed above you. you lean up towards her to continue your kissing when she pulls back, the sudden lack of contact causing you to let out a small pathetic whimper. she laughs at you and begins to take you in. her eyes linger over your mussed hair and pink lips that are wet from her kisses. “you’re so fucking beautiful,”

this comment catches you off guard. ellie had never said anything like that to you before. yes, she complimented frequently while you were together calling hot and gorgeous especially when you were on top of her, but this was different. this was more intimate. you smile brightly beneath her and use all your strength to lift yourself by your elbows to deliver one frenzied kiss onto her lips, plopping your head back down on the bed afterwards.

you realize then that the hot jealousy filled sex you two were headed towards had begun to change. all thoughts of abby, of any of your collective exes, or anyone else in the world for that matter have disappeared. this is about you and her. 

she resumes kissing you, this time gentler, and you think back to the last time you had slept together. after your breakup every time you fucked was more feverish than the last. that sex was a dirty little mistake you couldn’t stop making, and you made sure to make it as quick and emotionless as possible. now as she’s on top of you, slowly stroking your hair as she moves her lips across your neck you are overcome with a sense of closeness for her that you had been trying to repress since the night she broke your heart on her dingy old couch. 

“ellie,” you whisper, her mouth slowly detaching from your skin as she adjusts herself to look at you. 

“yeah?” she asks, moving a chunk of hair near your face behind your ear. 

“I love you too”

[tigerpeachs]

Late Night - Megumi Fushiguro

-`ღ´- tags: 18+, fem reader, smut, a little angst, dubcon (consent not given but mutual intentions), pwp, cum shot, choking, fingering, alcohol consumption, praise

-`ღ´- wc: 1.5K

-`ღ´- a/n: I didn't edit this and this was 100% a "write it even if it's not your best work" fic. I'm trying to produce shorter works and feel better rather than stressing over a bigger project. Anyways. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

-`ღ´- synopsis: After a night of drinking you decided to unblock and visit your ex.

Fuck. Fucking fuck. You shouldn’t have unblocked Megumi. You shouldn’t have smiled as your drunken fingers danced over his contact info. You shouldn’t have spoken so casually to him on the phone. And when you showed up on his doorstep, squinting your eyes to concentrate through the liquor disorienting your body, you thought this would be just a fun accident.

You liked to play dumb. You waltzed right in, placing your bag in its normal spot, bouncing as you tried to settle yourself on his large sectional couch. You know the endless questions would soon approach you but you decide to concentrate on haphazardly kicking your shoes off. Yet instead of questions you were met with silence.

Your senses clicked back in for a second.

You were dead wrong.

You couldn’t concentrate. Not through the rush of teeth clashing against each other, not through him pulling at your clothes, tugging your top down and unbuttoning your jeans in record time. You didn’t even think to kiss him back from how quick he was to take his lips away. You wanted to gasp for air, but the only thing you could do was let out an urgent whine of his name.

And when he finally reached inside your pants and ran his fingers up and down your cunt, you felt embarrassed. You didn’t realize how soaked you were until he finally touched you. Megumi’s tongue ran across your nipple before he sucked at the skin around your areola. His teeth scraped against the skin causing you to tense up, then two large fingers slid inside you.

You couldn’t think properly. A wet clicking noise filled the room as he pushed his lengthy fingers at a proper pace in and out your pussy. He’s stretching you out, ignoring how your gummy walls tempt him. They keep sucking his fingers in and his cock jumps at the thought of being inside you. Your eyebrows scrunch together while you pull at him.

Megumi moans before leaning in for another kiss. It’s bruising. It almost hurts with the amount of pressure he’s putting on you. The sensation of his tongue rubbing against yours causes you to clamp down on his digits.

“Fuck,” he slips out, trying to work against your tightness. He pulls his fingers away and stands above you. You swallow hard. You forgot how strong and rigid he is compared to you. In height and frame. You look up at him through your wet eyelashes, trying to steady yourself as if it’ll make up for how embarrassed you are from your constant moaning and neediness.

He doesn’t give you the grace of reveling in your newfound confidence. He takes off his clothes, and you remind yourself that you came here. You called him. You’re not completely submissive in this role. And so you opt to undress yourself as well, standing up from the couch once you’re completely bare.

The flame of assurance you had is blown out instantly as his daft fingers clasp around your neck. Your hands immediately jump to his wrist to alleviate his grip, but he doesn’t ease up.

He leans in, pressing a slow and deliberate kiss against your lips. As you open up your lips, he swirled his tongue inside your mouth, possessing your whole body and causing your thighs to press together. A moan leaks out from the little space between your tongues.

“Did you miss me?” he finally speaks to you. You only offer him a dead stare as your mind swims with a possibility of answers. You don’t want to say yes. Not like this. Not while he has you pinned right where he wants you. And so you try to lean in again, only brushing your bottom lip against his before he presses you away by your neck.

“Be honest,” his tone is soft even though his grasp is hard, “tell me the truth.” You can feel your resolve crumbling the longer you stare into his deep blue eyes. Those warm feelings you shamed yourself for came rushing back to the surface. The emotions you’ve struggled with before, the ones you wrestled with late at night - they would burst at the seams the longer you tried to constrict them.

You let it flow out of you.

“I…” Your voice sounded hoarse, completely foreign to your ears, “I missed you…” The words came up lower and lower the further you got in your statement. He relaxed his hold on you, pressing his forehead to yours with his eyes closed.

“I missed you, too,” He admits without any hesitation. It causes your skin to warm up again. A series of kisses were placed gently from your forehead to your lips. The pace felt slower. His pecks soon became deeper, and his hands slid to your breast, gently tugging at each nipple. You reveled in the moment, allowing him to play with your body as he pleased. He switched between kissing your lips and caressing whatever skin he has access to, taking his time. The harsh bites turned to soft nips. The bruising kisses turned into fleeting pecks. It made you feel more inebriated than when you walked in.

He pressed you down into the couch, helping you lay on your back before he slot himself between your thighs. You couldn’t help but look down at his cock. It was gorgeous. You know it sounds ridiculous but from his tip to the heedy veins running down his shaft, you couldn’t get enough.

It brushed gently against your clit, causing you to shudder from the contact. You scooted your hips up, wanting him to catch against your sex again, only for him to raise himself a little. Teasing. You couldn’t allow yourself to openly whine for him. No matter how bad you wanted him inside of you. The little internal battle showed across your features.

“Hey,” the internal debate you held ceased momentarily, “Just concentrate on me, okay?” He presses a kiss against your temple before bracing his forearm beside your head. He uses his other hand to lead his cock against your entrance. Little moans spill from you as you feel his cock tease you. He slips it up and down your slit, pressing in a little each time, but not breaching your entrance.

You wish you could rush him. You wish you could tell him to hurry up. That you need him. Right as the thought crashes into your mind, his tip pops inside your hole. A loud moan pours from both of you. You meet his eyes and he nods. He feels it too. The stretch and pressure immediately bubbling inside of you. He feels how good you feel.

Megumi doesn’t hesitate to pump his full length inside of you, not pausing to bottom out. He missed you for too long. He missed you clutching onto him. He missed you being resistant and almost bratty towards his advances. He missed you playing coy with him. He missed how fucking good sex always feels with you. And he knows you’ll never admit it, but from the drunk look on your face, and the way your legs are tight around his waist, resisting him pulling out, conveys your feelings enough.

“Oh my god,” You whine as he speeds up. You feel like he’s churning your insides. You can hardly concentrate as your cunt teeters between clamping down around him and pulling him deeper inside of you. It feels like a rush of adrenaline and warmth at the sametime. Your body can hardly adapt, tears threatening to spill over your lash line. As if it was possible to save some dignity, you shut your eyes and turn your head to the side. Only, he nips at your neck from the action.

“Stay with me,” He grunts against your skin, causing you to open your eyes. Once you look at him again, you seize up. His gaze is strained but his eyes are so warm. You feel like you're drowning in him. A smile graces his features as he continues to pound into you.

“There’s my sweet girl,” You stomach flips, something builds inside you at the admittance. His pace becomes more brutal, hips slapping against yours, but you’re too concentrated on his gaze to care. The sensation boiling inside you grows, and you can feel your body begin to curl in on itself.

“Megumi-Hnn!” You cry out as your orgasm washes over you. He basks in your juices, groaning as he continues to fuck you through each rolling wave of tremors. You feel as though you can’t catch your breath, pulling in gasp of air as lightning shoots through your body. Lost in the pleasure, you don’t even recognize that he’s been jerking off to the sight of you. Not until his cum paints across your stomach and breast.

While waiting for the feeling in your body to return, he wipes at your skin with his shirt, cleaning you from his mess. You try to find the words to leave but once again he cuts your thought process short.

“Come on, up to my room,” He leaves his hand outstretched to you. You look up at his eyes for a minute. Things seem so easy when it’s little moments like this.

“It’s okay. Just come up… please?”

And you feel yourself reaching for him once again.

[gurugirl]

Please tell a little about what BFD!Harry and yn are up to🙏

best friend's dad!harry x you

bfd!harry masterlist

a/n: quick little blurb! this is to connect with what i've got coming in the next update!

453 words

. . .

Well, lately you've been contemplating on reaching out to Fae because you want her at your baby shower. This baby will be her half sibling and you want Fae in your life. She doesn't even need to buy you anything! You just miss your best friend. The closer you get to your due date the more you think about her and how close you two had been before you slept with her dad. Before you started lying to everyone. To her.

So when you log into Instagram and realize she's unblocked you (when did that happen?) you feel like this is your chance. You send a simple hi and wait.

You tell Harry about it later when he comes home from work and he's massaging your feet and legs on the couch.

"Oh really?" He says. You can tell he's thinking about that and probably wonders if she's unblocked him from texting her. He'd love to be able to talk to his daughter again.

When you're brushing your teeth and getting ready for bed later that night you look at your phone when you get a notification from Instagram and it says: Fae Styles reacted 👋 to your message.

It's not much but it makes you drop your toothbrush into the sink and open up the message immediately to make sure you weren't seeing things.

"What is it?" Harry's hands on your hips as he looks over your shoulder and peers down at your screen. He sees what you're seeing and it's silent for a few beats.

You can't help yourself when you begin to type i miss you.

Harry pulls your back into his chest and puts his big palms on your pregnant tummy as you both watch the screen on your phone together. He's just as surprised as you are but this is good. This must be a good sign.

But she doesn't respond. Not right away. Harry talks you into putting your phone on the charger and giving it a rest for the night after you've stared at your screen for who-knows-how-long. You know she's seen the message and she still hasn't blocked you so that should be enough for now, Harry tells you. One step at a time.

Harry helps you tuck into bed, stuffing soft pillows behind your back to keep you slightly elevated to help with your indigestion and sore back.

"Try and get some sleep, Y/n. Okay?" He kisses your temple and brushes his hand over your tummy and you nod at him, closing your eyes.

What you don't know yet, as you've finally allowed sleep to take over, is that you'll wake up with a message from Fae in the morning.

i miss you too

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