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slttygeto · 10 months

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HEART TO HEART : GOJO SATORU

what is heart to heart? a show in which we bring two people who have history together to ask them a couple of interesting, heartbreaking questions.

today's episode: 27 year old Gojo Satoru broke up with his girlfriend 4 years ago, yet he cannot move on. does she feel the same? and does a person really not move on even after four years?

note: i started this…without a second thought. i dont know where its going or if its gonna do well. but i enjoyed it very much

a cold room, a white set, two chairs and a table—satoru gojo knew that the point of this very simple and minimalistic set was to make him feel vulnerable and uncomfortable, but a tiny vase would’ve been appreciated.

“why did you two break up?”

the ivory haired man leans back in his chair with a dry chuckle, fingers drumming along the surface of the wooden table.

“I was insecure,” he admits rather bitterly. “I just had a lot of things to work on, and letting go of her seemed like the right thing to do.”

“do you miss her?”

“oh, absolutely,” there’s a smile on his face when he says that, and sits up straight with his hands clasped together (an indicator that he was most likely anxious to be asked such vulnerable question). he goes on to squeeze his hands a bit and his lips are sealed shut for a bit before opening them again. “I thought to myself that I wouldn’t find love for a while after her—but it’s been four years, and I cannot get myself to move on.”

“has she moved on?”

“maybe? I’m not sure,” he lets out a nervous laugh and looks away from the camera before holding his head in his hands, there was a mental battle going on inside his head—before he finally decides to speak again. “I actually stalked her instagram account last week through a mutual friend and… I didn’t see a man on any of the pictures. she could just be super private.”

“was she private about being with you?”

“she would post pictures here and there, we didn’t like to keep our relationship a secret.”

gojo is handed a blindfold and he neatly wraps it around his eyes and waits, heart thumping loudly in his chest.

when you were asked by a friend if you would do this interview, a part of you was a bit hesitant just because you weren’t sure if you wanted to air out your love life like this and have to deal with the consequences of a potential future lover being upset about it—but when you were told that it was gojo satoru, your ex-boyfriend whom you dated for 3 years and were planning on building a future with—that is until it abruptly ended with no warnings whatsoever. perhaps you ignored the tornado warnings? were there even any to begin with? you will never know because you blocked him everywhere on social media. from instagram to his phone number. you couldn’t deal with the fact that he existed around you, near you yet you couldn’t have him.

four long years of not having seen him took a toll on your heart, as it sure gets excited the moment you spot white strands on top of a head that is laid out on the table. his sense of style is still so casual and laid back, but not in a cocky way. satoru has always been about feeling comfortable in your clothes but you notice his tense shoulders and his foot tapping and can immediately tell that he is anxious.

you silently pull the chair back facing him and he lifts his head off of the table. your hands rest on top of the surface and the producer finally asks gojo to take off the blindfold.

when he does and you two lock eyes, you both start smiling big but you can’t help the little tremble to your lips before you look away from the camera to wipe a few emotional tears.

“sorry,” you whisper but your mic was able to pick it up. almost on instinct, satoru reaches towards you and squeezes your arm reassuringly.

“when was the last time you spoke to one another?”

“four years ago.” you are the one to answer the questions now and you keep avoiding satoru’s big blue eyes.

“was it hard having to walk away from a long term relationship?”

“It’s always hard when you thought there was a connection,” your emphasis on the word “thought” makes gojo look down at his lap almost in shame. he had no time to explain himself or what he did, yet he couldn’t help but feel that this interview was going to be like a second chance to explain himself and perhaps give a proper apology.

“you had no closure?”

“nope.” you both answer at the same time and it feels as though feelings of resentment are starting to resurface as your demeanor grows cold around him and you pull your hands away from the table.

“why do you think you broke up?”

“you said you couldn’t really see us together anymore,” you were now speaking to satoru directly and he gladly took the heat of your words. “you said…that us being together was just a waste of time and that one of us has to walk away,” you were clearly hurt by his words, even four years later. the breakup took a toll on you both physically and emotionally. you were incapable of going on dates for a painfully long period of time that your friends had to drag you outside to meet some potential new partners—but none of them felt like satoru. you resented him for crawling into your heart and finding a safe space there, for settling down and building a warm house inside only to tear it down and leave as quickly as he came.

“I wasn’t… sure what I wanted to do at the time, I was confused about my future,” satoru admits for the first time ever. “I thought it was so unfair to drag you down that hole with me when it was so clear to you that you had a plan in mind—a secure one so I just-“

“left.” you finish the sentence for him and he lets out a pained laugh.

“yeah, I left. and when I realized that you had blocked me, I knew that there was no going back and that I actually did it. yknow, like, it wasn’t this bad dream where I would wake up and you were still beside me—you were actually gone, I made you leave.”

there was a long silence after this and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, not after that confession.

“did you miss me?” gojo takes the initiative to ask this question instead of the producer but they don’t complain, watching carefully as you look back at your ex partner.

“I did,” you say again in a whisper, almost scared that you coming to terms with this horrible realization was going to hurt you further.

“do you think that…we could’ve worked out had I been honest at the time?”

“satoru, I would’ve never left you as easily as you did,” you knew that it wasn’t easy for him, but you want him to know that your love for him was bigger than he ever thought.

“would you like to try again?”

you two stare at each other for a bit and you sneak your hand towards his huge palm, resting your index finger there and tracing soft circles.

“yeah… I want to. do you?” you look up at him through your eyelashes and gojo’s heart feels as though it is about to burst.

“I would love to.”

2023: all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

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#moon's works #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #jjk gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo

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eevees-hobbies · 3 months

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Honeyed Kisses Against Tender Flesh (Fem!Reader x Hayato Suo) - NSFW

Author’s Note: I got carried away with this one. But shoutout to those of us who write for Hayato Suo cuz we really are working with crumbs. Like he’s whatever we say he is until we get more information.

Synopsis: Your friend Kotoha and brother Hiragi are worried about your relationship with Suo. It all comes to a head at the beach, to your embarrassment and Suo's delight. No big deal, though; you’ll just have sex against Hiragi’s truck or whatever.

Content Warning: I’m a really bad judge when it comes to dark content. To me, it’s a spectrum and while I don’t consider this particular story truly dark, others might. So I encourage you to read the warnings and make the best decision for yourself:

Smut with a plot, the obsessive kind of love, possessiveness, hickeys, bruises, biting, spit, enjoyment of public humiliation, teasing, licking of blood, sex/nudity in public, super brief mention of a golden shower, praising/worshipping language, unprotected sex, no-pulling out despite being asked (wrap it up, folks!), like he straight up says “nah.”

Also, please note that you are written as Hiragi’s sister in this story. I do not expand on your relationship, so you might be his half-sister, full-sister, step-sister, adopted sister, etc. I say this for my readers who may hold a racial/ethnic identity different from Hiragi, hoping that you can still feel like this story is for you (because it is <3). Minors Do Not Interact.

Word Count: 3.2K

Divider by Saradika. Story banner by me.

On a day when you and your Bofurin friends decide to visit the beach, the unforgiving intensity of the sun makes you feel as though you’re simmering in a boiling pot. No one except you is ill-prepared; the men are wearing various colored shorts that seemingly match their personalities, and their unclothed torsos are on full, unapologetic display.

Kotoha, sitting on a beach towel next to you, is in a three-piece halter bikini set with a sheer sarong skirt that accentuates her curves. Even your brother Hiragi has abandoned his usual band shirt to showcase his well-toned arms and abs. You find it pretty horrifying but good for him, you think.

It’s hard not to be jealous of all the bare, suntanned skin as you take inventory of your fit. You are wearing an oversized grey hoodie and sweatpants combo that covers every inch of you. Underneath your hefty clothes is a simple but cute black two-piece bikini you originally planned to show off that day.

You are roasting under the sun's rays—and in your anger—as you glare at the person responsible for your attire: Hayato Suo.

He’s sitting on the beach towel with you, his perfectly parted hair blowing softly against the breeze. Despite his attempt at trying to appear inconspicuous in reading his book, you can tell that he’s very much aware of your disdain for him with the way the corners of his mouth twitch upwards.

Kotaho lowers her sunglasses so she’s looking at you over the rim of the frames.

“Why are you wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants at the beach of all places? I’m getting hot just looking at you.”

You shift uncomfortably, having hoped that this was not a conversation that would come up. You instinctively pull the collar of the sweatshirt higher until it’s tucked snuggly under your chin. “It’s not so bad! I just have to stay hydrated!”

Kotoha leans closer to you and lowers her voice, obviously trying not to catch the attention of Suo. “But why? Is this a cry for help because of you-know-who? Say the word, and I will scream.”

You and Kotoha have become close since you applied for a position to work at Cafe Pothos. She was your boss, but she’s also the embodiment of a girls-girl. You bonded over cooking and annoying brother figures; there wasn’t a thing you didn’t know about each other.

So color her shocked when one day she picked up her cell phone after receiving a series of texts that were coming in rapid succession. She had assumed the sender was Umemiya, but instead, they were from you!

8:50 PM: OMG 8:50 PM: You won’t believe what just happened to meeeeeeee ihfdnf 8:51 PM: SUO! SUO! 8:52 PM: He KISSED me! 8:55 PM: HELLO?! The love of my life just put his tongue in my mouth and you HAVE THE AUDACITY TO NOT ANSWER!? I’m heading to the cafe right fucking now.

Kotoha was confused, not because she didn’t think you deserved the world—you deserved the world and more. She was confused because she couldn’t picture you and Suo together. He was pleasant whenever he came into the cafe, only ordering tea and always leaving a big tip. But other than that, she didn't know much about him, and no one did, and that was a difficult thing to accomplish in a small town.

So when you finally ran into the cafe, practically colliding into the glass door as you shuffled in, Kotoha poured you a fresh cup of coffee, sat you down, and asked if you were sure about this.

Were you sure it was a good idea to date a guy who wore an eyepatch, had never been seen eating, and had a different story about his life every time he was asked? You assured her that Suo was the man of your dreams and you’ve never been more sure of something in your life. And while Kotoha may not know much about Suo, there were small moments that felt as though you were gradually building up to this kiss all along.

The way he’d offer to walk you home even though it was out of his way, how his hand would brush up against yours and linger when passing you coins to pay for his tea, and god, that smile of his that usually didn’t reach his eyes but did when he was talking to you.

You were adamant that this was something you wanted.

You didn’t exactly come out as “official,” though. In a strange way, your relationship just “was.”

Your friends acted as though you had always been together, and the way Suo became a constant in your life—walking you home after every shift from the cafe, texting and calling you more often, holding your hand in public, and taking you out on dates to your favorite places—made it difficult to remember what life was like before him. You quickly became the shadow of the other, and not without concern from Kotoha and Hiragi. Some would call your love for each other smothering, but to you; it was anything but that—it was perfect.

“Everything is fine, Kotoha, I promise.”

She lets out a sigh and pulls her sunglasses back up. You can see the reflection of the guys in her dark shades—Hiragi, Umemiya, Sakura, and Kaji playing volleyball, sand kicking up as shouts of, “get that, doofus!’ and “who are you calling doofus!?” traveling over to you but being drowned out by the roar of waves breaking shore.

A bead of sweat travels down the side of your face, and you look up at the sun, hoping to will it away with a pitiful look.

“Why not take off that burdensome outfit, sweetheart?”

Your head snaps in the direction of Suo, the tone in his voice–thick with faux concern–alluding to the pleasure he’s getting from watching you like this. He’s all too aware of what you’re hiding—he’s the culprit who put you in this situation.

He shrugs innocently, “you’re developing sweat stains,” you follow his finger as he points at you. To your horror, giant wet spots have formed at your armpits and collar. You groan, the realization that if you don’t shed these clothes soon, you’ll likely meet your untimely demise via heatstroke—and that’s a very unsexy way to go.

A shaky hand grips the drawstring of the sweatshirt, and you peel it off with the sweatpants following shortly after. Before you can set the clothes beside you, Kotaha lets out an audible gasp. You wince, knowing that your movements and her sharp intake of breath will surely draw the boys' attention—a result that you were trying your damnedest to avoid.

You thought Hiragi’s booming voice would be the first to reach your ears, but instead, it’s Sakura’s.

“What happened to YOU?!”

The volleyball spinning through the air hits him square in the chest; a loud thud has him doubling over in pain, but it’s not enough to break away Hiragi’s stare from the bruises and hickeys that litter your neck, chest, and thighs.

After gathering himself, Sakura stands up and turns his attention to Suo, “You should really keep a better watch over your girl. She’s obviously getting her butt kicked somewhere-”

Sakura is unable to finish before Hiragi interjects. He takes a step forward, and if you weren’t on sand, you’d be almost positive that the sheer force would shake the earth. “Suo, what did you do to my sister's skin?”

You stare at Hiragi, deep veins already protruding from his forehead. If looks could kill, Suo would be dead right now. You give a sideglance at your boyfriend, who has two hands raised near his head and his shoulders shrugged up to appear non-threatening.

“I am NOT doing this right now!” You proclaim, hurriedly picking up the keys to Hiragi’s car and padding through the sand, trying your damnedest to escape the sound of rising voices.

Suo follows you soon after de-escalating the situation. Assuring Hiragi that he may have gotten carried away with the amount of hickeys and bruises he left on your skin wasn’t easy by any means, but you two were both consenting adults, so there wasn’t much Hiragi could do anyhow. He desperately wanted to add that you didn’t mind the bruises when they were happening to you—but that didn’t seem wise.

Hiragi’s truck is parked next to the property line between the beach and the expanse of forest. When you arrived, the parking lot was full of people, but beach-goers packed their belongings and left as the day neared its end.

Suo can’t see you as he approaches the truck's passenger side, so he assumes you’re on the driver's side. As he rounds the corner, he’s met with the sight of you bending over and attempting to fish the keys off the ground, which must have fallen. The sight of your ass completely swallowing the seat of your bikini bottoms has him suddenly leaning against the car for support and blood flowing south. Even with one eye covered, he can see the outline of your puffy pussy. The bikini is much better, he thinks to himself.

You turn around, hearing the sound of gravel shifting quietly—hoping that your brother hasn’t followed you, but it’s Suo.

“Well, that was awk-“ you begin, but you're cut off. The fluidity and quickness of his motions still surprise and catch you off guard. He pins you in place to the truck with his body—chest to chest.

You can see arousal churning in his eye as his now rock-hard cock presses against your thigh. At that moment, you’re thankful that the shade of the trees shrouds this side of the truck and that anyone coming from the beach would need to walk around the vehicle to catch you in the act.

For Suo, the build-up of knowing what you were trying to hide from the group and the eventual reveal of his handiwork had given him one hell of a rush. Being in on the secret was fun, but the way Hiragi’s eyes darted over your skin, the way he caught Kaji’s cheeks reddening as his eyes swept over your exposed and marked-up flesh, it was practically unbearable.

Suo’s hand tugs at the string of your bikini top, and it doesn’t take long before the flimsy fabric releases and drifts to your feet. You shiver as cool air licks at your breasts and nipples, hardening the sensitive buds upon contact. It isn’t until Suo’s warm hands cup and massage your breasts that you let out a whimper; his touch feels firm and needy, delivering pinches and squeezes to the over-sensitive and bruised flesh.

“S-someone could c-catch us!” You protest in a hushed whisper, but you’re not pushing him away—you tilt your head back to rest it against the truck and arch your spine to give him more access to you.

“They’d be so lucky,” he growls softly into your neck.

As your stomach twists in arousal and nervousness, you know that the Hayato Suo who is fondling you in the parking lot against your brother's truck is a different Hayato than the one your friends interact with.

Suo is often poised and has immense control over his emotions, but sometimes, he gets so overcome by desire that it feels like a gaseous cloud is seeping into your pores and lungs.

You’ve become a welcome victim to the Suo that likes to grip you so desperately that he leaves bruises, bites you so hard that sometimes it breaks the skin, and fucks you so roughly that you’re confident that you’ve experienced the closest thing you can to death.

“Suo, we shouldn’t. They saw my bruises and the hickeys. Toma might kill you.”

“You can’t convince me that this isn’t something you want. This,” he presses two fingers against the seat of your bikini, which sink into the moistness of you, “tells me otherwise.”

Your face grows hot because he’s right. You’re not innocent in your shared dynamic like Kotoha, and Hiragi would like to think—you crave him just as much as he craves you.

You’re just as much of a thrill-seeker as he is but you two have to be quick; anyone in your group could come looking for you any second—and nothing would destroy your arousal more than Hiragi seeing your boyfriend fucking you in public. Suo would enjoy that, though.

It’s as though he can read your mind because Suo is pulling down your bikini bottoms so that they hang around your ankles.

His lips are on yours, his kisses somehow hungrier than his touches. Suo kisses you as though he’s found solace against the plush of your lips and the treasure housed within your mouth. He tilts his head so his tongue can explore every inch of you deeper; he’s unapologetically devouring you.

When he finally pulls away for air, his voice is low and almost gravelly, a departure from his usual calm tone.

“You make me become the most disrespectful version of myself, Y/N.”

His fingers roll and pinch at your nipples, but his eye is on yours. His gaze is intense, and even though he looks at you as though you are his prey and he is your predator, the last thing you want to do is look away.

He continues, “I want nothing more than to be the nice, sweet boyfriend your friends and brother want me to be, but you turn me into someone I don’t recognize.”

He’s pushing his shorts down, and you groan at the sight of him. His dick sits straight up against his abdomen with a slight curve, an aggressive vein pulsates on the side, and the crimson tip of it is smeared in an ungodly amount of precum. How can such a pretty dick look so angry?

Without much prep or warning, he pushes into your wet sex; he’s so deep so quickly that your body jerks reactively.

He can’t hold back the moan that escapes his lips at finally burying himself in you. His mouth has found purchase against your neck; both he and you can feel your pulse quickening, firing rapidly against his tongue as it reaches out to lick at your skin.

“When I look at you, just as you are, I want to ruin you. So if that means I’m covering you with bruises, hickeys, or the most intimate parts of me, so be it.”

He sinks his teeth into your neck, and the sharp pain makes your eyes roll back. The searing sensation doesn't last long as his tongue laps up the droplets of blood that bubble from the punctures.

“Tell me that you’re just as obsessed with me as I am with you,” his fingers are digging into the soft flesh of your thighs as he holds your legs around his waist, allowing him to bounce you on his cock..

“H-Hayato, I’m just as obsessed with you, baby. I promise.”

And you mean it. You’ve never felt a love quite so all-consuming and suffocating. He’s explored every inch of your body; at first, the way his eyes drank you in made you squirm, but he assured you that he was simply appreciating what was his—you wouldn’t fault an art curator for appraising the Mona Lisa, would you, Y/N? No? Then let me be.

Suo has licked parts of you with enthusiasm, parts that you’d be embarrassed to admit to anyone.

And for you, the taste of him is just as nourishing. When he pulls your head back by your hair, his hungry eye communicating to you without him having to say it, you find yourself eagerly opening your mouth and accepting his spit on your outstretched tongue.

The good girl muttered in his smooth voice afterward, and his infamous smile that reaches his eyes when he looks at you makes your clit twitch.

It doesn’t matter if it’s his spit, cum, or other golden liquid of his, you want it all.

During intimacy, Suo tears you down to the most basic, hedonistic version of yourself—his delivery never includes harsh language in the traditional sense—he would absolutely never call you out of your name. You are far too important to be called something derogatory. Sometimes you’ll refer to yourself as “his whore” or “his slutty girl,” and it will make him leak so much precum he has to catch his breath, but he hasn’t reached a point in which he has personally referred to you as those titles…yet.

For now, he uses deft fingers and honeyed words dripping in veiled threats of orgasm denial and overstimulation to push you to the precipice of your pleasure—and you trust him to build you back up afterward with softly cooed hymns of worship and strokes of your tender skin. To Suo, you are a goddess, a deity to be revered. To Suo, you are everything.

And it isn’t until moments like this that you see his mask slip. Your usually stoic boyfriend's mouth opening and closing in pleasure the same way that yours is, soft guttural moans escaping his lips and his brow furrowing, obviously about to lose control to you—-for you.

“You are everything, dove. You are my everything.” He groans as your silky walls clench around him, clutching him for dear life.

“You like it when I compliment you, pretty girl?”

You give him a grunt of approval, feeling yourself so close to becoming undone as he fills your head up with chants of his devotion.

At this point, each thrust has his dick bottoming out into your sopping-wet cunt. Pelvis to pelvis, you can feel every inch of you stretching to accommodate him. His maroon-colored pubic hair tickles at your skin, dampening at the contact of your slick as deep thuds from frantic thrusts fill the air.

And even though you’re only participating in a quickie, a rarity for you both, your cunt still drools just the same, streaks of it managing to glide down your inner thigh and leave droplets at his feet.

“S-suo,” your nails dig into his shoulders, resulting in a delicious hiss from his lips. “Y-you have to pull out! You aren’t wearing a c-condom!”

Suo presses his lips to your ear; you can barely make out what he’s saying over the soft gasps and the way he’s suckling at your earlobe that he has pulled between his teeth.

“I can’t. You’re mine, and I want to fill you up. So you have to take it, dove. Take all of it.”

And the way Suo says it, you know that he isn’t asking; he’s telling you what he plans to do to your body because you are an extension of him–you are his, and it’s his right to cum in you without silly obstacles like “protection.”

His pounding against your cervix feels animalistic, and the force of him fucking you is making the truck rock back and forth.

You bite your lip and hold onto him for dear life as that oh-so-familiar feeling takes over. Your thighs squeeze him, and to muffle the scream bubbling up into your throat, you take a note out of Suo’s handbook and bite his shoulder so hard that he sees a hot, white flash.

In that moment, you give each other everything—all of you becomes all of him—mixing into a mess of creamy, frothy white essence that drips down balls, legs, and thighs.

Between soft kisses on the fresh hickeys and bite marks along your neck, Suo chuckles, “Hiragi is going to be upset.”

#hayato suo x reader #hayato suo #suo hayato x reader #suo x reader #windbreaker smut #wind breaker #windbreaker

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randombush3 · 5 months

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a sense of coming home

ona batlle x reader

summary: part two of this! ona and you are (frustratingly) still just friends

words: 6.5k (i have NO idea why i waffle so much but lets pls allow it)

warnings: there's like five secs of smut at the end

notes: this has been the most self-indulgent fic i've written because this is how i met my gf and so i am glad to show you a nice happy ending

again, the quote is from 'this side of paradise' (said gf's fav book - i don't recommend however because the protagonist is a twat)

also i didn't proofread bc i am exhausted and i am hungover and i am very ready to go to sleep (#globetrotting is not for the weak) x

There is something difficult about forcing oneself back to their toxic roots. Ona discovers as such as she presses her body into a temple of meaningless sex, but she does so because she is a driven person. Ona is determined to get over you, once and for all, except she’d quite like to stay friends (hence why she agreed when asked). She also thinks it would expose her to fall out because her feelings shouldn’t have existed anyway, so she technically shouldn’t be heartbroken?

Anyway, Ona rampages through Manchester! They appreciate her accent – some even ask her to speak to them in Spanish when she is three fingers deep inside of them, to which she obliges with little fanfare – and it isn’t like the city lacks queer women. It is a super solid way to keep her busy, to tear her attention from hungrily checking your Instagram whenever possible.

It’s also what lands her with coronavirus. She’s embarrassed to admit just how many people she has come into contact with when the club doctors ask her questions over the phone.

You send her a lovely message after hearing she is yet another fallen soldier.

Ona is at home, isolating, and you are apparently trapped in Spain, unable to get into Italy. You haven’t quite made it to your parents’ house since your flight was supposed to depart from Madrid. “How come you’re not on the phone to one of your ‘connections’?” Ona asks suspiciously, wondering why this call has lasted longer than ten minutes. “Surely someone knows someone else and they can get you back home.”

“I’m hardly out of my depth in my own country,” you remind her with a twinging sigh, pained that she has suppressed all memories of your childhood. “It’s not like I don’t speak Spanish.”

“Didn’t you get rid of it in your head to make space for Italian and English? Oh, and French too, right? That’s where the fashion weeks are.”

You laugh at her pride for knowing something about your job, but it is not to ridicule her. “I am speaking to you, aren’t I?”

“In Catalan,” she points out. “Forget Spanish, but don’t forget Catalan.”

“I can’t. It’s the language everyone uses to tell me about how fucked you’ve been lately.” You take in a deep breath, uncomfortable with Ona’s silence but knowing your piece needs to be said. “Are you aware of what happened a few months ago? Why I missed the wedding?” One of your friends met her dream man and he whisked her off to Menorca for a small ceremony. Only the people she loved the most were invited, which included your childhood friend group. “We were in New York, a whole bunch of us. It was late but the show had been a big deal so we went out to celebrate, and… these ‘friends’, these people, they aren’t the same as you and me. Most of them are English, you know, and they come from very fancy schools where addiction is normal. Two of them ended up in the hospital that night – the bag hadn’t even made it round to me by the time they’d dropped. I know it seems far-fetched, but all I’m trying to say is that addiction has consequences. Bad consequences.”

“So you’re not on my side?” Ona isn’t taking this too seriously. A few people have joked about her questionable new hobby, but no one has made it seem so dire that they have needed to get you involved. You who, of course, Ona will listen to.

“I am always on your side.”

That is her main take-away from the conversation, Ona chooses, when it ends an hour later. She swoons, meaning the last twenty women have been a waste of time, but she also tortures herself into ignoring the potential problem. Being a sex addict would be embarrassing, so she won’t be.

Though your subtle shaming for her abundance of quick-fix flings is hypocritical, Ona would also hate for you to see her that way. You can avoid commitment all you like, but she is determined to be different to prove to you that she is a viable candidate, should you wish to stop stringing her along. It’s probably toxic; it probably means that you are both clinging onto a friendship that should either end or be labelled something else. It probably is the push and pull that has kept you interested, Ona thinks, because she knows that you like the chase.

However, as much as she’d like to be freed of whatever game she is caught up in, she can’t seem to let you go like that.

…

The next time Ona and you have a proper conversation about something other than how your love lives have been stunted or how people back home are not as successful as the two of you is when most of the restrictions have been lifted.

You waited out the pandemic in Vilassar de Mar, much to your annoyance, but now that you can travel again, the first person on your mind to visit is your childhood best friend. You’re not as close as you used to be, having drifted further during even more years apart, but it does not dull your love for her, nor hers for you.

Ona has changed her mind about Manchester and is forcing herself to like it. It works enough for a visit from you to be the last thing on her mind, and so she slows her response time down until the next arranged date to see each other in person is all set for the summer before the Euros in England.

You’re not quite home but you are in the country, and, with the pre-Euros camp in two days, Ona is spending the final few hours of calm left before the storm in the comforting presence of her mum and dad.

And… you, apparently.

“You weren’t supposed to be here yet,” is Ona’s greeting when she opens the front door.

Your smile is wide and genuine, and you are holding a gift bag in one hand. There is a nice bottle of wine in the other. “Not even an ‘hola’?” When no reply comes, you swallow the emotions that have arisen; the ones that are maybe, just a little bit to do with how soft Ona looks with her hair down. And the slope of her jaw. And the ghosts of defined biceps that bulge even when she isn’t flexing her arms. “I’m dropping by to see your parents. I thought you were in Barcelona with your footballer friends.”

“You visit my parents?” asks Ona curiously.

“Of course.”

With that, you side-step her and call out to her mother, announcing both your arrival and your desire to hand them their gifts. Dinner is just about to be served, and Ona is soon tasked with setting another place at the table for you as though the last ten years had never happened and your friendship hadn’t lost its innocence.

Maybe it would be better for Ona to not know what it feels like to kiss you, to touch you, to – dare she think it – love you. It would certainly make things less painful, and would have saved her from catching at least one illness and spending a good amount of money on Ubers to escape from random apartments. It would make it easier to listen to you talk about your life in Milan, where you seem to exist in a bubble of incredibly attractive people who are desperate to hold hands and form a raft.

“Modelling can be brutal,” you agree, nodding at Ona’s father as you follow on from his concerns about your career. He voices them regularly; whenever you see him. Ona realises you have spent a lot of time with her parents without her. “It gets quite competitive between the girls so I’ve been somewhat avoiding them. They’ve brought in someone new, scouted from Germany, I think, and I’m a little worried that I’ll have to switch agencies if they start prioritising her.” You glance at Ona, wanting to know if she is listening, hoping she is. You wish that she were as good at suppressing her feelings as you are. You wish she didn’t look at you like you hung the moon, because you know that you have to tell her you have hung it for someone else. “I’d move tomorrow, to be honest, but I’ve started seeing this guy and he’s convincing me to stay in Milan.”

“The minute he is your boyfriend, you bring him here,” commands Ona’s mother in a tone she hasn’t yet used on her actual daughter (said daughter has never mentioned anyone before). “Show us a picture of him! Is he a model like you?”

He is, and if Ona holds her fork tighter after she sees the photo you pull up, that is her business. You secretly take in her clenched jaw and furrowed eyebrows, and this might be the worst thing you have ever had to do. To see her so defeated, so hopeless, is upsetting, especially since you are harbouring the same feelings. However, you are able to admit when it is time to throw the towel in, and you can no longer live like this.

Ona is too perfect for you. She is driven, hard-working, and funny. She likes to nutmeg little children on the street, and she likes to buy them an ice-cream if they slip a goal past her, slotting the flat footballs into imaginary nets and celebrating as though they have just won the Champions League. She knows a lot, more than she thinks she does. She cares about people, but sometimes it manifests in anger, in frustration.

Any aspect of her is an aspect that you could love, and that is reason enough not to. Because how can you allow yourself to taint such perfection?

But, in this unspoken rejection, the compliment is obscured from the recipient’s view. All Ona sees when you gush about how he buys you flowers and takes you out to dinner, is a burning, bright question. It flashes red and yellow, both as a warning and cry for attention. How can she compete if you don’t even recognise her as a competitor?

…

“--And then they proceeded to finish a film they were halfway through as if it were the most normal thing ever,” Ona rants the minute she hits the concrete of Las Rozas, walking into the facility with Aitana and the other girls who travelled with her from Barcelona. Only the midfielder has been gracious enough to listen to the entire monologue, but the others joke that that is because Ona’s emotional state has led her to spiral in her native language. It is forbidden for them to openly speak Catalan in the Spanish camp, according to Jorge Vilda, who loves to hurl a ‘we can send you back to where you came from in an instant’ their way if he so much as hears a ‘bon dia’. Naturally, Aitana doesn’t give a fuck about the rule, although Ona chooses to believe that she is listening because she cares.

“Are you done?” Aitana asks thoughtfully, sucking on her bottom lip as she tries to absorb her friend’s crisis and formulate a valid, sensible response. The two have known each other for a while now, and Aitana remembers a time when Ona was relentlessly teased by their older teammates for being in love with her best friend. It is clear to her that those feelings never ceased, though she has heard through the grapevine (Leila Ouahabi) that you are now a model and you live somewhere in Italy. You’re part Italian, is what Leila also claims, having professed your ethnicity to a small huddle of fellow gossipers one day in the gym at the Barça training facility.

“No! Nothing is ever done with her. It’s viscous and it continues in a horrid cycle that has me flapping around in circles like some idiot. I am one of her boys.” Ona groans dramatically, the sound perhaps a little too loud. A few of the girls in front of them turn around to see why a cat seems to have been strangled, but they quickly lose interest when they see it is just Ona and her disastrous situation. “Do you know how fucking humiliating it is to be one of her guys? I am a professional footballer! I play for Manchester United, one of the most historic clubs in the world, and I am about to represent my country in a major tournament. I am successful, Aita, and yet I am still not enough for her.”

“Maybe she only likes men.”

“A man has never made her scream like I have,” she bites back. Aitana blushes, but Ona is too far gone in her rage to hear her crudeness nor preserve her friend’s sanity. “She’s been like this since she decided she was gay! Isn’t that hilarious? ‘Ona, I think I’m gay’, she said. I know lesbian breakups can be hard, but there is no way my cousin fucked her up to this extent.”

“I can’t help you with this, Oni,” Aitana laments, sorry to have to confess this to her friend. “I think you need to talk to her about it. A proper conversation to fix long-term issues, not like the ones you obviously had when agreeing to stop having sex and things like that. Only she knows what she’s thinking.” It is definitely not the advice Ona wants to hear, but she cannot deny the midfielder’s wisdom. “But for now, we focus on winning.”

…

You are more than a little confused.

To start from the beginning, Ona’s cousin fucked you up. She broke your heart, and that first impression of dating girls was incredibly traumatising. With girls, you don’t just kiss and sleep with them, you get close – really close – and then when you break up, it is like you have lost both a girlfriend and a best friend.

Men are a lot simpler. Men like you and they aren’t shy about it. They can sometimes be just as cruel, but you have never felt invested enough to care too much.

Some nights, you don’t fall asleep, tossing and turning between your sexual identity, aware that you don’t need to label it but desperate to… discover yourself. If you don’t understand that part of you, how will someone else? How can you be loved? How do you even know who you want to love you?

For as much as Milan is great, it definitely doesn’t help you with your crisis. Girls in Milan like to do what they want. It is not uncommon for the models to kiss each other in clubs, in front of appreciative male gazes or not, and then reveal their engagement to their future husband the very next day. It’s easy to be drawn into such a bubble, but the minute you step out of it, you are hit with the real world.

It’s what makes the pandemic so distressing for you personally, because you are forced to live like normal people for some time. Your eyes are held open and the question is shoved down your throat, and it really doesn’t help that Ona’s cousin never moved out of Vilassar de Mar.

She sees you one day, saying hello from a suitable distance as you pick up milk as per your mother’s request. “I heard you’re modelling?” she asks with no agenda, no seductive glint in her eye. You notice the ring on her finger, and she feels the heaviness of your staring. “Oh, I got married a year ago. Did Ona not tell you?”

You realise that you and Ona try to avoid talking about anything other than the love interests you have. “No, she didn’t. Congratulations, though. She’s a lucky woman.”

“You don’t have to pretend you’re happy for me,” laughs the woman opposite you, amused and somewhat apologetic. “Look, I’m really sorry for how I acted when we were younger. I was definitely not the most mature person out there, and I know I hurt you.”

“I cried for months.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeats. You suck in a deep breath, trying to hold the memories of your pain at bay. “The first breakup is usually the worst but at least it gets better, as you probably know.”

She looks at you expectantly, awaiting your confirmation. It never comes.

“I haven’t dated another girl since,” you tell her, sounding rather detached from yourself.

Her eyebrows furrow and she is clearly frowning behind her facemask. “What about Ona? I thought you were together when you lived in Madrid. It takes more than a friendship to do what you did.”

You were originally going to go to university in England. It was your dream, and Ona wasn’t entirely aware of the situation because you hadn’t wanted to tell her you were leaving. Then she was sent out on a professional contract to Madrid, and it wasn’t like you were the only one leaving.

Ona’s cousin, years ago, had suggested that you go to Madrid if you wanted to get away from Vilassar de Mar. “You’ll be close enough to come home when you’d like, but not so close that you’ll feel as though nothing has changed,” she had said.

No one had known about your offers in England aside from your parents. And Ona’s cousin, who’d only found out because you had called her, drunk on celebratory champagne, because you had to tell someone.

“You gave up a dream for her because you didn’t want her to be alone.”

“I moved to Milan. In the end, she was alone.”

“You sound like you regret it,” she replies, nodding once at you to bid you farewell and then heading over to a woman who is standing with a puppy in her arms. You watch as she pulls down her mask and kisses her wife, her eyes shining with love and happiness, and your blood runs green with jealousy.

You hate Ona’s cousin for devastating you once more.

Do you regret it?

It’s unclear.

You try to make sense of it when you don’t hesitate to fly back to Italy the minute you can, going home to lick your wounds at Ona’s non-committal response to meeting you when you are in London the next month. It hurts that she is no longer at your beck-and-call, but you are somewhat happy for her. You know that lines have been crossed and that she has suffered for it. You know that you are probably the one at fault here.

This time in Milan, you don’t fight it as much. You kiss other girls and let them go home to their boyfriends; you submit to the thing you had convinced yourself you would never become.

As you drive yourself deeper and deeper into your stereotype, the thought of Ona gets pushed away and newer, more culturally-acceptable fantasies come to mind.

It takes a photoshoot for him to ask you out on a date.

It takes returning home and gaining the approval of Ona’s parents (who are far more open than your own) for you to agree to be official.

You don’t ask Ona what she thinks. She’s busy, you reason, because she is representing Spain at the Euros. She won’t care who you are dating and she certainly doesn’t need it rubbed in her face.

There are many reasons why you go out with him.

One is that you do like him; he’s nice, he’s funny, he treats you well. (He’s not Ona.) Another is that rent is going up and him sharing the load is helpful. (He’s not Ona.) There is also that he is very popular within the agency, and your chemistry on camera is enough to keep your jobs rolling in and casting directors satisfied.

He’s not Ona. You know that.

That's the whole point.

If he were Ona, you’d be deeply in love with him. If he were Ona, you would never leave the house, never leave his embrace, never leave the little bubble created when it is just the two of you and no one else. If he were Ona, you would be excited about the conversations he gently guides you into; marriage, children, where you are going to live one day. You’d miss him more when he isn’t here. You’d care.

But you just… don’t.

Another year passes, more Ona-less than the last, and then she is suddenly coming back home to Barcelona, a medal around her neck and word of a relationship floating above her head.

You could ask her about it if you wanted to because she is still one of your closest friends, but the truth is, you really, desperately don’t want to hear it. While Ona has been falling in love with someone else, you have been proving your stupid feelings to yourself.

The act (your current relationship) lowers enough for you to go home for Christmas. You leave Milan as though fleeing from a hurricane, and you refuse to control the damage until you have entered the new year. Your parents aren’t entirely sure they want you moping about the house, confused how someone so successful can revert to a moody teenager the minute they are back in safe territory, and they heavily encourage you to accept an invite that was extended out to you a few months ago.

Your friends are going skiing in Andorra, and they’d like for you to come with them.

“Ona won’t be there,” one of them regretfully informs you. “She said she doesn’t want to make things weird. She has a girlfriend – or, I don’t know, a talking stage. She wants you to have fun.”

“But Ona and I are friends,” you try to explain, feeling exposed by the look of pity she gives you; the same look someone receives when they find out their ex has gotten married or something similar. As a defensive mechanism, you hastily pull out your phone and dial her number. Everyone watches you, now uninterested in their food as you dine and plan your holiday.

Ona picks up on the third ring, escaping her dinner with Lucy and rushing into the cool, nighttime air of Barcelona.

“Hi?” she says – asks – with raised eyebrows, wondering if you’re in danger.

“You’re coming skiing with us, aren’t you?”

Your friends hide their laughs behind their hands, surprised by how firm your tone is. You do not need it for Ona, because she does anything you say regardless, but they enjoy seeing this side of you. This is someone who has had to fend for herself in a foreign country.

Removing the phone from her ear for a moment, Ona sighs, disappointed in herself.

“Yeah, of course. I’ve missed you, you know.”

…

Skiing is not something Ona is really allowed to do. As a footballer, her legs are what pay her wage. Career-destroying planks of metal are not the best way to spend the dying embers of the year. She knows that. She does, she swears, but she is so eager to go that Jonatan cannot crush her dreams. He tells her, “if you get injured your contract will be reviewed, Ona Batlle,” and she promises him that it won’t happen. Nothing bad is going to happen.

It will be the first time she has spent more than a day with her childhood friends, and she is unbelievably excited.

Lucy finds it adorable and makes it known, helping her pack for her trip, versed in what to bring because her sister skis or something like that (Ona can’t really focus on her almost-girlfriend's monologue). Lucy likes Ona a lot, and it makes her stomach flutter when she thinks about Ona and her friends talking about them. She’s sure her feelings are reciprocated, and she cannot wait for Ona to return to her in the new year, all smiles and lingering hangovers, and ask her to be her girlfriend. Officially.

Your friends convene in the centre of Vilassar de Mar with two cars between you. There are ten people coming.

Someone, most-likely trying to keep the peace, instructs Ona into one vehicle and you into the other. The drive isn’t too long, but you suppose that the tension is uncomfortable for those who aren’t accustomed to maintaining a friendship despite the weight of it.

It’s five days, and you are determined to have fun.

Ona is naturally good at this, although she claims it is her first time. You, living in Milan, are just as advanced.

By the third day, the both of you agree that going off together to do some of the harder runs will be harmless. Spending the day together won’t feel like a date or a romantic holiday. Watching Ona glide over the compacted snow won’t be attractive, watching her cocky smirk as she scales the bumps along the side of the piste won’t do anything.

It won’t. (It does.)

And it just has to be the third day that someone pulls out two bottles of tequila and a drinking game that is going to ensure every single one of you is off your face by midnight.

In rooms opposite one another, you and Ona call your respective partners and tell them about how great a time you are having, actively avoiding telling them about who you spent the day with as though it counts as cheating. It doesn’t, technically. Nothing has happened. But, still, it feels intimate and secret; forbidden.

Then, there is a shout that rings through the house. Everyone comes to the table; the party has begun.

Ona finds out that she is absolutely terrible at drinking games, and loses in every way possible.

You find out that she is still just as touchy when she is drunk.

Your friends try not to comment on it, all having agreed upon yet another passive role in such an irritating situation. Their non-interference almost ceases by the time Ona climbs onto your lap, head turning as she whispers something into your drunk ears, making you laugh privately. In fact, someone has to hold someone else back before they shout at the two of you to make out or break up.

But it’s not really necessary, their prompting, because it hits a certain hour and… nothing else matters anymore.

Ona has been touching you the whole night and you have finally reached your limit.

Boyfriend be damned, you lead her to your bedroom.

She asks you many times if you still want this, and you cannot think of anything to say other than ‘yes’.

You’re not as drunk as she is, and you both know that, but everything feels so perfect and right.

When you wake up the next morning, your anger is more at yourself than the sleeping woman beside you, but she is an outward target for such a boiling emotion and it just makes things easier.

“Ona.” You shake her awake, not caring for her hangover. “Ona, I can’t believe we’ve done this.” She rubs her eyes, dazed and confused for a moment but coming to her senses soon enough. “I have a boyfriend, Ona, and… I don’t like you like that.”

It’s not true.

It’s really, really, really not true, but the fact that you have said it is enough for Ona to leave your room with the intention of never seeing you again.

She gets the train back to Barcelona, turning up at Lucy’s flat in floods of tears, and barrels straight into those strong arms with the intention of never mentioning what she has done.

…

You break up with your boyfriend a month later. Or rather, he breaks up with you, tired of being messed around, tired of your hesitation to fully commit.

The break-up is not the most upsetting thing you’ve been through, but your ego is a little bruised.

You try to make it look like you are having a great time in Milan, even though the agency has once again discarded your file and overlooked you for shoots you used to book in an instant. You try to seem like things aren’t falling apart, but it’s of no use when your father calls you and tells you that your mother is ill.

It isn’t cancer but it’s similar, and you know that you need to come home.

You pack your bags and leave without a second thought, because maybe Madrid was far enough. Maybe there is a reason Ona signed for her home club again and most of your friends still live relatively close to their parents.

Maybe you are not meant to be separated from those you love, because running away is futile if you are always going to end up together again.

In Barcelona, a modelling agency eagerly draws up a contract with you. Although you are from there, your career being based in Milan previously creates an international allure about you (or so they say), and you are assured that work is going to rush towards you as though someone has just knocked down a dam.

Your job is secured, your mother begins treatment, but there is something you cannot shake off.

It hurts to think of Ona, to think of how you left things, but it helps, too. Seeing her face in your mind is comforting. You hear her voice as you drift off to sleep, and you let it soothe you in your dreams.

“Ona has a girlfriend,” her mother tells you when you next visit them. Her frown is unexpected because all she has ever wanted is for her children to be happy and loved. “It’s not right, it doesn’t feel right.” You begin to shrug your shoulders and crawl into your shell, but she interrupts your thought process; “I think you should go see her.”

“Why?”

The woman rolls her eyes. “Just do what I say.”

You nod because she is so scarily sure about it, and you… It’s hard to believe, but you call Ona.

She picks up.

“I was sorry to hear about your mum.”

“Don’t worry. She’s fine.”

“Are you back at home?”

“Yeah, I am.” You pause. “Well, not quite. I’m living in Barcelona.”

Something fizzes in the air; pops, crackles.

“Need me to show you around the city?”

And it’s Ona, so how could you say no?

…

Your visit goes very well.

She takes you out to dinner and shows you around her neighbourhood. She introduces you when she runs into people she knows, and she is insistent about dragging you to her football match on the weekend.

Everything is seemingly forgiven and Ona is intent on integrating you back into her life.

She wants you to feel at home, though she knows you should already, and she wants to lessen the stress of hospital appointments and death and, if not death, then a difficult recovery.

You are sitting in her apartment – now devoid of all signs of Lucy – on her comfortable sofa, watching something together after a day of walking around and sealing up the cracks that formed in Andorra.

Sitting leads into cuddling and then into wandering hands that eagerly roam underneath layers of fabric.

Ona’s breath hitches as you brush the hard lines of her abs, your hands particularly drawn to them and just how strong she has become. “You must have only felt them on men,” she offers as an explanation. “How many have you slept with in comparison to–?”

And your hands stop.

“Sorry,” Ona mumbles, seemingly upset at her outburst. “I’m just curious. I can’t work you out.” She can’t quite look you in the eye, mainly due to the logistics of your position, but she isn’t sure she wants to see the truth attached to her statement.

You question if that’s a good thing, the fact she needs to ask; the fact that she has no choice but to communicate. It was going to happen sooner or later. “A few,” is what you settle on. Ona leaves it at that, carefully pulling the hair tie from your plait, unravelling it with one hand as the other rests against your stomach in an embrace. You smile. “You’re not going to ask who?”

Her fingers stop for a moment. “No.” She speaks so quietly, her voice almost a whisper in your ear. “I don’t care about them.” You relax into her more, feeling her against your back, feeling the softness of the blanket against your feet as it hangs at the edge of the sofa.

“Who do you care about, then?”

“You.”

Carefully, both her hands hold your hips and she sits you up, smiling as she does. You tell her she’s showing off, she replies that you are always showing off. To that, you brush those hands from your sides and lean down to kiss her, more decidedly for once; more in control. It’s a surprising feeling for both of you, the forcefulness. Urgency. Not unfamiliar, but unexpected for this time on this day.

The last time you kissed Ona, you had a boyfriend.

Your mouth goes to her neck as soon as she decides that she wants her hands back on your hips, pushing you down into her lap. It’s now a competition, you think. She’s quickly coming completely undone by your kissing and biting, but you are not ignoring the feeling as she makes you grind down, makes you need that friction. “Fuck,” you moan in her ear. She grips you tighter.

You start to pull off her shirt having had enough of the grey between you, asking if it’s okay, if she’s sure she isn’t too tired. Her reply is, “take it off, god,” and then the removal of your clothes that get thrown just shy of the wine glasses set out on her coffee table. Leggings aren’t the most practical for impromptu sex, but she’s quick and smooth and someone who has definitely done that before.

With your bare chest on display and almost nothing between Ona and you, she lifts you up for a moment with the intention of flipping the two of you, getting you on your back. You pause for a moment, trying to decide if she’s doing it because she wants to or because she thinks that’s the only way to do it, but her hands are moving now, up your sides, round the front of your chest and you relax. She laughs quietly, amused, because the tension dissipates, dissolving like sweet, sweet sugar in hot coffee as soon as your legs wrap around her back.

Ona asks before she does it, picking you up and laying you back down without needing to part her lips from your own. You watch her as she sits up, body in between your thighs. “You’re going to just stay there?” She shakes her head. “I can top,” you tease, a stark contrast from how it was the last time you did this. Ona doesn’t like being told she can’t do something. However indirectly.

“Yeah?” You nod, biting the smirk out of your lips. “I don’t care.”

You are in the process of rolling your eyes when her cocky mouth is put to good use. Your underwear was taken off at some point earlier — you hadn’t realised. Ona’s head moves between your legs, up and down, your hand that isn’t holding onto the sofa in her hair, the soft waves lacing between your fingers.

She’s good at it; thorough, practised. Her tongue circles your clit for a moment before dipping into your entrance. Something about the cockiness of her movements, her tongue, her hand rubbing between her own legs, makes everything more surreal, more blissful. She moans softly, lips kissing their way up your body, hands no longer focused on herself. Instead, they take the place of her mouth, two fingers inside you as quickly as it takes for her to ask if you are okay to carry on. Your reply (“yes”) is cut off quickly by her mouth on yours, tongue swiping at your bottom lip in another question of permission. You can taste yourself on her.

At her command, you sit up, letting her pull you back onto her lap as she sucks at your neck. “Don’t leave any marks,” you warn as her teeth pull a whimper from your supposed stoicness. “I don’t want the makeup artists asking questions.” It comes out too late, because you feel her teeth graze your collarbone quickly, not painful, no, but something that feels so, so good. “Ona.” She sighs in disappointment and adjusts where you are in her lap, so your legs are either side of her thigh.

You find yourself rocking slowly, letting her savour your breasts between her hands and her mouth. She whispers that she wants to see you come, that you don’t need to hold back – not with her, not ever – so you start grinding down, harder, faster. Her hands drop back to your hips, guiding your movements, forcing you to slow down when she feels everything building up. Each time, you let out a “fuck” and attempt to go against her grip to get that friction. “Not just yet,” she mutters, no longer touching you anywhere other than where her hands meet your hips and her thigh presses between your legs.

“Fuck off, Ona,” you breathe, frustrated. “When, then?”

She slows the pace even more. “Can you last a little longer?” You look at her face, brushing away the strands of hair that have fallen over her eyes, ghosting your fingers along her cheek, running your thumb along her lips. She smiles again, eyes creasing slightly.

As her hands drop to cup your face, you say, “you’re beautiful.”

Ona blushes.

You look down at her exposed cleavage, nipples pebbled against the sports bra that is unusually low-cut. It might border on intense staring as you begin to grind against her with the intention of actually getting off now. She laughs, saying her eyes are higher up than that, but going back to her trail of kisses along your jaw nevertheless.

For what seems like longer than a few seconds, the build up finally stops, the tower toppling over in a rush of pleasure. Ona’s hands move your hips as your head drops to rest on her shoulder. She talks you through it, telling you that you look so pretty, telling you that she’s so turned on.

And that’s when she whispers it.

It has taken years to get to this moment, many of them filled with unnecessary suffering.

It has taken years but it does not matter.

Ona tells you that she loves you and that is when you have finally come home.

#woso x reader #woso #randombush3 #barca femeni #woso imagines #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle #ona batlle smut

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https-lawrenceslittleone · 5 months

Text

Caregiver Katsuki Bakugo Headcanons

A/N: Hey!!! This is my first like. Writing related post. In a WHILE. Sorry about that!! But please feel free to request anything, I’m kinda bored. :P

Warnings: Minor swearing but I think that’s it ???

Bakugo is very aggressive. We all know this. Pretty much all the time, he’s aggressive and seemingly angry. And this does not waver or change, even when you’re regressed. So if you’re super sensitive, he probably wouldn’t be the best for you.

However, that’s not to say he doesn’t care. Quite the opposite, actually. He would die for you and actively goes out of his way to protect you.

Oh, he would get SO mad if anyone ever said anything remotely negative to you about your age regression. He wouldn’t even try to reason with them or have a debate he would straight up just tell them to kys 💀 (me core)

He does better with toddler or kid regressors, but baby regressors are fine as long as they can tolerate his naturally rough and callous behavior.

He did not know what the hell age regression was before he met you. Honestly, I feel like he’d come off as judgey at first. He doesn’t mean to, it’s just how he is. But then he’d go and research it a bit and realize that it’s not anything weird or fetishy and is instead a healthy coping mechanism.

He’s a little hesitant to be your caregiver at first. He says it’s because he isn’t sure if he wants to focus on anything other than training right now and being a caregiver is a lot of responsibility. That’s partially true. But it’s mainly really because he’s afraid he won’t be good at it and will just end up hurting you and potentially ruining one of your only healthy coping mechanisms.

It takes a lot for him to be able to open up to someone and take care of someone like that, but eventually, he does it. And he finds he enjoys it. He finds your little antics and your dependency on him really adorable.

He’s not embarrassed or ashamed that you age regress. I feel like nearly half of class 1-A regresses so it’s not unusual at all for you two to be in the common room, you sitting on his lap with a sippy cup in hand.

Sets you up on play dates with Kaminari and Mina all the time. He wants you to have fun and interact with other littles. Plus, they’re his friends and their caregivers are his friends too.

Takes a little bit to get used to nicknames as well. But finds he likes parental nicknames a lot more than he thought he would.

The first time you called him dada was something he will never forget. You were half asleep, snuggling in his chest, when you realized you were thirsty. You lazily grabbed his shirt and gently tugged on it and went, “Dada…juice…?”. He immediately knew what you wanted and he gave you the juice. He didn’t even register the nickname until a few seconds later and was really shocked. He didn’t say anything about it in the moment, though. He talked to you about it when you were big again and he clarified that he was okay with it and it didn’t make him uncomfortable.

Midoriya and Kirishima are his go-to babysitters. Mainly Midoriya because he’s more responsible than Kirishima. But Midoriya can get busy quite a lot. And Bakugo’s also a little anxious about you possibly liking Midoriya more than him, although he would rather die than admit that out loud lol.

He can cook. This is canon. This mf can cook like a 1950s housewife it is INSANE. He makes all your food for you, especially when you’re little. He likes taking care of you, even if he won’t really say it.

If you’re like me, and you tend to have really bad rage episodes and outbursts when you’re overstimulated or upset, he’s got you. He knows how to deal with that. He’s got a punching bag in his room that he lets you beat the shit out of if needed. He can make you laugh too. You’ll be beating the fuck out the punching bag and he’ll pretend like it’s a real person and say shit like “YEAH‼️‼️‼️ BEAT HIS ASS‼️‼️‼️🗣️🗣️🗣️” and it makes you giggle.

Surprisingly okay with physical affection. You wanna cling to him? That’s fine. Just listen to him if he tells you to get off of him. Respect his boundaries and don’t get in the way when he’s doing something important and it’s cool. 🙏

#age regression #agere #my hero academia #MHA #MHA agere #my hero academia agere #katsuki bakugo #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha bakugou #Bakugo #Katsuki Bakugo agere

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cursedcatvibes · 3 months

Text

WORLD RECORD!

re4r!incel roommate leon x roommate reader

word count: 3.6k

summary: Incel leon who thinks he’s above women and thinks he’s an alpha male. he’s an absolute piece of shit too.

tags/warnings: 18+ minors DNI! Smut, many many mentions of misogyny. He literally can’t find the clit. P in V, he wrapped it before he tapped it! Incel 😧. quick mention of abuse but it’s not super relevant to the plot. not proofread!

a/n: not much to say other than i cringed so bad trying to write leon’s character, but i was committed, i looked through incel forums on reddit and even got chronically online real quick. also i’m on vacation! so i’m not able to write as much as I want! :( i’ll probably post small drabbles but i will most likely have another full story up in a month considering I cranked out a whole 7k page fic and then now a 3k one. DONT QUOTE ME! Also maybe agent leon x agent reader next. @gettingsilly (my sweetheart who was so hyped about this! here you go my love!)

songs:

pussy - rammstein (highly recommend them)

behind blue eyes - limp bizkit (fun fact; this was the og title of the story!)

rape me - nirvana (this was going to be a non con but i changed my mind)

norwegian wood - the beatles (literally burns the woman’s house down cause she don’t want him😭)

happy reading!

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

Handsome. Is the first thing that came to mind when you first opened the door to greet your new roommate, Leon.

The rent was getting out of hand these days and you figured it was a way better deal to split the rent instead of living paycheck to paycheck damn near.

The only downside were the horror stories about roommates and even just random strangers too. It made you feel a bit queasy, but what else could you do, a recently single woman and at the ripe age of 25, technically you were in your prime for all types of creeps and weirdos to try and pull something, especially if you live alone.

So you bit the bullet and put up a craigslist ad, putting it at the back of your mind for now while you went back to getting rid of your ex-boyfriend's belongings.

You only remembered about it when someone responded to it and after a few messages back and forth you gave the address to him and told him he could move in tomorrow. Feeling a bit proud of yourself for even being able to organize such an arrangement.

The first thing you noticed was how absolutely built he was, he definitely went to the gym and it made you feel a little insecure for a brief moment, before you stepped to the side to allow him to enter. “Welcome to your new home!” You beamed, happy with what you’ve done to the place. Completely missing the way his eyes ran up and down your body lewdly.

He only wanted to have a girl roommate because he figured she would give it up easily or at least flaunt her body off to him, much to his dismay you were wearing a hoodie and sweatpants, not a single ounce of skin showing where he could sculpt your body out. “Prude.” Is what ran through his mind.

“Thanks.” He replied stiffly. “Where is my room at?” Leon asked as he looked around, he was kinda pissed off you didn’t show him any goods. He hated girls who didn’t show off their body, but he hated girls who showed off too much, thought they were just whores looking to get some attention.

So what if he catcalled them? Obviously they were dressing like that for attention and got all pissy when he gave them that attention.

You were oblivious to Leon’s degrading thoughts, too focused on trying to make sure he didn’t try to kidnap or murder you. When he spoke about where he would be staying you perked up and showed him the room while also giving a quick tour of the apartment.

You were even sweet enough to help him unpack all his things once they were all brought in! He owned some interesting objects, a bit uncomfortable to watch him unpack as he had a whole box dedicated to just sex toys. Fake pair of tits that were way too big to even be comfortable on a woman, fake mouth, fake ass, and multiple fake pussy’s. That wasn’t even the worst part of it.

It got all too freaky when he pulled out hentai figurines that had little to no clothes on, all in lewd poses with lewd expressions on their faces, more specifically ahegao. You could feel the initial attraction from him sizzle down to a mere speck of a flame.

How could someone just own all this stuff so casually, flaunting it like it was a toy race car collection? But Leon didn’t care, fictional cat women were so much better than real women. They couldn't reject him or deny him sex. (Because they quite literally couldn’t, they're inanimate figures.)

He had the straightest deadpan expression on his face and you got the heebie jeebies thinking about what he could’ve possibly done with all these weird toys.”So,” You cleared your throat awkwardly, suddenly feeling like every object of his you touched was just icky. “Where did you say you lived before this?” You asked curiously.

Leon glanced over at you, wondering if you were gonna pull your hoodie off and finally show him your tits if he answered all your questions, he was growing frustrated. Dammit woman! Show him something! He thinks this is the longest he had gone without jerking off or watching a porno. If you weren’t gonna entertain him sexually why were you still bothering him?

“My mom’s. She said something about me needing to move out because I'm too old.” He grumbled out, this gave you a major ick, didn’t this guy say he was 27? He wasn’t struggling to get money when clearly he can afford expensive sex toys and other items. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” You replied quietly, to which Leon grunted in acknowledgment.

Once you finished the box you were unpacking you decided the best course of action was to just walk away from this conversation. “It seems like you can handle the rest on your own, I don’t really wanna break any of your computer monitors and stuff.” You said as you stood up from the floor and brushed your hands against your pants.

“Okay.” Leon hummed, disinterested in conversation. All he really wanted to do was hurry up and set his computer up so he could jerk off in peace. You leaving his room was a bonus. He didn’t want to be downright rude and kick you out, after all, he is totally a nice guy. Plus he got the opportunity to stare at your ass as you walked out, he could see it jiggling underneath your sweats which was enough to rile him up.

You wish you could say it improved from there but unfortunately it did not at all. It only seemed to worsen. Like who the hell is watching porn from the moment they wake up to the moment they fall asleep. It’s all just yucky. The loud and over exaggerated moans that were definitely done for performance and not real.

The only time Leon would leave his room was to eat or grab some water, he always looked so dazed too, it made you wonder what he was doing in there, you’ve never seen him go to work so it made you curious.

Leon on the other hand was always so dazed or flustered in the face from the amount of jerking off he does all day. He once ran his dick dry enough to start cumming clear, rubbing himself raw damn near. It’s not like he tried not to get laid, he definitely did. But it never worked.

The way he carried himself was creepy, flaunting the fact he was a nice guy who could give a girl a good time. News flash! If you have to say you’re a nice guy, you're definitely not. Girls often avoided him in middle school and that followed him throughout highschool and even college. So he naturally drifted towards animated women.

He was hot but his personality quite literally sucked, it's like he would attract women because of his looks and as soon as he started speaking they lost interest. But you? You still greeted him every time he came out of his room with a polite smile on your face, offering to cook him something but he always declined because the mere thought of having a woman do something trivial such as cook for him like a traditional woman should, made him hard on the spot.

He had the normal views on life, such as all men do. Women are baby makers, they belong in the kitchen, they should treat their man like a king. It’s not like anyone could change his opinion either. He’s so far into the rabbit hole that his other incels praise him like he was a god, thus only further bursting his massive ego.

You didn’t think much of Leon, not in a harsh way, you just didn’t really know that much about him because you two never spoke like that. All you did know was that he watched porn, maybe a bit too much that was considered normal. It's not like you're shaming him because you watch porn too, but you have some decency, a bit of dignity and pride.

Yet your opinion of him instantly sours when one day he comes out of his room, which reeked with the smell of cum and sweat, the room was humid too, which confused you when you first noticed it. He wore an angry expression on his face as he stomped, yes, like a toddler would, towards the fridge to guzzle down a can of soda.

You, sitting on the couch mindlessly scrolling through your phone waiting for the time to pass on your off day, you planned to go to a club and slut yourself out to help remind yourself that you’re in fact hot and your ex missed out. Yet when he slammed the fridge door closed that caught your attention, perking your head up like a puppy.

“Uh, you alright?” You asked aloud, watching his eyes snap towards you with a frustrated huff. He figured if you put up with him this long then you must see the same misogynistic views he does about women. “No!” He scoffed out, dragging himself to sit on the couch next to you, like directly. Knees touching and everything.

This piqued your curiosity, maybe you could learn something about him? “What’s wrong?” You questioned as you shut your phone off, sitting up a bit straighter now, putting some distance between the both of you on purpose by grabbing a throw pillow.

Leon then started to rant and you’ve never been more disgusted and horrified in your life before. “I’ve been talking to this really hot chick and we were hitting it off, even had phone sex once or twice but when she asked me who my ideal woman was she ghosted me! Like what's wrong with saying women belong in the kitchen, or doing laundry, or even just cleaning. Women are only here to serve us alpha males.”

Your nose scrunched up while your face morphed into genuine horror mixed with disgust. Is this seriously his mindset? It must be a joke or something of the sort because no way in hell. “Is.. is this a joke?” You asked, feeling puzzled as you looked around for a hidden camera. Out of all the people you got stuck with, you got stuck with an incel of all people.

Leon stared at you with the most serious face he could muster, he wasn’t kidding, in fact he was getting a bit upset that you were thinking he was joking. “Women are what's wrong with this world! You’re all too soft and so ditzy. You all think men’s feelings are a joke.” He grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and you swear you can make out a dried cum stain on his clothes.

You felt so sick and also tickled, you’ve never heard someone or have been around a real life incel before and unfortunately this one came in the form of a super hot guy that wasn’t looking so hot anymore

“Ew..” You stood up from the couch and stuck your tongue out slightly. “Is that how you see women? No wonder why she ghosted you, you’re a fucking incel.” You scoffed out, to which Leon got offended. “So?! What’s wrong with that?!” He shouted, the tips of his ears turning pink. It was different being scolded by a woman in person rather than over the phone because he knows they can't hurt him physically but rather verbally. Plus it’s much easier to insult someone online versus real life.

“Do you actually hear the words leaving your mouth?” You questioned, staring him down intensely. Leon tried not to shrink in on himself, it reminded him of his mom telling him that he had done something wrong and now he was in trouble. So he doubled down and sat up straighter too, staring up at you.

“Yeah, and what about it? Why do women get so butthurt over every little thing?” Leon grunted out, rolling his eyes like a little kid would. You were just astonished that he was willing to keep going even after being confronted with the fact, but you weren’t oblivious to the way his ears were turning red from embarrassment. “Fine, if that’s how you’re gonna be.” You murmured as you sat down on the coffee table right in front of him. His eyes follow your form curiously. If he was being honest the only reason why he actually moved in with you was because he thought you were really hot from your profile picture and even the photo you sent of yourself to prove that you were real, per his request. He jerked off to both photos for hours. (Plus his mom really did kick him out.)

Leon went to question you in hopes of turning the table around to make it backfire on you. Yet as his mouth opened to make another snide remark about women you spoke up first. “Let me be the first one to tell you this, and I mean this too.” You paused as you stared right into his eyes. “No woman is ever gonna have sex with you if you have this mentality and mindset.” You watched his eyes widen a bit and felt some joy come from it.

Leon balled his hands up into fists in genuine anger, a deep part of himself knew she wasn’t lying but the other part was so adamant on her being wrong. Obviously she didn’t know what she was talking about, women never do. “You’re a liar. You’re just jealous.” He scoffed out, narrowing his eyes into thin slits.

You were absolutely not lying.

Far from it actually.

The closest Leon had came to a pussy is on a computer screen, let’s face it. No woman on earth would wanna sleep with such scum such as him, not even prostitutes themselves want to take on such a tedious task. They’d rather kill themselves or have their pimp abuse them than sleep with him.

“Really, name 5 women you’ve had touch you in a romantic way.” You countered, staring into his eyes with an intense expression. Leon opened his mouth to try and smugly name a woman until he realized the answer was 0, he had no names because no one wanted him like that.

It was a blow to his ego and it showed on his face. If he wasn’t such a loser with terrible opinions along with his shitty personality then you would’ve felt bad but you didn’t. It was his own fault.

“That’s not fair.” He grumbled, staring up at you with a slight hurt look on his face. He wanted to get back at you. Make you regret and eat your words. How? Well that problem was quickly answered as he grabbed your wrist and pinned you beneath him on the couch. A yelp leaving your mouth at the sudden movements.

“What the—“ You were suddenly cut off by Leon’s hand slapping over your mouth, he smelled of cum and sweat, it made you wanna gag and throw up on him. “I bet I can make you cum so hard you’ll forget that you were mean to me.” He hissed, his fragile ego was broken because of you!

You furrowed your eyebrows before rolling your eyes. “Whatever.” You said underneath his palm, voice coming out muffled.

Leon smirked and moved his hand off your mouth, gazing lustfully at your body. He seemed confident but on the inside he was screaming at himself. He’s never touched or seen a woman in such an intimate manner in real life. This wasn’t a screen this time.

He gulped and hooked his fingers on the waistband of your sweatpants, he was determined to make you cum if it was the last thing he ever did.

Once he removed your sweatpants he found you commando beneath it. His breath caught in his throat, your mound was glistening beneath the light in the living room. It wasn’t even wet because of him, but he was dumb enough to not know the difference. He stared in awe before looking back up at your face when you cleared your throat awkwardly. “You gonna stare or what?” You questioned.

Leon shook his head before putting his hands on you, gently rubbing your inner thighs. Making you think that for a brief moment he might actually know what he was doing, right up until he pressed his thumb against your lower lips and started rubbing them.

Completely missing your clit.

He felt so aroused and a bit cocky now that he was touching your pussy, his eyes laser focused on your face to see if it was feeling good. He even tried dirty talk too. “Yeah? Does that feel good? I bet it does.” Literally hyping himself up.

You found it hilarious and decided to nod, stifling a laugh as you let out a fake over exaggerated moan he hears in his crappy pornos. Leon let out a soft groan at the sound, his hips bucking up into the air while his cock twitched.

Now, Leon had seen enough porn to know that he needed a condom and lube, obviously they never showed the actors prepping the girls' pretty cunts, they just stuck it in. Spoiler alert, foreplay is hot! None is not.

While Leon ran to his room you took the opportunity to finger yourself, even if you were sure he wasn’t packing much you wanted to be somewhat prepared for a small stretch, you groaned silently, throwing your head back in pleasure, clearly favoring your hand over Leon himself.

When you heard his footsteps you quickly pulled your hand away and watched as he excitedly took his pants off. Wow, so much for knowing how to pleasure a woman. It was funny to watch him struggle to keep it together when he kneeled back between your legs.

“I’m gonna put it in now.” Leon announced, squirting a generous amount of lube on your cunt before (attempting to) rolling on the condom. (You definitely had to help him. The last thing you wanted was to get knocked up by some dimwit.)

He put some lube on his cock, jerking off a bit while looking down at your pussy. Not your face. When he stopped masturbating he slapped the tip of his dick against your clit a few times, your body jolting in pleasure at the sudden sensation.

This immediately boosted his ego and you were in awe he was able to make you feel partially good. He was just daydreaming of how tight and warm your hole was going to feel. His dick wasn’t that big either, it was average length, average size, average balls. Just.. underwhelming and average.

“What’re you waiting for?” You murmured, snapping him out his trance briefly before he cleared his throat. “J-Just trying to brace you for my cock, it’s big right?” Leon questioned, feeling a bit insecure but he wanted you to make him feel better, feel like a man. That was a woman’s purpose after all.

“Yes (no).” You sighed out breathily, keeping up your act, dragging your nails down his body gently, causing him to shudder and nod with a smug look on his face. He pushed himself in fairly easily, considering your ex-boyfriends cock was much bigger and overwhelming, accidentally clenching down around Leon’s sad excuse of a penis which riled him up, thinking you had came.

You definitely missed his dick and now was stuck with some crappy one attached to a misogynistic freak. A soft sound of discomfort left your lips and Leon took it as a sign that you were enjoying it. You must love it! He was so confident in himself!

So confident that after 5-6 thrusts he spilled inside the condom, talk about a minute man. He was a millisecond man. His whole body spasmed from euphoric bliss, he had never cum this hard in his life before, burying his face in your neck, sloppily kissing at your skin because he couldn’t kiss for the life of him.

You were stunned someone could cum so quickly, that had to be a world record or something. Quickest man to cum after sticking it in or some random ass title, you hadn’t realized you had zoned out about the Guinness record book until Leon pulled his cock out from inside you, feeling good about himself.

He was panting softly from the intensity of his orgasm, leaning back against the couch to gaze at your pretty pussy, he wanted to eat you out too, wanting to show you he was good orally too.

“Was it good? Did you cum too?” Leon said as he stared into your eyes, wanting to hear you sing his praises and take back your harsh words that hurt his feelings. Almost like a puppy waiting for its owner to praise them for pissing outside the house instead of inside.

You grabbed your clothes and put them back on, smirking as you stared him dead in the eye. “No, I didn’t cum.” You snickered as his face dropped, kissing his forehead quickly. “Sucks to suck, Leon.” You said casually, getting up to go to your room and nap.

Leon sat on the couch stunned beyond relief, his cock kicking against his thigh as he watched you.

He swore under his breath that you were lying and you did cum, after all, delusion is key, and delusion is what made him become your roommate to begin with.

#leon kennedy #re4r leon #resident evil #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy smut #incel leon #misogyny goes crazy in this one #writing ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚#leon kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy x reader

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lace-coffin · 10 months

Text

Slasher autism headcanons

Requests are open!

is this just me projecting onto other slashers? Absolutely! It’s like the spider man pointing at eachother meme but it’s just me and slashers both having autism 😌

Tw: slight mentions of meltdowns and self injuring stims

Billy Lenz

*slaps him like the hood of a car* “do you know how much autism you can fit in here?”

Billy struggles with loud noises especially repetitive ones. He often holds the phone far away from his ear when calling the sorority because he can’t stand the call tone. please get him some headphones or ear defenders

Despite this he enjoys making a lot of noise through vocal stimming/echolalia, picking up on words or phrases he hears from you or the others at the sorority. He usually has a record playing to keep him from getting under-stimulated, though this can be a delicate balance because sometimes it helps and sometimes it’s too much and annoys him.

Billy is hyper verbal (this may be more of an adhd thing I’m unsure) he has so many thoughts he needs to voice to the point where it feels like he’s going to explode if he doesn’t get them out audibly. He does struggle knowing when it’s his turn to talk though so he may accidentally talk over you.

Billy tends to get along with animals better, connecting to them just feels easier and more natural. He loves to hang out with Claude and rub his face against his fur.

Billy often throws and breaks things during meltdowns, doing it in the heat of the moment and regretting it later if it was something he cared about. Please reassure him it’s not his fault and help him clean it up/ fix it when he feels ready to be around people again.

May not be purely and autism thing but affection bites for sure

Bubba sawyer

Bubba stims in a lot of ways. Flapping his hands in excitement and doing little dances. I think She would play with the charms on her bracelet she took from Pam when they don’t feel safe to openly stim, say he’s in public somewhere he’s not familiar with or dealing with victims.

They have a habit of hitting their head with their fists during meltdowns and pacing (as seen in the og movie when she’s upset about the victims breaking in when no one’s home)

Bubba is also hyper empathetic, other peoples emotions have a big effect on them, sometimes making it hard to settle when their family is distraught.

Non verbal- speaking feels unnatural and straining for her, her family have never pushed him to talk since it’s clear it’s uncomfortable so she’s happy to communicate via noises and body language. Communication cards may be helpful for when more complex answers are needed.

Loud noises aren’t really a problem for her since he’s running around with a loud ass chainsaw all day but it can become grating after a long day if they’re overstimulated already, they’ll push through it and get the task done but he’ll need some time alone in his room to recuperate after.

Doesn’t leave the house super often, they’re much comfier to be home around people they know. She does occasionally go shopping with Drayton and their siblings but it’s very taxing on her because of all the stimuli so it’s not super often.

Michael Myers

I think he’d have a very specific pallet, not liking inconsistencies in its foods and preferring to stick to the stuff it knows it likes. he has such a sweet tooth and eats a bunch of candy. It likes the texture differences in different kinds of sweets, jelly is a particularly good one. Mikey eats a lot of grilled cheese to, it’s mum used to make it for him a lot as a kid and it’s a staple safe food for him. He likes his food bland and beige (me to mikey)

Very specific about his clothing, labels are an absolute no go and need to be cut out. He only likes to wear one brand of coveralls because they’re the only ones it feels sits right without making him want to crawl out of his skin. So basically its wardrobe is just a bunch of the same brand coveralls. (Like SpongeBob with his identical wardrobe lol)

Non verbal through choice, mikey can talk but finds it uncomfortable to do so it usually doesn’t. If he really needs to get something across that he can’t then it’ll use sign.

Low empathy, Michael feels empathy for people close to him like his mother or you but not for others. He doesn’t really understand why he should care about people unimportant to him.

It’s part of Michael’s routine for you to go to bed together at the same time, it gets gradually more antsy the longer you stay up over bedtime. Eventually if he deems what you’re doing not worthy of staying up for he’ll just pull you away from it and carry you to bed. It also sleeps in a specific position, he has the whole bed to sleep in but prefers to curl up in the same way he did back at smiths grove, apart from there he didn’t have a choice. If you’re asleep and splayed out Michael would rather sleep on the sofa so he can be in its comfy position. He also probably won’t touch you if your wearing pyjamas with a bad texture, brushed cotton is a no and he won’t be cuddling you unless you’re in a safe textured set.

Doesn’t like eye contact much, he feels more comfortable in looking at peoples face if it’s wearing a mask, it’s less intimate and awkward.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms can go from very clingy to not wanting to be touched very quickly. He adores being attached to you anyway he can, like cuddling you from behind when cooking or wrapping himself around you in bed. Despite this Brahms can get overwhelmed with touch sometimes, the feeling of ‘to much’ buzzing under his skin. If this is the case then he’ll likely need time to himself back in the walls.

Brahms likes everything to be on schedule and to follow the rules. Like we see in the movies he gets upset when his rules are ignored since it throws of his routine and schedule. If you need to do anything extra or take something off the schedule please let him know in advance so he has time to process it.

Low empathy but only for people not super close to him. He understands how he’s expected to react socially to peoples problems/pain and can show it through masking but it’s purely because he thinks it’s what he has to do.

The walls are a safe space for him. His room was the place he felt calmest after what happened with his parents, its decorated to his taste and dimly lit as not to hurt his eyes. His room has everything he needs within close distance so if he’s feeling low on spoons then the fridge is only a few steps away. Plenty of blankets for pressure/burying himself into.

Also we can’t ignore the fact he literally masks with his porcelain doll mask lol

I think Brahms would use too much eye contact as opposed to none, he was taught it was polite in his lessons as a boy and took it slightly to literally. He loves to stare at you affectionately < 3

Asa emory

Special interest in bugs and entomology! I headcanon that he mostly became a professor so he can info dump about his special interests all day to his hearts content. He can get frustrated quickly if he feels he’s not being listened to.

(Ignoring the shitty enclosures in the collector bc I say so) I think proper husbandry would be important to him, he researches for days before he feels comfortable setting up a home for his specimens. If he’s feeling overwhelmed he likes to sit with his bug enclosures, watching over them and rocking himself.

Asa connects to his bugs more, finding them easier to understand , bugs tend to have more readable body language so it’s easier to tell when they want to be left alone without pressing to far. A person may say they’re not upset but are only hiding it to be polite. A tarantula will bare its fangs and let you know when it’s had enough.

Asa is very precise in his traps, planning them thoroughly before assembling, however he can get overwhelmed and upset say if a wire snaps repeatedly or the trap won’t work as it’s supposed to. He can feel himself boiling over and will abruptly stand from him chair, taking himself over to his bug collection to distract himself and hopefully avoid a meltdown.

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tmntxthings · 3 months

Note

Anon from before who asked about the request! So happy to hear you’re interested I’m so excited!! I can’t remember if there is a word limit to asks so I may have to send this in two parts. I’ll refer to future Leo as F!Leo and regular Leo as just Leo

So the request is inspired by that one shot you did were Future Leo (rip-) ends up in the past and sees his younger s/o, yelling at his younger self to cherish them before they’re gone

That request? *chefs kiss* mwah, le magnifique~

So a what if idea for a bittersweet contention!

So F!Leo is stuck at the lair while the bros are out patrolling, it’s been a while since F!Leo ran into his s/o’s younger self, and he’s adamant on not letting it happen again. It’s easier for everyone that way…but then his s/o shows up at the lair, looking for younger him. He’s panicked, naturally, but eventually his younger s/o stumbles into him (it’s not like F!Leo had anywhere else to hide aside from the lair anyway). F!Leo speaks in short sentences to his younger s/o as they try to make small talk while making some tea, saying they can just wait for the boys to get back (to F!Leo’s slight, very mild annoyance)

F!Leo is trying to be polite, but the lasting sting is still there

The sting that tells him yes, this is his darling, but it’s not HIS darling. His darling died to the Kraang, he let them down. This alternate version of her wasn’t his. His s/o was gone, nothing was going to bring her back.

While Leo is showing off at nothing, his younger s/o ends up burning themselves with the hot water, having been distracted. Instantly, F!Leo is up out of his chair and making a beeline to them. He’s carefully inspecting their hand, assuring that it’s not a serious burn, and careful getting them a wet flannel

There’s a beat of awkward silence as F!Leo focuses intently on his younger s/o’s hand to avoid looking at their face, meanwhile, his s/o shifts uncomfortably….but F!Leo has his attention on them when they nervously speak up “Do you…not like me, or something?”

Before F!Leo can even say anything, in a desperate, nervous tone, his s/o could reply with soemthing along the lines of

“I mean- it’s just, ever since we met it..it just feels like you’ve been avoiding me? Whenever I come round you’re always so quite, a-and whenever I talk to you it’s like, I dunno, you always try to use as few words as possible? Yet when you talk with the others, you seem fine”

His s/o would then go on to ask if they did something to upset him, or if in in his timeline she did something bad. All the while F!Leo is just sat there, stunned, because he made his younger s/o feel like they where doing something *wrong?*

Maybe for a fluffy/happy ending it could be wrapped up with F!Leo admitting that - in his timeline - he messed up the lives of so many people (due to the Kraang war). I doubt he’d admit his s/o died in his timeline, but he still has a sad, broken expression on his face as he recalls the day he lost them, HIS s/o.

But then, before he can start crying, his younger s/o places her hand on his arm and says something reassuring? Maybe how no matter how messy things might have been, if she got to spend a messy future with Leo, they’d be happy

Anywho sorry this is SUPER long plz take your time and no worries if you don’t wanna do this one since I know the FUture Leo post was a while ago!

一∑Timeline。・゜・

author’s notes: anon lemme just say, you are most definitely a writer, likeeee i hope you have a writer blog 🙌 phenomenal!! this may be a tad more sad than u wanted 😅

warnings: angst, fluff, unedited, flashbacks, mentions of death?

The work we are discussing ↑

→ Blast From the Past ←

—————————————————————————

This was uncharted territory. Which of course shouldn’t be a big deal to Leo. Not after dealing with Yokai or the Hidden City. Weird shit happens down there all the time. Mysticism is something that no one really understands. (Which drove Donnie crazy) And let’s not forget about the organized crime, like the Foot Clan. Or literal aliens escaping from a prison dimension.

No Man’s Land should be right up Leo’s alley with a track record like that. He should be used to the weird, to the abnormal.

But even with the world’s fate suddenly thrust into his hands, Leo may pick that over getting thrown back into the past. Or a different timeline. Whatever. See! It’s already getting confusing.

Alas fate doesn’t give two shits as to what Leo would rather choose. So here he is, six months later after being dropped 40 years back in time. Back before he royally screwed everything up for everyone. It was heavy at first. The burden of not repeating the same mistake twice. With that out of the way, Kraang imprisoned once again, Leo felt like his purpose was complete.

That was why he got sent back wasn’t it? To right his wrongs. Shouldn’t he have gone up in a cloud of dust? Or a portal should’ve opened up for him to waltz into?! Needless to say none of that happened. So he’s still here, with a bunch of teenagers and his dad and April. All alive and healthy and happy.

Talk about a culture shock. Leo could eat good food again. Go to sleep with both eyes closed. Or well, try to. Old habits die hard. He tries to keep to himself for the most part. There is this weird sense of déjà vu that happens when he runs into anyone from this timeline. Over time the feeling has faded, especially to those who he can’t really avoid. All the brothers check in on him regularly. Leon, (his younger self) begrudgingly does so.

Ever since they had that little spat Leon maintains a certain distance which is perfectly fine with Leo. Boundaries are good. Leo feels safe for the most part in the lair.

That is until you come in. Leo would’ve heard you coming if he hadn’t had headphones on. A luxury that he lost in his own timeline. He missed music. Reading comics. So he thoroughly enjoys all of those things now.

His hearing is a bit impaired due to y’know a war lifestyle. Gunshots and laser canons and all the other weapons Donnie could piece together took their toll overtime. So when he listens to music he has to turn it up pretty high. (Which he would’ve done anyhow).

Leo sits motionless in Dad’s recliner, eyes wide as he watches you shake your umbrella. It’s obviously raining topside. Little water droplets hit the cement floor. Like your umbrella, you aren’t exactly dry either.

You haven’t noticed him yet. Leo hasn’t seen you since the very first time. Back on the rooftops when he used to patrol with the boys. You haven’t changed a bit, and that nostalgic feeling takes over. He sees you and your future self. The way you move, the way you groan in dismay at the tears in your umbrella. How you run your fingers through your damp hair. It’s all so achingly familiar.

Maybe he can make a quick portal getaway. Maybe you’ll never have to know he was here. Maybe if he doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe, you won’t see him.

But as you sigh and place the umbrella propped up to dry, you finally check your surroundings. Your own eyes widening before a smile graces your face. It’s more than he deserves. He wishes he could smile back. But his mouth doesn’t move, in fact it feels like he ate sand. It’s dry and uncomfortable. He’s uncomfortable.

He watches on as you begin to speak. The older version of yourself still right beside you, doing the same thing. Mimicking. Leo swallows as he schools his features and tugs the headphones down to hang around his neck.

“W-what was that?” He asks, clearing his throat after the words come out a bit stilted.

“I hadn’t realized anyone was home! It sure is pouring down and I happened to be nearby when the wind suddenly ramped up and—“ You point over to your damaged umbrella.

“The darn thing couldn’t handle the weather! So I decided to come take refuge here until it dies down.” You pause for a moment. Then continue.

“I called Donnie after getting past the manhole cover. Something about a day in the Hidden City..?”

Leo nods.

You shift your weight. Still standing by the entrance. A bead of rainwater slowly making its way from your hairline, down your cheek, to your jaw. “So I guess they won’t be back til later!” You add on.

“Yeah,” is all Leo can think to say.

He doesn’t want to talk to you. Well he does. But he knows he shouldn’t. He really really shouldn’t. It’s a bad idea for multiple reasons. Even if you already know he’s from the future and all that drama. The less you know the better.

And yet, he can’t help but notice how you’re starting to shiver. His tongue clicks inside his mouth. He’ll just get you a blanket. That’s it! After that he’ll go off to his own subway car.

Leo stands, grabbing a throw blanket off the back of the old couch and walks over to you. He offers the blanket, his eyes firmly planted on the ground. You’re wearing converse, socks that go up to what he would guess is your mid-shin.

Your hand grazes his as you take the blanket. “Thank you,” and that’s all it takes for his eyes to be magnetically drawn upwards. He doesn’t deserve those words. “It’s nothing. You should go sit… or whatever! I’ll get out of here-“ Leo is moving as he talks. Already tearing his gaze away, turning his shell towards you. Making for the exit. To go to his room and hide.

“Don’t go!” You call out to stop him. And he does. Immediately he stills. His shoulders tense as he closes his eyes. Déjà vu. You’ve said that before. In the future...in his timeline. So many times.

“Leo don’t go, we can last a little while longer on the supplies we have.”

“The longer we wait the more dire of a situation it’ll be later on, don’t worry I’ll be back, I’ll be safe,”

“Please don’t go! This mission is impossible!”

“It’s not impossible Donnie ran the numbers and our chances aren’t zero, not trying at all makes it impossible hermosa, don’t worry I’ll be back, I’ll be safe,”

“Y/N?! Nononono. C’mon not like this. You can’t leave me. You’re the one always saying don’t go. So you can’t go either! Don’t go, don’t go, don’t go, please don’t go!

“Leo?” You say softly. He must’ve missed the sound of your footfalls. Because your voice is right behind him. Next to him once more. “Okay,” he sighs after a moment. He turns to see you bundled up in the blanket and squashes down the complicated feelings that try to bubble to the surface.

“Let’s go to the kitchen, Splinter has tea right? Or should I try for the hot chocolate stash?” Leo wonders if these questions are purposefully asked to get him to answer. Thankfully you just keep on talking. You grab onto one of his fingers, and gently pull for him to follow.

So he does, into the kitchen you both go. You tug him towards a stool, where he sits as you get busy. Chatting away about different kinds of tea. How it isn’t your preferred drink but it’s sure to warm you up. Asking what his own favorite is to which he shrugs. Leo’s decided nonverbal is the hill he wants to die on.

You keep on talking. Wondering aloud how the trip to the Hidden City is for everyone. Leo has a feeling that if everyone split up like last time, it’s probably just as hectic as before. Nothing ever goes as planned down in that city.

“The future must’ve been rough…”

Leo blinks, as looks over at you. You’re leaning your back against the countertop. Next to the stove where a kettle has been placed on the nearest burner. Your arms are crossed and you meet his gaze, you don’t say anything else.

“Yeah? What gave it away?” Leo can only let out a dry chuckle. Attempting at humor and failing miserably. His eyes can’t handle staring at you for too long. So his gaze wanders away, finding the silhouette of your future self once more. He looks away from future you as well. He can’t handle that either.

“I don’t know. Maybe your eyes? Like you’ve seen stuff… bad stuff and it haunts you.” And Leo can’t help but think how perceptive you are. He always felt seen when it came to you. He couldn’t hide for long with you in the room. His good hand squeezes into a fist.

“Yeah..?” His voice is weak in his own ears. Cracking. Fragile. And he smells you. The scent of rainwater and lingering tones from your perfume. They get closer. And he closes his eyes. Because they are filling with tears. He breathes in, and out. Then opens to see you standing before him. Even with his sitting down in the stool he’s just a tad bit taller. But he feels so small under your gaze.

“It’s okay,” you whisper. As if you could possibly know. If the boys told you all they knew, that Leo had failed the world, that Kraang had invaded not just New York. That the resistance he led had slowly but surely been picked apart until it was only him left standing. You don’t know what you’re talking about. He knows this, and yet he finds so much comfort in those words.

Maybe because they are coming from you. He doesn’t say anything as his eyes fill with tears once more. And he can’t help but be annoyed at that fact. That all he wants to do is cry around you. He looks up at the overhead light hoping to burn his retinas into submission. That he won’t cry.

Then he feels you touch his good arm. And he doesn’t flinch. But he stills. Not moving at all. As you slowly get closer, coming to stand in between his legs. And your arms go up around his neck. And you hug him.

Leo is frozen. The light above going a bit fuzzy. A second passes. Two. Three. And Leo thaws as you continue to hold him. His own hands going around your sides, pulling you in impossible closer. His chest starting to heave, tears starting to fall, so he squeezes his eyes shuts and buries his snout into the warmth of your neck.

It’s not exactly the same. Your scent is just slightly different from the you in the future. But he can almost imagine it is you from his timeline. That you’re okay. Telling him that all the things he did, tried to do—

“It’s okay Leo,” your hand is soft as it goes up and down the top part of his shell. Maybe you do know. Maybe his eyes did give it all away. And despite his eyes being shut so tightly, tears still manage to leak out.

“Thanks” he croaks into your skin. Allowing himself this one reprieve. Or maybe he just can’t help himself now that you’re here in his arms. He nuzzles his snout into your skin. Just once. His hands tighten around your sides, just once. Before he goes slack and the sound of the kettle is piercing as it squeals. His hands fall away from you, and he leans back in his stool letting you go.

You have tears in your eyes too. Now that he can see your face again. So he gives you a grin, shaking his head. “Like you said, it’s okay.” And he stands, offering you the stool, passing you by to go to the kettle. To finish making your tea.

Leo tells you all his guesses as to what is happening to everyone in the Hidden City. Laughs are shared, and the conversation flows pretty smoothly from then on. April, Dad, and the boys get back not too much later and they regal all of their adventures to you. Every time Leo's guesses are confirmed you can't help but look over at him. A big smile on your face. Tears no more.

That's how you should be, Leo thinks. You should get to be happy in this life. In this timeline. And for the first time ever since he was able to defeat the Kraang. Leo feels hopeful that you will be.

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ghostfacesvalentine · 5 months

Text

Obsessed - James Patrick March x Fem!Reader

Pairing: James Patrick March x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Nsfw, fem rec. oral, slight overstimulation, not much else.

Type: Headcanon

Request: Can I get uhhh... first time with James Patrick March from AHS? //^^// but only if you want to! If you don’t then just ignore this! I live your writing anyway! 💞✨

Word Count: N/A

Prompt: First time with James Patrick March!

Notes: This only took me four years, but I got to it didn’t I :))) Okay so I wasn’t specified whether it’d be hc or a one shot so I just went ahead and went with hc! If you’d like a one shot feel free to send it in!

♡ James becomes completely and utterly devoted to you the moment he sees you.

♡ When he finds out that you’re as innocent as a hummingbird, it only furthers his obsession with you.

♡ He’s always smothering you

♡ James always makes sure you’re not hungry or cold or missing anything really. Almost to the point that it’s kind of annoying, a little bit.

♡ Anytime he sees you, he greets you with lots and lots of kisses, kissing your hands repeatedly and up your arms shamelessly.

♡ He will not hesitate to treat you like a goddess, mark my words.

♡ His attention is 110% on you, literally has tunnel vision when it comes to you.

♡ If you ask him to take your virginity, then you better brace yourself because he sure as hell didn’t.

♡ The question would truly shock him.

♡ “Why Y/N. It’d be my soundest of pleasures.”

♡ Of course he would take the whole day to make this as special as he possibly could for you.

♡ He’d occupy the best room in the Cortez for the time, as always but this time with no interruptions.

♡ James would make sure it was flawlessly elegant, the most beautiful of drapery and matching bed duvet.

♡ Room service would be ordered in for whatever your liking. He’d even order in some fresh strawberries and champagne for the special night.

♡ Honestly at first, he’d let you make the initial move.

♡ Though he’s super eager, he knew it was a big deal and he wants to make sure this is what you’re ready for.

♡ You kiss him first, which as he describes it, is “an electrifying experience”

♡ He remains soft with you though, kissing you back gently. He was holding back for sure, it was by no means easy though.

♡ But when you begin to kiss him more hungrily, he kind of loses it a little.

♡ His kisses become a bit more desperate, but still with love, to the point where you do have to pull away for air.

♡ He’s so intoxicated by the way that you smell, your taste, your touch. He’s ready to devour you right where you are.

♡ He takes his time in placing you on the bed, delicately taking off your clothes, placing soft and gentle kisses on the parts your skin became exposed.

♡ Taking note of what you like and what you don’t like. It exhilarates his behavior to watch you tremble.

♡ He gives you your first hand job, making sure your wetness soaks his hands, he doesn’t even know if he’s scissoring his fingers in your cunt for himself or for you.

♡ Watching your head fall back in pleasure is everything to him, he even tilts your chin forward to look at him as tears well in your eyes.

♡ James twists and turns his fingers in you, a sinful smile never leaving his lips, as the time slipped away, he became hungrier for you.

♡ Your pleasure brought a desperation James hadn’t seen in decades.

♡ He’s obsessed with your pleasure, it brings a euphoria to him in a similar way that killing does.

♡ Once he’s rubbed all your slick against your folds, he starts to lap at your core. His arms hook under your legs to bring you closer to him.

♡ I’m obsessed with the idea of him kneeling in the most uncomfortable position but so desperate to eat you out that he’s just there in place in bliss as your arousal drenches his face.

♡ He can be there for hours. He doesn’t really talk you through an orgasm, but when you feel yourself clenching up, he continues his pace, with a hand on your breast, squeezing it gently as you rock your hips against his face.

♡ You apologize because you have no idea what happened but he’s not listening like at all.

♡ He does this over and over until you are practically weeping.

♡ When he first enters you, he has you on your back, looking right at him already succumbed into pleasure.

♡ You’re so lost in your orgasms that it didn’t sting when he entered you, in fact he wished he could record this moment for his own pleasure.

♡ Your eyelids half closed in bliss, he didn’t take long to pick up the pace, still quietly assuring himself that you weren’t in any pain.

♡ It didn’t take long for you to cum again, allow me to speculate that seeing your coat of white on his dick sends him over the edge.

♡ He keeps fucking the orgasm out of you. All you could do is lay back and brace yourself. You can grab and pull and scratch at him all you want, he’s pounding you into the mattress.

♡ Id say James has a pretty decent tolerance so it’s going to be a long night of orgasms after orgasms.

♡ Mr. “Are you aware that the average woman is capable of 8 orgasms in a single session?”

♡ You’re not even capable of responding, barely able to comprehend what the whole sentence was and that only drives him to keep going.

♡ The picture of you helpless, covered in juices of arousal, twitching in pleasure and eyes rolling back in bliss. He’s obsessed. And he caused all of this.

♡ This is your first time but he’s treating you like a toy, he’s so desperate to see you like this. Normally he’d try all kinds of positions but since it is your first time, he wants to see how much you’re capable of.

♡ He’s kind of infatuated with the view and of course it boosts his ego in a demented sense. It’s not until you start crying out that you can’t take it anymore.

♡ He’s cautious at first, getting to know your limits, but give it some time he’ll encourage you to keep taking it because he knows you’re capable.

#james patrick march x reader #james patrick march #James Patrick March imagine #James Patrick March one shot #James Patrick March smut #ghostfacesvalentine answers #ahs imagine #ahs one shot #ahs hotel

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somewhere-at-the-burrow · 19 days

Note

hii!!! i hope your move into your college dorms went well ☺️

im so happy i found your blog, its amazing! i am an aspiring shifter, i’m shifting to a hogwarts-related DR with the main desire to fall in love with my s/o (i love love haha) but also to just be at hogwarts, have fun, have adventures, three work at the ministry, etc - so i would like to permashift!

i adore your aesthetic and everythingg, im learning so much and just reading your posts make me super happy! you inspired me to create a blog too. hopefully i’ll have experiences that i can share soon

and we’re almost the same myers-briggs type - i am an infj 🩵

i have a few questions, i hope they’re not too much ~

do you have a waiting room, and if not, if you were to have one, what do you think it would look like

2. did you script others’ names for random students at Hogwarts (like did you script that italian guy coming to Hogwarts, or did you just script that your DR plays out with interesting scenarios and drama scenarios and that is how it played out?) i feel like i remember you said you didn’t script stuff like that, i’m still reading through all of your posts so i’m so sorry if you already mentioned this!

3. did you age up to 15 years old for fourth year? did you keep the same 7 year format for hogwarts?

4. do you have another dr that follows the main harry potter x voldemort plot?

5. is there a muggle washing machine equivalent in the wizarding world? is there a laundry room where you bring all your dirty clothes in to be washed? who washes them, the house elves, or is there a way for students to do it on their own and they pick it up when it’s clean and dry? does that mean your clothes have to be labeled with your name? i feel like i remember in the sorcerer’s stone that they got crabbe and goyle’s uniforms with their names on it from the laundry or something!

6. do students wear muggle clothing after school or on the weekends? the prisoner of azkaban was such an aesthetic because of the jeans and 90’s style clothing everyone wore after school but i would think everyone mostly wore their uniforms, even after classes are done for the day, like in the books, but i’m not sure!

7. can you only go to hogsmeade on the weekends? like if you need a quill or book for school and it’s not a hogsmeade weekend yet, would you have to get an order form and send it by owl to a shop and send over the galleons by mail and your order is delivered to you by magical mail?

8. so sorry if this is a little tmi, no need to answer if it’s uncomfortable! but as a girl, i’ve always wondered how do girls deal with their cycle while at hogwarts? is there a magical cloth pad that absorbs everything without needing to change it?

9. did you script in that there would be magazines like Seeker Weekly that you and Ginny read? i’m so excited to be a Quibbler magazine subscriber

10. did you have to study the layout and appearance of hogwarts, common rooms, the burrow, hogsmeade, diagon alley, knockturn alley, the hogwarts express, etc. before you shifted? a big part of my problem is that i feel like i need to script in everythinggg detail by detail because i suppose i don’t believe that everything will just play out (im a perfectionist and my anxiety is not making it easy 😭)

11. does news from the muggle world get into the wizarding world, or does it feel like the two worlds are truly separate/does it feel like you’re in a lovely bubble in the wizarding world?

i’m so sorry for all the questions!!

thank you!!! 🥹 🩵🩵🩵

you're so sweet! also, thank you so much angel!! i'm so glad my blog can be of help to you... and your blog is looking awesome already .. i'll def be sticking around to see how it goes <3

𝖆𝖓𝖘𝖜𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 !

{ about my Hogwarts reality }

do you have a waiting room, and if not, if you were to have one, what do you think it would look like

waaaay back in the beginning of my shifting journey, I envisioned having a waiting room that was similar to Newt Scamander's case! I created many layout sketches for it and thought about it all the time, but I've never actually shifted there yet. I also thought about having this magic suitcase include a ladder that leads to a wizarding world reality, but I didn't have one at the time so it just didn't work out. I think the idea is very fun, though! just imagine having the coziest little workshop with bowtruckles and vivarium environments to visit... it sounds so relaxing. in my version, I also envisioned a magical greenhouse with colorful tiles, a kitchen to bake whatever I want, and pathways that lead all over the workshop / vivariums!

I personally didn't script anything about how school would work in terms of people there / drama. that is just how it turned out, I guess! I think if you really wanted to, you could script the possibility for drama or different scenarios, but I wanted to see how Hogwarts social circles would play out if I didn't really script anything! and BOY IS IT CRAZY. sometimes I get so caught up in the daily events in my personal schedule, I forget that there is drama happening 24/7 with people that don't exist ANYWHERE in canon. something that was also interesting is the fact that most of my best friends do not exist in canon. I was fully expecting to only be friends with the "main characters", but shifting is real life and you can really have no idea how things like that will play out!

3. did you age up to 15 years old for fourth year? did you keep the same 7 year format for hogwarts?

the 7 year format is the same at my Hogwarts, except we start our first year when we are 15 years old! so, I guess you could say it is kind of like a university / Hogwarts mix? I knew that I wanted to shift into the chamber of secrets timeline, and because I am in the same year as George and Fred, I did the math for how I could interpret my current age into entering my fourth year at Hogwarts. so everyone is aged up!

4. do you have another dr that follows the main harry potter x voldemort plot?

I thought about it once, but when I actually started shifting to my weasley reality, I realized that I didn't want to go through the stress of crazy (and most times traumatic) plot lines. although the harry potter canon events can be pretty interesting sometimes, actually being there and starting my class schedule gave me a bit of an existential crisis and I don't want to deal with that AND umbridge (for example!)

this is such a cool question, and I was definitely very curious about this as well before I shifted! at my Hogwarts, there are multiple different ways you can get your laundry done (depending on how fast you need it cleaned etc). the most common option is through the dorm laundry basket, which is usually in the bathroom and is magically collected every evening. there is a laundry room near the Kitchens, and there are staff (wizards and house elves) that use cleaning spells to wash through the laundry baskets they collect! they then fold the clothes and the hamper re-appears in our dorms usually by the next evening. there is also a second option for students who may only have one uniform to cycle through, and that is usually through walking down to the laundry room (typically during the free hours before dinner) and washing it yourself. because the laundry staff have so many clothes to get through, this is the fastest because laundry and drying spells do not take hardly any time in the wizarding world and sometimes working at your own pace is best. IT IS AMAZING!! and yes! you can also pick up your clothes from the wash room if you so choose, but it is so much easier to just use the dorm laundry basket IT MAKES ME SO LAZY FR

Hogwarts uniforms are only necessary during official school hours, so from 8/9am -- 4:30pm. also, fridays depend on the student's schedule, because sometimes professors will schedule classes on friday but they are usually a study day! the general rule is to put on your uniform if you are visiting a study hall (library, great hall resource hour, selkie commons, etc), and you can take off your uniform and change into regular clothes after school is done or on the weekends. it is pretty common to see an array of students at dinner both wearing their uniforms AND wearing everyday clothes. on the weekends, you will rarely ever see a uniform unless there is a school sanctioned trip or a class that may be meeting for an exam or something! ALSO YES THE 90s STYLE CLOTHING IS AMAZING

something I like about my Hogwarts reality is how Hogsmeade can be visited every day if you would like to go! sometimes it can be very impractical, though, because school/clubs can get out pretty late and it is another 20-30 minute walk to the village, but many older students tend to socialize or get something to eat later in the evening. it all depends! usually that type of stuff is reserved for the weekends, though. school is very busy, but usually everyone plans their work so they can spend one day during the weekend at Hogsmeade!

no worries! there are so so many products that are advertised in the wizarding world, but most people just stick to muggle methods because plain and simple.. the cycle sucks and we do what we've gotta do! the dorm supply closet is always supplied with necessary things, and there are also potions that can be given to you in the Hospital Wing for cramps and stomach aches.

9. did you script in that there would be magazines like Seeker Weekly that you and Ginny read? i’m so excited to be a Quibbler magazine subscriber

I've always wanted to get my hands on a Seeker Weekly magazine, especially when I saw them for the first time in goblet of fire. so, I guess it was just my desires to read crazy wizarding magazines that solidified them in my weasley reality!! there are truly so many different forms of media to consume--- from books to radio channels to magazines. i'd definitely keep that in mind to explore when you shift!

I definitely have an advantage because I was that kid in high school who was making maps of Hogwarts and stuff like that! but I definitely didn't plan out the entire school and know my whole way around before I shifted. when I try and shift (especially to a new place), I sometimes create a small pinterest board and then I focus on the place I am going to wake up. I have found that that helps me not get so overwhelmed about everything! I didn't know my way around the burrow AT ALL before shifting this summer, but I watched a small video on it and tried to shift imagining what my bedroom would look like. the rest just came with memory when I shifted! you absolutely do not need to script every single detail with your DR.. I personally think that takes out the wonder of shifting and the fact that it is real life to be explored :)

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phoenixyfriend · 5 months

Text

Shadow and Mirror

Read on AO3, written for this prompt

Cody has a new crush.

Well, a “crush” implies something much more childish than the point he’s reached in his life.

Cody has… felt a connection and really hit it off with someone he finds reasonably attractive.

His brothers are being less than supportive.

“He is my Jedi and one of my best friends,�� Rex says, “but I just… for both your sakes, life will be so much easier if you don’t go for it.”

Cody is unfazed. “You do remember he was my Jedi Commander before he got promoted and took you with him, right? I know what he’s like, and I’m into it.”

Rex makes a face. “Uh, all due respect, Cody—”

Oh, this bitch.

“—but he’s changed in some pretty big ways since he split from Kenobi.”

“So’ve I.”

This earns him an eyeroll. “Yes, yes, you’ve discovered your romantic charisma and started charming the pants off of any sentient you encounter on leave. You do realize that’s part of the problem?”

“That I have game?”

“Skywalker doesn’t do casual,” Rex insists. “Open, maybe, if you talk about it, but he doesn’t do casual.”

After a moment of consideration, Cody shrugs. “I can work with that.”

“Can you?” Rex challenges. “Can you really deal with the full force of Anakin’s attention? With him losing his entire mind if you get hurt, and calling you up at three in the morning to chat, and promising you the galaxy in a bunch of flowery words that should be hyperbole, but really, really worryingly sounds literal and sincere?”

“…did you try dating him?”

“No, but I was there basically every time he hung with Amidala, and that shit continued past the point where he gave up on romantic seduction and settled into friendship,” Rex says, more of a grumpy complaint than anything, “and she’s just as weird as he is when it comes to all that, so it’s no skin off her back to match his energy, but you are not on their level.”

“Rude.”

“I’m just saying,” Rex grits out from between clenched teeth, “that you like to have fun, and Anakin likes to dedicate every morsel of crazy knocking around his brain to whichever poor soul ended up in his affections.”

“I feel like insulting your CO that much is grounds for a court martial.”

“Echo told him, to his face, that he occasionally seemed crazy as a bag of tooka kits and about as hinged as a sliding door. General Skywalker took a second to process, and then laughed. He doesn’t care, not if it’s from a friend.”

Cody hums. “Which you are.”

“Yes.”

“Enough to warn me away before I break his heart?” Cody asks. Rex looks away, and Cody can only chuckle. “You’re not that subtle, Rex.”

“I’m trying to make sure you do what’s best for both of you,” Rex insists, glancing at Cody for only a moment before breaking eye contact again, “so Anakin doesn’t get disappointed, and so you’re not walking in blind when it comes to him being… the most.”

Cody snorts. “I can handle Skywalker, Rex. I may not be a Jedi or a Senator, but I can handle one brat with a smart mouth, a bad attitude, and a couple of super-powers.”

Rex grimaces. “I mean… it’s not really… that simple. The Force stuff, I mean.”

There’s something a little odd to Rex’s voice with that one, more than just the weird pauses. Cody doesn’t dismiss it quite as easily as he might have. Instead, he carefully asks, “the whole ‘Chosen’ thing some of the Shinies were gossiping about? Kenobi said it was an old superstition more than anything, a metaphor taken too literally, and that even the Jedi argue about it.”

“When?”

Cody’s expression must speak for him, because Rex clarifies without prompting.

“When did Kenobi say that?”

Cody looks past him at the wall, frowning as he thinks. Rex waits, and doesn’t take it too personally; they know each other too well for that. Finally, Cody shrugs. “A couple months in. Skywalker was still a Jedi Commander with the 212th.”

“So, before Mortis.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. “This has to do with that shitshow?”

Rex looks uncomfortable. “You… aren’t 501st.”

“Yeah, and?”

“Well… Kenobi didn’t get possessed. Or channel a god. He just used an extra weird lightsaber for a bit.”

Cody gives it a few moments, and then finally says, “Rex.”

His brother continues to look uncomfortable.

“What did that place do to Skywalker and Tano?”

(Continue on AO3)

#Codakin #Codykin #Anakin Skywalker #Commander Cody #Ahsoka Tano #Clone Trooper Fives #ARC Trooper Fives #Clone Trooper Echo #ARC Trooper Echo #Captain Rex #star wars #the clone wars #eldritch au #phoenix files

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garbbitch · 6 months

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Can you write something about reader and Julien being friends forever and ignoring their mutual pining (which is obvious to everyone around them) until one day one of them finally breaks?

mutual pining

julien x reader (roomate)

fluff!

i hope yall like it

i feel like she would try to be subtle, and it would work most of the time until lucy or phoebe were around cuz they would obviously know she likes you

you would be subtle too but also would be super blushy and stuff when you guys talk.

i feel like she would call you little pet names, nothing that’s too specific like baby or honey or babe or something super specific to relationships but she def calls you princess or sugar and she always does it by accident, like it even surprises her when she says it

i can also imagine her getting you coffee in the morning on her little morning walks (as mentioned on gayotic) and you want to think that means something but you convince yourself it doesn’t

i feel like you (a character i’m constructing… go with it) would bake her stuff, cookies and brownies or something

i feel like julien wouldn’t know if your queer or not which is why she doesn’t make moves, you’re kinda femme and she hates to make assumptions but she also doesn’t wanna make you uncomfortable. i feel like the convo about you being queer would happen in a super lowkey setting and it wouldn’t be a big deal

you guys would be at a party or something like that and some random guy would hit on you, (🤮) and you would be visibly annoyed or disgusted by him (cuz he’s a man, honestly so real) and you would be looking around for anyone to ‘rescue’ from him, he wasn’t doing anything other than talking to you, but julien was watching him this whole time anyway. jealously. so your eyes would pan over the room, you would see jo and naomi and kelli all goofing off in a corner and wouldn’t be able to get any of their attention, then you’d look over to katie and lucy who were also not looking your direction and wouldn’t get see that you clearly needed someone to get him to leave you alone cuz no matter what you said he wouldn’t let up. then you’d look over at phoebe and bo who were also not paying attention to where you were and then you’d see julien who seemed to be burning holes into the back of the guy’s head. she would come over as soon as you looked at her. “hey, you ok?” she would say as she walked over to you, casually placing her hand on your waist. you would respond saying you’re ok or something and then she would try to make a joke “not your type?” i feel like she would try to make you more comfy as he walked away or something by cracking a joke. and that’s when you’d say something like “definitely not, i pretty much only like girls” and she wouldn’t react but like i feel like she would ask what your type is, and you would probably say it just depends.

also, going back to when lucy and pheobe make it obvious, i feel like it would go over your head or you wouldn’t want to think too much of what they’re saying. cuz like if they’re wrong somehow you don’t wanna mess things up with her

they’d say stupid shit like

“you look really nice in that dress, what do you think julien?” and obviously she would immediately blush and try to say something that wasn’t stupid

if the whole group were at a party i feel like lucy would dance with you to make her jealous

i feel like julien would compliment you a lot, not in a weird way, but in a cute way

it would obviously make you blush like crazy and she again wouldn’t think anything of it

pheobe would get so frustrated watching yall flirt with each other that she joked she couldn’t stand to be around the 2 of you

but omg the moment one of yall “break” it

so cute

i feel like it would be another night that you had tried to go to bed early but you were feeling restless so you got up to sit with julien while she strummed her guitar

“hey sleepyhead.” she said as she strummed the guitar softly. you would probably huff dramatically. “i am not a sleepyhead.” you would protest for the umpteenth time and she would chuckle like she always did, how could she not. “what’re you doin up so late?” she asked you as she sat the guitar down and tapped she seat next to her. “couldn’t sleep” you said back to her avoiding her eyes. “playing anything new?” you asked her a second later. “nah, just strumming. why couldn’t you sleep?” she asked as she turned to face you. “i dunno, busy mind i guess” you said, sorta lying. not that your mind wasn’t busy, you were thinking about her… again… big surprise! you were running over the little moments that you didn’t know if they meant something or not. “wanna talk about it?” she asked wanting to help if she can. “i dunno i’m overthinking stuff… it’s whatever” you say back to her still avoiding her eyes. she reached over to touch your hand as you fidgeted with your fingers. “can i ask about what?” she asked gently as she rubbed your hand softly, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. you would sit there and try to think of the correct thing to say about it, you don’t want to make things awkward or uncomfortable. “i dunno if i should say.” you say quietly as you stare at her hand on yours. “you don’t have to, but you also don’t have to worry about talking to me.” she would reassure you as she stroked your hand softly. you took a deep breath feeling a little anxious about putting it to words. "i was thinkin about you." you said softly, avoiding her eyes and trying to not get more embarassed by what you said. realization dawned on her as soon as she heard it. when she didn't say anything right away you panicked and immidiately back pedalled. "'m sorry- i shouldn't have said that. i get it if you d-" you started to ramble and she cut you off with a kiss. you immidiately shut up and didn't stop the kiss, you gently touched her face. she gently broke the kiss a moment later. she stares into your eyes as if she's looking for uncertainty. "i- wow- we should've done that sooner." you said with a soft giggle. she chuckled too. "i should've asked you out." she said softly. you blushed a little and she gently stroked your cheeks with her thumbs.

you guys have a long talk about what you guys want out of a possible relationship.

a couple days later you guys go on a cute date

she brings you to a party at lucy's house and neither of you hear the end of it from lucy and phoebe.

#julien baker fluff #julien baker #im trying posting more often #get ready for a few more posts today.#julien baker x reader

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ithinkabouttzu · 9 months

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Hello, I love your bofb headcannons 😭 i wonder if i can have a headcannon for the guys being protective/jealous over the gn!reader please? And if it is okay then can you add Wayne Sisk to this too? He's one of my favorite characters so yeah :) have a good day!

Easy co. being protective over their s/o

Genre: Romance; angst

warnings: Heavy jealous themes; a tiny bit of suggestion

description: Easy co. getting overprotective over you (his s/o) at a bar or any group setting. (reader is gn)

a/n: I’m sorry if this isn’t exactly what you asked for! I already had made a jealous one a couple months ago so I tried to do one that’s protective instead of jealous, anyway I hope you enjoy!

Taglist: @sweetxvanixlla @ronsparky @samwinchesterslostshoe @executethyself35 @linhkhanhcps @1waveshortofashipwreck @grumpy-liebgott @barbeygirl (if you want to be added to the taglist, let me know!)

Dick Winters: - He only gets overprotective when someone has said something rude to you or made you feel uncomfortable in any way

- he makes sure to stay super close to you and will keep his eyes on you at all times

- doesn’t stay more then 5 feet away from you

- sometimes when he’s doing something you might even be a distraction for him

- just because he just wants you to be safe and wants to protect you no matter what.

- Even when he gets protective over you, he tries not making a big deal out of it. He doesn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable and he doesn’t want to seem controlling so he tries his best letting it go.

Lewis Nixon: - When he starts getting like that he makes sure to let everyone know by his actions

- rolling his eyes at anyone that gets too close to you or something like that. he’s so passive aggressive to everyone else

- he especially gets protective when you’re wearing something that shows your skin, just because if any creeps make a move on you he can tell them off.

- HAS to keep his hand or arm on you or around you the whole time that you guys are out together.

- when you guys get home though he makes sure to apologize if he was being overprotective and just reminding you that he wants to be there for you.

Carwood Lipton: - He rarely gets overprotective over you, just because he respects you and doesn’t want to come off as controlling to you so he backs off for the most part

- but when he does get overprotective over it’s because he’s just really worried about you

- he knows you can handle your own but he still gets so worried that something will happen to you because people suck

- He asks if you’re okay over and over again almost to the point where it’s annoying

- He’ll just stare at you, just watching your every move (not in a creepy way) to make sure that no one is bothering you.

- Kisses you afterwards and hugs you tightly, making sure you know how much he cares about you.

Joe Toye: - Stares down any guy that gets close to you (and if looks could kill they would be GONE)

- He walks up to you and keeps his hand on the small of your back for the rest of the night. He won’t risk some creep coming up to you, then he’ll have to knock them out

- Keeps his eyes on the lookout for any guys even looking your way

- He has to stop himself from fighting a guy when he came up to you and asked if you wanted to dance right in front of him (the nerve)

- He’s very touchy the whole time after that, showing everyone one way or another that your his and only his.

- makes you guys leave earlier because he was just getting pissed off by all the douchebags looking at you

Joe Liebgott: - He doesn’t try to be overprotective but it just comes off that way.

- He doesn’t get too protective but when he does…

- Oh, someone bumped into you while walking? Well now that person is bumped up against the wall being yelled at.

- He’d try his absolute best to defend his behavior, telling you that the guy should’ve watched where he was walking

- It’s not in a toxic way he just really wants to make sure that you’re okay

- He makes sure to apologize to you afterwards though and let you know that he was in the wrong.

Bill Guarnere: - He gets really overprotective when you’re wearing something a bit short or showy.

- He’s not going to make you cover up or be mad at you, nothing toxic like that

- BUT he will be sure to kick some ass if any guys get too close to you or make you uncomfortable or upset

- “What the fuck you lookin’ at? Gotta starin problem?”

- Not gonna lie he can be a little problematic when it comes to you LOL

- Let’s just say if he does get into a fight over you (which he probs will) he will make SURE to make it up to you afterwards no matter what.

- “sorry ‘bout earlier, I just hate when people are lookin’ at you like that”

Eugene Roe: - Rarely gets overprotective, only when guys are physically are making you uncomfortable

- He’ll make sure to tell them off it they are making you feel uncomfy

- “Leave em’ alone or we’re gonna have a problem”

- If they keep on and don’t respect your space, he’ll make SURE to get them kicked out of the joint immediately

- “No one messes with them, no matter what”

- The rest of the night he just stays extra close to you so that no one will hurt you

George Luz: - He gets overprotective when he’s jealous

- Like if another guy is trying to flirt with you, he’s going to fuck with him, respectfully.

- If a guy is flirting with you, he will be so passive aggressive to them, with a hand wrapped around your waist the entire time

- He doesn’t feel the need to cause a scene, but if someone keeps trying to make you uncomfortable he will be SURE throw hands

- “Don’t fuck with them, got it?”

- Honestly the rest of the night he keeps trying to justify beating that guy because “he was looking at you the wrong way”

Bull Randleman: - rarely gets overprotective but he does worry about you when there’s a bunch of guys in a crowd and they start getting rowdy

- If they make you upset in any way he will make his presence KNOWN for sure

- like just one look from him will send all of them running, cause I mean, who wants to get in a fight with him?

- Makes sure to stay close to you and asks if you if you’re alright afterwards

- He’s so sweet and gentle to you though, if you feel like you need to leave or take a second away he’ll go with you and make sure you’re alright

- But when he gets back he’s definitely throwing fists with whoever is making you feel that way

Floyd Talbert: - “Gotta starin’ problem?” Ugh why is it so hot when he gets overprotective?!?!

- He’d ask you if you knew the guy that kept giving you weird looks at the bar. When you said no he was honestly contemplating to go up to the guy

- Doesn’t leave your side not even for a second.

- If someone tries to get up close to you or make a move on you he’s going to make it known that he’s your man, if that means he’s gotta make out with you in front of everyone, or keep his hands on your ass the whole time he will

- When you guys leave he makes sure to ask you though, “You’re all mine, right?”

- Gives you spicy make-up time for being so possessive earlier

Skip Muck: - Only gets overprotective when someone says something hurtful to you or makes you sad

- Like he just wants to be able to protect you and be there for you, it’s so saddening when he can’t :(

- He’ll make sure to keep you by his side the whole time you guys are out

- And if someone looks at you wrong or says something bad to you he’s definitely confronting them about it.

- He will definitely fight anyone in the room when it comes to you, so if they had a problem with you they can deal with him first

- If he acts too aggressive to anyone he will apologize to you later, he just hates seeing you be anything but happy.

Don Malarkey: - Get can get pretty overprotective, but it’s only because he loves you, not out of anything toxic

- Will definitely throw hands if someone says anything sideways at you

- I feel like he would be overprotective to you only when he’s angry or in a bad mood especially

- Some girls are being mean to you? He’s asking them if their boyfriends can fight bc NO ONE messes with his bae

- Keeps his eyes on you AT ALL TIMES

- Really cares about you and just never wants to see you uncomfortable ever. He knows you can take care yourself too, but he just wants to be there for you just in case

Shifty Powers: - Wants to make sure that you stay close to him, he really doesn’t want to let you out of his sight

- Doesn’t want to make you feel like you’re being controlled or anything so he tries not to overbear too much but he just gets worried about you in big crowds

- If any guy, friendly or not comes up to you, he’s joining you two immediately to see wha the guy wants

- “Is there something you need? I’ll be glad to help you if so.” He’s so nice about it but you know that he’s just doing that to get under the other person’s skin

- “You’re mine right? No one else’s?”

- He apologizes afterwards even though he really didn’t do anything bad. He just wants to be close to you in those moments and doesn’t want anything bad happening to you.

Babe Heffron: - When he gets overprotective around you, just know he’s looking for a fight tbh

- Like someone looks at you the wrong way? slap. Someone doesn’t say excuse me when they’re walking through the crowd? Slap.

- He doesn’t care who it is, his hands are E for everyone. (true ride or die)

- Keeps his hand on your ass the whole time

- Also has to keep a serious face on the entire time that he’s there with you

- You’ll probably have to drag him away from a fight by the end of the night

Frank Perconte: - He gets ticked off super easily by everyone when he gets protective over you

- Like literally everyone annoys him. You’re probably the only person who can calm him down and tell him to chill out without him getting mad

- If a guy gets close to you he’ll start shit talking about them (BAD)

- “Gotta fuckin’ problem?” He says, joining in the conversation between you and the guy that was talking to you.

- Has to excuse himself earlier in the night because everyone is pissing him off

- “i’m sorry about earlier, doll. You know I love you”

Ronald Speirs: - He’s protective almost all of the time.

- Like he really doesn’t play about you AT ALL. He’s kinda like, “touch them and you die” kinda bf

- “Let’s stay close to each other tonight, alright?”

- He doesn’t fight anyone, or try to scare anyone off, but by the look on his face and the way he’s holding onto you, everyone is too scared to make a pass towards you.

- “Ron, why was everyone avoiding us tonight? It’s like they were scared of us or something” (they in fact, were very scared)

- He tries not to act like that frequently but whenever he goes out with you, he knows how rowdy the boys can get and wants to keep you safe.

Johnny Martin: - Everyone is low-key scared of him too, so when he brings around his bae, everyone knows not to mess with you

- But he still can get really overprotective in general sometimes

- like he just has a horrible fear that you will get hurt one day and he won’t be able to save you

- “You alright, honey? If someone gives you any problems you let me know, okay?”

- Immediate death stare if someone says anything remotely rude to you (which is effective IMMEDIATELY)

- It’s honestly kinda hot when he gets so possessive over you, like he just seems so much more sexier

Skinny Sisk: - Tries not to get too overprotective verbally but it definitely shows in his actions

- He’s keeping one hand on you at all times, no exceptions.

- When he gets like this, it’s almost like he’s waiting for someone to come up to you and say something that makes you uncomfortable,

- He’s also very prepared to beat someone up for you.

- And anyone could tell he looked mad as hell, his jaw almost locking by how hard he was clenching it when a guy looks your way

- He also gets very touchy, kissing you any chance you give him, feeling all around you, he will make SURE that everyone knows you’re his

Chuck Grant: - When he gets overprotective over you, let’s just be glad looks can’t kill, if they did then a lot of men in the room would be dead for looking at you

- The way he keeps his eyes on you all night long is kind of attractive tbh

- he’ll make you feel like you’re the only person in the room, making only your presence known

- Keeps his jaw clenched up if a guys asks you for a dance, he’s quick to steal you away from the party then

- When he finally gets to have you all to himself, he can’t help but push you up against the wall and plant kisses all over your neck and collarbone.

- “I’m sorry I took you away from the crowd, doll, but i’ve gotta have you to myself tonight”

David Webster: - Asks you over and over again if you’re comfortable when a guy looks at you, he gets so pissed on the inside but tries to keep it to himself bc he doesn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.

- Tries to stay close to you the whole entire night

- Somehow if a guy does come up to you, he’s joining the conversation immediately. Being the most obnoxious he could possibly get

- “You mind if me and mine dance for a second? sorry to leave you by yourself”

- Once he gets you away from the guy he apologizes, not because he thinks he did anything wrong but because it could’ve came off rude to you

- “I’m sorry if you were still talking to that guy back there, but I just really wanted to dance with you” (which is partly true but he also just wants you to himself)

Buck Compton: - He only really gets like this when he’s got a lot of energy pent up, or he’s horny

- “Woah, you look nice tonight, I hope I dont have to fight any guys for looking at you” (he’s foreshadowing btw)

- His grip on you is TIGHTT, this man is really not willing to let you go, under NO circumstances fr

- If anyone is trying to flirt with you he’ll give them the “Do we have a problem?” Look

- Makes you two leave early because he’s just angry and annoyed at everyone

- Definitely taking some of that anger out on you when you guys get home (if you know what I mean 😉) but he loves you and apologizes afterwards if he was too harsh

Thank you for your request, im sorry if it’s not so good, I hope you enjoyed!!! If you liked this, make sure to like or reblog :)

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