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#I'm still not happy with it but I just want it to be DONE.
woso-dreamzzz · 2 days
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Read II
England Lionesses x Child!Reader
Mary Earps x Child!Reader
Summary: There's a reason you don't have sugar
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You hold reading lessons every day at camp because you want the rest of the England team to not be knuckleheads anymore and to prove Mikey from school wrong.
It's not easy to learn how to read so you know you need to come back to make sure everyone has been keeping up with their learning because that's what Mummy and Daddy do to you.
They started teaching you how to read very early so you were fairly advanced when you went to school.
You think Mikey's just jealous because you're a good reader and he's a bad one but, still, you want to make sure to prove him wrong.
Mary always says the best revenge is proving haters wrong. You don't know if Mikey's a hater but you'll assume he is because better safe than sorry.
You've done a good job at teaching everyone though because Maya, Millie T and Tooney all give you some sherbet sweets. They make your mouth go a little tingly when you try them but you like that feeling so the three of them keep feeding you more.
They're responsible for you while Mary's getting the last bit of treatment before you all get on the coach to go to the stadium. Usually, someone else is responsible for you but you did a quick reading lesson for Maya and Millie with Tooney as your assistant so they're supervising you before the journey.
You decide that you really like the sherbet straws they give you and Maya dares you to see how many you can finish before you have to go.
You don't count but it's definitely a lot.
Enough for you to feel super hyped when you're finally reunited with Mary. She's picked out a set of four seats with a table and she's already got your rucksack full of books open for you to pick from.
You're very advanced in your reading for such a young kid but even you struggle a little bit. Now that you've taught Mary to read, she can read very well from the books that are a bit too complicated for you right now so she's in charge of reading them to you as you drive to the pitch.
"Er..." You say as you look at the selection," That one."
"Alright," Mary says, cracking open the book and clearing her throat. She gets about halfway through before she notices how wiggly you're being. "Hey, rugrat, do you need the toilet?"
You frown. "No. Keep reading, Mary."
"Are you sure? I can take you."
"No, Mary. My book, please."
"Alright." Mary keeps reading but she's acutely aware of the way you keep wiggling in your seat.
You seem to think you're fine though. Or, at least, you don't think you need the toilet which is Mary's main worry.
"Okay," She says finally," Go and find someone to hang out with. I need to talk to Tooney."
You seem all too happy to scamper off, practically throwing yourself at Beth across the aisle.
"Tooney!" Mary snaps, interrupting the conversation she and Alessia are having.
"Jesus, Mary! You scared me there!"
"What did you give my sister?" Mary demands," She's never been like this before."
"Like what?"
"Like that!"
Mary points over to where you've decided it's a funny idea to crowd surf over the girls at the front, who are bouncing you a bit as they pass you off to the girls sitting behind them.
"She doesn't do that! She's also not wiggly on the bus! What did you give her?"
Tooney winces. "I gave her nothing!"
Mary narrows her eyes. "What did you let Millie and Maya give her?"
Tooney's eyes dart to them quickly before she clears her throat. "I've got the right to remain silent! Anything I say or do can be used against me in a court of-"
Mary's already moved off before Tooney can finish and she crosses the coach to confront the other two. "I'm not interested in excuses. Tell me what you've given my sister."
Her gaze is clearly intimidating because Maya and Millie fold instantly and Mary's on her way back to her seat, easily plucking you from someone's arms to set you back down next to her.
It seems most of the sugar rush has disappeared now but then another problem makes itself known.
The bus goes over a series of bumps and you make a little aborted movement forward.
Mary recognises the action and whips out a plastic bag. "Here, rugrat," She says," Let it out. Let it all out."
She rubs your back as you throw up. It takes a lot longer than usual to hurl up your guts and Mary narrows her eyes over the top of her seat to look at Millie and Maya.
This is all their fault, Mary knows it.
It's because of all of the sugar you've consumed that you've thrown up so bad and, as she ties the bag shut, Mary briefly contemplates throwing it at Millie and Maya.
"Juice, please," You say and Mary hands it to you," Sorry, Mary."
"It's okay," She says," It's not your fault. Do you want to continue your book?"
You nod, leaning against your sister, energy drained. "Yes, please."
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prael · 9 hours
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Phonecalls
Kinktember Day 24: Vicarphilia
IVE Gaeul x male or female reader smut
words: 3,756 Kinktember Masterlist Happy Gaeul day!
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Gaeul is the personification of the phrase ‘Don't judge a book by its cover.’
A big personality inside a small stature, Gaeul's appearance belies her personality. She's enigmatic, she's witty, she's charismatic, she's funny, and most importantly, she's honest. Honest, almost, to a fault.
She's your best friend, and she has always had your back. When you were down, she would always pull you back up. When you were lost, she would always find you. Gaeul has always been there for you no matter what, and you always knew you could rely on her. You trust Gaeul implicitly, and she does you.
There's this other side to Gaeul too, see, she looks ever so innocent. The way her voice always carries with excitement, it's always so full of life and wonder. Innocence is always an assumption people have of Gaeul. It's completely, and utterly incorrect, but people tend to assume it nonetheless.
Gaeul called you up as she usually does, and yes, you were busy, but not even an hour later you found yourself at a cafe sitting across from her. It was important, or so she said.
"Look at this message. He definitely wants to bone me, right?" Just like that, you had your regular reminder that all those assumptions about Gaeul are wrong.
"I don't know, he just said he wants to get drinks," you answered, albeit in the least convincing tone in your arsenal. Of course, he wanted to bone her.
"Exactly, drinking leads to being drunk and being drunk leads to boning."
"I've gotten drunk around you loads of times and we never ended up in bed together."
Gaeul squinted at you disapprovingly. "Well, we almost—"
"We don't talk about that, remember. Anyway, what's the problem, isn't this basically your dream Friday night? Boy meets girl, boy and girl get drunk, boy takes girl home, boy and girl fuck until they fall asleep," you told her, tilting your iced coffee in her direction as a gesture of encouragement.
"So you do think he's gonna bone me?" Gaeul asked, leaning back on her seat as she chewed on her bottom lip, no longer sure what to think of this text.
"Okay, maybe, but what's the problem?"
"He seems a bit clingy. He's all 'It would be cool if we could get dinner before' or 'I'd love it if we could go watch that new film that's out'," she groaned. "What am I, his girlfriend?"
Some psychiatrists would probably diagnose this as something born out of attachment issues or maybe some insecurity. Whatever, why bother with the analysis? She just hates relationships. 
She's young and having fun—a lot of fun. Sex, and plenty of it. Men and women in equal supply. Either way, relationships aren't on her agenda.
That's not what this story is, anyway. This story is not about Gaeul, not really. Her raunchy nights with strangers are important, but for you, it's more about the morning after.
"So cut it off with him, then. Give him some fake excuse and ghost him before you have another person falling for you."
She slammed her head onto the wooden table of the cafe. "Easier said than done. I mean he's funny. And he's pretty cute." She peered at you, an evil grin now curling her lips, "And I still want to bang him."
"Gaeul, we both know how this ends, you're going to see him tonight and you're ending the night on your back."
"Counter argument: maybe I'm on top."
"Alright, sure, but why am I here? You're only going to call me right after anyway."
"Well..." Gaeul said, leaning closer. "He has this friend and—"
"No, I'm good," you told her and she reeled back from your instant rejection, her eyes wide as if you'd shot her dead.
"Ugh, you're no fun." She shrugged, unfazed, as her hands flew across her phone's screen.
"You know where I get my fun."
"I'll call you after, don't worry," Gaeul said with a slight curve in the corner of her mouth, and that was the promise you held her to.
The promise she was right now upholding. Your phone is ringing with a call from Gaeul and it's the perfect way to start your morning. You smile, content that your best friend has kept to her promise.
"So? How'd it go, was he as big as you hoped?" You ask as you roll over onto your side and prop yourself on one elbow, the smooth fabric of your silken sheets beneath you.
"Big enough," she says followed by a satisfied hum, and you can just imagine that Gaeul must have the kind of stupid, satisfied smile that reaches her ears right now, "The things I let people do to me."
You shake your head and roll your eyes at that last part. "Come on, Gaeul, are you going to keep talking vague? The suspense is killing me." Your lips spread into a teasing grin that you're pretty sure Gaeul can hear through the call. You do very much appreciate her elaborate storytelling.
"Alright fine," she sighs, and the satisfaction is still there, if the subtle laugh she gives is any indication. "The drinks were good and went down easy. There was the small talk and the questions. So, I told him, he could ask any question as long as I got to ask any question I wanted afterwards. We were curious enough about each other and eager enough. We agreed.
"He started with these boring ones, 'What made you dye your hair black', 'Do you prefer salty or sweet foods', and all that other shit. But then I asked him a question that made his eyes pop."
"What was it?" You ask. Gaeul pauses, but the anticipation is a welcome feeling. Her playful silence lets the anticipation rise in you.
"I asked him, 'My face or my ass'?" You both laugh. That was so typical of Gaeul. Typical, but ever so effective.
"And what did he pick?"
"My face, though I don't think he understood I was asking him where he would prefer to cum. His face was so innocent when he said it. I wanted to give him a pat on the head for such a good answer," she explains in an exaggerated cutesy voice.
"He was all the usual, 'Oh you're so pretty' and 'Oh you're so adorable'. Yadda, yadda, yadda. I'm not saying he wasn't right because I do look really pretty," Gaeul quipped, to which you smiled, and she continued, "It went on for a while, he started asking some... hotter things. About how and when I touch myself."
"Usual guy stuff, sure," you joke, and you take delight in how she snorts a little giggle.
"Sure, well, next came his inevitable, 'Want to head back to mine?' Of course, I said 'Yes'. Then he said he would call us a cab, which, thank god, because it's much harder to do hand stuff on a bus compared to a cab."
"But not impossible," you interjected, remembering how she once described being felt up by someone in a packed train car. The way she grinned as she recounted it made her quite the bad girl.
"Anyway, we get in the cab and he just can't keep his hands off me. All over my tits and shit," she lets out a dark chuckle before her voice falls deeper, lower, sensual, and with the emphasis of a dangerous edge, "Don't know if the driver appreciated it but I sure as fuck did."
"Tell me more," you say, putting Gaeul on loudspeaker and placing the phone on the pillow by your head. You lay flat on your back and stretch your muscles. The joints of your toes curl into the sheets and push them down into the mattress as you arc your spine, and the deep inhale you take through your open mouth is soon followed by a relaxed exhale.
"He just slipped his hand up my shirt while she kissed my neck," Gaeul continues, bringing the memory to life with her words. She recounts in precise and deliberate detail how her nipples went hard the instant she was touched, the electricity sparking inside of her as he pinched at them with thumb and forefinger.
There's a rustling from the other side of the call before she continues her story, "We get in his place, he gets the door locked behind him, and the first thing I feel is his hot breath against my ear. It was warm and it tickled just a little bit. Then he whispered in a low voice that I can tell he thought was seductive."
"What did he say?" You ask, eagerly.
"'Fuck, I've never been this horny with someone so quick before'," Gaeul says and pauses. You both share a small laugh before she goes on, "Honestly, I did think it was kinda sexy at the moment, you know? Then he pulls off my shirt. Doesn't even unbutton it, just over my head with all the buttons. Guess the horniness was getting to him."
"Can't blame him." you run your hand up your own torso, fingertips barely brushing over the smooth, warm skin.
"And fuck, I was horny too. I was hungry. I turned and pinned him to his door, you should have seen the shock on his face, and I planted a kiss right on his lips. He wasn't that great. Wasn't really my type of kisser, actually. Too stiff, his lips were too dry, but still a kiss. I guess," Gaeul gives every little detail about him; from how his height stood a whole head taller than her, to how his eyes shone in the dark with a hint of anticipation. "I wasn't there for the kissing, so it was fine, and that's when his hands grabbed my ass. He was so rough, you should have heard the smack his palm made as it landed."
You hum in approval and bring a hand between your legs. In your mind's eye, you see her ass being spanked and groped, and you feel yourself growing more aroused. "Go on."
"Rough hands," Gaeul breathes into the phone. "I fucking love it."
"Yeah..." You sigh grab hold of your thighs and stretch out the tension.
"I could feel it, how hard he was, poking through his trousers and into my stomach."
"You loved feeling how hard you got him, didn't you?"
"Fuck yeah," her voice, dripping in lust and sex, was deep and steady like it always was when she gets like this. "So I dropped to my knees, practically ripped open his belt buckle and pulled down his zipper. And those pants fell to his ankles just like that, and then came the thing I was actually there for."
"Let's hear it," you urged.
"Like I said, good size, that's for sure, I've seen way worse. No way near the biggest dick that I've taken though. Anyway, I start stroking him with one hand," Gaeul lets out a gasp. You're not quite sure if it's for the benefit of her storytelling, but her sounds have always driven you crazy. "And then with my other, I've got his balls cupped and he's fucking loving it.
"I could tell, his cock was getting so big and so hot. It throbbed so much in my hands, so much so I could feel the blood pumping through him. And my hands were moving faster, my lips, teasing his tip, kissing, nibbling, even licking. I loved every fucking second because his dick tasted so good. After all, I could feel how worked up he was. So, I took him whole, you should have heard him moan, it was the cutest groan,"
Gaeul then breathes out heavily into the microphone, and her breath hitches in her throat and comes out short and sharp. You close your eyes and try and imagine the scene, and Gaeul must be reliving it too as you listen to her soft, sharp, wet breathing over the line. You tease yourself and plead with her, "Don't stop."
"And I'm looking up at him, through my lashes, and his eyes are almost pleading like he was trying so hard to hold his cum. Like he's trying to impress me, prove to me how much stamina he has. He's letting little moans and grunts out from his cute little lips, he's gripping the door handle so tight his fingers were white, and his knees are trembling. He's about to cum in my mouth, and my pussy is aching for him," she continues and lets her sentence trail off into a whining moan as she imagines his dick twitching inside her mouth.
"So quickly?" You ask, pushing your underwear down to your knees.
"I'm just that good, babe. The second my mouth met the shaft of his cock he was practically ready to burst. My tongue was dancing over the head, and I could taste the precum," Gaeul recalls. Her voice sizzles in your ears, and it is more like a deep purr, and it sends thrills down your body. A soft exhale escapes your mouth, and you're imagining her tongue caressing a hard dick. "And I'm only sucking harder now, stroking him faster. My left hand gripping onto him tight and tugging away. My right cradling those balls of his."
"All to make him cum," you utter in an aroused voice that you tried to hide but couldn't.
"Shit babe, it worked. I didn't even have time to prepare for him," she recounts. "He bucks his hips into my mouth. Barely has a chance to grab my head, he just blows so soon. All his cum was hot, and he was flooding my mouth."
"Shit..." You moan softly as you visualise a young man bucking his hips and releasing into Gaeul's mouth.
"Did I just go over to his to swallow his cum?" She asks and gives a laugh.
"I hope not."
"You wanna know what's funny?"
"Tell me," you plead to her.
"He came so quick that he went bright red, embarrassed, stuttering like a schoolboy that got caught smoking by the principal. All the courage he built up earlier in the taxi ride was completely gone. I couldn't help but laugh, mouth full of his cum, laughing at him. But I'm not going to lie. As he deflated so fast after he blew, all that bravado disappeared."
You let out a soft, something, barely a laugh, hesitating to touch as Gaeul grinds the story to a halt.
"Not funny?" she asks.
"Just, wish you'd continue, kinda in the middle of something here."
"Sorry, okay, where was I," Gaeul trails her words. "So I swallowed every drop, wiped at my chin where I've spilt a little and the guy still looks like he's going to die. I wanted him to suffer in the embarrassment a little, I wasn't going to tell him 'It's okay', so I got up and pulled him across his apartment. The guy nearly fell over his trousers since they were still on his ankles until he kicked them off.
"So the guy is a bit of a clean freak, by the way, the apartment was spotless. Somehow, I'm leading him to his own bed, don't know where the fuck I'm going but I find it and push him onto it. At this point, the guy's half-naked, sprawled, with his hand over his dick."
"All shy after your pretty lips have gotten him off, huh?"
"Right." Gaeul laughs, "So I stand at the edge of his bed, kick off my sneakers then pull down my jeans and drop them beside him. Then, he's staring at me and I ask him, 'Like the view?'"
"Stupid question, you're smoking," you interject with a smirk on your lips.
"The guy says, and I quote, 'Holy cow.' Who the fuck says 'holy cow'? Holy cow, babe, just holy cow," Gaeul starts laughing something manic, a cackle which is matched with a soft sigh, "Then, I just kinda laughed, like really, really laughed. It's all absurd, you get what I mean?"
"Oh god no he didn't?" You asked though the amusement was already creeping through.
"Right? What an idiot. Well, he was turning redder and redder as I was dying of laughter. It's about this time I realised I was so horny I had seduced pretty much the biggest loser in the city. Anyway, I had to shut him up, so I climbed onto the bed, and then onto his face. Dropped myself onto his stupid mouth. And then..."
"Then?" you prod her on.
"His lips and his tongue..." She makes a small moan, pleased, deep and sexy, and the sound is so hot. "Hungry boy. He starts lapping at my pussy like he was starved. He's all groaning and humming, and the vibration. That feels fucking great."
"Oh fuck..." You let a tiny sigh, one that you meant to keep to yourself, escape your lips. Gaeul keeps talking and in your mind, you're there with her—her voice fills your mind and draws an image. She tells you how she fucks his mouth, your imagination takes over.
"His tongue dances on me, licking over my lips, my clit, his lips were smacking and sucking on my most sensitive parts. He was so... energetic," Gaeul tells you. Your eyes closed, you can only imagine, in full detail, every stroke and flicker of his tongue as she described it. "Worshiping my pussy like it's the best thing in the world. So when his hands are grabbing hold of my ass and bringing my cunt to him even harder... Shit," Gaeul breaks from the story and swears.
You can't hold back anymore, touching yourself to the thought.
"He wanted this so bad. His hands were clamping hard onto me. His mouth sucking on me like a fucking vacuum. His tongue was all over the place. Everywhere it touches is like a jolt of electricity going through me. It's sending such great signals up my spine, right to my brain." Gaeul lets out a full, deep moan. One that is as tantalising as her words. It's followed by the sound of rustling. "I start just grinding down into his stupid fucking face."
You'd love nothing else in the world right now than to have Gaeul ride your face. "I can't get over how fucking delicious you would look like," you tease, "With that dumb guy, pinned under you,"
"I was moaning like crazy. If the neighbours were asleep, well, not anymore," Gaeul describes.
"Fuck," you respond as you find rhythm. You lose track of everything else, picturing Gaeul riding his stupid face until she cums.
Gaeul moans again, louder now, and with a husky, raspiness to her tone that you have memorised.
"There is no shame left in me, my hips moving into him with a need, a need for release," Gaeul chokes, then resumes with a pace of her own, "I can feel his fingers digging deeper and deeper into my flesh, and he was rocking my cunt even harder into his hungry mouth. His tongue, working so good. So, good...
"Just remembering how it felt... I'm gonna..." Gaeul moans again, throaty and harsh, and you picture it all in your head. She is sitting up in bed, legs wide apart, and fingers buried deep inside of her pussy. Moaning into her phone, moaning to you.
It's an amazing fucking image.
"I can feel my entire body starting to go warm, my thighs clamping onto the poor guy's skull. Oh my fucking god, his tongue, I love it, his tongue," Gaeul makes a long, low and whimpering moan, like the air was squeezed out of her lungs. "It feels like I've lost myself in time, completely. I'm going faster, my hips rolling into him faster and faster, desperate for relief. Then all of a sudden, it's all hitting at once, the spark just lights and I am exploding like a supernova, my core just bursting, and my pussy flooding his fucking stupid mouth."
You're chasing her high. "Shit," you find yourself whispering, softly at first and getting louder as you feel yourself nearing that beautiful feeling of sweet relief.
"I'm cumming so hard, his tongue is still going, still drawing out every last bit of my climax as he keeps feeding on me. The sheer fucking madness of the sensation... fuck, imagine that."
"Yeah..." You groan. "I am."
"You're so filthy," her words drip of sultry sex and that tease in her voice sends a tremor down to the base of your spine, setting your insides ablaze as the blood in your veins rises, the throbbing inside you reaching an incomparable peak. "Are you getting off to my story? I fucking dare you."
You close your eyes and breathe in the thought of her. Every inch of her lustful body, "I am."
"Fucking perv," she growls, her breathing sharp and shaky, erratic. A sound that resonates within your bones, and shakes you to the core. "Bet you want your lips wrapped around my clit. Let you suck the sweet nectar from my tight, hot pussy," she breathes through her teeth in a hissing sound as she falls over that edge. You can feel her shiver and quake. You hear every little shuddering whimper, every moan that escapes her soft, pretty little lips, and they ignite every sense in your body as if you can feel the electricity coursing through every nerve in her body, just as it is inside you.
You cum for her. You always cum for her, just like this. Your toes curl and your back arches. You twist, writhing under the feeling, your skin blazing as sweat rolls over it, your whole world coming to a beautiful standstill. You can't help but cry out her name in your bed.
"Nothing else makes me cum like this," you mumble, breathless and ragged as you finish, then add "You slut."
"How does it make you feel, hearing my dirty sex stories first thing in the morning?" Gaeul purrs. There is a sinister satisfaction in her tone, and that coy smile curling the corner of her mouth is definitely there in her voice. You can imagine it clear as day because it has been etched into your brain, that stupid, irresistible grin of hers.
"More," you beg, the aftermath of your orgasm, leaving the inside of your body searing hot, a sensation that you want desperately more of.
"Not now. Later," she sneers, knowing how it kills you inside.
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maxwellatoms · 15 hours
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And a good executive dysfunction to you!
My stomach hurts.
I don't want to draw right now, but I really do want to draw in general. Just not now. Maybe... now?
No. Not yet.
There's a wasp's nest on the catio. I should be looking up how to remove it, but instead I'm in here writing this nonsense. I should be drawing.
It still smells like burning metal in here, so I probably am better off with the wasps. Did I mention that my bathroom caught fire this morning? Like an actual fire fire. I may have buried the lede on that one. I used to think it was "buried the lead", as though you'd skipped the information you meant to lead with. Fun that it still works.
Fire dept. said that there was a timer on the wall switch in the bathroom where we're having work done from the flood that happened after my birthday. When the timer tripped, a heating mesh coiled up by the wall caught fire. Thankfully, my fiancee' smelled the burning metal and we caught it early.
It's hard to make cartoons when your house keeps attacking you. Also, when you're not employed making cartoons. I'm trying some indie stuff, but again... can I get a break here? Let's just tone down the apocalypse. I'd like to get some stuff done. And my insurance runs out in two weeks.
But HA! Fincee'! So I still get insurance. Happy accidents. Suck it, world-- Oh hang on. Contractor is here...
I'm back! Where was I?
My fuchsia is on the rebound, I think. Passed it on the way back in. I don't want to call it a comeback, but it's flowering. I think maybe the pot retains too much water. We'll see how it goes. Thankfully it doesn't need much compost because I blew through the whole pile yesterday refiling the garden beds. I did the beds Hügelkultur style, but I used cacti in one of them, so the soil drop was insane after the first year. Free garden tip for ya' there.
Where was I?
To be fair, there's a lot of residual adrenaline going on this morning too.
Work.
Right...
Gotta get these drawings done. I said I'd do it by tomorrow. I only said it to myself, but I should maybe listen. Can I be trusted?
Just draw, dude.
It smells like cheese and apocalypse in here. Nothing I can do about the fried metal, but the cheese is from the toaster oven. I should go clean that now. Hang on. I'll be back.
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ihavethedreamies · 2 days
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Versace Royal | Hyunjin
Hwang Hyunjin - Stray Kids
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Rating: M (18+) MDNI
Word Count: ~4.3k
Pairing: Idol! Hyunjin x Idol! Older! AFAB! Reader
Genre: Request, Idolverse, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut
!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!
Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (M! Receiving), Shower Sex, Unprotected Sex (Not Recommended)
Summary: Hyunjin and you are both international ambassadors for Versace and the rumors are put to rest when you announce you are both officially dating at a Versace event.
Author's Note: Got a request for this! I'm so happy that one of you liked my stuff enough to want me to write something for you!
Also I am working on the historical AU still, but I'm low-key working for my uncle doing something so...
P.S. I would have had this done and up earlier today, but I had to watch the Chiefs game even though I only watch for Pacheco (#10) and he got a broken leg.
Also, Winwin is in this! Just briefly, I like to wiggle him in where I can.
I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!
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"Shit." You grumbled to yourself, looking in the mirror and scrubbing over your tooth with your finger to get the lipstick stain off.
"Here." Your stylist shuffled over to fix the error and as you held still for her, your eyes flitting over to Hyunjin. He was sitting in an armchair of the dressing room you two were assigned, scribbling on his tablet. He didn't have the jacket of his outfit on yet, sitting in just his tank top. Your eyes couldn't help but trace over his exposed arms, then back up to the slight furrow of his brow, the frown marring his beautiful face. Your stylist pulled back and she helped you get the dress you were to wear over the full-piece shapewear you had on.
"You don't need this you know." Your stylist whispered and you shrugged.
"I just wear it like a slip, I can't risk someone else trying to shoot up my skirt again." You looked at yourself in the mirror, not really loving your hair. It was pulled back into a tight low ponytail, and it made your facial features look too harsh.
"Sorry." The other woman whispered as she touched up your makeup. Your eyes flitted to Hyunjin again, his hair slicked back in a similar manner, but it looked good on him.
"Uh." His voice brought your attention back to him from your reflection in the mirror, a ding coming from his tablet.
"What?" You didn't bother hiding the apprehension in his voice.
"People already know we're here together." He sighed and you rolled your eyes so hard you worried you messed up your mascara.
"Not too surprising, we were on the same plane." You shook your head and when it was determined you were ready, the stylist moved on to Hyunjin.
"I don't wanna~" He whined, begrudgingly getting up from the armchair to sit at the vanity. As he shuffled toward you, you smiled at his bored look.
"Hold on." He paused you and so you halted, and he brushed something off the shoulders of your dress, then ran his hand over your smoothed hair.
"Careful, someone might think we're dating." You tried to hide your smile.
"We are dating." His deadpan tone nearly made you ruin your lipstick, but you halted your mouth before you stuck your tongue out like you had planned. Taking his place in the armchair, you couldn't help but glance at his still-on tablet. The article was open, and the title made you sigh.
"The Prince and Princess of Versace?" It seemed the name had left the K-Fanbase and had spread to even the international fashion press. It made you two seem more like brother and sister if you were the 'heirs' of Versace though. The article was topped with a picture of both of you with Donatella, but you two weren't in matching clothes in that one like you would be that day. Clicking your tongue, you grabbed the device and were about to look and see if there were any more articles, but you noticed his drawing app open. Looking up at him glaring at himself in the mirror, setting his intense expression for the night, you opened it, the image making you coo.
"You're drawing me?" You laughed at the glare he sent to you then.
"I always draw you." Hyunjin huffed and you giggled, wiggling in your chair and continuing to look at the news. Finding another article along the same lines, you drifted down to the comments, and your heart fell. Not only were there a bunch of his fans bashing you for what seemed like just standing next to him, even your fans were being mean too.
'He doesn't deserve her. She should date an actor.'
'He's the tallest in SKZ, but she still doesn't have to wear heels with him.'
'There's tons of other celebs and models there she could get, why go for another idol? Take some steps up girl.'
"I'm suing." You sneered.
"Stop reading comments." Your boyfriend scolded and you sniffed but relented.
"Don't wrinkle that, please, (Y/N)." The stylist then scolded you as well and you adjusted your posture. A knock on the door prompted a grunt from the man and a hum from you and his manager poked his head in the room.
"Donatella wants a photoshoot before the event." He announced and you sighed. Made sense. Your stylist hurried up her task and you helped her adjust and tweak Hyunjin's outfit once he got it on.
"Careful, people might think you like me or something." He teased you and you pinched him through the fabric of his tank top, and he yelped, making you giggle.
"Well, maybe I do…"
"Don't kiss him!" The stylist snapped and you halted. Yeah, red on his mouth would be a little too obvious, and she would have to fix both of yours make up as well.
"If some influencer tries to flirt with you, I'm going to scream." He grumbled, face still close to yours, also a bit cranky he couldn't kiss you.
"Same. But we just pretend I don't know English." You shrug playfully.
"You spoke with Donatella in English in the last video, good luck with that." You swore under your breath, finally letting go of his jacket that's gold and black fabric matched your dress's. Moving to go around him and start to leave the dressing room, he grabbed your wrists, pulling you back to him.
"No, no, come here one sec." He hauled you even closer, pressing you to him, nose barely grazing yours. His eyes met yours and the sharp look made you swallow hard, and the corner of his mouth twitched before he controlled it.
"Don't fucking wrinkle it!" The stylist more or less pulled him away from you and ran her hands over both of your garments to make sure they were fine.
"Go, and don't stop in a closet on the way!" She shoved you both out to be led away by your managers.
~~~
"Can you put and rest your arm on her shoulder, like with your elbow bent?" The shoot director motioned and Hyunjin followed suit, his forearm laying on your shoulder.
"Good!" You were glad that modeling shoots didn't want you to smile like all the pictures your mother took when you went home for Chuseok. Having him lean a bit on you made it harder to balance your own pose, legs crossed, all weight laying on one leg. You were in short heels, but they were still thin, and it made it harder to stay steady. You were glad the company never wanted your group to dance in heels, but your group had a more badass concept most times and so you got to wear boots or even sneakers.
"Careful." Hyunjin whispered in your ear, feeling your body shake a bit and he relaxed the pressure he was putting on you. You both followed the prompts of the director while the photographer continued shooting.
"What if we go with the prince and princess idea?" Your eyes flitted to Donatella, urging her with your gaze to shut up. She smiled playfully and your nose twitched.
"Like?"
"Get that chair, no, the fancy one!" The designer herself motioned and some staff started to move in a black velvet chair, and she came onto the set. She sat in the chair and then the director got the hint. You both were directed to stand behind and to the side of the chair, your hands on the back, postures straight. Just like the heirs to a queen.
"You saw that article?" You asked her when the shoot was done, and she smiled.
"Let's get going to the event now, I can be late but you two can't." She left to attend to who knows what and you gave Hyunjin a look and he huffed a laugh.
"(Y/N), Hyunjin." Your manager waved you over, his was on the phone.
"What?" He had spoken in a hushed tone, so you did too.
"The company wants you to announce your relationship tonight. They want to get ahead of the rumors."
"Tonight?" You hissed. There was no time to prepare, and the comments were already tearing both of you to shreds. The older man shrugged and finally Hyunjin's manager got off the phone.
"We're going to work with a few reporters that are here for Korean magazines, and they'll do a more or less scripted interview quick and that'll be it." The other manager informed, and you nodded, feeling a bit less nervous. You looked at your boyfriend then and he didn't look fazed.
"What?" You were still whispering.
"Maybe then guys will leave you be?" He was obviously still upset about the influencer that was flirting with you at the last event.
"Are you intimidated by a TikTok model?"
"No, but that doesn't mean I don't like them trying to get you back to their hotel room."  He was talking a little louder than you really wished for him to be, but he was using Korean so…
"You're getting me back to your hotel room, though?" You sent him a coy look and he rolled his eyes.
"No, we're going separate, then using the little door that’s in between them." He wiggled his finger back and forth and you exhaled a laugh.
"Let's just go to the red carpet…shoot…place." What did you call a red carpet than had no carpet, let alone a red one?
~~~
You waited to go up to get your photo taken at the Versace logo wall they had set up outside the runway hall, taking the chance to look around at who else was there. You recognized only a few people, and your heart sank a little not seeing a very familiar face.
"I thought Sicheng said he's done Versace shows before…" You clicked your tongue crankily, a group of three was better than just you two. Especially since Winwin was already a friend.
"(Y/N)." Hyunjin's voice caught your attention, and you strode forward to join him at the logo. The official and press photographers took a few pics and then Hyunjin moved on so you could do the solo shots.
"They could've put her in something shorter." You heard a voice murmur from the next spot in line and you shot a side glance over to look. Some guys with too chiseled of features and too greasy hair. Just pretend you don't know English. Just because your last interview with the designer herself was in English didn't mean everyone had seen it. They were probably famous or something, but they weren't even in Versace, so they were just guests or something. After the photographers thanked you, you nodded a bow and moved on, trying not to dash over to your boyfriend.
"Stupid dudebros." You huffed, adjusting your ponytail back behind you instead of over your shoulder.
"How old are you, noona?" Hyunjin teased and you shot him a look that made him laugh.
"I'm only a few years older, shut up." You told him not to call you that after you started dating since the other boys but Chan and Minho did as well.
"What'd they say?"
"Thought my dress could be shorter."
"Surprised they weren't wanting to see your tits."
"What tits?" You huffed, starting to lead him toward the actual runway hall and he scoffed.
"Just cuz' you're not stacked like Jihyo-noona doesn't mean you have no boobs." He sniffed and you shook your head, finding your designated seats at the side of the runway and sitting down. You adjusted your dress and set the bag they gave you along with it in your lap, crossing your ankles to the side. Every time you sat like that you thought of the Princess Diaries movie.
"You would know."
"I would know."
"Do you have any idea what the reporters will ask?" You moved on, still speaking quietly despite using a language most people likely did not know.
"No." He shot you a soft glance, "don't worry, we'll handle it together."
Through the fashion show, you tried to look genuinely interested, brain still looping on the press interview later.
"Stop looping." Hyunjin bumped you with his elbow as there was a gap between models. You took a deep breath and then let it out, genuinely noting the fabric of the purple dress the next model had on.
~~~
"You're shaking." Hyunjin wanted to just wrap his arm around you, or hug you, he could tell you were getting anxious. Normally press interviews were fine, but you were normally with your group, and you weren't the leader, just the eldest.
"I know." You desperately wanted to bite your thumbnail, that at least eased the strain on your teeth of your clenched jaw. But you had fake nails on and couldn't ruin them. You two were waiting for the specified reporters to show up and you wanted to bury and hide in his chest but couldn't. Even after the announcement you couldn't, it was too brazen of an act. Like it was muscle memory, when the press showed up, your shaking stopped, and you adopted a more even facial expression.
"(Y/N), how do you feel about being called the Versace Princess?" First question. Of course. Your manager got a look, and he shrunk a bit and you put on a practiced smile.
"I can't complain being called a Princess." Good.
"Hyunjin?" Same thing.
"Not the first time I've been called a prince."
"You two are matching today, did you know you would be?" The reporter was still looking at him.
"Yes, but I think five other people have the same pattern on." He joked.
"(Y/N), what was your favorite piece in the show?" A new reporter. You both answered a few more fashion-focused questions for the fashion magazine reporters, then you finally got the first nail-biter.
"There have been rumors going around for a while that you two are dating. Is there any merit?" You looked at your manager and he nodded.
"Well…maybe." You smiled softly, looking down and Hyunjin stepped a bit closer.
"We thought coming with matching outfits made that a bit obvious." Your boyfriend added and the flashes from the camera's increased and you felt more eyes than before going to you.
"So, you two are dating?" Deep breaths.
"Yes." The reporters started murmuring and you were led to believe they knew beforehand, but they clearly didn't. Some were already typing on their phones, and you swallowed hard.
"Okay, if there are any more questions, they can be referred to JYP Entertainment." Your managers stepped in and the motioned for you two to sneak off and head toward the after party that was in the next building over.
~~~
"Oh, thank you." You gratefully took the glass of champagne from the waiter that immediately came over as you both entered the building for the after party. Hyunjin took one as well and you took a sip, then grimaced at the taste.
"You've never liked wine." Hyunjin huffed a laugh, and you sneered at him, then downed the rest. You set the empty glass on another waiter as he passed and headed straight for the food.
"These portions are too small." You grumbled, not even knowing what most of the little appetizers were.
"Don't eat that one." Hyunjin stopped you, mouth full of something, before you grabbed what looked like a little sandwich.
"Why?"
"It's not good." He shook his head, and you ended up just grabbing what you hoped was a cookie. Tasted like one anyway.
"There you two are!" Donatella's voice caught both of your attention, and you felt immediately calmer with her there.
"So, it’s official? Everyone knows now?"
"You knew we were dating before?" Hyunjin asked her and she gave him a bored look.
"I just wish we didn't have to be the ones to announce it." You shook your head, looking around nervously.
"Keep an eye on her, some of the guests have been saying some…unsavory things." The designer warned and you shook your head as she moved on to mingle more. At the last event there was a bunch of horny internet celebrities, and it seemed they were present that  day as well.
"Hyunjin!" Your boyfriend's manager called to the man and waved for him to come over.
"(Y/N), stay there, it would be suspicious if you both went missing." He told you and you froze in place. Watching them leave with wide eyes, you huddled closer to the food table, hoping to appear invisible.
"So, you're a K-pop girl or something right?" You flinched, turning to look at who approached. You couldn't place his accent, and you had no idea who he was to go off of that.
"Uh, yes. You are…?" You really wanted a drink but there was only champagne and wine. He told you his name and when no recognition passed over your face, he scoffed slightly but readopted his ‘charming’ expression.
"So, you know Blackpink?" You tried not to roll your eyes, watching him pick something to eat. His suit looked too small for him, and he had an arrogant aura. He crooked an eyebrow with a smolder, and you forced a smile.
"Um, no. I don't."
"BTS though right?"
"Um, no."
"Isn't your friend in BTS?" He motioned vaguely to the side and your brow twitched in annoyance.
"No, he's in the group Stray Kids."
"They were at Coachella." He pointed to you like he figured it out, smirking around his sip of champagne.
"No. That was ATEEZ." You hated dealing with people like him and it seemed he was mixing his ignorance with arrogance.
"Were they the ones that had Ryan Reynolds in their music video?"
"Yes." You smiled a bit more; actually glad he figured it out.
"What is your group called?" You begrudgingly told him.
"So, you like sing and dance and stuff."
"Well, um, yes." You looked around you, hoping and praying that anyone would come, but mostly Hyunjin or your manager.
"You the leader?"
"No, the eldest."
"How old are you?" He looked you up and down and you winced, feeling nauseated. You felt a familiar presence behind you, and you relaxed some feeling them. He didn't say anything, and you turned, slightly surprised to see Sicheng and not Hyunjin.
"I didn't know you were here?" You asked in Korean then and he was staring the guy down. For being so cute and pretty he was good at looking mad.
"We didn't make the runway." He told you and the other man huffed.
"This your boyfriend then?" He looked at Winwin patronizingly. You rolled your eyes.
"No, I am." Both you and Sicheng relaxed, and the annoying man turned, taking a step away when Hyunjin shoved past him.
"Thanks, hyung." He whispered to Sicheng who nodded and took a few steps away to grab something to eat.
"Is Ningning here?" You turned to him then, letting Hyunjin block you from the jerk.
"No, sorry. Who is that?" He nodded at the offender, wrinkling his nose at the food options. You told him and he shook his head, having no idea either.
"If you ever want to know what it feels like to really be treated like a woman, Miss (Y/N), I'm always available." He called around Hyunjin and you hated hearing your name come from him.
"Fuck off." You hardly ever heard your boyfriend sound that angry; he must have learned the tone from Minho.
"Excuse me!" A girl's voice drew everyone's attention and a few younger women who were probably beauty influencers shuffled up with pads of paper.
"Can we get you three's autographs?" You were grateful for the distraction and you each took turns signing for the three girls. The jerky man tried to take the pen next from Hyunjin and one of the fans shot him a look.
"Who are you?" This put a hard blow on his ego, and you held back a laugh, thanking the girls as they trotted away.
"He left." Hyunjin sighed, stepping closer to you, pressing his chest to your shoulder.
"You okay?"
"Yes. Thank you, oppa." You smiled at Winwin, and he smiled back.
For the rest of the after party you were able to avoid any more assholes, they seemed to not want to come over with both of the K-pop boys with you.
"I'm so fucking tired." You groaned, tapping your keycard against the lock of your hotel room and your boyfriend hummed in agreement, entering his own room. The door between the rooms was already open and he ended up just coming to your side and flopping on the bed.
"You'll wrinkle it." You warned, and he whined, getting off the bed  and immediately stripping down to his underwear.
"Jinnie." You huffed in amusement, picking up the garments and when you stood back up from crouching, he was already wiggled under the blankets. He hadn't even untucked them from under the mattress. You shook your head, hanging up his clothes in the garment bag, then removing your own piece and adding it.
"I'm showering." You told him and he didn't respond.
"I'm leaving the door unlocked!" You called and you could hear him wrestling to get out from the comforter as you laughed. You had just let your shapewear fall before he shoved the door open and your back hit the sink counter when he pinned you to it. His lips quickly swallowed yours, no longer needing to care about the transfer of lipstick. You whined, fingers cascading over the skin of his base torso, tongue trying to keep up with his. When he pulled away you took the chance to spin him around and pin him to the counter, laying kisses over his neck and chest, leaving red lip marks all over his skin.
"Wait, (Y/N), you don't-" He sighed as you sank to your knees, leaving fainter marks on his tummy. His cock was half-hard, and you palmed over it through his boxer briefs, and he grunted. You kissed over the fabric making him nearly whimper, and you whined yourself when you pulled his undergarment down, his fully hard cock springing out. You hummed, licking your lips, then eagerly sucked the tip into your mouth.
"Shit." Sweat had already broken on his forehead, and he leaned further back to steady himself, the cold marble of the sink made him shiver. When the tip of his dick hit the back of your throat, you used your hands to hold the other half of his cock, bobbing your head. Hyunjin reached out, managing to find the shower knob and turn the water on, getting it warm. His hand petted over your hair, then tightened, pulling you back. The sting at your scalp made you shudder in delight, your dazed eyes meeting his sharp ones.
"Get in, face the wall." He pulled you up and you were glad the shower was a walk-in. You sighed as the hot water met your tense shoulders, but you squeaked when he joined, pressing his chest to your back. Your breasts pressed to the still cold wall of the shower, and you squeaked as his fingers met your cunt.
"What got you so wet?" Hyunjin hummed in your ear, and you swallowed, trying to think of how to get words out.
"W-when you told that guy to fuck off."
"So long ago?" He chuckled, removing his fingers too soon, making you huff. Before you could even think of complaining or pleading for him, he had bucked his hips, burying his fat cock in one thrust all the way. Your breath left your lungs, the burning sting sending shocks of pleasure up your spine and down your legs. There was almost no room between you two as he pressed even closer, arms wrapping around your middle and holding your hip. He let you take a few breaths to adjust, kissing your neck, the heat of the water and his cock inside you set your blood on fire. One of hands moved to cup your breast, kneading the flesh and you whimpered.
“These are perfect.” He pinched your nipple and you squeaked, then whimpered.
"M-move." You were nearly up on your tip toes, body wound so tight.
"Oh, fuck!" You gasped as Hyunjin began fucking you in earnest, not building, battering his cock deep inside you. Your cunt spasmed as you gasped for air, fingers not able to find anything to hold onto on the slick wall, cheek pressed to the cold tile.
"You're just perfect, (Y/N). Your pussy was made for me, no one else can have it." His hand splayed over your lower tummy, the sensitive skin there twitching under his palm.
"I don't want anyone else to anyway." You managed to get out, his cock kissing your cervix with each roll of his hips.
"Cum for me (Y/N), yeah?" He hummed as he felt the familiar clenching of your gummy walls, his fingers rolling over your clit, sending you over the edge. Hyunjin filled you as deep as he could, grinding into you to help you ride your high, trying to fight his own.
"Fuck, please Hyunjin!" You whimpered, your orgasm seeming to last for hours.
"Well," he chuckled breathily, "if you insist." He bucked his hips a few more times and you both sighed as his hot cum painted your core white. Panting, you couldn't tell whether his skin was slick from the water or his sweat, but either way you both needed to actually shower.
~
"You know, I don't mind being the Prince and Princess of Versace." He told you softly as you laid in bed together, bundled up in your pajamas. Round two and probably three would occur otherwise and you both needed to be up early for your flight.
"No?"
"It's more like Prince William and Princess Kate than us being siblings."
"We're not married, Hyunjin." You huffed and he nodded sleepily.
"For now."
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Master-Master List
Stray Kids Master List
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mrs-elsie-barnes · 16 hours
Text
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Back To Work | Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader | Drabble - 800 words
Retirement, a new house, a romantic evening planned, Bucky just knew that life was all going too well . Especially when he starts being hounded to return to his superhero life.
Warnings: language, fluff, a little angsty at the end. Featuring domestic thunderbolts Bucky.
Dividers by @firefly-graphics and @reveriesources
Masterlist | Bucky Barnes
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“Bucky, are you ready to go baby?” Your voice carried through from the living room as he clicked his arm back into place, shrugging his shoulder to get the fit right. 
You'd been excited all day, buzzing around the new house and opening boxes, trying to unpack at the same time as finding the perfect outfit. Bucky was only half regretting making plans so soon after moving, sure it was stressful trying to dig out his nice shoes from the piles of boxes and bags, but seeing you so happy was completely worth it and knowing you’d be coming home to your house, together, was just the icing on the cake. 
Now the sun was setting and you had turned on the downlighters in the kitchen, void of your usual clutter it looked lonely. 
“Just checking my phone, Doll.” He called back picking the offending item up from the counter - so many missed messages, he sighed.
 He'd been better recently, replying to Sam and catching up with him every week or so. He'd even managed to facetime Steve in his retirement home. He quite enjoyed the easy freedom of digital communication. But today, of all days, it had been pinging non-stop all driving him crazy during the drive and ruining the relaxing and, he hoped, romantic atmosphere he was trying to create. 
“Come on, baby, I don't want to be late.” You strolled into the kitchen and he dropped the phone again to focus his attention on you instead, taking in your dress and heels, your lipstick perfectly done. How could he worry about a stupid phone when you were together. 
“C’mere,” he pulled you close, tucking you under his chin and planting a kiss to the top of your head. 
He smelt lovely, fresh from the shower but with the hint of cut wood from building furniture. His vest revealed the hint of his dog tags, outlined under the fabric, as well as his tanned skin from a summer well spent outside, your traced your fingers over the chain and up his neck. Tangling your fingers in his long hair you tugged him down for a kiss. 
“Love you, Buck.” You whispered against his lips, heat surging through you just at his presence. 
“Love you too.” His lips tickled your cheek, behind your ear, and then he was swinging you up onto the counter. 
“Don't make us late!” 
“If you don't like it, stop giggling.” His fingers tickled up your bare legs, eyes twinkling with desire. 
Ping 
“That fucking phone,” Bucky growled, grabbing it again. More messages, more missed calls. 
“You should see what they want,” wrapping your arms and legs around him as you tugged Bucky closer, every line and curve fitting against him perfectly. He was sun warmed and cuddly, still ridiculously strong, but the hard lines and plains had softened since his retirement and you couldn’t get enough. 
“Fine, for you, then we're going to go and have a nice dinner and I'm leaving this stupid thing here.” He grumbled, chin on top of your head. 
You giggled again, leaving kisses on his chest. Bucky was so attached to that thing you didn't believe it for a second. Until his breathing went funny, heartbeat speeding up beneath your cheek. 
“What is it?”
His eyes had lost their sparkle, looking sad and serious. 
“I might have to rearrange dinner.” 
“What? Why?” You couldn’t see the phone, but his eyes raced across whatever he’d been sent.
“Where did we pack the gear?”
“The what? Oh - uh,it's in the trunk, in the garage but -” 
Bucky slid away, eyes glazed, focussed, intent and you were suddenly so cold without his presence.Your heart sank listening to the movement in the garage on the other side of the wall. 
He emerged ten minutes later, his smart trousers and vest discarded in favour of leather, the dirty t-shirt he'd been wearing while you were unpacking was back and he’d at least grabbed his soft leather jacket for protection. 
You threw yourself into his arms, tears springing to your eyes. “Are you needed?” 
“I think so,” his voice was low, sinking into the headspace required to take on whatever danger was lurking. 
“Come back to me in one piece, okay?” Your voice cracked, arms squeezing him impossibly tight.
“Of course, doll.” He looked at you then, tears welling in his own eyes, his lips so soft against your own. 
“You're my hero, you know that? You don't have to do anything else?” 
He nodded, letting you slide back to the floor, heels clicking on the tile in a sad reminder of your ruined evening. 
“I love you, Bucky.”
“I love you, lock the door behind me, okay? Don’t let anyone, anyone, in.” 
It was your turn to nod, you knew the protocols, the rules that reassured him. 
His bike roared to life, then he was gone, and you were alone in the echo of your home. 
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gguk-n · 1 day
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Hi could please write one where the reader is bengali and celebrates Durga Puja with Lando in india ( ollie or kimi works too but I'm not sure if you write for them)?
I did a ‘spin the wheel’ and got Ollie.
Puja Vibes
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Ollie was as white as white gets and his girlfriend was the embodiment of the Bengali culture prancing around. She had helped Oliver expand his horizon; taught him new experiences and delicious food. She will argue, that there’s no dessert like Bengali dessert.
So, when it was time for Y/N to return home for Durga Puja, Ollie would be joining her too since he had no races or prior commitments.
They hadn’t dated for long but Ollie had showered her with gifts on Christmas and taught her all his family traditions. Y/N just wanted to do the same for him.
At the airport, they landed together with Ollie in tow who was enamoured by the hustle and bustle of the city. He saw cows crossing the road like it was another Tuesday and no one batted an eye. Y/N pointed out all the building explaining the significance and the reason behind their construction during the colonial era on the way to her home.
At home, preparations for Durga Puja were in full swing. Y/N’s uncle and aunt had decorated their house ornately. Oliver greeted everyone.
The festivities would start the next day. Everyone was up bright and early for the invocation (bodhon) Oliver was mesmerised by the shining lights and the bright colours and the beautiful way Goddess Durga was dressed.
The main event was Maha Ashtami which Y/N’s father had great pleasure in explaining to Oliver. Oliver was like a kid in a candy store; eyes wide open and mesmerised by the events unfolding in front of him.
You would find the poor boy following Y/N around like a lost puppy. It was adorable watching him hold onto her saree palo as she walked in front of him. “Lemme hold your hand” Ollie whined. “Everyone is here for the festival. What will the elder’s think?” Y/N reasoned. In Indian culture, blatant show of affection was frowned upon especially in the older generations, the younger ones couldn’t care less. That’s why Ollie was walking around holding her palo.
They were stood next to each other while Y/N’s mother made the preparations for Maha Ashtami. “Your dress looks so beautiful. Red truly is your colour” Ollie said. “Thank you babe” she said. “How did you do this?” He asked playing with the folds. “My mum helped. I’m still pretty bad at tying a saree” she said. “Is that what it’s called? A saree” he said enunciating each word. “Yup, it’s an Indian traditional wear but everyone wraps the cloth around them differently, depending on the region of the country” she explained. His mouth formed an O in understanding.
They finished up the celebration with all the rituals being done and Oliver asking way too many questions each step of the way.
On the last day after Vijaya Dashami, after the immersion in the water everyone returned back home, exhausted by the events of the past days when Y/N’s cousin showed her a video; actually a few.
One video, had Ollie following her around like a lost puppy. The other one was of him holding her palo so as to not get lost. And the last one was straight out of a Shah Rukh Khan movie where Ollie’s watch had gotten stuck in her palo and he tried to free himself while actively trying to follow her and not let her know that he might fray her outfit. Eventually, he did free himself but his eyes never left her as he walked behind her.
She showed the video to Ollie and the Shah Rukh Khan scene from Om Shanti Om. Ollie was seen laughing, “didn’t know I would be getting my Bollywood moment this year during Puja” she said. “I’m happy I could be of service, m’lady” he said tipping his imaginary hat. “I would still have loved if it was Shah Rukh Khan” she teased. “Wow! I can’t believe this.” He acted hurt with his hand on his chest. “You are unbelievable.” She muttered pressing her lips on his cheeks. “Don’t try to bribe me with kisses” he huffed. “I’m not. I love you my cute little bear” she cooed. “I’m not cute” he huffed again. “Sure, my rasgulla” she laughed pinching his cheeks. “I like that dessert. Can I have some more?” He replied lost in thought. “I’m sure my mother will find great pleasure in feeding you” she said laughing. “Let’s go” she said pulling him along. “I love you Y/N.” Ollie called out while being dragged along. “I love you too” she replied turning to look at him.
Y/N’s family cooed at them, young love
Hope you liked it! I tried my best
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jetii · 1 day
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hello lovely!!! if you have the time for it with your follower celebration, i’d looooove #21 with hunter 🤭 or if you get too many reqs for him with howzer or wolffe! tysm, and congrats on this big milestone!!!! 💗💗💗💗
okay so i got a lot of requests for #21 so i'm trying to do something different for each! also a slightly different style than i'm used to with some slightly more unhinged smut. @a-cryptid-called-magetha come get your man
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A Game
Pairing: Hunter x fem!Reader
Words: 5,049
Tags/Warnings: angst with a happy ending, smut, friends with benefits to lovers, Frat Batch era Hunter, semi-public sex, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, dirty talk, underwear kink?, the most dominant Hunter I'll ever write, he's still a simp tho
Prompt: 21. “Moan a little louder, cyare. Let all of 79s know who’s fucking you.”
500 Follower Celebration Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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You’ve played this game a hundred times, so you know that when Hunter meets your eyes across the bar, you have a choice. You can walk over and talk to him, or you can ignore him. 
The first will take you on the route of the seducer. He’ll buy you a drink, and you’ll let him. You’ll let him slide his hands up your skirt, and you know where it ends.
You can already feel him behind you, his breath in your ear, his lips on your skin. You can hear him say the things he always says, the words that’ll make you feel like there’s no one else who has ever made you feel the way that he does. He won't be wrong.
Or, you can look away, and let him come to you. The seduced. It isn't like he won't find his way over. It isn't like he isn't always there. You'll pretend that you don't see him until you feel the heat of him right behind you, his presence filling the room, his hands on the back of your chair.
You'll pretend you're not thinking about him and what you could do with him. You'll pretend not to want it, because you know the game, and you know how to play it well.
You can tell yourself that you aren't going to give in. You're not going to let him kiss you, and touch you, and fuck you. But it's a lie. You are going to. And it infuriates you that you're still doing this. It makes you angry, and you can't quite figure out why.
You don't look at him again, because if you look at him, you'll be done for. It's not that you haven't had this conversation a thousand times. It's just that sometimes it feels like it's not a game anymore. It feels like something real, and you hate the part of you that wants to believe that. You hate the part of you that still lets you think that there's a chance.
So you don't look. And, even though he's the hunter, it's you who waits. It's you who watches. You don't have to turn your head to see him. You don't have to watch. You already know how it will play out. You're only here for the ending.
Hunter doesn't come to you right away. He takes his time, talking to his squad, pretending that he isn't watching you, pretending that he doesn't know exactly where you are. You know he can see the tension in your body. You can see it too, because you can't stop the way your hands clench, the way your thighs shift, the way your back straightens. You can't keep from turning your head to look at him.
It's then that he makes his move. He crosses the room to stand beside you, and the rest of the bar fades into the background. He doesn't touch you, doesn't even come close. Instead, he leans in and speaks, and his words are the ones that make you weak. "Let me get you a drink."
The thing is, you shouldn't let him. This isn't supposed to be happening. You aren't supposed to be here. Not with him.
"No." You shake your head. It's the first time you've ever said it, and you aren't sure how it feels. "I'm not interested."
He gives you a look, like maybe he doesn't understand what's happening, like he didn't expect to have to try this hard. Then, he looks down, and when his eyes meet yours again, you feel something shift. He knows.
His voice is different when he speaks, and he's so much closer now. "Are you sure?"
"Yes." You nod, and it's not the first lie you've told tonight, but this one feels better, and so does the next one, the one where you tell him, "I have to go."
You leave the bar, and he doesn't follow. Not this time.
It's a good start.
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The second time, you're not going to give in.
You don't know if you can say no again, but you have to try. Because there are things that matter. Things like love, and trust, and respect. There's a future.
You want that future. You want it more than anything, and that's what you have to remember.
Hunter walks in, and you think maybe he's going to ignore you. He’s talking with one of his brothers, the one that joined the Batch a few months back, and they seem engrossed in whatever they're talking about. You feel a flood of relief, and maybe a little disappointment.
But then, Hunter meets your eyes, and you realize that he hasn't forgotten. Across the floor, you're frozen in place, and all the things you should say, all the things you should do, have left your head. His eyes are dark, and the room is crowded, but somehow, it's like there's no one else here.
When he looks at you, it's like the whole world is falling away.
You're the first to break the contact, looking down and away, pretending you didn't see him. You feel a flush creeping up your neck, and you hope no one notices.
You can't do this.
You shouldn't do this.
It's the only thing on your mind as the music pounds through the speakers, and the crowd surges around you. It's all you can think about, and it's distracting, because you keep seeing him in your peripheral vision. It's like he's everywhere, and you can't escape.
You know that if you turn your head, he'll be there, and if he's there, then this will all be over. He'll come to you, and you'll let him. It will be like every other time, and you'll wonder why you tried, why you thought you could say no, why you thought it was worth a try.
He'll be there. You know he will.
You keep your head down, and your eyes averted. You focus on the lights and the music and the crowd. You focus on your feet, and your hands, and the glass in front of you. You don't think about Hunter.
Someone else approaches you. Not Hunter. Someone you don't know, and it's nice. This is the kind of thing you came here for. This is the distraction you needed.
You aren't sure why it makes you feel worse.
You go home alone.
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The third time, Hunter comes to you, and it's over.
He doesn't wait. He doesn't ask. He's already got his arm around your waist, and his lips are pressed to your throat, and you've got no choice. There's no way to stop this, and no way to walk away.
"I missed you." He breathes the words into your ear, and there's no one else, not for a single moment, who could ever matter the way he does. You can't even remember what your life was like before him.
"You saw me a few days ago."
"It's not enough." His hands are in your hair, his hips pressed against yours. "Not anymore."
You have no answer to that. There's no reply.
Hunter pulls away, and he's still holding you, and when he speaks again, the words are low and urgent. "Don't make me beg. Please."
Your hand is on his chest, and you're not sure if you're trying to push him away or hold him closer. You've never heard him sound like this before, and it's something new. Something terrifying.
Something hopeful.
"Okay," you tell him.
Hunter exhales, and his arms tighten around you. He rests his forehead against yours, and there are a million things you want to say. You could say them. He might listen.
"Come on." He doesn't kiss you. He doesn't even let go. He just takes a step back, and you can't stop yourself from following. You know what's going to happen.
This is the part of the game you can't stop playing.
You aren't surprised when Hunter pulls you into the nearest darkened corner. He isn't gentle, and he doesn't stop moving. When you're alone, it's like he can't get close enough, can't touch you enough.
It's like this time, he wants to prove that he's still got a hold on you. That this hasn't changed.
It hasn't.
His lips are against your neck, and his fingers are digging into your hips. He's everywhere, and all you can think about is how this was a mistake. You knew it would be.
It's just that it's so hard to remember why.
“Hunter...” Your voice sounds strange, and Hunter lifts his head to look at you. His eyes are so dark, and the light from the main room glints off his tattoo.
When he meets your gaze, he stops. You see the realization cross his face, and it's not what you expected. You thought he'd keep going. You thought he'd push. You didn't think he'd care.
He doesn't speak, and neither do you. You're not sure how long you stay like that. Seconds. Minutes. Hours.
You don't say anything. There are no words. There's just him, and you, and the fact that, after all these months, the rules have changed.
For a moment, he almost looks scared, and you don't know what to say.
"I don't..." He looks away, and you can tell that he's struggling, trying to figure out what's happening, and what he's supposed to do. It's the first time you've seen him this unsure, and it's your fault.
"Hunter." This time, when you say his name, his eyes meet yours. He's not hiding anymore, and he's still touching you. You can still feel his breath on your face.
You've played this game a hundred times, but the stakes have never been higher.
"I can't."
Hunter frowns, and the confusion on his face is obvious. He doesn't understand. You're not sure if it's because he never believed that you could stop, or because he never expected that you would.
"You said—"
"I know what I said."
He takes a step back, and the space between the two of you is wide, and empty, and cold. The air is different without his hands on your skin.
"Did I do something?"
"No,” you say. You shake your head, and then, because there are some things you can't deny, you add, "Yes."
"Tell me." He's still standing so close, and when his voice drops, your breath catches. He puts his hand on your arm, and when he slides it up to your shoulder, his thumb grazes your collarbone. "Whatever it is, I can fix it. Tell me."
He's not listening, and he doesn't hear you. If he did, then this wouldn't be a problem.
"I don't want to do this anymore."
His hand freezes. "You don't want..."
"This," you say. You gesture to the space between the two of you. "This thing where we pretend that nothing's happening. It's not just sex anymore, Hunter. I'm not some random stranger. This means something."
He's still frowning, and you're not sure he gets it. "Of course it means something."
"No," you say. You're getting frustrated, and he still isn't letting go of you. "You don't get it. You need to take a step back, and we have to figure out what we're doing here. Because I can't do this, and—"
"What?"
"I can't have a casual relationship." The words are rushed, and quiet, and everything comes spilling out at once. "I can't have a sex-only, friends with benefits, no strings attached relationship. Not with you. I want more. I've wanted more since the day I met you."
Hunter opens his mouth, and then closes it again. He looks like you've hit him, and you want him to say something, to say anything. But he doesn't, so you speak for him.
"I can't keep pretending that it doesn't matter. I can't keep lying. It's too much." You take a deep breath. "So, no. I can't. Not anymore. We can't."
Hunter doesn't move. He doesn't say anything. He’s preternaturally still, and there are so many things you wish he would do, but this is not one of them.
It hurts more than you could have imagined, and it's more than you can bear. You feel like you can't breathe, and like the only thing holding you together is his hand on your arm. He's staring at you like he doesn't recognize you, and you have to look away.
It's only a moment, and then Hunter moves. His fingers drag up to your chin, tilting your head up so you're forced to meet his eyes. You're caught. Held in place by the intensity of his gaze.
"You really don't know, do you?"
You blink. You aren't sure what to say, so you don't say anything.
"This isn't casual. Not for me,” he says, his voice rough, and his eyes search your face, like he's trying to make sure that you're understanding what he's saying.
You're not sure you are.
"I haven't touched anyone since the day we met." He pauses, and the words are like a blow, knocking the wind from your lungs. "Not anyone. Not ever."
He keeps talking, and you're not sure what's happening.
"I didn't lie. Not ever. I never told you how I felt, but that's not because I didn't care."
"Hunter..."
"You're not the only one who feels something," he says, and his voice is low, and desperate, and full of all the things you've never allowed yourself to believe. "There is no one else. There never was. Just you."
He's not playing the game anymore.
"I'm not pretending," he says. "This matters."
You can't speak. Your throat is tight, and your heart is pounding. You want to believe him, and it's almost too much.
"You—"
"Yes," Hunter says. He nods, and then he smiles. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."
He leans in, and you're frozen. You can't move. It's like the world has stopped.
"Do you understand now?" he asks, and he's close. So close.
"Yeah," you breathe.
Hunter's eyes close, and he exhales. "Good."
Then, his lips are on yours, and this isn't like any other kiss you've shared. This isn't a game. It's different. Everything is. It's like the first time, but better, because this time, you both know where you stand. This is a beginning, not an ending.
"I've wanted this for so long," he murmurs, and his lips trail down your neck. "I thought... I didn't know."
"Me too," you whisper. "I didn't want to hope."
"I know." Hunter's hands slide under the hem of your shirt, and his fingers dig into your hips. His mouth is against your ear. "But, now, I want to know what else I've been missing."
"Me too," you say. "Stars, me too."
"Yeah?" He's still smiling, and he's not stopping, and you've never been more turned on. "You gonna show me, then?" 
"Oh, yes," you say. You guide him back with a gentle shove of his shoulders, but you don't let him go far. The door to the women’s restroom is right behind you, and without thinking, you grab the lip of his chest plate and drag him inside. He laughs as he follows you in, and the sound makes you smile, but then, he's not laughing anymore.
Hunter slams the door shut behind him, throwing the lock into place. You don't waste any time, pushing him back against the door, and he groans. He's already reaching for the hem of your shirt, but you've got other plans.
It's easy to slide to your knees, and when you reach for the buckle of his belt, Hunter's eyes are wide, and dark. His breath catches as you unlatch his codpiece, and toss it to the floor. You don't wait, pulling his cock free, and Hunter's head thunks back against the door.
"You don't have to—"
You take him into your mouth, and his words dissolve into a moan. It's been too long since the last time, and the weight of him on your tongue, the taste of him, is better than you remember. The thick vein that runs along the underside is throbbing, and you press your tongue against it, feeling him twitch in your mouth.
He's already breathing hard, his hands on the door behind him, as though he's not sure what to do with them. He's got one foot braced against the tile, his hips shifting restlessly, and when you glance up, his eyes are closed, his mouth open, his face slack.
He's beautiful.
You don't have time to think about that, not with him filling your mouth, the head of his cock bumping the back of your throat, his fingers threading through your hair. His hands are gentle, guiding, not pushing. You can feel his restraint, the way he's trying to hold himself still, the tension in his thighs as he rocks against you.
You hum, and Hunter gasps, his hips bucking, his cock thrusting deep. He hits the back of your throat, and you moan, and it's the first time that he tightens his grip, the first time that his voice breaks. "Oh, fuck."
His hand is cupping the back of your head, holding you close, and when he pulls back, the drag of your lips over his cock is obscene.
"I'm sorry. I didn't—"
You cut him off with a lick along the slit at the tip, and Hunter moans. He doesn't seem to be able to look away, his eyes glued to the sight of you on your knees, and the way his cock disappears into your mouth.
"Fuck, I've missed you."
You laugh, and the vibration of it makes Hunter shudder. He's shaking, and when he meets your eyes, his own are burning. "I mean it. You don't know what it was like. Watching you walk away."
You take him deeper, and his words come faster, like he's finally getting it out. "It's always like this. Every time I'm close to you, I can't think. The way you look, the way you feel, fuck, the way you smell."
His cock slips from your mouth, and you suck a line down the length, and then back up. He's leaking, and you lap at the salty tang of his release, swirling your tongue over the sensitive head. 
"All I can think about is burying myself inside of you, and fucking you until you're screaming. I don't know what you do to me, but it's too much."
He's rambling, and his fingers are tugging your hair. You can feel the tension in his body, the way he's shaking. "It's too much. It's always too much, and it's never enough."
You know exactly what he means. You can feel it every time he's near. It's a pull, a draw, and a need. There's a part of you that is always searching for him, that needs him closer, and closer still.
It's maddening.
"I can't stop wanting you."
You've never heard Hunter talk like this, and it makes you moan. The sound is muffled around his cock, and it's like the last of his self-control evaporates.
"Get up here."
He tugs your hair, and you can hear the urgency in his voice. He's not waiting. Not anymore.
His cock slides from your mouth, and his hand wraps around the back of your neck, hauling you to your feet. His lips are on yours, and the kiss is rough and biting, his tongue thrusting deep. You can taste him, and you can feel the way he's shaking.
You've never seen him like this, and it makes you want more. It's intoxicating, and addictive, and all you can think about is how much more he's going to give.
He doesn't give you time to catch your breath. He's spinning you, and you're facing the sink, your hands gripping the edge. He doesn't ask as he rips his gloves off and tosses them into the sink, but you can see the question in his eyes. He doesn't have to.
You nod, and it's all he needs. Hunter's hands are on your waist, and then he's yanking your skirt up, and his fingers are sliding between your legs. He curses, and when he pulls his hand away, his fingers are glistening with your wetness.
“All this from my cock in your mouth, and I've barely touched you." His words are a low rumble, his breath warm against your ear. "Is this what you wanted? Me to take you hard and fast, so that anyone who walks in can hear how good I make you feel?"
Your thighs clench, and Hunter groans, his voice cracking. "Do you have any idea what it does to me, knowing that I'm the only one who can make you come like this?"
"You're the only one I want." Your voice is breathy, and uneven. You can't seem to get a full breath, not when he's looking at you the way he is, his fingers sliding between your folds.
He brings his hand to his lips, and licks his fingers clean, his eyes closed. He looks like he's savoring it, and you're transfixed. It's not until his hands are back on you, hooking into your panties and pulling them down, that you take in a gasp of air.
You watch as he kneels behind you, dragging your underwear down to your ankles. He lifts one foot, and then the other, pulling the soaked garment off. You don’t see where it goes, but you don’t hear it hit the ground. He doesn't drop it. Instead, he stands, and shoves it in one of his pockets, and when he looks at you, he smirks.
You aren’t sure what to say. It shouldn't turn you on. It does.
Hunter leans forward, and his cock slides along the cleft of your ass, and then lower. His lips are on your neck, and when his cock brushes against your clit, you gasp. You can't take much more of this.
You try to turn, but his hands are on your hips, and he's not letting you. His mouth is hot against your neck, and his lips are pressed to your ear.
"No." His voice is a rough growl, and you can hear the smile in his tone. "Stay."
It's not a request.
You freeze, and his teeth sink into your neck, making you cry out. He doesn't speak, and the only sound in the room is your breathing, and the soft, wet sounds of his cock sliding between your folds. He's rubbing the head against your clit, and it's almost too much. You can't stop moving, but the pressure on your hips keeps you still.
"Hunter,” you whimper, and the word is half plea, and half command.
He doesn't answer, and his breath is coming fast and shallow. His fingers are digging into your hips, and he's pressing his cock lower, and lower. You can feel him notch against your entrance, and he pauses, the both of you held in limbo.
"Please."
The moment stretches out, and then Hunter's hand is on the back of your neck, pressing you down. Your forehead hits the cool porcelain of the sink, and you can feel his fingers flex, and then his cock is pressing forward, and stretching you open.
You moan, and it's all you can do not to move. He takes his time, easing inside, and the feeling of him filling you, the sensation of being stretched and filled and claimed is exquisite.
It's not until he's seated inside you that he lets go of your neck. His hand is on your shoulder, holding you in place, and his hips snap, driving him deep. You gasp, his name a strangled cry that tears from your throat, and you can feel his lips brush against your skin.
"That’s it,” he grunts, his breath hot against your ear. He's barely pulling out, fucking you with quick, sharp thrusts. “Moan a little louder, cyare. Let all of 79s know who’s fucking you.”
You don't know what he's doing to you. All you know is that you want more, and you're desperate to obey. You can't help the noises spilling from your mouth, and if you weren't so focused on him, on the way his cock felt inside of you, you might have been embarrassed.
But all you can think about is the way his fingers are gripping your hips, and the way his body is pressed against yours, armor cold and unyielding against your back. You can hear him breathing, and the quiet grunts and moans that fall from his lips are driving you mad.
“Hunter—”
He's not waiting for you to finish, not even bothering to let you catch your breath. You feel the way he responds to the sound of his name, the way his hips jerk, and the way his cock thickens inside of you. His arm slides under your body, wrapping around your stomach, and his hips are moving faster, his thrusts rougher. Hunter fucks you like he's trying to claim you, and in a way, he is.
His mouth is at your ear, and when he speaks, the words are a rough whisper. "Tell me you're mine."
You're shaking, and it's not from the force of his thrusts. It's from the way he says the words, the way he breathes them into your ear, like a plea and a prayer.
"Tell me, and I'll let you come."
You don't know how he can keep talking. You can't form the words, and he's relentless. The way his cock fills you, the way his hips snap, the way his mouth is pressed against your neck, his lips leaving kisses and marks that will linger, and remind you that you're his.
"Please," you manage, the closest your fogged mind can get.
"Say it."
"I'm yours," you whisper, and the way his hips jerk is telling.
He doesn't speak, his hips shifting, and when he drives into you again, it's all you can do to hang on. He's hitting the perfect spot, and when he fucks into you, he stays there, the head of his cock grinding against the most sensitive parts of you. His hand finds your clit, his thumb circling, and it's only moments before you're coming undone.
The force of it hits you, and the noise that escapes is not quite a scream, and not quite a moan. You're shaking, your vision going white, and your entire body is clenching, tightening around him. It's only then that he lets go, the sound that spills from his lips making you shudder.
You can feel him coming, the heat of his release flooding your core. It's a sensation that will never get old, the feeling of his body pressed against yours, the way his hand tightens on your hip, the way his mouth opens against your neck. The way he gasps, and sighs, and whispers your name, like you're the only thing that matters.
It's always like this.
He holds you close, and neither of you speaks. It's just the sound of your breathing, the quiet rustle of his armor, the gentle hum of the music from the club outside the door.
There's a knock on the door, and Hunter curses, his hands tightening. His voice is rough, but quiet, and there's no mistaking the warning in his tone. "Go away."
You're frozen, and there's no reply, just the sound of footsteps retreating down the hallway.
"Fuck," he groans. The sound vibrates through your body, making you shudder.
"You're gonna get us thrown out,” you tell him, and Hunter laughs.
"It wouldn't be the first time." He pulls away, and it's an unpleasant sensation, the drag of his cock leaving your body. You can feel him leaking from between your legs, and you shift, trying to find something to clean yourself up with.
"Here." Hunter pulls a towel from the rack, and he's gentle as he runs it over the inside of your thighs, and between your legs. He cleans himself and tucks his cock back into his blacks, and the whole time, he's got a hand on your waist, like he's not ready to let go.
You adjust your clothes, and when you turn to look at him, Hunter smiles.
"I've been thinking," he says, and he's reaching for you, pulling you close.
"That sounds dangerous."
"Maybe." Hunter dips his head, and he kisses you, his hands cupping your face. His mouth is warm and soft, and it feels like an apology. When he breaks the kiss, he's still holding you, and the next words out of his mouth are the last ones you expect.
"Do you want to go to dinner with me?"
You blink. Hunter's eyes are serious, and his hands are on your shoulders like he's bracing himself.
"Like, on a date?"
He nods, and he looks so nervous, it's hard not to laugh. The two of you have been having sex for months, have done things that would make most people blush, and he's nervous because he wants to take you to dinner.
"Just the two of us?"
Hunter nods again, and when you smile, his own lips curl up.
"Yes." You wrap your arms around his waist, and he looks relieved, like he didn't think you were going to say yes. "I'd love to."
Hunter smiles, and it's brilliant. It makes his eyes shine, and you can't help but grin.
"Good," he says. "That's good."
“But you’re going to have to give me my panties back."
Hunter raises an eyebrow and dips his hand between your legs, the touch light, but firm. His fingers glide through your folds, and the sound you make is high and strangled. He's still wearing a smirk when he pulls his hand away, and when he licks his fingers clean, there's no mistaking the way his gaze darkens.
"I think I'm going to keep them," he says without a hint of remorse.
"But—"
"Consider it a promise." His smile is wicked, and his voice is low and rough. "For later."
Your eyes widen, and Hunter chuckles.
"Now," he says, his hands sliding down your arms. He interlaces your fingers with his, and pulls you toward the door. "Let's get out of here."
This time, you follow him without question.
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daydreamerwoah · 14 hours
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Love Through It All (Alternate Ending - Reader Leaves Simon)
tw: mentions of cheating, divorce; hurt; angst; anger; rollercoaster of emotion; sadness; arguing; crying; mentions of therapy/counseling; not a happy ending of them together
Please read Part 1 for my author notes for the beginning of this story if this is your first time here.
I had some people ask for an alternate ending where reader leaves Simon so here it is :) Few things to note here: This will happen right after the club incident where Simon fights Keegan; everything that happened in the original plot will not happen really so reader cheating and them getting capture is out
*Little flashback* - This is from chapter 10 (in italics)
But now that you and him were back at home, the wrath had simmered... just a bit. He was still mad.... but more with himself. He wanted to cut off the man's hands, but looking at you made all thoughts about that vanish.
"Sweetheart-"
"No!" you yelled as you turned on your heels to face him, "Don't fucking sweetheart me Simon! What the fuck was that back there?"
He pulled his balaclava off, tossing it on the bed before glancing back at you, "Please-"
"Stop! No more fucking talking!" It was your turn to see red, "How could you do that?! You went looking for me?! I told you I was coming home!" He tried to speak but you didn't even let him open his mouth, "And you punched someone! Because what?... he danced with me?! Because he had his arm around me-"
"I saw him kiss your neck, Y/n!" Simon shouted. In all the years you had been married, he rarely raised his voice, especially at you... but he also had never cheated until he did. "I saw the way he looked at you!"
"So what?! You think I wanted him back! You think I was going to leave with him! That I was going to cheat like you did to me!" Simon's hard eyes softened, "You stepped out on our marriage! Six times! SIX! Not one, but six! And you didn't even have the balls to tell me. You didn't even tell me how you felt before then! Instead, you fucked some girl! All because you like having rough sex! I'm not some fucking fragile toy that will break! I'm not weak! And you won't even divorce me!"
He stepped closer to you, but you took a step back, "Love-"
"No! I'm not done! I'm so fucking mad right now I could punch something!" You started pacing, "You say I'm yours but you go and act like this?!"
"You are. Sweetheart I swear-" He tried to reach out for you.
You smacked his hand away, "Don't touch me!"
"Hit me love. Y'can punch me. Slap me. Do whatever y'need-"
"STOP!" You screamed. You screamed so loud that Simon's eyes widened so big from your tone. You thought someone would come knocking on the door from how loud it was, possibly thinking you were being hurt. When you thought about it, you were being hurt.... just not physically.
The tension in the air only grew. The anger that was racing through your body was going to force its way out, and that terrified you. You weren't a violent person. You didn't want to see what would happen if you hit Simon... you knew he wouldn't do anything back, but the thought of being like your ex made you want to vomit.
A shift in Simon's eyes only confirmed that what you did wasn't like you. It wasn't the woman he married. But he hated himself to know it was all because of him that you had changed. And he couldn't stop it.
It was as if a dam burst as tears began to fall down your cheeks. The mascara and eyeliner causing black streaks on the skin. You didn't even care if he saw you in pain or not. You wanted to scream and to lash out at him, but your throat had become so dry from shouting already you had no energy left in you.
You lowered your head, softly shaking it, "I need space, Simon. I need to be away from you... You need to be away from me." you said.
"Wait, please don't-"
"Please, Simon... please just give me space and time to think about everything," you sniffed, "I'm begging you.... please."
He stood there, eyes shifting between yours as he listened to you. As he heard your plea. He had been so worried about losing you that he only made things worse. And there was nothing that he could do to fix it other than give you what you wanted. Give you the space you needed.
He slowly nodded as tears formed in his own eyes, and a sob left your mouth as you clamped a hand around your lips to stop the sound from escaping. "Alright," he said, voice barely above a whisper, "I'll give you anything y'want. Promise. Just-" He stopped himself from finishing his sentence, "Alright."
It was the last thing he said before he grabbed his balaclava off the bed and left the house. As soon as the door shut, you couldn't help but sink down to your knees and let out one of the hardest, silent cries you ever had. It was so hard to do anything but cry, and that you did. You cried as you took your dress off. You cried as you sat on the floor in the shower, letting the water fall all over you. You cried as you gazed at yourself in the mirror, feeling like you wanted to punch the glass.
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Simon opened his office door before quickly shutting and locking it once he stepped inside. It was cold and dark, like it always was. But this time, it felt colder... damper. The windowless room offered no light source until he flicked on the small lamp on this desk. It barely lit up anything, but it was enough for him to find his way to the couch located off to the side of the room.
He slumped down with a low and painful groan leaving his mouth. It wasn't the smartest idea for him to even be fighting when he was still bruised and battered from the mission he left not even 24 hours ago. Actually, it was a stupid idea, and he knew that. The adrenaline no longer pumping through him, he felt how the knuckle on his right hand had split a little. When he glanced down at it, he felt a rush of sadness fall to his stomach as he looked at the dried up blood.
"Fuck," he said.
He wished someone could punch him in the face. The amount of force that he struck with his first on the guy at the club, he wished it was his face that he hit. He felt like he could take one of his knives and stab himself in the chest. He didn't deserve anything after what he did to you.... You had given him more than he truly deserved by staying with him at the beginning of all of this. All he did in return was made you cry damn near every day.
Maybe he did deserve to let you go; to let you leave him. He thought about if he should just be alone for the rest of his life. Retire and move somewhere remote, so he couldn't have any human interaction. So he wouldn't ever hurt you again by seeing him, by thinking about what he did to you. Or if he was lucky, he'd get himself killed on the next mission he was sent off to. It'd be quick and painless, he hoped. You could even be free from him.
He laid down on the couch, looking up at the ceiling as his huge frame barely fit comfortably on it. But he didn't deserve comfort. He didn't deserve to live, he thought. Maybe one day, he could finally be with his mom, his brother.... his nephew. If they were alive, he was sure his Tommy would have punched him square in the face. He could see the look on his face so vividly. The pain in his heart was worse than the hook that pierced through his rib so many years ago. He thought he deserved another hook.... and he'd let it happen if that meant making you happy once again.
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"Are you sure you want to do this?" Ava asked you.
The two of you sat on her couch as you had a glass of wine in your hand. You had been staring at those damn papers for almost an hour as you and her talked about everything, most of the time you just crying in her lap like you were a child needing comfort from a mother.
Four weeks had passed since you and Simon had last spoken or seen each other. And in that time, you felt more angry with everything that was going on in your life. You wanted to.... you really wanted to work things out with Simon, but you knew it was no use. Things wouldn't ever get back to the way they were, and even thinking about getting past his infidelity just made you want to dry heave. And knowing how he acted - looking for you and beating someone up - just made your stomach twist in painful knots.
You needed to be away from him... for a long time.
Nodding, you let out a sob. Even just the act of signing the papers to give to him caused major anxiety in your chest. But you set the glass on the coffee table before picking up the divorce papers with trembling hands, "I have to."
Ava gave you a comforting nod as she rubbed your back softly. She knew it was hard... she had been in your shoes once and she didn't want to see you hurt anymore regardless of if you stayed with Simon or not. She handed you the pen that was sitting on the table, and still with trembling hands, you went through each page, filling them out signing your name. You thought you were going to pass out when you signed the last page, but it strangely felt.... good. Like a relief that you had been wanting since the night you told Simon you wanted a divorce.
But you also were afraid of what was going to happen next. Simon had proved himself to you over and over that he wasn't going to divorce you. Would he get angry? Would he rip the papers up? Would he hurt you even more? You didn't know, and that was terrifying to not know. Yet, you still pulled out your phone and texted him asking to meet the following morning.
When the front door of the apartment opened, you had already been sitting at the dining table. You tried your best to calm your breathing all morning from the anxiety running through your body, but when you heard his heavy footsteps cross through the doorframe, you couldn't help but suck in a breath.
The same thing was for him as he looked around the living room before he saw you sitting at the table. He thought he would feel better when he walked in, but for some reason his heart broke a little knowing he was the one that brought you all of this pain. It broke even more when he glanced down to see the white papers on the table, before meeting your eyes.
"Hey," he softly said, pulling his balaclava off as he walked and sat down across from you.
You tried to keep your composure calm, but your voice was shaky, "Hey."
The silence that engulfed the room for that brief pause could have killed you both. Simon's eyes kept flickering down to the papers every few seconds, and you couldn't help but lower your head. This was going to be way harder than you thought.
"Y'wanted to talk?" he asked, his own voice different than the usual tone.
You nervously bit your lip as you raised your hand and set it on top of the papers. His eyes looked down at the table once more before you slid them across the table, "I want a divorce Simon."
He could only swallow the lump in his throat that was so thick, he thought he would choke on it. He couldn't even form a sentence to respond back to you as his eyes stayed glued onto the papers that were now in front of him. It was stupid of him to think after all he had done you would still want to be with him, but deep down he knew he didn't deserve you. That night he said he'd give you anything you wanted - and this seemed to be what you wanted. But he couldn't help the guilt, regret, anger, sadness, and everything else that flowed through him at the same time all too quick. But he remained quiet - too quiet.
Your heartbeat quickened at his lack of response to you. You almost thought he was going to yell at you, but when he finally took the papers into his hand, you didn't know what to feel. It was... odd.
"I..." he paused, trying his best to not let his voice sound too angry and hurt, "I'll sign them tonight and give em back to you tomorrow," he said before he abruptly stood up. You barely got a chance to see the expression on his face when he turned around heading to the bedroom, "Need to grab a few things. Won't be long."
And he wasn't. He grabbed a couple of dufflebags and hastily threw clothes into them, along with his gear and toiletry items, before he walked back towards the front door. You hadn't moved from your spot at the table as you looked at him with tearful eyes that had yet to fall. But the moment both of your eyes locked on each other, that's when you saw it - the fear in him. It wasn't fear for his life... but fear that knowing he wouldn't know what to do anymore. The harsh thoughts that he wanted to act on; to disappear, die, or take himself out. But that was extreme. He knew he couldn't do that. So he gave you a small nod before opening the door and walking out.
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A lot can happen in 5 year... half a decade... especially in a marriage.
And god you never thought it would come to a divorce between you and Simon.
The next day after you'd given him the papers, you walked in the apartment after work to see them laying on the dining table.
He had signed them like you asked him to.
A part of you thought he was going to call or text saying he wasn't going to, but the fact that he did made so many mixed emotions run through you.
Those feelings only continued to be confusing throughout the entire process of it all. The packing up your things. You and Simon cleaning out the apartment. Moving to a new place. Everything was confusing. But as time went on, you began to feel different; good. A soft peaceful aura flowed around you, and it was noticeable. You weren't crying as much anymore. You smiled more.
As much as good distractions came in going out from time to time with Ava, you found yourself enjoying just being alone. The silence that welcomed you each time you came home from work put a warm and comfort feeling in your chest.
Before you knew it... almost a year had passed by since the divorce, and not once had you seen Simon. There were times that you thought about him, the last thing he ever said to you replaying in your mind.
"I'll always love you sweetheart."
It was a promise to you. A promise that he would finally let you go. But a promise that his heart wouldn't beat for anyone else. And it didn't... he would never let anyone get close enough to him ever again.
It was rainy evening - more of a forceful thunderstorm that blew through the entire area - and you were bundled up on the couch watching a movie. With a cup of tea in your hand, you tried to warm up from the cool temperate that was outside since Autumn had set in a couple of weeks ago. There was a quick knock at your door, making you glance towards it. Your eyebrows furrowed as you set the cup on the coffee table and stood up. You weren't expecting anyone since Ava and her husband were gone on vacation.
Huh?
Slowly making your way towards the door, your pulse quickened thinking it was Simon. No. That couldn't be right. He hadn't talked to you in forever. And he made it very clear that he wasn't going to do anything like look for you.
So who was it?
Looking through the peephole you saw a bulky and tall guy on the other side with his signature mohawk. Your eyes widened as you unlocked and opened the door, looking at him in confusion.
"Johnny?" you asked in confusion, "What're you doing here?"
He looked... tired. Like he had just come back from a mission or something. But he also looked...... nervous? Scared? And his silence made you gulp.
He quickly glanced down at the floor before meeting your eyes again.
"It's Simon."
I had to leave yall on a cliff hanger lol! Seems to be my speciality huh? Let me know what you all think about this ending or if you'd like to see something else (not sure if I'm taking requests for this, but we'll see)
Taglist: @kalypsoox @fruitymoonbeams-blogz @kylies-love-letter @xrosegoldwolfx @linaaaaa654 @jessicab1991 @darkravenqueen98 @yazyazali @thychuvaluswife @chloeforde @cownini @ssc7514
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joesheistyy · 5 hours
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Gorgeous
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Based on the Taylor Swift song Gorgeous <33
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Your friendship with Joe had stood the test of time. However, after 8 years of friendship, your feelings flourished into more than just friends.
Every week, Joe comes over to your apartment for dinner. With being best friends for years, he had a key to your place and would just let himself in.
You were making spaghetti for dinner, something simple but delicious. As you cooked, you played Taylor's Reputation album over your speaker.
As the song Gorgeous came on, you heard Joe letting himself in. You were dancing and singing with your slotted spoon, entertaining yourself as you waited for the noodles to be done.
You decided to stay in your own little world, expecting Joe had a bag he could set down while you continued in the kitchen. As he walked over to give you a side hug, you were still singing.
You're so cool, it makes me hate you so much (I hate you so much) Whisky on ice, Sunset and Vine You've ruined my life by not bein' mine.
You sang to him, aiming your spoon toward his face. He just smiled, feeling slightly awkward in this situation.
You're so gorgeous I can't say anything to your face 'Cause look at your face (Gorgeous) And I'm so furious At you for makin' me feel this way But what can I say? You're gorgeous
You continued to sing, getting closer to him and trying to test the boundaries.
You should take it as a compliment That I'm talkin' to everyone here but you (But you, but you) And you should think about the consequence Of you touchin' my hand in a darkened room (Dark room, dark room)
You reached for his hand and grabbed it, bringing it closer to you.
If you've got a girlfriend, I'm jealous of her
You pointed to him with your other hand, slowly backing away from him, but not far enough that you dropped his hand. Almost like you were pulling him to dance.
But if you're single, that's honestly worse 'Cause you're so gorgeous it actually hurts (Honey, it hurts)
You jabbed him in the chest with your finger, feeling his strong chest.
Ocean blue eyes lookin' in mine I feel like I might sink and drown and die
As you set your slotted spoon down, you pointed to his eyes aggressively, then to your eyes. Then, you leaned backwards and pretended to sink and drown and die.
You're so gorgeous I can't say anything to your face (To your face) 'Cause look at your face (Look at your face; Gorgeous)
You pointed back to his face, reaching up to grab his cheeks.
And I'm so furious At you for makin' me feel this way (Feel this way) But what can I say? You're gorgeous
With your hands on his face, Joe took this opportunity to wrap his arms around your waist, testing the waters with you.
You make me so happy it turns back to sad (Yeah)
You made faces at Joe as he continued to hold you around your waist. He smiled down at you, slightly laughing at you.
There's nothin' I hate more than what I can't have (And)
You pressed your hands to his chest, and pretended to be in pain.
You are so gorgeous, it makes me so mad (Mm) You're gorgeous
As the song wrapped up, you booped Joe's nose. But even when the song was done, Joe kept his arms around your waist, smiling down at you. This kind of interaction between the two of you wasn't uncommon, but this one felt different.
The song Getaway Car played next, but you and Joe were still in your own little world. He began to lean in, and you followed.
You felt his breath fan across your face, and the butterflies began in your stomach. As he finally closed the gap, your night felt complete. Who knew that singing and dancing in the kitchen is what would finally get Joe to kiss you.
The kiss was delicate and slow, but did not last very long. If you could kiss Joe for eternity, you would.
His arms remained around your waist as he pulled away, looking into your eyes for approval. He looked nervous, but you could not be happier. You wanted more. So, you went back for more.
Joe leaned into the kiss, deepening it. As you pulled away the second time, Joe seemed more content.
"You're gorgeous. I hope it was okay that I did that," He said sheepishly.
"It's about damn time," you smirked.
Spaghetti be damned.
-----
I've had this idea for months so I hope y'all enjoyed it!!
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rabbidbunwy · 3 days
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Hi, dear!! Hope you've been well!! ^^
Would you be interested in writing a fic about Gojo finding out his s/o is trans fem (amab)?
Thanks!! Remember to stay healthy ^_^
Love you still
Contents:Gojo x Trans!(male to fem)reader--cute-fluff-sweet-confession-cuddles-kissing
i'm no english native so sorry for some mistakes
please reblog 🔁 and like❤️
P.s: i never done this kind of subject before so sorry if it's not good but thanks for the reminder to stay healthy love,you too ⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
@muzansslxt @candy69gurl @kiwicopia @satorkive @ponderingmoonlight @kurominiiiz
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For a few moments, Gojo was silent. This had come as a surprise to him. He'd been with this person for a while, and had seen nothing to suggest that they were transgender. But here you are, sitting there on the bed with a worried look on your face, having just told him this.
"And you thought I wouldn't want this? Babe, just because your gender is different than when we first started dating doesn't mean I don't love you anymore."
He reached out, wrapping an arm around you, pulling you close. A long, happy sigh escapes your chest as Gojo holds you tight, telling you how much he loves you. Despite the revelation of your gender identity, he doesn't seem to be at all bothered by it. Your mind is at ease now, reassured by the fact that he's completely fine with it.
"I love you. So much." Satoru murmurs into your neck. You look up at him, gazing into his icy blue eyes.
You lean in and kiss him gently on the lips. It's a slow and tender kiss, filled with both passion and deep affection. Satoru wraps his arms around you again, pulling you closer and holding you in a warm embrace. You don't hold back, letting all your emotions pour into this moment. The kiss becomes more intense, deeper and more passionate. You are both completely immersed in the moment, completely lost in the love and desire that is shared between you.
As you pull away, you're both left panting and gasping for breath. You can't help but smile at the intensity of the kiss, and you lean your head on Gojo's shoulder, feeling content and safe in his arms.
"I love you, Satoru. I always will." you whisper. A soft sigh escapes his lips, and he kisses the top of your head.
You sit there in comfortable silence for a few minutes, just enjoying the feeling of being wrapped in each others' arms. Finally, Gojo speaks up.
"You know I'm gonna be with you no matter what, right? Your gender doesn't change anything. If anything, it just makes me love you even more."
He smiles, and you realize that you've found the person who truly loves and accepts you for who you are, unconditionally.
You feel tears welling up in your eyes. Tears of happiness, relief, and gratitude. He holds you even tighter, gently stroking your hair as if to say that everything will be alright. The fact that this powerful sorcerer, the strongest in the world, is willing to stay by your side no matter what warms your heart
"I know, Satoru. I know."
You can feel Gojo's heart beating against your cheek, a comforting rhythm that helps you relax. You close your eyes, just letting yourself be held in his arms. The fact that he's so supportive and accepting of your gender identity fills you with a sense of security and love.
"So" Gojo says after a few moments. "Does this mean I get to go shopping with you for girls' clothes?"
You look up at him, a little surprised by his question. But then you see the mischievous glimmer in his eyes and realize he's just teasing you. Still, the very thought of going shopping for girls' clothes with Gojo… it's a little mortifying.
"Um… sure." You say, blushing a little. You never thought you'd be going shopping for clothes with your boyfriend, but here you are.
Gojo laughs, amused at your embarrassment. He leans over and plants a kiss on your forehead.
"I'm just joshin' with you, babe. You don't have to look so mortified."
He grins, clearly enjoying this a little too much. You roll your eyes, but secretly, you find it kind of endearing how excited he is.
He takes your hands in his, intertwining your fingers.
"But seriously, if you want to go shopping, I'll go with you. I'll even carry the bags and be your personal shopping assistant."
You can't help but chuckle at the image of Gojo carrying around a bunch of shopping bags. It's both funny and oddly sweet at the same time.
He looks at you with a sly grin.
"And by the way, just so you know, I have very good taste in fashion. I'll help you pick out the cutest outfits ever."
You scoff lightly, knowing that Gojo's fashion sense is often questionable. Still, you have a feeling that shopping with him might be fun after all.
Gojo chuckles heartily at your response, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He leans down and starts peppering kisses all over your face, his lips brushing against your cheeks, your forehead, your eyelids, and finally your lips.
With each kiss, he lets out a soft, low laugh, clearly enjoying himself. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, and his hands gently caress your face as he continues to shower you in kisses.
After a few more moments, Gojo finally pulls away, looking down at you with a satisfied smile. His eyes rake over your face, appreciating the blush that he's brought to your cheeks.
"I love covering your face in kisses, he whispers, his voice slightly husky. "You look so cute when you get all flustered like this."
You playfully nudge him in the chest, unable to hide the rosy hues on your cheeks.
"You're so cheesy, you know that?" Gojo just grins wider, not at all sorry for being cheesy. He enjoys seeing you like this, all flustered and blushing because of his attention. He pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you.
"And you love it. Admit it."
You can feel your heart fluttering in your chest. Gojo's right, of course. There's something about his cheesy, over-the-top affections that you secretly enjoy. It makes you feel special and loved. You lean against him, burying your face in his chest to hide your embarrassment.
"Yeah, yeah, I do love it. Happy now?"
Gojo hums in contentment, feeling victorious. He runs his fingers through your hair, his touch gentle and affectionate. He pulls you even closer, resting his chin on top of your head.
"Very happy."
He pauses, then adds in a low voice. "You know, the more you blush, the more I get the urge to kiss you senseless."
You can feel your face burning even more at his words. His voice is so damn sexy, and the way he says things like that with such confidence makes your stomach do somersaults. You pull back just enough to look up at him, and you see the mischievous glimmer in his eyes again. He's clearly enjoying getting you all worked up like this.
He reaches up to cup your cheek with one hand, his thumb gently tracing the blush on your skin.
"See? Look at how cute you are when you're all flustered, he murmurs, his voice dripping with adoration. "It's downright addictive."
He leans in and brushes his lips against your earlobe, his breath warm on your skin. "So addictive… I don't think I'll ever get tired of this."
© rabbidbunwy all rights reserved. do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my work without my permission. thank you for reading and supporting my work
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year2000electronics · 14 hours
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HIII I'm immediately obsessed w your Just Say Yes au like GRHRGGRH I'm gnawing on this foreverr. as a sweater twins enjoyer though it's UGHH. angst <3 . but angst </3
even when mabel and dipper eventually reconcile (because I'm getting the feeling they will, at least someday) could mabel and ford ever reconcile? I'd imagine she blames him more than she blames dipper for the whole ordeal, and with stan inadvertently kinda making it worse (not to mention bill just. being bill.)
UGH and he'd probably still be too stubborn to admit or apologize even to his niece (I say this w love I promise). god save ford from the wrath of an arts and crafts girlie. the multiverse couldn't prepare him for her.
this is a tough question, and one i have been GNAWING on. ive been working on a full plot for just say yes beyond just the initial premise (there's a lot of stuff i have to consider! i'm even trying to consider whether there even should be an eventual weirdmageddon or not) so its like, i dont know the ending to it all yet, but i know that i want like. a happy ending but REALISTICALLY happy, yknow? so its not all kittens and rainbows but i think dipper and mabel are definitely gonna make up and theres gonna be the chance to heal. the chance is so important.
but that still leaves the question of the stans, and by extension, the stans' now-splintered relationship with their "opposite" pines kids. its tempting to say mabel never want to talk to ford again, right? he came into their lives, punched their grunkle in the face, made everything awkward and stressful for the entire time he was there, and by the end of the summer, took her brother away and then was part of the reason he became a paranoid shut-in.
but i think it eats at her that they have something in common that nobody else currently alive can say they have.
a friendship with bill.
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it's not JUST that bill is some master manipulator, its more about what he represents for both ford and mabel. both of them were approached by bill during a period in their life where they felt more lonely than they ever had before (especially in the wake of a rift between them and their twin) and bill purposely used that against them. how can they explain to people that they confided in bill, and they ignored the signs? how can they explain why on earth they would trust a DEMON? who could sympathize with the twins who sold the world?
i think thats what could be the key to mending the relationship between all four of them. ford being the one to reach out to mabel after everything's done, after she either helps billie bring about weirdmageddon or ALMOST bring it about depending on what i decide. i think for ford, whos been slowly realizing that he is hurting the people he loves, and has been forced to reckon with that because unlike fiddleford and stan, he's living with dipper and seeing him slowly grow into a reflection of his own negative traits. and he realizes that him and mabel separating was In Large Parts His Fault.
the fact that ford would reach out to mabel and try to extend the olive branch during the period of her life where she probably feels the most like a pariah, more alone than even before billie, to say "sometimes we do selfish things. but that doesnt make us irredeemable" is a sort of atonement for both her and himself, and also a way for him to admit that yes, he did hurt people
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reinventinglia · 15 hours
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seeking your higher self in 2024
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hello, angels ⭑.ᐟ today we'll be taking the first step to our personal journey to be our higher self and achieve our dream life. an important reminder is that it is never too late to change and to allow yourself to be. if you are reading this and you feel like it is too late or that you're so far behind everyone else, or thinking "can i even do it?", take a deep breath, because you can! if this is your case, i highly recommend watching this incredible bevy smith ted talk, which is a major inspiration for this post.
i talk (or rather write) a lot, just so you know.
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it is what you make it
you need to understand your power. life is all about perspective, about what you put into the world and what you'll receive in exchange. as much as i believe the "it is what it is" mindset is important so you can come to terms with your own reality (there's no moving forward if you can't accept where you are), this is just as important. this is my own interpretation of this mindset, but i'd love to hear yours as well!
many things in life are out of control, but some—and a lot of them—you can control. you can choose your own mindset and the energy and intention you're letting out to the world, as well as how you think about yourself and whether or not you believe you're worthy of good things. trust me, you can't move forward and achieve your higher self if you don't believe you're worth it! you need to work on your self-concept in order to be yourself, because otherwise being yourself means being worthless, or whatever it is you repeat to yourself.
you are in control of your life.
i'm not talking about specific situations that unfortunately you can't control, and i'm also not saying you deserve what you're getting, because no! no one deserves bad things happening to them, but unfortunately they do happen regardless of what we think or believe in—even people who you believe have the perfect life have to go through rough times.
still, in the end, you need to take charge. you might not be responsible for what happens to you, but you can control how you react to it. it won't be necessarily easy or comfortable, but it needs to be done. even a small step can make the difference as long as you're moving forward.
one thing you'll need to be working on for the entirety of this journey is your self-concept—there are a lot of things to talk about it, but for now focus on understanding how you view yourself. in order to do so, here are some prompts that can help you with it:
⭑ how do you currently perceive yourself?
⭑ what is one negative self-belied you hold? how can you challenge it?
⭑ when was a time you doubted yourself? why did that happen?
⭑ how is your self-talk and how does it impact you?
⭑ what is a part of yourself you're critical of? why?
⭑ what is a part of yourself you're proud of? why?
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find your motivation
i'm currently in my early 20s, which is a strange period in life. of course i've also thought my teenage years were strange, but being in your 20s is different (maybe in ten years i'll say the same thing about being in my 30s). it's not all about comparing dating or being popular or getting the best grades or whatever, now the people i'm surrounded by are having jobs, or being the perfect university student, or living overseas to pursue their professional athlete career, or even doing scientific research with influential people! and they're all my age.
it's very intimidating to realize that age doesn't mean anything and that you can do anything regardless of being younger or older. but it's also reassuring, because it allowed me to understand that we all have our own pace—which means that you're not behind just because you think you are; in the end, your time will come. the time where you'll be satisfied, happy, and thrilled to live your life because it's finally what you wanted! but for that to happen, you have to do the work.
to start seeking your authentic self and live as your higher self, you need to do the work. the first thing is looking inside and realizing your reasons.
of course being authentic itself is a motivation, because who wants to live in the shade of how other people want you to be? putting on a mask everyday is exhausting and you can't live like that.
but this is not easy. it is an uncomfortable, hard, and hurting journey, but it leads you to healing, to real happiness. this is exactly why you need to have your motives, because you need a strong foundation so you won't give up. i say this because i have given up a few times, which is exactly why i might have started this journey at the age of nineteen, but i only properly started it this year, at the age of twenty-one—two years after i convinced myself i'd do it.
here is a journal prompt that might help you get to the source of your motivation:
⭑ what are your core reasons for wanting to change?
list your emotional, personal, or practical reasons for pursuing this journey. anything can be a motive, really. maybe you just don't resonate with your life, or you want to reinvent yourself. whatever it is, as long as it comes from a place of authenticity and truth, it will help you during this journey. embrace whatever it is that's motivating you and allow it to guide you to a life that resonate with your true self! the path may be challenging, but it's always worth it.
after thinking about why you want to change, work on these prompts to understand exactly what you want to change:
⭑ if you could see your life in five years, where do you want to be?
⭑ what do you look forward to most in the future?
⭑ what area of your life do you want to improve the most? list five things you can do in order to achieve that
⭑ make a list of how your life would be if you could be and do anything in the world
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being authentic
a great part of becoming your higher self means understand your authentic self. now, what does it truly mean to be authentic? of course we all know the definition: being true to yourself, to your values, and to your beliefs, even when others may disagree. but let's take one step further and ask yourself: what makes you you?
i wouldn't be surprised if many of you came up to me and said that you actually don't know the answer to that question. most of us have become used to suppressing your true selves and the best parts of who we are so we can fit in other people's expectations. but it's not okay to make yourself smaller just so someone else can feel better. if you recognize someone in your life who falls into this category, it's time to walk away! trust me, you'll be better off without that kind of energy surrounding you. instead, focus on people who uplift and inspire you to be authentic.
being yourself is a blessing, and for this i'll be quoting shakespeare: “to thine own self be true”. this means not worrying about pleasing other people and remaining true to who you are—therefore, being authentic, which is the ultimate goal. as bevy smith so beautifully said in her ted talk, “nobody can be you but you, so you might as well show up and show out”. make the most of your individuality and celebrate it!
⭑ is there a difference between how you act in public and how you act when you're alone? if yes, why do you think so and do you believe one act is more authentic than the other?
⭑ if you could be like anyone in the world, who would it be and why?
⭑ if you fully believed you're worthy and enough as you are, how would you be/act?
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get to know who you are
knowing yourself is a lifelong journey because we're constantly changing and evolving, and you can't truly be you if you don't know yourself—quite obvious, right? yet, for so many people (and trust me, i've been there before), this isn't easy.
often, it's because they don't actively spend time with themselves, which may sound ridiculous at first, because logically we're always with ourselves, but simply existing isn't enough to know yourself. to truly understand who you really are, you need to engage in self-reflection, which is why i've been leaving journal prompts for each section of this post—that's truly one of the best tools to connect with yourself.
with that being said, you need to take some personal time for and with yourself. some people struggle to even say their favorite movie, or their favorite color, or something as basic as their favorite food or drink. the truth is, if you don't know the basics, knowing your deeper complexities, which is vital to understand who you are, will become challenging. so, take the time to ask yourself some questions! reflect on the things you might easily know about your close friends or family but might not be able to answer if they ask you.
⭑ every day before you sleep, make a list of ten things you like. it can be a movie, a color, a piece of clothing, or products. anything
⭑ if you could describe yourself in three words, what words would you choose?
⭑ describe two significant events in your life you believe have shaped you into who you are today
⭑ what are your beliefs and your personal values? list at least five
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putting yourself out there
another important aspect of knowing yourself includes putting yourself out there. as someone who has struggled with social anxiety for a long time—and still does—i can tell you this: letting your fears control you won't do you any good. stepping outside your comfort zone is essential for growth, even if it means taking a small step—after all small steps will still lead you to where you want to be, as long you're moving forward.
make an effort to go out. you'll learn a lot about yourself by visiting a new park or attending an event you've never attended before. if you have the means, consider traveling as well! the key is getting to a fresh environment where you won't have to mold yourself into whatever labels people have put on you. you can also start a new activity, such as taking a poetry class, exploring a new sport, or joining a club. each experience is an opportunity for self-discovery.
even if you struggle with social interactions, which i totally understand, meeting new people is also a very interesting way to learn more about yourself. it means you'll be exposed to different perspectives, which can reveal things you've never realized before.
you might meet someone with views so different from yours that you can't help but wish you never fall into that mindset, but you can also meet someone whose perspective resonates with you, and you'll discover qualities you aspire to embody. each interaction offers you a chance for growth and a deeper self-understanding, which is, again, essential!
this doesn't mean you have to mold yourself to be like that person—by all means, don't! you don't have to be exactly like someone else in order to achieve your dream life. however, you're allowed to be inspired by them. most of our beliefs and values come from experiences we've had with other people—it can be something as simple as believing that family comes first. you can learn a lot about your own values and who you are deep down by interacting with other people.
⭑ what three things you admire in your loved ones?
⭑ how have your friends impact your beliefs?
⭑ what beliefs do you share with your loved ones?
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take a note, give a note
as i mentioned earlier, many people who are my age are making extraordinary accomplishments—including friends of mine—and it has brought out a lot of different feelings within me. insecurity was one of them, because i often questioned to myself: if people my age are able to do all of these amazing things, why am i not doing it? what's preventing me from being as accomplished as they are?
the truth is, we don't have to be like everyone else. i've said this before, but it's important to understand that having different trajectories in life is included in not being like everyone else. just because someone your age is achieving a certain goal doesn't mean you should be doing the same thing—maybe that's not even what you want. understand and accept that you have your own path.
for example, i have no interest in being an athlete or to engage in as many academic activities as some of them are. and even if i did want those things, it's important to remember that what's meant for me will come in due time; maybe this just isn't the moment yet. this doesn't mean that i'm behind, it simply means i have my own pace. i'll continue to work towards my goals, because giving up and letting the universe do absolutely everything is not something i believe in, but i don't have to exhaust myself just because i'm not achieving everything i want right now.
now, with all that being said, implement a new ritual in your life. understand that each person has its own journey to fulfill and that everything you want and are meant to have will come in due time doesn't mean that you'll get over it easily. i understand that it can be hard—which is why we seriously need to work on our issues with believing everything has to happen in this exact moment.
the take a note, give a note ritual is supposed to help you with it, and i believe is a simple and effective way to do so.
the premise of it is: when you see someone having what you want, or what you think you want, instead of letting feelings of envy or jealousy take control, take charge of those feelings instead. ask yourself: is this what i really want? do i actually want what to be where that person is? regardless of the answer, as long as you're honest and true to your feelings, tell yourself this: “their wins have nothing to do with my worthiness.”
then, give a note. the note is nothing more than a sincere "congratulations". you can comment on their post, message them, or even call them, just don't let your previous envy and jealousy take control. allow yourself to be genuinely happy for others without having to diminish their achievements. as bevy smith said in her ted talk, “when you remove malice from your heart, not only do you feel better, you look better.”
don't punish yourself if it doesn't come naturally to you. unfortunately, believe it or not, it does happen to some people, especially those who were raised in an environment filled with negativity and competitiveness. instead, adopt new habits in your daily life to get rid of it, such as focusing on the good aspects of your life and what you're grateful for (i highly suggest doing a list of things you're grateful for each day before sleeping), practice mindfulness, and go to therapy or talk to someone about it.
⭑ how do you handle envy/jealousy?
⭑ what are three self-defeating thoughts that show up whenever you feel envy/jealousy?
⭑ how can you overcome negative thoughts when you feel envy/jealousy?
⭑ remember a recent time when you felt envy/jealous of someone and why. how did you handle it? what did you do to overcome that feeling?
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thank you so much for reading, and i wish you good luck and a great life! i talk a lot, but i find each of these topics very important. if you want to talk, send me an ask or message me if you can.
xoxo, lia ✮
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chaifootsteps · 3 days
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headcanon that while Mordecai is uncomfortable with touch, Viktor is a very physically affectionate person. he respects Mordecai's boundaries but once he starts noticing his colleague is cool with Viktor touching him, it makes him very happy
saw this artwork and also had a thought: https://www.tumblr.com/lordofdestructionm/723711082521329664/delicate-small-hands-held-by-large-rough-ones
Viktor likes handholding a lot and he especially like how small Mordecai's hands are compared to his. first he thinks this is just Normal Couple Stuff but he realizes over time there's more to it
of course it makes him feel good to be the larger one of the pair because he wants to protect Mordecai despite knowing he can handle himself. but it also reminds him that no matter how scary and sharply dressed Mordecai becomes, the young man with human weaknesses and vulnerabilities is still under there somewhere. it makes him hope he's not losing Mordecai completely to the love of violence Atlas is more than happy to encourage in him
he has the same feeling when he conspires to have Mordecai dress in his clothes when he sleeps over. Viktor's clothes are too big on Mordecai so it reminds him of when he first met Mordecai and he was just a shabbily dressed young man. he's glad Mordecai didn't have to stay poor and starving and enjoys a job done well at the Lackadaisy, but he's still worried on some level that Atlas won't stop until he turns Mordecai into a heartless killing machine who cares for no one. it's why he's happy to argue with Mordecai about something stupid like symmetry or grammar - it means Mordecai still cares about things other than putting Atlas' enemies in the ground
on a lighter note the touching is everyone else's first tip of that Something Is Up with these two because Mordecai gets very cranky when anyone lays a paw on him - but with Viktor he doesn't even notice. Mitzi spots it first, because of course she does
Anon, I don't know if this was your intention but I'm awash in the mental image of Viktor kissing Mordecai's hand beans. Bless you for this.
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tradgedyinwaves · 3 days
Text
Touch - Epilogue
The absolute amount of fluff in this epilogue is almost gross. 
Also, more military inaccuracies (I made it all the way to the epilogue before remembering the word ‘inaccuracies’)
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3 Years Later. 
You stood on your back porch, watching Johnny run around the backyard with your one and two year olds who squealed and screamed anytime he got close. His laughter roared over their sounds, picking one up like a football while chasing the other still. The scene made you giggle. 
You could smell the meal that Kyle was working on in the kitchen, the scents of homemade mashed potatoes and steaks wafting through open windows. Simon had disappeared into the shed, working on a stronger bed frame after the five of you plus the little ones broke the original. 
Usually, you would find John in there with Simon, toiling away on a project. This time he was sliding his hands over your rounded belly from behind, cupping it from underneath and lifting gently. It made a soft groan leave your lips as you leaned back into his embrace.
When you found out you were pregnant the first time, John, Kyle, and Johnny had all requested their discharges citing the need to be home with their family. Simon had been honorably discharged after the events with Moses, his injuries determining the course of his (and the military’s) decision. He was okay with it, surprisingly. Said it was time to stop running from the past and embrace the future you’d given him. 
Blonde, little Leila was most likely Simon’s, although there’d never been a paternal DNA test done. Nathan was most definitely Kyle’s with his cocoa skin and pretty eyes that rivaled his fathers. But they all loved your children, no matter who their biological dad was. The little one still growing in your belly would be no different. 
Kyle finally called out that dinner was ready and everyone headed inside. Well, everyone except you, who padded off to the shed to collect that last of your tribe. “Si? Dinner’s ready,” you called as you poked your head into the shed. “Mm, coming, luvie,” he replied, dusting off his hands on his pants and grinning at you. 
He joined you at the door, his large hands settling on your hips as he gazed down at you. Licking his lips, he leaned down and spoke to your belly. “ ‘Ello little one,” he whispered to the baby in your belly before straightening up only to lean down and kiss you deeply. “Love you pregnant, all swollen with our baby. Makes me want to put another one in you,” he growled against your lips. 
You rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you backed up and grabbed his hand. “Come on, you big lug. Let’s go eat,” you chastised playfully, dragging him out of the shed and back up to the house. 
You’d never been one to want a huge family. But as you sat at the head of the table with the loves of your life and your two babbling toddlers, you couldn’t imagine your life any other way. 
FINITE! 
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Okay, so holy crap. I started this as a little project intent on making my touch starved heart happy. It definitely turned into something else, but I'm happy with it. I just want to say thank you to every one who has liked, commented, reblogged, and followed. Every interaction means the world to me.
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mithrifer · 2 days
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My thoughts on Flipside
Class of 09 Flipside was hilarious, but I don't think it approaches the original or reup in quality.
I don't think it's because the main character is Jecka, or anything. Honestly, Jecka is the best part of the game, she's consistently good whether it be in jokes or likeability. The side characters just don't... live up to her though. Aside from her it's just Nicole, Jeffery, her dad and Kelly. I don't think Nicole is very good in this game, Jeffery and her dad are rather one note as expected and Kelly... unfortunately stars in the weakest route by far and does not much even there. Barely any Emily and Ari, no Kylar, no Karen. No Kyle. Jecka's great and carries herself quite well throughout the game, but she feels really alone narratively. This could be a conscious choice, as she goes through most of her troubles as a lonely girl without anyone to rely on, but I think they could've made that point without sacrificing the interest that comes with everyone surrounding her. Most of her interactions either use the other characters as jokes or to elevate her story, which wasn't how 09 or reup felt. Nicole got to try out new things thanks to all the weirdos she was surrounded with giving her new ways to have fun, whereas Jecka only really has Jeffery and her dad in that way, and she feels trapped no matter what she does. She didn't seem that way in the first twk games, but I suppose you could say those were not about her. I think the fact that you can't see her mom even on the school routes speaks volumes though.
Every ending is there just to shock you, and I'm not saying this because there's no happy endings or anything, the first two barely had those. It's more like... the endings feel like they barely have anything to do with the routes they come from? Why does the foot route end with... that? It's just out of nowhere. Not to mention the deal with the whole FYE route. I don't think there's anything redeeming about that one, it doesn't even feel like it belongs to the same world. And the way the game cheapens one of the best endings in the original by just, inserting Jecka. Which is something people have wanted for a while now, but I don't think the idea was done justice. It feels like a cheap "here you go" moment to me. It's really upsetting because I feel like the game could have gone in a ton of great places, but there's barely any choices or routes and the abrupt, weird endings just feel like a slap on the face even to the ones that were given. I think the best route was the one about drinking because it felt honest to Jecka's character and the ending was something I could've actually foreseen in one of the earlier games. After that it's the one with Jeffery, but I'm kind of iffy on that because I don't think Nicole would do that. Not for any moral reasons but more due overall disgust. Feels inconsistent with her presently given character.
The writing feels overall different imo. It's hard to put a finger on it, because it definitely relies on the same formula it had in the previous entries, but nothing in Flipside packs the same emotional punch. The humor is fairly good, but it's not spectacular like the first two games were for me. I still laughed out a few times though, since this is right up my alley.
I'm still happy I saw it, because it was quite fun... But it wasn't really more than that. It just felt like a humor piece. I don't know what spoke out to me in the first two VN's, but I don't think Flipside has it. And honestly, considering it true to these two (canon, ig?) lessens their value for me due to the shift in the thematics and I guess writing, so I think I'll ignore it when I think about the series in general. Which is such a shame, because I want to love it, it's just... not there.
It's definitely worth the time to check it out either way though. Again, pretty funny. This is what I felt about it, and I wanted to get my thoughts out. Since it's so early in its release, I've tried to avoid putting any spoilers in the post. Maybe someone will read it and appreciate, idk. Drunk driving rules.
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chiisana-sukima · 9 hours
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if heaven/hell hadn't been vying for the apocalypse, do you think sam ever would have reasonably had a shot at escaping / having an actually good and healthy life? just curious about your opinion! :)
I think the root problem was Azazel, and that neither Sam nor Dean could've done better than they did in canon as long as the instigating event of Azazel's deal with Mary remained unchanged. Plotwise, as long as Azazel still wants Sam to rule Hell's armies, everything is still essentially the same up to the point when Dean goes to Hell and Sam is killing himself with drugs and alcohol trying to get there too.
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Ruby's machinations are the first thing that would've gone differently in a No Apocalypse universe, and although Jared didn't start playing Sam as having overt, symptomatic PTSD until after the Cage, even without Ruby this is still a man for whom the only way out is through. He would've gotten himself to Hell one way or another, simply because he couldn't tolerate having Dean there in his stead. And given time in Hell as an inevitability for both of them, I can imagine it ending worse than canon, but I can't imagine it ending better.
In the bad (complimentary) spn in my head, the most likely outcome would be that since there would be no rescue from Cas, Dean would be a demon by the time Sam managed to get to him and Sam would eventually end up the King of Hell in order to protect Dean. The CW's spn I don't think would go that far, but before the first writers' strike cut s3 short, they were planning on having Sam go "fully darkside" (whatever that means) to rescue Dean, so I can't see that ending well either.
I want to specify though that I think Sam did get out and live a good, relatively healthy life. He died at home of natural causes at what appears to be a reasonably advanced age, with his apparently well-adjusted adult son at his bedside. Since the cycle of violence in spn is represented by failure to accept the death of loved ones (Mary->John, John->Mary, Sam->Jess, Dean->Sam, Sam->Dean, Dean->Sam again, etc), the reversal at the end with Dean asking Sam to let him go, Sam doing so, closing down the bunker, and having his own child who as an adult lets him go in turn, represents the end of the Winchester curse.
I don't think Sam ever recuperated 100%. He names his kid Dean after all, which is touching, but also kind of concerning given Everything. And the shrine of dead family pictures with no photos of living family to balance it out is a bit weird.
But, blurriness of his gender-nonconforming husband wife notwithstanding, this is a montage of a good life:
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He's happy. His son is happy. He goes to parks and has a home and is proud of his son for studying and playing catch.
I assume the Sam of this montage still has PTSD. Jared still has MHIs irl and still sees a therapist after however many years, and he was the one who embodied Sam's PTSD for us on screen. I still have PTSD that I got when I was 10, and I'm 60 now and my daughter is 27. It's a disability. But the hard parts don't mean you haven't had a good life in total. Barely pulling through at 38(-ish, the age Sam was when Dean died his final death) doesn't mean your disability won't be well-managed at 48 or 58.
A lot of Sam fans feel that because when Sam died his Heaven was back with Dean, sitting in the passenger seat of Dean's car, listening to Dean's music, presumably following where Dean leads, without Dean first having had a chance to grow beyond the damage he had and passed on to others, it means Sam didn't escape his past. Tbh I think this interpretation is valid. I don't think any of the writers of spn through the years could imagine a story in which the members of a relationship are truly equals, treat each other as equals, and are treated by the narrative of their story as equals. We live in a society.
But I'm not naive by any stretch, and I nonetheless can imagine it, I'm better than them, so I'm satisfied. I don't want a revival, and the more time goes by for J2M to grow out of a plausible age range to set the revival before the finale, the less I want one, for precisely this reason. I prefer my own version of the future.
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