#as usual I'm too anxious to tag people

[hairtusk]

tagged by @medievalanchoress 💞💞💞

post your lockscreen, the last song you listened to, the last picture you saved, and the last picture you took

(extract from the woman destroyed by simone de beauvoir)

[prettyboykatsuki]

✮ tags ; gn! reader, established relationship, fluff, alcohol.

"Shouto,"

"Hm?"

"You're drunk,"

Your boyfriend leans his head on your shoulder and makes a noise in the back of his throat. "A bit."

More than a bit, you think. In actuality, you don't think you've ever seen him this drunk before. He's okay with alcohol, usually - but tends to stay away from drinking too much. You think the last time you saw him get actually drunk at all, you were both twenty and he was barely tipsy then.

He doesn't like getting drunk, he's told you before. A few times. The lack of control and hazy memories make him just slightly anxious, so he's careful around liquor.

You've been dating for years now, and unless he's living some double-life (a different one than being a hero) - you've never seen him get this wasted. Ever. To everyone else in your surroundings, it probably doesn't look that way.

But you've spent enough time to know him, and he's not like this usually. Nowhere near as absent minded he is now, at least. He hasn't been able to sit still since he downed that last bottle of shochu. He went to go play with Bakugou's cat, Momo and you couldn't find him afterwards. You lost sight of him for about half-an-hour until you finally found him in the living room while everyone else was outside, feeding Momo some treat that squeezes from a tube.

(You still don't know where or how he found where Bakugou kept the treats, but you decide it's better you don't ask. Plausible deniability, or something.)

You're both grown-ups, and you're not one to worry about his liquor intake. Still, though - you're worried. Even if it seems like he's not different to everyone else, you can tell. And it's bothering you.

"Shouto," You call out to him, your hands reaching to pet the back of his neck. He's a head taller than you, and a little heavy. Palms smooth against the prickly ends of his hair - tapered and neat. He presses his cheek to your shoulder. "Shouto, love."

"Oh," He says, suddenly remember where he is. He stands up but doesn't back away far enough to give you space. You're in a far off empty corner. Most people are in the backyard but Shouto wanted some air - so you're crowded against a wooden fence and wall with your boyfriend locking you in out by the entrance. He smells nice, you think - clean with a soft touch of aftershave. You look up at him. "Hi,"

"You're drunk," You repeat, watching him blink rapidly - bleary eyes and the faintest line of a smile whenever he glances at you. He's bent over, staring at you hard. "Is something wrong?"

His expression is the same as always. Unchangingly neutral with a strong and uncharacteristic rosiness to it. Your boyfriend is handsome, alarmingly so. You're aware of it constantly, but this new face knocks the air out of your lungs.

He's... pouting you think. But not fully. His lips aren't drawn together, it's subtle like most expressions on him.

But it's...there. You're not imagining it - the soft furrow of his brow, the press of his lips. His expression grows warmer and it only makes you more confused. He shakes it off, all of a sudden, a micro-expression that fades just as quickly as it appears.

"I'm okay."

"Are you?""

He blinks slowly at that. Concern aside, you can't help but think he's cute like this. His ears are pink enough to stick out against his skin, cold air making them flush even darker.

"I'm okay," He says, then looks at you. He sobers up if only for that moment. "Had something on my mind."

"Something you can't tell me?"

"It's supposed to be a secret," He mumbles. He's really drunk. You realize this late. "So I don't know if I can."

"Mm," You reply. You feel like doting on him suddenly, so you do, petting the back of his neck before hugging him a little. "That's okay."

He follows up with a light groan. You've never heard him complain like that, so you laugh. "But I want to tell you."

"I promise I'll keep your secret at least."

He smiles at you more fully that time.

He pauses for a minute, thinking it over. You don't do or say anything in return. A beat passes of you two standing and swaying with silence where Shout to grabs your hands from in front of you. You think he's being affectionate again, wanting to hold them.

He draws your hands to his pocket though. The angle is awkward, makes you bend your wrist on the inside of coat pocket until you feel something hard and square touch your fingers. It's velvet from the material. A box of some kind.

...A box?

Shouto guides your hand again, this time out. When you pull it out, his palm is over yours. It's a jewellery box. You blink a few times, confused. Shouto hasn't let go of your hand.

"I keep missing the timing," He says, hiccuping. The lack of sobriety more clear than ever from the slight slur in his words. "It's been in my pockets for a while."

Your eyes go wide open. You can feel your own confusion and excitement twist and tangle inside of you, frantic to get a better read on the situation. He smiles down at you, disarmingly and then closes his eyes. His forehead is warm as it touches yours.

"...I thought you didn't want to married. Not really, at least." You whisper.

"Me too," He says, a wetness to his laugh that tugs at your heart . "It was on a whim. I wanted to talk to you about it. But." He frowns a little "It's tough."

You chuckle, a sudden wetness to your voice too. "I bet it was,"

He smiles at you, big and stupid. "I love you," He closes is eyes and presses his forehead to yours more. "Thank you for everything."

"Shouto," You repeat, unsure of what else to say. "What brought this up?"

"Mm," He shrugs, getting sleepier by the minute. "I thought giving you my last name would make you suffer." He admits, soft and unsure. "But taking yours. That felt...okay. Felt nice."

"You're silly."

"Yes," He says, not denying it. "And I love you."

"And you love me." You repeat, a grin splitting your face. Big tears at the corner of your eyes, making your vision sting and your cheeks ache. You look up at him again. "Enough to marry me?"

He seems almost sheepish that time. "If you'll have me."

"Are you sober enough to even remember this?"

His embarrassment makes him blush and laugh again. "My heart is beating so loud I'm a little afraid of it. So yes. I'm sure I'll remember." He admits.

"Let's get married, then." You repeat to him, so achingly happy you think you could die. You wonder when to tell your friends. Bakugou will be pissed you did at his place. "If you'll have me."

He smiles. "I'd like too."

You lean up to press a kiss to his mouth, and Shouto holds you there to kiss you longer than you expect. When you're done kissing, he's smiling.

"Anymore secrets?"

He thinks on it, then hums.

"We should get a cat."

[astrxealis]

sometimes i overthink and get overly anxious but then my worries are quelled and that feeling is just. the best

[starsinthesky5]

drunk in love || joe burrow x reader

description: after a whirlwind of a few months, Joe finds himself being more open with the public about your relationship, which takes you by surprise.

a/n: im glad i could get this up in time! i think the tag needs to be filled with more positivity and the usual joey b content. we can push through :) 

requested by the amazing and extremely talented @joeys-babe, you gave me great inspo! i have also learned that i loveeee writing little flashbacks into my fics just to add more context to the situation. when I’m writing it’s like i'm painting on a blank canvas, and i'm going wherever the brush takes me :) 

warnings: smuttttt, language, angst

word count: 7.7 k

——————————————————————

The sounds of enthusiastic fans echoed as you and Joe arrived at the Fifth Third arena for Joe’s podcast taping. Joe had been asked by the Kelce Brothers to be a guest on their live podcast recording of New Heights since they were in Cincinnati, and who better to have on than the QB1? And Joe being the polite and respectful man he is, agreed to do it. You were a bit surprised he was willing to go out in front of a big crowd of people like this and just talk. He rarely did podcasts or lengthy interviews because of the anxiety they brought him and he didn’t like to share his personal life in front of thousands of people, so you were watching him like a hawk the whole night to make sure he was doing okay. 

Right now, you both were sitting in the locker room while the brothers were doing the game portion of their podcast. You were snacking on some pretzels, offering Joe some since he hadn’t eaten anything since this afternoon, but he refused. 

“Joe, you have to eat something,” you say while pushing a bag of pretzels towards him.

“I’m not hungry,” he mumbled while looking at the monitor to see what was going on in the arena. 

“I refuse to believe that. We’re going to Woodys after and we both know that you drinking on an empty stomach will cause carnage,” you giggle expecting him to laugh as well, but he continues to stare at the monitor, seemingly lost in thought. 

You look down and notice that he’s bobbing his left leg up and down and is picking at his fingers, an instant signal that his anxiety was slowly creeping in. 

You quickly place your snack down, scooch your chair closer to him, and place your hand on his thigh, giving it a soft squeeze. He felt the light touch of your hand and stopped bouncing his leg before looking over at you. 

His eyes met yours and you could easily tell that he was getting anxious by the way they turned a shade of deep blue. “Are you alright J?” you ask. 

Joe stays silent for a few seconds before letting out a sigh, “Just a little nervous,” he quietly says causing your face to drop. “I haven’t done this in a while and I don’t wanna get weird out there if they ask anything specific, you know?”. 

Joe was referring to getting weird if they asked any questions about his personal life. He never talks about his life behind closed doors and rarely talks about you in respect of your privacy. He was worried that they’d ask him about you or your relationship and wouldn’t know what to say or how to answer them. He never really threw the “girlfriend” tag around many people for quite a few reasons. One was that it was mostly implied that you were together, another being that he didn’t want people who may not have known about your relationship to bombard you with questions about him. He kept your relationship carefully locked away because it was the most important thing in the world to him and he was afraid that the world would rip it to shreds if you opened the door a little too much. He wanted to talk about you all the time, even telling you that he might not even be able to stop once he starts. But he just never knew when or how to talk about your relationship without making you sensitive to public discourse.

“You won’t get weird Joe,” you say as you rub his thigh. “It’s okay to be a little nervous, especially because this is out of your comfort zone. You are going to do great and I am so proud of you for doing this,” you say. “I’m gonna be right there, front row on the side. Orlando will be up there with you too. And I know Jason and Travis will respect your boundaries. Maybe they’ll just keep it all about ball,”.

He nods and grabs your hand and gives it a gentle kiss. “Thank you for being here,” he says, finally flashing you a genuine smile. 

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” you say while pressing a kiss on his cheek. Joe puts his arm around your shoulder and pulls you in for a warm hug. He knew he’d be fine out there but couldn’t help but get a little nervous when he realized all eyes would be on him. Sure, in a football game, all 50,000+ eyes are on him, but that never bothered him because the game was his shield. 

“If you feel flustered, give me a look and I’ll cause a distraction for you to run away,” you giggle against his neck. 

He laughs and presses a kiss on your forehead, “My knight in shining armor as usual,”. 

A few minutes and a handful of pretzels later, you’re sitting on the side of the stage while Jason and Travis introduce Joe. The crowd erupts as they say Joe’s name and the song choice for his introduction makes you laugh like a hyena. “Get the Gat” was playing, a nod to the era that truly started it all for Joe. He was scanning the crowd for you as he walked toward the stage, eventually catching you in the front row, just like you said, in your stunning white dress that highlighted your most precious features. 

You gave him two thumbs up and mouthed “You got this,”. He gives you a big smile before walking up onto the stage and greeting the brothers. 

Things were going pretty smoothly for him. They were talking to him about his injury and recovery, his questionable tweets about aliens that got the entire crowd laughing their asses off, and some playful football + rivalry talk between Travis and Joe. He seemed incredibly relaxed up there and you felt relieved, until they changed the subject to the one thing that Joe was worried about. 

“So enough about ball,” Travis said. “What has Joey B been up to this off season. Where you been, Who you been with?”. 

“Uh oh,” you whispered. 

Joe laughed softly before saying “Just hanging around. Obviously training and getting better, some UFC events here and there, some boy's trips, spending time with family, but mostly spending time with my girlfriend,”. 

Your eyes widen at his words and your mouth slightly falls open. He just mentioned you in front of god knows how many people, and so casually? What the actual fuck. 

“Ohhh,” Travis smiles. “Is your lovely lady here tonight?” He asks. 

“Yeah, she’s right there,” Joe smiles and points over to you, causing literally everyone in the arena to turn and look at you. 

“Ayeee,” the brothers say in unison as the camera points over to you. 

Your cheeks turn tomato red as everyone starts cheering and waving at you, and you flash a big smile in return even though you were completely freaking out internally.

“Yep, that's her. She’s the best person in the entire world. I wouldn’t be able to do any of this without her support and love,” Joe says as everyone turns back to face him. “She really knows exactly how to deal with me when I’m too in my head and always shows up for me no matter what happens. I owe a lot of how I am and how I handle things, to her” he adds.

“Awww,” said Jason. 

“Especially with this injury. I seriously don’t think I would’ve been able to get through it without her. I was in a really tough spot, mentally and physically, and she really stepped up for me,” Joe says. You feel a shift in his demeanor when he says that. From relaxed and positive, to now a little tense and serious. 

The wrist injury took a toll on Joe, and unfortunately your relationship. It took everyone by surprise when it happened as Joe was just hitting his stride after recovering from the calf strain. This was supposed to be his year and when that got taken away from him, he shut down. You tried your hardest to be there for him, and he appreciated you so much. But he needed to figure stuff out on his own which caused a bit of tension between you both. And all of it got too much for you to handle; you had to deal with his emotions, your own emotions, and help him recover on top of 100 other things that were being thrown your way. 

Little arguments became common as they always would stem at the most unexpected times. Sometimes they would happen when you would check in on how he was feeling, they’d happen during a happy moment where one of you said something that didn’t land correctly, and sometimes when he would come and apologize to you for snapping at you, but you would become a child and remain stubborn even though you wanted nothing more than to curl up in his arms and let everything out. 

Flashback to December 

It had been a few weeks since Joe got surgery on his wrist. Ever since then, he’d been acting strangely and it was driving you insane. He was watching some film all day in his office so that he could help out at practice, so you’d hardly have seen him all day. 

You got off the couch and decided to bring him a snack, some strawberries and bananas, and made your way up the stairs. 

You made your way into his office, making sure that you weren’t getting in the way of anything. He was rewinding some footage with his left hand, but was struggling to do so since his dominant hand was in a cast. 

“Here, let me help,” you say as you place the bowl of fruit down in front of him.

“It’s okay, I got it,” he says trying to grab the mouse, but he was too late as you already grabbed it and fixed it for him. You looked over at him and smiled, but in return got a loud sigh and an eye roll. 

“Gee, I was just trying to help,” you replied. 

“And I didn’t ask for any,” he mumbled, slightly irritated. Your face dropped at his tone but you decided not to push it.

“I brought you some fruit. You skipped out on lunch so I thought you’d be hungry,”.

“Thanks,” he says as he pushes the bowl to the side and goes back to the film. 

You stand there for a few moments, debating whether or not you should leave him alone or talk to him. You decided to talk to him because this mood he’d been in was not welcomed. 

“Is there something wrong? Does your arm hurt?” You ask as you rub his shoulder. 

He immediately slams the mouse to pause the film and looks up. “What’s wrong is that you won’t let me watch the film for this week. I told you I'm not hungry and you’re bothering me,” he snaps.

You’re taken aback by his sudden anger, “I was just trying to help, Joe-”.

“And how many times have I said, I don’t need it,” he spit out. 

Tears welled up in your eyes as you took a step back. “I’m sorry, I- I just wanted to make sure you were okay,”.

“I’m fine” He said, slightly shouting as he looked back over to you. 

The tears in your eyes made their way down your cheeks as you felt more angry than sad. His attitude was unfucking called for as you were just trying to check in on him. 

“You know what, fine. I’m done asking you if you’re okay and if you need something. I get that you’re hurt. I get that this is hard for you. But do not for one second think that I’m just going to sit here and take this bullshit. You’ve been acting like this for weeks, on and off. And quite frankly, it’s giving me whiplash,” you unload as more tears stream down your face.

“Y/N-,” he interrupts.

“No. Listen to me. If me helping you is bothering you, If I am bothering you, just say the word and I’ll stop. You don’t have to tell me how you’re feeling, and I’ll just stop asking. I love you, you know that. But I’m done acting like this is okay,” you spit out, tears running down your cheeks faster than a trackstar running a mile.  

He stays silent for a few seconds so you take that as a response and nod your head. You leave his office, making your way into the bedroom and slamming the door shut. He immediately felt bad for yelling at you and making you cry. He fell back into his chair and looked up at the ceiling, thinking about how shitty he was. 

You lay down on your side of the bed, crying into your pillow. A million thoughts flooding your head, and a million emotions flowing through your body. You felt bad for him, you really really felt bad for him. But you started to feel bad for yourself because of how he was acting around you. Did you do something to make him act like this? He wouldn’t talk to you much about how he was feeling, so you were in limbo. 

You curled up into your pillow, a few tears still falling down your face as you heard the door open. Joe walked in and saw you laying on the bed, immediately feeling like shit because he did this to you. He walked over to the bed, crawling onto his side and gently rubbing your arm. 

“Y/N?” he asked. 

You didn’t look over at him and remained facing the windows. 

He let out a sigh before saying, “I deserve that.” 

“Listen, I am so fucking sorry for that. You didn’t do anything and I took my feelings out on you which was totally uncalled for. It’s just, I have alot going through my mind right now. But that is no excuse for me to do that to you, and you have every right to be mad. I’ve been putting you through alot lately and you’re just trying to help,”.

You turned over to face him and moved up. “So then talk to me, Joe?”. “I just want to make sure that you’re okay. I’m here, I’m always here,” you say as you wipe your tears. 

“I know. And I’m so sorry. I just don’t want to burden you with all my feelings,” he says.

“You could never. We’re in this together, we have been since we first met. I want you to talk to me whenever you need to. Please, do not keep your feelings bottled up like that,”.

“You’re right,” he says as he pulls you into his arms, his hand rubbing your back for comfort. “I am so so so sorry for treating you like shit. You have been nothing but helpful and patient since the surgery and my dumbass can’t seem to fathome that,” he says.

“You’re not a dumbass,” you say as you look up at him. “You just have alot going on in there,” you say as you move your hand into his hair. “Just let me in and let me help you figure it out,” you whisper.

So that’s exactly what he did. He unloaded all of his heavy feelings, self doubt, and fear onto you. And instead of running out of fear or anxiety, you stayed. You stayed and you helped him just as you said you would. 

End of Flashback 

You were holding your breaths around each other for a little bit, but luckily you got through it. It was a bumpy few months, but in the end, you got through it together and came out the other side stronger like you always do. 

“Seems like you got yourself a great lady,” Jason says, snapping you back to the present.

“I sure do,” Joe laughs while meeting your eyes, setting off butterflies in your belly. 

“So what have you guys been up to, if you don’t mind sharing? I think the fans would love to hear it,” Travis says as the fans begin to cheer.

Joe lets out a laugh and runs his fingers through his hair, “Yeah, why not. Well, we’ve gone on a few vacations, watched a bunch of movies we’ve been meaning to for a while, built some legos, and she’s taught me how to bake,”. 

The crowd lets out a laugh as he says that last thing. You were surprised at how he was being an open book right now and you didn’t know if you should be concerned at this newfound openness or ecstatic, but you were sure as hell enjoying it in the moment.

“You heard it here first, Joe Burrow knows how to bake!” They announced to the crowd. 

“Yup, it’s really not as hard as it looks,” Joe shrugs.

You let out a laugh when as says that. It really wasn’t that hard, but Joe was certainly not a pro baker as he was implying. 

Flashback to a few weeks ago 

It was a rainy evening in Cincy today, causing you and Joe to postpone your plans to walk around the neighborhood this evening. You were bored out of your mind, contemplating if you should take a nap or do something productive, but nothing sounded fun until an ad popped up on your phone for new cake pans which set off a lightbulb in your head.

“Cinnamon Rolls!” you said out loud as you just got an idea of what you could do for the evening. 

You quickly walked over to the kitchen and started pulling out everything you needed to make your famous Cinnamon Rolls, which happened to be one of Joe’s favorites, but Pumpkin Pie remained number 1. Joe was probably playing video games or watching something upstairs so you’d get to surprise him later with the delicious dessert. 

A few minutes later, you were in the zone and were starting to make the dough when you heard Joe come down the stairs. 

“Hey Babe, whatcha doing?” He says, a slight bounce in his step. He must be feeling good today, and rightfully so. He deserved to feel loose and cheerful after the past few months. 

“It’s a secret,” you giggle as you start making the liquid mixture. 

He raises his brows at you before examining the surroundings, eventually putting the puzzle together and realizing you are making Cinnamon Rolls.  

“Well, Can I help?” He asks as he walks over and hovers behind you, placing his chin on your shoulder. 

You stop mixing the Milk and Butter and look back at him, “You want to help me bake?”.

“Why are you saying it like that?” He asks as he begins pressing warm kisses on your neck. 

You stay silent for a few moments before taking advantage of his offer, “No reason. Here, let me show you how to make the dry mixture,” you say as he flashes you a big smile.

You spend a few minutes getting Joe situated with all the dry ingredients and then go back to your task. You peek over at him every few moments and although he’s making a huge mess, he seems to be doing just fine. Once you both were done with your mixtures, Joe insisted that he would make the dough in the mixer. So once again, you taught him how to use the mixer and left him to it as you started making the Cinnamon Sugar Filling. He was doing very well for someone who’s dominant hand is still not at 100%.

“Joe, this looks great!” you say as you look over his shoulder, rubbing it as you inspect the dough. 

“Yeah?” he asks, feeling proud that he was doing good for his first time baking.

“Mhmmm, just the right consistency. Very impressive for a rookie,” You tease. 

The next half hour passes by as you finish prepping the rolls. You roll out the dough and spread the cinnamon mixture across the sheet and Joe helps you roll it back up to cut the buns out. You place them in the fridge to rise and Joe takes responsibility for making the icing, so you pull over a barstool and watch him figure it out. 

“You’re doing great babe,” You smile as he begins mixing the ingredients while carefully looking at the recipe. 

“This isn’t so bad,” He says looking back up at you. “You wanna taste it? I’m almost done,”.

“Okay,” you say as he dips his finger into the icing and puts his finger out to you. A huge smirk appears on his face once you realize what he is implying. 

You pull his finger closer to your mouth and make direct eye contact for a few seconds before wrapping your lips around the sugary tip. You swirl your tongue around his finger, taking in all of the sweet icing. You both still hold eye contact, which makes you feel hot all around as you know how you are making him feel by doing this. A few seconds later, You take his finger out of your mouth and give him the same smirk he gave you.

“Was it good?” he teases. 

“Soooo good,” you purred. “Very warm, sweet, and delicious,” you say as Joe walks over to you. He grabs your hand and pulls you off the barstool, causing you to let out a squeal. “What are you doing?” you giggle.

“How long do the rolls take to rise?” he asks as he lifts you onto the messy counter, flour now covering your sweatpants. 

“About an hour. Why?” you ask as he starts to kiss your neck.

“Perfect. I think I need an hour to eat my favorite dessert,” He whispers in your ear before rubbing your upper thigh. 

You don’t follow what he’s saying, “I didn’t make pumpkin pie silly,”.  

“I’m not talking about pumpkin pie,” He says while coming back into your view, his eyes filled with hunger and desire, and his fingers untying the strings of your sweatpants. 

End of Flashback 

You were incredibly smiley and cheery for the rest of the recording and kept playing back everything Joe said about you. It warmed your heart that he felt a little more comfortable opening the door, even if it was just the slightest bit, to show fans your love for each other. But you were so curious as to what changed his mind. A million thoughts were filling your head, and it also didn’t help that he looked so fucking hot. Although he was wearing a comfy, laid-back fit, he looked mouthwatering and you were trying so hard not to jump at him. The extra few pounds of muscle he gained from his training this year was showing and that messy bedhead look he was sporting was filling your head with unholy thoughts the entire time. 

Once Joe had wrapped up his appearance, you headed back to the locker room area to find him. 

He was talking to some Bearcats coaches when you found him. No stress was apparent on his face and he looked like he was just fine. You let out a relaxed sigh as you leaned on the door, letting him have his conversation without any interruptions, but he immediately felt your presence and turned around. He mumbled something to the coaches and then they walked away. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” you say while moving off the door.

“Yes I did,” he says as he walks over to you, immediately pulling you closer and capturing your lips in a deep and thorough kiss. One hand cupping your face and the other sliding down your waist. You both were literally making out in the locker room and anyone could walk in at any time, but he didn’t care. He pulls away after a minute, leaving you a little breathless. 

“Cherry Lip Gloss,” He says. “My favorite,”. 

Joe loved your Cherry Lip Gloss. You remembered the moment when you both had your first kiss, he immediately pulled away from you and you didn’t know why until he told you how amazing you tasted and he had to let you know. 

Flashback to a few years ago 

You and Joe just got back to your apartment after your bowling date downtown. He parked the car in the parking lot and you both were sitting inside, wishing that the night would never end. He turned over to face you, a million thoughts flooding his head. A few being that you looked absolutely enchanting and he really really liked you. You both had been on a few dates so far, each one better than the last, and tonight felt like a dream. 

“Did you have fun?” He asked as he stared deeply into your eyes. 

“Best date ever,” you smiled. You were feeling a little nervous after tonight's date, only because you realized that you really liked him and that it wasn't just a spur-of-the-moment feeling, and you didn’t know if he really felt the same way. Was he just looking for a girl to have on his side who would take care of him during the season and be good enough to hook up with? Or did he want a girl that he could have a genuine and meaningful relationship with?

He let out a deep breath and said, “You look really pretty by the way,”. 

A blush crept up your face, “Thank You,”. 

He kept staring into your eyes as you both remained silent. He moved closer to you but you couldn’t process it because you were caught up in your own thoughts. Was he waiting for you to make a move? You both haven’t kissed yet and every date felt like it would end with a kiss, but it never did. You were all in your head about how he felt about you and you didn’t know what to do, so you thought that it would be better to just go inside and avoid the awkward moment. 

“I should probably go,” you say while staring into his deep blue eyes, but before you can grab your stuff, Joe leans in and captures your lips in a gentle kiss. You stay absolutely still for a few seconds before he suddenly pulls away. 

The blank look on his face fills your stomach with anxiety. Did your breath stink? Did he not enjoy it? Was it a mistake? You felt like hiding in a corner somewhere and never coming out. 

“Your lips,” he says. “Is that Cherry?”. 

You pause for a few seconds and say, “Yeah,”. 

“I love Cherry,” is all he says before pulling you back over to him, and completely attacking your lip with sloppy and eager kisses. You feel him grin into the kiss which immediately gets rid of your wandering thoughts. 

“You taste like love,” he says in between kisses. 

End of flashback 

He presses another kiss on your lips which snaps you back to the present. “You did great out there,” you told him. “They loved you,”.

“Yeah, it felt natural and easy,” he says as he leans back in for another kiss. 

Before you could ask him about his sudden change of heart about wanting to not talk about your relationship, a team member came over to tell you both that you’re allowed to leave and go over to the bar and that everyone would join you there in a little bit. Joe nods, wrappinh his arm around your waist, and leading you both out to the car. This newfound PDA was a little weird for you as you were walking through crowds of strangers and Joe seemed to not care. You decided not to push the subject just yet, it would be better to wait till you were alone so you could figure out what was going through his head. 

The after-party had a stereotypical College party vibe to it, and it being in a College Bar was definitely adding to the mix. Loud music and laughter, numerous cans of beer scattered across the room, and groups of people playing darts or beer pong. You felt like you were transported back to College and were drunk on nostalgia, and maybe something more. 

Joe was standing next to you, one hand firmly gripping your waist, and a beer can in the other, as you were extremely focused on the game of darts in front of you both.

“Andddd, Bullseye!” you yell as the dart hits the middle of the board. 

“Great Job, Y/N. I taught you well,” He says as you feel his hand migrate down to your ass, giving it a soft squeeze. 

“That you did,” You say as you look back up at him. Here he goes again with the PDA, not that you were upset at it. You loved it, but you were also just as confused. You watched him take another sip of his beer before breaking off to go greet a few more people. You watched as he was conversing with a group of people before he looked over at you and motioned for you to come over. 

“And this is my girlfriend Y/N,” he says as you join his side, his hand once again around your waist. You had no idea who he was introducing you to and were even more surprised that he was just tossing around the “girlfriend” tag so casually in front of people that he seems to have met for the first time. A few minutes later, you wrap up your conversation and decide to talk to Joe about what all this was about. 

“Hey Joe?” you say to get his attention. 

“Yeah? What’s up?” he responds.

“You wanna over there for a bit? I need to talk to you about something,” you say as you point over to the semi-secluded barstools in the back of the bar. He nods and you lead him over to the stools and sit down with your drinks. 

“Is everything alright?” he asks as he rubs your thigh. 

“Yeah, everything is fine,” you say as you place your hand on his. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay,”.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he questions. 

“Its just, before the podcast you were getting nervous about them potentially asking you about us, and they did,”.

“Yeaahh,” he drags out as he nods his head.

“And when they did, you seemed to be just fine and were like an open book. Not to mention the out-of-the-blue PDA you’ve been showing all night,” you giggle. “I just wanna know, why the sudden change of heart? You know I don’t mind not being so open and public with our relationship, I hope I didn’t make you feel like you had to say or do something,”. 

Joe looked deeply into your eyes for a few seconds before responding. “These past few months have been pretty hard for me, and us. You know that best,”. You nod in return, now feeling a little queasy at the mention of the rough moments you had. 

“And it gave me a lot of time to think about life,” he adds as he interlocks his fingers with yours. 

“I’m tired of acting like you’re not the reason why I can do most of this, aside from actually playing football. You always know exactly how to handle me when things get too chaotic, you know how to calm me down, you help me with literally everything, but most importantly, you put up with all the bullshit that being with me brings,”. 

“Joe,” you whisper. 

“Wait, I’m not finished. You’re the most important person in my life, and it’s time I make that known to everyone. I realized that I have no reason to be worried about what others will think, I love you more than anything and people need to know that. These past few months have shown me that I need you more than I need anything and the thought of you not being by my side freaks me the fuck out. Fuck their opinion. Fuck their comments. I love you and I chose you. Opening the door just a little will not hurt and if anyone has a problem with it, screw them,”. 

You felt like crying as he said all of this to you. Not tears of sadness, but tears of relief. You were relieved that his feelings towards you hadn’t changed, as odd as that sounds. There were a few negative thoughts about your relationship that piled up in the back of your mind over the past few months, but you never confronted them out of fear. The injury did a number on you both and you were scared that you’d lose this special thing you had to something that wasn’t in your control. 

“I love you so much, Joe. I’m not going anywhere,” you told him. 

“I love you more. And good, I think if you did I wouldn’t know how to function,” he says as he pulls you off the barstool and closer to him, slowly pressing his lips against yours. His lips tasted like your cherry lip gloss and beer, a familiar mix that you would often call ‘drunk in love’. He told you during your first kiss that the cherry lipgloss you had on tasted like love, and the beer was already intoxicating itself. A mix of both felt like you were well, drunk in love.

You were caught up in a heated moment in the dimly lit corner of the bar, not caring who saw you or who cared what you were doing. Your tongues tangled in your mouth as his hand navigated to your waist, holding you tightly. He lightly bit your bottom lip, causing you to moan into the kiss. His hands continued to wander around your hips, slowly moving down to your ass. He gives it a few squeezes, pushing you deeper into him. You pulled away from his lips and said, “Do you wanna get out of here? I’m all for being a little more open, but I think we should finish this one away from public view,” you wink. 

He playfully shakes his head and lets out a laugh, “Deal,”. 

He grabs your hand tightly and leads you through the bar, giving it a few squeezes as you make your way outside. 

“We didn’t tell anyone that we were leaving,” you said as he led you down the street to the Car. 

“We’ll be fine,” he reassures you as he opens the car door for you.

He gets you situated before going around and getting inside the driver’s seat. You couldn’t wait to get home and finish what started in the bar. Once he got on the highway his hand navigated to your upper thigh, rubbing it up and down, softly caressing your exposed skin. You were already on edge from your heated makeout before and his hand being this close to where you needed him most was driving you insane. 

“Did I mention that you looked absolutely sexy tonight? This white dress is really making me feel things,” Joe says. 

“You’re such a tease,” you giggle. 

“Hm?” He questioned, acting oblivious. 

“You know what you’re doing, Burrow. Got me all flustered from earlier and now this,” you say as you pat his hand that’s on your thigh. 

“How did I get you flustered?”.

You sit up in your seat and say, “Well for starters, you looked like walking sex tonight, even if it’s a laid-back fit kinda day. Something about you in all black makes me insanely horny. Secondly, your talking about me caught me off guard but my stomach was fluttering the entire time. And then that makeout earlier at the arena and in the bar? Yeah, I’m this close to literally passing out,”. You fall back into your seat for dramatic effect as Joe playfully rolls his eyes. 

“Well then, maybe I should do something about it,” he says while looking over at you for a second.

“What are you proposing?”. 

“Just lay back and relax,” he says. So you do as he says, knowing exactly where this would lead, especially because it wasn’t the first time.

His hand moves to part your legs, and then slowly moves higher up your thigh until his fingers are teasing the edge of your panties. He moved them to the side as you let out a quiet whimper because of the newly exposed skin meeting the cool air of the car. His fingers parted your folds, finding your wetness and sliding easily inside you. The feeling was intense, the rhythm slow and gentle as he explored the depths of your desire. You arched your back, pressing your body closer to his hand, needing more of his touch.

“Joe, Fuck,” you moaned as you felt pleasure overcome you. 

His fingers moved in and out of you, a familiar sensation building with each stroke. Heat and pure ecstasy were coursing through your body, your breath coming in short gasps as you reached the edge of pleasure. Joe’s thumb found your clit, circling the sensitive bud and sending you fully over the edge.

“Ohhh,” you moaned as you threw your head back into the headrest. 

You spent a few minutes catching your breath and he slid his fingers out of your core and up to his mouth, cleaning up the mess on his hand. “Sweet,” was all he said, flashing you a smile. 

You laugh and say, “Can’t wait to get home, It’s your turn,”. 

He looked over at you, pure lust in his eyes as he gripped the wheel strongly and pushed on the gas pedal a little harder. Once you got home, Joe parked in the garage and quickly pulled you out of the car, eagerly leading you through the halls of your home, not even giving you a moment to take your shoes off. 

“Joe, slow down,” you giggle, slightly holding him back so he stops. 

He turns around and stares into your eyes for a few seconds, then eyeing you up and down, before tossing you over his shoulders and leading you up the stairs. “Boy, someone is excited,” you laugh. He leads you into your bedroom and gently tosses you down against the silk sheets of your bed before slipping your heels off. He then kneels in between your thighs and captures your lips in a messy kiss. 

You slide your hands into his messy curls and pull him closer, if that was even humanly possible, as he starts to fiddle with the straps of your dress. A few minutes later, both your clothes are now on the floor and you are back to making out, ignoring the fact that his boner was poking your thigh. You would never get enough of his lips, so soft and plump, very easy to get lost in. He pulls away and presses a few sloppy kisses around your neck before moving down your body. 

You stop him before he goes further, “Wait. I told you that it was your turn next,”. 

“You don’t have to, Y/N,” he smiles. 

“Mmmm, too bad,” you say as you move out from under him, allowing him to lie back against the headboard. Once he gets settled, you straddle his hips and press a few kisses around his face, then kiss your way down his perfectly sculpted body. You reach his hard-on and wrap your hand around it, giving it a few pumps as pre-cum was beading at the tip. 

You looked up at him, making intense eye contact, as you wrapped your soft lips around the tip of his cock, feeling him twitch in pleasure. You start to move your head back and forth, going deeper each time as sounds of pleasure escape Joe’s lips. 

“Shit, you feel so good,”. 

You continued to bob your head up and down his shaft until you felt him getting closer. Your hands gripped his thighs as you took him deeper and deeper, nearly choking up. His breathing became more erratic as you sucked him harder and faster. He slid his hands into your hair as started to buck his hips into your mouth, a sure sign he was about to cum. 

“Fuckk,” he moaned as you felt hot spurts of his cum filling your mouth, making sure to swallow every drop. You slowly release him from your mouth and look up at him with nothing but love and adoration. 

“You’re perfect,” you whisper, wiping the spit and salvia off of your mouth.

“And you’re amazing,” he says as he pulls you back on top of him. You let out a soft laugh before kissing the tip of his perfectly sculpted nose. “You still up for a little more?” you ask him.

A huge grin appears on his face, “Always,” he whispers as he moves closer, once again kissing you passionately. You break away to put each of your legs around him and he grabs your waist while moving down to lie back against the bed all the way. You leaned down to press a final kiss on his lips before lining up his cock with your slick entrance. You slide down his length, soft moans leaving both your lips as the feeling of fullness feels like you’re coming home. 

You begin to move your hips in a slow, sensual rhythm. Your hands rested on his chest and your fresh manicure left a few marks as you dug your fingers into his tan skin. 

“Fuck,” he moaned. “You feel so fucking good,”. His hands moved up and gripped your waist, helping you move back and forth to ease the soreness that you were definitely feeling by this point. 

“Yeah,” you moaned.

“Faster Baby,” he whispered. You nodded and picked up the pace, riding him faster and harder. You could feel the tension building in his body, his muscles tensing beneath you as you moved with a steady, relentless pace. Joe started to buck his hips into your slick lower half, making you throw your head back in pleasure. Your breathy moans and sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the room. 

“Shit,” you moaned as he continued to pound into you. 

“You’re doing so good,” he whispered. You looked back down at him and smiled, he never missed a chance to praise you. He looked absolutely fucked out; his lips were red and swollen from the many kisses you shared, his hair askew, and a content grin on his face. The next few minutes passed by blissfully as you continued to ride him into oblivion. You leaned down, pressing your breasts against his chest, and started to bounce back onto his cock while moaning sweet nothings into his ear. His hands wrap around your back, pushing you closer and closer to his warm body. 

“Fuck, I’m so close,” he moaned. 

You whimpered in response as heat was building in your belly. He picked up his pace and continued to pound into your core as he felt your walls start to tighten around him. The pleasure became too much for you, so you bite down on his shoulder to muffle your screams. 

“I’m cumming, Fuck,” he moaned. You felt his hands around your waist again, tightly gripping your plush skin, as you felt him shoot his load into your core. 

“Y/N,” he groaned.

You lifted your head out of his shoulder and pulled him in for a sloppy and needy kiss to stifle his moans. You were once again lost in his lips so you didn’t even realize it but he somehow managed to flip you over so now you were laying back against the bed. He moved one of your legs around his waist and ruthlessly thrusted into your core to help you find your pleasure. Your whole body shaking as he pushed you deeper and deeper into the bed which each thrust.

“Come on Baby,” he groaned. You were so fucked out and the alcohol from earlier was finally in full effect so you had zero thoughts in your head. You just felt your boyfriend pounding into your core and the pleasure building inside your sore body. 

“Mmph, Joe,” you whined as you felt the increasing wetness between you both. Breathy moans escaped your lips as you finally felt the rubber band in your belly snap, causing waves of intense and deep pleasure to wash over you.

“Fuckkk,” you whimpered. Joe gently collapsed on top of you, making sure he didn’t crush you with his weight. He pressed a few kisses on your neck as you remained in your high.

“Joeee, Fuck, you’re so good. It’s so good,” you moaned as your orgasm came over you. You spent a few minutes coming down from your intense high and held Joe close against your body. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear, telling you repeatedly how much he loved you like it was a sacred prayer. 

You felt him press a kiss on your cheek before slowly sliding out of you, causing you to shrudder at the loss of contact. He went into the bathroom to grab a towel to clean you up before getting in bed; your body was too sore and tired to get up to wash off the sweat and cum.

“Thank you,” you said as he turned off the lights and got into bed next to you. 

“No need to thank me, Y/N,” he chuckled.

“God damn, that was a workout,” you laughed as you turned over to face him. 

“My favorite workout,” he smiled as he pulled you into his side. You rest your head on his bare chest as he plays with your messy hair for a few moments. 

You looked up into his eyes and saw nothing but love and warmth. “I love you, Joe,”.

He moved his hand down to your face, cupping the side and caressing the soft skin of your cheek. “I love you so much, baby. I’m glad I get to show the world how much you mean to me. It’s you and me, forever,” he says before leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss on your lips. 

“Always and forever,” you whisper against his lips. You moved back down to his chest and snuggled closer to him. You look back up for a second and see Joe falling asleep, a smile still present on his face. He was happy, you were happy. Everything was perfect. 

—The End—

[brucewaynehater101]

Okay, you know that hc where Tim Reincarnates as The Trash of the Bat Family? It got me thinking of him scamming and making the "Real League of Assassins". He integrates Pru, Z and Owens early, makes them his people (or assassins disguised as servants).

"Where's the coffee?"

Owens, pouring chamomile tea, "We're all out of coffee, Sir."

"Energy drinks?"

Pru, throwing a trash bag away. "All gone too, Sir."

He integrates Kon before he experiences the SA with Tana Moon and other ladies, and Kon becomes his bodyguard.

"Are we doing something bad?"

"Oh, we're doing something veeeeery bad. To Lex Luthor."

Tim rescuing Damian.

"You're Damian Al Ghul Wayne. You're an Al Ghul and a Wayne. You can do whatever you want. I'm not taking care of you."

Damian, not trusting this lying bastard, secretly follows him around. Tim knows Damian is, and begrudgingly just accepts Damian into his fold until he reaches Gotham again.

"If you die, Timothy, I will dominate the world, kill everyone, and then myself."

I love these additions so much!!!

The "Real League of Assassins" is such a petty name, and I live for it. Just Tim as a kid and his little League of Assassins (depending on how far back he went into the past and how soon he aquires the OG best assassin squad). It would be double hilarious if his "Real League of Assassins" doesn't actually kill anyone, but I also respect Tim's right to commit murder however he deems fit. I like to imagine how mad Ra's would get at the name.

Part of Tim's asshole cover comes from Pru. There's two ways this can go. One, Pru is her complete self in front of everyone (she will break someone's nose no matter their price tag). This causes major scandals and issues for Tim cause how could he hire someone who behaves like that? Or Two, Pru is creepily pleasant and respectful around other company, and Tim continues to act like usual around her. This causes people to pity Pru for having such a horrible boss.

I also live for Bodyguard Kon AUs. You know the two of them are playing a "I know your sickly Victorian child looking ass can beat me up, but I will pretend I don't know this until you tell me why" with a "please stop saving me from every small things because I know you know a sunburn isn't going to kill me." It's dealer's choice on how soon Kon finds out about Tim's vigilante gig. Also, if Kon is a bodyguard in this, is he also Superboy or the equivalent? Does he become a superhero once he finds out about Tim's heroism? There's no way Kon would stick around Tim if he believed the persona Tim kept up.

Cue Tim accidentally forming the YJ again, but this time it's hidden from the JL radars and is a closely guarded secret.

As far as Damian, I absolutely love that quote you included. It's so Damian coded and I live for him threatening to take over the world. I also want to see Tim's reaction and how concerned he is over Damian threatening to kill himself. As an older brother, he legit could care less about Damian managing to kill the entire world. It's Damian wanting to die that scares him.

As far as the AU, Tim is trying so hard to distance himself from the Waynes that his dumbass shouldn't have picked up Damian in person. He was probably too anxious to leave it to someone else, but now he has a tiny suspicious assassin who reluctantly became fond of him.

There's a few different ways this can play out.

One, Tim picks up Damian in his vigilante costume and never unmasks to Damian. The little tot starts to think of this vigilante as maybe a brother before being given to Bruce (angst of abandonment tied with identity shenanigans. How soon does Damian realize that Timothy "Trash" Drake is the one to save him from the League?).

Two, Tim starts off with his secret identity in tact but reveals himself while traveling back. They bond, Damian is left at Bruce's, and, to the surprise of literally all the Waynes, the kid is seen constantly talking to the complete jerk Timothy Drake. Damian is actually nicer to this douchebag stranger than he is to some of his family members. What's equally shocking is how kind Tim is to Damian. Tim hasn't been cruel to children before, but he hasn't gone out of his way to be nice either. This cues investigations into Tim by the batfam.

Three, Damian refuses to go live with his dad and sticks around Tim when they return to Gotham. Depending on when Tim rescues Damian, Tim's fake uncle adopts Damian, and they become brothers legally. When Bruce finds out Damian is his son, he doesn't take the excuse, "I found him on the streets!" from Tim seriously.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Follow You Anywhere 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You're online existence threatens to leak into your real life.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: I couldn't help myself.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

"So... this is what it looks like today?" You aim your camera at the sky outside your window, "sorry, the screen is kinda in the way."

You let out a nervous chuckle and flip the camera to yourself. You make a silly face. You were never overly fond of your image on the screen but the vlogs help. Like a little diary, mostly for yourself. You and your seven followers on Insta.

You bat your lashes and fix the clip in your hair, "oh, I got this free. Yeah, I bought a new hair oil and they threw this in the bag." You let your thoughts run wild from your tongue. You found a journal too daunting, the blank lines leaving you just as empty. This is easier. "Anyway, I shouldn't have spent the money to begin with."

You give another splintered laugh. The one you let out when you're anxious, or scared, or happy, or even mad.  You bite your lip and catch yourself in your digitized reflection. You stop and turn your camera to your bedroom.

"Today, I'm gonna clean this mess. Me and you guys together."

You scour the room with the lens. Your laundry is piled on the floor and you have a stack of books you need to put on the shelf. It isn't the worst it's been but it's getting cluttered.

"But first, we'll have breakfast, can't start the stream on an empty stomach," you chirp and nearly drop the phone, "oops, uh..." You fix your grip and check the number in the corner. You have one viewer; on a good day, it's three, most days, it's just you talking to the void.

You go into the kitchen, just down the short hall from your bedroom, opening into your living room. You go to the counter and prop up the phone so the camera is on you again. You tap your fingers and hum.

"What should we have for breakfast?" You ask. You don't feel as crazy talking to yourself even if there's really no one watching. "Oo, French toast. Gotta use up the eggs."

You go to the fridge and pull out the eggs and the milk. You bring them back to the counter, shuffling around for a bowl, a whisk, and the cinnamon.

You mix up your ingredients and dip the bread, one piece at a time. You put on a skillet and fry up the slices, presenting a stack of three to the camera. You smile and dust some icing sugar over the top.

“Probably shouldn't have all this sugar for breakfast,” you shrug at the camera, “alright, quick break…” 

You put the stream onto the ‘back soon’ page and take your plate to the small foldout table against the wall. You're not a fan of eating on camera. You finish and rinse up before snatching your phone up again.

You return to your bedroom and put the phone on a middle shelf and flip the stream back to live. Still that one viewer…

“Anyway, I'm back,” you wave at the lens.

You hesitate, looking around as you stand straight and spin. Cleaning, right. Before you can set to work, the phone dings.

A message?

You go back to your phone and squint at the chat bubble floating up.

‘Looked delicious too.’

“It was,” you agree with a grin, “thanks.”

‘Don't mean the toast.’

The next message has you blinking. Your nape burns. They can't mean… you clear your throat and giggle.

“Well, let's get started,” you back up and clap your hands, “you know, I've been so carried away with work. This place is a pigsty.”

You sit on the floor and sort through the clothes. You toss them into the basket as you sit in silence. You stop yourself and glance at the phone.

“How about some tunes?” 

You walk on your knees to your bedside and turn on your bluetooth speaker. You go to your phone and find a playlist before pulling the stream back to full screen. As you do, you hear a noise you've never heard before.

‘BourbonBear has tipped.’ Huh? Really?

“Oh, thanks, er, BourbonBear,” you giggle around the name, “how nice. Maybe one day I can afford a proper camera for this, huh?”

You smile and go back to the dirty clothes. You quickly ball up a pair of panties and shove them in the basket. You carry on until they're all untangled.

You move on and tidy your desk, bending underneath to gather up a few loose pens. You make your way around the bedroom, putting away books, fixing the blankets on the bed, and straightening the little figurines on the shelf above the bed.

You grab the stick vacuum and suck up the dirt and proclaim your task done. It took a lot longer than you thought. It's after eleven. The one viewer is still there.

“Whew, okay, I'm gonna get myself washed up and go to the park. Maybe I'll post that later,” you give a thumbs up next to your head as you talk to the phone, “thank you.”

You end the stream and let out a sigh. Your videos aren't much and you doubt they're very interesting but it's like venting for you. Almost like having an invisible friend. You think you will take some pictures of the flowers to share.

🧸

You take your usual path through the park. The walks help you unwind your worries. You try to come after work at least a couple days during the week and both days on the weekend. You find the mindlessness of the routine to be calming.

The deeper you get into the wooded length of the path, you slow to admire the birds in the branches and the critters crawling in the brush. You take out your phone and snap a few photos of a blue jay before it wings away shyly. You smile and flip the cam, smiling as you take a goofy selfie. You can add that to your post.

The path winds ahead and you follow it in the din, listening to the river just down the incline to your left and the tweeting from the sky. You lift your face and inhale the woodsy scent. The sudden crack of a twig startles you and you spin to face the noise. There's no one there. Sometimes you forget other people are free to just walk on through.

You chuckle at yourself and continue on. The path leads out to a suburban street where you like to look at the houses. They're much more spacious and pretty than your grimy brick apartment building.

You come out from the shade of the trees and wander along the avenue. There's a mailbox painted to look like the house it stands before and a little nook for second hand children's books to be borrowed through the neighbourhood. Sometimes you picture yourself living in one of those houses though you don't think it could ever truly be.

As you crane your head, you sense a shadow in your peripheral. You're walking a bit slow. You sidle to the side to get out of the way of the other pedestrian. When no one passes, you look back. No one.

You must be imagining things. You shrug and plod along. You're already thinking of what kind of tea you'll have when you get in.

🧸

You sit down with your mug of ginger citrus tea and set to editing your post. You add a light filter to the photos as you shuffle through them on your laptop. The process is slow as the computer is nearly five years old now and chuffing on its 4GB drive. You get to the selfie you snapped, a stop.

You lean in to get a better glimpse of the background. It's fuzzy but there's a figure just over your shoulder. How could that be? You looked and there was no one there. That's so strange.

You stare as a chill courses through you. You're thankful you hadn't put your earphones in. You wouldn't have heard whoever it was and they may have even snuck up on you. Or maybe it's just a trick of the light.

You hit ‘post’ and try to shake off the foreboding. It's nothing. You're being silly. Besides, you're home and safe now. Next time, you'll be more alert.

A message pops up. You stare at the dot over the chat bubble. You tap with your thumb and bring up the DMs.

'Stream tonight?' BourbonBear asks.

You tilt your head. You already did some today. You're tired and want to lie down and enjoy your time off. You type back 'sorry, not tonight. tomorrow <3' and another notification vibrates. A comment on your latest post.

'Pretty sweater', also from BourbonBear. You heart their comment and leave a thanks below.

You flip back to the selfie. You can't really see your sweater in the picture, just the scalloped knitting of the collar. Well, you suppose it does look cute. You put your phone down and leave it on your desk. That's enough Insta for today.

🧸

You time your shopping trip for the least busy hour. It's early and the store is almost empty except for employees stacking bread on shelves or wandering listlessly around the deli. You have your phone in the basket of the cart, aimed at you as you roll it along slowly and check your list.

The stream is just as empty. It's only just started but you don't expect too many people to be up at this hour. You stop and grab a loaf of sourdough, checking the date before showing it to the lens and putting it in the cart. You smile and announce the next item.

"Strawberries... you know I was thinking I might get raspberries instead," you say, catching the eye of one of the yawning employees. You must seem like a weirdo. It's why you typically don't film in public.

As you roll around to the fruit, you notice the count change. One viewer. You choose a basket of raspberries and show those. You see a message float up; morning.

You smile and return the greeting softly and place the berries down carefully beside your phone. You need yogurt to go with the berries.

You work down the list, making some substitutes as you tick off each item. You linger in the ice cream section a bit too long and talk yourself out of a gallon of rocky road. You lean on the handle of the cart and smile down at the lens.

"Going to check out," you say, "see you all later."

All? There's still just the one. You end the stream and take your phone out of the basket.

You wheel around to checkout and line up at the only open till. You put your items up as you greet the cashier with a smile. She seems tired as she gives a dull response.

As you put the yogurt on the belt, you sense someone join the queue behind you. You glance over as a large man stands only feet away. He's tall and burly and staring at you. Maybe he heard you talking to your audience, or he would think, yourself. You continue to unload your groceries.

"Never tried those," he comments as you take out a box of strawberry Pocky.

You pause and hold them up, chuckling nervously, as you do.

"Pretty good," you answer, "I eat way too many."

You notice the man doesn't have a basket or a cart. That realisation needles under your skin. Maybe he's just getting lotto or smokes?

"You like sweet stuff."

"Too much," you squeak even though it doesn't sound like a question.

He just stares, not saying a word. You swallow tightly and pull the last few items out of the cart and get behind it to wheel it through the lane. As you do, he looms closely, adding to the sweat gathering on your lower back.

You roll along and wait for the cashier to ring through the rest of your things. She bags them up neatly in two large paper bags. You pay with your card and thank her as you lift the first into your cart. The man behind you moves forward and grabs the second, startling you.

"Got it," he says as he places it with the other, squeezing by you, crowding you.

"Oh, excuse me, sir," you stammer, "oh," you lean on the cart to roll it to the end of the lane as you make space between you and the stranger. "Thanks, er, uh... thanks."

You turn and grab the handle, jittering. He's really weirding you out. Especially as you realise he's walked right by the cashier. He's following you.

"I can help get ‘em in your car," he offers in a drawl.

"Oh, that's alright, I... bus," you cringe as you realise you've said too much.

"I could drive you. I have a truck."

"No thank you," you walk faster, the cart rattling with your pace.

"Why not?"

"I don't know you, erm, sorry--"

"You don't?" He catches up and shoves his phone in your face, your Insta profile glaring back at you, "I paid for the milk, maybe the berries..."

"What?" You stop, just by the door and turn to him. "I don't--"

"You haven't eaten, have you? I'll take you for French toast. That's your favourite."

"Um," you blink at him as your eyes tinge, "I don't..."

"You got me through a hard campaign, just wanna say thank you," he adjusts his cap and you notice the pin on it. He's a veteran. Oh, 'campaign'. 

“Just got back home," he shifts on his feet, a meek gesture for such a large man, "and... your videos helped me remember it. Helped me hold onto it in the sh-- in the stuff."

"I... wow, okay, that's... I'm glad I could do that."

"I really don't mind giving you a ride. Lots of weirdos on the bus," he insists.

"That's nice but--"

"Please," he softens his tone, "been a while since I sat down and had breakfast without worrying about the sky falling."

You shudder and grip the cart tight. You don't know how to say no. You didn't think about who was watching. You always just assumed they were bots. Then you think of the chaching noise and the amount flashing on the screen.

"BourbonBear?" You ask.

"Yeah," he cracks a crooked smile and smooths his hand over his thick beard. "Everyone calls me Syv.”

[writingbynova]

Nanami Kento

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⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ⊹ : ceo! Nanami x employeefem!reader - explicit content; minors DNI - pwp (porn with slight plot) [un]protected sex - pet names (princess) - kinda possessive - mind breaking - this is short af coz I'm sleepy sorry babes ♡ (let me know if I missed any tags)

Word count: ~ idk but it's short

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A corporate bitch. It's what you could call yourself. Clean, demure, obedient, quiet. It's the etiquette you held onto. Until he ripped it off.

"show me your true self"

Finally your first year in this company, although that wasn't the reason for the party. Your boss, the ceo had just signed an extremely promising deal, thus, a party was thrown to celebrate. You were walking from the car to the entrance of the building, like you had done so many times but today was different, these heels were high, this dress wasn't something you'd usually wear to a party, it wasn't something you'd wear at all, you only did because your friends forced you to, a strapless corset-top short black velvety dress, barely hiding your ass from anyone who walked behind you, that made you more nervous than ever.

You finally walked in the building lobby, it was empty except for a security guard, asleep. You walked to the elevator to the sound of your heels hitting the cold building floor. The closer you got to the 17th floor, the louder it was, the more anxious you got, your heartbeat ringing through your ears, you weren't late, you had brought a gift, but you were so anxious, oh how you wished to turn back, this was a bad idea, you should have sat this one out, why did you want to integrate in the company so much? this was not your place to be, you're not welcome- *DING*

The elevator's metal pans slid open, exposing you to the whole room. They all stared at you. All of them. You walked into the room, trying your best to ignore the eyes following you. What was wrong with them?

As the party went on something felt different, entirely too different. The atmosphere has shifted, he was too close to you. Nanami Kento. CEO. Ever since you handed him the gift you got, his gaze hadn't left you. You tried ignoring it but how could you ? You could feel your heart beating harder every time your eyes crossed his. As the night went on people your coworkers started leaving, one after the other. Some offered to take you home, even though you had driven there. But he opposed it every time. Saying you had 'promised to help him clean after they all left' of course nobody would defy the boss words, except you. You would, but the grip his hand had on your hip made you a pliant corporate bitch. You stood next to him until the last person left. And when the elevator door finally closed on your last coworker you were met with reality. It was only you and him left. You didn't dare moving. But you could feel the butterflies in your stomach your thoughts ravaging your mind. Your pussy already excited at the thought of what could happen.

"You were beautiful tonight." His words caught you off guard "oh!  thank you so much si-"

"Don't you ever dare wear something like that again around here? Understood? I don't like the way those bastards look at you, I should be the only one allowed to look at your beautiful body sway in this room. Right before my eyes. Now come on darling, give me a private show."

Oh and a show you held. Your body writhed against him, his arms bouncing you on his thick large cock. Your heels were slowly dropping to the floor, your makeup was ruined, mascara dripping, lipstick all over his shirt's collar instead of your lips. Which instead were quietly moaning his name. "You've always been such a nice girl. Always dressing modest, being quiet, shameful. But today...ah... Coming in, dressed so sluttily? How could I resist indulging in you?" You could barely speak, your mind only focused on how good it felt. "Thought, ahh, you'd like i-it" you whimpered, shuddering above him. "I loved it princess"

This wasn't the plan, you were supposed to spend some time at the party, not spend the entire night riding your ceo's dick like a whore...but it felt so damn nice. His hands rubbing your lower back enticing you to go rogue on him "I know you've been holding back. Tonight you need to let go, show me your true self princess" his words ignited a fire in you. You felt so little in his arms, tightly holding your body close to his. You felt so hot. Burning, you buried your face in his neck "I need your help" you whispered, as much as you wanted to let go and show your true disheveled self to him. He had to provoke it. You had turned into the perfect corporate robot for him. Now he had to fuck you out of your shell.

"Mhm, gladly"

"Ah! K-Kento, s-so de—ep, fu-fuckk, 's too good" you cried, panting heavily beneath him.

You used your elbow to cover your face, hiding how good you felt. In vain.

"Told you I want to see that pretty face, hide from me again I'll fuck you on your own desk so you'll think about it every time you sit in that chair" he groaned, sliding his thumb to abuse your throbbing clit. "Ngh! Ah- m-mercy Ken" You whined, immediately revealing your face. "Mhm much better". His hips slammed against you, drowning you in pleasure, you struggled to talk, struggled to breathe. You held your body up on your elbow, unable to keep your head from bobbing around. You felt your legs spasm, your toes curling, you threw your head back, biting your lower lip. But you were too far, too far from him to give in. You mechanically stretched your hand, in a desperate attempt to feel him, body to body. He's Nanami Kento. Did you really think he'd disappoint ? His arms immediately wrapped around your back, pulling you into his hold, you gasped, almost choking on the air that filled your lungs, feeling his tip nudge your g-spot, with each thrust he rammed into you. He slightly moved back, his forehead against yours, his eyes dug into yours, watching you break. You felt too close entirely too close, it's like you were losing control over your body. And you did. It only took one thrust. Only one. You were cumming, all over him, throbbing and pulsating around his girth cock. Fat tears slipping out your pretty eyes. Oh he'd indulge in you every day from now on. What a perfect employee he had.

TYSM for reading!! And for all the notes on my previous posts ♡

I'm so eepy rn so this is kinda trash but I wanted to post a little something, hope u enjoyed ♡

Divider by : adornedwithlight

[alottiegoingon]

hc!friends to lovers

lottie matthews x fem!reader

summary: going from friends to lovers with lottie

warnings: lottie mentioned as lesbian once, pure fluff, nsfw at the bottom so MDNI there, not proofread

this was a request so i hope you enjoy it 🤞

@l0tt1emy this is me tagging youu

WHEN FRIENDS

୨୧ being friends with lottie matthews would include spend your saturday night on her huge house (more like a mansion to you) when her parents were out for work or just so busy that they wouldn't even notice you there

୨୧ you didn't know that, but she would spend the entire day thinking about you when it was a sleepover night

୨୧ sleepovers would be a casual thing for you and it was your favorite moment of the day cause lottie would turn it into a fashion show to model her new clothes for you

୨୧ speaking of it, you would constantly find yourself waiting in fitting rooms and their uncomfortable seats when lottie was trying on thousands of clothes just to buy (steal) one or two

୨୧ "do you think it looks too pink?" lottie comes out from behind the curtains to display the outfit she was trying on, featuring a fluffy pink cropped cardigan with short sleeves paired with a high-waisted, pink skirt that features vertical stripes

୨୧ "no, you look perfect," you say softly, eyes filled with affection while feeling a nervous flutter stirs in your stomach

୨୧ in parties, you would usually stick to her side and even though lottie wasn't extremely popular, people knew who she was. either because her parents had loads of money or cause, let's be honest, she fucking was stunning

୨୧ when offering to get her a drink and she would look at you with those pretty eyes and nod like "okay :)))"

୨୧ if you were part of the yellowjackets, during jackie's idea of telling the girls what you admire about them, you would DEF make her blush on purpose

୨୧ "lottie matthews..." you say lightheartedly and she's already screaming internally "you have the prettiest hair i’ve ever seen and a great fashion sense. and, yeah, you suck at french but you are so good at soccer and you have the biggest and kindest heart ever"

୨୧ and she's giggling and nervously rocking from side to side with her cheeks matching the color of her clothes

୨୧ lottie was a lonely kid and since her parents were always away, she would be taken care of by maids and housekeepers so she was easily anxious when speaking to people her age. luckyfor her, she would hide it quite well and the mean and cutesy lesbian in her would mask it greatly

୨୧ "does someone want to tell kelly kapowski to maybe worry less about prom and more about not fսcking up nationals?" lottie was mumbling in front of the mirror, fixing her bangs and makeup and you were ready to agree with anything she said

୨୧ "i know right?" but you didn't even know what kelly kapowski had said

୨୧ putting her money to good use, one of her favorite ways to show you how grateful she was for your friendship was to buy you things. not like once or twice but ALL. THE. TIME.

୨୧ books, vhs tapes of your favorite movies, vinyl, a cute dress you mentioned once, nice shoes, stuffed animals, things that reminded her of you. all you can possibly think of!!!

୨୧ "lot, you didn't have to. this must have cost a fortune!" and it's just her standing at your front door, hidden behind a huge teddy bear she bought for your birthday and a brand new walkman

୨୧ one night, when lottie's parents were home, she sneaked you in and you almost fell to your death when climbing the walls like fucking spider-man and getting to her room through the window but her perfume lingering around made everything worthy when she hugged you

୨୧ "thank you for coming, i know it's late," she lies in bed and tap the empty space beside her for you to join her. "it's okay, i was just watching a movie. i'm glad you called me"

୨୧ 'movie’ you said, but the flashback of you sleeping buried under the covers and snoring like an old guy comes to your mind...

୨୧ i feel like lottie would have a hard time opening up to people and letting them in but if they were genuine, she would trust them. but def insecure about telling you about her visits to the psychiatrist cause we all know she's just a silly girl with a few issues...

୨୧ but you were so respectful, reassuring and understanding to her that she doesn't feel ashamed or judged

୨୧ during that specific night when you were just hanging around together in her bed and talking about life, an accidental graze of her nose on yours led to an awkward moment that led to awkward giggles and an awkward and messy kiss and this was all you needed to call her your girlfriend

WHEN DATING

୨୧ even when dating, lottie would often feel insecure and ask you for help. reassuring her and telling her that there she wasn't broken and there was nothing wrong with her was something you always had to do but it didn't bother you at all. you were lottie's biggest worshiper and could spend hours just telling her how BADLY you loved her

୨୧ hear me out. lottie was a big fan of holding hands. you could be in class, watching a movie, reading together, talking with your group of friends, and even eating, but she was ALWAYS staring at you with pleading eyes and her palm facing up, extended in your direction, ready for you to hold her hand

୨୧ if you think she spoiled you too much already, you better take a seat cause that girl would show up at your place with presents all the time. "i know we agreed on saving money but i know how badly you wanted these..." you're speechless when she gives you something you really wanted

୨୧ but you can't get mad, you just thank her and kiss her adorable pout :(

୨୧ loves loves LOVES to give you small gifts as well like a pretty shell she found when going to the beach once or even her ENTIRE shell collection

୨୧ strongly believe that she would be the greatest big spoon ever and would love to cuddle you but doesn’t complain if you want to hold her

୨୧ lottie is TALL. a three would be afraid of her! im 100% convinced that she would put your stuff in a place you can't reach so you have to ask her for help. "baby, are you busy? can you get that for me?" and she's fighting demons to maintain her composure, resisting the urge to smile as she handles you the book she had just tucked away on the top shelf

୨୧ over protective lottie!!! she isn’t exactly jealous cause she trusted you a lot but is always around and keeping you in her sight. she has her arm around you all the time, drives you EVERYWHERE (makes her driver do that), and is always ready to defend you

୨୧ oh the many things that happened in the backseat that the poor driver had to ignore...

୨୧ if the crash had happened, one single mumble of yours about how hungry you were was ENOUGH for her to call nat and travis out. "lottie, there's no food. we looked everywhere!" "look harder!"

NSFW (MDNI)

୨୧ lottie spoils you with cute gifts but she’s not innocent. she would buy you the prettiest lingerie in the store just to fuck you in those 🤭

୨୧ she would adore when you face ride her. she just can’t resist to your moans and soft noises or how you feel so shy and dirty about it but just can’t stop. she loves to feel your legs around her face

୨୧ in fact, i’m a strong believer that she could just cum by hearing you moan her name. you can’t believe your eyes when you feel her nails dig into your thighs and lottie desperately closing her legs and rubbing them together, groaning into your pussy :(

୨୧ big fan of overstimulating you!!! holding your hips to keep you riding her face or her strap if she’s under you or rubbing your clit even after you made a mess on her fingers just to watch you squirm and cry for her 🤓

୨୧ i’ve mentioned this before BUT fucking you against a mirror in dressing rooms? she’s all in. even better if she’s fucking you from behind with a strap AND forcing you look at your messy and humiliating reflection in the mirror

୨୧ now when it comes to her, she loves when you suck her but keep your eyes on hers. eye contact is!!!! her fingers go crazy in your hair, pulling and holding so tight that it hurts but you don’t give a damn about it

୨୧ she wouldn't ever say no but she prefers to have her time with you instead of quickies. im a lottie hopeless romantic truther!!!

୨୧ i feel like she's not really loud when you're eating her out or fucking her, she just moans your name and lets lots of soft, weak and breathy noises and whimpers out 😵‍💫

[aesthetixhoe]

paparazzi — J.C.

warnings: cursing, angst, mentions of anxiety/self worth issues,

word count: ---

pronouns used: none!

request: can u write where like us and jack are out like at the mall abd fans come up to us asking for photos and all that? (were also a actor/actress. idk is this made sense to u😭)

authors note: I added a bit of other stuff into this, so sorry if this isn't what you wanted. i love this idea deeply! <3

Being an actor and going to the mall was... Stressful. You never knew if you would be recognized, so you always had to wear presentable clothing, plus you didn't know if the people who would recognize would even like you.

The mall was no exception. With the endless stores filled with fellow teenagers and young adults who knew both you and Jack, there was bound to be at least one person who knew you.

Going out with Jack was easier than being alone. He's always there to tell you that no matter who you see, or how they feel about you, you still have fans that love you... Including him. He'll hold your hand, and tell you to squeeze it if you get anxious, give you more small kisses than usual (which is already a lot). The PDA worries you further, thinking that if someone who likes him more sees you two kissing that they'll post about it and try cancelling you or something, but the love is worth it.

You came to the mall to go shopping, you needed some more casual clothes, and Jack needed some higher end items for a premier. Walking into the mall was thankfully uneventful, but once you got further into the populace of the mall, that's when the pictures started.

It wasn't paparazzi standing right inside waiting to run you down but to get pictures, but there were teenage girls who found Jack attractive. While you were also an actor, and have also been in popular things, you weren't a hot boy...

“Oh my god! You're Jack Champion. Holy shit, can we get a picture with you?!” And so it started. He obviously said yes and you moved to the side, not before he kissed your hand though. He wrapped an arm around the girl's shoulder, smiling big for her friend with the camera. They switched so the previous camera girl could get in on it. They thanked him before walking past, both still bright red, slightly shaky and whispering about how cute he was. You had to agree.

About every 30 feet was another person asking for a picture, or autograph. He would stop and gladly do whatever pose they asked for, or sign whatever they wanted. He loved all of his fans, and was willing to do anything for them.

After splitting up and going to your designated stores to buy the items you needed, you two found each other.

The walk to leave was mostly uninterrupted, just a few people recognizing you two and taking pictures. “Looks like we have some paparazzi huh?” Jack jokes, smiling at you. God he's so pretty.

“Yeah...” You say in mindless agreement. You were too busy looking at his smile and the way it made his eye squint slightly.

“Stop staring.” He says as he blushes and looks away. He loves your attention, but it doesn't stop him from blushing every time.

Once you two were home you spent time scrolling through Instagram, looking at the posts jack was tagged in, seeing all the pictures fans had taken with him.

Then... There was a picture of you.

It was a “news” Instagram account that posted celebrity sightings.

“Ah, I see you've found the stalker photos...” Jack chuckles as he approaches the back of the couch. He puts his chin on your shoulder watching as you scroll through the pictures.

“Yeah. I'm actually... Kinda flattered?” You almost ask. He hops over the back of the couch to join you in sitting. He looks at you questioningly.

“What do you mean?” He asks quietly. You hated having candids taken, they ‘always looked bad.’

You look at him before looking down embarrassed. “Well... Normally it's just pictures of you. And I hate photos, you know that, but... It feels nice to be recognized. I just feel like an accessory to you sometimes...” You admit softly.

He grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. Once you make eye contact, both of his hands settle on either of your cheeks to keep your head steady.

“[Y/n], you'll never be an accessory. You're your own person. You're an amazing actor, and an even better person.” He states into your eyes, and you can feel something. Something warm deep inside of your stomach. Something in your chest, like you'd just drank a hot drink on a cold day that warmed up your insides.

“I love you.” You breathe out, thoughtlessly. Thoughtlessly.

Your eyes widen in shock as your mouth falls agape. You actually said it... Holy shit. He's silent. Oh fuck. Oh god. This was such a mistake.

“Jack, I am so sorry. I-I wasn't thinking and it just fell out and I know we haven't said it yet, and I don't want you to feel obligated to say it back but I just-”

“I love you too.” He smiles softly, leaning in to kiss your lips. It felt like the stars aligned and the earth stopped spinning and time stopped and everything else people use to describe being in love.

You pull away, looking into his eyes, tears welling in yours. “Are you ok? Should I not have said it?” He asks, brows furrowed in worry.

“No!” You exclaim grinning, then reaching your fingers to the nape of his neck, “I'm just so in love with you.”

[sunafc]

accidentally in love - 17, single

taglist: @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @gigiiiiislife @phoenix-eclipses @needtoloveoutloud @azharyy @dearneverland @sleepystrwbrryy @oliwiasworlds @iluv-ace @rrosiitas @staygoldsquatchling02 @p4ndawrites @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @loveliepa @nnnyxie @iluvaquaphor @juliluvhz @kodzuken-hoe @luvvmae @sunset-venuz

if u want to be added to the taglist just let me know in the comments ! !

Right now you are going to the college library, Oikawa offered to help you study for your linguistics exam. He’s right beside you and your fingers brush against each other’s as you walk. This is nice, you think. Over the past few weeks you and Oikawa had spent a lot of time together. It felt natural to be part of each other’s lives. You wanted to introduce him to your friends, as you had just met his own.

Oikawa tugs at your hand, ‘Are you listening to me?’

‘Sorry,’ you look down at your hands, interlaced together, ‘What did you say?’

He smiles softly at you, ‘Do you want to grab dinner together, later?’

Oikawa doesn’t let go of your hand and you come to realize you enjoy that. His skin is really soft. He tugs at you again, noticing you’re getting lost in your thoughts once more.

‘Sure,’ you nod smiling back at him.

He holds the door to the library open for you and then follows you in. You spend a few minutes looking for the books you need before finding a free table.

You chose to study in the library because you knew if you studied at home you would get somehow distracted, though it seems the library isn’t really helping you. You’re finding it very difficult to concentrate when Oikawa is sitting next to you and his thigh presses against yours under the table. You keep reading the same sentence over and over again but the words have no meaning. You can’t stop thinking about how the last couple weeks have felt like dating, rumors even started going around campus about you two. But you don’t need a boyfriend, that’s what you settled on. You let out a deep sigh and read that sentence once more.

Once you’re done reading the chapter Oikawa lends you some flash cards, ‘I made these when I took this exam, I thought maybe they could help you.’

‘Thanks,’ you smile.

He pats your head ‘You seem a little out of it,’ his fingers run through your hair, ‘Are you alright?’

You open your mouth to reply, already thinking of the usual answer Just tired, but you stop when you notice two girls making their way towards your table. Oikawa’s hand in your hair drops to your thigh as he turns to them.

‘Hey,’ one of the girls says, fidgeting with her hands. Oh, you already have a feeling of what is about to happen and the air around you starts feeling really cold.

‘Are you single, Oikawa?’ She finally asks.

He nervously looks at you and you’re not sure how to read his face. He looks back at the girl. Your stomach is in a knot, he is single, you two are not dating. She’s really pretty, too. You don’t want to be there when he answers her, you quickly gather your things under the confused gaze of Oikawa.

His grip on your thigh tightens ‘Y/n?’

You move his hand, ‘Sorry I–’ you get up, ‘I need to go,’ you walk towards the exit without even thinking about making up some excuse. Your heart is racing, your hands are tingling, it’s hard to swallow and you’re feeling anxious, worried, sad... is this jealousy? This is all my fault, you want to be mad at Oikawa but this was really all your doing. You did exactly what you told him not to do so, really, you can only be mad at yourself. You shake your head as your vision starts to get blurry because of the tears forming in the corner of your eyes.

notes:

well well well, if these aren't the consequences of y/n's own actions... ops

anyways!

things will get better next chapter.. maybe😋

for the people who asked to be added to the taglist but don't see their names: tumblr won't let me tag u for some reason so i'm sorry abt that 🙁

previous - masterlist - next

[porkcutletbowl44]

Tags!: MDNI🔞, mutual voyeurism, comfort

(my smut skills are rusty, it's been some time, mostly just practice)

Another note, this is unrelated to Far From Perfect, I just need an outlet because I'm ovulating

═══════•°• ⚠ •°•═══════

Everything might have just changed permanently, he fears.

Not even 15 minutes ago there was fire and passion, lips and teeth, the taste of skin and leftover sweets from lunch, months of contained lust spilling out in messy bursts, eager touches and labored breathing.

And now? Silence.

You are curled up on the other side of the couch in the corner in a tight ball, wearing one of his shirts and your panties, your eyes cast downward.

Fear? Embarrassment? Anxious? maybe all.

Keegan glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, trying and failing to act as if he wasn't paying attention, how can he not pay attention to you?

He's smoked his cigarette and was halfway through a second one now. The silence is deafening, but the TV in front of you both was on for white noise; a reality TV show running about the lives of rich people, who are now bickering over something stupid like what brand new car to buy and add to the collection.

He tried to pretend like he didn’t notice your hesitance, but that's asking a starving man to not eat. Every movement, every shiver of your body. He noticed it all, refusing to push you further past the limit you've reached.

He didn't want to scare you, or make you feel bad.

He also didn’t know why you backed out.

Keegan let out a sigh, placing the half-smoked cigarette in the overfilling ash tray, as he leaned back into the couch, running a hand through his hair to get it back into place, something you passionately ruffled into a mess.

"Baby," he muttered, turning his head to look at you.

Meekly, your eyes meet his.

Keegan’s heart almost breaks. He hated this. Hated seeing you like this, nervous and unsure, wary and skittish.

Usually you were strong, confident, and outgoing— but right now, you're none of those. He swallows the lump in his throat, slowly sitting up and placing a careful hand on your knee.

"Are you okay…?"

Keegan's frown matches your own as you worry your lip, still swollen from the usual make out session, you avoid eye contact. He lightly squeezes your knee, silently coaxing you to say something, when you won't under these circumstances.

"Listen."

Keegan slowly scoots closer, moving to press his hip against yours, looking down at you as you sit like a curled up, nervous animal.

"Did I pressure you?"

You shake your head, exhaling nervously.

"No, I'm sorry..."

Keegan scoffs. "Don't be sorry. If you didn't wanna, you didn't have to."

Despite his words, his stomach twisted. What if you were lying? He knew sometimes you did that to try and avoid upsetting him, or worrying him. What if you were playing two roles here, unwilling to face his concerns?

He could feel a sickening, cold chill of guilt settle deep into his bone marrow, wondering if he did push you. Did he do something wrong? Is there something you don't like?

His mind begins to whirl with thoughts like a storm: Was I too pushy? Did I go too fast? Did I say something wrong? Was I too rough? Did I hurt you?

Keegan thought he had been respectful, waiting patiently while you were comfortable.

He hadn't tried to push you, pressure you. But now he was worried that maybe he had. He had hoped you wanted this. That you'd be ready, as he was. After months of secret, testing the water touches, sneaking off like teenagers to get a taste of lips, he thought that now would be perfect.

He wanted this. To be physically intimate with you, to seal the deal into something more after months of slowly waiting.

But now?

Now he wasn't sure, and he felt like a fool.

"Promise to not be mad?" You whispered.

Keegan's jaw tenses, his nerves on full alert.

Oh, god. I did something. I pushed her, now it's all over.

Without a second thought, he quickly nodded. You uncomfortably shift in place, fingers wringing together. Immediately, Keegan's mind thinks of a million different reasons why you would be nervous.

Did you have a bad experience? Did something happen before you met him? Was it something he had done? Was it something he will do?

As you finally look at him, you're pumping with anxiety. "I have trouble,"

Keegan’s brows furrow together, head canting to the side like a confused puppy. What could you possibly ‘have trouble’ with?

"Trouble with what?"

You sigh, shoulders slumping in what he assumes to be reluctance.

"I don't have much... experience. And, I had to stop, because I can't... Finish,"

Oh.

Keegan’s mind instantly settles of all the worrisome thoughts, his shoulders sagging as relief washes over his body like a tidal wave. While he isn't the problem in this equation, you have worries of your own that dwarf his.

He wasn't the problem, thank god.

"Hey," he soothes, scooting a little closer. "It's alright. That's alright, baby."

"It's not," you almost cry, turning your head away.

"Yes it is," Keegan counters quickly.

He reaches out to gently grip your chin, coaxing your face to look at him. "You didn't do anything wrong, you don't have experience, that's okay. It's not a bad thing." he explains, leaning in to brush his lips against your temple.

Keegan hates everything about this— the embarrassment, the hesitation and anxiety you feel. How you must feel like something's wrong with you, is fucking jarring.

There's nothing wrong with you.

"I swear, it's okay." he softly reiterates, releasing your chin and wrapping an arm around your waist to scoot you on his lap.

"I disappointed you..." You mumbled, face planting into his shoulder in a lazy slump.

He'd never be, at all, disappointed in you.

For this? For something you can't even control, especially for your lack of experience? Not at all.

"No, no, you didn't." he immediately reassures, pressing a firm warm kiss onto the crown of your head, squeezing you tightly. He tucks his face down into the crook of your neck, gently nuzzling against your skin.

"Never. You could never disappoint me, baby."

He leans back into the couch, fingers pressed into the soft flesh of your hip, his chin resting on your shoulder giving side of your neck a trail of warm kisses.

"I don't care if you have experience or not. I don't care if we don't have sex," he murmurs beside your ear.

It was half true for the most part; he'd been dreaming of finally getting you in his bed, waking up to you, taking the next step in a relationship he was taking seriously for once. And if you didn't want that, or you still weren't ready, then no harm.

"As long as you're comfortable, I don't care. That's all I want.”

"But you will care,"

"No, I won't."

He gently grips your jaw to turn your face and face his, pushing your hair away from your face with his knuckles.

"As long as you don’t care, I won't care. I don't need sex. I just need you."

You pout, he sighs, his shoulders slumping, you're not letting this go or being reassured. He can't blame you, men are known for being needy, needing something tight and warm to dump their cum in and expect enthusiastic moaning in response.

"You're not thinking properly," he murmurs, "You're makin' a problem in your head when you're not thinking logically. Do you honestly believe I'd be mad at you because you don't have experience? Really?"

"I'm mad at myself, I do want to, but it's going to be the same thing every time..."

Keegan groans.

He knew it.

He knew you were thinking something you shouldn't have been.

"Don't blame yourself. You can't help it, and I'm not blaming you. It happens. I understand that. We'll figure it out. Baby, it doesn't bother me."

"It bothers me!" You correct frustratedly, "I want to have a sex life, I want to enjoy it like you can, I want... I want what I can't have,"

Keegan's chest twists into a knot of pain, your confession is raw and honest.

It's insane hearing you speak like this, how you're getting down on yourself, thinking you can't do something or that something isn't right with you.

The first step is making you feel better.

The second is helping you feel good.

And maybe, some wisdom can help.

"Hey, look at me," he whispers, gently tipping your chin up. "It's not just about gettin' off."

Your eyebrows knit tightly, "what?"

He gives a slight scoff, gently rubbing the nape of your neck.

"It’s not about the end. It’s not about gettin' off. That's just the bonus. It’s not the main goal." he states matter-of-factly, lightly squeezing your hip. "You think that you're not satisfying my needs by not having an orgasm, but you are. You're pleasing me. You're makin' me feel closer to you."

"But that's..." You faulter, confused.

You must think it's supposed to be like porn or some shit. Like you're supposed to feel what they are acting, what isn't real. Shame on the ones who didn't treat you fairly, shame on them.

"But what? But how? Don't tell me no one's taken the time to do what you like." he echoes, lightly rubbing your hip.

What you need to understand, is to get out of your own head for a while. That's one of the problems, you're thinking too much about it. You are too caught up in your head, the what if's, the how's, all of that needs to leave you conscious.

"Do you want to know what actually does get me going?" he murmurs, leaning in to brush his nose against yours.

"It's how you smile at me," he confesses, his fingers tracing over your spine, rubbing small circles, "The way your laugh makes me laugh. The way you look, the way you talk," his voice drops an octave lower, the words coming out like a grumble. "That's what makes me want you, and those small things are better than an orgasm."

"So you just pop a boner every second I'm here?"

The bark of laughter that escapes is true and gravelly, a slight chuckle bubbling in your own throat. And, yes, you are correct.

"You make it sound so crude," he retorts, "but I ain't gonna lie. I do get hard for you. Lots. Especially with the way you dress, and the things you do, even if you're just going about your day."

His fingers trail up and down your spine, tracing the outline of your shoulder blades. He nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck, enjoying the intimacy of just holding you.

"Being hard is just a little reaction, baby," he murmurs, lips lightly brushing against your neck. "It doesn't mean it has to lead to something."

"I want something like that with you, though,"

Keegan frowns.

"You already have something like that with me," he soothes, placing kisses down your neck, lips pressing against your racing pulse. His hand slides up under your– his –shirt to rest against the small of your back.

"I told you, you're already pleasing me. I get like this without you trying to do anything." he murmurs in your ear, gently nipping your earlobe. "It just happens, baby."

You let out a ragged sigh in frustration, and this time you are trying to focus to his satisfaction. "No, Keegan, I want to sleep with you,"

You want him.

It awakens something in the deep, dark recess of his mind. A low growl echoing in his ribcage, ricocheting off the columns of bones, a beast coming out of a deep hibernation with an insatiable hunger shows it's ugly head.

"Yeah," he exhales, shifting in his seat, trying to ignore the way your words and bluntness are stirring something in his gut.

"That's obvious." he breathes.

"And it makes me think I'm selfish to say that I won't get anything out of it, because my body doesn't want to cooperate."

Keegan's eyes soften, the sight of you being like this cutting through his feels like a knife. He looks at you for a moment, silently trying to think of what to say. To reassure you, to comfort you.

To whoever hurt you like this, death is too kind of a sentence.

Then he lifts his hand, gently running his knuckles down your jaw, "You aren't selfish for wanting something. Nothin's wrong with you— there ain't a person alive who works perfectly."

You're going to keep blaming yourself, he knows it.

He knows you’re going to continue to tell yourself that there’s something wrong with you, that you won’t satisfy him, that you’re a disappointing partner and will continue to feel this way until you snap.

You won't break while he's around.

He won't let you be like this.

He has an idea.

"Listen to me, angel." he rasps.

He cups your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him. His thumbs gently graze your cheeks, forcing you to pay attention to him.

"You're gonna do it."

Do what? The question sits on your tongue before it's squashed out of existence as he lays you against the arm of the couch, his legs prying yours apart to lay opposite of you.

"I'm going to teach you something," he grunts, settling on his back while you're splayed out half on his lap like a silver platter.

"Show me what you like."

"Like...?" You prompt tensely, fingers curling into the hem of his tee sprawled on the top of your thighs.

"I'm serious," he responds, his hands slowly trailing up your leg, fingertips brushing over the outside of your thighs. He gently pushes up the fabric of his shirt that you're wearing, your pretty panties on full view for him to see again.

"I'm completely serious. I wanna know what you like, baby. This," he grabs the inside of your thigh, giving it a squeeze, "—its all about connection. Not the sex itself. It's trust,"

You squirm under his gaze, your skin painting with color, teeth capturing your swollen lips- oh, Keegan's always had a thing for the shy ones.

"You want me to—"

"Touch yourself."

He slowly drags his hand down to your knee, pushing it further away, tucking the bend over a thick thigh. His touch is careful, and his words come out low and quiet. Hungry.

"I want you to show me. I want you to trust me enough to show me what you like. Tell me. Guide me."

For a moment, you just blink and stare in shock. He just rubs his hand up and down your calf, trying to bring you out of your stupor. This, the problem, is that you think too much. You're over complicating something that is meant to be fun, something that can be amazing.

"Hey, hey." he calls, giving your calf a small squeeze. "Don't get lost in your head, baby. Come back here. Just nod and then tell me. I won't even touch you,"

The trepidation in your eyes holds you back, the cogs churn in your head, a dozen thoughts flashing through. You need to trust him with this, but he also understands that he shouldn't push you. He can't push you and he won't.

"It's just me here, baby. Just wanna watch, that's all I'll do." he reassures, "Nobody else. It's just us."

Your skin is silk under rough callouses, like a calm night in the ocean pushing against the barnacle riddled hull cutting through in a choppy push and turn.

"Don't think, just follow what feels right. I won't pressure you or touch you unless you want me to. It's all up to you. Can you do that for me, baby?"

And then the moment of truth, you nod.

"Good girl." 

Keegan gives a slight nod, his expression struggling to hide his excitement, the curiosity for something new. He gently grabs both of your thighs, coaxing you to bring your legs up until your feet lay next to his ribs. From his angle he can see between your legs, that small wet spot at your slit already forming, he's becoming hot and heavy at the mere sight.

"Just relax," he mutters, "Just relax, baby. I just want you to feel comfortable."

You hum quietly, moving with his guidance to situate yourself.

"That's it," he whispers, his breath coming out in a deep exhale.

His hands slide down your soft thighs, watching intently as you make yourself comfortable, your body open and exposed to him. You squirm your back around, elbowing the pillow behind you to lay comfortably on a even surface. Your hips wiggle down, accommodating for his wide man spread.

God, this: seeing you like this, the way you trust him, the way you listen to him. It makes his heart race to no end.

"Alright," he murmurs. "You're all done? You're comfortable?"

You nod again, your face tucked down as it turns a warm, deep red color from the exposure and sheer shyness of the exposure.

"Look at me," he quietly reminds you. "Stay here, don't get lost in your head. You're doing good, baby."

You exhale softly and nod, limbs going lax over his legs.

Keegan's eyes rake over you, taking in the sight of your bare legs opened for him, your thighs trembling softly around firm muscle prying them open. His hands glide over your calves, fingers tracing along the soft flesh.

"Fucking beautiful like this," he murmurs, the comment slipping from his lips before he can even realize it.

He bites the inside of his cheek, silently scolding himself for his outburst. He not trying to scare you, doesn’t want you to think he’s some perverted freak. He might be, with you. He just thinks you look amazing like this.

He rubs his hand up and down the inside of your calf, hoping to distract you so he can get his bearings.

"So smooth," he comments, shifting his hips, "No razor burn."

He watches as your hand drifts down the front of the shirt you’re wearing, tracing down your stomach to the waistband of your panties. He swallows hard, thoughts becoming dirtier by the second.

"I want you to take the shirt off," he instructs rough and deep, a way to gather himself before the show starts, "I want to see you."

A low growl vibrates in his throat as you pull off his shirt, tossing it to the floor. His eyes rake over every exposed inch of skin for the second time, drinking in the sight of you like a starving man.

It's just as good as 20 minutes ago, seeing you shirtless for the first time and this is just as good.

He lets out a shaky pant, his hand gripping the edge of the couch cushion as he forces himself to stay still.

"God, look at you." he whispers, his eyes roaming over your breasts heaving with your breathing.

Keegan's eyes are snap to your hands as they go to your panties, watching as your fingers lightly dip beneath the edge of the lacy waistband.

He keeps his lips pressed tight together, forcing himself to remain still and quiet. A quick rush of excitement and anticipation swirls inside of him, stirring up his insides.

"Slide them down." he instructs in a rough and gravelly strain, "Slowly, take them off, baby."

Your fingers push them down over each swell of your hips, hooking off your ankle for his greedy hand to snatch them away from you, stuffing them unceremoniously into his pocket.

He returns his hands to rubbing your legs, trying to soothe and distract you so you’re not so shy and uncomfortable.

"So good to me," he murmurs, shifting in excitement. "You’re doing so good."

You shiver under his hot touch, the gentle brush of his fingers sending tremors through you.

"So goddamn sexy, baby," he whispers, squeezing your thighs. His gaze rakes down your now-naked body, his dark eyes drinking in your glistening pussy.

He knows he's losing control. He's slowly becoming more impatient. He wants to touch you, to take you, but he has to remain vigilant. Has to do this for you.

He has to hold back his base primal instincts. He can’t remember the last time he was this excited, this turned on.

You look so goddamn beautiful.

Your fingers shyly touch, aware that there is an audience as you play with your slippery folds.

Keegan has almost turned into a statue, his body unmoving save for the rapid rise and fall of his chest. He watches intently, his hands clawing into his thighs to keep himself under control.

You're so unbelievably wet, and he promised to not touch you and he hasn't, and you're wet.

He’s almost aching to, so tempted to take over, to bring you the pleasure he knows you want, what he knows he can bring.

For now he can imagine your hand has his.

"Go on." he murmurs, his voice thick, "just go slow for me, baby. I'm right here."

Your fingers push your folds apart for him, your hood pulling back to expose that oh so sensitive clit poking out. Your labia slumps to the side, your drooling hole leaking everywhere—

Keegan purrs in need, at least he gets to see your bare cunt like this for the first time. Every tease, every ghosting touch, he imagined as his own.

You let out a shuttering breath as you circle your clit slowly,

"Y-You're just gonna... Sit there?"

He wants to touch you, to replace your own fingers with his, that is something he will confidently admit.

A low guttural growl rumbles deep in his throat, his breathing becoming more and more ragged. This was a bad idea. He should've just picked you up and brought you to the bedroom, took it much slower, gave you all the attention you need, not done this.

He didn't realize how torturous and good this would be.

"Yes," he grits out, his eyes glued to your fingers. "Just watching you."

Your fingers trace down to your hole, curling in only to cover it from his eyes.

He tears his gaze up to you like a heavy weight with a heated look, "Unless you want me to do something?"

He does want to do something, to touch you and give you the sex you deserve, but this is for you. This is to see what you like, how you react to things, how you want it.

He's doing this for you.

He's doing it to please you.

"Relax. Do what you'd normally do. What you like, feels good doesn't it, baby?" he rumbles. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, trying to ease the dryness in his mouth.

Your hips jerk up softly, the length of your finger grinding up and down, up and down, slow and rhythmic, every pass of your second knuckle brings a twitch to your thighs.

"Can you... Do it too?" You breathe, forcing your eyes to stay open as your fingers work.

A small smile stretches across his features, a thrill of excitement running through him at your request.

"I'm gonna need a little more than that, baby," he growls, his eyes struggling to decide looking at you, your hand, and your absolutely soaked pussy, "Say exactly what you want me to do."

You whine, "Touch yourself too,"

A shudder runs down his spine at your words. This…this is not how he thought this would go. He didn't expect the roles to be reversed, to be the one being put on the spot like this.

The thought of you watching him as he touched himself…

"Fuck," he grunts gruffly, his cock twitching against the inside of his waistband.

He palms himself as his head dips back, growling lowly. He just needs a moment to collect himself. He just needs one moment of clarity.

Finally, after a few tense seconds, he looks up at you, undoing the button and fly to tug himself out. He definitely didn't think this would be how you see him for the first time, but fuck it there's a first time for everything tonight now.

He's unbelievably hard. Tip tacky with smears of pre cum that's still drying on his hip, flushed red and angry, veins popping on the underside of his shaft.

You whimper softly, fingers slipping down to collect slick and rotating back.

He lets out a harsh breath, his eyes almost rolling to the back of his head. He'd just need a little bit of stimulation, just something to match you.

"Give me some," he orders.

Your fingers delve into your folds, gathering what you can and coyly reaching for him, lathering his base up to the ridge of skin on the underside of his cock.

Keegan lets out a hiss, his eyes fluttering shut. The muscles in his abdomen flex hard as you touch carefully, a shudder running through his body at the contact.

He feels like he's going to bust any second.

Your touch was heavenly. He was aching and now your touch was just teasing him.

A low guttural growl emits from him, a deep rumble in his chest.

"Don't look away." he demands, his eyes locked on you like a predator and it's prey.

His hand closes around your wrist, stilling your movement for a moment.

"See how bad you've made me want you?" He rasps darkly.

He releases you, purring in satisfaction as your fingers work desperately on yourself, chasing that lightning bolt feeling deep inside your aching cunt.

"Do what you'd normally do," he instructs in a low rumble, his hand stroking in time with you. "I won’t move."

You've done a number on him, making him so hard he's almost about to cum at just the sight.

He wants to break.

He's just about reached his limit.

His muscles are tense and his blood is pumping, and it's taking every ounce of his restraint to not pounce and devour you.

He's in too deep now. He can't back out.

He's just got to see it through.

This is about trust and about letting you take control.

It's not unwelcome, but it is certainly different.

"I like watching this. Seeing you like this," he pants, his hand squeezing as he downstrokes hard, "So damn sexy, knowing you're all mine, huh?"

"Yours," you mewl, your hips straining up against your fingers.

Keegan's other hand is curled into a fist so tight he feels as if he might break it. He strokes himself tighter, ruddy tip peeking with every pass.

The sight of him makes you writhe in place, your fingers almost slipping off yourself with every frantic motion.

"Yeah, that's right," he grunts, shifting himself so he has a better view. "All mine. This is mine. Show me. Show me what mine looks like."

One dainty finger sinks into your far to empty hole, your slit stretching around the thicker base of your finger.

Every muscle in his body tightens, his eyes rolling almost to the back of his head. His hand speeds up as he watches it live, his breath turning into hot pants.

"Holy shit," he rasps, unable to look away how your finger tells him how tight you are.

His hips roll upward, aching for pressure, for someone to touch him. He's dying to be in you, to feel that tight heat.

"Yeah?" he breathes huskily, "Feels good? You like that angel?"

"So good, especially right here—" you whimper, palm angling down on hyper sensitive nerves.

He looks wrecked, he is wrecked, his mouth open and panting, his eyes locked on your body like a starving man.

"Show me, let me see more,"

"I-Its inside," you murmur meekly, your pupils blown wide, showing the pretty glimmer of tiny tears.

"Yeah?" he purrs hoarsely.

He shifts his legs wider and dips his chin down to watch you fuck yourself to him fucking himself. His brain is overloaded, completely overwhelmed. He's not sure how much more he can handle, how much more he can watch.

"How deep?" he growls, flaring tip coming into view as each tug pulls foreskin away.

Your thighs twitch, toes curling next to his waist.

"I can barely reach," you whimper.

A guttural sound emanates from his chest, his body almost trembling from the effort of staying still.

"Show me, baby," he instructs, "Show me how far you can reach."

His eyes are glued to your glistening finger as you lay it on your pussy, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, He's never seen someone like this wet before, this needy, for him. He's going to lose it, the control he's kept so closely being ripped from his grasp.

This was too much.

Having you so willing, so open. It's almost too much

All from him.

"Shit, I'd do anything to taste you. C'mon, don't stop now," he begs breathlessly.

This, you were driving him crazy, making him want to do things, say things.

He's never like this, normally in control of himself, but there is something about you that just makes his head spin, makes his control slip.

You're an image of pure lust and ecstasy, something for him to relish and drink in, and that's all he can do.

"Good girl," he croons roughly, "so pretty when you do what you're told."

He’s completely lost in the moment, his breathing heavy and ragged, the wet sound of your slick as lube for his cock, the soft feminine pants coming from you, this is the best he's had and he's not even fucking you.

"So good, aren't you?" he rumbles, his eyes locked on you like a hawk. "You like this, huh? Tell me how it feels."

The sounds coming out of you have him absolutely weak he hasn't done anything to you, his head is almost spinning from lack of blood.

"S'good," you slur, the pads of your fingers pressing into your bud harder.

He pants and grits his teeth at the sight, resisting the urge to move closer to you, fuck you with his fingers, his cock. His eyes are hooded, his gaze dark and heated as he watches you, a low guttural growl purring in his chest.

"Yeah?" he grunts, his body trembling with the effort to remain still and not cum. "Keep going, you gotta tell me more than that."

Keegan is a man of straight to the point. Always has been, needing direct and clear.

You gasp softly, your hips canting against your fingers, "Feels s'good I wanna... Put your cock in my mouth and.. play with myself,"

His body jerks and trembles when your words ring in his ears.

"Oh fuck." he hisses, his head tossing back.

He loves watching this, seeing you tease and play like he's not there.

He's never heard you this vulgar before, this crude, he's pushed you so much to this point.

He doesn't mind it though, in fact he thinks it’s beyond hot.

"You want that? You gotta come first," his hand pumps faster.

You whine, "yes,"

His hand is almost a blur, his eyes glued to you. His head struggling to not roll back.

"You're so damn close baby," he croons. "I can see it. You just gotta let go." He pants, swallowing hard.

The pressure is building, rapidly, unstoppable.

"Stay with me, alright? Keep going, just focus, you're doing so good,"

Two of your fingers rub furiously at your clit, moaning and watching his fist tug himself off to you.

"Don't look away," he warns, his voice gruff and thick. "Keep those eyes on me."

He's barely holding it together, barely holding himself back as he watches you. He's completely captivated, unable to look away.

"Just a little more," he rumbles, his hand working in time with your own, "You close?" He almost mocks.

"Yes," you whimper, legs shaking and flexing.

"That's it, baby, I can see it," he groans, his hand pumping faster. "You're almost there."

He's almost delirious, so lost in the moment he's not even caring that he's dry jerking.

Your fingers circle twice more, a breath stuttering in your lungs, eyebrows scrunching, and oh— there it is.

It's pure, raw bliss on your face. Your eyes screw shut, your thighs shake on top of his, your hole fluttering around nothing—

That does it for him.

With a throaty groan he creates a tight fist over his cock head, cumming messily and seeping out through his fingers on his stomach and soft patch of hair below his navel.

“Goddamn," he murmurs roughly, watching as your body quakes and trembles with pleasure. "Good girl, good girl," he praises with heavy grit in his voice, his hand slowing with every pulse of his cock.

The look on your face is one of pure bliss, of pleasure. He's absolutely enamored by it.

"Come here," he rumbles, reaching out for you. He pulls you to him effortlessly, placing you between his legs.

His skin is burning, his drive to show you how good you are, how good you did overpowering all logic. He grips the back of your neck, fiercely kissing you with fervour.

"Did so fucking good, angel."

You melt against him, ass perched in the air chest to chest and kissing him back. He grabs a handful of your hair, tilting your head to kiss you deeper and knead one of your ass cheeks.

"How'd you like that?" he rasps as he continues to kiss you, nipping softly along your jaw.

He can't stop his hands, they're roaming and touching you everywhere they can, pushing your tits up to sit in his palms, finger dimpling into your soft waist, his tongue licking into your empty maw.

"Believe me now? How perfect you are?"

You moan brokenly against his lips, and just like that he's hard again.

[lunamadhatter99]

All for the cameras

chapter 2

Finnick Odair x fem!reader

Here we go, part 2! Thank you, thank you, thank you all for the support with the first chapter!! I'm so glad that everyone liked it.

I hope you're going to like this second chapter too🤞 again if you're new and want to be tagged in the next chapter, comment here❤️❤️❤️

Chapter summary: It's time for the big event. And better keep our eyes open.

Chapter warning: none, except the usual mention of prostitution and usual Hunger Games stuff. Nothing too wild. We still won't see Finnick in this chapter, but I promise it's going to be worth it❤️

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@sisiking99

"Snow is watching us." Haymitch says, we're almost at the Capitol for the final interview and the big celebration.

"Of course, he is. He needs to watch everything. Especially the inconveniences," I scoff.

"Yeah. And if he wants you to pacify the districts, I promise you, he's not happy." Haymitch continues, "instead of being in love, you two sounds like you're reading from a drilling manual."

"You try reading that stuff that Effie writes us," Peeta mutters.

"Snow doesn't care." I tell him. "That's not how you want to convince him."

"I'm open to suggestions," he says back, tired.

"We could get married," Katniss quietly suggests, not looking up at anyone.

"That's not helping," Haymitch comments.

"I'm serious. If, like you said we're on this train forever, it's gonna happen eventually. Why not now?"

"It does make a statement. I'll give you that." Haymitch then looks at Peeta who agrees, but quickly stands up and leave. Katniss looks at me.

"It's something we can try, you're right... they would want it to happen eventually." I shrug.

"It's settle, then." Haymitch drinks to that and Katniss looks at me with hope.

---------------

"Are you sure you don't want to come to the party?" I ask Haymitch before I have to leave for Snow's residence. "Lots of free alcohol."

"I don't need free alcohol." He chuckles amused, "I'm a victor. I already got that."

"Don't you want to save a damsel in distress?" I try again.

"Our president seems very well guarded on his own," Haymitch jokes, "he's safe."

I genuinely laugh at that shaking my head.

"See? I need that! Please?" I try to beg just one more time.

"Don't send me that look, Princess." He turns his head away ready to walk away.

"Fine, fine... I tried." I raise my hands up in surrender. "Wish me luck, at least. "

"Maybe they'll leave you alone tonight, too interested in the two lovers," he sadly smiles at me, hoping, rather than believing, his own words to be true.

"Yeah, maybe," I take a deep breath, "well... have a goodnight, Haymitch."

"You too, princess." He winks, "and eyes open."

------------

The party is just as exaggerated as ever. Lots of people, lots of food and drinks and lots of lights.

I make my way through the crowd, towards the tables full of food and drinks, hoping to find something to make this evening more tolerable. I take a glass and take a sip, breathing deeply.

Some people come to talk to me, about the victors, thankfully.

"Two victors, exciting, uh?" One of the them says cheerfully.

"Very," I say with my usual forced smile.

"You must be proud, two victors on your turn on 12," a woman with very voluminous hair nudges me, "you were the talk of the town these past few days, you know?"

"Me?" I ask, surprised by that, usually everyone forgets about me during the victory tour.

"Oh yes, well beside the lovebirds." A green haired man chimes in.

"Why?" I start to get anxious, the necklaces feel a lot tighter than before.

"I heard a rumour... someone wants to put a ring on your finger," she whisper-exclaims with a wink.

"W-what?... I don't think... uh..." I stutter.

"C'mon, everyone knows you're Cal Kingslay's favourite." She teases, with a devilish smirk, "and it's rumored that he wants you all to himself."

"Isn't that wonderful?" The man cheers. "We could probably get two well awaited weddings this year!"

"I hope I didn't ruin the surprise." The woman adds, with, what I'm sure is, a fake apologetic smile.

"Of course not. Now would you excuse me, gotta wait for my Victors." I say turning around to walk as far as possible from them, I finish my drink in one go and soon take another glass. Thankfully it's announced the arrival of Katniss and Peeta.

I spot them walking through the crowd following Effie and heading to Flavius and Octavia so I quickly join them.

As they see me arrive they immediately smile, relieved.

"There you are," I say holding my hands out for them to hold, "I've missed you,"

All for the cameras.

"It's only been 30 minutes," Peeta plays along.

"And you can stay that long away from me?" I fake offence, "You wound me,"

Everyone around us laugh so I just decide to stick with them as long as I can.

Helping them play along is much easier than expected, especially with Peeta, Katniss is still a little uncertain, but I get her, it got me years and years to get used to the cameras.

After I unfortunately finish my fourth glass, I need another one, in order to survive this evening.

"Excuse me a second," I whisper at them and head to the other side of the room where I can get another glass of Whiskey.

I turn around to go back to Katniss and Peeta when I'm met with a firm chest.

Unfortunately I already know who this might be.

"Found you" Cal teases.

I look up at him, the blue in his hair is even stronger than I remembered, and a little longer too, he got bigger, more muscles for sure, eyes just as devilish.

"That you did," I try to mask my fear with a chuckle.

"I've missed you, you know, been looking everywhere for you since I got here," he says with a sweet tone, that only makes my skin crawl. He grabs my hand to play with my fingers.

"I've been here the whole time, chatting with the Victors you know," I take my hand back, "I should get back to them, exc-"

"They got you all this time," he stops me from walking away, "it's not the same without you."

"I..." I want to say something, but nothing comes out.

"I mean, it's fun and all with Finnick, but with you..." he lets out a big dreamy sigh, "with you it's so much better"

He says the last part leaning in, close enough to suffocate me.

"Excuse me?"

We both turn and see Peeta standing there.

"Peeta!" I say, both surprised and relieved, "Peeta, uh.. this is Cal Kingslay, his father was once the general himself"

"Nice to meet you, sir," Peeta extends his hand and Cal grabs it and shakes it.

"The pleasure is all mine, Mr Mellark," Cal greets him, he's tense though, he doesn't like being interrupted.

"Uh... Peeta, where's Katniss?" I ask to change the subject.

"She's dancing with the new Head Gamemaker," he explains simply, "but I still wanted to dance so I thought to ask you, if you're free."

"Oh, but of course," I say holding out my hand for him.

"But..." Cal starts.

"Oh, c'mon, he's our new victor, we can't say no to him, now can we?"

"Of course not," Cal says with a very evident forced smile.

That being said, me and Peeta go dance with the other people, I even spot Katniss with said New head Gamemaker.

"Thank you," I breathlessly say as we start dancing.

"You're welcome, you looked like you needed saving," he says with his kind smile, "who is he?"

"A fan" I simply say, "a very... uh... insisting one"

"I see," he nods.

"Thanks again, really."

"Don't worry about it." He laugh, "I mean, you helped saving me in that arena, this is nothing."

It's actually a lot more than he thinks.

I smile at him, grateful.

I then feel a slight tap on my shoulder, I turn around seeing Katnis and the Gamemaker.

"Mind changing partners?" He asks politely.

"Sure."

Me and Katniss exchange spots.

"It's an honour," he says once we're dancing.

"That honour would be the same if I knew your name sir," I tease.

"Oh, my bad, I apologise." He chuckles, amused, "I'm Plutarch Heavensbee,"

"Now the honour is mine," I say, "new head Gamemaker... when did they choose you?"

"Oh, I volunteer," he simply explains.

"Oh..." I let out a surprised laugh, "I see Katniss is already dictating fashion."

"Yeah, she's an inspiration, don't you think?" He says it almost as a challenge.

"I do," I answer seriously. "There must be more then... why volunteer?"

"I think it's time for the game to mean something," he shrugs and smiles.

"Mean something?" I wonder, "that's pretentious,"

"A little," he chuckles again, "so I'd keep those eyes open, if I were you."

My eyes snap back at his face, he's smiling, proud of himself.

Why? Does he know something? Does Haymitch know something?

Before I get the chance to ask him anything, the Capitol anthem starts and the crowd cheers.

"I'm sure we'll meet again," he says before following the rest of the people out for President Snow's speech.

I'm a little stunned, it's Effie's call that snaps me out of it. I quickly join her, Katniss and Peeta out.

We all gather in front of the residence, waiting for the President Snow to come out. I turn around looking for Cal, only to make sure he doesn't sneak up on me again. I see him looking around, for me probably, so I quickly turn around getting closer to Katniss.

At last the President comes out on his balcony.

"Tonight, on this, the last day of their tour, I want to welcome our two Victors." He starts with his usual charming persona, two young people who embody our idealsof strength and valor. And I, personally, want to congratulate them on the announcement of their engagement."

Everyone cheers. Peeta and Katniss smile at the crowd around them.

"Your love has inspired us. And I know it will go on inspiring us every day for as long as you may live." He holds up his glass and the fireworks start and I turn around to look at them like everyone.

I sense Katniss holding my hand and turning around. I want to look at Snow too, but the way she starts to squeeze my hand tells me all I need to know...

He doesn't believe them.

It didn't work.

---------------

I'm sitting in an armchair staring at nothing in particular. My mind can't help but think about whatever we can do to make their story more believable, but nothing, absolutely nothing comes up.

The riots in the districts surely won't make him happy, which means it will be worse for everyone else.

Fuck.

My head snaps back as I hear footsteps coming, I let out a sigh when I notice it's just Katniss.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," she apologises.

"Don't worry about it," I wave her off, "can't sleep either?"

She shakes her head, I motion for her to sit with me.

"Do you think we ever had any chance?" She then asks me.

"I guess, the positive side of me really hoped... but the realistic side knew." I sigh, looking down at my own hands, "I'm afraid it was too late from the beginning. And I don't mean from what happen in 11... I mean from the moment you took out the berries, that made the districts feel something, these riots all over the place won't be pacify by a love story. Snow knows that."

"He asked me to convince him," she explains, "to convince him ours is true love."

"He never believed you." I directly say, "not for a second."

"Why ask me that then?"

"Control." I simply answer looking up at her with a serious expression. "Show you he has control."

"How did you end up living like this?" She asks, she seems genuinely interested, but I'm not ready to share that part of my life with her just yet.

I smile at her, a smile that doesn't reach my eye.

"Aw... Katniss, I thought you knew the difference between living" I turn serious again, looking her dead in the eyes," and surviving."

With that I stand up, grab a bottle of what I think is rum, and head to my room.

-----------

I stand by the doors waiting for Peeta, Katniss and Haymitch to get off the train. The thought of going back to normal is dreadful enough, going back alone is even worse, I don't want to think about it.

"Home sweet home," Haymitch declares as he nears.

"Don't be so eager to leave me," I joke, holding my hand out for him to shake, he takes and kiss the back of it.

"You know, it pains me deeply," he teases back and I chuckle.

"Take care of them, will you?" I ask quietly.

"You take care of yourself, will you?" He lets go of my hand and leans down to whisper into my ear, "and eyes open" He smiles one more time before getting of the train.

"You'll have to explain that to me properly one of these days," I tell him as I watch him go.

"Isn't his whole character just... cryptic?" I turn around seeing Peeta and Katniss.

"Or just constantly drunk." Katniss chimes in.

"He's cryptically drunk all the time," I smile, "so... you got everything?"

"Yeah, we're ready to get home." Peeta smile back at me.

"Good... Good." I let out a deep sigh, "it's been a pleasure assisting you two. I guess I'll see you at the next Hunger Games, mentors."

"Thank you for everything, Y/n." Peeta pulls me in for a quick hug before walking away.

"Bye," I wave then turn to Katniss, "you okay?"

"Yeah... I think so." She forces a small smile.

"I wish I could do more," I tell her honestly.

"Thanks,"

"Say hi to your family for me, alright?" I smile again and she nods.

Once Katniss is out of sight a Peacekeeper comes up to me.

"Yes?" I ask.

"Your presence has been requested back in the Capitol. We'll be leaving soon." He tells me.

"May I know who requested it?" I ask, tired. I already imagine who-

"President Snow."

Uh?

"Did he say why?"

The peacekeeper doesn't answer and walks away. I stand here dumbfounded, wondering what he might want from me.

Is it because of Katniss and Peeta?

Is it because of the riots in the districts?

Is it because of the Quartel Quell? Does he wants me to be more participant or?

Then a terrifying thought comes to mind...

------------

"You asked for me, sir?" I stand in front of his desk as he write something down.

"It came to my attention a rumour's veen going around regarding you, miss L/n." He starts, still not looking directly at me, "a merry one."

"Sir?" I ask, my throat instantly dry.

"Cal Kingslay apparently wants to marry you," he finally puts down the pen and looks at me with, what might seem, a genuinely happy expression, "That's a wonderful news."

"Is it?" I don't know what he wants from me.

"Oh yes, the people can't help but be thrilled about. the idea. I, myself, think it's great news. After the contributions the Kingslays gave to the games in these last years, it will show, not only to the Capitol, but the districts as well, that you are an active part of this system." He explains, the hint of a challenge in his eyes. Challenge me to say no, to refuse.

I really want to, I want to scream at him and just run away. Being sold to all rich people in the Capitol is not the life I want, but being tied to him... permanently, it's more terrifying.

But I have no choice.

All I can do is swallow my pride and take a deep shaky breath.

"I... how... how will it happen, sir?" I ask.

"You two will get engaged once I announce the Third Quarter Quell and get properly married after the crowing of the Victor. He will ask, you will happily say yes." He explains, satisfied with my compliance, then he goes back at the papers in front of him, "That's all."

I don't need him to tell me twice, I immediately walk out of his office, ready to go home and just let everything out.

"Oh, before you go," Snow's voice freezes me on the spot, "Plutarch Heavensbee asked for your company, you will be escorted to his house immediately." He informs me.

I shakily nod and walk out of his office where two guards make way.

-----------

"Do you want some tea?" Plutarch motion for me to sit at a big wooden table, "perhaps something stronger?"

I nervously nod as I sit.

He walks away, I hear him talking to someone before walking back into the room I'm in with two drinks in hand. He offers one to me and sits by the opposite side of the table.

"I told the guards to come back in an hour, we should have enough time" he smiles and I nod again, still not sure of what to expect.

Suddenly the lights go off and the room falls into deep darkness. I can still make out his face due to the lights coming from outside.

"What...?" I ask.

"You can never feel safer," he tells me.

"What's going on, Mr Heavensbee?" I ask, anxiety growing at every passing second.

"Tell me, miss L/n," he starts, voice a little quieter than before, "what do you know about district 13?"

[smoooothoperator]

What Was I Made For?

12: This Is Us

childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers

Warnings: telling the family and friends

a/n: Hi people!!!! A little of drama is always good and needed!!!!! And the enemies are becoming lovers soon👀

if you want to play a game and ask things about Dafne

Masterlist

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If you want to be tagged don't forget to message me!

Every way of feedback is very welcomed

The feeling at the start of a roller coaster, as it begins its ascent, is often a mix of anticipation and nervousness. You hear the clicking of the track as the car climbs higher, and you feel your excitement and apprehension build with each click. There's a sense of suspense, knowing that the peak is approaching but not exactly sure when the drop will come.

As the car reaches the top, there's a brief moment of heightened anticipation as you take in the view and the inevitable drop becomes imminent. This is usually accompanied by a rush of adrenaline, your heart pounding faster, and a sense of weightlessness just before the plunge.

When the roller coaster finally tips over the edge and plummets down, there's an intense rush of exhilaration. The feeling of free fall can cause a mix of thrilling fear and pure excitement. The wind rushes past you, and you might feel a sensation of your stomach dropping. This combination of speed, gravity, and the unexpected twists and turns creates an overwhelming and electrifying experience that leaves you breathless and exhilarated.

That's how I felt when I saw the signal at the entry of Monaco and drove around the streets that led me to my mother's house. An uncertainty that made me feel tense the moment Dafne asked me to pull my hand away from her belly.

When I parked the car, my ears were ringing, and when she was less than a foot away from me as I helped her get out of the car, I nearly flinched.

Why am I feeling so anxious? I kept trying to breathe calmly during the trip, but it was as if I forgot how to do it.

I looked around, making sure no one saw us getting out of the car, ensuring that no one had their cameras recording us to expose us. I knew she was walking behind me; I would recognize her footsteps even if I were blind.

I grabbed the keys from the pocket of my jeans, taking a deep breath as I felt my hand shaking. Why is it shaking?

When I saw my mother's face, I could see the surprise when she saw Dafne next to me. As she walked toward her to hug her, to hold her tight, I knew the fall of the roller coaster had started, making me clench my jaw and look away.

"Eh… We have something to tell you, maman," I sighed, walking toward them and placing my hand on Dafne's lower back.

"I think I know what it is," she smiled, holding Dafne's hands. "How far along are you, love?"

I felt her flinch, not only when I touched her back but also when my mom asked her that. I sighed, rubbing my thumb on her back and pulling my hand away, swallowing thickly.

"We have to talk, mom," I sighed.

She smiled weakly and nodded, walking toward the living room with Dafne and me following her. She sat on the individual couch, making us sit next to her on the bigger one. I tried not to sit too close to Dafne, not wanting to disturb her.

"I'm four months," Dafne mumbled, not daring to look at my mom.

"Four months…" she sighed and looked at me.

She knows. Of course, she knows. The morning after that party, she was the first to reprimand me, to show how disappointed she was with me.

"I guess it's Charles', am I wrong?" she sighed.

"Pascale, we…" Dafne mumbled, but I stopped her, placing my hand on her knee.

"It was an accident," I said. "But it made us open our eyes and talk things over."

I saw my mom's eyes looking at me and then at her, then again at me and then at her. She was judging us, probably feeling even more disappointed for something as irresponsible as this.

"I hope this accident, as you call it, makes you two act like adults and finally stop fighting like kids," she nodded, taking a deep breath and crossing her legs. "Does your family know?"

Dafne nodded, looking down at her lap and taking a deep breath. She started playing with the ring she wears on her pinky finger, the one with a little red stone.

"They found out the same day I did," she sighed. "It was in Abu Dhabi, after my crash. The doctor told me there that I was pregnant… At first, they didn't take it very well."

I looked at her, surprised, squeezing her knee softly. She never told me that. Her parents always supported her in everything, and until now, I never realized how hard it must have been for her.

"B-but they took it well after some days," she mumbled. "My sisters are a big support for me, and… Charles is too. He has been helping me a little lately."

"That's good to hear," my mom nodded, taking a deep breath.

She stayed silent for a few seconds, and it felt like the longest seconds ever. I bit my lip, looking at her, watching her mind working, looking at us again and again.

"I guess I'll have to say that I'm glad you two fixed things," she said. "And I hope this stays like this, you two together. We all wanted it since you were kids."

"Mom-" I sighed but stopped when she raised her hand, shaking her head.

"You have no idea how bad it was for everyone watching you fight," she said. "How uncomfortable you made us feel with your immaturity. You two were friends the first time you met, and after that, it was like both of you were the plague for each other."

We stayed quiet while she scolded us, making us remember all the times they had to pull us away because we fought on tracks and during family holidays. But when she stopped talking, we looked at her, watching how she slowly started smiling.

"Your dad would be so happy you two are finally at peace," she said, and somehow, that made my heart break.

My dad. Until now, I only focused on Dafne’s health, on how she felt, and on how to fix things between us. And I never stopped to think about my dad, about how he would feel.

I felt Dafne's hand on top of mine, rubbing her thumb softly on my knuckles. And it made me flinch, looking at her, surprised. She had a sad smile on her lips, her blue eyes looking at me like she wanted to show me support.

"We will make him proud," she said for me, looking at my mom. "We are adults, and we are going to be parents. This might have been an accident, but… Yesterday, we felt the kicks for the first time, and it was so magical, Pascale… Knowing that I have a kid with him, that a little tiny baby is in my womb, just obligates me to forget the past and start again."

I looked at her, feeling how my hand just turned and held hers. And feeling that she didn't pull away made my heart beat even faster.

"I hope you two can see how you truly feel," my mom sighed. "But… I'm happy for you two, really. I'm happy you two finally stopped this war."

I felt Dafne let out a long sigh of relief when my mom got up and walked toward us. We got up too, standing next to each other and then feeling her wrapping her arms around us, hugging us both at the same time.

"I never thought you two would be the first ones to make me a grandma," she chuckled softly. "I'm so happy, really."

Telling my brothers was less tense. They were smiling the whole time when they saw us walk in together, me holding her hand as we entered Lorenzo's apartment.

I could feel her tiredness, how she yawned and blinked slowly whenever there was a comfortable silence between us, and how she fought the long yawns.

“Do you want to go to my apartment to rest?” I whispered in her ear, leaning closer than ever without her trying to kill me.

“No, no…” she sighed. “I'm okay.”

“You sure?” I asked. “What if I text my friends and tell them to meet up tomorrow? It was a long day, and you and the baby need to rest.”

“I can do this, Charles,” she groaned.

I sighed and nodded, resting my back on the couch in my older brother's apartment and looking around, watching as my brother returned with a tray of drinks.

“Are you going to meet up with your friends?” Lorenzo asked, making me nod and sigh.

“Yeah… It’s not fair if they find out about this through the media,” I sighed, looking at Dafne.

“And what are you going to tell them?” he asked.

“The same thing we’re going to tell everyone,” Dafne said, grabbing her tea and blowing on it to cool it down. “That after that day in Monza, we talked things out and forgot each other, and somehow we found a connection that turned into a romance. That’s what everyone wants to hear.”

“And do you think they will believe it?” Arthur frowned. “You were seen with Sebastian.”

“Forbidden lovers,” Dafne said, shrugging her shoulders. “And now that I can’t race anymore, we can do whatever we want.”

“Does Sebastian know about it?” Arthur asked, making Dafne bite her lip and look away.

“We were only having fun,” she mumbled. “I have more important things to do now. He was just… someone I had fun with.”

I could feel the pain and regret in her words, making me reach for her hand and hold it for a few seconds before she pulled it away.

“Are you sure you can’t race again?” Arthur asked weakly.

“I… I don’t know,” she sighed. “I don’t think anyone would want me again. Once my pregnancy is announced, they will immediately close every door for me. And I’ll have a baby to take care of; I can’t risk it.”

“But it’s your dream,” I sighed.

“It is, yeah,” she said, clenching her jaw. “But…”

“But I ruined it, I get it,” I nodded.

She nodded slowly and looked down at her lap. She will still blame me for this, and I deserve it for everything bad I did.

My brothers smiled weakly and looked at us, somehow understanding everything but not saying a word about it.

“Anyway!” Dafne exclaimed, clapping her hands, making me jump in my seat. “Where are we going to meet your friends? In a fancy restaurant? I hope you pay for me; I’m really craving something fancy.”

“For you? I would order the entire menu if you asked me,” I chuckled softly.

“Oh, then get your card ready; I’m really hungry,” she said, getting up slowly.

I laughed softly, getting up and following her to the apartment entrance, turning around when my brothers came to hug us.

Dafne and I walked back towards my car, and once we were inside, she let out a long sigh, rubbing her temples.

“I think a fancy restaurant won’t be the best if I go like this…” she sighed, looking at her clothes.

“What’s wrong with it?” I frowned.

“Come on, this is Monaco. The least you have to do is be well-dressed to walk around the streets,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. “And going to a restaurant wearing a pair of jeans that I can’t button and a hoodie that’s too big…”

“You look absolutely beautiful, Dafne,” I sighed. “And my hoodie looks good on you, so stop complaining.”

She sighed and looked out the window, biting her lip.

“It won’t be a long dinner, right?” she whispered. “I just want to sleep.”

“As soon as you finish your plate, we are leaving, okay?” I smiled, placing my hand automatically on her belly.

She was anxious and nervous; everyone could sense it. The moment I parked the car, we stayed inside for a few seconds, knowing that if we walked out together, people would see us. But that's what we planned, that's what we wanted: people seeing us together to make our announcement more credible.

“Are you ready?” I whispered, looking at her.

She nodded slowly, biting her lip before looking at me. I nodded and got out before her, walking to her door to open it and help her out. She stood in front of me, looking into my eyes with panic in hers, and the only thing I could do to keep her calm was squeeze her hand.

“It will be okay,” I whispered, trying to sound confident.

I started walking towards the entry of the restaurant, still holding her hand and ignoring whoever took pictures of us, only focusing on the touch of her hand and the door in front of me.

When I spotted my friends, I sighed and walked towards them, watching their faces shifting from surprise to curiosity.

“Hey,” I smiled weakly, standing next to Dafne. “So…”

“I knew it!” Joris exclaimed. “I knew you were going to make a move!”

“What?” I frowned.

“Come on, I caught you so many times staring at her, even buying her favorite things on your phone,” he laughed, making me blush and look at Dafne.

“Y-yeah, well… But we have some news…” I smiled weakly.

“We are pregnant,” Dafne declared, her smile surprisingly genuine. “He made his move a long time ago.”

I smiled weakly and looked at her, wrapping my arm around her waist to keep her close.

“No way,” my friends gasped, making me scan their faces one by one. Some were surprised, others not. Some didn’t believe it. And I guess it's fine, because that's what we will face once we announce it: hate and love, support and criticism.

“Let's celebrate, then,” Joris smiled.

I took a deep breath and smiled, squeezing Dafne's hand and moving the chair for her before she sat.

“Order whatever you want,” I whispered, close to her, with my hand on her knee.

“Oh, I will,” she smirked, looking at me. “You will regret it.”

“I won't,” I smiled.

I wished she would let me kiss her, even if it was just on the cheek.

During the dinner, I tried to make her feel comfortable, talking with her and then with my friends, including her in the conversations. I know she's not a big fan of making new friends or opening up to strangers, but it would be best for her and for us. We need my friends to feel supportive because they would be the ones, besides our families, who would be there for us if we needed them.

But somehow, this wasn't going how we wanted. Instead of receiving congratulations, we only received questions.

“What do you think it will be?” Martha asked, her gaze fixed on Dafne. “When I was pregnant with my daughter, I immediately knew what she was. Call it maternal instinct.”

“I… Well, we…” she mumbled, looking at me. “We want a girl. I just… I don't have the instinct yet, I guess… This wasn't planned, I'm not ready for that.”

“Oh, that's so bad,” she smiled. “You didn’t want the baby? Was it an accident? Let me guess, you were tired of watching him with someone, so you decided to bring him to your bed? And then you got pregnant!”

The table fell into an uneasy silence. Eyes darted between Martha and Dafne, tension crackling in the air as Martha’s questions grew sharper and more invasive.

“Martha,” I frowned, looking at her.

“Come on, what's wrong with admitting it?” she smiled innocently. “Every girl you brought to the races was bullied by her, and then suddenly you stopped dating girls? That's why? Because you finally got what you wanted. But wait… You were bringing that dude… Sebastian, right? Does he know about this thing going on? Or are you fucking Charles behind his back?”

I felt Dafne tense next to me, looking down at her lap and taking deep breaths.

“Enough,” I frowned.

“Why? Come on, Charles,” she laughed. “We all saw you two fight for many years, and let's not forget about that statement she made and the lawsuit. Do you think we are stupid enough to believe you two are really together?”

“Enough!” Dafne said this time, standing up and grabbing her glass of water, spilling it on Martha's face. “What I do with my life is none of your business. We came here to share our news out of respect for Charles’s friendships. I don’t know any of you, and I certainly don’t owe you any explanation.”

I looked at her, surprised. I never imagined she would talk like this, nor defend me like this. Dafne's sudden support at the dinner made my heart swell with a strange mix of gratitude and hope. Maybe, just maybe, we could find a way back to each other.

“Charles and I have a long history that none of you know about,” she said. “So you don't have any right to judge me and my decisions.”

I took a deep breath, feeling her trembling hand on my shoulder, squeezing it softly.

“I want to leave,” she mumbled. “I'm tired.”

“Sure,” I nodded, standing up and looking at my friends, leaving the napkin on the table and looking at Martha. “Thanks for ruining this. At least now you know before the media.”

I clenched my jaw and walked behind Dafne, taking deep breaths and ignoring some of my friends arguing amongst themselves.

“Look, what happened there…” I sighed once I was in front of her.

“It's okay,” she sighed. “It's okay. Really. I just want to sleep and forget about today.”

“Yeah… Sure,” I sighed, opening the door of the car for her.

I drove to my apartment and sighed. We decided we would spend the night here and go back to her village house in the morning after resting and getting back our energy.

The drive to the apartment was steeped in uncomfortable silence. The day had spiraled far from what we had hoped, leaving a bitter taste of disappointment.

“It's okay,” she whispered. “We only need our family. Now that they know, there's nothing else to worry about.”

“Y-yeah, I guess,” I sighed. “It's… I wish they took it better. I didn't expect her to act like that.”

“They're just shocked,” she mumbled. “But they don't know our story. They don't know about us. They can think what they want; only we know the truth.”

The truth.

“The truth is that we took everything too far,” I whispered.

“But now we have something that will make us fix our mistakes,” she said, looking at me once I parked the car.

I nodded and smiled weakly, opening the door and walking with her towards the elevator, sighing and leaning on the metal wall. She stood next to me, still keeping a distance, but at least not moving when I held her hand in silence.

“You can use the bed, okay?” I sighed, opening the door with my keys. “I don't have another bed because I use the spare room for the sim.”

“No, Charles,” she frowned. “You'll drive tomorrow; you need to rest.”

“Dafne, please,” I sighed.

“Then sleep in the bed too,” she said, shrugging her shoulders and looking at me. “We'll put up a pillow wall. Just… Rest.”

“Sure… A pillow wall,” I sighed.

I walked to my bedroom, sighing with relief when I found it not too messy. I walked to the wardrobe and grabbed one of my shirts, giving it to her.

“You can get changed here; I'll go to the bathroom,” I said, grabbing my own sleeping clothes.

“Okay,” she whispered.

I walked to the bathroom and locked the door behind me, leaning against it. There's no way we are going to sleep in the same bed. No. And there's no way she was the one who suggested it.

When I got out of the bathroom after she said she was ready, I never expected to find her there, standing in the middle of the room, looking at her reflection in the mirror, one hand on her belly and the other on her back.

“Wow,” I said, breathless.

Never in my life have I imagined that picture: Dafne standing in my room, wearing one of my shirts with a pregnant belly.

My feet led me towards her, standing behind her, watching myself in the reflection. I tried my luck and placed my hand on her waist, and when I felt she wasn't pushing me away, I took a step closer to press my chest to her back, wrapping my arms around her and placing my hands on her belly.

“Yesterday, Soleil said something that made me think about us,” she whispered, leaning against me and fixing her eyes on my hands.

“What was it?” I whispered.

“That our story didn't end in Greece,” she said. “That we were meant to be together. That's why there was a force that pushed me to the karts, that made me follow every step you made, only to put me as your teammate.”

“And you think she's right?” I whispered, somehow understanding what she was saying. Because that was true.

“Why do you think I'm letting you touch me?” she whispered. “Why do you think I'm not pushing you away anymore? I'm tired of fighting, Charles. Really. I want to believe our story was only on hiatus. That we are meant to be together.”

“We can rewrite the stars, Dafne” I whispered, looking at her through the mirror. “Our story is this. This is us: a pair of idiots that are going to have a baby.”

“Yeah” she nodded, resting her head on my shoulder. “This is us”

taglist

@racinggirl @elisysd @alltoomaples @ssprayberrythings @rach3164 @yvonne-dump @deliciousfestsalad @janeh22 @hc-dutch @ninifee1802 @kakorrhaphiphobia @ssararuffoni @itsjustkhaos @scaramou @tapedeck-hearts @apollosfavkiddo @sltwins @glitterquadricorn @ladystardust05 @theseerbetweenus @vizzzashley @auawdo @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @leptitlu @green-thots @caterinemirandax_ @mid5nights

[endless-weightless]

Random nameless ghoul headcanons (SFW and NSFW)

I'm taking the piss with all of these. And remember, kids, this is fanfiction!

I mostly just wrote about the current ghouls but I'm more than happy to write about any past ghouls if you guys want!

TAGS/WARNINGS: mating cycles, CNC, weed mention, primal play, polyamory and orgies,

SFW✄

All of the ghouls have a specific scent but Mountain for some reason can emit any particular scent so long as it's earth related. He usually smells like pine trees and grass but if any of the ghouls are anxious leading up to rituals or just worried in general he'll make himself smell like lavender because he knows how calming it is.

Mountain is also victim to clothing robbery because he smells so nice and is SO DAMN TALL.

They're some of the most open-minded and accepting people you'll ever meet.

Full moons tend to have a weird effect on the ghouls. Not as bad as say a werewolf but they definitely become a bit more... feral. The less extreme effects would just be heightened senses and craving gamey meats more while the worst of the worst would be bordering violent and definitely nsfw (see nsfw for more on this). They'd probably call it a hunter's moon (badum tss).

All of their eyes glow very faintly in the dark.

Their pupils are like a mix of feline and just regular ol' human.

They all have claws but Aurora and Sunshine are the only ones who actually have them out because everyone else needs short nails to play their instruments.

They all purr when they're happy or they're experiencing physical affection, though the volume and intensity varies depending on the ghoul.

Mountain sleeps like a log unless he's sharing a bed, then he's everyone's teddy bear and always has an arm around someone whether he agreed to it or not.

Rain absolutely HATES throwing up.

Swiss and Sodo convinced Mountain to grow marijuana by letting him try some. The ghoul den now constantly smells faintly of weed.

All of the ghouls have their own bedrooms but prefer to cuddle with each other and usually just make a nest out of blankets and pillows in the main common room area and turn it into one giant bed for everyone.

Cirrus and Aether tend to take on an almost parental role in the group just to keep the newer ghouls in line which can be draining at times but rewarding in the end.

They all have black tails and horns that are pretty much identical with the only difference being everyone has a slight tint to theirs depending on their element (Sodo's are red, Rain's are blue, Phantom and Aether's are purple etc).

Their fangs aren't actually too sharp. Could be because they've just become blunter over time with less need to bite actual people.

Most of them straight up act like cats depending on how new they are to the mortal plane. Since Omega’s been on earth the longest, he acts more closely to a human than Phantom, who is fresh out of hell.

Zephyr gets really bad chronic leg pains which is why he's always sitting while performing and so quick to sit back down after finishing the Mummy Dust solo.

Aurora has super painful cramps leading up to her heat so Sodo has taken it upon himself to use his hands as a heating pad for her (which he will do for anyone in need of a heat pack).

NSFW✄

If you had to make a spectrum of all the ghouls from most submissive to most dominant, it'd be Sunshine, Phantom, Rain, Cumulus, Swiss (ultimate power switch), Aurora, Ifrit, Sodo, Mountain, Zephyr, Cirrus, Aether, Alpha and finally Omega.

None of them are strictly doms or subs, they like experimenting and switching things up every once in a while to keep things interesting but they certainly have preferences.

They all enjoy both monogamous and polyamorous sex equally. Sometimes they just want soft intimate sex with one person or they're just craving multiple people.

Full moons don't make everyone horny in an "I need to impregnate someone/be impregnated now" way, they make the ghouls horny in a primal way...

Some of the ghouls that are more affected by the full moon or just enjoy primal play with a bit of CNC will sometimes ask some of the siblings of sin and/or you if you'd all be comfortable with letting them "hunt" you down.

Aether and Cirrus have sleepy and lazy sex when they're tired from dealing with the ghouls and need a break and some relief.

Mountain is always looking down the sisters of sin's and the ghoulette's tops to see their cleavage. In his defence he's pretty fucking tall and can't help that he has to look down to talk to people.

If anyone in the group, including you, are feeling lonely, stressed or just exhausted and in need of some kind of relief, all of the ghouls are more than willing to give head to anyone for hours, making sure they cum at least four times before they let them have a break.

All of them have a marking kink because of their need to mate during heats and ruts.

They all go just a teensy bit feral when they pick up on the scent of a virgin with Swiss being the most dramatic about it.

And if someone doesn't smell like a virgin but instead like ghoul, they still go feral because ghouls like sharing when the moon isn't full.

Aether feels the constant need to slap every ghoul and ghoulettes ass possible, even Sodo.

Aurora, Zephyr and Phantom the most handsy out of the ghouls.

Heats and ruts are already hellish enough, but what makes it worse for the ministry is how only half of the ghouls get their heats and ruts at the same time while the other get it the other half of the time, which basically means twice as many heats and ruts in a month.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

that's all my lovelies, lmk if you want any more!

[mirouie]

miles morales headcanons please with a reader who has anxiety and has panic attacks ?

୨ৎ 'don't you worry your pretty little head over it, dear!'

miles morales x anxious!gn!reader | wc: 0.8k

↳ warnings: mentions of anxiety, mentions of panic attacks, one mention of throwing up and lice(?)

↳ tags: fluff, slight hurt/comfort, soft miles, caring miles, established relationship

↳ a/n: hi, thank you so much for requesting! i based most of these off of my anxiety and the kind of attacks i have and i'm well aware that not everyone experiences the same thing, so i'm sorry if it's not what you had in mind, but thank you for requesting anyway! i hope you enjoy this one! <3

— first and foremost, miles is gentle. so, so gentle it makes your heart ache and make you feel warm all over.

miles is the type of person with whom you just feel so comfortable with. his presence is light, easygoing, and it makes him trustworthy.

earlier on in your relationship, you tell him about your anxiety. something you’d usually avoid when stepping into new, more intimate territory with your friends, but miles is just that person. it doesn’t feel burdensome when you tell him; in fact, it makes you feel almost relieved.

he’s nothing short of kind and caring when he knows. he’s genuine in all of the gentle questions he asks you, making notes upon notes mentally in order to prepare himself for future bouts. when he’s alone, he does more research into the things you feel and think about, their possible causes, specific symptoms, making it his personal mission to know every single remedy for every single situation (it’s neither possible nor impossible, per se, but leave it up to miles to find ways).

— he’s always got an eye out for any sign that you’re feeling anxious. he knows you down to the bare bones, so he’s always aware of the way you fiddle with your fingers and pick at your nails, or the little twitch of your neck or the shivers that run down your back. he knows by a sharp glance thrown his way that you need to step out for a bit to calm down, or by a squeeze on his forearm that you’re feeling that uneasy swelling in your chest and you need him to distract you. all your signals and mannerisms, no matter how big or small, he knows them all and is always ready to rush to your aid.

— the first time you have a panic attack in miles's presence, it's a bit of a mess, if you're being honest. despite everything he's done in order to prepare himself for times like these—all the research and the self-pep talks in the mirror, all kinda thrown out the window. not everything, but he does panic on his own a little when he sees you running short of breath and dissociating. he pulls through, though, because of course he does. he's miles, and he's your boyfriend. he'd do anything for you.

he speaks in such a kindly manner, voice low and smooth as he asks questions gently and murmurs sweet encouragements to you. he gives you your space at first, a hand rubbing your back and gauging your reaction. when your eyes flit over to his with a look he knows all too well, he's by your side in an instant and scooping you up into a bone-crushing hug (he never wants to squeeze you that hard, but when you told him that the pressure relieves your anxiety a ton, he's never stopped doing it since).

— as time goes by, miles gets amazing at handling your attacks. what used to be hours of hyperventilating and crying and trying everything to get yourself to calm down becomes short-lasting whenever miles is around. he always knows exactly what to say to comfort you, and usually that paired with loving hugs and a plethora of kisses is enough to calm you down. he'll bring you to a more secluded place and sit with you until you're feeling better (classes and spider-man duties be damned) because he knows you don't like it when people see you. he'll come up with excuses to get you out of something if need be, and they're always the strangest you've ever heard.

"...and so i said to mrs. miller, 'they're down with a bad, bad flu that'll make you throw up every five minutes and give you lice.' you should've seen the look on her face, it was hilarious," miles's absurd excuse almost makes you stop crying.

"w-what?" you sniffle. "that's not very believable, miles."

"i know! i don't know how she let me go with that one, honestly," still, he turns to you and smiles wide, his hand stroking your back coming to squeeze your shoulder. "s'okay, at least we have the rest of third period free now. maybe even fourth if she tells our next teacher about it."

— once you've come down from your attacks, miles is doting to another level. you tell him that it's not necessary, but he goes all out. he's got everything you could possibly need—snacks of all sorts piled up high, water, sodas, candies, chocolates, skincare if you want them. he'll dump you onto his sofa, practically swimming in the biggest and fluffiest blanket he could find in the house, your favorite movie playing on the tv. he's got everything laid out within arm's reach, and once that's that, he'll do the most important thing of them all—flop on top of you and engulf you. the rest of the day is spent cuddling, hugging, kissing, watching countless movies, stuffing yourselves with junk food, and more kissing.

— all in all, miles adores you. he adores you to the point he'll take care of you when and wherever, and it doesn't matter to him if you're anxious all the time. he loves you all the same and will kiss your anxiety away. ♡

© mirouie ; do not copy, edit, or repost my works. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[void-occupation]

Some Lee!Alastor Headcanons to Fuel My Brain

The lee!alastor tag has been painfully empty for the last few days, so I've decided to contribute a few headcanons of mine for you all to see and consider as you wish. Feel free to add on to this post with headcanons/rants/fics/whatever of your own if you want, I was just personally experiencing withdrawal symptoms and needed to fuel my addiction lol

(These are tickle headcanons for those unfamiliar with the terminology. If that isn't your thing, just scroll right on by)

First thing's first. Something I think everyone is sleeping on? Scalp massagers. Specifically the wire ones. I personally think those things are ticklish as fuck, and I'm far from the only one. The majority of us have come to the agreement that Alastor's ears are also ticklish as fuck. Just take a moment with me and imagine the potential:

Someone (probably Angel, or Lucifer) gets a scalp massager and is going around trying it on other hotel residents when they aren't paying attention. It's just for fun, and they're getting the typical reactions (jumping away, super startled, or just completely Unphased). Then, they manage to catch Alastor by surprise and do it to him, but instead of the typical reaction, Alastor startles before bursting out into staticky giggles. Alastor has no clue WHY it tickles so much, but it does, and he's practically paralyzed in a weird half-curled position as whoever has the massager just keeps running it over is head over and over. He can't try to escape, he can only giggle and babble out nonsense words, especially when the ends rub up against his ears which only makes it MORE ticklish, which he didn't think was possible. After the other demon shows mercy (and somehow isn't immediately slaughtered) Alastor develops a healthy fear of the massager, and grows incredibly anxious with anticipation and adorably flustered any time someone brings one out

Speaking of massagers brings me to my second headcanon. This man CANNOT get a massage or he will absolutely die. People who are tense can be more ticklish as a result, and since Alastor is already incredibly ticklish, having tense muscles makes this 100x worse. I have really tense shoulders, and any massage there immediately makes me hysterical, and I imagine Alastor would be the same. If he was comfortable enough to do so, he would be the kind of person to absolutely die if he were to get a full-body massage because it would tickle so damn much - even through the pain that comes with massages. Rosie likes to pretend to massage his shoulders and neck just so she can tell him to stop squirming and giggling so much because she's trying to help him

Another quick headcanon. I like to imagine that he's mostly covered in fur, and while it isn't terribly long in most places, it can still get tangled after a shower, or after being smothered by his clothes all day, so he has to brush it regularly. This is an absolute nightmare for him. Even when he's brushing his own fur, he has to stop every few seconds because he starts laughing too much in certain areas, like over his sides or belly for example. No matter how often he does it, he never gets used to the feeling, and it only gets worse if someone else (usually Rosie) does it for him. At least if he does it himself, he can stop once he starts laughing. It makes it take a long time, but it's less flustering. If Rosie (or Satan forbid someone else for whatever reason) brushes his fur, she usually tries to get a much done at once as she can, so she usually keeps going until he's begging for a break. Also, she thinks it's absolutely adorable, so she'll keep brushing areas that make him squeal long after all the tangles have been removed

Last one for now is that he can feel the static from people's phones. If he's close to someone when their phone rings, he can usually feel the static of it crawling teasingly over his skin. It usually isn't a big deal, but if someone is being bombarded by calls that they keep ignoring (let's say Valentino obsessively calling Angel Dust), the static quickly becomes overwhelming and he'll beg the person to answer their phone or turn it off, if straight up bashing it against the nearest wall isn't an option. It doesn't tickle a particular area, more of an all-encompassing tickle over his entire body. If he gets to the point of begging them to answer, it's usually because he can't hold his laughter and squirming anymore and is trying not to make a fool of himself. He feigns annoyance so people don't find out the real reason he wants the calls to stop. The secret comes out when Angel absolutely refused to answer Valentino one day, but didn't want to turn off his phone because he was in the middle of doing something on it, and Alastor finally broke and curled up where he sat, giggling hysterically and begging Angel to turn his phone off

That's all I have for now, I hope you enjoyed these headcanons. If you decide you like them enough to incorporate them into anything you write/draw, tag me!!! I'd move to see it. Also, as mentioned earlier, feel free to add onto this as you wish, I'd love to see how you all make these headcanons your own