#watched this movie with The Girls last night and by the end of it i was totally feeling this fuckass bob

[rcvcgers]

Rotten Apples

pairing: caleb x non!mc reader

synopsis: you've always hated her. you live your life free from her and caleb. a stranger helps save you from a date gone wrong.

word count: 5.1k words

warnings: extreme loathing, kinda funny, kinda sad, a good mix of everything! mentions of death. not proofread!

author's note: hi! this is my first lads fic! it's lowkey a mess and is all over the place, but that's okay! i hope you all enjoy! <33 please feel free to comment! i love any & all feedback! <33

edit: part 2 will be coming soon! thank you for all the love on this! i love & appreciate every single one of you!

You never thought yourself to be a hateful person, but whenever you saw Caleb with her, your heart boiled. His smile was always the brightest with her. He always handed her the first water bottle after a run around the neighborhood. His eyes were always on her and not you during study hall. They shared giggles with one another and you were the last to know the joke as you filled out blank homework pages. Whenever she walked into a room, he jumped to her side and aided her with whatever it is she needed.

And she always needed something.

Your friendship with Caleb and the girl you deemed a she-devil blossomed from a young age, having been next-door neighbors with Josephine. You are older than her yet still a few months younger than Caleb, which meant that the two of you had to look out for her.

She was naive in many ways. She always trusts people too easily and is quick to help, not knowing that the world is cruel and is out to hurt her. It’s something you and Caleb bonded over; taking care of her was something you had in common with him alongside planes, absolutely loving apple pie, and always wanting to be the last one tagged during recess.

However, those childhood days have long passed and you’ve settled into a draining routine where you played a background character in someone else’s life.

When you and Caleb reached freshman year of high school, you were sure that he was going to ask you to be his date to the homecoming dance. Instead, you were surprised with the revelation that he was going to stay home and have a movie night with her since she wasn’t in high school yet.

Despite his compliments about your dress, he snuck back inside his house when you asked him if he needed a ride to the dance. She was waving him back inside in the background and he couldn’t have been happier to watch My Little Pony or whatever bullshit she had lined up.

You basked in his frequent compliments when he met you outside your home, when she wasn’t around. Caleb always knew what to say when you had a saddened frown on your face.

“Did James turn you down? I thought he liked you! You’re a catch!” Caleb’s warm words reached your ears and made the butterflies in your stomach flutter. At least he knew then that you were worthwhile. If only he wasn’t so blind to what you had to offer to him.

At least you had a year of high school alone with him. You two even shared a few classes together and had planned study nights to prepare for final exams! Huddled at the desk in his room, you could smell the sweet apple scent of his shampoo and were able to hear through raspiness of his chuckle right next to your ear.

It was fun until she came inside his room, claiming that she wanted to help you two study. That plan lasted for about ten minutes before she whined and complained that she wanted to watch her and Caleb’s favorite show. That night ended up with her snuggled into his side while he stroked her hair. You held the chip bowl, not by choice, and watched as your crush on the boy next door began to deteriorate.

When she finally joined your and Caleb’s high school, you bit your tongue and held back the deplorable comments that shuffled through your mind about his so called beloved. You even held back comments to your new friends about his relationship with her. You knew that if you ever said anything bad about her, he’d come to her defense and shun you for what you’ve said.

It never mattered how you felt. It didn’t matter if you were having a bad day or had just embarrassed yourself in front of your entire gym class when Becky threw a ball right at your face. His attention will forever be owned by her. You’ll never get to know how it feels to always be under his cautious gaze nor will you ever be a recipient of his charming smile.

Truth is, you used to be friends with them. The perpetual third wheel to all of their escapades and adventures. You used to be close to them but as time moved on, they grew closer together and you, well, just didn’t fit into their equation anymore. The funny thing is that they have no clue of their wrongdoing towards you nor did they realize that you had left their group entirely after months of sitting in your room, filled with nothing but discontent as you scrolled through their posted selfies together.

You thought you set yourself free from them. It’s better to watch from afar instead of up close, no? It spares you more heartbreak and it, very selfishly, keeps you away from her.

You can stay away from her smiles. Her laughter. The way her dark hair falls into the perfect messy bun while yours just looks plain erratic. Not to mention the way her hands always lingered on him while you watched, helpless from the other side of the lunch table.

And you can finally break free from that stupid nickname he has for her.

“Hey!” You hear a friend’s voice from over your shoulder. You turn and smile at them, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “Are you ready for the game against the Rams tonight? I heard you’re starting!”

Before you can reply, you hear a thud behind you. Glancing over your shoulder, you notice that Caleb leans against the metal lockers. His arms are crossed over his chest and he wears that stupidly charming  grin on his face.

“You have a game tonight? Why didn’t you tell us?” He asks. Her smile falters.

Us. That damned word.

“It’s not a big deal,” you shrug, placing your leftover books inside the locker. “You two are usually busy anyways doing…whatever…so it wouldn’t have mattered if you knew or not.”

Okay, maybe there is some venom in your tone and malice in the way you throw your books into your locker. To be fair, you’re so fed up with them ghosting you and never showing up to your games that you can’t help but let some of your anger out.

“Woah!” Caleb pushes off the locker and holds his hands in the air. You roll your eyes and slam the locker shut, walking away. He quickly follows and matches your hellish pace. “What’s wrong? You’ve been so distant lately. Me and—”

“Don’t,” you bark. The two of you pause in the middle of the hallway, your eyes locked on his in a heated glare. “How long do you think it’s been since I’ve hung out with you two?”

A look of confusion flashes across his face. You have to stop yourself from looking at the way his face scrunches up, the way his tongue pokes about between his lips while he thinks.

“Hm…like a month?” Caleb’s words are genuine, you know that, but it shatters your heart to know that he doesn’t even realize it’s almost been a year since you two hung out, let alone were in a room together.

“A month?!” You scoff and look away. A laugh filled with disdain and shock escapes your lips. Your hands drop to your side, tightly balled into fists, as anger washes throughout your body. “Caleb, be real with me right now. Do you truly think it’s been a month?”

You want to give him a chance to redeem himself, for him to own up to the mistake he’s made. Everyone deserves a second chance, right?

“I do, yes…” he wearily says. Your nostrils flare, cheeks heating with irritation.

“Hey guys!” Her cheerful tone scratches the inside of your brain. You sharply inhale and close your eyes just to open them to the side of her attaching herself to his side. “Are you okay? You look angry,” she remarks and gently places her hand on your shoulder. You immediately slap it away. The tips of your fingers tingle from the smack.

“Hey! What was that for?” Caleb steps in front of her, pushing the teen girl behind him.

You cross your arms over your chest, eyes narrowing up at Caleb, who guards her from you.

“Just fuck off and leave me alone!” You snap, pushing past them, your shoulder bumping into Caleb’s bicep. 

“Wait!” Caleb’s voice rings in your ears. A flash of hope makes your heart flutter.

Is he going to chase after you? Will he finally ditch her and see how you’re feeling for a change? Will the old Caleb come back, the one that actually cared about you and your feelings?

Your feet hesitate, pace drastically slowly, still in earshot of the other two’s conversation. You can hear his footsteps coming after you, going from slow to quick, but they suddenly stop.

“She isn’t worth it, Caleb,” her voice shoots any semblance of hope you felt, ripping your heart into shreds. “She’s so mean…she doesn’t deserve your care.”

The hallway in front of you turns glossy. You use the back of your hand to wipe away the tears that brew in your eyes. Your once reluctant pace hastens and you disappear down the hallway, becoming just another face in the crowd.

The year passed and you graduated with a new group of friends; friends that welcomed and invited you with open arms. Your camera roll was no longer sad, filled with empty selfies with her and Caleb not paying attention in the background, shifting to group photos and friends completing the other side of your hand heart. It filled your heart with the joy and happiness that your previous friendships lacked.

And most importantly of all: you were completely over Caleb and didn’t have to spend any more time around her. It’s a relief for you, really, and you’re able to go to the college of your dreams and pursue the career you wanted. 

The saddened memories no longer pained you. They no longer dug into your skin. Instead, you planted them into the soil of your mind, using the special fertilizer (the special ingredient being resent), and grew from them.

So what if they wronged you? You were now free and didn’t owe either of them a damn thing! That is, until Caleb died.

The news nearly broke you. Your mother informed you of the news when you came home for a visit. You were on a much needed break from work and were looking for a chance to relax. Your time of relaxation was quickly turned inside out.

You became a shell of yourself, the last memory of Caleb haunting your mind as you holed up in bed, covers covering the entirety of your body with a small hole for clean and cool breathing air. Your cheeks became perpetually stained with tears, becoming sticky in your sleep before the cycle started all over again.

The day of his funeral was unnecessarily rough. Your mother had to drag you out of bed and help you into the shower, the hot water turning cold from the amount of time you stood there. Once you stepped out, body trembling from the cold air, you stared at the black dress that was laid out across your bed.

It was simple. It stopped mid-thigh and the sleeves ran long down your arms. You paired it nicely with tights from high school, a pair that Caleb complimented you on, and a pair of simple booties.

She was the center of attention, of course, there was no doubt about that. The ache in your chest left you feeling conflicted. She sat alone, head hung low, as people walked by, chuckling as if they weren’t at a funeral reception.

You almost felt bad for her and the way her mascara streaked down her cheeks. She clung to a piece of metal in her hand, occasionally bringing it up to her lips to kiss it.

The distance between the two of you felt like a game of cat and mouse. She took one step forward, you took one back. She entered the hallway you found recluse in, you made sure that there was room in the closet for you to hide in.

You thought that you were able to slip out unnoticed until she called out your name.

“Hi…” your voice falls off. Her fists are balled at her sides, knuckles white.

“What are you doing here?” Her words are sharp, effortlessly slicing into you. “I thought you hated him.”

“I could never hate him…” the words barely come out, just above a meek whisper. She doesn’t say anything else. All she does is stare at you with her heartbroken expression, eyes strained and red from the sobs she let out earlier.

A part of your heart broke for her. The other part remained emotionless, knowing how she tormented you in your younger years by dangling Caleb in front of your face. It tormented you to know that you could still hold a sliver of resentment in your heart for something that happened so long ago. You quietly left, leaving her alone in the hallway, disappearing behind a familiar turn.

A year passes. The hatred you held in your heart has dissipated. You’ve watered the flowers you planted in your mind and the petals read off messages of forgiveness and second chances, even though you made sure to never run into her ever again.

Some people can forgive and forget, but you’ll be sure to forgive and keep a distance.

Skyhaven isn’t too bad of a home. Sure, there’s barely any trace of organic life throughout the city, except for the token tree the mayor decided to add about two months ago, but it’s a nice place to live. You’ve made yourself comfortable. The nightlife is great and the rain is even better. You even made some friends at your job and have gone out on a date or two with a guy who is very attentive.

But none of them are Caleb.

You stare at yourself in the cafe mirror, shaking your head. You fix your disheveled hair, wondering how you managed to spend the last ten minutes digging up the past when you’re on a date with a very cute guy. You bite your lip and tweak the last details of your outfit, flattening out a wrinkle in your skirt.

Pushing the bathroom door open, you glide down the hallway, smiling at the other customers who pass by. You can finally go back to…what’s his name again?

Jared? Clyde? Marc, who always emphasizes that there’s a ‘C’ at the end of his name instead of a ‘K’?

You clap your hands together when the name comes back to you. He jumps in his seat, his eyes closing in on you when you sit down. His smile is a little too goofy, missing out on any kind of charm that he can capitalize on, and you can’t help but watch out of the lower half of your vision as he itches his crotch.

“Thanks for waiting for me, George,” a warm smile spreads across your lips. He matches it and leans forward, pushing a colorful mug in your direction. You watch it closely before drawing it closer to you. You don’t take a sip, though, instead letting the whipped cream on top of the coffee melt. You sigh.

You don’t even liked whipped cream on your coffee. You know who would have remembered that?

“It was no problem at all!” George proudly proclaims. His chair scraps across the wooden floor. He inches closer and closer towards you in an attempt to close the distance but you scoot away from him, keeping a pleased smile on your face.

“So, what were you saying you do for a job?” Your question goes straight to his head. Gnawing at the inside of your cheek, you refrain from interrupting him about his long ramble about how he works as a “video game consultant” at a local game store.

The conversation is so painful to sit through. You glance between his beady gaze and the clock on the wall behind him. The ticking hands somehow move slower when he dives into his day to day routine. Maybe the whipped cream isn’t as bad as you previously thought.

An hour goes by and you have barely been able to get a word in. Mugs form into a half-circle in front of you. Your leg bounces up and down, hands jittery. Even your blinking is rapid as you solely stare at the clock.

“That’s enough about me. Tell me about yourself,” George grabs his glass. He ordered a cream soda at the beginning of the date but the cream separated from the colorful soda water, forming into chunky clouds.

“You know what,” you breathe out in a laugh, signaling over your shoulder to the door, “it’s getting late. I have an early start tomorrow so I should get going.” You stand from the chair and snatch your tiny purse from the seat beside you.

The cafe is practically empty now and the sun has set hours ago. You rush towards the exit, the route to the door feeling like it never ends as Greg — oh shit, George! — chases after you. 

The Skyhaven night is nice and crisp. The rain isn’t as hard tonight, just a mere sprinkle, and you rush out into the open, taking a deep breath. The chilled air fills your burning lungs and you’re able to breathe again, that is, until George grabs your hand. You gasp and snatch it back from him.

The raindrops lightly kiss your face but George’s sickening smile makes you want to hurl. He creeps towards you, the moon shining just bright enough for you to see the darkness form in his eyes.

“I have to get home, George!” You nervously chuckle, turning away. You rush towards the nearest bus stop, knowing that there will be other people there to take refuge with. George doesn’t let up though and his movements become more primal and animalistic as the seconds tick by.

“Come on, sweetheart,” George beckons from behind. You can hear his ragged breath from behind you grow close. You brace your body for impact…but nothing comes. Instead, you hear a struggle from behind. You swirl on your heels and stare at the scene behind you.

A tall man pushes George away from you. The moonlight reflects off of the shine of his coat, the top of his hat deflecting the light raindrops. You stagger backward, heart racing inside your chest, as George crumbles to the ground, a blur of red, grey, and blue pushing down on the man.

“She said she’s going home,” the voice growls. It itches the back of your mind, calling to you like a faint memory. “Leave. Or I’ll crush you right here and now.”

The voice beckons to you from the back of your mind, putting it at ease. The voice calls out your name followed by a throaty chuckle. It asks you how you’re doing, if you need help with that week’s math homework. You can also hear his voice apologize to you for forgetting about your plans to go to the movies with your group of friends, making some excuse that she got locked in the attic and needed rescuing.

The moonlight turns dark, the floating rock covered by a cloud, as the figure slowly approaches you. The once soft droplets of rain evolve into hardened projectiles, the wind picking up from all around you. With the weather matching your quickly escalating mood, you march through the rain, the phantom chasing after you.

“Hey! You’re getting soaked!” His voice calls from behind. You pay no attention to it.

The voice sounds exactly like a dead man! A person who is resting in peace six feet under and couldn’t possibly be here in Skyhaven.

You reach the bus stop and hide under the small covering, the rain pounding against the top, rolling off the sides. You hold your arms to yourself and your teeth clatter on the inside of your mouth. You have to tell yourself to not look at the man beside you.

Stranger danger, after all.

“Why are you ignoring me?” The man asks. It’s just the two of you at the bus stop. The stop’s light flickers, adding to the already ominous feeling that forms deep inside your chest. You hug your arms to your body, providing the only warmth in this cold night. “Oh, I get it. You’re mad at me.”

“I don’t even know who you are!” You retort rather quickly, finally looking up at the man.

You gasp and stumble backward. He quickly reaches for you, his large, warm hands gripping your waist, stabilizing you.

He looks down at you with an irresistible and charming smile. His purple eyes seem to glow under the dim lighting. He wears a black and orange rain jacket, black baseball cap sitting on his head. He cocks his head to the side, gaze drifting to memorize your face.

Nausea sweeps over your body. You tear your gaze off of the phantom before you. The cold air pricks the inside of your lungs, rapidly moving in and out of your system.

This can’t be real, right? He cannot possibly be standing in front of you, alive and well, with that damn smile on his face. A single tear rolls down your cheek, your lips parted. Your breath flows out of your mouth in gentle plumes of steam.

“Caleb?” Your voice falters. He chuckles, smoothing down your frizzy hair.

“The one and only! C’mon, you can say it: you missed me!”

You reach out, grabbing his arms, squeezing him. His brows furrow, eyes training themselves on your hands as you poke and prod various parts of his body. You grab his cheeks, pulling on them before squishing his face. He gently takes your hands into his, moving your hands away from his face.

“You done yet?”

“You’re alive!”

“I am well aware of that, yes.” His laugh fills your ears and your heart swells.

Even after all these years of forgetting Caleb, you still end up swooning for him the moment he saves you from Landon.

Or was it David? Eh. It doesn’t really matter.

“How…what…” you stammer, unable to form a cohesive and coherent sentence. Caleb sighs and takes your hand. He flattens your palm against his chest.

How heartbeat is slow and steady…it’s there. You gasp, bottom lip trembling, legs slowly becoming jelly.

Tears freely flow down your face as the realization of his existence sets in.

He’s alive.

He’s here.

He’s breathing.

His last memory of you isn’t you ending your friendship and avoiding him for the rest of your senior year of high school.

You collapse to your knees, hand digging into your chest. A sharp pain slices into your chest as your fingernails dig into your skin in an attempt to grab your heart and to scream at it to calm down. The pounds from your heart makes your ears ring, drowning out the endless pitter patter of rain. Even your lungs feel as if they are on fire, unable to suck in and inhale the oxygen that you need to survive.

Your eyes open and Caleb’s face is right in front of yours. You can hear him speak but cannot make out a single word that he says. He gently helps you back to your feet.

“Take it easy,” his words seep through the sound of your heartbeat, “breathe.”

His hand slides to the back of your neck, warming your body, and his thumb gently grazes the side of your neck. You inhale through your nose, holding it for a few seconds before slowly exhaling until all of the air is out of your lungs.

“Does she know?” the question pops out of your mouth before you can stop it.

How could you even ask that at a time like this? You should be seeing if he’s okay! If he’s in any sort of trouble that you can help get him out of.

Did he fake his death? Has he been alive this whole time? When was he going to come see you?

Caleb sharply inhales through gritted teeth, pulling away from your face. You watch him closely, bottom lip trembling.

You know. You know the answer.

Of course she knew before you! She is his beloved, the one person he will spend the rest of his life with. It’s laughable to even think that you stood a chance against her.

“Actually,” you interrupt him, covering his mouth, “don’t answer that. I really don’t want to know.” Even though every fiber of your being screamed blood murder at you to figure it out.

Is he dating her? Has he ditched her for good? HAs Caleb finally come to the realization that she isn’t some angel that came down from the heavens.

His purple eyes blink at you, perplexed by your actions. Caleb speaks into your hand but his voice is a mere muffle. You sigh and look out at the pouring rain.

You need to get home.

You need to get home and get away from him.

You need to relieve yourself of any memory, item, or scent that can remind you of him because, well, he clearly isn’t yours to have.

If you stay any longer, you’re going to end up crying in the rain, unloading all of your emotions onto him. And Caleb, who has risen from dead, doesn’t deserve to hear any of it. He’s innocent in all of this and no matter how angry and resentful you can feel towards him, you’ll never be able to hold it against him.

“Get home safe, Caleb,” you breathe the words out, slowly releasing your hand from his mouth.

You push away from him and bare the thundering rain on your own, hugging your jacket to your body. You sprint across the street, desperately needing to get away from him.

Caleb watches you with wide eyes, captivated by the woman you’ve become.

You’ve lost all the baby fat in your cheeks. Your hair is longer and is styled to perfection.

You’re bolder. Funnier, even, whether it’s intentional or not. Caleb laughed at your jokes in the cafe, particularly the ones that George didn’t find funny.

Whatever. He’s an idiot.

He heard your laugh from inside the cafe and got drunk off of it. He found himself smiling wider than he has before in the past year.

You took his mind off of his stressful job, which he just came back from, and relaxed his body. He didn’t think about how ling he stayed in that damned tunnel nor did he think about his connections with Ever.

Your laugh turned off the fight or flight switch that perpetually stayed on inside his head. It did pain him, though, to know that you were out with other guys. This George fellow is not your match. He’s a Sul-indulgent prick who only talks about himself.

And what the fuck is a video game consultant anyways?

His job is nothing compared to being a Colonel in the Farspace Fleet. You’ll surely be impressed with that.

You did always say you loved a man in a uniform.

His purple eyes flicker with excitement. He steps out into the rain and follows in your exact footsteps. Once he’s across the street, he turns around and stares at the cafe you two once sat in.

She walks out with her friends, umbrellas covering their heads. They smile and laugh with one another, teasing as thunder booms in the background. He chuckles at their umbrellas but his smile quickly fades when he realizes that you didn’t have one.

Silly girl. Now he has to check in on you and make for sure that you don’t catch a cold.

His gaze drifts to her but the spark he once felt isn’t there anymore. She’s…boring now. Caleb tilts his head back and laughs.

How could he have been so blind?

His focus has been on her all along but you…you are something else.

Captivating. Intoxicating. Enchanting. Hilarious. Fascinating.

Your fruity perfume formed a tent in his pants. Have you always smelled like apples and cinnamon? You encapsulate an autumn evening. Suddenly, he loves it when the leaves change colors and fall from the trees. He’ll never let you fall ever again.

Caleb doesn’t know how he let you slip through his fingers so many times. You live in Skyhaven, too, right under his nose. He should have found you sooner.

He should have gone with you to the homecoming dance. He regrets not watching you during the countless games you’ve invited him to. He should have closed the door in her face when she petered you two when you needed to study for the math exam. It was never your best subject. Lucky, he excelled in it.

And he should have fucking gone after you when you told him to fuck off all those years ago.

But now?

Now Caleb’s going to take back the time he missed out on. Surely, you’d feel the same way when he comes back? After all, he does know where you live now.

Six floors up. The fourth room from the left. You have a stained glass butterfly hanging in your window. He’ll see it up close soon enough.

He stands outside your apartment building with a bright smile on his face, staring up at your bedroom. He can see you move throughout the living room, your shadow painted against the far wall. His eyes follow as you slip into your bedroom. You look out the window.

What are you looking at? I’m here. Show me anything. Give me the signal I need to come and save you.

You turn on a lamp. The light points up to the butterfly, illuminating the blue and orange colors from the glass.

You’re so thoughtful.

How did you know those are his favorite colors?

Caleb chuckles to himself, shaking his head. His feet carry him to the entrance of your apartment building, just barely sneaking in as a couple leaves. He thanks them and sneaks to an elevator, stepping inside as he presses the button to your floor.

Thank you for the signal, he thinks to himself, I’ll be there soon.

[maskedmenmakemeferal]

Daddy Daughter day

As you and Simons daughter -Lily- gets older, the more he mourns how she was when she was young. She was all bright eyed and would cling to Simon every change she could.

But now, she’s 14 and that once close relationship is crumbling away.

Now, it’s not like she’s a bad kid. She gets good grades and is always respectful to you two. She’s just…..not as eager to hang out with Simon.

After another Friday night of her hanging out with her friends, Simon’s at home stewing.

There’s a rerun of Lily and his favorite movie and now he’s too pissy to enjoy it. He’s grumbling something along the lines of ‘Im too sad to watch it’.

You roll your eyes and smile. “Si. You know Lily loves to spend time with you. Just not like how she used to.”

“‘Ts bullshit, birdie. She doesn’t even want to go to car shows w’ me.”

“She never wanted to. She hated going to those, but she knew it made you happy.”

He furrows his blonde eyebrows in disbelief. ‘No way.’ He thinks. ‘His best memories with his daughter couldn’t be due to her wanting to please him.’

“Come on, Si. You just need to do stuff that appeals to 14 year old Lily, not 7 year old Lily.” You gently rub his shoulders.

So, that’s how he ended up at the mall with Lily, 200£ and a goal to spend time with his daughter.

She flits around from store to store, blabbering about the things in them.

Simon couldn’t care less, but now it’s time for him to suck it up and deal with his boredom.

They eventually end up at the food court and he gets some pretzels. He hands one to Lily, who chose a table towards the back.

Eventually, after a few minutes of awkward silence, they see a poster for their favorite movie from when she was a kid.

Standing right in front of it are her friends. She looks away, worried they’d spot her hanging out with her dad.

“Wha’s wrong?” Simon squints a bit, knowing she’ll try to bullshit him.

“Nothin’. Jus’ thought I saw someone I knew.” Simon looks over at her friends.

“Worried they’d see you with your ol’ man, eh?” Even though his voice sounds joking, it isn’t. He is really hurt over feeling like an embarrassment to his kid.

“No, no. It’s just….their dads are kind of…..pricks. And I don’t want them to be upset I have such a cool one.”

Simon can tell she’s fucking with him on this. Sure, he’s met her friends dads and they are kind of assholes, but he definitely isn’t cool.

“If ya’ so embarrassed ‘bout hanging out with me, go.” He gets up and walks away. People move away from his fuming form like he’s on fire.

He gets a ticket for that movie, a last ditch effort to remind him of a simpler time. He sits down, crossing his arms and having a small pout on his lips.

The cheesy comedy movie begins and it doesn’t help. He still feels like an asshole. He knows he got a bit sensitive about Lily not wanting to hang out with him and he became a dick.

30 minutes into the movie, someone opens the door and comes in. It’s Lily with tears rolling down her cheeks.

She sits down a few seats away, clearly not knowing what to do to make it right. But Simon knows she’s trying. He moves a seat closer, and so does she, until eventually their next to eachother.

“‘M sorry you think ‘m embarrassed of you.” She sniffles and whispers.

“‘M sorry I made you feel like a dick for growing up.” He wraps a burly arm around her and gently hugs her tight.

They watch the movie, talking about how shitty the quality is and how predictable the ending is.

But, this is Simons new favorite memory.

Why?

Because. His baby girl is finally spending time with him again.

And that’s perfect to him.

[c4tluver02]

Family Video

a/n: haiiii this is my very first pic ive everrrrr written so im sorry if its awful and boring!!!!! if there's anything I can improve on pls let me know!! also id love any requests you guys have! <333 enjoy

summery: after just moving to Hawkins you decided a movie is in order. but when looking for a movie you notice the boy at the counter just can't stop staring at you!

no warnings!

wc: 1k

｡･::･ﾟꕥ,｡･::･ﾟꕥ｡･::･ﾟꕥ,｡･::･ﾟꕥ｡･::･ﾟꕥ,｡･::･ﾟꕥ｡･::･ﾟꕥ,｡･::･ﾟꕥ｡･::･ﾟ

All Steve could do was roll his eyes. Robin went on a date with Vickie last night and it was simply all she could talk about.  

“Robin of course she likes you, she asked you on the date. Vickie wouldn't do that if she didn't mean it.” Steve says somewhat listening in and out of what feels like hours long of the same topic. 

“Well this isn't something I can mess up, I mean what if I was too forward or I rambled I mean you know I can ramble!” 

Steve sighs as he puts tapes back into their spot after they had been returned. “Listen Rob, I can promise you VIckie likes you for you and your rambling. There's nothing you need to be worried about.” He says trying to end this conversation and get back to working in peace.

Truth be told Steve was having trouble in the dating department. If you would have told King Steve that he would have trouble even holding a conversation with girls he wouldn't believe you. Yet here he was listening to everyone tell him their love life and him having nothing to say back.

“Steve you don't get it VIckie is perfect in every sense of the word. I mean what if-” Robin gets cut off as the bell above the door rings signaling a new customer and Steve couldn't be more thankful.

You walked in feeling eyes on you, almost like you had interrupted a conversation. You walk towards the comedy section in hopes of finding something interesting to fill your weekend with.

As you start to look around, you feel a pair of eyes on you. When you look up you notice the boy at the counter swiftly turning his head the other way. You smile to yourself at his attempt of making it look like he wasn't staring. You then walk to the drama aisle. You're not really sure what type of movie you're looking for but it's almost as if the counter boy can read your mind. 

“Hey, um, is there anything you need help with?” Steve says with a kind smile on his face as he walks over to you. 

“Hi! Yes, actually some help would be great. I am not really sure what movie to watch.. Do you have any, uh, suggestions?” You say not sounding as confident now that the cute boy is standing right in front of you 

Steve's eyes lit up at the request, the thought of being helpful to such a pretty girl had his heart pounding. 

“Of course, do you have any genres of movie you like?” Steve asks, trying to learn any bit of information he could about you.

“I definitely like romance movies, comedy, horror, and drama of course I guess I'm not really picky when it comes to genres.” It wasn't until you noticed that you and Steve were both completely stopped in the middle of the aisle that you probably could have just said comedy and he could have found a movie no problem. Steve didn't mind your long answer though, he liked that you were so open to talk. He guides you both to the comedy section and pulls out a movie. 

“Ok we have this movie, it just came out and we've gotten great consumer reviews on it” He says with a smile that's probably a little too wide for just helping a customer pick out a movie. 

You look at the movie he's picked and it happens to be one you've seen before but you don't have the heart to tell him that. He looks proud to give you a good recommendation along with his help so you take the movie from his hands and smile at him.

“Perfect! I probably would have been looking in here forever trying to find something without your help!” you say with a smile not really wanting this conversation to end.

It almost seems like Steve doesn't either, or maybe you just aren't good at hiding your emotions as he says 

“Hey uh, how come I haven't seen you around here before?” Steve says hoping he's not coming off too forward the last thing he wanted to do was scare you away. 

You stand in front of him with wide eyes not knowing exactly what to say. You knew this town was small and being new will probably have a few others asking why they didn't know of you. 

“Oh, I just moved here about a week ago. I am just trying to scope out some places and I thought a movie night would be comforting.” You say as you twirl your hair in your hands, a nervous habit you have. 

Steve nods wishing he could ask you a million more questions. There was something so intriguing about you. He wants to know where you lived before coming here, or better yet why you decided to move here out of all the places. Trying to come off nonchalant and cool, Steve pops the question that you weren't expecting. 

“Anyone helping you move, friend, or maybe boyfriend?” Steve looks at you with big eyes and a calm demeanor trying to pull out his King Steve persona even though his night will be utterly ruined if the answer isn't no. 

You blush lightly at his question but just enough for Steve to notice. “Nope, no boyfriend helping. I moved out here alone so packing has been slower for sure.” You say you are trying to sound cool despite the fact you are single and have no clue what you are doing moving and starting a new life all on your own.

Steve's shoulders release a tension he didn't even know he was holding. A breath of relief comes out right and as Steve opens his mouth to say something back-

“Hey are you ready to check out?” Robin says walking up to you guys noticing you have a movie picked out. 

You look between her and Steve blinking as reality comes crashing down on you. This guy has a job and she probably needs him to get back to it. Not standing here talking to you for forever. You walk up to the counter and see that Steve is gonna be the one checking you out. 

You pay for the movie as you and Steve sit in a comfortable silence. Before you leave you thank him.

“Thanks for all you help… Steve?” You say reading out his name tag on his vest.  

But Steve just loves the way his name sounds coming out of your mouth. He wishes you could say it again. It’s as if an angel just spoke to him. Your eyes, your hair, your smile, it's all perfection. He can't believe that someone so perfect is right in front of him. Like cupid shot him directly in the heart. As you blink in front of him waiting for a response he finally answers. 

“Yea.. Steve! And if you want to come back and let us know what you thought of the movie you're more than welcome to!” Steve says with excitement blowing his nonchalant cover a bit. 

You gleam at his invitation even though you both know you'll have to come back to return the movie anyways. Yet you don't mention it or try to mess with him about it. You simply smile and nod.

“Got it, I'll be back soon for the review!” You say as you grin from ear to ear just by looking at the boy in front of you as you open the door to leave. 

Once you get in your car Steve turns around and sighs. Robin looks directly at him with eyes squinted and a smirk.

“What?” Steve asks confused with her stare

“I saw you have heart eyes for her..” Robin says, poking him in his shoulder repeatedly. 

Steve huffs and rolls his eyes pushing her hand away, “I was just helping out a customer buckley. Can a man not do that?” He bites back sarcastically.

“Mhm sure, I guess so.” Robin says back with a smirk on her face as Steve turns around knowing this isn't just some customer.

[maudie-duan]

Series Summary: Harry has been fighting to keep his relationship with Olivia afloat for nearly two years. At what point do you choose to either endure or let the strain of the world defeat his ambitious hopes of a lasting relationship? Or will a single night and a fleeting encounter be enough to change the projection of Harry’s path? Maybe our ‘Mystery Girl,’ Shiloh, will just happen to be in the right place at the right time. 

All Chapters Here <-

A/N: Harry's always in his feels! Hope you guys are having a wonderful week, enjoy the update!!

Tag List: @howling-wolf97 @sassamanda77 @babegoalsreads @palmettogal508 @indierockgirrl

@lizsogolden @sexymfharriet @pologoonies

Word Count: 3.4K

Warning: Strong Language, Major Angst, Eventual Smut, Emotional.

Hi

That was all she sent. I’ve waited months to hear a single word from Shiloh, and that was it. It made me laugh, the universe poking fun, a literal manifestation sent in a text, so I really couldn’t complain, right?

She sent the message at seven in the morning, which made it even more random. I felt like I needed context; was this the door opening? I ended up locking myself in my hotel room for hours, staring at that one word until my phone died, switching between apps on my phone. Trying to figure out what she was up to, sitting there at a loss of how to reply because what did she want? Could it really be that simple?

All day, I never messaged her back. That night, we had our NYC movie premiere, so I switched into “go mode” and put all thoughts of Shiloh on the back burner, thinking I just needed to make it through the evening, then she could have all my time. I could reach out tomorrow; maybe we could unpack everything and have a fresh start, but what did I tell you about the universe?

There I was, trying to bail out of the after-party, making a list of faces I needed to say my goodbyes to, and just as I turned my head to plot my escape, in walks Shiloah and Timothee. I kid you not—Shiloh was the last person I expected to show up. There I was, thinking I had a better chance of running into her in LA than in New York City, thinking I had more time, and what a fucking site to behold. 

Silly me for thinking we didn’t run in the same circle these days. It was crazy how impenetrable Shiloh was becoming in such a short time, and yes, I know a lot of it was my own doing because maybe she had always been there, but I was too caught up in my own world to pay attention. Isn’t it funny how the things we avoid seem to find us no matter what…and in seeps the regret of my avoidance, the universe laughing in my face?

I watched as she spotted Florence standing idle at the end of the bar. She must have been waiting for them because she already had drinks, shoving drinks into their empty hands while they gave their greetings and god, Shiloh looked amazing. She looked like she had just walked off a 90’s runway—sexy silver knee-high boots that reflected the light every time she moved an inch, her Gucci back tights a second skin, flush against her toned legs that looked like they went for miles, under a tight black mini skirt. I don’t know how she did it—Make her short stature stretch like that, but it was nothing short of impressive; she had me choking on my drink, disoriented as soon as we locked eyes, finding me in seconds, intuitively searching the room for my gaze, her green eyes shooting a spark down my spine as all the noise in the crowded bar overwhelmed my senses.

She saw me, but did she see me? It was the same question I would ask myself the rest of the night. The whole interaction reminded me of the first time we crossed paths, the way her eyes moved past me without a second thought. This time, our eyes met, and without hesitation, she was turning to look over her shoulder. Catching Timothee’s eyes, who turned my way, his stare lingering longer than Shiloh’s, and when he met her eyes again. I swear he gave the slightest nod; something about the gesture left me unsettled—the two of them sharing a communicative look that made me desperate for even a semblance of the bond they so clearly had.

What would my next move be? When now, I looked like a complete idiot for not texting back, behaving like I haven’t just spent months in therapy trying to get my shit together, and then I ordered another drink. I stood there at the bar, knowing that someone was bound to approach me if I just waited long enough, and to my dismay, of course, it would be Olivia:

“Negroni, please…” She says, lifting a hand to get the bartender’s attention. I already know what this is about; the gull this woman has sometimes really is beside me. Maybe this is what I liked about her at one point, but I’ve lost patience for it altogether, and now she feels like a stray cat trying to mark her territory, except that ship has long sailed, and I don’t have the energy for it. I truly am over it this time; I swear I’ve learned my lesson, and there will be no more weak-hearted temptation on my behalf—Vinece was embarrassing enough.

“I don’t want to do this with you, Olivia…” I tell her, not even looking her way as I bring my drink to my mouth. 

She laughs, fainting innocence, and I can tell it’s all an act, “Oh, please, get over yourself…I’m just ordering a drink—”

“Yeah—I’m sure…” 

“I see your bell of the ball just walked through the doors,” She laughs, “And is she with Timothee Chalamet? I’ve heard he has a way of charming the masses…” 

I laugh, “It’s none of my business…and it’s definitely not yours…” and I grab my drink and walk off, not giving her the satisfaction of me just on the cusp of groveling because I think I would do it. If Shiloh waved me over, I have a feeling I would say and do anything, and that’s just too fucking messy right now, so what do I do?

When I look back over, Shiloh is propped against a stool, Timothee beside her, his arm stretched behind her, resting on the bar. It’s very buddy, buddy, very hmmmm….is there something more there? But is there? And really, it isn’t my business, but if there was, why would she send me that message?

I listened to her Howard Stern interview on my way over from Italy. She has a way of talking about him, not nervous or dodging very many questions; they know each other. I’m practically a stranger in her eyes, so if there were something there, it would be perfectly understandable, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m jealous, that I wish it were me standing there, and as I get caught up in a conversation with one of my cast mates it doesn’t stop me from watching, from observing their progression.

At one point, I spotted her chatting it up with Chris Pine, honestly, longer than expected, long enough for him to order her a drink. What were they even talking about? Was this another one of those mysterious connections, or was it just her networking? 

Everything about her was perplexing; was it all an act, or would I ever have the chance to find out for myself? Then she crossed her long legs in front of her, lifting her glass to Chris’s—that’s when I thought I would lose it—the power she held over me was mystifying, a gravitational pull I could feel from every corner of the room. When she stood from the bar stool to excuse herself, she pulled at the hem of her tiny black skirt, I saw Chris’s eyes drop for a split second, and I had to excuse myself from the room because what the fuck am I doing?

And then I’m literally forcing myself to hide.

I’ve been on the verge of making a fool of myself all night, unable to hold a basic conversation for more than five minutes without my wondering eye getting the best of me. Maybe this is turning into a problem because I’m losing focus, losing sight of my life. She is all too consuming, and there seems to be no running, so what do I do? How long could I stay here, locked in this stall? If I leave without saying goodbye or making an attempt to be polite, am I an asshole? Does she already think I’m an asshole? Was she mad at me earlier, that passive glance? I can see why she’s avoiding me, but can’t she just understand? Is this a game? Did she come here with Timothee just to prove that she can, fuck, what is wrong with me? 

We’re both grown-ups. I can do this: march out there and say Hi. I can be casual, I can play it cool, I can play whatever game this is because my end game is Shiloh, and if I have to wait around for her and Timothee to play out whatever it is that is happening, the best I can hope that it’s quick, and of course, I’m assuming the worst. I need to get over myself, and as I walk out of the stall, there’s Timothee, washing his hands, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror, and there’s that smile, that sweet, innocent grin of his, and how does he do it?

“If it isn’t Harry freaking Styles…What’s up, dude…” He laughs, “I’ve been rocking your nail polish… I love it, man.” then he holds up a wet hand, his green-painted nails speckled with water spots.

And I nod my head with approval, his gesture making me laugh. “I thought that was you…”

“You’re nails look great.” I tell him, “That’s probably my favorite collection so far…” This comment makes Timothee shy away, smirking at the ground as he shoves his hands in his pockets. 

“Mmmm…” Timothes hums, eyes flicking to mine, and I smile. This time, I’m the one shying away as I finish rinsing the soap from my hands.

Timothee clears his throat, the echo sounding around us, “I’m here with a friend. I’m pretty sure you guys know each other…would you want to join us for a drink?” 

“Oh—like join you guys for a drink?” I ask, feeling caught off-guard. The thought of being that close to Shiloh is stirring my thoughts already.

He laughs, “Well yeah…”

“Mmm…” I nod, staring back at Timothee, confused, thinking maybe he has no idea, “I wouldn’t want to impose…” I tell him, searching his face for any clues.

“I’m not normally a name dropper, but is there ever a time that Harry Styles’s presence is an imposition?” He asks, placing a hand on my shoulder. I’ve never been this close to him before, seen his face this close and personal as I take in the details that probably draw Shiloh in. 

And all I can do is smile, “I could think of a few times…trust me…” I answer, and this makes Timothee laugh, his eyes flitting over my face, and when he realizes his hand is still on my shoulder, he drops it. 

“Sorry…I’m not gunna lie…I’m a little drunk—” Timothee confesses, pinching two fingers together. 

I laugh, feeling my drinks catching up as Timothee’s close proximity makes me light-head, his closeness meaning Shiloh is even closer.

“Come on—” and he nudges his head toward the door, and without thought, I’m following, my feet treading lightly like air collecting under my feet, and I’m sailing, my feet moving in stride with Timothee, my thoughts moving closer and closer to Shiloh. 

My head is spinning on a new high, a birds-eye view, and when we finally make our way to Florence, Shiloah is nowhere to be found.

“Where’s Shi?” Timothee asks, gutting me, a nickname, god what else will slice me open?

Florence looks around, “I think…” and I follow her line of sight, “Ah…yes, she still there…” She points over at Shiloh, who is awkwardly sandwiched between Oliva and Chris, and when she meets my eyes from across the room, they linger as she brings her glass to her mouth. Then Olivia places a hand on Shiloh’s forearm, trying to hold her attention, and I see what she’s doing.

My hands break into a cold sweat, my heart thudding against my sternum. Olivia has my blood boiling, pissed because she knows she’s crossing the line. It’s not like I have any claim to Shiloh, but I know she’s only talking to her to make me mad, and it’s fucking working. I take one last glance and turn away to order another drink; that’s when Timothee puts an arm around my shoulder, asking me to take a shot with him.

Florence joins in, the two of them keeping my attention, even though a piece of me wants to look over my shoulder any chance I get, wondering how long Shiloh could end up being held hostage. If there’s anything Olivia is best at, it’s fucking talking, and I’m sure Shiloh is kind enough to stick it out: One shot goes down and I swipe my drink off the bar top, needing something to hold, something to distract me and I risk another glance, catching Shiloh mid smile as she nods her head, a look on her face like she’s actually enjoying the conversation, and the thought makes my stomach stir, a knot of nerves tightening as I take a drink. 

 It’s like Shiloh can detect my stare because her eyes sweep to mine, and I turn away quickly, downing the rest of my drink, like a dummy, afraid of getting caught, but maybe I don’t care anymore, and I look again, watching as Shiloh excuses herself. Then she’s moving through the crowd, her eyes trained on me, and it’s too much, my heart pounding, the excitement racing through every limb in my body, and when she smiles, I have to look away, smiling down at my lap, all-knowing, and I wait.

I can’t look as she closes the gap between us, knowing she’s mere seconds away from being here, right next to me, a foot, maybe inches apart because how many times have I daydreamed about this moment, the chance to look into those eyes again, capture her smile again, refresh the tiny details that seem to be slipping—slipping away with every negative thought, every self-doubt because she just smiled, that smile was for me, that smile making my whole body tingle, a chill humming down my spine, just waiting for her to pass behind me, and I’m listening, waiting for Timothee or Florence to yell out her name, to hear the sound of her familiar voice.

And then there’s nothing, and when I look over at Timothee and Florence, they’re still caught up in their conversation, no Shiloh, and when I look back in Shiloh’s direction, someone’s drawing her into another conversation, my heart dropping when she looks over, her eyes shifting past me and calls out for Timothee, gaining his attention. She waves him over, turning her back to me as soon as Timothee joins them, shutting me out, and I’m ordering another drink, sinking into the disappointment. 

“I’ll see you in California, Harry,” Florance tells me, placing a hand on my back as she pushes past me to join Shiloh and Timothee. 

When Florence ventures over, it’s clear that she’s making her exit, taking with her the guests she so graciously invited, and I force my eyes away, guessing by their actions that they’re forming a game plan for the rest of their night because it’s obvious that it isn’t over. I can feel their excitement from here, from where I’m sitting all alone. 

I don’t even watch them leave. I just finish my drink and call my car service, giving them a head start because, at the rate in which I’m falling under, descending into the pity party that I know awaits me back at my hotel, I don’t want to risk running into them. When I finally collect myself, I slip out, my bodyguard waiting for me just outside the doors, and slide into the back seat, exhaling a long breath until I feel my body decompress, my lungs emptying as I stare out the window, the New York nightscape passing me by, the city alive, even though I’m slowly fading.

The car stops at a red light at the corner of an empty block, my eyes barely grazing over the three people standing on the corner until I see the silver boots. Then Timothee’s face comes into focus, snapping me out of my haze. Florence parts ways with them, laughing about something over her shoulder, then runs up the stairs into the brownstone, so random building, and it must be where she’s staying.

“Can you pull over, maybe across the street over there?” I ask the driver, and he flicks the blinker, slowly turning onto the street and parks. 

He parks a few cars down, and I turn to peer through the back window; Shiloh and Timothee lit up under the street light hanging tall above their heads, the two of them going back and forth, a pleading look on Timothee’s face—and before I continue. I want you to know this wasn’t my finest hour—I just had to see it for myself. Know what they were when the world wasn’t watching. 

I couldn’t tell if it was an argument or just a discussion. It seemed private by the way they didn’t follow Florence into the building. So they wanted to be alone, but what were they talking about, and why did it seem like Timothee was trying to convince her of something? His mouth moved a mile a minute, talking with his hand like he was trying to stress a point, his face giving him away the entire time, and then Shiloh shifted her body, giving me the perfect view of their side profiles, a better idea of her reaction in all of this.

Timothee says something, signaling a pause between them both, his eyes trained on her face, and it has to be a question because Shiloh is just there standing there, gazing up at him, her arms hugging tight around to her body. I can’t read her expression, but when her eyes dart to the ground, and she shakes her head, Timothee throws his hands up in the air, a fit of frustration sweeping between them both. 

That’s when Shiloh reaches for his arm, mouthing the word, “Please,” because I see it plain as day, my heart sinking with the plea because she’s pleading with him now, both hands wrapped around his forearm, trying to keep him there. Timothee readying himself to walk away from whatever this was because it was obviously something, and then Shiloh is grabbing his shirt, her eyes seeking his, that same pleading look that Timothee had now taking Shiloah’s features, and I’m sick with it, that last drink churning in my stomach realizing he’s about to get my girl, she’s about to be his, because it couldn’t be more evident what this conversation is about.

Timothee turns back to face her, Shiloh pulling at his shirt, drawing him closer as a warm smile plays on her lips—it’s like watching a movie—a tale as old as time, who will get the girl. It’s like a strange sense of Deja Vu because maybe deep down, I always knew I would never get the girl because I never deserved her. Then Timothee is cupping her cheek, Shiloh’s hand coming up to his, and they both laugh as Timothee utters the words that I know are about to be my ending.

And it’s devastatingly beautiful, the smile that spreads on her face, because this is it, because when she nods her head, “Yes,” gripping his wrist as he slowly leans in to press his lips to hers, she wants it. After all, she’s grabbing his face, coming up to the tips of her toes as Timothee wraps his arms around her body, closing the gap between them, a gasp leaving my mouth when I realize I’m witnessing their first kiss.

Devastating doesn’t even begin to describe the depth to which I’ve fallen, the sinking feeling that I may never have my chance or that any chance I would have had in the past was completely ruined. Tell me to beg. I’ll do it; tell me to grovel, to crawl on my knees and plead for it because I’m burning for it, on fire for a love I know is mine. Tell me to reason; I’ll find reasons to fight, lay claim to a person I barely even know, but my soul knows because I’m not a godly man, but I’ve been praying, I’ve been praying ever since New York.

A/N: Honestly, I laughed out loud when I wrote that very last line with no intention of doing it, and then I just couldn't help myself! So then it had to become the title.

[dannyuta]

RYAN GUZMAN as FATHER MAX in THE CLEANSING HOUR (2019) | dir. Damien LeVeck

[royaltea000]

I’ve never felt so conflicted about a franchise in my life but at least this dude was hot

[xxplastic-cubexx]

bro the feminine wiles aren’t even a joke like. im with that anon who thought hellfire gala charles was a woman when they first saw him bc same, that design is insaaaane (/pos). how could u not think that when u see it lmfao. idk whose choice it was to give him a corset but the hourglass figure + female coded jawline combo do not lie. i saw it on pinterest and i was like ohhh don’t lie to me i know an anime girl when i see one- WAIT PROFESSOR X????

and that’s not even to mention movieverse charles ofc. we’ve all seen james mcavoy and his big sparkly kawaii anime eyes, i shouldn’t have to say it. charles xavier is never beating the allegations, i fear

gonna need this ask hung in the louvre i fear

[steddie-my-heart]

Thinking about Sweet Home Alabama AU Steddie.

Trans Eddie and Steve married right out of HS after Eddie gets pregnant. When they lose the baby, Eddie bolts for NYC needing to live his life. Ends up becoming pretty famous on the music scene. Starts dating someone famous too. They get engaged. Eddie now has to go back home to Hawkins to get Steve to sign the divorce papers that he's been returning for the past few years.

Lots of snark and fighting between the two. The whole party is still around - some married with kids. Lots of fun memories.

Eddie finds out about Steve's glass-making business. How he was trying to better himself to get Eddie to come back.

[todayisafridaynight]

whatever og text i had in mind for this post about ko shibasaki looking like sayama in this movie is completely cancelled on account of utsumi (this character)'s first name being kaoru and i only found this out cause i was looking up her name just to be sure when making this post

like jesus christ i legally have to make this post now

[dweebstatus4ages]

💜😊

[galariangengar]

💭

[star-ocean-peahen]

After watching Cinderella (the original animated movie, which was my favorite as a child), it strikes me how it solves many common problems people have with this fairy tale. Like:

Why did they try to identify the mystery girl using her shoe size? Because the bullheaded king's only clue to her identity was the shoe the Grand Duke picked up off the steps.

Why didn't the prince recognize her by her face? Because his father wouldn't involve him in the process at all, and wasn't the one going around trying to find her.

Why did the prince want to marry a lady he only met that night? Because his father was going to force him to marry someone, and he genuinely liked this woman.

Why did Cinderella want to marry a man she only met that night? Because marriage was her best and most secure way to freedom. Fucked up, but you can't say it's unrealistic for the setting of a fairy tale. She also genuinely liked him.

If they're using the slipper to find her, wouldn't it be more sensible to search for the person with the other slipper? Yes. The King is purposefully nonsensical and the Duke is purposefully terrified enough of him to carry out his orders to the letter. Furthermore, they end up doing that in the end anyway, because the Duke's glass slipper is shattered, and Cinderella brings out the one she has to prove her identity.

Why didn't the stepmother and stepsisters recognize Cinderella at the ball? Because they were dancing too far away, and then left the party to dance in private, which was possible because the King wanted very badly for his son to hit it off with someone and tried to arrange the best conditions for that to happen.

Why didn't Cinderella save herself? Because in real life, abuse victims should not have to shoulder that responsibility, and usually can't. In real life, you need and deserve an external support system. Asking for help, in this kind of situation, is very important. She is saved by others because she is loved. Because she is not alone. Because she has friends who love her, and want her to be happy and safe and free. Because in real life, people who want to help someone who is suffering are like the mice. We can't pull out miracle solutions, but we can provide companionship and if we're in the right place at the right time, we can help the person find a better life.

Why didn't the fairy godmother save Cinderella from her abusive household, or try to help her sooner? Because she's magic, and magic can't solve your problems. Quote: "Like all dreams, well, I'm afraid it can't last forever." This (and Cinderella's dream of going to the ball) is a metaphor for pleasurable things in bad circumstances. An ice cream won't get rid of your depression, but it will provide you with momentary happiness to bolster you, as well as the reminder that happiness in general is still possible for you. Cinderella doesn't want to go to the ball so she can get away from her stepmother and stepsisters, or so she can meet someone to marry and leave with. She wants to go to the ball to remind herself that she can still have things she wants. That her desires matter. This is important because the movie does a very good job of illustrating Lady Tremaine's subtle abuse tactics, all of which invisibly press the message that Cinderella doesn't matter. While going to the ball and fulfilling her dreams may not be a victory in the material sense, it is still a victory against Lady Tremaine's efforts.

Why is Cinderella's choice to be kind and obedient framed as a good thing, when you are not obligated to be kind to your abuser? This one walks a very fine line, but I think the movie still makes it make sense. Lady Tremaine never acknowledges her cruelty. She always frames her punishments of Cinderella as Cinderella's fault. Cinderella is interrupting, Cinderella is shirking her duties, Cinderella is playing vicious practical jokes. Cinderella is still a member of the family, of course she can go to the ball, provided she meet these impossible conditions. Lady Tremaine's tactics are designed to make Cinderella feel like she must always be in the wrong and her stepmother must always be in the right. If Cinderella calls her stepmother out on her cruelty, or attempts to fight back, Lady Tremaine can frame that as Cinderella being ungrateful, cruel, broken, evil, etc. If Cinderella responds to her stepmother's cruelty defiantly (in the way she's justified to), she's not taking control out of Lady Tremaine's hands. Disobedience can be spun back into her stepmother's control. She wants Cinderella to be angry and sad and show how much she's hurting. So since Cinderella is adapting to her situation, she chooses to be kind. Not only because she naturally wants to be and it's part of her personality, but because it is a form of defiance in its own way, and it allows her to keep a reminder of her agency and value. Her choice to be kind is her chance to keep her own narrative alive: she is not obeying because her stepmother wants her to and she has to do what her stepmother does, but because she wants to. It's a small distinction, but one that makes all the difference in terms of keeping her hope and identity. (Fuck, I wrote a whole paragraph about how this doesn't mean you can't be angry at people who hurt you or that you need to be kind to deserve help, and then deleted it by accident. Uh. Try again.) Expressing anger and pain is an important part of regaining autonomy and healing. Although it is commendable to be kind while you are suffering, it is NOT required for you to get help or be worthy of help. If Cinderella's recovery was explored beyond "happily ever after" she would need to let herself be angry and sad to heal. Cinderella is not only kind because it comes naturally to her, but because it's her defense against the abuse she's suffering. Everyone's story and experiences are different, and one does not invalidate the other.

Bonus round for answers that aren't part of the movie:

Why didn't Cinderella run away? Where would she go? Genuinely, in hundreds-of-years-ago France, where would she go if she snuck out of the window with a change of clothes? With her step-family, she's miserable and abused, but she's fed, clothed, and in no danger of dying or being taken advantage of by anyone other than her stepmother and stepsisters. Even if she escapes and manages to find financial security, her stepmother might be able to find her and get her back.

Why didn't Cinderella burn the house down with them inside it/slit their throats in the night/poison their food/etc.? Because that's a revenge fantasy, and this story is a fantasy about being saved. There's nothing wrong with making Cinderella into a revenge fantasy. That's perfectly fine, as long as you acknowledge that the other type of fantasy is also a valid interpretation. (I mean, the original fairy tale features the stepsisters getting their feet mutilated and all three of them getting their eyes pecked out, so go for it.)

Why isn't Cinderella more proactive in general? Because she's a child who has been abused for the back half of her life, who has had to be focused on survival because. you know. she's an abused kid.

How did she dance in glass slippers? Gotta agree with you there man, that's weird.

[nanaslutt]

welcome to my smau list!! ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

౨ৎ feel free to send an ask to my inbox if u have an idea for a smau (no suggestive prompts for under 18 characters) ౨ৎ

jjk smaus

✿ asking jjk men if you can hold their 🍆 while they pee

✿ showing the jjk men ur new piercings

✿ asking the jjk men if you can peg them

✿ changing “babe” to autocorrect to “whore” in their phone

✿ “shes busy rn”

✿ leaving without telling the jjk guys

✿ “he’s busy rn”

✿ getting ur nails the color of their tip

✿ forbidden relationships

✿ drawing a heart with their tip

✿ baby fever

✿ drunk texting the jjk men

✿ jjk men having a wet dream about you

✿ asking them for a hand pic

✿ jjk mean reacting to their contact name

✿ asking jjk characters what their fav sex act is

✿ telling the jjk guys you spent $200 on tire air

✿ “wrong person” nudes prank

✿ jjk characters reactions to you getting harassed/ hit in

✿ jjk characters finding out you got injured

✿ ass or tits

✿ giving them suprise flowers

✿ asking the jjk characters to take your virginity

✿ telling the jjk characters you want to get them pregnant

✿ getting flowers from someone else and thinking it was from them

✿ getting jealous of you hanging out with someone else

✿ stealing your panties

✿ cuddles after sex

✿ innapropreate package mixup

✿ wax my 😽

✿ sending them porn you wanna recreate

✿ when they drunk text you

✿ them asking you on a date for the first time

✿ sending nudes in the middle of an argument

✿ getting a necklace with their initial

✿ being a woman/man for a day question

✿ controlling your bluetooth vibe

✿ when you leave a kiss mark on them

✿ asking you to stay the night for the first time

✿ the call ending after you fall

✿ “they just left you can come over now”

✿“if i gave you a pass to call me a bitch how would you use it”

✿ “i didn’t finish last night“ prank

✿“i got arrested”

✿ when they find ur smut

✿ editing them to look bad in a photo

✿ accidentally sending them nudes (pre relationship)

✿ the jjk characters sending you gym pics

✿ getting scared watching a scary movie

✿ finding out they punched ur stuffed animals

✿ when they see you in someone else’s jacket

✿ asking them their fav pet name is in bed

✿ when you start your period unprepared

✿ when you see them with another girls belongings

✿ asking them if they like having sex with you

✿ asking them for happy trail pics

✿ when they ask for nudes and you send an unsuggestive pic

✿ asking them if they have a crush on you

✿ when they find ur toy

✿ anxious before ur wedding

✿ taking pics of you when you fall asleep

✿ asking them for a whimper audio

✿ when they cheat on you

✿ having a dream they cheated on you

✿ when they get hit on/harassed

✿ the morning after ur first time having sex

✿ accidentally saying i love you for the first time before ending the call

✿ asking them if they only like you for sex

✿ offering them head to relax them

✿ asking them to kill a spider for you

✿ their reactions to a sexy picture you posted

✿ pregnancy scary

✿ ”sex has been boring” prank

✿ their card declined prank

✿ getting lost in public

✿ asking them if you can stack donuts on it

✿ asking them to pick out a new toy for you

✿ waking up in their body

✿ them reacting to you crying over a dumb video

✿ catching them masturbating

✿ getting a noise complaint

✿ when they catch you masturbating

✿ when they catch you singing

✿ finding a hair that isn’t urs

✿ telling them their nut tastes bad

✿ trying anal

✿ comforting you when you’re burnt out

✿ when they take an aphrodisiac

✿ asking them to find ur 😽 in a lineup

✿ asking them how much money they have

✿ asking about a threesome

✿ what’s their sexual fantasy?

✿ asking them if they’ll put it in soft

✿ slapping their ass and running away

✿ asking them for their friends number

✿ selling their stuff online prank

✿ asking if they’d get a genital piercing

✿ making them sleep on the couch

✿ asking what their body count is

✿ asking them to give you a hickey

[fushitoru]

so i know who i'm looking at! a sukuna ryomen oneshot

pairing ⸺ ghostface!sukuna x reader

summary ⸺ on halloween night, you get a strange phone call from a man with a distorted voice right as you're chilling while babysitting yuuji. you get an ultimatum: perform for him, or risk your and yuuji's lives.

warnings ⸺ smut, fluff (at the end), pre established consent but dub con just in case, cream pie, lots of degradation and praise, “good girl,” oral sex (m!recieving), recording and pictures, suggested infidelity (but it’s not actually infidelity), exhibitionism, reader gives him a show in exchange for her life, rough sex, semi-public sex, established relationship, mdni, pls help me find artist for credit :(

next. week two

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

you stretch, yawning as you adjust the blanket you had on you to cover you and give you warmth on the chilly october evening. gazing forlornly at the balcony window outside, you see kids and college students alike in their halloween costumes visiting homes for treats and bars for booze, respectively. tonight was a night you were supposed to get dicked down by your boyfriend in the bathroom of a frat, but you’re stuck instead with a last minute call to babysit yuji because he’s sick. 

you love the kid too much, like he’s your own baby. which is why you couldn’t refuse playing babysitter, even if that meant forgoing pictures for your instagram with the slutty angel costume you had bought a month who in anticipation of halloweekend. instead, you’re tucked in and cozy, watching scream for the nth time just to fangirl over how hot ghostface is. 

so you’re in your tank top and boy shorts, relaxing and chilling (that is, as much as you can while locked in on your movie). and, as if on cue, the moment the phone rings in the movie, the itadori household’s phone number gets a call.

you jump at the noise, a bit on edge because of the movie and definitely regretting the idea of setting the living room pitch back in spirit of mood lighting. groaning (albeit a bit freaked out), you get up to answer the call, as yuji babysitting protocol required that you answer any call in case it may be an emergency.  

picking up—but a bit on edge—you drone, “itadori household, how can i help you?”

there’s heavy breathing on the other end and you hate your scaredy cat tendencies because your heart is picking up at the distorted and low pants. “h—hello?”

“hey.” the voice is low, just like the breathing, and for a moment, you hate your brain for immediately recalling the nsfw audios you watch to masturbate because the guy on the phone sounds exactly like them. it’s a little freaky that you’re getting such a weird fuckin call at this time, but regardless you persist, in case this was relevant. you kind of need this job.

feigning cheerfulness, you ask, "what can i get ya?" as your fingers absently toy with the thin strap of your tank top. the cool air from the nearby vent sends a shiver across your skin, but the silence on the other end of the line is more unnerving. you're met with nothing but heavy breathing, and each exhale seems to scrape against your eardrums.

shifting uncomfortably, you feel the sweat beading at the nape of your neck as impatience builds. your fingers tighten around the receiver. "are you gonna talk or should i hang up?" you finally snap, agitation bleeding into your voice.

but before you can slam the phone down, he speaks.

“what’s your favorite scary movie?”

a groan escapes you, the kind that rises from deep in your chest, exasperation overtaking any lingering nervousness. "look, buddy, this is soooo corny. like, i was literally just watching scream, so you’re not doing shit. if you wanna prank call a girl, try somewhere else because—"

“you got a boyfriend?”

“i do,” you quip back quickly, a hand on your hip as you stand straighter, eyes flicking to the doorway of the kitchen. shadows dance in the dim light, your heartbeat subtly picking up pace. you move to hang up the phone, more irritated than frightened now. “so you better not try anything funny and waste more of your time, you fu—”

“but he’s not sleeping upstairs with the kid?”

the world freezes. you pause, the phone hovering mid-air. what did he just say? your pulse quickens, each thud louder than the last as dread claws at your chest. "what?"

a laugh, deep and guttural, slithers through the receiver. it’s the kind of laugh that makes your stomach drop and your legs feel weak. his voice is smooth, velvety even, and it curls around your ear like smoke. despite the creeping fear, something primal makes your thighs clench involuntarily. “okay, now that i’ve finally got your attention, let’s try this again. what’s your name, baby?”

that word—baby—the way he drags it out, rich and slow, makes your heart stutter, even as fear wraps tighter around your ribs. you grip the edge of the counter, nails digging into the cool surface. “why do you wanna know?”

“so i know who i’m looking at.”

the room spins. your breath falters, shallow, barely there. it’s like the walls are closing in, and your throat feels thick with fear. you lick your dry lips, throat tightening painfully. “wha—what do you mean?”

a soft coo hums through the phone, mockingly sweet. “no need to be afraid, pretty baby. you don’t want the kid upstairs to die, do you?”

your blood turns to ice. the words don’t make sense at first, but when they do, it feels like the floor’s been yanked out from beneath you. your mind races, every nerve in your body screaming. “what the fuck? is this some kind of prank call? this isn’t funny.”

but the man just continues, as if he didn’t just say something so horrifying that your stomach churns. his voice remains steady, eerily calm. “the kid, how old is he? five, six? he’s dozin’ off in those stupid iron man pj’s of his.” you swear you can hear his smile through the phone, a wicked curl of satisfaction. “and i love those shorts on you. parading your ass around like the slut you are. how’d your boyfriend leave you alone tonight?”

the walls feel like they’re closing in. a cold sweat breaks out across your skin, and suddenly the room feels too small. your eyes dart toward the darkened stairs. every creak of the house becomes louder, sharper. the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end as you swallow, mouth dry as cotton. it feels like someone is watching—someone who shouldn’t be there.

for a second, you digest the information he’d bestowed upon you—information about yourself. not-so-subtly freaking out, you get out a “please, please don’t do this.” 

 “then gimme a show. follow what i say.”

“o—okay. what do you want me to do?” you’re trembling, your realize, in your fear. or was it arousal?

“come closer to the window,” the voice purrs. you tentatively walk up to the balcony window facing the itadori garden, awaiting instructions as you stand shivering with the chill of the air.

“now,” the voice instructs, “take your top off. gimme a show, alright? better see that fucking back arch when you’re talking it off like filthy stripper slut you are.”

you whimper in humiliation but follow his instructions anyways, slowly becoming more and more of a slave to your arousal, caused by his assured and suave voice. when you take your tank top off, back arched just like he asked, the man groans and you hear distant squelches on the other side of the line.

“good girl. now when you take that bra off, pull up your cups, but don’t take it off, leave it bunched. those tits better bounce for me.” pulling up the cups of your bra, your tits recoil and bounce and the squelching gets even louder as you feel eyes rove over your tits. “fuck, i love those tits. get on your knees and bounce em for me like you’re riding cock.” 

you clench so hard as you move to do as he says. part of you is soooo aroused to be forced around like this, so you’re easily giving him the show that he wants, getting on your knees and moving your chest so that they start rhythmically bouncing, synced up with the squelches you hear in the other side of the phone.

“stick your tongue out. drool on your tits.” you moan, your tongue lolling out as a glob of spit starts trailing down your body.

 “fuck!” he exclaims, aroused by the sight. “you like being bossed around this baby? like my little bitch?”

“no!” you sob, tears springing out at the utter humiliation you were experiencing. “please let me go, please don’t do anything to yuji!” 

the voice chuckles. “really? i think you’re lying, baby. i know that pussy is wet while you’re giving me a show. matter of fact, why don’t you show me? make sure i get a really good look at that cunt, okay?”

slipping your shorts off, you turn so that your backside is facing the lawn and uncover your traitorous pussy—glistening wet—to him. taking a few steps back, you breathe heavily—like the person on the other side of the phone—as you press your pussy against the glass, the heat and humidity originating from your inner walls fogging the area on the glass. you hear a snap! on the other side, indicated that he had taken a photo. eyes widening in panic, you ask, “what are you doing? please, i’m doing whatever you wa—”

“i can’t let everyone think you’re some innocent virgin, can i? parading your ass and pussy for me, when anyone in the neighborhood can see? matter of fact,” and you start panicking at his next words, “i’ll post this online if you don’t grind that ass back for me.”

you swallow and start to do as he says. the glass is cool as you rub your folds along it, your slick dirtying the glass as you move your folds on the glass door. of course, the glide isn’t smooth—your clit keeps catching on the glass, but the fact that you’re bare to the world, any stray eyes being able to see you on display arouses you to no extent. you’re ashamed of being aroused at having to perform for a stranger, but you continue regardless and clutch the phone in your hand as he speaks to you again.

“the fuck you so wet for?” the voice mocks you. “you get off on this shit?”

“fuck you,” you moan, continuing to rub yourself. “i hate you.” 

the man laughs meanly. “for someone you hate, you’re getting pretty wet for me, baby.” the sounds of him stroking his dick are even louder as you grind against the door at the same tempo that he moves his hand at, grunting as you continue moaning into the mic. “look at how you’re clenching—good girl. want me to come in and make you cum?”

“real fucking cocky,” you hiss into the phone, “really fuckin cocky of you to think you can make me cum. with the way you had to threaten me, i just know you have a micro.”

as soon as you say that, the call hangs up and you look at your screen in confusion. that is, until you feel hands on your bare hips, knees–covered in black fabric—pressing against the junction between your thighs. “say that again,” the voice whispers.

you turn, eyes wide and heart speeding up as you turn to see the very figure that showed up in your movie. reminiscent of the killer, a tall man in a mask is hunched over you, now moving his hands to grip at your hands. “let’s take this to the bed, shall we?”

“oh shit,” ghostface curses, continuously snapping photos of your lips, the flash going off in the dark room. “look at this,” and he brings the camera closer and closer to your pussy, using his other hand to spread your lips as you helplessly lie on the bed, forced to spread your legs for him. “this pussy clenches everytime the flash goes off!” and he’s laughing, mocking you as slick leaves your hole in drops as the utter way you’re being humiliated. he grabs your cheeks roughly with the hand that was spreading your nether regions, squeezing them together and focusing the camera on your face. “this is the slut i’m going to fuck. gonna suck my cock, right?”

“mhm,” you whimper, resigned to your fate. making quick work of his robe, he takes them off completely, still leaving his mask in place. as he uncovers his pelvis, your eyes immediately rove over the hardened muscles on his abdomen. there’s a pink happy trail leading down to his dick, which is furiously red and standing. he grabs it, pumping the length as he moves closer and closer to your face until his precum is smearing against your face.

 “fuck,” he curses, as he takes in the sight of your teary eyes looking up at him dumbly, lips puckered as he slaps his cock against your cheeks until your cheeks are turning red. you’re giving kitten licks to his tip every time he alternates between slapping your two cheeks, not knowing what do to with yourself except focus on your oral fixation telling you instinctively to suck his cock. he then uses his fingers to pull your mouth open and slowly feeds his cock inside, eyes rolling back as soon as he feels your warm breath and hot tongue encompass him. 

you’re sucking at his tip and alternating between licking the rest of his dick, and he’s lost in the tight, wet heat of your mouth hollowing around him. you then prop yourself on your knees, using your hands to grab and play with his balls, stimulating him even more and causing him to rip out of your mouth and growls, “on your hands and knees. now.”

he doesn’t give you sufficient time to turn around and fully adjust in your position as he’s slamming into your roughly, the wet plush of your pussy too enticing. because you didn’t see it coming, your face is smushed against the pillow, and he grabs at your hands, using his free hand to hold them together at the small of your back. 

“you like my cock, baby?”  he pants, sweat beginning to run down his torso. when you don’t respond, he lets go of your hands to smack you consecutive times on your ass. “answer me.”

“i love it sooo much,” you babble, too lost in the pleasure to form more coherent thoughts as you ramble. “it’s splitting me—oh my god.” your eyes roll back—in pain or pleasure, you can’t decide—as his cock kisses your cervix. the masked man keeps thrusting in you, the sounds of his hips smacking into yours echoing throughout your room in a series of plap plap plap’s. 

“yea? fuck, i’m so close. you wanna live baby?” he grabs your hair and pulls, giving you a sloppy wet kiss on your cheek. “let me come inside. you’ll let me dump my cum in you, right?”

you only clenched tighter at his words. “please,” you sobbed. “please come inside. please paint my walls. i want your cum so bad.” 

you were so close, staving off your orgasm until he filled you up. at your words, the intruder laughed mockingly and kept thrusting into you, but the telltale sloppiness of his hips indicated that he was close. “god, what a slut—” he was interrupted by his own climax, and as soon as the thick ropes of cum filled you, you came with a squeal, your back arching impossibly further as your thrashed on his dick because of the intensity of your orgasm. both of you rid it together, panting as you came down. 

he pulls out of you, and before you can catch your breath, the man flops his entire weight on top of you, making you laugh as you let out a startled exclamation, “ryo!”

you squirm beneath him, trying to push him off, but it’s futile. he’s far too big and heavy, and he knows it. with a low, lazy chuckle, your boyfriend, sukuna ryomen, removes his mask—tossing it carelessly onto the floor—before nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. his breath is warm against your skin, and you can feel the heat radiating off him as his chest rises and falls in rhythm with your own.

“did you enjoy that stupid thing you wanted, brat?” he mumbles, slightly panting in exhaustion.

his words are snarky, but you can hear the affection laced beneath them. your heart swells with a sudden rush of warmth, the fondness you feel for him almost overwhelming. it’s moments like this—where he does something ridiculous just because you asked, despite all his grumbling—that remind you why you love him so much.

you wrap your arms around his broad back, fingers trailing lazily up and down his spine as you press a soft kiss to the top of his head. “you didn’t have to go all out, you know,” you whisper, smiling into his hair. “but i really appreciate it. you’re kind of the best, even when you pretend you’re not.”

ryomen grunts, but there’s no bite to it. he tightens his hold around you, his large frame practically cocooning you in warmth. you feel his lips brush softly against the skin of your neck, a tender gesture that contrasts with his usual roughness.

“yeah, well... you’re lucky i love you, freak,” he murmurs, voice low and husky. despite his usual bravado, there’s something undeniably soft in the way he says it, as if the words are meant just for you.

you hum contentedly, feeling the weight of his body press you into the mattress. it’s comforting, like being wrapped in a warm blanket. you trace circles on his back with your fingertips, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment, where it’s just you and him—no roleplay, no teasing—just the quiet aftermath of love.

“lucky, huh?” you tease back softly. “i’d say we’re both pretty lucky.”

ryomen huffs a quiet laugh against your skin before lifting his head slightly to look at you, his dark eyes soft in the dim light. then, he gets up and makes a move to walk out the door. at first, you thought he was heading towards the bathroom door to give you a towel to clean you up, but he’s heading towards the door—soft cock swinging, butt naked—and you’re only left in confusion as to what he’s doing.

“ryo, where are you going?”

“fixin myself a sandwich, i’m hungry,” he grumbles over his shoulder, leaving you dumbfounded. you’re left sitting on the bed as he continues the trek down the stairs to satiate his post sex hungries. 

“hey!” you shriek, “your balls are out! what if yuji sees?” 

later, when yuji walks deliriously into the kitchen to see his uncle’s cock and balls, he almost wishes he could fully succumb to his fever.

next. week two

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

a/n hehe i love fluffy sukuna. consider joining my kinktober taglist if you'd like!

taglist:

@sugoroo @ryutotsukai0824 @sharkubi @lisvanrouge @mxlktae

@samisfunky @achbbys000 @xd3pr3ss3dx @jottositto

[cyber333angel]

KINKTOBER DAY ONE -

COCKWARMING WITH LOGAN HOWLETT

it was a late movie night for the two of you, cuddling up with a bowl of popcorn while you watch horror films and sneak little kisses to each other. logan has his hand around your waist, fondling at the fabric that rests on your tummy as you giggle and swat his hand away at the ticklish movement. you snuggle your head into the pocket of his neck, breathing in the musky smell that always makes you feel so at ease, but the more you breath him in the more you feel that wet spot spreading in your panties. getting needier by the second as you rub your thighs together trying to contain yourself, by now you should know that logan takes note of every little thing you do, he knows you almost more than you do yourself and he proves that when he makes a little comment, picking up your head to face him. “you alright bub, what’s going on down here?” he says teasingly placing his hands on your thigh, smiling while you wince in embarrassment that he caught even your slightest movements.

you nod your head in a yes motion, your breath hitching as you spread your legs apart and snuggle closer to him. “m’alright lo, i just need you..” you say with a slight whine, kissing at his neck greedily, moving on to his lap to be closer to him. feeling his hands crawl around your waist as you suck at his lips, almost moaning into his mouth while you try to tug off his clothes — where logan stops you, holding your hands as you pause and look at him wondering what happened. “I know you just want me to just put it in bubba but you gotta work for it first.” he says, completely serious as if you have time to play games right now. “but-“ you go to argue but your shushed before you even say your defense. “nope no easy way like usual, you want me to make you feel good or not?” and of course you do, so you nod your head not knowing how mhch hard work it would take to get your way.

and that’s how you end up facing the TV screen with your back pressed up against logans chest, his cock buried into your cunt as you struggle to sit still. trying to quit your constant squirming as if it isn’t difficult to have all his girthy length wedged into the deepest parts of you, you peek behind him and see him watching the movie still with a beer in one hand and his other gripping your hip sternly. throughout the movie he tries to quiet your whimpers, grabbing your jaw to whisper some disapproving remark, acting like this isn’t the hardest thing for you. you only want to relieve the stretching feeling that’s in your cunt and you had been good so far. it was a little difficult at the beginning where logan had to keep telling you to sit down, having to hold your thighs in place while you whined about how much you needed to move. but at the nearing last 10 minutes of the movie and you think you can make it. “doing so good for me baby I knew you could do it..” he says slivering up his hand to your neck, holding it gently as he leaves trails of kisses up and down you neck to your back. the warm suction of his lips distracting you and and it’s like your hips have a mind of its own, guiding yourself back and forth on his dick so it hits you in all the right places. “mm logan i can’t take it anymore! I need to move s’too much!” you can hear his response close to your ear, hearing the greed in his sweet baritone voice as he finally says yes to your pleads. “of course baby, you were such a good fucking girl it’s time you get your reward right?”

[plumdiggity]

There’s a standing event with my friends, we all come over to a place to hang out and drink and catch up and watch movies. The last couple of times I’ve blacked out but that’s kind of my fault for drinking on an empty stomach and no one else seems to mind me staying the night.

I’m the last to arrive, stuck in traffic, and the only spot free is right in the middle of the couch so I wedge myself in between and am immediately handed a drink. We’re just watching old vine compilation videos so it’s not weird that the video ends and another starts every few minutes. It takes me a few seconds to realise the next video isn’t vines or memes. It’s… porn. People with backs hunched wordlessly moaning and thrusting into some girl whose face is covered by another girls thighs assumedly being eaten out. It sounds brutal, balls slapping so loud I’m surprised if it doesn’t hurt. I laugh a little, about to make a joke about someone accidentally adding in their porn collection but stop when I recognise the couch. It’s the one I’m currently sitting on. I look around to gauge everyone else’s reactions but all eyes are on me.

“We were surprised that even after the 5th time we drugged you that you still never caught on. So we thought we’d skip that this time.”

“Yeah. Either you’re completely oblivious or way more of a slut than we thought.”

My eyes pivot back to the screen in time to see the camera pull back and the angle change and I’m watching myself getting manhandled into a new position. Straddling someone and hands shoving me down onto their thick cock, then pushed forward so my ass was more exposed for a second to slam into me as well. My cries are muffled and the camera turns so I see my drugged out self struggling to deepthroat a huge strap on that I’m told is going to split my tight ass if I don’t slobber it up enough.

I barely register that my glass had been taken out of my hand and my best friend has started sliding her hand up my thigh under my skirt. I don’t hear the rustling of clothing being removed but I let out an involuntary whimper when my bestie rubs her fingers over my panties and leans in close to whisper “I’m gonna make you squirt with that strap in your ass this time.”