#but just know if i do i will be hitting up your inbox to double check things

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl. Chapter Two.

Previous Chapter. Next Chapter. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Pairing - Dad's Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Chapter Synopsis - You and Bucky try to navigate what it means to be soulmates - and how difficult it is to keep your hands off each other.

Warnings - smut. cursing.

Word Count - 4k

Author's Note - part two!! thank you SO much for all of the love on part one - it has made me immensely happy. you're all the sweetest and i'm so grateful. i'm going on vacation in a few days, so i'm taking a hiatus for a few weeks as i won't have cell service. so, consider this my parting gift to you <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3 please, send me your thoughts, predictions, desires!! I will get excited with you!!

Masterlist. Inbox.

Sunlight streams through the billowing white curtains, rousing you slowly. The gentle breeze cools the room, salt sticking to the air. Warmth is seeping into the glass of the windows, encouraging you to kick your sheets to the foot of your bed, limbs stretching and rolling.

You wake, and for a moment, you feel perfectly at peace. You feel light, tranquil, relaxed. You flex your neck from side to side, yawning as you do it. You notice that the sun is already up, beaming into your bedroom. It's going to be a very warm day, you think. I better pack sunblock.

You glance to where your bag is thrown haphazardly on the floor, contents spilling everywhere. It's unlike you, to not put something away properly. You take pride in being a tidy person. You must have been exhausted when you got home last night.

That's when it hits you.

Bucky.

The events of yesterday coming crashing down around you like a tidal wave. Hearts racing, hands interlacing, lips melding. Bodies tangling, breaths matching, knees buckling. Two souls, tied together forever.

Your Tethering.

To Bucky. Your Dad's best friend Bucky.

His absence is suddenly all you can think about. He's not here, and you feel like half of your heart is missing. You ache. There's a discomfort that you know can only be cured by the presence of your soulmate.

You're deep in thought when your phone rings, startling you. It's Bucky.

"Mornin' sugar," he drawls. The low tone of his voice is like molten honey, gorgeous and golden.

"Good morning, Buck."

You hear him exhale at the sound of your voice.

"I know we said we'd meet at ten, but can we make it earlier?" he asks. Then, quieter, "Feel like I can't breathe without you."

He murmurs the last part, as if it's a secret. Something sacred.

"Of course, Buck. I can be ready by nine?"

"Thanks, sweet girl. I'll pick you up?"

"Perfect. See you then."

"See you then."

It's almost painful to hang up the phone. It's like there's a gravitational force in The Universe, willing you against it. You ignore it defiantly and press the red button, swinging your legs over the side of the bed.

There's something in your gut telling you that this might just be the first day of the rest of your life. You certainly can't go back to the way things were. You're not sure if you want to.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Bucky arrives at 8:45.

You're in the bathroom with the door closed, so you don't hear him pull up. You feel it. Like a magnetism, alerting you to his whereabouts. You breathe a little easier immediately, knowing he's outside.

You grab your bag and the picnic and pull on your shoes, eager to see him. You feel like a teenager again, giddy with anticipation. Apart from, this isn't your average first date. No, this is your last first date ever. This is a first date with the man you're bound to spend the rest of your life with. No pressure, you tell yourself. One step at a time.

Your heart kicks up in double time, thundering against your ribcage. You inhale deeply, cracking your knuckles. You can do this. It's just Bucky.

You bound down your stairs, practically running to his truck. Bucky's leaning against the passenger door, the wind ruffling his hair, sunlight reflecting off his steely blue eyes. He's wearing shorts and a white button up, which is blowing gently in the breeze. His sleeves are pushed up his forearms, exposing his gorgeous tanned skin. He has several shirt buttons undone, accentuating his broad chest, sunglasses tucked into the breast pocket. He looks so handsome. So classically elegant. Like he belongs in an old movie - a perfect leading man.

He eyes you carefully, gauging your reaction. You can tell he doesn't want to overstep, worried about pushing you too far too fast. You walk over and run your fingers across his exposed chest gently, tracing a path up his neck until you're caressing his cheek. His stubble tickles your fingertips, causing a smile to curl at the corners of your mouth. You finally meet his gaze, and all your stress is forgotten. You feel peaceful again.

"Hi," you whisper.

"Hi, pretty girl," he murmurs back, hands finding your waist. "You alright?"

"I'm okay. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," he grins. "So, how do you feel about a day of sailing? You, me, and the ocean, baby."

"I think that sounds perfect."

He opens the car door for you, helping you up and into the passenger seat. He climbs in, clicking on his seat belt and starting the engine. Before he pulls away, he turns and looks at you, holding your stare for a moment. Bucky reaches for you, lacing your fingers together, resting your intertwined hands on your thigh. He begins to drive away, taking you towards the ocean. Towards your future.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You know nothing about sailing.

Luckily, you don't need to. Bucky's quite content to keep you sitting pretty on the top deck while he does all of the work, pulling and tying and knotting. The crisp white sails billow in the wind, the ocean waves providing a steady, constant soundtrack. Birds fly overhead, sunshine beaming down, the wood underneath you warm and smooth. It's paradise.

You're soaking up the sun rays when you hear a click. You sit up to see Bucky holding his film camera, pointed right at you.

"Creep," you tease.

"Just want to have something to look back on. Our first day as soulmates. It's an occasion, you know," he grins.

He moves across the boat to sit next to you, thigh pressed up against yours. He's so close you can taste the spearmint on his breath. You tangle a hand in his hair, caressing the back of his head.

"I brought you a few new things to try," you tell him. "Some recipes I'm testing. I want your honest opinion. No sugar coating. Promise?"

"I promise," he winks, holding up a scouts honour. "I wouldn't lie to you, honey."

You reach over and grab your picnic basket, unwrapping various beeswax packages and laying them out in front of you.

"Okay - we have white chocolate and pistachio muffins, raspberry and lemon macarons, earl grey and lavender cookies and carrot and cinnamon cake."

You glance over at Bucky, expecting him to be deciding what to try first. Instead, you find him watching you carefully, gentle smile etched across his face.

"What?" you laugh.

"Nothing," he beams. "I just... I love it when you start talking about food. You're passionate. You light up."

"Don't make it weird," you joke, slightly taken aback by his honesty. He did promise not to sugar coat.

He reaches for a macaron, eager to try one after you mentioned them yesterday. He pops one in his mouth, and lets out a groan that can only be described as pornographic.

"Fuck," he moans. "This might be the best thing I've ever eaten."

"You promised you wouldn't lie," you laugh.

"I'm not," he chuckles, placing his hand over his heart. "I swear to you. These things should be used as medicine. They'd cure anything."

"Shut up," you tease bashfully, bumping your shoulder into his.

He tries the other sweets one by one, complimenting you immensely. He's so specific in the way he commends your baking. He comments on certain flavours, and textures, and the way everything melts on his tongue. He really takes the time to think about what he says. It's so intimate.

"You're gonna do this for a living, right?" he asks, turning to face you.

"I hope so," you confess. "It's all I want to do. Going to culinary school was a huge risk, but I did it. It was difficult, but they were also the best four years of my life. I just learned so much. I want to put it all into practice."

"I think you should. It'd be such a waste if you didn't. You're so talented, sugar."

"Thanks, Buck," you grin. "I just don't know where to start."

He thinks for a moment.

"If you could do anything, anything in the world - what would you do?"

He's looking at you so intensely, you almost want to shy away. His steel blue eyes are boring into you, reading your mind, figuring out your soul.

"I'd... I'd open a bakery of my own. I want a lot that overlooks the ocean. With big windows."

Bucky smiles gently, adoration written across his face.

"I'd be your most loyal customer," he vows. "Oh, I have a better idea - I'll be your quality control. I'll taste test everything before you sell it. You know, just in case."

"Just in case," you laugh. "Right."

"It's a tough job, but someone's got to do it," he winks.

The sound of your laughter is like dopamine to Bucky. It fires off neurons in his brain, receptors buzzing and alight. He almost feels drunk off the sound, floating above ground.

You relax into him, laying down and resting your head in his lap. He's warm, and soft, and so comfortable. You could lie here forever.

He runs his fingers through your hair gently, playing with the strands. The repetitive rocking of the boat lulls you into an easy sleep, the sunlight wrapping around you, taking the place of a blanket. Bucky watches you drift off, unable to wipe the smile off his face.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

A particularly strong gust of wind wakes you, rousing you from sleep. Your fingers are interlinked with Bucky's, head still resting on his strong thighs.

"How long was I out?" you ask, looking up at him.

"Like, twenty minutes? You looked peaceful, thought I'd let you rest."

"Sorry, Buck," you chuckle.

"Hey, don't apologise. I'll take it as a compliment. You know, they say you only sleep around the people you feel safe with."

"They say a lot of fuckin' things," you laugh, repeating his words from yesterday.

"I do, though," you say after a moment. "Feel safe with you. It's not just the soulmate thing. I always have."

Bucky leans down to press his forehead to yours, closing his eyes. He pulls away and kisses the spot where you were just connected.

"We should talk about us," you murmur, sitting up to face him.

"Uh oh. Are you breaking up with me?" Bucky jokes, nudging your knee with his.

"Yeah, right," you scoff. "As if you'd be so lucky. You're stuck with me, I'm afraid."

"I'll survive," he winks. "But we should. Talk about us."

You look at each other for a moment, carefully. You notice that the ocean is reflecting in Bucky's eyes, waves gleaming and blue.

"I don't know where to start," you whisper.

"Maybe start at the beginning," he suggests, reaching out to rest his palm on your thigh, fingertips rubbing comforting circles into your skin.

"I... I think - I think we should do exactly that. Start at the beginning."

He nods at you reassuringly, urging you to continue.

"I want to start slow. Really slow. I know we already know each other, but this... this is different. We don't know each other like this."

"Like soulmates," he agrees. "It's a whole other level. A league of its own."

"Exactly. I know we're Tethered, but, I think we should treat this like a normal relationship. We should date, and just... take this step by step."

"One step at a time," he confirms. "Prepare yourself, honey. I'm about to date the hell outta you."

"Someone save me," you laugh, throwing your head back. "All those poor girls that have come before me - they had to put up with this?"

He laughs with you, the sound rumbling in his chest.

"Trust me, sugar, you're different."

Bucky leans forward and slots his lips to yours, hands going to your waist to pull you closer.

Kissing your soulmate is unlike any other feeling. It's complete serenity. Two bodies, designed by The Universe to fit together perfectly.

Your fingers thread through Bucky's hair as you move to sit in his lap, straddling him. You grind your hips forward, illiciting a groan from the both of you.

Bucky slips his tongue into your mouth, tasting the sugar there. He can't get enough. You're so sweet and soft underneath his hands, underneath his tongue. He wants more.

He tips you backwards, so you're lying flat on the deck. Bucky moves to kneel in between your legs, prying them open gently. He kisses his way from your ankle to your knee, occasionally nipping at your flesh. He likes the idea of there being a mark on you that he left. He feels more protective of you than he ever has of anyone. The feeling vibrates through his bones, fires up his nerve endings. He needs to feel every inch of your skin as soon as possible, or he's convinced he'll burst into flames.

He smooths his hands up your thighs, fingers catching in the waistband of your shorts. He shimmies them down your legs, and inhales sharply at the sight before him. You're laid out on the deck of his boat like a goddess, the white shirt adorning your body matching the white lace underwear underneath. The sun rays are beating down, illuminating you, making you glow from the inside out. Bucky can't breathe, looking at you. He feels like all of the oxygen has been stolen from his lungs, replaced with pure desire.

You're breathless, panting, chest heaving. You're shaking with anticipation, willing him to do something. Anything.

"Bucky," you whine. "Please."

He's never heard a prettier sound. It's like angel song, the way you say his name.

"Patience, sweets. I thought we were taking it slow."

"Asshole," you laugh, poking him in the chest with your toe. "You're a hypocrite."

"Am I?" he smirks, running his fingertips across the inside of your thighs.

"Yes. You can't kiss me like that and then tell me to have patience."

"My apologies, ma'am."

He leans over and kisses you again, biting your bottom lip as he pulls away. Bucky slips your underwear down your legs and tucks them into the pocket of his shorts, ignoring your scoff as you watch him do it.

"Come here, pretty baby," he murmurs, tugging at your hips to pull you closer to him.

He nudges your core with his nose, inhaling deeply. It's filthy, the action, but it makes you ache with want. He licks into the crease of your thigh next, tasting the salt on your skin. Your hand flies to his hair, tugging the chocolate strands. You whine again, and Bucky commits the sound to memory.

He surprises you by sucking your clit gently, causing your hips to buck up towards his mouth. He splays one hand across your stomach, holding you down. He uses his other hand to insert a finger into you, groaning at your warmth. He crooks it up, and you keen.

"I know, baby, I know," he coos, adding a second finger.

You're not sure if it's because of the glaring sunlight or because of Bucky, but there's a thin sheen of sweat coating your skin, dripping down your temple. You're burning from the inside out, white hot heat running through your veins.

He thrusts both fingers in and out of you steadily, curling them on the up stroke. You throw your head back, hips wriggling and writhing.

"Where you going, pretty girl?" he drawls. "Come here - that's it."

He pulls you back to him, fingers never stopping. He looks up at you, and notices that you've thrown a hand over your face, shielding yourself.

"Don't go shy on me now," he practically purrs, smiling when you move your arm away. "Most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

"Fuck," you moan, suddenly glad you're in the middle of the ocean. The sounds you're letting out are filthy.

"I know, pretty baby. I know."

His fingers push you closer and closer to the edge, speeding up slightly. You're whining, keening, hips bucking up into him. You can't stay still. You feel like you're on fire, red hot electricity running through you. It's never been like this with anyone before. It never will be again.

"You're close, honey, I can feel it. You're almost there," he drawls. "Atta girl. Come on, baby. You got it. Good girl."

His low, honeyed words throw you into your climax, back arching off the sun warmed wood. Bucky talks you through it, encouraging and praising you in hushed murmurs. You see stars, bright white patterns flashing behind your eyelids. The world goes quiet for a moment, and all you feel is peace.

Bucky brings you back to reality by rubbing soothing circles into the bare skin of your thigh, still muttering softly. He lets you catch your breath before leaning over and kissing you gently.

"You okay, sugar?"

You smile at him in a daze, still floating on air.

"I'm good, Buck. Very good, actually."

He laughs at your response, moving your hair away from your face. You sit up to look at him, admiring him carefully.

"You're so pretty," you whisper. "I mean, I've always known it. But now, it's so... blinding. You're the most beautiful person in the world."

He's not sure how to process your words. He's never felt so loved, so safe, so appreciated before. It's overwhelming. He doesn't know what to say - so instead, he kisses you hard.

"You're the sweetest girl in the world, you know that right?" he whispers against your lips.

He moves to sit behind you, so your back is resting against his chest. You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. He smells like warmth, and salt, and home.

"I don't think we should tell my parents," you say lowly, afraid to ruin the moment. "Not yet, anyway."

"I agree," he reassures. "I think we should figure this out first. Figure us out."

You lean up and peck his lips gently, pulling away to trace your fingertips over the contours of his face.

"It's gonna take a while to figure this out, isn't it?"

"That's the thing, sweet girl. We have all the time in the world."

You relax back into his arms, letting his steady heartbeat lull you into complete tranquility.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You spend all day on the boat with Bucky, soaking up the sun. Your shirts are billowing in the wind, hair blowing in every direction. The ocean rocks you both in routine motion, gentle and calming.

He teaches you the basics of sailing, sitting knee to knee with you while you repeatedly tie knots into pieces of rope. He stands behind you comfortingly as you pull and tug at the rigging, supporting you only when you ask for help.

The two of you sit tangled together on the deck, enjoying your picnic. You take a moment to rub sunblock into Bucky's shoulders, ignoring the heat that rises in your chest when he groans in delight. He's irresistible. This is more than just lust. This is a magnetism, an almost animalistic connection. It's quite literally written in the stars.

The both of you are clearly reluctant to go home. You sit in Bucky's truck outside your apartment for hours, talking about nothing and everything. You don't invite him upstairs. You know that if you do, you'll jump his bones instantly. You've both agreed to take this slow. You have to start being strict with yourselves, or you'll just keep ending up in bed.

Eventually, your stomach rumbles, making Bucky chuckle.

"You should go. Eat something."

"I know. I just... I like being with you."

He leans over the centre console to press a kiss to your lips, revelling in the way you taste like the ocean breeze.

"There's no one else in the world I'd rather be with," he murmurs against your mouth.

You pull away and take a deep breath, preparing to leave Bucky for tonight.

"Thank you, for today. It's been perfect."

"Perfect day for a perfect girl," he winks, making you both laugh.

"One step at a time."

"All the time in the world," he echoes.

"Goodnight, Buck," you whisper, moving in closer to press your forehead to his.

"Goodnight, honey girl," he whispers back, pecking your lips quickly.

He jumps out of the drivers side to help you down from the truck, holding your hand carefully. You smile at the déjà vu. He does too.

You look back at him once more before closing your front door. He's already looking at you, his eyes never once leaving your frame, smile never leaving his face.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You're curled up on the couch when your phone rings, startling you from your peace. You look at the caller ID in confusion.

"Stella? Hey - you okay?"

"Hey, you. Long time no see, huh?"

"It's been a while," you laugh. "I didn't expect a call from you."

"I'm sorry we haven't talked in so long. I've been super busy - I'm opening my own café! It has a bookshop inside it too - oh it's gorgeous, you wouldn't even believe it."

"That sounds amazing, Stella. I'm so happy for you, wow."

"I'm actually calling because I have something to ask you."

"Ask away, Stell."

"I have a sort of... proposition for you. An offer, if you will."

"You're really building the anticipation here," you chuckle.

"Sorry, sorry! So, I'm gonna need a Head Baker. I can't do it, because I'll be manager, and I'm the owner which is a tough job in itself. Opening a café is fucking difficult, you know!" she laughs, before continuing. "You'd have complete creative control - you'd design your own bakes, everything would be completely down to you. There's quite literally only one person in this world that I'd want to do this job, and it's you."

You almost can't believe what she's telling you. It sounds perfect. It sounds like a dream.

"Stella - are you sure? This is a huge deal. You want me?"

"I only want you. I can't picture working alongside anyone else. We made such a good team in culinary school, and we always said we'd find each other in the future."

"I... I don't even know what to say."

"Say yes!" she encourages, giggling down the phone.

"Yes!" you echo, giddy with joy. "God, Stella, yes!"

You're smiling from ear to ear, unable to wipe the grin off your face. Your dream job has been presented to you on a silver platter. You'd be stupid not to take it.

"I mean - when do I start? What should I wear? Do you want a set menu, or can I change it up all the time? Vegan options? Gluten free?"

"I can send you all of the boring stuff in an email - contracts, salary information, all that shit. You can quite literally do whatever the fuck you want, girl. I trust you completely. I trust your culinary skills even more."

"Oh my god, I'm so excited. Thank you, Stella. Seriously. This is just amazing."

"I can't wait to have you here with me again!"

You process for a moment, trying to make sense of what she just said.

"Wait... what? Where?"

"In California. The café is here, in California!"

You can't hear her next words due to the ringing in your ears. Your chest tightens, your hands ball into fists, your breathing becomes ragged.

There's a million thoughts racing through your mind, and you can't quite get a firm grasp on any of them.

Bucky would never leave this place. This is his home. I can't ask him to abandon his life here - I wouldn't want to. We've been soulmates for two days. What about his job? His friends? Would I leave everything behind and move across the country for him? I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I can't have my cake and eat it too. He'd give everything up for me in a heartbeat - I can't let him. It's not fair.

You're suddenly intensely aware - you have to make a choice.

Bucky or your dreams.

Tag List -

@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @val-writesstuff @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @cremebruleequeen @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @sarah1barnes @miss-rebel-without-applause @ragingrainbowshipl @shamrockqueen @savemeroman @jenn-f @8crazy-freak8 @daddyjackfrost @openup-yourmind @adangerousbalance @mandijo17 @daddylorianisastateofmind @rcarbo1 @casa-boiardi @spideegwen @navs-bhat @mssbridgerton @asuni921 @middle-of-the-earth @mfrnchsk

tag list continued here <3

[txttletale]

roadhogsbigbelly is doubling down. genuinely incredible (yes i am aware how deeply funny it is to start a serious post with that sentence. it is my one allotment of levity)

oh okay you just assumed that "loliporn" was involved and something that i deserved to be associated with defending and accused of making "integral to the queer identity" because of stuff that the OP (who i cannot stress enough i never followed or talked to or knew in any fucking way!) did that got called out months after i made my addition?

the rest of his post is just a very lengthy way of saying "umm if you didn't want to be called a pedophile because you were mean about stardew valley maybe you should be more careful about how you reblog from". yeah buddy im sure you apply that standard to yourself too huh. im sure you pull out your Bad Person detector every time you reblog a fucking post and beam OP with it. you literally screenshot my post about how as a trans women i get this standard uniquely applied to me and went "um its a good standard though. answer for the actions of every fucking person youve ever reblogged a post by".

and all this whole fucking schtick where he's like "ummmm im not calling you a pedophile :) i just assumed you thought 'loliporn was integral to the queer identity' based on source: i made it up and am going out of my way to repeatedly say you're agreeing with pedophiles and not being wary enough about pedophiles and that 99% of people who make the type of post im accusing you of making are pedophiles" is so fucking pathetic and if you fall for it you are a blatant transmisogynist like come the fuck on man.

i am no longer having a nice time on the computer, i am pretty fucking angry. and all this because he "doesnt have much skin in the game" but he doesn't like my stardew valley takes! yeah man real proportionate response.

not to mention the aside he makes to say 'wah wah someone told me to kill myself' amiguito do you have any fucking idea what my inbox has looked like since this entire transmisogynistic harassment campaign began a week ago? i delete those asks because i'm not into flaunting every piece of online abuse i get to make myself look like the victim in computer arguments but it has been constant and graphic! breaking news, women are people too, some of the most cutting-edge research suggests they might even have feelings!

"oh i censored her identity i dont know how she even found it" oh okay so you were anonymously pedojacketing me to your thousands of followers while vaguing about a post i made that had thousands of notes and using the same screenshot that an uncensored version of was passed around with thousands of notes as part of a transmisogynistic harassment campaign last fucking week?

how could anyone possibly have guessed it was me! it's a real mystery man it was basically witness protection. "oh but i didn't know, i didn't know she was trans", maybe he'll also say he didn't know about the harassment campaign, hey fucker, maybe apply some of the constant scrutiny you're reserving for women who are mean about farming game and apply it to yourself and consider looking into these things before baselessly making pedo accusations against someone!

this transmisogynistic crybully shit is absolutely fucking insufferable and i am absolutely sick of it and anyone who buys into it. i'm done assuming good faith or ignorance. i am not going to be a good placid little bullying target and acquiesce to this vile shit. it's truly fucking incredible that a tme guy can be found out as an actual pedophile and guys like mr. belly can immediately jump into action to use this as an opportunity to denounce a trans woman who had one interaction with him ever that consisted of five minutes spent typing an addition to a post and hitting ''reblog''. & if you don't find that sickening then straight up you are not safe for trans women to be around.

[yazmarina]

super trouper

for hit play, a drabble event.

—"part of a success that never ends, still i'm thinking about you only " (super trouper by abba)

charles leclerc (f1) x afab!reader

warnings/notes: exes to ?, hint of second chance romance

a/n: short and sweet on my return. i hope all the charles girlies and non-girlies like this <3

You really shouldn't be here. You had no reason to turn up at this race weekend, save for the fact that your friend was also going and she urged you to go for her sake.

Right. You're doing this for her. No one else. Certainly not for the hometown hero.

His face is everywhere and so are the eyes that seem to gape at you. People's eyes follow you with curiosity, double takes and soft gasps when they realize who you are.

It takes all your self-control not to roll your eyes under the heat of their stares. Are they not aware that I live literally a bus ride away? I spend half of my time in Monaco, anyway. Why is everyone freaked out that I'm here?

You can already read the gossip headlines in your mind.

"Do you want to grab some lunch first?" Your friend asks, gesturing to the huge hospitality building that overlooked the pitlane.

You nod, wanting nothing more than to be indoors and away from prying eyes. "Sure."

The two of you make your way inside and you're relieved to see that people are sparse here, not a single one of them giving you any mind. You settle in a booth at the very end of the floor, letting your friend have a go first at the buffet of food laid out.

You idle with your phone for a bit, already seeing your inbox count tick upward. You've been here for an hour and it seems as if the whole paddock has already seen you.

You lock your phone in frustration.

You really shouldn't have come. Not when the breakup barely six months ago was shrouded in so much speculation and drama. It's not as if your relationship with Charles exploded into a world-stopping mess. It just slowly but surely crumbled, all the gossip chipping away at the love you once shared. You know all this was part of it—the dedicated pages to scrutinizing you, your looks, your behavior, the news about you and your ex still coming out half a year after you split, the constant barrage of questions about Charles, Charles, always about Charles.

But it was indeed always about Charles.

Even you being here, in Monte Carlo today, was about him.

You promised you'd see him race at home when you were still together. It wasn't your fault the relationship would be that short-lived.

But, still. You promised.

You unlock your phone once more, opening up the message thread you had with Charles. The last text was from him, asking if you'd be in France this week. You never answered back.

'Hi Charles.'

You cringe at the formality but with a deep breath, you continue to type.

'Yes, I'm still here. I'll be watching today with a friend. Wishing you all the luck :)'

-

The grip you had on your seat could have been enough to crush someone's hand.

The wide-screen TV in hospitality flashed the bright red Ferrari of your ex-boyfriend, leading the race, five laps away from victory. A victory at his home race, with his dream team, his people cheering him on.

Your heart hammers against your chest and you feel rigid all over, nerves and anticipation taking ahold of you. Your friend looks over and you meet her eyes, and you know at that moment what she's thinking. She smiles, reaching for your hand, and squeezes.

Regardless of what became of you and Charles, it's hard not to feel as if this was your dream too. All the late nights and missed dates and the pain and scrutiny were for this. For him to achieve this very dream.

You feel tears start to well in your eyes as Charles enters his final lap. The people around you are already jumping out of their seats, egging him on, closer and closer to the chequered flag.

As Charles drives past the finish line, the whole world seems to erupt in cheers but it's all tuned out as your tears start to finally fall. You don't notice the gentle shake of your shoulders as hundreds of emotions crash down on you.

You let your friend pull you into a hug, hiding your tear-streaked face from the world.

The podium celebrations right after didn't help much with your attempt at keeping a casual, level-headed facade. Your nose is stuffy and you haven't stopped crying since the race ended. The slow recognition from the people around you isn't lost on you, either.

But it's hard to care when Charles stands on the top step of the podium, beaming as his national anthem blares. It's more difficult yet, fighting the urge to run to wherever he is just so you could jump into his arms and tell him how proud of him you are, how much you miss him, how much you still love him.

Instead, you turn to your friend, hicupping through your tears as you ask if they can come with you back to the paddock.

-

"You're here."

You smile sheepishly as Charles stops just as he's about to enter the Ferrari motorhome. The calls of his name and murmur from the fans around you tailing him through the paddock are drowned out, your whole body seemingly rooted in place as the familiar green eyes look into yours.

"Yes," you respond plainly, suddenly at a loss for words. Clearing your throat, you step closer and Charles automatically opens his arms for a hug.

"Congratulations, Cha," you say, voice muffled into his shoulder as he pulls you against his chest.

"Thank you." Charles beams at you as he pulls away. The smell of champagne is still strong on him but you pay it no mind, wanting nothing more than for everyone to disappear so you could share even a fraction of a moment with him. Just him.

"Did you cry, mon cœur?" Charles asks, looking at you closely. Your jaw drops open at his use of your old pet name and he, too, pauses and blinks as he realizes what he's done.

Charles laughs, a hint of nervousness in his voice, and you can't help but giggle along. It's awkward and it's not ideal, but being this close to him brings a certain ache in your heart, more sweet than painful.

"I'll see you later, okay?" Charles declares, gently taking hold of your arm. "Promise. I'll see you."

You nod, smiling up at him. Tears prickle in your eyes again and you quickly blink them away, mortified at what everyone would think about you crying in front of your ex after his home race win.

Charles leans in and delivers a peck on your cheek, quickly rubbing your back before turning to finally enter the motorhome. He gives you one last wave before disappearing behind the glass doors.

[perfctvelvet]

I can’t stop thinking about Momo from Twice!! 😫 She’s SO hot and I NEED her to straddle me, put me into a mating press and use a double ended dildo with me. She’s so strong and has so much stamina I could imagine Momo not stopping her thrusts until she’s satisfied and eating reader in between out to give them a “break” (ofc with reader not wanting her to stop either but Momo knows reader is just being a brat 🤭)

Lush; Momo/Reader

Content: 2nd POV. PWP, teasing and praise, overstimulation, double-ended dildo, oral (reader receiving).

A/N: Anon thank you for this message 😿I love when y'all get creative in my inbox!!! Hopefully I did your fantasy some justice. Enjoy!

It was amazing how Momo could just keep going and going. All that stamina and energy had to go somewhere, and she took it out on your poor pussy.

Your knees are almost pressed to your shoulders as Momo drills into you. The toy she has is thick and placed inside the two of you. She's able to keep herself composed, focused on nothing but pure pleasure while you feel like a hot mess beneath her. Tears fall from your eyes as she tries to kiss them away. Two rounds and orgasms in and you're so overwhelmed. Despite having the same thick length in her pussy, Momo is able to handle it much better than you. The feeling of her driving the toy into you and hitting your sore soft spot made you shake. The mess between your legs caused your skin to stick to his. You kept your eyes closed shut in embarrassment; the only thing on your mind is when will he be fully satiated?

"Can you handle another one, pretty girl?"

She manages to speak in a clear voice with soft moans placed between some of her words. Compared to you, who can only let out a babble, Momo could go for a few more rounds.

"Momo!" You whine. It's the only coherent word you can manage.

Momo cups your face and kisses your bruised lips. She feels bad that you're already so worn out, but she also enjoys seeing you at her mercy.

"You're doing so good for me baby. Your pretty face is gonna make me cum!"

Despite the pleasure stirring in her stomach, Momo's thrusts are still consistent and mean. You know she's getting close because she's fucking you faster and harder. She meets you with one final thrust before grinding her clit against yours. You don't mean to cum with her but after all this time of getting your pussy stretched open, the pressure on your clit makes you explode.

Your voice cracks at the loud moan that escapes. Momo squeals and moans as she cums just seconds after you. Her cum slides down the toy and onto your pussy. You are far past feeling sloppy, but Momo wants more.

"Don't give up on me now baby." She sits up, giving you a chance to stretch and move your legs again, but your pussy is still stuffed. She starts bouncing again, her pretty tits moving up and down with each movement.

You just lay there trying to pull yourself together. You grab onto Momo's hips which slow her down a little. She gives you a sympathetic look and comes to a complete stop. You're tired, but seeing her slide off of the double-ended dildo makes your mouth water.

"My pretty baby feeling sore?"

Unable to speak, you nod your head pathetically. Momo coos at the sight of you. You weren't sure if she was teasing you or if she was feeling bad for making you this way. She gets between your legs and slowly pulls the dildo out of you. You whimper once you're pussy is empty and has nothing to clench anymore. Through half-closed eyes you watch her stick your end of the toy into her mouth and she sucks off your cum. She moans at the taste. You close your eyes completely to avoid feeling even more embarrassment. Your face feels like it's on fire.

Momo inspects your sore pussy for a few seconds before softly dragging her finger against your puffy folds. You tense up and open your eyes again. You're still feeling overwhelmed but somehow her touching you like this is soothing. Momo bends down and buries her face in your pussy. She collects the mix your cum together in her mouth. She hums as if she's feasting on the sweetest, freshest honey in all of the land. Her soft tongue on your pussy feels like silk. The feeling of your flesh against her tongue is turning her on more than you.

She should show some restraints, but she just can't. The mess between your legs, the taste of your pussy, and the sight of like this makes her hungry again. So for the third time tonight, she pushes the dildo into your pussy again and then mounts you.

"Just one more for me. I promise."

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

Shooting a Movie part 2

Note: as if I can write a one chapter thing. nope! once again; shoutout to @foxyanon for letting me ramble about this fic to her as I made it up!

follow up to part 1.

Warnings: 18+!! smut/brief hint of angst. The pornstar plot continues with Sihtric.

pairing: Modern!Sihtric x you (f)

summary: your next job offer was to make a movie with Sihtric.

wordcount: 5k

Masterlist

Your movie with Masema had been a success, and the movie offers came rolling in your manager's inbox ever since it was released.

You viewed all the offers but none really made you excited as they were, as expected, all made for the hardcore porn industry. Masema had told you he'd always be up for another movie if you would be interested, all you had to do was contact his manager and he'd be game. But as much as you had loved your little adventure with the dominant man, the hardcore stuff was not what you wanted to focus on necessarily right now, so you turned down offer after offer.

However, after a few weeks you contemplated hitting up Masema again, as you simply needed work in order to pay your bills, but before you could reach out you suddenly received an interesting message; a role in a more soft porn movie was available, and the male co-star was none other than Sihtric Kjartansson.

Sihtric was a very well known name in the industry, just like Masema, and it wasn't easy to make it through the selection to work with him. You and many others swore Sihtric and Masema could've been twins, but they both truly didn't know each other nor had they ever met, despite working in the same industry. There were some differences between the two men though. Sihtric was scarred and had several tattoos on his body, and he had an outrageous but damned sexy haircut with half of his head shaved and the other half full with long, dark curls. But their personalities were completely different as well. Masema was stern, serious and rather quiet, whereas Sihtric was not taking himself seriously at all, he just wanted to have fun. And from the stories you had heard in the dressing rooms and at parties, Sihtric was truly kind, gentle and very warmhearted. Everyone who had worked with Sihtric had nothing but praise for him, and you hoped you would soon be one of the lucky ones who could tell nice stories about him.

You reacted to the available spot, and to your surprise you got a phone call from Sihtric himself only a few days later to tell you that you were his first choice.

'There's a script,' Sihtric said on the phone, 'it's a roleplay but I haven't read it yet. I thought maybe we could go through it together?'

Sihtric's voice melted your insides, sounding so warm and playful, and you already couldn't wait to finally meet him. You'd seen several of his movies, and you had never failed to get off by watching him, but you weren't exactly planning on telling him that.

'Sure, that sounds great,' you said, glad that he couldn't see your flushed face.

'Great,' Sihtric said and laughed softly, which weakened your knees, 'how do you want to meet? I just want to make sure you're all comfortable, you know? I could come over to your place if you'd wish, if you feel safe and at ease there, but you're always welcome to come over to my place. Or, we could always meet up for lunch or something and just go over it, no matter how weird that may be,' he laughed again.

'Eh,' you stammered a little lightheaded, 'no, I- I'll come over to your place, no worries.'

You preferred to visit your co-stars instead of inviting them over to your home, that way you can always leave whenever you want to in case you don't vibe with them.

'Alright, cool,' Sihtric said with clear excitement in his voice, 'I'll make sure I have the scripts here and I'll text you my address. If you're cool with me texting you of course,' he quickly checked.

'Sure, you can text me,' you smiled.

When you arrived at the apartment building Sihtric lived in you double checked the address he had texted you before getting out of your car. The neighbourhood looked rather dodgy, even on a late afternoon, and not a place where a famous and rich pornstar would live. You were hesitant to get out of your car as you saw a group of men hanging out near the building, and so you texted Sihtric to ask if you were really at the right place. You looked at the building again and got spooked when your phone suddenly rang as Sihtric called you.

'Sihtric?' you answered.

'Yeah, hey,' he chuckled as he ran down some stairs, his footsteps echoing loudly in the background, 'you're at the right place, but I know how it looks. I'm on my way to pick you up, don't worry.'

He had barely said those words when you saw the main entrance door swing open and Sihtric stepping through it. He looked so good while so casually dressed, wearing black leather boots with black sweatpants and a half buttoned up grey flannel on top. His outfit coincidentally matched with your short black skirt and dark grey t-shirt.

Sihtric hung up as soon as he saw you step out of your car, and he showed you a big smile as he approached you with open arms, inviting you in for a hug.

'Hey, babe,' he said so smoothly and naturally while he pulled you in for a tight embrace, 'sorry about the place,' he rambled before you could even greet him back, 'I've lived here almost all my life and I'm used to it. I actually never invite colleagues over for that reason and stop by them, so when I invited you I forget this place looks dodgy as fuck. Sorry about that,' he took a step back and held your hands, 'damn, you look gorgeous by the way,' he made you twirl around for him as he held your hand so he could check you out, 'how are you, darling?'

'I- Oh,' you giggled as you nearly fell in his arms, 'I'm good,' you smiled and already felt yourself getting lost in his mismatched eyes, 'and how are you?'

'Couldn't be better,' Sihtric smiled sweetly and then noticed he had never given you the time or space to close your car door, so he shut it for you.

'Thanks,' you felt yourself already constantly blushing in his presence.

Sihtric waved off your gratitude and took your hand, holding it as he walked you towards the building.

His apartment was bigger than you had expected, but still very modest and it was evident that a single guy lived there. His living room was a little bit messy, but not dirty, and you wondered why someone who earned the amount of money he did lived in a place like that. There was nothing wrong with it though, but it was the total opposite of Masema's mansion for example, as Sihtric only seemed to have one bedroom instead of six. And in a way you actually liked that, because Sihtric clearly wasn't flashy and showing off his money; he liked to keep life simple and it seemingly kept him grounded too.

You sat down on his black leather couch while he poured you a drink, and after some small talk you moved on to the reason for this meeting.

'Okay,' Sihtric said with a sigh as he held the scripts in his hand, 'I've only read the pairing and it's as cliché as it gets, but,' he paused for a second and handed you the one script, 'I think it's hilarious and we can work with it.'

'What's the pair- oh,' you snorted when you saw the roles selected, 'teacher and student, really?'

'I know,' Sihtric laughed and let himself fall back into his comfy couch next to you, 'let's see what we got here then,' he said and flipped the first page.

You sipped your drink while his eyes scanned the first page, and a frown appeared on his face before it transformed into a grin.

'Oh, hold on,' he chuckled, 'I expected me to be the intimidating teacher and you the hot student, but it looks like they reversed the roles for once.'

'What?' you nearly choked on your drink and flipped the page, 'oh, shit,' you laughed.

'This is ridiculous,' Sihtric laughed again as he read the context of the written scenes, 'I have to eat you out to crank my grade up? And in return for my good behaviour you give me a blowjob? I would've been a fucking A student in school if this was how it worked,' he snorted, and you both laughed as you continued to read.

'Oh, we have sex on the teacher's desk, obviously,' you rolled your eyes with a smile.

'I love how awful this is,' Sihtric said and shook his head, smiling, 'who even writes this shit?'

'The writer should be stated in the back right?' you had barely spoken the words or Sihtric already flipped to the last page.

'Let's see. Hm, one… Osferth?' Sihtric furrowed his brow and then laughed, 'what a freaky dude. Anyway, are you up for this though?' Sihtric looked at you and threw his script on his salon table.

'Eh,' you paused as you quickly looked through the written acts again, 'yeah, it's all fine by me. Nothing we haven't done before. I'm cool with this. You?'

'Of course,' he said and turned to face you, resting his arm on the couch's backrest behind you.

You also turned towards him, feeling comfortably shy under his intense but soft and sweet gaze. You knew he wanted more than to discuss that script with you, but it was also clear that he gave you enough space to tell him you didn't want anything more right now if that would be the case. But you had no plans of stopping him, as you wanted to explore him as much as he wanted to explore you. And Sihtric sensed that, he was good at reading people and feeling their energy, and he liked what you radiated. He then leaned in a little closer and hooked one finger around the delicate golden necklace you wore.

'Gift from a lover?' he asked as he looked at the little heart pendant.

'Oh, no,' you said, 'I just liked it and bought it myself some years ago.'

'Ah,' he clicked his tongue, 'fair. I saw it in one of your movies and I thought it was just an accessory at first, but I got curious now seeing you wear it in private.'

'You got curious?' you asked with a playful smile, 'curious to what? If I'm seeing someone?'

'Just curious is all, sweetheart,' Sihtric said with a soft voice, and he smiled while his fingers grazed your collar bones lightly after letting go of your necklace.

'So you've seen my work?' you continued to question him.

'Your latest one, yeah,' he confessed, his fingers trailing down your arm, 'I had heard your name a few times before, I knew you were pretty new but also rapidly gaining an impressive resume.'

'And you wanted to work with me because of my last movie? Because that was really just me exploring the industry a little further.'

'I figured,' Sihtric smiled and placed his hand on your thigh, 'but it was a good movie. And you're now the first girl who got to kiss Masema on screen.'

'That's a title I proudly earned,' you smiled, to which Sihtric laughed and leaned in closer.

'You know, I'm also not one to kiss in my movies,' he half whispered and circled your lips with his thumb, 'but I understand Masema, because you make it so damned tempting.'

You smiled a little shyly, which he enjoyed, and he moved even closer while you remained somewhat frozen.

'You can touch me, you know,' he purred with a flirty smile and took your hand to place it on his chest.

You giggled softly, and Sihtric lightly caressed your cheek with his fingers. You looked up at him for a moment, and then your eyes darted between his slightly parted lips and his eyes, which popped out because of his black eyeliner, and you immediately looked down at your hand on his chest after you noticed he saw you had looked at his lips.

'What's the matter?' he asked sweetly, 'getting shy? There's no reason for that. I'm sure you've seen my work, so we've seen each other naked already anyway, what else is there to be shy about?'

'I just struggle to not kiss you,' you confessed.

'Why do you want to kiss me so badly?' he asked with a smirk.

'Because you're cute,' you shrugged, 'and really good looking of course.'

'Well, so are you,' Sihtric half whispered, 'so in that case, maybe you could kiss me.'

'Can I?' you asked as you both leaned in closer, feeling his breath on your lips.

'You can, but you're getting me all nervous now,' he chuckled, 'it's been a while since I properly kissed someone.'

You smiled compassionately at him, hoping to ease his sudden nerves, and you moved your hands up to his neck as you leaned in to softly peck his lips. Another nervous chuckle escaped Sihtric as you pulled back to look at him, wanting to make sure that everything was fine with him, but the blush on his cheeks told you everything you needed to know without even asking, and you brought your lips back to his again.

'That okay?' you asked after a longer kiss.

'Mhm,' Sihtric hummed softly against your lips and moved his hands to your face, pulling you back in again for another tender kiss.

He pulled you in his lap, and you straddled him while you continued to kiss gently and slowly, while not lacking the intensity of that steamy kiss you had shared with Masema. Sihtric moaned softly into your mouth when the kiss deepened, and you became a little lightheaded when you felt his tongue piercing lightly grazing your lips and tongue.

'You good?' you asked after he broke the kiss for some air.

'Mhm, don't stop,' Sihtric breathed against your lips, and immediately snuck his tongue in your mouth again at the first opportunity.

His fingers slid under your short skirt, settling on your buttocks while you unbuttoned the rest of his flannel and pushed it down his shoulders. You felt the cold steel of his silver rings on your skin while you kissed his jaw and up to his earlobe, where you playfully tugged his dangling cross earring lightly with your teeth, before you kissed under his ear and down his neck.

Sihtric smiled and threw his head back on his couch, enjoying the way your lips felt on his skin a little more than he perhaps should, but you somehow made him feel so good, he relished in it.

He hooked his arms under your knees after a moment, and lifted you smoothly his arms as he got up, walking you over to his office desk which was located in front of the living room window, overlooking the rather shady neighbourhood from the third floor, and he took off his flannel as soon as he had sat you down. You bit down on your lip as you smiled, eyeing up his muscular and scarred torso before you placed your hand on the back of his neck and pulled him back in for another kiss while you wrapped your legs around his waist, locking him in.

'Tell me what you like,' Sihtric breathed against your lips, his hands roaming your body before taking off your shirt.

'Anything, handsome,' you laughed your signature cheeky laugh, which took Sihtric by surprise and he simply melted inside.

He smiled at you, his eyes half dazed while his lips were touching yours and his hand holding your face.

'Anything, baby?' he murmured playfully and then pushed your mini skirt further up, his fingers curled around the elastic band of your seethrough panties, 'that's not good enough for me though, I need to hear what you want.'

'Your cock,' you smiled and cupped his arousal through his black sweatpants.

'You want my cock?' he teased, 'hm, how badly?'

His warm and soft voice sent tingles down your spine while he held your face close to his, lips and noses touching as you both smiled at each other.

'Really badly,' you whispered seductively and lowered his sweatpants.

You attempted to pull down his boxers too, but Sihtric playfully slapped your hands away.

'Nah-ah,' he chuckled, 'it's my turn first,' he winked and dropped to his knees.

He pulled your panties down so fast you had no idea how he had done it, and before you could even adjust to the sudden change your legs were already upon his broad shoulders and his head between your thighs. He knew the script had more foreplay, but he also knew neither of you were sticking to the script in any way right now, except that you were sitting upon a desk and he was about to taste you.

You gasped when you felt him kiss and suck your clit lightly before he started to lick you, his piercing then hitting the right spot with every roll of his tongue. You squirmed at the feeling and fell back on his desk. His grip on you was loose and relaxed, he knew you weren't going to try and get away from him because the sounds you made told him you were enjoying yourself too much.

Your breath hitched in your throat at the feeling of his facial hair against your skin, and you couldn't stop smiling at the way he pleasured you so gently yet firm. You moved one hand down into his dark curls, and the vibration of his low and satisfying hums against your core made you squeal and tug his hair each time while you arched your back, much to Sihtric's own pleasure. He had you at his mercy so easily and he loved it. He wanted you to feel as good as it felt for him, and knowing he didn't even have to use his hands on you to make you feel this good stroked his ego and made him feel content too. He could get off by just pleasing you all night.

'Hm, please,' you mumbled, smiling, desperately needing more.

You pushed yourself up your elbows to look at Sihtric, but you immediately fell back down lightheaded after having locked eyes with him while he slowly teased you with the tip of his tongue and winked at you. You were left breathless and swore you saw stars after you laid back down again, and that was not just because you were looking out of the window.

'Just relax for me,' Sihtric cooed and moved up, leaning in over you and pressing his hard trapped cock against your folds while he took your chin, 'let me take care of you, please? A pretty girl like you deserves to be taken care of.'

'But what if I want to take care of you?' you asked with a slight pout.

'You're too pretty to get down on your knees for me,' Sihtric whispered with a soft smile, 'we can do that when we're filming. But I'm not letting you do that here, not this first time, okay, sweetheart?'

'O-okay,' you mumbled as he leaned his forehead against yours.

'Did you like that?' he asked, his lips touching yours with every word he spoke.

'Yeah,' you sighed dreamily, 'I really did.'

'Good,' he smiled, 'all I want is to make you feel good.'

He kissed you passionately and didn't stop until his cock became painful, desperate to be freed from his tight boxers so he carefully asked, 'You wanna fuck, baby?'

You nodded impatiently with your desperation for him clear in your eyes, to which he smiled. He wasn't sure what exactly he was feeling inside right now, as it was new but also pleasant and he wanted to chase it, so he lifted your chin with a tap of his index finger and he kissed you deeply again, wanting this moment to last while he took off your skirt.

He continued to kiss you while he pulled out his leaking cock, giving himself a few good strokes before teasing your entrance. He knew you were desperate and he wanted to see you smile, and it worked.

'Stop teasing,' you giggled with a soft whine.

You attempted to push his hand away so you could feel him inside you, but he didn't move. Instead, he wrapped his free hand lightly around your throat, smiling as he looked down into your eyes. He then moved his hand further up and tangled his fingers in your hair, giving you a firm tug to keep your eyes locked with his.

'Or what?' Sihtric asked sweetly.

'Stop it,' you laughed and slapped his chest playfully.

'Or what?' he dared you again with a smirk as he towered over you, then politely commanded, 'open your mouth for me.'

Without any hesitation you listened and opened your mouth for him, his grip still firm on the back of your head, and you allowed him to let his spit slowly drip from between his lips and down on your tongue. You gave him your cheeky smile as you thanked him, to which he kissed you in response, a little more heated than before. Once he broke the kiss he quickly covered your mouth with his hand, silencing you as he sheathed himself entirely inside you in one smooth movement.

'Ahh, fuck,' his words were dragged out with a low moan as he stilled inside you, letting you adjust to his size which stretched you the same pleasant way as Masema had done, and you never thought you'd ever feel this full again.

You tugged his hair firmly while your other hand squeezed his bicep, digging your nails into his skin as he began to slowly thrust into you. So slowly you felt every twitch of his cock with each stroke and your moans began to sound muffled as your mouth was still covered. Sihtric removed his hand and pushed you to lay back on his desk, he took your legs and threw both over one shoulder before he grabbed onto your waist and began fucking you with a pleasantly slow and steady pace. 

Sihtric was never rough nor too soft, he had the perfect balance that wasn't fucking you senseless but also not something you'd consider making love, it was something pleasant inbetween the two. He fucked you deeply but with a certain passion, and nothing made him harder than knowing he was taking you in front of the window, in clear view of those who lived in the surrounding apartment buildings, who could see how good he made you feel without having to ravage you.

He leaned in occasionally, taking your face with one hand while he continued to thrust into you slow and deep as he kissed you and caught your soft moans in his mouth. You arched your back once he moved away from you, and he had his strong arm wrapped around your legs to keep them in place on his shoulder while he had one hand pressed down onto your stomach, feeling his cock inside you as he enjoyed how tight you felt in this position.

'You're making me cum so easily, sweet lady,' Sihtric huffed with a devilish yet soft smile.

'Then cum,' you breathed, wanting to feel his warmth spread inside you.

You looked up at him with alluring eyes, feeling dazed at the sight of his black curls sticking to his glistening face and the way his smiling lips were slightly parted, from which his soft moans and heavy breaths escaped. His eyes were hooded, his eyeliner still applied perfectly and his cheeks were a light rosy colour. He took his time with you, thrusting deep inside you so slow it made your head spin and you could only laugh your cheeky laugh in between your moans and gasps.

You experienced hard porn and soft porn, but this was neither of those. This was something entirely different, softer and slower than you'd ever felt before, and despite the slow pace it felt extremely intense you couldn't say anything that made sense. And the entire sight of you on his desk, looking like a beautiful mess as you fell apart for him while he was so gentle with you pushed Sihtric over the edge before he wanted to, but he couldn't help himself and spilled inside you with a heavy grunt. He continued thrusting into you through his own high, and he massaged your clit with his fingers to ensure your climax was just as intense and blissful as his had been when you came shortly after him.

You were left shaking on his desk, and as the adrenaline rush left your body you started to feel cold as you laid naked on his desk, while the window was slightly opened and the cool night's breeze touched your skin. Sihtric was fast to clean up and put on his boxers while you were gradually coming down from your high, and he noticed you were trembling once you finally sat up on his desk, completely naked.

'Hey,' Sihtric gently took your face as he positioned himself between your thighs again, 'are you okay?' he asked, concerned.

'Just… c-cold,' you chuckled, a little dazed still.

'Oh, sweetheart,' he whispered and quickly grabbed his flannel off the floor to drape it over your shoulders.

He then wrapped his arms around you and pressed your bare chest against his in an attempt to warm you as fast as he could, to which you smiled. You wrapped your arms around his waist, stealing his body heat, and you embraced like that for a long moment without exchanging a word, just enjoying each other's warmth, scent and touch. And Sihtric only broke the embrace to cup your cheek, so he could peck your lips sweetly, over and over again while he looked completely smitten.

'You never kiss, and yet now you can't stop?' you murmured.

He hushed you and smiled, then went in for another kiss but you teasingly backed away. Sihtric looked confused, but his smile returned quick enough once you leaned back in and nuzzled his nose softly.

'Kiss me,' he whispered pleadingly, and you kissed him passionately several times more. 

'I could kiss you all night,' he murmured against your lips once you broke the kiss.

'You're too cute,' you giggled and then finally got dressed again.

You jumped off his desk and then held out his flannel to him.

'Keep it,' Sihtric smiled.

'Are you sure?'

'Yeah, it looks good on you.'

'Thanks,' you chuckled and put his flannel over your shirt, loving the way it was comfortably oversized and smelled exactly like him, 'so, you always rehearse scripts like this?'

'No,' Sihtric laughed, 'this, eh, really got out of hand. Sorry,' he blushed.

'Don't apologise. It was really nice,' you reassured him.

'I'm glad it was nice for you too,' he said, 'it's, eh, still kinda early in the evening I suppose. Do you want a drink or something, or maybe some food? I could order us something,' he mumbled almost shyly.

'Oh,' you sighed with a smile, 'that's so sweet, baby. But I think it's best if I get going.'

'Oh, y-yeah, of course,' Sihtric cleared his throat, knowing it wasn't very professional to ask you to stay for some crappy take-out meal, but he was disappointed regardless.

You grabbed your belongings and Sihtric walked you to your car, where he took your hand before you could get in.

'Get home safe, okay?' he said, 'let me know you're home safe?'

'I will,' you kissed his cheek, and he then suddenly took your face and kissed your lips.

The kiss was long and passionate, until he abruptly pulled away with a shaky breath.

'Are you okay?' you asked, a little surprised.

'Yeah,' he sighed and gave you a weakened smile, then stopped you again as you attempted to get in your car, 'hey,' he said softly, 'don't… this line of work, it's- just promise you won't do anything against your will, okay?'

'I won't do anything I don't like,' you said, 'I promise.'

'Good,' Sihtric swallowed hard and lightly touched your face, 'you're just… you're too pure and too beautiful for this industry, sweetheart. Girls like you,' his voice trembled lightly, 'they get taken advantage of if they're not careful. Look after yourself, okay? And if you ever need anything or if there's trouble, you have my number, yeah?'

'I will be careful,' you promised and pinched his cheek to lighten his mood, which made him chuckle, 'I'll see you again soon, right?'

'I hope so.'

'I'll have my manager set up a day to shoot and all that,' you said, 'you'll hear from me.'

'Sure thing,' Sihtric said and finally allowed you to get in your car, and he then leaned on its roof while he looked down at you, 'and, well… you know where I live now. You're welcome anytime.'

'For sex you mean?' you chuckled.

'For anything, sweetheart,' he smiled and watched you start your car.

'You're too cute,' you smiled and waited for him to step away so you could close the door, but he didn't budge. 'Sihtric?' you snorted, 'I gotta close the door?'

'Oh, shit,' he laughed and pulled away, 'yeah, shit, sorry,' he stammered and then politely shut your car door and blew you a kiss before you hit the gas.

With an uneasy feeling in his stomach he watched you drive off and cursed himself for kissing you. Because he knew better than to kiss someone the way he had kissed you, and he shouldn't catch feelings for anyone in the same industry because it would always cause trouble. But he also knew it was already too late for him to not catch any feelings for you.

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[yourgentlegirlfriend]

Mentor!Reader giving Rookie!Leon a lesson in coercion... or trying to make leon give up information by any (sexual) means possible

Hi!! I’m definitely writing a part two for this because I enjoyed this request so much, and the part two will definitely have the spice. I’m obsessed with the thought of them somehow meeting again-

I hope you guys like it <3 My inbox is open im writing requests for the rest of the night!!

I know we all see Leon in RE2 as this precious baby and he still is he’s so cute, just a little toooo smart

“Focus up, Kennedy.”

A huff being heard from Leon as he went to punch at the padding at your arms again, his fist colliding with the soft cushion causing you the shake your head, putting your hand out to stop him from swinging again.

“You should be punching, hard. I want to feel it through the cushion Kennedy. Put these on.”

You handed Leon the arm cushions, his chest rising and falling as he slipped them onto his arms, your fingers laid against your palms as you looked at the red padding on his arms, your fists punching into them, causing him to jolt back before standing his ground.

You nodded your head at him, catching your breath as you tapped at the padding so he could put his arms down.

“Leon your arms are much bigger than mine, I should feel your knuckles hitting my forearm like that.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll try harder.”

Leon sigh as he wiped the sweat off his forehead, you pull the cushion off his arms and threw him his water bottle.

“Never, ever be sorry, just do better you have that potential.”

You spoke as you took a drink from your bottle, your hands resting at your hips, clapping your hands together as you finally caught your breath.

“Alright, sit down.”

Leon sat at the chair in the room, watching you walk over to the white board in the room and drag it over towards the training area. His eyes secretly running up and down your body, examining the way the muscles in your arm moved as you wrote on the white board.

“Coercion.”

You spoke underlining the word before turning back to Leon. Your eyebrows raised at him as you walked to the other side of him.

“You have the have sex with me, or I wont sign your papers to allow you out into the field.”

You said tilting your head at him. Leon sat, blinking at you as he shook his head in confusion.

“What?”

His words came out in a stutter as he watched you laugh.

“That’s Coercion. Obviously, I would never truly tell you that, but in the field you’re entering it is a mighty fine chance you will be manipulated. By many people in higher positions than you could ever be in. Or, you could fight back.”

You went to write down another word before Leon cleared his throat, making you turn back to him with raised brows.

“Isn’t it unprofessional to use sex as an example to a rookie?”

Leon asked with a small smirk, leaning forward onto his knees as he watched you stare at him.

“I don’t know what’s crazier you questioning me or you acting like you can cut me off..”

Your tone was attempting to be stern, your body leaning against the white board as you crossed one leg over another. You squinted at Leon as he shrugged, his arms reaching over his head as he stretched. Your eyes flickering over the way his muscles flexed, his head moving to the side to catch your gaze again.

“Seems I lost you”

Leon chuckled causing you to point at him with the expo marker, your cheeks flushing before you turned erasing the word off the board.

“Go on your lunch, Kennedy. And come back without the attitude.”

Leon stood, he was your rookie to train, he was all your responsibility. You taught him everything he knows.

“You told me to fight back.”

Leon walked passed you and out the double doors. Your head nodding, but you couldn’t help but smile. The kid was smart, maybe a little to smart.

———

Half asleep still, your badge hanging from your neck as you yawned pouring the fresh coffee. The station was empty today practically due to some body’s found at the big mansion in town. It was your case but you handed it down, not having the energy today.

You plopped yourself down in your chair, groaning seeing the chief put way to much paperwork on your desk.

You bit at your cheek as you saw Leon’s file laying on top. Opening it seeing his paperwork awaiting your signature, your head shook as you brought your mug to your lips, taking a sip of your coffee. Your eyes shifted up at your closed door, a soft knock being heard.

“Come in.”

You yelled as you closed the file, reaching for your pen in the cup holder on your desk. Feet shuffled through the door and a small click of it being shut was heard, your eyes shifting between your other paperwork and the shoes of the person.

“Yes Leon, what can I do for you.”

Your voice was unenthusiastic as your eyes ran over the paperwork of your two year re contract. Your hand sloppily signing on the line. His silence making you look up at Leon. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his jacket.

“Sorry are you busy?”

He pulled out the chair in front of your desk, sitting down. He was a sweet kid, and when you first started training him he always nudged you about how you were only two years older yet you treated him like a child. Though you’re hard on him, he is gonna make one good cop. He is so driven, and his heart is in the right place.

“Not to busy, I thought you’d be with the chief checking out that case.”

You asked as you tossed him his file, his name printed on it. Leon shrugged as he pushed the file open, his finger tapping at the empty line.

“No signature?”

You nodded your head as you leaned back in your chair, the two of you staring at each other, his jaw tight. Leon let out a chuckle as he closed the file pushing it towards you.

“It’s either you sign it, or I tell the chief you asked to have sex with me.”

A laugh roared from your chest as you reached over grabbing your coffee.

“Real funny Kennedy.”

The liquid ran down your throat, but his face was straight. You choked on the coffee, coughing as you tapped your chest. You cleared your throat.

“Leon, this isn’t an appropriate conversation to be having with my rookie-”

“You’re two years older than me. Calm down.”

Anger bubbled in your chest as you glared at him. Your fingers prying the file open, your eyes never leaving his, only to find the line and scribble your name down on all the papers before throwing the file at him.

“Get the fuck out of my office.”

Now he was to fucking cocky. His smirk more than visible as he grabbed at the paperwork, standing. Leon would’ve been lying if he said he wasn’t hoping the conversation ended with you bent over your desk, your hair messy, whining his name. He was obsessed with you, even if you were mean at times he knew you cared and that’s what had him so attached to you. Eventually, time will tell, and he would eventually get what he wanted. He always did.

Watching his back as he walked out the door, your legs crossing before you smirked shaking your head. Coercion. Smart kid used your own teachings against you, and you fell right into it.

[mostlymarvelsstuff]

For the romantic dialogue prompt 11. “Don’t make me say it. I can’t say the words.” Nat is in love with reader but doesn’t want to say it because she doesn’t think reader will feel the same/she’s insecure and doesn’t think she deserves reader. Ofc reader loves Nat (who wouldn’t?) and they get together and live happily ever after. lots of hurt/comfort

Authors note: sorry its so late, but I hope you enjoy it!

Authors note 2.0: requests are still closed. I’m trying to clear my inbox before opening them again. Thank you for your patience 💖

Word count: 3251 Nat Masterlist Marvel Masterlist

 Natashas heart hammers in her chest as she runs down the compound's various hallways. The quinjet landed only minutes ago so she's racing to make it to the med bay where she knows the team, and therefore you will be.

   As she enters through the double doors the sound of Peter sniffling coupled with the crestfallen looks on Tony and Clints faces tell her all her worst fears are coming true, and she almost doesn’t want to face that. But she knows she has to. If not for herself, then for you. She can be strong for you.

   “How- how is she?” 

   Tony lowers his gaze, “Not good. She got hit really hard out there.”

   “We honestly didn’t think we’d get her back in time. She's very lucky.” Clint admits, looking at Nat in a way the billionaire had never seen before. If he had to describe it he’d say it  was a mix of stern disappointment yet hopeful encouragement. How a person can combine those looks is beyond him, but he's sure it's some sort of signal. A way for the two spies to communicate without words like they so often do.

   “Y/ns strong.” the redhead proclaims, trying to calm herself, “She’ll be ok.”

   Clint looks away from her then too and she can feel her stomach drop and her mouth go dry at his lack of agreement and comfort. She swallows harshly, desperate to keep her tears at bay. If she doesn't cry then she can act like this doesn’t affect her, like none of this is really happening. You aren’t in some operating room right now hanging on against the odds, fighting for your life. She's not head over heels in love with you, desperate to be yours and be by your side forever…But you are, and she is.

   She very much is, and right now she can’t help but feel like an absolute moron. Despite her fears and insecurities she should have risked it. Maybe then she would have had time with you. To hold you, to cherish and love you and get the same from you in return. But now…no, no she can’t think like that. You’ll be ok. You have to be, because if you're not, then she won’t be. 

   “I’m so sorry Miss Romanoff” Peter whimpers, and her head swivels to look at him, “I really messed up. Y/ns hurt because of me….I’m so so sorry”

   Natasha doesn’t know what happened out there, but she knows your affinity for the boy, how you became attached to him nearly the second Tony brought him in. So much so that your protectiveness for him rivals the fatherly instincts the billionaire himself has for the young hero. And she knows Peter, she's been training him, so she knows him better than he even thinks she does. He doesn’t always watch his six and he would never hurt a teammate on purpose, least of all you. This was an accident. Sometimes missions just went wrong, it wasn’t anyone's fault but the enemies and she knows you wouldn’t want Peter to be blaming himself for this.

    “Malen'kiy pauk(little spider), Y/n would do anything to keep you safe. Whatever happened was not your fault, because you've done nothing wrong.” 

   Faster than humanly possible Peter launches himself into her arms, and as his head comes to rest against her shoulder she finally lets her resolve crumble. Hot tears run down her cheeks faster than she ever thought imaginable, and she hopes Peter can't feel the sheer volume that's landing against his neck, though she knows he wouldn't say anything about it even if he did.

   “She's hurt really bad” Peter whimpers out through his sobs, “She might be dying”

   Natasha desperately shakes her head, “No. She'll pull through.”

   A few moments of silence pass before she's brave enough to speak again, “She…she’ll pull through. She has to. I- I need her to be ok.”

   Finally Clint comes over and wraps his arms around the two of them. He knows by the way Natasha trembles that she’s close to her absolute breaking point. And he's not sure that she’d be comfortable being that vulnerable in front of Tony and Peter, even if the genius absolutely knew about the not so secret pining. And of course the teen had his own suspicions. Nat was secretive when it came to emotions, and she had her reasons to be. So he’ll do what he can to help her keep some comfort.

   She clutches onto the archers shirt as if it were her lifeline, and he tentatively squeezes her shoulder to prove he's there for her. He’ll be her rock whenever she needs him to be, it's been this way since she opened up to him all those years ago and he’ll happily let it stay that way until the very end. He considers it an honor that she trusts him enough to let him see this perceived weaker version of herself.

    “Tell me she'll pull through Clint, please.”  

   He sighs, the answer won’t be what she wants to hear and it will break her further, but he owes the truth to her. He can’t give her false hope. She needs to be prepared. “I wish I could Nat, truly. But she really was in a really bad state when we got her here. If Tony hadn’t flown her here from the quinjet I don’t know if she would have been breathing”

   Sure enough a sob escapes her, and her trembling only worsens as Peter all but collapses against her. Clint holds them up to the best of his ability while sparing an urgent glance in Tony's direction. The older man quickly makes his way over to the three and gently loops his arms under Peters.

   “C'mon kid. I got ya. Let's get you sitting down, alright?” 

   Peter only manages to nod as Tony walks away with him, leading him back to where he’d first been sat. Natasha allows Clint to fully envelope her in his embrace then, and she finds the guilt of all the possibilities that could have been between the two of you is crashing down on her shoulders with the weight of cinder blocks.

   “I never told her” she whispers into his chest, and he doesn’t ask for clarification because he knows all too well what she means. He'd been trying to convince her to admit her feelings for years now, “I need more time…I just wasn’t ready, but I should have pushed myself. I should have found a way to make her understand even if I can’t say the words.”

   He pulls back from her, places his hands on both her shoulders and looks her dead in the eyes, “Then Natasha, if she makes it through this, that's exactly what you do, ok? You march in there and you do whatever you have to to get your chance.”

   Her lower lip quivers, “B- but what do I do if she doesn’t? What if…what if I never get my chance because I was a coward?”

   “Oh honey” he coos, pulling her back into a hug, “You were scared. Scared to be loved and to be vulnerable. Scared Y/n wouldn't feel the same. Scared that you wouldn’t know what to do. Scared you didn’t deserve her. And all these are normal feelings somebody has in this kinda situation. Unfortunately the circumstances of your past made those fears even worse for you, that doesn’t make you a coward.”

   She looks at him, tears streaming down her reddened face with her lower lip trembling. His heart sinks in his chest seeing her like this. So open and with her feelings, so scared to lose you. He gently wipes her cheeks with his calloused thumbs, “You're the strongest and bravest person I know Nat.”

   “I second that statement” Tony speaks up from next to the teen, “And I’m lab partners with the Hulk so i know a thing or two about strength.”

   His reply gets a small twitch of her lip and roll of her eyes in response, and he knows that with the way she feels right now that those actions were worth more than a Hollywood actor's showstopping grin. And the fact that he was able to gain that response makes him beam with pride. He cheered her up, if only just a tiny smidge, but he’d gladly take it.

   Before anything else can be said by anyone the med bays main doors open, and a doctor steps through. Natashas attention is on him at once, and she quickly approaches, “Is Y/n- er, Agent Y/l/n alright?”

   “We’ve got her stable now. It was touch and go there for a bit. Her heart stopped on us once but- ”  That's all she registers beforese zones out of the conversation. The same words playing on repeat are all she can focus on.  Her heart stopped. 

   You had died. If anything had happened to slow the quinjet down and keep it from bringing you in then the doctors wouldn't have been there to revive you, and instead of worrying in the med bay she would have been mourning your loss at the landing platform. And that fact terrifies her.

   She isn’t even aware that she zoned out for as long as she had until Tony's hand grasps her shoulder, “Nat?”

  “W- what?” she stutters, blinking her previous thoughts away while looking around, “I’m sorry”

   The doctor nods in understanding, “It’s alright. Agent Y/l/n was successfully resuscitated and though she's currently stable she's still in critical condition. She's still sedated, so that coupled with her original trauma will most likely keep her unconscious for at least the rest of today and potentially into tomorrow.”

   “But she’ll be ok, right?” she asks, needing to hear something hopeful

   “I'm afraid it’s still too early to tell. For now all we can do is wait and see if she makes it through the night. But if she wakes we can properly assess her.”

  The Russian can feel her chest tighten, “If…if she wakes? I don’t understand?”

   “She acquired a lot of head trauma. Alone that trauma is enough to potentially keep her comatose, but when you add in the use of anesthesia that risk becomes even higher.” he explains, “Now normally we wouldn’t have used any, but with her multiple stab wounds we were left with no other options.” 

   Her lower lip trembles as she swallows the lump in her throat, “Can I see her? Please?”

  He nods, “Follow me”

   When she arrives in your room a feeling of nausea fills her. The room is dull, with its lights dimmed and blinds closed but she can still see you clearly. Your skin is paler than normal, lacking its usual glow and she can already see the swelling and bruising settling in on your face, arms and collarbone. The steady beating of the heart monitor is the only noise that fills the small room, and while normally such a noise would put her on edge she finds it calms her this time, because it tells her that you're still here. You're alive.

   Tears roll down her cheeks as her hand makes its way to yours, “Y/n, I...I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m here. I’m right here dorogoy(sweetheart), so please don’t go anywhere.”

   As the hours pass by she continues to sit with you, she's too afraid to leave your side or let you out of her sight. She worries that if she allows either of those things, then the worst will happen to you. Which rationally she knows is ridiculous, her presence and vigilante watch wouldn’t be enough to stop death from taking you if that's truly what was in store for you. But still, being here with you gives her some small comfort and right now she needs all the comfort she can get. 

   At some point she had fallen asleep, it had been rather restless as she didn’t want to risk sleeping through anything that may occur, so she forced herself to stay out of her REM cycle. So what little rest she did manage couldn’t even be classified as such really, but it did end up working the way she intended it to. 

   The faint beeping that she'd become accustomed to suddenly picks up in speed slightly, and her eyes immediately shoot open. She quickly scans the machine to make sure it wasn't malfunctioning and once satisfied they move to you. Nothing appears different, at least not in a bad way. Your skin seems to have gained back a bit more of its natural color and though this relieves her she's still uncertain about your heart rate. Before she can worry any more, a nurse enters.

   “What's going on? Is she ok?”

   The nurse smiles kindly at her while checking your chart, “She's doing just fine Agent Romanoff, the slight increase in heart rate is a good thing. It means she's trying to wake up”

   Natasha can’t hide the excitement that takes over her features, and she grabs your hand once more, “Pozhaluysta, vernis' ko mne. Ty mne nuzhen zdes'(Please come back to me. I need you here.)”

   As if hearing, and understanding, her whispered words, your eyelids begin to flutter and though the room is nearly completely dark you still groan at the way the light affects your sensitive eyes. Sensitive or not though there's no mistaking that bright red hair, or who it belongs to. Even if her form is a bit blurry.

   “Uggh…Nat?” you rasp out, and she immediately moves closer

   “I’m right here” she responds, hoping you don’t notice the tears rolling down her cheeks, “How are you feeling?”

   “Like shit”  

   Your honest reply pulls a laugh from her and she gently squeezes your hand as the nurse walks over to your other side to begin checking you over. Once she's done with her various tests and writing notes in her chart she leaves the room, leaving you alone with the Russian you've come to love. Your eyes glance at your hand to see that your suspicions are correct, the weight you feel in your hand is indeed her own. You gently squeeze it before allowing your gaze to meet hers.

   “You've been crying” you state, allowing your free hand to brush against her reddened cheek. The way she nuzzles her face into your palm takes you by surprise, but you allow to seek comfort this way and cup her cheek. You watch in awe as her whole body relaxes at this embrace

   “I thought…I thought I was going to lose you” she admits in a whisper and her lower lip trembles as she closes her eyes. Despite this another tear slips down her face, but you quickly brush it away. A small whimper leaves her at this gesture, and she leans further into your hand

   And that's when things start to click. Sure, you've had your suspicions that the Russian spy had feelings for you, but she's so closed off to emotions that it's hard to get an accurate read on her. If you were reading too much into her friendship and just projecting your own feelings you didn’t want to make things awkward by confessing your love for her, so you stayed quiet. Those suspicions never quite went away though. And now yearn to know if there's any validation to your thoughts.

   “Nat, I- ” you start to talk but she cuts you off with a shake of her head

   “No Y/n, you don’t understand. When you got here, your heart stopped. You….you died” she trembles slightly, “And you never would have known…”

   You look at her softly, the weight of what she said sinking in. You knew the dangers of this job when you took it, still you're glad to be alive and you can’t help but feel guilty for what Natasha has gone through since you decided to throw caution to the wind and blow your own cover in a means to get attention away from a stuttering and fumbling Peter that had just raised suspicion by admitting to be a Stark Industries intern. 

   “What wouldn’t I have known?”

   She thought that by now, after everything she'd be able to get those three words out, but when she tries her throat goes impossibly dry and her mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. 

   “I-  I…” she huffs, “Don’t make me say it. I can’t say the words.”

  You smile at her sympathetically, “How about you show me then? Think you can do that?”

   She eagerly nods her head, desperate to prove to you how much she cares. She moves even closer and you remove your hand from her face to give her full freedom of movement. She removes her hand from yours and gently cups your face. Her thumb brushes over a small bruise while her other hand tucks a stray hair behind your ear, and her eyes swim with a multitude of emotions as they take in your appearance close up. She takes one last deep breath and surges forward, allowing her lips to meet yours.

   It's sloppy, full of desperation and tears, but it's also full of other things too. Regret, fear, and most importantly, love. She finds she needs air far too quickly for her liking so she relents in breaking the kiss. She doesn't move away though, instead she rests her forehead against yours and lets her nose bump yours too. You melt against her, grateful for her open show of affection, her way of saying she loves you without having to actually say it. That will come when she's ready, and you won’t push.

   “I love you too Natasha”

   She gives you a wide watery smile, gratefully that you not only understood her gesture but that you felt the same way she does. She carefully and quickly crawls into the bed next to you and gently wraps an arm around you as she buries her face against your neck.

   “I was so scared” she admits as your own arm wraps around her waist

   “I can imagine. But I’m ok, Natty. I’m here and I’ve got you.”

   She sniffles, “You promise?”

   You tighten your hold on her and plant a kiss to the top of her head, “I promise”

   She nods against you but you can tell she's still not fully at ease. To help calm her fears you take the hand that's around your waist and place it on your chest. She can feel each strong beat of the muscle under your sternum and it's only then that she relaxes against you.

   “You're ok” she says, more to herself than you

   “Mhm, I’m ok” you reply, “Great actually, now that I have you”

   She moves her face away from your neck to look at you with a softness you've never seen before but know is only reserved only for you, “You mean that?”

   “Of course I do. This is all I’ve ever wanted, you're all I ever wanted.” She smiles widely before settling against you once more, kissing your collarbone affectionately and you somehow know what that means, “Love you too Natty, love you too.”

   By the time Clint comes to check in he finds you both fast asleep, intertwined with each other in the small hospital bed, and he happily smiles because you were ok, and now all was as it should be. 

Taglist:@wandaromamoff69 @mmmmokdok @nataliasknife @natashasilverfox @when-wolves-howl @danveration @naomi-m3ndez @sheneonromanoff @sayah13 @likefirenrain @nighttime-dreaming @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @readings-stuff @chaoticevilbakugo @crystalstark02 @wackymcstupid @xchaiix @iaminluvwithnat @lovelyy-moonlight @blackwidow-3 @mistressofinsomnia @that-one-gay-mosquito @yomamagf @yourfavdummy @justarandomreaderxoxo @scoutlp23-blog @whoischanelle15 @lissaaaa145 @eline03 @wizardofstories @imthenatynat @marvelonmymind @fluffyblanketgecko @bitch-616 @dakotastormm  @zoomdeathknight @rayeofmoonlight

[hwaslayer]

project: make you love me (jyh) | two.

♣︎ spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: yunho can’t stand how you’re so wrapped up in the notorious campus fuckboy, park seonghwa. he would gladly love you the way you deserve, despite being shy, awkward and the complete opposite of seonghwa. thus, when he finds himself spending more time with you over literature reviews and random study sessions, he decides to take on the challenge to win you over.

—pairing: jeong yunho x f. reader x park seonghwa

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers/friends to lovers, college au | fluff, angst, (eventual) smut

—word count: 3.6k

—chapter content/warnings: nothing too bad since we're still in the beginning stages of things lol, cussing, friends being supportive, friends being instigators and projecting!!, hwa still being hwa, yunho being shy and awkward but very caring

You scrambled to get your literature review done, almost forgetting that you had to send it to Yunho before officially submitting it to your professor. It's a bit past midnight when Seonghwa decides it's time to drop you off— even if it gets incredibly late, he'd prefer to drop you off at home rather than let you stay.

All Seonghwa's bullshit plans.

You yawn as you quietly step into your shared apartment, careful not to wake your roommates as you pull out your laptop and finish your lit review on the kitchen island in the dark. It fucking sucks that absolutely nothing is coming to you for this review because now, Yunho is probably going to think you're just flat out dumb for not being able to see what everyone else sees.

"Hey." You whip your head up so fast you almost give yourself whiplash. Seungmin groggily walks out of his room and into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water. "Why are you working out here in the dark? Did you just get home?" You nod.

"Mhm. Forgot I had to finish that literature review and send it to Yunho."

"Forgot already?"

"Shut up, okay? Not my favorite assignment to work on. Besides, I wanna give him some time to review it and chew my ass if he needs to. Rather him than Dr. Nelson at this point." You type away, probably hella nonsense and gibberish about the movie at this point.

"Hm." Seungmin hums as he quickly drinks his water. "Don't stay up too late."

"I won't. Just gonna give this a few more words then send it off." You sigh. God, you almost regret asking Yunho [out of all people] for help. He's super smart and he always knows what he's doing. Was this the right route to go? Maybe you should've just asked Dr. Nelson and dealt with it.

"Mkay. Goodnight then, Y/N." Seungmin yawns as he drags himself back to his shared room with Soobin. You decide that you're gonna take another 10 minutes to finish off the review, giving it everything you can think of right now. If it needs tweaking or any additional details, Yunho can surely step in and help. You feel exhaustion hitting you quickly, giving your review the last bout of energy you have left before you shower and call it a night.

"Done." You say to yourself, sending it off to Yunho as an attachment. 

He probably won't look at this until later.

You make sure to double check your emails and assignments, keeping track of everything that's due and needs to be turned in—

Ding.

You peep the notification that pops up on the bottom right of your laptop screen.

"1 New Email from: Jeong Yunho (jeongyh@kq.edu)"

"What the fuck?" You mutter to yourself. It hasn't been a whole 10 minutes since you sent the email. You click on the notification anyway, letting it bring you to the new email in your student inbox.

— do you have time to meet really quickly later today? i wanna go over your review with you. cool if you can't though, just prefer to talk to you in person instead of marking up your page without any explanation to back it up.

You sigh and sit there, trying to remember your schedule for tomorrow. You do have a 45 minute break in between your morning classes. Hopefully, he's free.

— sure! i'm free from 10:15-11. does that work for you?

"1 New Email from Jeong Yunho (jeongyh@kq.edu)"

— yup, i don't have class till after lunch. i'll be working at one of the booths in the library.

You sit back and respond, feeling a bit of relief.

— cool, see you. :) thanks for your help.

Yunho sits at his desk, feeling a bit awkward and nervous even though you can't see him right now. It's probably a little pathetic at how quick he opened up your email, but to be fair, you seemed like you really needed the help and that's what he wanted to give you. You aren't necessarily writing bad reviews, since you're hitting all the right points. But, he has Dr. Nelson figured out. He doesn't want just the facts— he wants you to think outside of the box, write out the emotions, feelings, outcomes of all the actions, give examples, state what your thoughts are on how this effects the surroundings, other characters. You just need to add that little umph to your reviews and give him more than the bare minimum. Yunho gets it though, it's not easy to tap into that all the time. That's why he's here to help. 

He's hoping he can be the help you need.

"Did you come in pretty late last night or was Seungmin sleep walking?" Soobin scratches the side of his head as the two of you walk towards the library.

"No, that was me." You chuckle.

"Did Seonghwa at least walk you to the door? Cause that's late."

"Yeah right." You scoff and Soobin shakes his head. "Whatever though, he drops me off as close as possible to our building."

"Still. He should at least walk you halfway."

"Mm, yeah." Is all you respond with. "Anyway, lunch later? I have to meet with Yunho to talk about this review."

"Oh? You're actually meeting with him? That's new. I feel like that's something out of the ordinary for Yunho."

"He asked if we could so that he could explain better instead of just marking up my review." 

"That's nice of him."

"Yeah, hopefully I'm not too much of a pain in the ass."

"Doubt it. You just need a little guidance, that's all. Sure he'll be super helpful." Soobin smirks. "He seems to not go out of his way for people, maybe he likes you."

"Are you serious right now? All because I need help over a literature review." Soobin laughs.

"Just saying. I already like Yunho way more than Seonghwa."

"Okay, I'm leaving. I'll see you later." You roll your eyes and enter the quieter side of the library where the booths are located. It's easy to spot Yunho, especially with that towering figure of his even while sitting. Today, he's wearing a navy and white flannel, with a grey shirt underneath. His hair falls to his face as he leans over to write some notes. He has one finger placed on a page in his textbook, while the other hand is busily writing away. He glances to and from every now and then, only looking up at his surroundings when he feels you approaching.

"Um, hi." You awkwardly stand near the booth with your books tucked against your chest. He simply looks at you before giving you a tiny, pursed smile and returning his attention to his books.

"Hey." He moves his book and notebook closer to himself in order to give you some room. "Sorry, just need to finish this right quick."

"That's okay. Take your time." You slide in awkwardly and set your books on the surface of the table. "Thanks for going over my review."

"No worries." He says softly before finishing up his notes and shutting his books closed. He brings out his laptop and types away to unlock it, pulling up your document before turning the laptop towards you. "So."

"Sorry, I know it was bad." You look at him, a little shy and embarrassed. He tilts his head a bit and furrows his brow while looking at you.

"Huh? No, it wasn't bad, Y/N." He lets out a small chuckle. "You're hitting the right points, Dr. Nelson is just super complex and wants you to use these facts a bit more." He points at a line in your review. "You talk about the characters feelings here after an upsetting moment, which is right. But, how does it affect their surroundings? Their actions, the people around them, what they get themselves into to cope. How does feeling bad branch out to all these things? Why? How does it contribute to their overall attitude, to the overall character?" You nod. 

"It seems so easy to talk about, but I don't know why I have so much trouble doing it. I feel kinda dumb." He shrugs.

"You're not. You just have to dig into the details a little more and use those examples instead of staying safe and stating what we know already. It's easy to stay safe because you know what you're stating is gonna be right. Dr. Nelson just wants a little more than that, is all."

"Thanks, Yunho." He gives you a toothless smile.

"Of course. Uh," He scratches his temple. "Let's go through everything else? So, I can be of better help to you?" You nod.

"Only if you're okay with it."

"Yeah. Just wanna make sure I help you out correctly." He lets out a shy chuckle before thoroughly going through your literature review with you. He asks you the right questions, allowing you to edit your own document on his laptop while the two of you continue to converse. He shares his thoughts and the things he's included on his review, making it easier for you to understand what you were missing and leaving out in your own.

Literature was never your favorite. You partially didn't care enough to put in enough effort, hence the lack of patience and understanding with the assignments— the lack of patience and understanding with your own professor.

As 11 closes in, you sit and look at your fully edited review feeling content. You look at Yunho, a small toothless smile on your face while he awkwardly glances around the library to avoid long eye contact. He gently taps his hands against the surface of the table, waiting for you to break the silence.

Which, you eventually do.

Thank god.

"Yunho, I feel so much better about this." You slide the laptop over to him. "Thanks for helping me, seriously. I don't know what I'd do if I had to see Dr. Nelson's comments again."

"It's not a problem." He shrugs. "I um, can continue to look at your reviews if you want?" Your eyes light up as you nod delightfully.

"Really?"

"Sure."

"I have to repay you somehow, that's too much on your plate isn't it?"

"It's not. I wouldn't offer if it was." He chuckles a bit.

"Lunch one day?"

"You don't have to."

"I would like to. Or, if our schedules don't work, we can always meet for coffee and go in on the café desserts."

"Sounds good." He smiles and pulls out his phone to slide it towards you. "Mm, do you think I can grab your number? Sorry, don't mean to be lame about it. I just figured it'd be easier instead of emailing each other. Unless that's what you.. prefer?" You chuckle and shake your head.

"No, this is totally easier. Don't worry." You plug your number in before sliding it back to me. "There."

"That's me." He says after giving you a quick ring so you can save his number on your own phone. You start to gather your things to start heading to class when you hear a familiar laugh come from one of the aisles to your right. You turn over your shoulder to catch wind of the noise, finding Seonghwa deep in conversation with another classmate, another senior girl [actually this one is probably Hyeri?] She seems to be laughing at his jokes, even though they probably aren't that funny. Somehow, the way he looks at her [along with any other female who isn't you] breaks your heart.

Breaks your heart even though there isn't anything else left to break.

Seonghwa briefly makes eye contact with you before his eyes quickly dart to Yunho, then back to Hyeri in front of him. You quietly continue to gather your things and swallow the lump forming in your throat, unsure why you allow this feeling to completely ruin your mood. Yunho takes note, for sure though. Again, he's not sure if he should feel bad because you surely knew what it was like getting tangled with Seonghwa. That was no secret on campus. However, he's an empath, and seeing that you've been kind and calm around him— he can't help but feel bad. A tiny bit sad, upset even, that you continue to let yourself mess around with Seonghwa when you deserve so much more.

Yunho challenges Seonghwa a bit though, letting his eyes linger on him until Seonghwa breaks away first. He checks on you and parts his lips slightly because he wants to say something, anything— he's just not sure what. Eventually, he settles with:

"Are you okay?" It's clear you're not and Yunho immediately feels stupid as fuck for settling with that question.

"Hm, yeah. Just tired, is all." He nods, watching as you slide out of the booth and swing your bag strap over your shoulder.

"Don't hesitate to text me if you need anything else. I'll try and help." When he says it, he's hoping you can catch onto the fact that he's someone who could listen to your troubles. He's not good with words or opening up to people, but he thinks he could at least offer that after seeing the way you sank in front of him. His eyes dart back up to you when you tuck your books back to your chest and smile at him.

"I will. Thanks again, Yunho. Lunch or coffee soon, okay?" You say sweetly before leaving him back to his lonesome. 

"How was your date with Yunho?" Soobin asks as he forks his salad and takes a big bite. You glare at him before shaking your head.

"This is how rumors spread, you idiot." Chaery smacks him on the back of the head, making him laugh but slightly wince in pain at the same time.

"I'll whoop your ass if you say that word and Yunho in the same sentence one more time." You roll your eyes. "My literature review session with him went fine. He did help me out a lot, practically added another page to my review from all the edits we made."

"That's good." Soobin says, laughing. "Are you gonna have him review your literature stuff from now on?"

"Probably, it comes so easy for him. Or, maybe I just lack the patience." You shrug. "But, his help would definitely be nice. I need to push my grade up."

"Mhm." Soobin wiggles his brows.

"He's pushing this Yunho agenda so much." You point at Soobin while looking at Chaery and she shrugs.

"I mean don't get me wrong, I'm on the same bloat." You glare at her. "But, I'm on your side more than anything!" She quickly bounces back, making you sigh.

"I give up." You mumble as you rest your chin on the palm of your hand. Suddenly, your phone vibrates off to the side, making you lazily tap your screen to see who the notification is from.

"Better not be Seonghwa." You glare at Chaery once again.

"I'm taking this to the couch." You stick your tongue out before grabbing your phone and walking over to the couch in the living room. Because it's not, and you don't really wanna deal with your teasing friends even more.

yunho: btw, i like this website if i don't really wanna dig too deep into the details

yunho: it's a good website that summarizes a lot of the themes in books, and they have a huge catalog

You smile and respond back, feeling appreciative that he thought of you.

yunho: srry for the triple text, hope i didnt bother

you: you didn't. thank you, yunho :) i'll bookmark this that way i won't have to bother you so much lol

yunho: you're not a bother haha but np. have a good night!

you: you too!

Then, another comes in. And of course it's Seonghwa. But, the message isn't your typical message, no. It's a message that easily rubs you the wrong way because why? Why does Seonghwa like to pull this shit?

seonghwa: since when did you talk to jeong yunho? lol

you: why does it matter?

seonghwa: it's a simple question?

you: you're ridiculous, you know? we're in the lit same class. again, not that it matters .. ?

seonghwa: how am i ridiculous? lol

you: whatever seonghwa

seonghwa: why are you upset, baby? i'm just asking. i don't see what yunho's point is

you: he has no point, he's just helping me out.

seonghwa: okay, sure lol do you wanna come over? could use your company ): 

you: not tonight

you: maybe you can call hyeri, or whatever her name is. i'm spending time with my roommates

seonghwa: baby, seriously? i was talking to a classmate. can we not fight over dumb shit again?

you: goodnight seonghwa

You sigh out of irritation, tossing your phone aside. It's a bit close to 10pm, but you feel like getting some fresh air and taking a quick walk around the complex would do you some good. 

"Chaery, can we take a walk?" She looks at you and nods.

"Sure."

"What about me?" Soobin asks with a mouth full.

"You're eating."

"I can take it with me."

"It's girl talk." He cringes a bit and shakes his head.

"Nevermind. Be safe, come back soon." You chuckle just as Chaery walks out of your shared room in a hoodie. She has one of your jackets in your hand, handing it over as she gets closer.

"It's a bit cold tonight. Jacket?" 

"Thanks." You smile at her as you throw it on and zip it up, sliding into your slippers before walking out. Chaery is right; the air is colder, crisp. It has a little bite, especially against your skin. Chaery wraps her arm around yours, pulling you close for extra body heat.

"What happened, babe?"

"Huh?"

"You told Soobin it was girl talk." You laugh a bit and nod.

"Oh yeah, right. It is." You sigh as you hold her close. "Nothing, it's just Seonghwa. He texted me just to ask when I started talking to Yunho and what his point was. Got on my nerve."

"Ew, what's his problem? Y/N, seriously. You can do so much better than him. I know it's not easy, and I know he has his moments with you. But baby, you deserve someone who is always sure about you and who will be happy to flaunt you off."

"I know." You sigh. "It's like every time I think about leaving, he does something to keep me close."

"But, it shouldn't be this way, you know? You shouldn't have to wait for these moments. It should happen every day if he really cared about you."

"Yeah." Is all you can say because what can you say? It's hard to break it off with Seonghwa because this is your routine, something you've gotten used to— his presence is something you've gotten accustomed to. Even if it he isn't necessarily the best, he keeps you company. The kind of company that you like.

"How was meeting up with Yunho? Did he help you with your review?"

"A lot. He is super helpful, and he offered to keep helping me."

"Aw." Chaery giggles. "That is so sweet of him."

"He's actually really kind, and patient. I offered to take him out for lunch or something one day."

"Cute. Yeah, you should! Get to know him. Maybe he just needs a little pushing out of his shell, you know? You could probably help him in return." You shrug.

"Maybe? He's still—" Suddenly, Chaery's eyes shoot up to the figure ahead. She does a little gasp before making a cute noise and dragging you closer.

"Yunho!" She says, waving at him. He looks a little startled, but he stops in his tracks and waits with his hands in his pockets— a shy, small smile creeping at the corner of his lips. "Wait, oh my god! I didn't realize you lived here, too! I mean, so does the majority of campus, but still!" You sure as hell didn't know either, and you feel a bit bad that you just probably never noticed. 

"Uh, yeah. I just live over there." He points at his building.

"Who do you live with?"

"Kang Yeosang." Chaery nods.

"Ah, cute. What a pair." You give her a look before shifting your attention back to Yunho. He quietly waits for the next part of the conversation, his eyes softly gazing over you. 

You're cute.

"What are you doing out here this late?"

"Could ask the same for you two." He chuckles and nervously scratches at the nape of his neck. "I, uh, can't sleep sometimes. The walk kinda helps."

"Ah, I see. Makes sense."

"So.." He awkwardly says, shifting weight from one foot to another. "Also couldn't sleep?" You shrug.

"We just needed to get out and get some air." Chaery cuts in for a follow-up to avoid any Seonghwa talk. Though, she knows Yunho wouldn't do that to you. 

"It's getting late though, and pretty cold."

"We're just gonna walk to the end then walk back."

"Hm, okay." 

"It was nice running into you." Chaery smiles. "I hope you can get some rest tonight!"

"Hopefully. Have a good night." He looks at her, then you; he gives you a very tiny, very subtle nod of acknowledgement. With that, the two of you walk past to continue your walk, Chaery praising how gentle and good-looking Yunho is until the end of the walk. Yunho knows the community is safe, but he cuts his walk short just to head up to his building and get a better view of yours. He hangs over the railing near the stairs, catching sight of you and Chaery. He watches as you circle back around to your building, slowly heading up the stairs. He can hear your laughs from where he stands, and he's glad you seem to be okay tonight.

It's good that you have great friends by your side.

When your figures disappear into the hallway, Yunho feels content, relieved— knowing you've both made it safely home. He turns on his heel to make it to his own apartment, greeted by a dark living room with echoes of Yeosang yelling at his PC.

At least you're okay. 

At least you're not outside, waiting in the cold.

At least you're with good company.

♣︎ taglist: @s-nsanshine @soupbinlily @tyongff-ff @jiminiscricket @g1g1l @staytinyinmybpack @woomyteez @gfksz @bitchwhytho @savluvsmingi @thisisntmyrightera @hyukssunflower @miriamxsworld @tmtxtf @kuromibabe04 @lmnhead @carrietwrites @tournesol155 @persphonesorchid @txt-yaomi @marsattacks @mxnsxngie [bold = can’t tag 😭]

[sweaterkittensahoy]

I found your post about inbox empty and no camp requests literally five minutes after opening the tumblr post episode 8. Were you summoned? Was I? Who cares.

I haven’t had the time to properly comment on your 2buck sexy prompt fill but please do know I will BECAUSE IT HAS BEEN LIVING RENT FREE IN MY HEAD. So fucking well written (pace, words, characterizations, aaaaah). I ramble, sorry.

Back to the point at hand, PROMPT(s) for my two favorite idiots (Buck/Bucky):

- post war bliss, let’s heal the boys a bit and give them their happiness

- set whenever, possessive Gale (boy is 100% unhinged, called it day 1 when Greenland tower control told him to circle back and he just floored it like a goddamn pro)

- magpie behavior John, he just collects stuff for Gale and brings it to him, it’s a character trait (bikes, shit needed to make a crystal radio, boy just does)

- observer Gale, he just loves the physicality John moves in when he’s in Major mode and when he gets the rare chance to look without being seen or having to worry what is seen on his face he just looks and lets himself feel it

- talismans, I love the idea of both of them having something that means ‘I am of my beloved and my beloved is of mine’

- literally whatever other sexy scenario you can concoct, your whiskey one has rewired a couple of circuits in my brain

- soulmarks, on the basis that I’m a sucker for them

Bonus for good ole Benny De Marco as Gale’s keeper when John isn’t around while at the same time John’s handler when Gale’s not there (ngl this is because of the way Buck yells De Marco’s name in the pilot, my boys are MATES™️).

I am afraid I single-handedly murdered your inbox, please forgive me.

Thank you in advance and cheers ✨❤️

(These are all amazing, and I would like to encourage anyone who is reading this and gets an idea from one of these to write you one of the ones I don't [or write the one I did but as your own thing!])

In the barracks, each bed comes with a side table. It has a drawer and a lamp. Most of the boys keep a photo of a loved one on the top, a skin mag in the drawer, and whatever they carry in their pockets each day next to the photo.

Buck's is different because he keeps whatever he carries in his pockets in the drawer, and on the table itself is a collection of random objects that look like he's collecting odds and ends with no real sense. Amongst the clutter are the following things:

A skeleton key with a filigree 'G' carved into the head.

A rock that shines when the sunlight hits it during the day.

A broken bracelet made of blue stones.

A tiny piece of foil shaped into an oak leaf cluster.

The first time a replacement asks about it--because Major Cleven doesn't seem the type to collect odds and ends--Demarco barks a laugh and buys the replacement a drink.

"It's not Cleven's collection. Well, it is. But it's not."

The replacement stares at Demarco. "Uh-huh. Clear as mud."

Demarco sighs. "They're all his, but he didn't pick them, okay?"

"That's no clearer."

Demarco shrugs. "You'll figure it out."

A week later, the replacement is reading in his bunk when Major Egan walks in, giggly and flushed from drinking. He drops hard onto Major Cleven's bed. Major Cleven is--or was--sleeping, but he wakes up and huffs a laugh and says as calm and even as he seems to do everything. "What are you up to?"

Major Egan holds out a hand. "Look what I found!"

Major Cleven squints at Major Egan's hand. "It's a penny."

"No, look closer," Major Egan says. He picks up the penny with his other hand and holds it very close to Major Cleven's eyes. "Look."

Major Cleven grabs Major Egan's wrist and pulls it back a few inches. He squints at the penny, then reaches over and flicks on his lamp. He squints at the penny again. "It's still a penny, John."

"No, it's your birth year," Major Egan says. "See?" He points. "And I found it heads up! It's double good luck for you."

The replacement suddenly realizes neither of them have clocked that he's there. He coughs politely, and suddenly, both Majors are looking at him.

"Is this your first time experiencing Major Egan in his magpie form?" Major Cleven asks.

"Uh," the replacement says.

"He acts like it's silly, but he keeps all of them," Major Egan says, gesturing to Major Cleven.

The replacement expects Major Cleven to scoff or shove Major Egan off his bed. Instead, he smiles and holds out his hand.

"I don't act like it's silly," Major Cleven says and looks at his table for a long moment before setting down very precisely. "I just can't follow your booze-soaked reasoning when you wake me up in the middle of the night."

Major Egan flops sideways so he's taking over half of Major Cleven's bed. "It's only ten, you old man."

Major Cleven stares at Major Egan. "We have an audience, John."

"Eh," Major Egan says and rolls over, stealing Major Cleven's pillow.

"Hey, give that back!" Major Cleven says, yanking the pillow, but Major Egan isn't giving it up.

The replacement doesn't know what to do, so he goes back to his book. The next night at the officer's club, he buys Demarco a drink.

"What was it this time?" Demarco asks.

"A penny from his birth year that he found face up."

Demarco bursts into laughter. "Oh, that's a whole new level of lovesick."

"Are they together?"

"Joined at the hip and a few other parts," Demarco says, then downs his drink. He slaps the replacement on the back. "Come on. I'll let you tell Brady what the latest one is. He'll love it."

[animalcrossingshowdown]

someone sent in this ask and I spent literal hours putting together this tutorial but then it wouldn't let me post it and when I went back into my inbox the ask was gone?? good thing I copy and pasted it, so here it is in its own post

I'm not sure if this will work with programs other than photoshop, but this is how I do it. I know @shinobi-bacon has a tutorial here on how they do it which is pretty different from the way I do it, so if my tutorial is confusing maybe theirs will click with you better lmao. I stole the greenscreen idea from them anyway

SO FIRST, you want your villager on a green screen background. to do this, go to harv's island and use a custom pattern to make the walls and floors bright green. If the villager you're using has green in their design, you'll have to pick a different colour that isn't in their design, but for most villagers green is fine.

if your villager has every colour on them like pietro or stiches then rip you're gonna have to do some manual editing frame by frame. try to choose a colour that doesn't touch the edges of their silhouette too much in that case because it'll make life easier for you

so once you have them in green purgatory, record them doing their emote or whatever. I just use the built-in screen record function that the switch has. press and hold this button to record the last 30 seconds that your switch displayed:

next send that video to your computer and trim off the start of the video so it starts right before a recognizable part of the animation. for this emote I cut it off right before the blink. if you have a slow computer, you'll probably want to trim the end off too so the video is only a little bit longer than one full animation loop

(you can use the video editing software of your preference, I just use quick time player Edit -> Trim)

okay time for photoshop. go File -> Import -> Video Frames to Layers

for "range to import" select "from beginning to end" (or you could skip the last step about trimming the video and select a range here, but I find it kind of finicky), and make sure "make frame animation" is checked

once imported, if it doesn't pop up on it's own, go Window -> Timeline to get your animation at the bottom

click through those frames at the bottom until you find an easily recognizable frame (I chose the first frame where her eyes are closed) and delete all the frames before it. in the layers panel, the layer from the frame you've selected should be the only one turned on. delete all the layers below it

now go through the frames to find the next identical frame. this is where the animation loops. delete that frame and all the frames after it, as well as all of their corresponding layers (note in the picture, frame 121 is selected, and it's exactly the same as the frame from the start of the animation)

hit the play button on the bottom left to double check that it loops properly

next, make sure both THE FIRST FRAME AND BOTTOM LAYER are selected, and crop and reduce the image to your desired size. you can do this step later if you want, it's just that doing it now will reduce the load on your computer and make it run a bit faster. just as long as the first frame and bottom layer are selected, you can do this at any time

SAVE HERE because if you mess up this next part it's a pain to fix, but it's easy to quit and start over if need be

now it's time for my best friend the actions panel !! say hi actions panel !! (Window -> Actions). what the actions panel does is record your steps so you can quickly automate repetitive tasks.

in the actions panel, click the folder and name it whatever you want

then click the little plus and name that whatever you want and hit record. You'll see the dot turn red to indicate that your actions are now being recorded

now with the BOTTOM LAYER AND FIRST FRAME selected (ignore that I have the wrong layer selected in the pictures, I fixed it after), go to Select -> Colour Range

click on a part of the canvas that would be green

shift+click on the rest of the green background and adjust the fuzziness until just the character's silhouette remains

hit OK, now the background should be selected. go Select -> Inverse so that the character is selected, and click on layer mask.

click the next frame button (you MUST click the button, not the actual frame. you need the recording to recognize "go to next frame" and not "select frame 2"),

then keyboard shortcut option + ] to select the next layer up (again, you MUST use the shortcut so it knows to move up one layer and not just "select layer 2"),

and then stop recording.

now just repeatedly click the play button and it will do all those steps we just did for each frame :)

this part is usually where it gets messed up for me. if it did something weird like duplicate the same frame or layer your animation over a static frame, just quit and reopen that save I told you to make earlier. the action recording you just made will still be there when you reopen photoshop, so just select the first frame and bottom layer and repeatedly hit play again. if it STILL doesn't work, you probably did something wrong

the recording is now saved in photoshop forever until you delete it, so you can reuse the recording for other gifs! but if they use a different colour background, you'll need to make a new recording (you can see I have separate ones for blue and purple screens). also if you were working with one of those colourful villagers and parts got masked out that shouldn't have been, you'll have to go frame by frame and manually fix them. that's why we masked out the background instead of deleting it.

now it's time to make it into a gif! go File -> Export -> Save for Web. make sure Matte is set to "none" so you don't get those weird white flecks. colours and dither you want as high as they can go, but you can lower them if you need to make the file smaller (though I'd recommend resizing the image smaller first). the bottom left shows your file size. currently as of January 2024, tumblr allows gifs of up to 10MB

and there ya go! gif! :)

[suzukiblu]

an inquiry for y'all, via poll!

So my current Ko-fi goal (the "get 'obligatory sugar baby' word count in thanks for donations" one, that is) is about 95% full now, so I'm debating the possibility of starting up a new one once I finish up the last couple subs I owe from last month and a few more of the thank-you sentence sets I've still got on the docket. And also dent the obligatory sugar baby word count a little more, I'd like to be a little farther along on that too.

My current thought, as was suggested to me by a follower, is to do a donation goal where I dig into my inbox and just answer random WIP Wednesday requests I never got to for one reason or another--just like, whichever ones I find or that speak to me as I go, not any specific ones. So basically, making a donation would be like taking a swing at a fic pinata or picking out a blind box; everybody would get random surprises in response, and I'd get a clearer inbox and can maybe answer some of the old asks I lost in there while I'm at it. Because I love doing WIP Wednesday, man, but it regularly just BURIES things in my ask box, hahasob.

( so many asks I made the mistake of thinking "oh I'll just answer it in a day or two so I can really think about my response" . . . )

I was thinking I'd do one fill per dollar donated and I'd just treat them the same way I would normal WIP Wednesday fills, so they'd all be three sentences minimum. So like, a three-dollar donation would get three random fic-bits adding up to at least nine sentences as its thank-you. And like I said, they'd be random, but if there were any particular genres or squicks/triggers someone would rather I avoid for the fills I do in response to their personal donation--like omegaverse or kid-fic or dubcon-related responses, for example--I'd take that into account for people, obviously.

I don't know if that idea appeals to/would work for anyone who might be interested, though, so therefore: a poll!

tl;dr: Ko-fi donation goal for filling random old WIP Wednesday requests in thanks for donos; y/n??

As always, thanks for reading, I very much appreciate it! 🧡

[yaut-jaknowit]

BRO I LOVED THE SIZE KINK YOU WROTE BASED OFF OF MY POST😩🙏🙏 literally been constantly reading it i’m so obsessed. I literally have so many mlm ideas from angst to nsfw so I can spam your inbox if you want (or dm’s if you wanna be moots)💀✋

BUT LIKE- imagine male reader soldier x male yautja where the reader had been off radar for a few months with their mate worrying only for the reader to return with new scars and a mechanical arm because he lost his real one during war😩

And then on god the yautja would be pissed asf because he was worried the reader was dead 😭✋

Return to Him

Pairing: Mai'tuiudh (Male Yautja) x Male Reader

Word Count: 2063

Summary: Four months isn't a long time to be away from home. Yet, everything that has occured during that time made it seem like years. Years since you last saw Mai, your beloved. You wished to see him, to ensure to him you were alright. Just a bit beaten up and newly scarred. This Yautja isn't liking the unfamiliar feeling of worry. That doesn't stop him from feeling that way. Nothing would.

Author Note: This one made me think a bit. I'm not used to these kinds of requests or prompts, not complaining though! Loving the prompts! Also, to those who requested something. It's going to take a little bit to get to those. Christmas time is very busy. I have three families to visit and my brother came into town after moving away four months ago.

I'm so glad you enjoyed that! I was a little worried since it was out of my knowledge. You can do whatever you want. I don't mind being mutuals. I will let you know that I'm bad a responding though, lol. I'm up to anything you want within reason, of course! Throw them at me.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

Masterlist

Ao3

A ding behind him made the Yautja whip around in his chair to find a disappointing screen. Mai snarled lowly to himself and banged a fist against the armrest. He had set up a diagnostic to search through your government’s database for anything on you. It came up empty handed, nothing new about your location.

He felt his spine bristle at the thought. Where were you? A few buttons were harshly pressed on his dashboard. The ship you sometimes called home hummed louder before changing directions. Mai abruptly stood up and marched out of the room.

If your government doesn’t know where you were then, he was going to search for you personally. Earth may be large, though not as massive as Yautja Prime, that wouldn’t stop him. This Yautja wasn’t going to coward away at a challenge. It was in his blood to hunt. That’s what made him, well, him. He was a fighter and would never think about backing down from a challenge.

Though, it would take time to reach earth without eating up his low fuel reserves. To hide away from detection from your government’s space program, he flew into Neptune’s gravitational pull. His ship was pulled in and forced to orbit. Mai had to play smart, be a hunter without distraction. That’s the only way he would be able to find you without getting caught. That would ruin the double life you live. One Mai’tuiudh will never understand. The Yautja shook his head, tresses swaying as he passed through the short hall to the sparing room.

To pass the time, Mai’s going to work off some pent-up steam. Your time away from the brute has caused some unnecessary stress on his weary bones. He needed to relieve himself of it.

His muscles rippled, fist meeting reenforced leather. Mai’s mandibles pulled close. A hunter’s focus craved into his face. Eyes keen and moves precise. The hit was probably harsher than it needed to be against an unalive object. Yet, Mai’tuiudh didn’t care. If that’s what helped relieve the stress within his bones. Then, that’s what needed to be done. He needs to a take stop at his mother ship anyhow for supplies and whatnot. Check in so no one thinks he’s dead.

That would mean he’ll have to leave for about two weeks. Space travel wasn’t always the quickest, especially with low reserves. Plus, Mai will be forced to make rounds around the ship. He may not be an important figure; it was customary to check in hunting brothers and sisters. Find out who’s dead and who lives. Everything that make’s living as a Yautja, Yautja.

.

When your feet hit dry, dusty soil, you cringed. Dust from the vehicles stopping behind you blew over to you. It forced you to close your eyes and hope for its quick pass.

Once it had left, you carefully made your way to the back of the unsuspecting black SUV. The driver was swift to hop out, scrambling after you. “Sir! I can-can get th-hat for you,” the rookie stated and attempted to move past you. Your uninjured arm shot out and stopped him taking another step.

Without a single sound, you stepped up to the tailgate and simply opened it. The rookie shifted his weight frequently and arms straight at his side. His eyes were on you though, flickering all over the place on the view before him.

On the other hand, you slung the mildly heavy bag on your shoulder. It pulled at the muscles on your other… arm. Your face scrunched up at the sudden pain but not a noise made it past your lips. Years of training and all make a fine soldier. You just got to beat the human out of him.

The rookie stood there, eyes watching as your tired, used body limbed past him. One of his arms hesitantly reached to grasp at you but one side stepped easily dodged the rookie. He just stared at your leaving form, gaze dipping down at the unmatched color on your right hand. Then they were locked onto the back of your camouflaged jacket molded to your shape.

Your apartment’s door slammed heavy behind you, the noise causing you no disturbance. Even the headache swallowing you barely increased at the sound. Instead, you let your bag slide off of your shoulder and on the ground. It made a soft noise, the only one in your quiet apartment.

It hadn’t been that long since you’ve last stepped foot in here. Not longer than four months. Yet, with all that has occurred within that time frame, it felt like years.

One thing after another happened out there, facing the enemies your country makes you fight. The demons. All for what? Losing amazing people or causing unnecessary trauma and bodily harm on the soldiers that defend this nation. You sighed, shoulders sagging before shuffling into your room and flicked on the light.

Nothing had been moved. Light dust had settled on everything you owned. The room was still in the state as long before. Clothes thrown haphazardly on the floor; bed unmade; empty glass of water on your nightstand; one curtain open will the other was drawn to the halfway point.

Wait a minute. You rubbed at your eyes with an uninjured fist. The bed. It was in a different position than you last remember. What you remembered was the long body pillow was across the top of the bed, against the headboard. It had been moved to be parallel with the long part of the bed. At first, you were on verge of freaking out. Your brain taking a few extra seconds to realize what that could mean.

One: someone broke into his apartment, acted like a complete fool, and slept in your bed. Or two: Mai slept in your bed, to probably smell your scent. You did leave without much of an explanation. The base called and you were shipped off that same day. A single message of you being safe was all you could get out to him. Mai’s probably searching for you or waiting close by. It all depends on if he found out what you were doing and where you were.

With a heavy sigh, you stripped yourself down to just your underwear. A chilling breeze washed over your skin, causing you to shiver. You simple tipped over and landed face first on the bed. The sheets were cool to the touch. A deep breath brought a faint scent of Mai to your noise. Your body relaxed completely at the scent. Next, you were out like a light bulb.

Through deadened sleep, the slamming of your porch sliding glass door snapped you groggily away. Your head shook to rid away some of the tiredness still within your bones. The blankets that once covered you had been kicked off sometime during sleep. You were on the verge of getting to check what had made that noise. That something had different plans.

The door to your bedroom was forced open, crashing into the wall. It probably left a mark that you could worry about later. Military or not, you were exhausted and currently in pain. You just stared through the darkness at what had made that noise.

Heavy, familiar pants could be heard before you. It took a long moment for you brain to realize what that could mean. In the meantime, the blob form standing in your doorway launched at you.

Large, calloused hands wrapped around your wrist from what you could feel. The heavy frame pinned you on your back, arms pinned above your head. Heat rolled over you. The calming smell of him filled your lungs. Something warm and felt like fingertips grazed over the naked skin of your chest. You didn’t fight, not just because of the exhaustion. No, it was due to the fact you knew who it was.

As you longed to bring the Yautja into a kiss, your arms were trapped. That’s when you finally noticed the pain burning in your right shoulder. “Mai, let go please. You’re hurting me,” you demanded and started to wiggle underneath the fully armored male. An extra added fifty pounds from his armor and biomask.

The Yautja reeled back his mighty head, tresses slapping against his armored chest. Then, Mai quickly lifted his body weight off of you. The air around you tasted strange. Not in a bad way. It unnerved him nevertheless though. Mai tilted his head, biomask scanning over your frame.

Multiple new injures, most fully healed. Where had you gone?! Then, Mai caught sight of something that wasn’t normal, that wasn’t there before. His hand grasped at the metal attached to your right arm.

It was cool in hold. The gears inside pitched a high noise as they moved within. Mai brought his face close and took in its smell. The skin on upper, inner mouth crinkled at the horrible smell. Not that you could see though with his biomask.

Since he had released you, you brought a hand up to his face and shivered at cold metal. “Take it off,” you ordered of him. Mai listened without hesitancy. The tubes connected to his biomask hissed as they were disconnected. It was ripped from his alien face thrown off to the side on the bed.

Without another second apart, you wrapped both of your arms around him. All of your strength was used to keep him like that. Not that Mai’tuiudh was complaining. Not with you in his arms. Instead, he buried his mandibles in the crook of your neck and licked. Mai groaned at your missed taste. Your last message to him had him… worried. A feeling that wasn’t very Yautja. That didn’t stop him from feeling that way without you being at his side.

To be honest, it felt like the fullest of hunting grounds with you in his arms. Your warmth against him; hearing your heartbeat; smelling you. He wouldn’t let you go, even if this position was making his back due to the strange angle and added weight.

Mai pulled his head back to stare you in the eye through the darkness. “What happened to you?” You knew immediately what he was reference towards and turned on the light on your nightstand. This lit up your newly marred skin to him. The scars were a fresh pink. Mai’s pupils narrowed down and scanned over them, hands coming up to stroke them.

“Careful, they’re still sensitive,” you said, sounding distant. The memories were still fresh but you didn’t want to think about them. Your hand carefully caressed a tress as a distraction.

Next, he motioned with his head towards your metal right arm. Before he could ask about that one, you beat him to it. “I’d rather not go into detail. Let’s just say I lost a fight,” is what you told him. You still couldn’t believe what had happened. Your arm gone. Missing. Replaced by metal.

Anger dribbled into Mai’s system as he stared down at you. “Why did you leave?” he hissed out and forced himself all the closer. You sighed, head falling to the side.

“I was summoned for an operation. It was sudden. I had little time to get ready, let alone send that message to you,” you explained and relaxed your sore arms. Mai changed his position. He forced your legs apart and shuffle closer, bottom of your thighs resting on top of his. His chest to yours, face reburied into the crook of your neck. A growl vibrated your ribcage.

Sharp claws bit into the flesh of your skin. The pain barely noticeable over the already existing one. “Worry isn’t something a Yautja feels.” Mai paused to somehow shift even closer into your body. “You made me worry if you were dead or alive. Don’t do that again.” He stopped again, the gears inside of his mind working. “You know what, you won’t be given an opportunity. You’re staying with me, all the time.”

“What?!” you shouted and wiggled against him, but unable to escape. “You can’t do that Mai! I have a life here, a job, all that stuff.”

It was like he wasn’t listening to you. “Mine,” he snarled into your skin and tightened his hold. There was a chance of freedom at the moment. You were stuck for better or worse.

[jo-harrington]

so teeth? really?

Anon...yeah teeth? I'm weird, I'm here for the weirdos.

I've decided recently that I'm going to be a certain actor who shall only be named in the tags arch nemesis. If there's no one out there talking about his false teeth and his stained nails and his disgusting capitalist tendencies, it means I'm dead.

So in honor of a certain someone who'll only be named in the tags 30th birthday, please enjoy the sequel to this weird RPF.

Pairing: Disgusting 30-year old capitalist B-lister who's lucking out on his career x CorporateBadass!Fem!Reader

TW: RPF, Smut, jealousy, a little angst, a little degradation, and he's gross

Tagging @courtingchaos @deathbecomesthem @dr-aculaaa and @tomtomslongdong @bettyfrommars because you liked my games last time.

18+ WEIRDOS ENJOY! NORMIES STAY OUT.

It came in an email.

It always did.

Forwarded from your work email to your personal email, then forwarded onto his with several question marks. No phone numbers, no WhatsApp. An occasional GChat if you had trouble compromising over different time zones. But generally, your interactions were limited to a familiar face in an unfamiliar place; not casual conversation during normal, every day life.

You joked once, in an Uber on the way to the airport as you were fixing your disheveled clothes after a quickie before check-out, that you might as well sync your google calendars and that…seemed pretty appealing to him, if only someone else didn’t handle his calendar for him.

“Must be nice,” you joked. “Big important star with an assistant.”

“It’s one of my manager’s assistant,” he argued. “And you have an assistant too.”

“It’s an admin for the department. And they only book the travel. They don’t manage individual calendars. Sorry I’m a peasant dragging my cadaver up the corporate ladder.”

Regardless, he woke up to your email one morning—some remnant of your personality from a former life—at the top of his inbox with the word “London???” above an itinerary for two weeks of franchise meetings and property tours around the city he called home.

His city. No coincidences, no “accidental” run-ins at LAX or JFK that the two of you bent in your favor. You were coming for to him. During a week that he otherwise had no plans.

He acted on impulse. Perhaps a little desperately. Especially considering how little he knew you.

“If you want, you can just stay here. I have plenty of room. You’ll have your space. Pretend it’s a VRBO for the week.”

Realization hit him once he hit send. Dread.

Invite you to stay at his house, a house that he was just settling in to being a home. Where all of his things were, where he had pictures of family and friends.

His house.

Where he was someone and not no one.

He hoped that you would realize the impropriety—as improper as it could be after he’d stuck his cock in you more times than he could count at this point—and be the more level-headed of the two of you, as you usually were, and decline the offer.

It took 48 hours for you to respond. 

He thought that meant he was in the clear.

Until your reply blipped in his inbox between emails containing sides for self tapes and negotiations for his next potential public appearance.

“Great, thanks. I won’t take up too much space. I’ll barely be there.”

Followed by the airplane emoji and the sleep emoji.

He got irrationally angry for a moment.

How could you do this? How could you cross this boundary? Partial anonymity…that’s what you both agreed on and here you were…suddenly reneging on that agreement. 

Invading his space.

Only you weren’t invading, he invited you in.

Invited you to know Joe a little more than you knew Joseph.

And he could know you too. 

He missed getting to know people; he chose not to know people. He knew enough people.

Now he’d get the chance to get to know you.

You’d be here in a week.

And suddenly you were.

Not an email away. Just there.

You sent him a WhatsApp from the car—a necessity now that you’d be with him for a prolonged time—double checking his street. Then suddenly you were ringing the bell.

He went over the mental to-do list that he’d made ahead of your arrival—schedule planned so he’d be available if you wanted or needed him anything, the cleaning service came through, groceries were delivered, and he’d even got flowers for your room…just a nice little thing he thought of—and then he opened the door.

It had been awkward, the initial greeting.

It wasn’t like your typical hotel room rendezvous. It wasn’t straight to business. You both just stood there staring.

“Consider me a vampire,” you joked, slightly jet lagged and weary since you had gone to meetings straight away after you’d landed. “I need to be invited to come in.”

“Of course,” he stepped to the side to let you in. “Make yourself at home.”

You let him carry your suitcase and shoulder your backpack as he led you straight to the guest room. Then you touched his cheek fondly, thanked him…and promptly shut the door in his face so you could sleep.

Well…he at least thought he was going to get something more than that.

But he didn’t get much more than that. For almost an entire week.

At first it was fine. You were busy, and so was he.

He made (ordered) breakfast for the two of you for the first morning. You grabbed tea and a biscuit (“when in Rome…yes I know…but this was part of the Roman Empire so…No I thought it was funny Joseph ok see you later then”) and ordered an Uber to make it to your first walkthrough of the day. He had a copy of your schedule in his email, made sure to run his errands, make his appointments, and hang out with friends while you were busy so he could be there when it was time for you to return at the end of the day. Only to get another peck on the cheek and be thoroughly ignored as you trudged off to bed.

He felt a little bad. He knew those days where they just never seemed to end; come back to wherever he’d been put up only to check his phone and pass out. 

Then he’d hear you around midnight, waking up from a dead sleep and tapping away at your keyboard. Sending communication to your boss or your team or whoever else back home. He didn’t know if you knew he was awake, or if you would venture out of the guest room to find him or get a drink…something. But you never did. Didn’t roam around, didn’t even chat him on WhatsApp; you just clicked away until the clicking stopped and you passed out again.

That’s when he got annoyed.

Because he’d been patient enough; he waited. Waited for something for those first few days. Some kind of sign that you were here with him. He’d sit and watch the telly, pick something from netflix or YouTube, read a book waiting for you to say more than hello to him when he opened the door for you. Have a conversation with him. Something! Sure that wasn’t really how the two of you operated, but even when he still had a roommate and they lived a very separate schedule there was at least a “hey mate, how’d the day go” and it gnawed at his insides that you couldn’t even be bothered.

Who were you? Just some no one, playing at possibly having an executive position one day. 

And who was he? He was Joseph Quinn. Eddie fucking Munson, as much as he loathed it. He had people screaming for him, screaming his name. You even screamed his name from time to time. 

Just not now.

Was he even going to get to fuck you at the end of this torture? Probably not. You’d be off to Heathrow to catch your flight back home with a simple peck on the cheek and a pat on the head.

“Good boy Joseph, letting me stay in your guest room, thank you for the red carpet treatment.”

So after three days of radio silence, he stopped playing such a gracious host. You insisted that you weren’t even there? He would act like you weren’t.

He stopped living his life around your schedule, left you a spare key so he wouldn’t have to make a fool of himself and open the door for you. Got dinner with his friends, drinks with some people his manager wanted him to meet, all on his own time. 

He did exactly what did, he ignored you.

And that’s what got your attention, or so it seemed.

He saw you “in the wild” a bit more. You and your American lean against the bar at the pub he frequented, wine glass in hand as you chatted with someone in a suit; he decided he’d rather get a beer somewhere else that night. Came home late from a friend’s party on Friday to find you in the kitchen, with a sandwich, going over some contract. You waved at him, maybe a hello or to get him to join you, but he just walked away. Woke up late the next morning to find you actually sitting on his couch with coffee in one hand and phone in another. Your eyes brightened a little when you saw him.

“Morning! I have an appointment at 1, but…dinner?” You asked. “I’m getting so sick of cateri—“

“M’busy,” he cut you off. He didn’t like the way you just nodded, just pressed your lips together accepted it. The way his plans meant nothing. Still, you were out here. Instead of in your room…or just gone.

“Maybe tomorrow night?” He offered, a little more gently.

“Sounds good.” He smiled. “I’ll put it on my calendar.” And the smile went away again, and so did he.

You put him on your calendar like another business appointment; he shouldn’t have felt bad about it, it’s what you always did when you met up in one city or another…but he did. Because this wasn’t “make a run-in happen” this was a meal with the person whose house you were living in for two weeks.

He probably should have asked someone if he was overreacting—probably should have asked you to be honest—but who could he ask? His friends didn’t know about you; they gave him enough shit about his current situation as it was, let alone some American airport fling. Couldn’t exactly tell his manager, they’d have you in to sign an NDA or something; all of the times he planned his travel around “running into you,” he just said it was meeting up with a friend.

So let the feeling stew in his head all day. He came home late again Saturday night to avoid you, and stayed out the entire day Sunday, missing the time you’d made for him on your calendar. Good riddance.

Until he rolled in at 1am, well on his way back to sober after a night out, to find you sitting on his couch, some YouTube chef on the telly, Diet Coke in hand, and his takeaway box of leftovers from dinner the night before on the coffee table.

“That was mine,” he accused. No greeting, just fire as he walked over and looked at the remnants of his gnocchi carbonara.

“It was really tasty,” you nodded.

“I know, because it was mine.” He scoffed and crossed his arm over his chest. “You know if you were really hungry, there’s plenty of other food in the kitchen. Or you could’ve gotten a sausage roll or something. Ever heard of Uber Eats?”

“No I ate your pasta because you told me once that you don’t eat leftovers but you always felt bad that they’d just go in the garbage at the restaurant,” you explained calmly. A little too calmly. “Instead they’d just go in the garbage here. So I enjoyed your scraps, cold, like a peasant, oh King Joseph, most conceited and decadent of all. Because you forgot we had plans for dinner.”

“S’that what we had? Plans?”

“Yeah, I blocked off time for you and everything.”

“Talk about most conceited,” he grabbed the takeaway box and started walking towards the kitchen to dispose of it and this conversation, but you were hot on his heels.

“Excuse me what was that?”

“You heard me, conceited,” he threw the box in the bin and then turned back towards you. “Lemme pencil you in on my calendar, Joe. Dinner, Sunday, 8 o’clock does that work?” He mimed holding a notebook and jotting down the appointment. 

“Have you lost your mind? That’s what I need to do if I want ten minutes to myself, let alone a whole dinner. You know I didn’t even put sleep on my calendar for this trip?”

“Lemme not even say good morning because I have a call I need to get on Joe, thanks for the biscuits.”

“Did you miss the entire point of me being in London when I sent you my itinerary? Or did you think this was just me coming to fuck you for two weeks?”

“Maybe not the whole two weeks,” he sneered at you. “But even a how was your day would have been nicer than being treated like the hotel manager.”

“At least the hotel staff cleans shit up,” you scoffed at him. “You know I went out for drinks the other night, went to that pub you told me about, because we finally figured out a contract and I spilled wine on myself. Came back here to throw it in the wash only to find the machine full of dirty clothes. That was really fun to see your stained and faded tighty whiteys at the top of the load. Were you just waiting for the maid service to come back to start the wash for you? You’re so famous now that can’t even hit the damn button yourself?”

The next scathing remark stopped dead on his tongue at that, and then he felt the shame build up.

But only for a moment, because before he knew it, you were crossing the distance and smashing your mouth to his. It was a quick play for control as usual, neither of you caring that you’d just butt heads because the real winner would be whoever could succeed at your little game first; he was in such a mood, such a state, that he actually tried to put up a fight, wanting to get you to cry out for him like he’d been wanting all week. Wanting to be wanted, needed.

He pulled away to remove the bridge from his mouth, mindful of the complaint you’d made about kissing him last time you’d met up, and you did something unexpectedly delicious.

“You rich rat,” you growled at him as you tugged his shirt free of his waistband with one hand and started working his belt loose with the other. “You better be wearing clean underwear right now so help me god.”

And damn if he didn’t get hard just from your words alone. 

The aggressive snap of his belt hitting the tile floor also helped.

“They should be,” he grinned cheekily and pulled your sleep shirt over your head. “Agnetha did a load before you got here.”

“You’re pathetic.” You worked the buttons of his shirt as quickly as you could. “How much is this shirt? ’S it dry-clean only? Does she take your dry cleaning in too? Bring it back and make sure it’s folded nicely only for you to shove everything in the drawer anyway. Like the useless boy you are.”

Yeah that was doing it for him.

“She washes the sheets too.” He dropped to his knees before you now as you leant against the counter, fully intent on pleasing you right here in the kitchen. “Changed them right before you got here. Shouldn’t be any more questionable stains.”

“Useless,” you hissed at him but ran a hand softly through his curls as he kissed along your abdomen and peeled your leggings down your legs. “Utterly useless.”

The thing about you though was your self-restraint, your discipline. You didn’t like to lose; you’d deprive yourself of things to get some advantage over your adversaries—usually corporate adversaries—and come out on top. And you made that very well known in the bedroom too when this little game got started. You’d gotten him to cum easily the first time you slept together and then used him to chase your own pleasure, commanding his mouth and tongue here and fingers there. 

Just like you were doing now. No moans, just little hitches in your breathing as you steered his head and used the leg you’d thrown over his shoulder to bring him deeper into your center. 

When you got close to completion, you used the upper hand again to push him away and you both descended together. His trousers and pants shoved down to his knees with his shirt bunched up under his head so he wouldn’t be sore from smacking it against the tile when you sunk down onto him. And when he felt the delicious squeeze of your cunt, he couldn’t help himself from throwing his head back; good for you to have the foresight. 

He had the foresight too though. He knew your moves, they made him see the light of God, seductress that you were. You told him your secret once as you basked in the afterglow when you’d rendered him particularly speechless.

“Spell the word coconut.”

“C-o-c--“

“No, I spell the word coconut. As I’m on top. Read it in a magazine or something during my last layover.”

And he could feel it now, predict it. Feel the motion of your hips, around and around and up and down and squeeze.

He couldn’t tell just by looking at your face, he had to feel it; close his eyes and feel the tempestuous slide of you over him, bringing him higher.

Maybe he would win the game tonight?

He wasn’t one to lose either; he could be competitive just like you. In fact, he was excellent at manipulating a situation in his favor. School, money, life. And with you he’d won enough times to know it could be done. You’d made him feel so…meaningless over the past week—even if he’d misunderstood and overreacted—that a win would be even better than the pleasure itself.

You pried one of his hands off your hip where it was clinging for dear life and directed him to play with your clit so you didn’t have to. For a moment, he lifted his head and watched his own nicotine-stained nails and your prettily manicured ones mingle against the engorged and glistening junction of your sex, and where any other time it would have him groaning at the sight, he couldn’t help but notice how disgusting his hands looked in comparison to your own. For a moment the confidence faltered.

When had he last washed them? Maybe you were right, he was gross and pathetic…

But then you moaned, and from his point of view It looked like it even surprised you even. You stuttered in your pace and your eyes went a little wide. 

He felt all the doubt leave him. 

He would win tonight…

He took advantage, used his leverage, to turn the tables. To sit upright and guide you to take his spot; you couldn’t even protest before he pistoned into you, before his fingered took an unrelenting pace on your clit.

He could spell coconut too, and he did. He would tell you all about it after his victory. Boast over using your own tricks against you.

You watched him with unblinking eyes as your nails dug into his bicep and shoulder, as you bit your lip so hard he was sure you’d bite right through it, and you kept the little whine that emanated from your throat as soft as you possibly could. Still, he could hear it through the desperate, wet sounds of your fucking.

He closed his eyes and focused on the finish line, focused on keeping the tension of his mounting pleasure back as he could feel you grip tighter and begin to spasm around him. He needed to win, it would be glorious.

“Joe,” you moaned, and he thought it was over. But there, underneath the neediness, lay the condescension, the obvious upper hand. “Can you hurry up? I have a call at 7am”

He came, seconds before you did. Collapsed against you and spilled inside of you before you found your own release.

On his kitchen floor, spent, laughing together, basking in the ridiculous pleasure found in the presence of one another, another game came to an end.

And he might have lost, but in the end, did he really lose?

Happy Birthday asshole. I'm following you into 30 in 10 months with a vengeance.

No love lost, The better Jo(e) &lt;/3

[taylorswiftstylequestions]

Hi Sarah! I'm sorry to be leaving something so negative in your inbox—it's unfair and I apologize, I just trust you to engage with it in a thoughtful way that'll broaden my perspective (if you choose to engage at all!)

I'm let down by TTPD, for a lot of reasons, but mostly I think it's just how unsympathetic Taylor is on this one? I recognize it was the point, but it doesn't work like it did on other self-critical songs like "Dear Reader" or even songs like "Getaway Car" or "Ivy." It just lacks in self-awareness—writing a song calling fans pearl-clutching "vipers" for not supporting the awful things MH did, taking shots at decades-old enemies and bringing their kids into it, responding to (some very fair!) criticisms on "Who's Afraid..." by blaming everyone else for "making her this way" and then doubling down, the jabs at OR... it's just an incredibly difficult album to empathize with. I know she said it was meant to capture what it feels like to be in that space, but you can do so without lashing out unnecessarily at very founded critique and/or people who had nothing to do with it. The highlights, IMO, are the songs where she balances gray morality or chaos with the self-reflection she's always been known for, i.e. "I Can Fix Him...", "Guilty as Sin?", "Florida!", or songs like "Clara Bow" and "The Smallest Man..." which aren't punching down. Idk. I've been reading fan takes and hoping it'll grow on me!

Hi! A note that this is from around release week, just had it floating in my drafts for a bit as I thought of ways to respond.

First off, I so appreciate you coming into this space in good faith and in the hopes that I'll be able to engage with your thoughts in a way that can perhaps, as you noted, broaden your perspectives and thus having the impact of changing your mind.

As a disclaimer, if you don't like certain songs or find certain things hit too close to home or are sensitive or they make you uncomfortable - that is okay! That is your right to feel that way. You're not obligated to like all or any of Taylor's art. It isn't imperative that you like this. At all!

That said, I'd say Taylor is making her art as brash and honest and uncomfortable on purpose because she's a complicated person. We as humans aren't always palatable all the time. We can be ugly and complicated and unflattering. I understand the desire to, but we also can't dictate her art. We can't ask her art to expose her pain — but with caveats.

Be vulnerable, but don't make me uncomfortable. Cry, but don't ruin your makeup.

To me, this album is ugly and it's ugly on purpose. And not to be annoyingly cliché but I really do think that's beautiful.

I can certainly share my thoughts, but it isn’t my intent (nor is it my job / goal) to change your mind or “make” you like it. I promise you can continue to have a weird / squiggly / not okay / uncomfy / dislike relationship with this art if that's where you're sitting!

In case it does matter, I don't think "But Daddy" is swiping back at people for not liking / not approving the person she was dating. We can critique and have opinions about her choices, but the song is not about wanting your approval - it's the opposite! It's saying that she doesn't care about your opinion and as a grown woman she has the right to make whatever decisions she wants to without a nameless mass of people thinking they are in a position where they can dictate those choices. If she's going to make a mistake, she is going to make it.

Imo, Taylor can bring up 2016 as many times as she wants to. I'd even make the case she hasn't talked about it nearly enough. As she continues to unpack and deal with that time in her life, she's allowed to realize things anew about how those situations had a long-tail impact on who she is as a person now. We even see that in a completely different way on "The Manuscript". Given Kim has recently shared content of her and her children dancing to Taylor songs I don't think the implication was out of pocket. It was Taylor saying I hope that in the small ways in your daily life like going out for a walk or making your kids lunch or sitting at a stop light that you're inescapably reminded of my legacy. And that kind of annoying jab is the I-hope-you-stub-your-toe-everyday petty remark feels very Taylor to me and not malicious or implicating her kids in a derogatory way.

All in all I really do hear you about wanting desperately to find something softer and more empathetic and pleasing about this album so that it doesn't feel like you're stretching uncomfortably to like it. But I'd just say that (and I really do mean this with sincerity) you don't have to! You can dislike it! You can critique it and find the things she's saying not oaky by you or that you disagree with how she's characterizing herself and situations. The thing is that she's writing from her POV and how things felt for her. And what's hard is that she doesn't have to be objective or fair about her own storytelling. She can put herself in the best light if she wants to - even if she's wrong! And it's so so so okay for you to not like that and to say, well ... no!

Again, I love and appreciate you feeling like TSS/Q was the safe space for you to come to to talk about this and try to find a new level or something to unlock and perhaps feel things over. Or, in the very least, just to share the difficult spot you're finding yourself in listening to this album. I'm grateful you wanted to share that in this space of all spaces.

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

Elvis comforting you cause you’ve got period cramps?

Helping

Fandom: Elvis Presley, Elvis Movie RPF, RPF, American Actor

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Female Reader

Characters: Elvis Presley, Female Reader, Gladys Presley, Minnie Mae Presley, Dodger Presley

Word Count: 2435

Rating: Gen

Summary: Gladys and Dodger give Elvis a biology lesson.

Tags/Warnings: Requests, Requested Fic, Periods, Period Cramps, Menstruating, Spooning, Arguing, Fighting, Established Relationship, Old Fashion Views [kinda]

Notes: Here you go honey.

PSA I’m working through my inbox and trying to update my ongoing series &lt;3

Updated 8/23

Elvis Tags: @literally-just-elvis-fics @caitlin1996 @notstefaniepresley

Elvis sat stewing, a pout on his face. He was sitting in his living room with the TV on though it was mostly playing to itself as his mind, as it often was, was on you, though this time was different. This time he was annoyed, no not annoyed, not really, he was just hurt. Since the pair of you had started dating it had been nothing but bliss and though he was used to lover’s spats in his previous dating history it had never happened with you two. Well until today.

And it had hit him like a freight train. He didn’t even know what he had done but from the moment he had picked you up you had had a sour look on your face that no amount of sweet talking or handholding could take away. That had frustrated him which had in turn frustrated you which had led to the two of you yelling at one another until you had stormed off into his bedroom slamming the door behind you as a quite clear signal you were not to be followed. If he was honest with himself he wasn’t entirely sure what the pair of you had been arguing about it had snowballed out of control so fast. Hence why he was sitting on his couch unsure of what to do for the best.

He wondered what you were doing. Had you been crying? Were you cursing his name? Or were you sitting in his room contemplating what the hell you had been fighting about like he was? His thoughts were cut short as he heard noise from the front door and his mother and Dodger came in arms laden with bags. He jumped up to help, taking the groceries out of Dodger’s arms first and rushing them into the kitchen before he doubled back for his mother’s though she was already in the door of the kitchen as he took them out of her arms.

‘Thank you darlin’,’ Gladys said as he placed the bags on the counter and moved out of her way so she could start to unpack.

‘No problem. Was it busy out?’ he said, resting back on the counter as he watched her.

‘Not too bad. We stopped for a rest at Charlie’s though. Your Grandma’s knee was playing up again,’ she said as she moved around the kitchen placing various items in their new homes.

‘That’s too bad,’ he said though it wasn’t as receptive as normal. Gladys glanced around, noting the mopey look on her son’s face straight away.

‘I’d ask how your day went but from the look on your face not so good,’ Gladys said. Her movement slowed as she placed some items in the cupboard they belonged in and then turned around to look at him completely. He looked up from where he’d been staring at the faded linoleum flooring at his mother’s kind eyes. He could feel the urge to tell her the truth, she always pulled whatever it was out of him but he couldn’t this time. He didn’t actually know what was wrong.

‘It’s nothing. M’fine,’ he said.

‘Tell that to the pout on your face,’ Gladys said. She folded her arms across her chest making him sigh. He could feel that tug of her motherly gaze yanking the truth out of him.

‘It’s Y/N,’ he sighed.

‘Is she okay?’ Gladys asked, her movements returning once she knew he was going to open up.

‘I don’t know,’ he said, ‘we had a fight.’

‘Ah,’ she said, ‘what about?’

‘That’s the thing, Mama,’ he said, ‘I don’t know.’

‘What do you mean you don’t know?’ Gladys asked sceptically.

‘What don’t Elvis know?’ came a familiar voice as Dodger appeared in the doorway. She winked at him as she passed him, heading to sit at the kitchen table which she dropped into with a sigh of relief as her hand instinctively went to her knee.

‘He and Y/N had a fight and he doesn’t know what it’s about,’ Gladys said, ‘though I don’t know how you can argue and not know what you’re arguing about.’

‘He’s a man, Lovie,’ Dodger chuckled making Elvis roll his eyes.

‘It’s not my fault,’ Elvis said coming to sit in the chair next to her.

‘The fact you can't recall what you’re at odds over don’t bode well for ya in my opinion,’ Dodger said.

‘That’s the thing I can’t pick out one thing we were talking about that got us arguin’,’ Elvis said.

‘Well what were you talking about,’ Gladys said.

‘Not much,’ he shrugged, ‘but she’d had a face on her all day. Nothing I did seemed to be right and it just got under my skin y’know.’

‘So you got annoyed with her for being annoyed with you?’ Dodger asked.

‘Well yeah,’ he said, ‘I mean I hadn’t done anything for her to be mad at. Then she just storms away into my bedroom like I’m just supposed to know what the hell’s wrong with her.’

‘Well I’m sure she’ll come around,’ Gladys said coming to stand beside him and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder which made him smile, the first time he had all day.

‘I hope so,’ Elvis said.

‘Maybe she’s just having a bad day,’ Dodger said.

‘Bad week’s more like it,’ he mumbled.

‘What do you mean?’ Gladys asked.

‘Well today she’s mad at me for no reason and yesterday she cried at a damn advert on the TV,’ he said, ‘I can’t keep up.’

Gladys and Dodger shared a look that Elvis didn’t miss though it caused his eyes to narrow as he looked between the women.

‘What?’ he asked cautiously.

‘Nothing,’ Gladys said though Elvis didn’t look convinced. Gladys sighed, ‘it’s just…has Y/N been like this for a couple of days?’

‘I guess,’ he shrugged.

‘And has she said anything else?’ Gladys asked.

‘Well, she said she was tired but we were out late the other night so I just figured it was that,’ Elvis said, ‘why?’

‘It’s just that well…there might be a reason she’s not feeling too great,’ Gladys said slipping down into a seat beside him.

‘What you mean like she’s ill?’ Elvis said.

‘No, no, not ill…’ Gladys said glancing at Dodger who rolled her eyes.

‘What your mother is skirting around is that well, ladies, like Y/N, can often not feel themselves at this…time of the month,’ Dodger said. Elvis was watching her intently trying to digest her words the best that he could. As they sunk in he tried to wrap his head around what she was getting at and the way both of the women were watching him told him it was perfectly evident. Memories of an 8th-grade science class punctuated his thoughts making his eyes go wide.

'Oh, oh, girls’ stuff…right,’ he said uncomfortably. Both women heaved a sigh of relief as he finally got on the same page though his confusion hadn’t gone far, ‘wait why didn’t she just tell me?’

‘Because you men ain’t always right nice about a girl in her…situation,’ Dodger said.

‘Well I can't be nice about something I didn’t know was happening, can I?’ Elvis said feeling a tad like a scolded child.

‘Well now you know,’ Gladys said trying to de-escalate the situation. Elvis nodded thinking about the argument once more. It was easier now he knew it wasn’t something he had done rather something that was neither of their fault but he still didn’t know how to fix it.

‘What do I do? I mean to fix it-’

‘Ya can’t fix it,’ Dodger said making him frown before she followed up with, ‘it’s not broke. Look darlin’ she’s not some devil you gotta tiptoe around and she’s not some fragile thing that’s gonna break over a bit of blood.’ 

‘I’m lost,’ Elvis said.

‘You just gotta treat her like a human being,’ Gladys said.

‘Acknowledge you both got a little outta hand and admit that you’re sorry,’ Dodger said.

‘See if there’s anything you can do for her,’ Gladys smiled.

‘But don’t coddle her,’ Dodger chimed in.

‘Okay you two are confusing me,’ Elvis said.

‘Just go talk to her, okay?’ Dodger said. Elvis looked between their motherly gazes and then nodded standing up from the table. They watched as he headed out of the door, though they didn’t feel the panic inside him as he neared his own bedroom door. He lingered outside it, unable to hear you moving around which made him worry even more, until he worked up enough courage and tentatively knocked on.

There was a moment of silence and he was almost going to knock again until he heard your voice call out softly. He unlatched the door and stepped inside. You were sitting on the floor, your eyes puffy and red from crying though it appeared to have long since stopped. Elvis felt his heart flip flop. He didn’t come any further inside though still too unsure of what you would say.

‘Hey,’ he murmured nervously as he dropped his gaze to his hand on the door handle.

‘Hi,’ he heard you reply.

‘Can I come in?’ he asked.

‘It’s your room,’ you mumbled and though it didn’t reassure him he decided not to flee and instead closed the door behind him and came to sit beside you. Neither of you spoke for a moment. When the silence was broken it was you who spoke.

‘I’m sorry,’ you said.

‘What for?’ he asked finally looking up to find you watching him.

‘I didn’t mean to get so upset with you…you didn’t deserve me arguing with you like that,’ you said.

‘I mean it takes two to tango,’ Elvis said, ‘I shouldn’t have argued back…I mean I don’t even remember what we were arguing about.’

‘Me either,’ you said with a slight giggle.

‘Well it can't have been that important then,’ he smiled.

‘No you must be right,’ you smiled back. Elvis looked like he was debating what to say first which made your eyes narrow as you said, ‘what?’

‘Nothing…’

‘Elvis,’ you said.

‘It’s just…Mama and Dodger they kinda told me why you’re…I mean why y-y-you might not b-b-be feeling yourself…this week,’ he said tripping over his words as he felt redness rush to his cheeks.

‘Oh, right,’ you said feeling a similar flush come to your own face. You didn’t know why. It wasn’t like you were a novice at this but Elvis was your first proper boyfriend and so far your time of the month hadn’t been much of an issue until this week. This week you had felt unusually horrendous. Your moods were all over the place, you’d had a flare-up of acne and migraines and to top it off you had been gifted a horrendous bout of cramps [the worst you’d had in a while]. Which meant your tolerance for your sweet and loving boyfriend had gone out the window. You’d found yourself being annoyed at him the moment he had picked you up until finally, you had ended up screaming at each other for some unknown reason.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked after a moment. You weren’t. Your back was aching, and you had a migraine growing but the look on his sweet face made you feel better. He looked as though you were on death’s door, the worry burned into his pretty features.

‘I’m fine Elvis,’ you said.

‘B-b-because you can tell me,’ he said, ‘if you’re not.’

‘I’m fine,’ you said, ‘well I’ve got cramps but it’s nothing I’m not used to.’

‘Cramps?’ he asked.

‘Yeah,’ you said.

‘Is there anything I can do?’ he asked.

‘Not really,’ you shrugged, ‘I mean sometimes I have a hot water bottle.’

‘Right,’ Elvis said immediately standing up.

‘E what are you doing?’ you asked.

‘I’ll be right back,’ he said leaning in to press a kiss on your cheek, ‘get on the bed and I’ll be with you in a minute.’

You watched as he dashed out of the room like a man on a mission a smirk on your face. You slipped your shoes off and shimmied onto the bed, eagerly awaiting his return. You could hear him knocking about the house for a while until he finally reappeared at the door with several things in hand though he put them behind his back before you could see what he was holding.

‘What are you doing?’ you giggled.

‘I’m helping,’ he said with a beaming smile.

‘Oh yeah?’

‘Yep,’ he said.

‘And how are you going to do that?’ you mused pushing yourself back towards the headboard until you were sitting up against it.

‘Aspirin,’ he said handing you a little a couple of small white pills which you took from him.

‘No drink?’ you asked though before you could finish your sentence he was offering you a glass of water.

‘Thank you,’ you smirked as you popped the two little tablets into your mouth and swallowed them down.

‘Chocolate,’ he said handing you a little wrapped packet. Ding dongs, your favourite.

‘E,’ you smiled.

‘And finally,’ he said producing a hot water bottle from behind his back. He offered it to you and then gestured for you to lie down as he moved to take his shoes off so he could climb in bed beside you. He came to lie behind you, wrapping his arm around you as you lay in amicable silence for a moment. It was the best you had felt all day. The feeling of him holding you and the warm relief of the hot water bottle at your front was like heaven.

‘Thank you,’ you said after a minute of enjoying the moment.

‘No problem,’ he mumbled quietly, ‘though can I ask you something?’

‘Sure,’ you said puzzled at what he was going through his mind.

‘Next month will you just tell me…if you’re not doing so good,’ he mumbled, ‘cause I didn’t know.’

‘Well it’s not always like this,’ you said.

‘I know…but if it is…you can tell me. You know that right?’ Elvis said.

‘I know,’ you said with a smile.

‘And I hate fightin’ with you,’ he mumbled.

‘Well that’s something both of us can agree on,’ you said.

‘And..’ he said kissing the piece of exposed skin on your shoulder.

‘And?’ you asked, able to feel his smirk against your skin.

‘This ain’t half bad either.’

[gabessquishytum]

I know you're busy, and your inbox is so full of asks, but I just need to type this out cause this has been jumping in my mind.

WE NEED MORE HOE DREAM

Where Dream has successfully wooed very dense Hob (Desire is both horrified and impressed by Dream's seduction maybe they can collaborate in the future), and now they are living out every single dirty fantasy Dream has had. Starting with Dream fucking Hob while he's face down arse up and sobbing and clawing at the sheets.

Hob, having only had lackluster sex for the past year, is drooling all over his pillows and is non verbal at how deep and rough Dream is fucking him. Nailing his prostate at every thrust and saying the filthiest things. Promising Hob he'll eat out the creampie he's going to give him and he'll do it over and over again in all the rooms of Hob's apartment. Dream telling Hob what a swollen pink mess his hole already is, and the night is still beginning. Running his fingertips all over the pink mess while he's fucking Hob, thinking about double stuffing him later.

When Hob finally falls unconscious, he gets greeted by Dream in his realm where they can do it all over again and then some.

Hoe Dream is my bread and butter. My livelihood. The thing that keeps my head above water.

Just imagine Hob going from mediocre hookups to the man he loves, the king of dreams who can see his every fantasy. Its like 0 to 100. Dream’s dick is SO long, it hits the most tender places inside and he's absolutely merciless about it. There's no pause, no lacking in Dream’s stamina or ability to fuck into Hob’s hole over and over relentlessly. Of course he's made sure to finger Hob open beautifully so he's lax and soft inside and such a pretty pink colour! Hob's cock is massively hard and his balls are so swollen and tight as he claws at the sheets, and Dream keeps reaching around to squeeze him and tease him for how horny he is.

Honestly it's hypocritical of Dream to tease Hob because Dream is absolutely rabid and he can't shut up about how much he loves fucking Hob’s sloppy little hole. His deep sonorous voice curls around Hob like velvet and he just knows that when he passes out, Dream will keep on fucking his unconscious body. He can't think of anything he'd love more.

In the dreaming, Dream is even more insatiable. His power is at it's height and he can do absolutely anything. Hob is his to fuck all day and all night if he chooses. Desire can laugh all they want, but Dream has never been more satisfied. The best part is, he gets to have Hob forever and ever. Plenty of time to explore both of their hoe tendencies to the full extent...