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#no matter what I do every time they talk to me it just feels like they’re talking down to me
jarofstyles · 3 days
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Appetency
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Okay so we've got a bit of a long one. Kinda enemies to lovers if you blink, fuckboyrry turned softrry, dedication galore, hesitant Y/N and confident H, you're gonna love it. This is the first half- the other half is already up on Patreon and will be here later on 💕
Check out our Patreon for early access to the second half and 200+ exclusive writings
Warnings- slight angst, mentions of anxiety, alcohol, cocky h turned into a loverboy... nothing too crazy in this part.
WC- 8.5k
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“Why are you every-fucking-where.” Y/N stopped short, glaring at the man across from her. The entire party, she had been trying to avoid him- but he wasn’t letting that be at all possible.
Harry grinned widely at that, the most obnoxious and infuriatingly pretty smile with those stupid dimples. Leaning against the wall as he studied her for a good moment, there was no hiding the not so casual enjoyment he got out of flustering her. 
Finally, he broke the silence, standing up from his casually cool stance on the wall. She knew he was going to say something that annoyed her and it was proven as he opened his mouth. "C’mon, don’t be like that. Perhaps you just can't keep me off your mind, baby girl. Can’t stop thinking about me, seeing me everywhere…"
“Ew. Do not call me that.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust for the nickname, walking past him. He followed, of course, because he always did. “Just because we have a few similar friends doesn’t mean you need to be at every social event. I’d love a break from your smug face.”
"You can't possibly be getting tired of this handsome face already…" He protested as he followed behind, his words purposely trying to rile her up. Getting a rise out of her seemed to make his whole day, and usually she would laugh it off but this time… things were different. Finding a spot in the kitchen, he watched as she puttered around trying not to look at him. 
His eyes danced with amusement as he added in some more. "Or are you just mad that I always seem to steal the show, love? Not my fault that I'm effortlessly charming and captivating, darling."
“Humble, too.” She snorted, grabbing a drink from the cooler. Buzzballs were not the thing she’d want to choose when she was thinking about the next morning, but they were exactly what she needed when it came to trying to mentally escape right now. “You’re insufferable. Really.” His eyes were on her as she used her nail to pop open the cap. 
“So are you going to leave me alone, or follow me around all night?”
Harry chuckled in amusement at her sarcasm, enjoying the way she rolled your eyes at him. "Leave you alone when you look this lovely? Not a chance in hell, darling." He hummed, tapping his own bottle against the counter. He paid no mind to the new people who entered the space, eyes glued on the girl he was talking to. "But as much as I'd love to keep annoying you, I have a much better way we could spend time. Don't you remember, love?" He purred. “I certainly do. It’s hard to forget the way it feels when you moan-” The interruption was instant, her hand gripping onto him. 
“Harry…” she hissed, tugging his arm further down the dark hallway and into a bedroom. Who’s? She didn’t know. All she knew was that she had seen where this was going, and she didn’t want him to say it too loudly. Everyone was so god damn nosy and respectfully, she didn’t want to deal with any of that. Not after all she had said.
“Listen.” Putting her hands on her hips, she tilted her head up at him as he stood a little too close. “We hooked up, it was a mistake. You know it.” Though it didn’t seem like he thought so considering how he trailed her ever since. “We… we were a little drunk and I was lonely and you were there.” 
Y/N knew she was slightly lying, but she was trying to fool herself. If she said it enough times, maybe she’d believe it. They’d always had chemistry. It was intensity that burned between them, her disdain and his addiction to getting a rise out of her. It was only a matter of time that they’d give into some sort of blow out- but she hadn’t expected it to be as good as it was. It couldn’t happen again. 
Harry had that knowing smirk on his face as she tried to deny it all, knowing exactly where this was headed. The thrill of chasing her, of getting under her skin was intoxicating, addicting. He loved making her growl and huff and glare at him, because it meant getting her undivided attention.
"Was it really a mistake?" He asked as he leaned against the door, finally giving her some breathing room.  "Or have you just been avoiding me because you couldn't stop thinking about it?"
The truth was that he had been thinking about that night ever since. Multiple times. Before he went to sleep, when he was in the shower.. It was hard not to. 
Her jaw clenched, placing her bottle down and crossing her arms. “Look. You’re hot, Harry. You don’t need me to tell you that. You’ve got plenty big of an ego. But I’ve been avoiding you because it can not happen again.” 
Y/N knew that Nina was into Harry and she really didn’t want to start any drama. Not that he even seemed remotely into her, but because she acted like he was someone she had dibs on. As gross as it was, she tended to start shit with anyone Harry pursued and she just wasn’t in the season for drama. There were other things to worry about other than start a feud over a man. 
He had known about Nina's crush on him, but he didn't care about her. He never had, and he never would. As fucked up as it was, what they had, in his mind, was just a harmless flirtation, nothing more. Y/N knew that, but Nina didn’t. He couldn't have been more clear he had no interest in her, but some people took delusion to heart. 
It didn’t matter how good Harry gave it to her last time, how hard her legs shook, how sore she was in the best way. Didn’t matter if his tongue was hot and through and how he’d cleaned her up with it. It couldn’t be repeated.
Harry's smirk only widened as she openly admitted he was attractive, his ego inflating even more. But when she mentioned avoiding him, his smile faltered slightly.
"Why can't it happen again?" He asked, moving closer to her, his eyes darkened. Too close, making her take a deep breath. If there was one thing he would give him, his presence was commanding. Felt. Her body was very familiar with his now, wanting to lean into him, but she fought it.
“Because.” She sighed tiredly. “I really can’t deal with any drama. I’m exhausted, and the last thing I need is that she-devil going after me because she thinks I’m ‘stealing her man.’ “
The man let out a laugh, amused by the comment. Yeah, he knew exactly who she was referring to and found it funny. He knew she could be a drama queen, and he definitely didn't care for her possessive tendencies, but he had told her that they had nothing going on between them and never would.
He stepped closer to her, his greedy hands reaching out to touch her hips, his touch firm. "You're not stealing me, love. She never had me, and she's delusional if she thinks she does." His eyes gleamed with desire as he looked at her, his touch becoming a bit more possessive in his own way. "And I want you, not her."
“Harry, you don’t actually want me.” She groaned in frustration, trying to ignore how her tummy dropped as he pulled her into him, his other hand curling around her jaw. Stupid body, stupid hormones, stupid muscle memory.  “You think you do because you like a chase. You don’t actually like me or anything, you like how I fuck.” She said bluntly, glancing up at him.
Harry's smug expression faltered as she protested. He could feel the annoyance, but he also noticed the way her body responded to his touch. There was no denying that. "Is that what you really think?" He asked, his grip on her jaw tightening slightly as he looked down at her. "That I'm just chasing you only for the thrill of the chase, for the sex?"
His eyes darkened, his other hand moving lower on her hip, pulling her flush against him. He could feel her body against his, the softness, the warmth, and he wanted it all back. There had been no way she could tell him that she hadn’t enjoyed it, considering he’d made her cum 3 times, made her gush all over his cock. She’d clung to him, held onto him, whimpered his name. But he’d taken care of her, he had gotten her some pomegranate juice and a snack, helped her tie her hair up, driven her home. When the contact had been nonexistent, he was hoping she was just making him work for it- but that wasn’t all this was to him.
“Yeah.” She furrowed her brows. “Is it not?” Harry wasn’t the relationship type, not usually. Everyone knew that. Y/N had constantly reminded herself that when they’d first met and she had a bit of a crush on him, only to see that he liked to fuck em’ and leave ‘em. It lost the appeal and she had resented him a bit for it. 
Was it fair? No. She knew that. But their dynamic had been built on that resentment. 
Harry's jaw clenched at her response, frustration and something else flickering in his face. He loosened his grip on her slightly, his gaze searching her eyes, trying to convey something she obviously wasn’t picking up on.
"And what if I told you that you were wrong?" He asked, his voice low. "What if I told you that there's more to me than just chase and sex?" He tilted his face closer to hers, his hand on her hip keeping her snug. He hadn't realized it himself just how touch deprived for her he actually was. Did she really think it was all just… a game? Had he not proven himself to her that night? Granted, he had maybe fucked up in how he communicated after but… the ball had been put in her court. 
He could tell that she was skeptical, but he was determined to make her believe him.
"I want you." He said firmly, his hand on her jaw moving to wrap around the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair. "I want everything. Your body, your mind, your heart." His hand on her hip moved lower, his touch a little needy. "And the fact that I can't have you is driving me insane. Want you to believe me."
“But why?” She sputtered. “All we do is argue. All I do is blow you off and all you do is follow me around to piss me off.” 
She had no idea he had his own fascination with her. How he’d silently watched her, observed, saw how she was with other people and wanted that chance to feel that. To have one of those smiles for himself.
Harry shook his head with a light laugh, his grip on her flexing slightly as he stared down at the girl he had been playing cat and mouse with. "Because I'll take the arguing, the blowoffs, all of it, just to be near you. I don't know when it truly started, but you've gotten under my skin, love." He pushed her back against the door, his body pressed against hers, trapping the girl. Looking down at her, his eyes were dark with desire, with honesty. It was a little unsettling.
“Harry.” She swallowed, eyes fluttering as his fingers stroked over her jaw and down over her throat, tenderness tinging the touches. “It’s not funny if this is a joke. It’s not.”
Harry's let out a tired breath, his touch gentle as he stroked her delicate skin, taking advantage of every touch. He could see that vulnerability in her eyes, and it only made him more determined to prove himself. "M’not joking. " He said firmly. "This is serious, I want you, and m’not giving up until I have you."
“Then you’re gonna have to work for it.” She exhaled sharply, pushing out of his hold and escaping back towards the party.
Y/N was almost fooled into giving in again- but she could give in without a real, true idea of what he was dedicated to. Maybe it was cruel of her to try and write him off as a bit of a slut trying his luck, but she’d never been awarded the chance to get to know him outside of their usual dynamic. 
That was why, the next day, seeing him on her front porch had her gasping in surprise. “Shit!” She yelped, keys falling to the wood below her. 
He looked good. The night of sleep seemed to refresh him, he’d showered, and he was bright eyed this morning. Determined. Why? She didn’t know. But this was not at all what she had expected when opening her front door. “ You scared the fuck out of me. What are you doing here?”
"Good morning, love." He greeted her. “Nice to see you this mornin’. You look gorgeous.” That cheeky fucking grin, as usual, tilted on his mouth. 
She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow in question. "You didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?"
Harry flashed her a grin, completely unfazed by her skepticism.  "I'm here to see you, of course." He said, as if it was obvious. “Silly thing.”
“Why?” She didn’t want to get too huffy with him but he was nearly speaking in riddles and she didn’t have the patience for that. “Are you alright?”
Of course he was amused at how frustrated she looked, finding her impatience obviously endearing. Maybe it was just her, though. Y/N was a bit of a weakness of his, he found. Pushing himself up the final step, he grabbed her keys and handed them back to her, making no effort to pull his hands away from her own. 
"I'm fine, love." He hummed casually. "I just wanted to see you." Holding her hands in his, his thumbs rubbing soft circles on the skin. Casual intimacy that slightly caught her off guard.
The girl merely looked at him in confusion.  The plan for today had been to go to the grocery shop and do stuff around the house, not entertain the man who had admitted to wanting her last night- but she knew if he was here, it meant he was determined to get his way.
Aka, spending time with her. 
“Okay.. So now you saw me.” She said lowly. “Do you want to go home now?”
The sight of her looking so flustered and on edge fueling his determination, he shook his head.  "Not yet." He said, his voice low and firm. "M’not leaving until I get some of your time."
Y/N closed her eyes, taking a deep inhale through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. Meditative breathing did wonders, it seemed. Usually. She knew Harry well enough to know that he wasn’t going to let this go. He was going to keep prodding until he understood that he probably had no actual intention of being around her long term. He was looking at her with metaphorical sex goggles on. Yeah, she was good in bed, but that was only a tiny portion of her. 
He’d learn eventually.
“Well, I have to go to the store. So…”
Harry watched you closely as she opened her eyes from the attempting to calm herself. It was a little unnerving to know she needed to calm down from such a simple interaction but then again, he had been coming on a little strong. It was his nature, but he tried to relax his stance a bit. No way was he going to let an opportunity to spend time with her be wasted. He was dedicated now, wanting to win her over.  "You're going to the store?" He leaned in closer. “Looks like I'll just have to come with you, then."
Y/N sputtered as he took her handbag and totes from her, tucking them under his arm as the other held her hand. 
“C’mon.” He said smugly, pulling her towards his car. She followed, confused at how he had just agreed to go grocery shopping with her. Willingly. It wasn’t something he liked doing and she knew that- she somehow had found out one night that he had his delivered- but he seemed eager to do this with her. 
The last thing she expected was for him to open the passenger door and help her inside, but he did. Like it was second nature, opening it up and taking her hand to aid her into sitting sound, placing her bags on her lap.
Harry's smirk widened as he scooped up her handbag and totes, his grip on your hand firm as he guided her towards his car. He snickered under her breath at her sputtered protest, enjoying her disbelief that he was actually willing to go grocery shopping with her. Like it was some sort of hardship.
Once he had settled her in, he leaned in closer, the smell of cinnamon gum filling her senses. Keeping his stance, his eyes locked on her, his gaze intense. He could see the confusion in her eyes, and it only fueled his determination to make it second nature to her, to expect this sort of thing from him. . 
"You look cute this morning." He said, his voice low and smooth. "Did you get much sleep last night?" He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle.
Her cheeks felt hot as he tenderly touched her, the softness of it all surprising her. “Um… I did.” The compliment had flustered her too. It wasn’t something she was used to from him. Their usual dynamic was tense on her end and being a pain in the ass with a stupid smirk on his. This sort of treatment was new to her. 
“Thanks. You look….” It felt unnatural to compliment him, but she meant it. Strangely enough. All of this was so new to her.  “Nice.”
Harry chuckled at the slight hesitation in her words, enjoying the way she was thrown off by his tenderness. One day she was going to accept it.  He smiled at her attempt at a compliment, narrowing his gaze at her. "Just nice?" He teased, raising an eyebrow.  He placed a light hand on her knee, his thumb stroking her skin in small circles, his touch gentle and comforting.
“Well, handsome? I dunno.” She grumbled. “Just so you know, you’re carrying all the grocery bags. If you insist on coming along you need to be useful.”
"Oh, I can be very useful, love. You jus’ need to find out what else I can off s’all." He said, his hand continuing its caressing on her knee, his touch sending a little jolt through her body "And don’t worry, I’ll carry all the bags. You just worry about picking out what you need."
Harry could see the doubt in her eyes as he reassured her about carrying the bags, and he knew he had to prove it. Not just that, but the whole thing. He hadn’t won her over quite yet, but he would. 
Removing his hand from her knee, he ignored how much he missed the touch and stood up straight, standing tall and strong next to the car. 
"You don’t believe me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Just watch, sweetheart. Gonna shock the shit out of you."
——-
Y/N was suspicious. 
Harry was… behaving. More than, actually. He was being sweet and polite, borderline charming. Standing beside her as she pushed the cart, grabbing the items at the top shelves, not rushing her at all. He was flirty, sure, but nothing insane that truly made her roll her eyes at him. His voice was soft spoken and held only a tiny bit of the arrogance it usually did… and she liked it.
Who the fuck was this? And what had they done with the normal Harry? 
“You’re freaking me out a little.” She mumbled, checking off another thing on her list. “Like, you’re being pleasant. That’s not normal for you.”
"What, I can't be pleasant sometimes?" He teased, giving her a look. 
He couldn't help but grin as he watched her check off another item on the grocery list, his eyes roaming freely over her focused expression. He was enjoying this, he realized, enjoying the chance to be close to her more than he would have ever expected. "Maybe I’m just in a good mood today." He said, leaning against the cart.
“It’s just suspicious.” She glanced at him from the side of her eye. “You’re always following me around and trying to get me to snap at you. So excuse me for being a little confused when you’re acting so normal and nice.”
Harry liked working her up and getting reactions out of her, but he liked her. Y/N gave him the tummy butterflies, the excitement, the hot cheeks, all of it. She just didn’t know that- or was heavily in denial. It was his fault, he knew, from never expressing how serious the desires were and expecting her to read between the lines. But fuck, could she blame him? Y/N was a spitfire.
“Can you- fuck.” She groaned. “This can not get any worse.” 
Across the aisle, she saw her. Nina. Glaring at the scene of Harry standing a little too close to Y/N, doing a domestic activity like shopping together… It looked like they were way more than friends. This wasn’t something he liked doing and of course, the other girl would know that… So the situation didn’t look too good.
Harry could feel the shift in her mood as she spotted Nina across the aisle, and he tensed up slightly, ready for the inevitable confrontation.  Fuck, and they’d been doing so good. Of course, someone had to throw him a curveball. 
Good thing he was willing to work for this. 
"Relax." He said quietly, his hand squeezing her shoulder reassuringly, thumbing over the fabric. "I'll handle it."
Harry could feel the tension in her body as he held onto her, knowing that she was on edge. He knew Nina could be a handful, and he didn't want her to add to the stress of the situation. Especially after Y/N was seemingly warming up to him.
He took a deep breath and turned to her, his expression neutral but firm. 
"Nina." He said, his voice calm and steady- almost bored. "Why are you glaring at us like that?”
Nina’s eyes flicked between the pair, her expression hardening as she spoke. “What are you two doing?” She asked, her voice dripping with disdain. 
Harry kept his expression neutral, his hand on Y/N unmoving as he spoke to her. “We’re shopping. Is that a crime?” He replied, his tone cool.
Nina’s lip curled up in a sneer, her eyes narrowing. "Shopping? Is that all?" She asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Awfully domestic, isn’t it?”
Harry chuckled, unruffled by her attitude. "Yes, Nina. We’re just picking up some groceries. Is that so hard to believe?" he challenged, letting her try and intimidate him. It wasn’t going to work. 
The girl’s jaw clenched as Harry responded to her, clearly annoyed at the lack of reaction she was getting from him. 
She took a step closer, sizing Y/N up with an unpleasant expression. She really needed to not make that face- it was unflattering.  “Is this a date or something?” She snapped, her eyes flickering over to Harry.
Harry chuckled at Nina’s question, finding her assumption humorous. 
He looked over at the girl he wished would say yes, his eyes filled with amusement. "What do you think, love?” He taunted.  Maybe it wasn’t the nicest thing to do, but he didn’t particularly care. 
Y/N rolled her eyes. This wasn’t what she wanted out of this interaction. Hell- she never wanted his interaction at all. “We’re shopping.” She said lowly. “And we have to go.”
Nina pursed her lips as her response, clearly unsatisfied with the answer she was given. She never could leave well enough alone. Harry could see her gearing up for another snarky comment, so he quickly interjected. 
"She’s right." He said, his tone firm. “We do have to go. Bye."  There was no hint of remorse on his face as he motioned for her to get out of the way. 
With that, he guided Y/N forward, steering both her and the cart towards the checkout area.
“Christ.” Y/N rubbed her temples. “She’s gonna try and burn my house down. I know it.” She sulked.
Harry chuckled at the outburst. He continued steering the cart towards the checkout area as she went back over the list, a small smile on his lips. 
"Don't be so overdramatic." He teased. "She's not gonna burn down your house. She's just jealous."
“Harry, she’s scared like, 4 women away from hanging out anywhere near you completely.” Y/N sighed. “I know you don’t see it as much, but she’s tenacious. I don’t know what’s going to get her to stop, but you need to actually have a conversation with her to tell her you’re not interested. Or whoever ends up being your girlfriend is going to have to deal with her crawling around.”
Harry’s smile faded slightly as she mentioned Nina’s past behavior. He knew she could be intense and possessive, but he didn’t realize the extent of her actions. Considering he hadn’t even slept with her, it seemed like a massive overreaction. Of course there had been natural curiosity over some of the women in their friend circle had gone, but now that question had been answered. 
He bit his lip, mulling over the words as he helped her load the groceries onto the checkout belt. "You’re right." He said finally, his voice serious as it broke up the beeping of the items being scanned. "I guess I didn’t realize it was that serious. M’sorry. I don't particularly want to have that conversation, but it needs to be had. I’ll talk to her."
Harry continued helping you with the groceries, lost in thought for a moment before speaking again. "I’ll talk to her soon, make sure she knows for sure me and her are never going to be a thing and if she wants to try and scare off anyone I talk to, she won’t be invited to anything else." He said firmly, his eyes serious. 
"But first," he added, breaking the tense air as his tone turned playful again, "We have to get these groceries home. I’m starving."
It was safe to say that she was even more confused than she had started off being. 
Harry helped her bring the groceries into her place. He helped her unpack. He even fed her cat while she washed the fruit so she could put it away. Helping himself to her house like he had a right to be there, a comfortability that had her a little spooked. 
It was hard to accept the thought of Harry actually liking her. First, she hadn’t ever seen him with a serious girlfriend. All she had been exposed to was seeing him fucking around with different people. Secondly, he was always so playful and unserious that internally, the most insecure part of her felt like maybe it was a trick, and it made her more apprehensive of him. 
It wasn’t fair of her to be so judgmental when she was not a virgin mary herself; she knew that she wasn’t giving him a proper shot, but it was scary. He was scary, in a way.  Maybe it was the idea of how far feelings could go if she gave in, but it felt hard to stop those original emotions she had towards him from coming back. 
“Thank you.” She said awkwardly as Harry sat at her breakfast bar. “Um, for helping put away the stuff and bringing it inside. That was really nice of you.”
Harry, who was lounging in a chair at the breakfast bar, chuckled at the awkward gratitude.  "S’no big deal." He said, his tone casual. "I’m happy to help." 
He leaned back in the chair, his eyes roaming over her face, his favorite thing to do. Watching her was the best part of being around her.  He could see the tension in her shoulders and the uncertainty in her expression, and it made him wonder what was going on in that head of hers. Why she was so apprehensive. Yeah, he knew he had a weird dynamic with her before, but no one thought of him as a bad guy.
The longer he looked, the longer Harry could tell that there was something bothering her, and he wanted to find out what. Call it morbid curiosity, but it was needed. He leaned forward a bit, his eyes locked on her pretty face.
"You seem a little tense." He said, his voice soft. "Is everything okay? You've been quiet since we got back."
She hadn’t expected him to call her out on it, but she should have. Harry was as blunt as they came, and she could have laughed at it if she didn’t feel a little anxious. 
“I’m okay.” She wrapped her arms around herself, looking at her feet for a moment the soft green ladybug socks he had given her a laugh over. “I’m a little anxious, I guess. This new dynamic kind of… put me off kilter.” The confession hung in the air before she continued.  “I’m used to you being annoying and… I dunno. It’s unfair of me, but I keep getting nervous that this is some joke to you and you’re gonna go back to being obnoxious once I let my guard down.” She winced. “And I’m sorry. That isn’t fair to you when I know I haven’t been the nicest to you either. But I guess you intimidate me a little.”
Harry listened intently as she spoke, his expression softening as she revealed the source of the troubled look on her face. He knew that he had been a bit of an arse in the past too, and he could understand why his sudden change in behavior had thrown her off. 
He leaned forward on his hands, his gaze still fixed on the girl’s tense stance, lips rolled into her mouth. "I get it." He said quietly. "And I’m sorry if I intimidated you or made you uncomfortable. That’s the last thing I wanted to do."  He ran a hand through his hair, sighing softly. "And as for this being a joke... it’s not. Not in the slightest. Trust me."
“I guess I’m a little confused too.” She admitted. “Where all of this is coming from. I know we hooked up a few weeks ago, but you didn’t call me or anything after. I wasn’t expecting you to, don’t get me wrong, but then I felt awkward seeing you at all the events and stuff and you were acting normal. I never let you get alone with me on purpose because I didn’t want to hear you tease me for giving into you.”
Harry’s expression soured a bit as she brought up the hook-up. He knew he hadn’t done anything to dispel her doubts about his intentions, and he felt a pang of regret.  He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. How could he explain it without sounding as stupid as he felt? “I know I didn’t call you after, and I should have. I was an idiot… I just… I thought maybe you wanted me to chase a bit, that the ball had been left in your court after I dropped you off at home and… and I didn’t think, honestly.”  He ran a hand through his hair, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. 
“You have to understand why I’m a little uneasy.” With arms wrapped around herself, she let herself look back up at him. There was no trace of joking on his features and it did make her feel a tad bit better.  “It’s not that I didn’t like… what we did.” It was the best she’d ever had. “But I think I’m not cut out for just hooking up. I don’t regret it, even if I acted like I did.” She decided to give him a tiny bit of her vulnerability to see what he did with it. “I just know that hooking up, for me, never ends well. And I don’t know you really well, Harry.” She fiddled with the hem of her shirt, nerves shot. The last thing she wanted to do was seem desperate about locking him down or something, but she couldn’t lie to him or herself.
“I’m not trying to make you feel any sort of pressure to want to date me or anything. I’m just trying to lay down a boundary that for me, I think I’m one of those people that really needs an intimate connection and trust with someone. For some reason I trusted you that night, and I know you wouldn’t harm me in that way, but sobered up and standing in front of you, I feel a little apprehensive. Like, I don’t want you to feel any sort of pressure from me, but in order to have me in the way you said you want… it has to have some level of commitment is basically what I’m trying to say.”
Harry listened intently as she laid down the boundaries, his expression thoughtful. He could see the vulnerability in her eyes and in the way she fidgeted with her shirt, and it tugged at his heart in a way he hasn't felt before.  The last thing he wanted was for her to feel any sort of regret and he was glad she hadn’t so far, but he had to appreciate her laying out the law here. It gave him direction on where to go. When she finished speaking, he took a moment to process the words before responding. He can feel the seriousness of the conversation, and it's clear that she wasn’t making demands lightly.
He took a deep breath, his own vulnerability on display in his honest gaze. It was imperative to him that she understood how much he got it. How dedicated he would be to it if given the chance. "I understand." He said quietly, licking over his bottom lip. "I understand that you need a committed relationship, darling. I also understand that you need trust and intimacy in order to get there." he added, his voice soft. 
He took a moment to organize his thoughts, then continued speaking. It should be laid out in front of her. “You know, I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately… about us, I mean.”
“What do you mean?” She asked quietly, taking the moment to look him in the eye. It was the most serious she had ever seen him. Usually he had that smirk on his face, so smug or teasing, he’d be poking and prodding at her to get a reaction- but nothing about this interaction was insincere. It was almost off putting to see him this way.
Harry's gaze met hers, his eyes intense. "I mean that I've been thinking about us in a more serious way." he admitted.  He took a deep breath, his expression tentative. "I know I've been kind of hot and cold with you… and I know that I've played games in the past. But after we hooked up… I really couldn’t stop thinking about you. How different we were like that… How good it felt. So I want you to know that... I don’t want to play games with you. I want t’be serious about this."
Y/N hadn’t expected that answer. In all honesty she thought he’d reject her, say he wasn’t into it and keep it moving. That was what she was prepared for- not this. That sort of confession had her realizing that maybe she really didn’t know him at all. She knew some parts, sure, but seeing him like this was brand new. This man in front of her was a familiar stranger, at least this new side.
“I’d have to get to know you better.” She brushed her hair behind her ear, giving him a tentative look. “And it would be a little slow. I think I could give you a chance, though. I’ve been unfair to you, I think. I feel like we… kind of got off on the wrong foot.”
Harry lets out a small sigh of relief, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “I’m okay with slow.” he says, his voice sincere. “I’m willing to work for it.”
He leaned back a bit, giving her a little more space as a hint of his usual playfulness returned to his features.. “And I think you’re right… we got off on the wrong foot. But I’m glad we’re taking the time to get to know each other now.”
——-
—— 
Harry was coming over again. 
It was strange. Since they’d agreed to explore something romantic, seriously, he had changed. Not completely, not to the point where she wondered who he was before, but enough to make her soften up. Hints of him being a pain in the ass we’re still there. But he was… sweet. Genuine. A little silly in a cute way that she hadn’t allowed herself to enjoy before. 
One of the biggest shocks of all, was the fact that he was so gentle with her. He handled her with care, even if he was a little overly touchy. She was getting used to it because she found herself liking it, but he was the first guy to really be a bit of a clinger. 
That was the last thing she had ever expected from him.
His touches were soft and sweet and he looked at her with this little twinkle in his eye that she knew he couldn’t genuinely fake it. He liked her- liked her , liked her. 
She was still a bit shy with him, but it was slowly melting away each time they saw each other. Now the nerves were barely there, being overtaken by anticipation and excitement. It wasn’t something she’d ever thought would happen- being excited and antsy to see Harry, wanting him back in her house. 
He was coming over tonight and she had been prepping for a bit, primping and priming herself even though she wanted to look casual. There was never once so far that he hadn’t told her she looked gorgeous, and it had started becoming part of her daily routine. She wanted to impress him, make him say it again and mean it.
Her tummy twisted as she heard his car door slam shut, smiling to herself as she adjusted her cropped top and went towards the door. 
He was beautiful. Really, gorgeous as she opened the door to reveal him in the early evening light. He looked a little tired from work,slight bags under his eyes, but his smile melted her a little as he walked right into the house, dropping his bag in the foyer with little care for its well-being and picked her up in a big hug. Her feet dangled as she squealed, strong arms wrapped around her waist as he lifted her effortlessly. 
“Hi.” She beamed shyly, feeling him set her down on the floor.
Harry couldn’t help but grin as he placed her down, his strong arms wrapping around her waist lazily.. He loved how delicate she felt in his arms, and he loved the way she squealed with surprise as he lifted her up a bit. Really, he loved most things that had to do with her. Taking a moment to admire her cozy appearance, his gaze lingered on her cropped top. “Hi.” He replied, his voice soft and warm. “You look beautiful.”
Like clockwork.
Before she could respond, Harry was pulling her back into a hug, burying his face in her shoulder as he held her, rocking slightly. A prime example of how touchy he was, unable to stop himself. He nuzzled her neck, letting his cool nose brush against the hot skin. “I missed you.” he mumbled, his voice muffled against her, leaving a little shiver in it’s wake..
When he said things like that it made her want to giggle madly, but also melt into a puddle. He truly meant it, was the thing, and she had a hard time understanding how this had happened. How he had gone from her little enemy to the person she looked toward to seeing the most. 
“I missed you too.” She admitted, fingers tracing down his back. It was an attempt to get more open about her feelings. Harry was being candid about his own, so she felt like she could extend him the same grace. Even if it was slightly terrifying, she had no reason to hold back anymore.
Harry pulled back slightly to look at her, a soft smile on his lips at her shy admission. "I like it when you say that." he teased, his voice low.  He brought his hands up to rest on her hips, his thumbs tracing small circles on the bare skin. He loved the way the cropped top revealed just enough to make him want more, and he found himself struggling to focus on anything but the feel of her body under his hands.
Harry wanted her, and there was obvious desire for her there. In all honesty, there was a lot of desire for her in general that he had done his best to keep under wraps  He’d been so good, trying so hard to prove himself- but that didn’t mean he was a saint. He was beyond attracted to her in every sense of the word, and it was hard to ignore that..
“Excuse me.” She let her smile grow, her tone playful. “My eyes are up here.” 
Y/N knew Harry wanted her in all of the ways, and he’d been exceedingly patient. He knew she was trying to build their connection before getting intimate with him again, and she appreciated it- but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy knowing he desired her. 
Or that she didn’t have those same urges.
Harry's gaze flicked back up to meet hers, a cheeky grin on his face. "I know where your eyes are. I look at them plenty, do I not?" He replied smoothly, his hands still resting on her waist, giving a gentle squeeze.  He couldn't help but let out a small laugh as she shot him a look, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "But you can't expect me to ignore the rest of you when you're wearing something as distracting as that." Testing the waters, he was seeing how far his flirtation could go.
“It’s loungewear, you freak.” She scoffed, a hint of a smile turning up her lips. Leggings and a cropped top were a bit of a reward for him, though. She figured if he had been so patient with her then he could at least get to look at her. “But I’m glad you like it.” 
Taking his hand in her smaller one, she led him towards the kitchen to show him the pizza boxes and salad she had made to pair with it, feeling weirdly shy about it. That was the theme of today, considering she had come to a conclusion in her head- but he didn’t need to know about it quite yet. “I knew you’d be hungry when you got off work, so I ordered ahead.”
Harry's eyes lit up as he saw the food, warmth spreading through him. No one had been thoughtful like that to him before, but of course she would be. This sort of thing was why he had liked her. He’d seen it time and time again with their other friends and secretly wished for some of it for himself, that sort of care… and now that he got it, he felt that yearning for her get a little bit stronger. He let out a low whistle. "You knew exactly what I needed." he murmured, a grateful smile on his lips. 
Pulling her into him, his arms wrapping around her waist from behind. He nuzzled her neck again, his breath warm on her skin. "You're too good to me." he murmured, his voice showing just how grateful he was.
Y/N shivered slightly as he spoke against her skin, large arms wrapping around her and making her feel that same brand of delicacy that only Harry had been able to accomplish. His arms were just… beautiful. Built and muscular, covered in those tattoos, she loved every single thing about them. Looking at them, feeling them, how he used them… she couldn’t admit it out loud yet, but being in his arms was one of her new favorite places. 
“You texted and said you didn’t sleep well and you had a rougher day at work and… I dunno. I thought maybe you’d like something ready when you came over. I would have cooked myself but I had a workshop.” She rambled on a little bit, feeling the need to overexplain herself.
Harry squeezed her tighter, his chin resting on her shoulder. He inhaled her scent, his nose buried in hair as she spoke. 
"Mmm. " He hummed, his voice low and gravelly. He ran his nose over her throat, lips brushing against the sensitive skin. "You didn't have to do all this, you know." He moved his hands down over her hips, his thumbs tracing soft circles on the exposed skin there. "But I'm really grateful you did." He was quiet for a moment before speaking again, his grip on her tightening slightly. "Can I ask you somethin’?"
“Hm?” She replied. It was hard to focus. Sure, it would be awkward if anyone else say them just standing in her kitchen with the large man wrapped around her body, but no one else was there to judge her for indulging both herself and him in this sort of cuddle. 
Harry's body was pressed against her, a small smile on his lips. He really did enjoy this moment of quiet intimacy just as much as he enjoyed the more energetic moments where they’d go out or he’d help her take care of her garden.
"Can I stay over tonight?"
It should have been a scarier question to her, all things considered, but the answer came out of her mouth naturally. 
“Sure.” She nodded. There was no second guessing it either. “Is that what that bag was?” She realized he had brought in a bigger duffle than his usual work one, but she had thought it was maybe just to change from his work clothes.
Harry's smile grew as she agreed so easily. "Mhmm." he hummed, his voice low. His hands moved up her sides, tracing the curve of her waist. "I wanted to be prepared just in case you said yes." Presumptuous? He’d prefer the terms hopeful, even confident. They’d been doing so well, he had to at least ask.
He pulled back slightly, looking down at her with a hint of a smirk on his face. "So... where can I sleep?"
He turned her in his grip, letting her look up at his face now with narrowed eyes. Her heartbeat quickened though she tried to calm it down. He was teasing her a little bit, but he did genuinely want to know. 
“If you promise no extreme funny business… you can sleep in my bed.” She placed her hand on his bicep, squeezing a little. It was her own reward. “But remember, Harry. No sex. Okay?” Gliding her other hand up to cuff over the back of his neck, she decided it was finally time to tease him back a bit. “However… If you’re really, really nice to me… I may let you kiss me again.”
Harry's smile widened, his eyes sparkling with a hint of challenge. He leaned down, bringing his face closer to the girl’s.  "You're being bold, darling." he teased, his voice low and playful. "Are you trying to tempt me?"
“A little.” She hummed. “I like when you’re sweet to me. So if you keep it up, I’ll let you kiss me as long as you’d like tonight. I know I’ve been holding all of that intimacy hostage…” 
It had been driving him wild. Near kisses and her letting him brush his hand over the curve of her ass a few times before putting them back up to her hips, he’d tested the waters but got rejected. Now, she was loosening up a bit. 
“So.” She blinked up at him. “Are you gonna be nice to me tonight so you can kiss me?”
Harry's eyes glinted with a mixture of desire and playful mischief. He loved it when she teased him just as much as he loved it when she got all shy and flustered. Which one he likes more, he couldn’t tell. "Oh, I'll be so nice to you tonight you won't be able to stand it." he purred, his voice low and husky. 
He wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her closer until their bodies were flush against each other. "But I have one condition, little miss."
“What is that?” She questioned, unsure what it could be. With him, it could be anything.
"You have to promise me that if I'm being too... forward, you'll tell me to back off. I don't want to overstep. Even though I want to kiss you until you can't think straight. So promise me you'll speak up if I get too much." 
Her smile widened, nodding in agreement. He’d just earned himself quite a few points. Never had she expected him to be as respectful as he was, but she utterly adored it.  “I will. I promise, I’ll tell you.” She agreed, leaning up to kiss the curve of his jaw. “But it’s time for you to eat. I can feel your tummy grumbling.”
Harry let out a low chuckle, his eyes flickering over her pretty face. He loved the way her smile widened, and the feeling of her plump lips against his jaw send a shiver down his spine. More. He wanted more, and more, until their mouths were tingling and numb. Until she looked drunk on the kisses, clinging to him like he could only hope.
"Mmm. Okay, fine." he grumbled. "I'll eat. But only if you feed me, since you were so kind as to order ahead for me." He gave her a puppy-dog look, his lower lip jutted out in a mock-pout. It was good, she’s give him that- but not good enough.
“Absolutely not.” She snorted. “Nice try.”
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snakeredbirdbatkatana · 22 hours
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It was another competion the entire family all shoving and pushing each other into the car to see more of Damian's art.
Tim is excited for Damian.
He knows what it's like, to stand there and have no one show up. To be there all by yourself for hours the only one to visit your booth being the art teacher.
Ms. Carrington who would ask questions and ignore the tears that pooled in his eyes before helping him pack everything up, sometimes even driving him home because of course neither his parents or Bruce could be bothered to pick him up.
He can't really help the envy that he can feel building in his chest mixing with a good chunk of repressed anger.
A elbow being jabbed into his ribs distracts him.
"Hey what's with the face? Perk up Boy-Loser it's Damian's night."
He turns to Steph the smile that he had been attempting to plaster on falling. It's such a stupid thing it's a nickname so what if it's demeaning, he gets called pretender or replacement by Jason what does it matter.
"Do you ever think it's kinda fucked up that not a single person in this family calls me anything that isn't an insult?" He snaps.
She looks shocked. How fucking dare he have an ounce of self esteem. Someone alert the Media Tim Drake isn't a dormat.
He turns away sliding into the crowd.
There's less then half an hour left before he can leave. Pratically throwing himself down in the empty hallway as far as he can get from this entire night.
"Baby bird and Timmy aren't insults? Or are they I can't seem to keep up with the kids these days."
He turns, of course. You might be able to run from Batman or lie to him, but you can never escape the grasp of Big Brother Nightwing.
"So your admitting that your old?" he joins the banter.
His muscles start to unclench another superpower only Dick Grayson seems to have.
"Never, something you want to talk about?"
Does he? No. Should he? Yah.
"Maybe I just don't want be insulted every day of my life. So weird who doesn't want to be reminded they suck?"
He can hear the whine, he can also hear that everything he just said isn't gonna matter. You don't take whiny little boys seriously. And that's what he is.
"Hmm you know I get called Dickhead or really a lot of just penis related jokes. Always hated them not that it really stops anyone."
He looks finally making eye contact with his big brother. Because he's right. How many times has he heard anyone in the family other than him and Damian call Dick anything nice. Never not once. Maybe Bruce but he can't really picture it.
"Also don't think I didn't notice how annoyed you are with Bruce about this entire night, which I don't blame you for. You know I love Damian kiddo, but yah Bruce is not winning a mug from me or you."
He doesn't really want to acknowledge any of that already exhausted and he will have to apologize to Steph and if he opens the box it will be a car ride from hell home.
"Luckily for you I have a car parked a block up we can escape get ice cream and have a nice sleepover in bludhaven."
He wants to so bad, he wants to throw himself at Dick who knows him so well, who followed him out here, who isn't blinking, the only adult who has ever not somehow fucked him over.
"What about Damian? He will be pissed at me for stealing you or something. He doesn't need another reason to stab me."
He turns to look back at the floor.
"Foolish Drake I will be coming with you Father is being insesently annoying and I much rather talk about art with someone who has a brain cell."
Both him and Dick whip around to see Damian standing there a slight blush on his face hesitation making the corner of mouth twitch. He sees Dick looking on unsure. He doesn't hesitate.
"Thank god I know a great place with that Vegan Cookie Dough you like. What you waiting for Big Bird? Let's go. "
Climbling to his feet he grabs Dick and Damian dragging them to the exit he hears Dick's confused muttering sharing a secret smile with Damian before ignoring it.
The night is finally looking up.
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seungkwanniee · 2 days
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pairings : nonidol!seveteen x gn!reader
genere : fluff , angst ( minghao one )
warnings : little made fun of (jun) , panic attack but not at all (wonwoo)
synopsis : seventeen as love trope imo !
an : don't know when this is coming out but, -3 for bald Jeonghan. They are so fucking long that maybe i shouldve writed a whole series and not this but anyway
〔masterlist〕
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SCOUPS 』
age gap , age ain't nothing but a number
He loves having someone on his knees no matter what, and we know younger people are more easy to manipulate but i mean it in a good way. Seungcheol would love have you wrapped around his fingers, have you doing all that just for him make him istantly happy, it fills his chest with love. But he would prefer way more to spoil you with gift, love and money. You need money? he is already putting them in your bra. You wanted that cloth? it's already yours. He likes have you wrapped around his arms that are way bigger than your whole body. Loves the height gap, so he can lay his chin on top of your head and wrap your neck with his arm. He could care less when someone points out the age gap, he loves you no matter what.
JEONGHAN 』
unreachable love interest , talking to you means a lot to me
Jeonghan is that one popular guy that everyone is in love with, so it feels like he is unreachable. He looks like an angel and seems also so sweet and caring but at the same time interesting to be around. You was only one of those people that is blinded by his beauty, why he would even notice you and your odd interest? He never showed love interest on anyone and never dated someone, he was a little bit cold, you were being just delulu right? It was so surprining for everyone when one day his steps weren't the same as he does everyday to walk into his class: he was getting closer to you, he was going trowards you. Your heart was beating so fast that you thought everyone could hear that, while your face was already red just by looking closely to his face. This unreachable angel was talking to you?
JOSHUA 』
slow burn , a lot can happen in 6 months but didn't expected this
At frist, when your friend introduced you two, you didn't minded about him too much. Sure, he was looking pretty and his behavior during the whole hangout was so gentle with everyone, but slowly he became part of your daily routine. He got involved in your group of friends more, so you automatically spent more time with him and became good friends. He was always caring, helping you to go down or upstairs, sometimes playing your food, fixing you hair etc... be he was like that with everyone, there was no purpose below. But when your heart starts flutter when he meet your eyes, you know something was changing. You no longer see his action innocently, you everytime internally begged him to make one more move, more closer to you, more intimate. Your skin pratically craving for his touch was everything you needed. Who thought that this could happen in six months?
JUN 』
the quiet ( and smart ) boy , I was quiet but not blind
Jun was the quiet, and maybe weird, guy everyone got in their class. He never talked to anyone, and no one ever spoke to him. Jun was smart enough to know that that class was a herd of kids who followed the crowd and he didn't want to be one of them, his few friends were already enough for him. As I mentioned, Jun was a smart ass boy, he noticed one girl in particular. He didn't liked her in that way, she just was the one he hated the less. His classmates didn't mind when he could hear the non-pleasant things they were saying about him, every single one said something except her. Rather, he had heard her complaining with her friends their behavior, sometimes he could ever hear the sound of a little slap, maybe in the head, after their words. During class, often you eyes land on him, his head almost always lowered to the desk writing something with his relaxed form but today something was different. His legs shaking up and down while his hand was playing with the pen that was supposted to write down the paper. when a "you are too smart to be friend with them" paper landed on you desk at the end of the class, you got everything, as if your vision was no longer blurred thanks to a stupid note.
HOSHI 』
childhood friends , it's always been you
Soonyoung was laying between your arms, while his eyes were red and puffed because of previous tears. You always warned him about the girl he was dating until few hours ago: she never liked you and you never liked her. You never knew why she didn't liked you, just because you were Soonyoung bestfriend was a stupid reason. Btw, you had a strong reason to not like her, a red flag swinging right in front of you bestfriend face that the decided to completely ignore. You always knew she was going to cheat, she did before nothing was stopping her just because he was Soonyoung. You stayed beside him the whole time, he needed to heal from this harsh breakup, but this made things change with the time. You noticed how he was more caring now, he always been but you felt something was off for sure. At one point it seemed like you was the one that needed to be healed, not him anymore. But he considered you like her sister until few months ago, what happened now?
WONWOO 』
fake dating , I like you more than I planned
When you told about this to him, all he could do was be shocked, and you kinda understand him. When your friends comes to you and tell you to pretend to be a coupla at a wedding it was pretty weird, no? Plus, Wonwoo is so shy and reserved, but it was the best choice you could come with. You hated all the invadent questions they ask, the last time they almost made you have a panick attack so you wasn't planning to go throught that hell once again. When you were standing beside him, he had his arms wrapped around your waist. Occasionally, he would also wrap you shoulder, adjust your hair or wipe your mouth from the crumbles. You would notice how his ears go bright red when his hands lays on your body, or how his hands were slightly trembling. You wanted to make fun of him, but you were exactly like him if not worst. He almost choke when one of your aunts ask you two a kiss, you would pat his back trying to keep him alive while with trembling voice explained how shy you are to do pda in public.
WOOZI 』
enemies to lovers , are you flirting or starting a fight?
when you hear that your partner project is Lee Jihoon, you just want to let out hundred curses. This was an important work project, almost depending your future and they paired you with the person for which you have hatred. At the start, you two only warned the eachother how important the project was and reiterated your mutual hatred, for what is still unknown and we'll never know because you two actually started to get along very well. It was the most unexpected thing for your coworkes see you talking like normal human being, working like you never hated eachother, how you two seemed almost like the realest bestfriends. From now on, you two enjoyed the each other comfort company and used the extra hour to stay toghether. Everyone already knew how you two will be lovers one day.
DOKYEOM 』
grumpy x sunshine , I loved you so hard that I softned
You don't know if adopt the cat you have now it was the best decision ever. It didn't fall in love with you, but with your neighborhood and you two aren't even friends. Your cat would sneak out in the most weird possibile way even figuring out how to open the balcony window and jump on the near balcony. You were so embarassed to knock at his door and explain that the cat that jumped on his apartment was yours. Maybe it was annoying him, maybe he was that kinda of grumpy neighborhood (spoiler: you were) and will yell at you. But when the door opens, you find the exactly opposite in front of your eyes. He was tall but his face looked so bright, you don't even know how to explain it but it was like that. Your little black cat was laying so comfortable in his way more bigger hands that it almost didn't wanted to come with you again. You regretted how cold you were with him, but you never saw him and it will continue like that, you tought. Never been so wrong: apparently your cat loved soo much Seokmin that now it almost live at his instead of yours. You were grateful that he wasn't annoyed by that, he was a little sunshine, but instead it was bothering you. You never liked having convo with new people, and your cat was pratically forcing you to do that. You even tought to give it to him forever just to avoid his attempt of conversation, or his invites you to come into his apartment and eat something together. But at the end, you will be always grateful to your cat that letted you met your now boyfriend.
MINGYU 』
soulmates , I meet another me inside of you
It was so shocking when you met him and discovered that you two have almost the same tatoo, it was like you two were made for eachother. It was a silly one, with no meaning behind it at all and this made the thing seem even more on propuse. The thing you two didn't knew it was that you were meant to meet and never leaving eachother side ever. The stage of being friends it never actually exsisted in your relationship, catching feelings was so fast and never been so easly that you almost thought that everything was just a fever dream, it wasn't actually real, so unreal in your head but it was like that. You have you boyfriend by your side everytime you need to, he loves you with all his heart and actually got another matching tatoo.
MINGHAO 』
forbidden love , in another life
when Minghao's family dicovered that his girlfriend wasn't chinese as him, they were disappointed from the start. They were a traditional family, and Mingaho knew that, but his heart choosed her and he can't help it. She doesn't even looked like a foreigner, at some point you spoke chinese better than him. He knew that they wouldn't like her at the start, thats why he went slow with them, but he never thought they would overreact so badly. His own mother didn't even talked to him for the frist weeks, letting him guess how disappointed and upset he was. His face was full of surprise when suddently they asked for a dinner togheter, they wanted to get to know her but all of the sudden looked a little bit of on his eyes. He putted aside his thoughts, he was so happy and excited when he got that his family was starting to soften about his relationship with a foreigner. He never regretted a decision more, they made you come for what? to embarass you, bring you down and made you feel not enough for him. He got so upset for you, he was blaming himself and apologize in his knees, you didn't deserved that and decide that you two should go in separate path.
SEUNGKWAN 』
insicure / unexpected love , & then I met you
Seungkwan always been the insicure guy: he thought no one would ever love him romatically, he was more like the class clown and only seem like a friend to the girls. He wasn't handsome, he wasn't the popular guy becayse of his look, he was only popular for his funny personality, sometimes he would even embarass himself in front of everyone just to make his classroom laugh. He never shows how this topic upset him, gotta always fake a smile and pretend nothing, but deep down himself he is almost sure no one will ever love him but also he will never be capable to love someone. He is scared and unexperienced: he can surely make someone laugh, but he can love? he can give the attention his future lover needs? he can make the person feel loved as he deresved? He was sure he was impeded in love, until you came in his life. You was the unexpected love of his life, and learned how he was really good at loving, giving attention and those things. When you frist you went to him, he thought it was a joke, someone better reveal the cameras and stop it because it wasn't funny, he would be so upset for his whole life for be made fun of. But you was dead serious, you didn't seen him like the weird funny and class clown, you saw deep down in his soul and it was so pretty, unique and majestic.
VERNON 』
innocent crush , I wonder how I look from my crush's pov
He may be the cold and dead serious guy, the one that never show interest on nothing, much less for a girl. But when he revealed his crush on you to his friends, even them were shocked. And now, forget everything about the cold guy you always knew, he become so awkward around you from now on. He always tries to get your attention, but in the end he just looks goofy and silly. Seungkwan and Dino not helping him at all too as they just look way goofier than him or just make him in weird situation. Like that one time where they made fall his whole lunch in front of you, but that just got an interaction between you two so a win is a win. But I feel like this would just be a school crush, and you two will never ending up toghter.
DINO 』
second chance love , I will always choose you
When you met those familiar eyes one again, after almost a year you two lost contact, you got it wasn't never with that boy you hardly fell in love. It was so crowded down the streets, when you stopped for few seconds because of the shock, you already lost the sight of your friends. You quickly flutter your eyes when he moves slight trowards you, not because he wanted to, but because one his friend just bumped into him. He looks at him dumbfounded because hell, there wasn't almost space to even breath why he was just staning in the middle of nothing looking straight like an idiot but he quickly relized when he looks straight too. Dino never shutted up about you, not even when you two broke up because of his dumbness, and his friends needed to hear him yap about you for so long. They even tried to pair him someone else, thinking he was just stuck and needed a push to go out of this never ending situation but every single dated ended up by the girl being bored about him yapping about the same thing or better, a person. They always thought he was overreacting but well, they got everything just by looking on his eyes.
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Something I don't see enough people talking about is how Deadpool and Wolverine isn't so much a starting point as it is a send off to an era of movies of which we will never see again.
I recently watched the first Xmen movie and it feels so completely different to what we have today. It was almost like it was embarrassed to call itself a superhero movie and instead was going for sleek action movie, which was quite popular in the late 90's and early 20-aughts. It felt like everyone was wearing black jumpsuits because they were afraid they wouldn't be taken seriously by mainstream movie goers. (Another common theme of the time period).
Jump to 24 years later and it is a very different world. Not only do we have grown people crying in theaters over Wolverine's classic yellow suit, but people went wild when he pulled on his mask...could you see people in 2000 having that kind of reaction to that mask? No. The movie would have been dead on arrival. Comic fans would have ate the shit up. But I don't think mainstream audiences were ready for that sincere of a choice in wardrobe. It took us 24 years to get to where Hugh Jackman could wear that suit, and I think it was worth the wait.
The credit scene clips from the past 25ish years of Xmen movies and other Fox productions made me cry, not just bc of the song choice (the universal song used to invoke nostalgia) but because you saw how much they loved making those movies. That they were always fun to make. And even though no one had yet cracked the formula on how to put superheros on film, they put their whole pussies into it. And some results were great and some we still kinda use as punchlines to this day. And yet, both were represented in Deadpool and Wolverine in a loving way. Electra was not nearly as beloved as Blade. But I still heard both characters getting a cheer when they appeared.
It is possible they will make a second Deadpool and Wolverine movie. But I don't think it was the intention. Ryan Reyolds and Hugh Jackman both met on the set of Xmen Origins: Wolverine. Ryan was so taken with his character he spent the next 7ish years trying to force it into existence. Whereas Hugh spent those same 7ish years playing the same character and was happy to put him to rest. It just so happens they both wanted to make this movie together. And bc they were some of the original actors from the beginning of the genre, the movie ended up being about their friendship, with some sendoffs to old favorites who maybe never got to be in the limelight the way they did.
This movie deftly mixes sincerity with humor. It doesn't make fun of the audience for what they like. Instead it respected our love for these characters and their stories. No matter how weird or ridiculous they may seem on the surface, there is a heart and a love there between writers, actors, and audience.
And they got that. Shawn Levy, Ryan Reynolds and Hugh Jackman really got it. And so this movie was a love letter to all superhero movies: the ones we hold dear to our hearts regardless of how "succesful" they were.
It is like what Movies with Mikey says, "Every movie is a miracle," and Deadpool and Wolverine celebrate that.
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sanemistar · 22 hours
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᧔o᧓ satoru x fem!reader, established relationship (husband and wife), talks of aging, this is a little self indulgent, but i hope you still enjoy it <3
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you stare at your reflection in the mirror for a couple of long moments, and you notice that you’ve gained some new white hair strands which makes you realize that you’re growing old. you’re fully aware that it’s only natural and it’s a part of the aging process, but you’re too young to be having that much white hair, you’re only in your twenties. so you can’t help but feel quite insecure.
you’re too lost in your own thoughts to notice that satoru, your husband, is fondly looking at you from across the room. he slowly approaches you from behind and before you even get a chance to react, he back hugs you. his chin finds itself a home on the top of your head, and his arms are wrapped tightly around your shoulders.
“what’s got you so lost in your thoughts, sweetheart?” he lifts his chin, tilting his head slightly to the side as he hums softly against your ear, and your ears instantly turn red. despite being married to him for years now, your body instinctively reacts like this whenever satoru is this close to you. you’re hesitant to tell him how you feel, but words start to escape your lips naturally.
“i’m just worried about aging quicker than i should.. i have a lot of white hair already, what if i become ugly and you don’t love me anymore? i won’t be able to handle that, toru.” you almost cry pouring out your insecurities onto your husband, not even daring to look him in the eyes. but he lifts your chin up and forces your eyes to meet his majestic ocean blue ones, and then he lightly flicks your forehead, which you feel taken aback by.
“so that was what you were too busy thinking about? you’ll rock that white hair! plus, we’ll be matching together. i already have white hair, you know? so you’re not gonna be the only one.” he chuckles, not because he’s making fun of your insecurities–he would never dare to–but because it’s something he has never been bothered with, you’re the most beautiful woman in his eyes, that’s a fact that will never change no matter how much time passes by, so some white hairs won’t affect how he sees you. satoru has never loved you for your looks, but for your unique and charming personality.
“and what’s with that talk about the possibility of me not loving you anymore, that’s just impossible. you’ll always be my one and only wife, i love you.” he reassures you ever so sweetly, and you smile fondly at your husband while he leaves a trail of soft kisses all over your cheeks and neck. you can clearly tell he’s being genuine, you feel his strong love for you slowly wiping away all your insecurities, as you feel relief wash over you.
one thing satoru never fails to do is to make you feel loved and adored, he’s been doing so every single day since your marriage. because to him, you, his beloved wife, are the only one in this world that is worth being loved.
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୨୧ taglist: @yueliie @spkyssn @ayrastv | back: jjk m.list
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darksigns-exe · 2 days
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crystal clear - noah sebastian x f!reader
warnings: swearing, fingering (f receiving), more big feelings
word count: 2.7k
masterlist | read pt 1 here | taglist sign-up
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It’s almost midnight by the time you’re done eating and have cleaned everything up again. Noah had made no mention of what had happened just a little while earlier. He’d just moved on as if nothing had changed, while you could feel yourself burning up from the inside out. The spot on your neck where he had left his mark still feels so raw when you brush your fingers against it. You can still feel his hands on your body. 
He slumps down next to you, stretching his legs out across the carpet. 
You don’t know how to move on from this. 
No matter how hard you try, you can’t stop thinking about the way he’d kissed you. You’d never be able to uncross this lines – not that you wanted to. 
Noah lets out a yawn, letting his head thump against your shoulder. 
“Mind if I stay here tonight? Don’t wanna drive back.” he mumbles in that faux pouty tone of his. 
“Thought that was the plan?” you reply, bumping your head against his. 
“I didn’t want to assume.” 
He suddenly sounds so hesitant and insecure, and maybe that’s what makes you realise that this is just as daunting for him as it is for you. 
“I was hoping that you’d stay.” you trail off, hoping that he’ll pick up on what you’re alluding to. 
“That so?” Noah sits up, turning to face you, “We should talk first, though.” 
As much as you want to drag him back to you, you know that this conversation needs to happen. And the sooner it happens, the better. 
“I don’t know where to start.” you admit, writhing your hands together. 
He reaches across to take your hands into his, “Neither do I but – I meant what I said earlier. I’ve been trying to find a good moment for this for a while now, but it never felt like the right time. And then you kept telling about how all of these people were just making you feel worse – I had to try, even at the chance that you wouldn’t feel that way for me.” 
You want to reach out and smooth the deep set furrow in his brow, but with him still holding on to your hands, all you can do is squeeze his hands. 
“I’m glad you did.” “So am I.” he replies, scooting a little closer to you, “If you want to I’d like to give this a shot. Take you out on a date and everything.”
“One condition.” 
Maybe you’re pushing it but breaking the tension feels like a good thing right now. 
“Of course. Whatever you need.”
“I want flowers.”
He breaks into a bright smile, “Oh, you’ll get so many flowers. Every day. As many as you want.” 
Within the blink of an eye, you find yourself on your back once again. The sudden movement makes you laugh, which in turn breaks Noah. And when he kisses you this time, it’s all smiles. You thread your fingers into his hair as he trails a soft line of kisses along your neck. 
You’ll never get enough of the softness on his face, the gentle adoration that simmers just below the surface. 
“Let me take you to bed?” he asks so gently that it makes you shiver all over. 
“Please.” you sigh in response. 
You’ve shared a bed with Noah on multiple occasions. He has stayed over at your place so often that he has a small stash of clothes in your dresser. But no matter how often you’ve woken up next to him, it’s all different now. Sitting next to him on top of your bed feels a little new and strange. Noah seems to be just as hesitant as you are. And really, you get it. It’s a big thing. He knows that you haven’t been intimate with anyone before, and you can’t imagine that he’s taking this lightly. 
This time, you’re the one who reaches out first. There’s a slight tremble to his hand when yours wraps around it. 
“We don’t have to do this right now. We can just get comfortable and get to that whenever it happens.” you tell him, hoping that your worry for him isn’t too obvious.
Noah clears his throat, “I just want this to be perfect for you. My first time wasn’t good, and I don’t want you to feel bad about it later, too.” 
The quiet admission stings deep in your chest, “I don’t think I could feel bad about it with you. I know that you’ll take good care of me.” 
There’s a faint little smile on his face, a soft little thing that eases your worries and dampens the sting. 
“I’ll do my best.” he replies, squeezing your hand, “If something feels off please tell me, okay?”
��Noah.” you warn, earning yourself another bright smile from him. 
He eyes you for a long moment, smile still playing on his lips. 
“Think I could kiss you again?” he sounds so adorably sheepish then, and you can’t possibly say no to him.
The kiss that follows is impossibly sweet. Noah’s hand behind your head keeps you close to him, but there’s nothing controlling about this. You soon find yourself on your back, with Noah once again hovering over you. The warm weight of his body comforts the nervous edge in your mind. You know what’s coming, but you know that you’ll be safe and well taken care of with him. 
His hand drifts up the side of your body, slowly working its way under the fabric of your shirt. His palm is warm against your skin, his touch much softer than you had expected. 
“How about we get this off you?” he asks, toying with the hem of your shirt. 
There’s a blip of insecurity in your mind, but it passes as soon as you lift the garment over your head and the breath visibly catches in Noah’s throat. His eyes flicker across your bared chest, unable to settle on a single spot. You’ve never seen him this hesitant as when he reaches out to brush the tips of his fingers against the skin of your tummy. It’s almost as if he’s in disbelief at seeing you like this. 
You reach towards him, almost mirroring his own touch. Noah reacts a little delayed, slowly taking his own shirt off. His breath hitches when your fingers make contact with his skin. 
You don’t quite understand how something that is so very familiar to you, can feel this new. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but drawing the tips of your fingers across the intricate lines that decorate his body gives you an entirely new perspective. Noah lets out a breathy little laugh when you find a particularly sensitive spot. 
“You’re so beautiful.” his voice comes barely above a whisper, disbelief still evident on his features. 
You want to counter his words, tell him that you think the same about him. But the words just won’t come to you. Thankfully, Noah takes your mind off it when he leans down to kiss you once more. From here, his lips make a slow descent along your jaw and neck. You feel teeth grazing across the skin of your collarbones. He soothes barely there sting with a gentle kiss. You sigh when he repeats the motion, one hand weaving into his hair. His lips find the apex of your breasts, placing soft kisses there too. The attention he gives you is maddening. 
He’s so very carefully when he helps you remove the remained of your clothes, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. He’d stripped down to his briefs at some point, but with the rush of information and sensation, you must have missed when. 
Noah kneels between your parted thighs, one of his hands placed comfortable on top of your thigh, while the other toys with the hem of your panties. His eyes drift across your body, stretched out in front of him. The shyness you had expected to feel is nowhere to be found. Instead, you feel so very comfortable beneath his glance. 
“Oh darling.” he says with a sigh, dragging the backs of his fingers across your still clothed centre.
You gasp, not used to this kind of touch from someone else. 
He keeps is voice low and soft, “You're so wet already, and we haven’t even done anything yet. Can I take these off too?” 
You nod, feeling a little too shaky to speak.
“Push up a little for me.” he says, tapping your hip. 
Noah works the fabric down your waist and legs, letting them disappear somewhere out of your sight. His fingers caress the inside of your thighs, not quite touching where you want him to touch. You are by no means a stranger to touching yourself. You know how to get yourself off, but the anticipation of someone else touching you like that fills your head with fuzz. 
His thumb drags through your folds so slowly and carefully. Your eyes fall shut when he circles it around your clit. Noah mumbles something to himself, but the words don’t reach your ears. You feel fingers tracing along your entrance, and your breath catches when the tip of his middle finger dips inside. 
“Do you always get wet like this, or is this just for me?” he asks, sounding almost amused, “Does that feel good?”
You whine out a yes in reply, earning you a soft chuckle from him. 
He carefully eases his finger inside, paying close attention to the sounds you make in reaction. The digit curls inside you, drawing another new noise from you. 
“I love the sounds you make. Sound so sweet.” He muses, eyes focused entirely on where his finger works in and out of you. 
A second finger joins the first, still so very careful. With his thumb drawing slow circles on your clit, you can start to feel yourself unravel. The attention Noah pays to you makes your head spin. His softly whispered words don’t reach your conscious mind. Your mind can’t focus on anything in particular, flipping between sensations by the second. One moment it’s the intent curl of his fingers inside you, the next it’s the warmth of his palm on your hip. A whine catches in your throat, breath hitching as your climax slowly creeps up on you. As much as you try to keep your eyes open, you fail miserably. That floaty feeling only becomes stronger, slowly dragging you under. 
You’re right on the edge of it. Noah’s hand wraps around yours, holding it just tight enough. 
“You’re right there, aren’t you, baby?” he coaxes, fingers now moving faster and more intent than before, “There you go, just let go for me. That’s it.”
Your own fingers would never come close to this, and really you weren’t sure if you’d ever be satisfied with the highs you could bring yourself to. You’re sure that your grip on his hand is getting too tight, but you can’t will yourself to let go of him. Noah doesn’t let up, keeps working his fingers inside of you as you fall apart on his fingers. Only when your whines take on a pained edge does he ease up and slowly removes the digits from you. 
You give yourself a moment before you dare to open your eyes. When you do, you find Noah already looking at you. You can’t describe the expression on his face as anything less than adoration. You try your best to memorise the moment, just for the worst case scenario that you’ll never see this again. 
His thumb drifts across the back of your hand, effectively drawing you out of your thoughts. 
“How was that? Good?” there’s a trace of the same kind of worry in his voice that you hear when he asks if you like the song he’s been working on. 
“I don’t think that it’s ever felt this good.” you admit quietly. 
The worry is immediately replaced by that cocky smile of his, the kind that makes you want to push him over, “If you’re up for it, I think I can make it even better.” 
You can’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes at him. 
Noah breaks a second after that, and the soft sound of his laugh is like music to your ears. He folds over, forehead coming to rest against your tummy. His breath tickles against your skin. You decide that he’s entirely too far away from you and bring your hand back into his hair to tug him upwards to you. Noah follows all too easily. He meets you in a clumsy kiss, still smiling when he pulls away from you a moment later. 
“How are you feeling?” he asks softly, still so very close to you, “Good to go on or do you want to finish this later?” 
“Don’t you dare.” you try to sound serious, but you can already feel yourself smiling around the words. 
“Alright, alright. One problem, I didn’t think this was going to happen. I don’t have anything with me.” he sits up a little, suddenly sounding a lot more serious, “If you’d feel better with a condom we can wait.” 
You consider your options for a moment. As much as you want this now, you can’t help but worry. Even with Noah’s assurance that there’s nothing to worry about from his side, the caution that has been beaten into you wins. 
There’s no disappointment on his face when you tell him that you want to wait. Instead, his hand finds its way to the side of your face. 
“It’s okay.” the genuine softness on his face eases the fear in your chest a little, “We don’t need to rush into this.”
“I’ve been waiting for so long –” 
He shakes his head, “I know, darling. I know it feels like you’re missing out, but I’d rather do this right than rushed. And either way, I’m not going anywhere.”
You shoot him a questioning look. 
“Did you really think that I was going to just let us go back to before? I mean, unless you want that –”
This time, you’re the one who stops him from rambling. You pull him in for a kiss, silencing him before his worrying derails entirely. 
“I’m guessing that means we don’t go back to just friends?” he asks, that little bit of smile still fixed on his face. 
“I don’t think I could go back to seeing you as just a friend even if I wanted to.” 
Noah pulls himself away from you, looking somewhat reluctant to put distance between you, “Good. Don’t think I could do that either.” 
“So what does that make us?” you ask quietly. 
Noah is quiet for a long moment. You can practically see the gears turning in his head. 
“I don’t wanna do this whole let’s see where this take us thing. I like you – too much, dance around this for ages. We’ve done enough of that already.” 
“So what I’m hearing is that you don’t want to pretend to be my boyfriend when a weird guy tries to chat me up in a bar any more?” 
“Won’t have to pretend.” he replies so softly, “This won’t be easy, but I think we can make it work.”
“We managed to keep this friendship running while you’re off doing your thing.” you counter quickly, “Will be worth it either way.” 
His smile widens at that, “We’ll make this work.”
“We will.” you reply, stifling a yawn, “But that can wait until tomorrow – later today.” 
When you had found him on your sofa earlier that night, you hadn’t thought that you would end the night curled up against him like this. Or that any of this would happen for that matter. He’s held you like this before, but now, with his warm hands resting against the skin of your tummy, you feel so very comforted. You feel Noah press another kiss to your cheek, you’ve lost count of how many kisses he’s pressed to your skin since your talk, but they all make you feel soft and warm inside. 
Behind you, Noah lets out a content sigh, as his arms tighten around you, and suddenly you wonder how you’ve ever gone without this.
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anotherbananasong · 8 hours
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Promises You Made to Me (2/4)
It’s time for Air to face the clergy alone…
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“Nervous” doesn’t begin to cover how Air feels. The pressure from his corset barely comforts him. He’s had Earth at his side almost every moment, day and night, since they mated. Earth is his comfort; he doesn’t know what he will do without him. Earth accompanies him right up to the doors.
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Earth: (running a comforting hand over Air’s chest) It’ll be okay, skybird. I promise, I’ll be right out here until you come out. I won’t leave.
Air: (eyes already beginning to water) I don’t want to…
Earth: (reaches up and wipes his tear) Remember, Secondo said not to let them see. (takes Air’s hands in his own, placing a kiss on his fingers) Promise me you won’t say anything that will send you back to the Pits. Okay?
Air: I promise.
As usual, the clergy is seated at their raised podium. Even with their size, the Ancients still have to look up to see them. And to Air’s horror, Sister is right there in the middle. He’s never been able to look her in the face; she strikes such fear in him that he can’t maintain eye contact. Had it been just the clergy, like usual, he may have been able to hold himself together a little better. But not with Sister actually making an appearance.
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Sister: (after a disarming silence) This whole “kit” business… Whose idea was it?
Air: (heart sinks from his chest; he knows he was the first to bring it up. but admitting it would send him back to the Pits. and he promised Earth) …
Sister: (narrowing her eyes, satisfied with the discomfort she can see in Air’s glowing eyes) Don’t make this difficult, ghoul.
Air: (even worse, if he says anything that may put Earth in trouble, Earth may be the one going back to the Pits) …
Sister: (flicking imaginary dust from her sleeve) I’m your friend. You wouldn’t want to make your friend mad, would you?
Air: (feeling his lungs tighten with anxiety; he couldn’t answer even if he wanted to) …
Sister: (gives Air a long silence to build the tension) You want to tell me, ghoul. You know I have ways to get my answer. You don’t want me to have to take drastic measures.
Air: (looks down at the floor) …
Sister drills him for forty minutes, alternating between demanding he answer and leaving him in frightened silence. It’s effective, despite Air’s continued mutism. As he sweats where he stands, Sister can see that he’s weak. He’s always been the weakest of Secondo’s ghouls. She may not interact with him often, but she knows what will break him.
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Sister: (after the forty minutes of Air’s silence) Tell you what, ghoul; we have a lovely room for you. You can stay there until you’re ready to talk to your friend.
Air: (Secondo said “don’t let them see”, but he can’t help the tears at Sister’s new threat. what does that mean?)
Sister: I’ll have someone take you there, and you can think about your answer. Take your time; I’m a patient woman.
Outside the doors, Earth is pacing. He can feel Air’s torment through their mating bond, but Air is closed off from the comfort and encouragement Earth is attempting to send to him through it. He doesn’t know how long it’s been, but it feels like it’s been years. He finally sits on a bench and focuses on trying to reach Air through the bond, trying to send him a wave of his love. He almost jumps when the meeting room door opens, but his stomach sinks when it’s not Air coming out the doors.
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Sister: (businesslike and matter-of-fact) Return to your dorm. He won’t be joining you.
Earth: (didn’t know Sister herself was in that room; no wonder Air was so afraid) What do you mean? What does that mean?
Sister: You don’t need to ask questions; you just need to obey.
Earth: What does that mean, he’s not joining me?
Sister: (tilts her head, giving him a glance over) He has to think about some things. He’ll be staying up here for now. Return to the catacombs, ghoul.
Earth: (rises from the bench) Why is he staying up here? He has to come back with me… Why is he staying up here? What are you going to do to him?
Sister: I said no questions.
Earth: (Secondo said to protect his mate… this isn’t protecting him) No, tell me. Tell me why he’s staying up here. What’s going on? You let him out of there. He’s coming home with me.
Sister: (treating him to one of her terrifying smiles as he approaches her) Don’t ask questions, ghoul; you’ll make this more difficult for him. Choose your actions wisely.
Earth: (considers a million things all at once) … (hisses in warning, a promise that he will retaliate if they harm his mate, and turns to go back to the catacombs. alone)
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willmiwi · 3 days
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Thought I'd analyze Eddie's reaction to Buck coming out to him bc i don't think it's given enough credit.
First thing after buck tells him tommy and buck were on a date is Eddie looking confused, I don't even think what Buck said really set at all. He made the connection of the date and the first thing he wondered was "wait. Tommy's gay?".
Then, goes the question "so .... You two were...."
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And he looks... Shocked, kind of hesitant too, doesn't even end the sentence, maybe afraid he misunderstood somehow.
Doesn't matter because Buck comes to the rescue to finish it. He smiles fondly at Eddie like his hesitance is endearing and kind of like saying it's "hey it's okay, yes we were on a date, you don't need to hesitate."
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Buck is immediately insecure though; it's been a second and Eddie Still looks like someone has dropped a bucket of cold water on him. I think he's more focused on how this new information shocked him than doing what one does after someone comes out to them: reassure them. It's okay though, he's just surprised, nothing weird. And so Buck asks. "Is that weird?"
And he's looking at Eddie with that analysing look, searching for something and Eddie's quick this time. Pulled out of his own head.
"No . Absolutely not." You just took me by surprise there.
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Buck's still looking at him like that, like he doesn't really believe it. And so Eddie's quick with a joke too, he looks kind of nervous? From now on? Like we Needs this situation to feel lighter somehow.
It works. Buck finally relaxes and laughs.
Then, this scene:
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And Eddie's just trying to reassure him, telling him what every queer person hopes to hear when they come out, "this doesn't change anything, I still love you"
But Buck.... Oh buck, looks like that's somehow Not? What he was hoping to hear? He literally pouts, breaks eyes contact and goes "that's uh. That's good to hear"
Doesn't sound like he means it though.
He goes on:
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Eddie proceeds to yap on best friend @ best friend advice: If he doesn't call u back he's an idiot.
But then. THEN!!!!
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Eddie's reaction is what gets me the most here so I'm getting a gif that's a bit longer so u can see the reaction he has to that line:
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Again. Same reaction. But from Eddie this time. Pouts, rises his eyebrows defeated, and pointedly looks away. All while looking upset and Not all all overjoyed about his best friend is crushing on someone. Hello?
Eddie then gives him some advice about not giving up and Buck gives it right back to him. Eddie takes that opportunity to all but Run off to talk to Marisol:
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I think it hits him then that as much as he wants to run, to think about this on his own without prying eyes that want an answer from him right then and there, and just, Sit with it, That this is..kinda Huge, and maybe he should just put his feelings aside for a bit and reassure Buck a bit more. Like he doesn't want there to be any hint of doubt that Eddie's not okay with this.
So he stops by the door, turns around and they hug:
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That's it ! I just think this tells us so much about their relationship, especially since after this Eddie doesn't seem to want to hang out with Tommy anymore. And the few times they do he doesn't look like he's having the best time, if u compare it to before (he knew about Buck's crush).
If you got here, thank you for reading!
gif creds: @beets @livelovecaliforniadreams :)
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favslarue · 2 days
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Pro-hero Katsuki Bakugo NSFW inspired by THE DINNER - Billie Eilish
Warnings: Rough sex, stalking, dirty talk, humiliation, cumming in mouth.
English is not my first language, 100% accept advices and correction in the grammar and vocabulary, but please be nice. 🥹
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆
You never thought that you would ever commit a crime worst than stealing to eat or getting into fights with other delinquents.
But then he arrested you after you had beaten the shit out of some rich kid who like to go to your neighborhood and pretend they’re dangerous gang members.
When in fact, they’re just being used by the actual dealers, who know there won’t be big consequences for those kids, their parents will just pay the authorities and they will be free to sell those drugs to their rich friends again.
You knew that, you knew that the criminals you know wouldn’t let those people mess with your family, you knew that they weren’t shit
But for some reason, the moment your little brother came home crying saying they offered him drugs.
That one of them tried to persuade him to sell that shit too, saying that “your thot sister won’t have to sell her body to put food on the table anymore”.
That wasn’t truth, but still, your brother believed him for a moment. That fucking moment tou saw red, you couldn’t control your anger.
The moment you jumped that teenager you weren’t thinking straight, you didn’t consider that your brother had nobody else than you.
And that gang of little pussies didn’t dared to do something to you, so they called the cops.
They called the fucking cops, but the pro hero Dynamight came with them. Your neighborhood had a fame, so they thought it was something way worse.
Next thing you know, you are in the prison cell, after hearing all type of shit from that asshole dad, it really didn’t matter if he was the gang member in the picture, you dared to touch that daddy’s boy.
After at least 2 or 3 hours sat there, still feeling the blood pounding in your chest, you hands and knees sore and bleeding. A female guard opened that cell.
- Y/N? got lucky someone paid you bail - The guard said, she clearly wasn’t happy.
- Me? Are you sure - You said confused, you didn’t had a lot of people who cared for you, and those who did, almost didn’t had money to eat.
- Yeah! Dynamight did, even defended you when that kid’s dad were trying to take you on court - She wasn’t telling you that to be nice, she wanted to know what kind of relationship you had with the pro hero.
- The dad almost exploded when the number 1 hero yelled at his child for being a gang member! - She continued, trying to get something out of you. - He threatened to investigate the teenager and his friends. Do you know him?
- No! Never seen him in my life. - Why would he do that? You asked yourself.
Don't be afraid of me, I'm what you need
I saw you on the screens, I know we're meant to be
You're starrin' in my dreams, In magazines
After that, you stole a cellphone, it was easy considering your invisibility quirk, and connected to a neighbor wifi. You needed to know more about that hero. Just out of curiosity.
You followed all the online forums about Dynamight.
When somebody opened a Live video of him saving someone you ran to the place were it was happening, just to see him arresting the criminals and giving interviews
You're lookin' right at me
I'm here around the clock
I'm waitin' on your block
And after that, you followed him home, every. single. time.
Sometimes you even dared to enter his house. The first time, you managed to get in as soon as he opened the door.
After sneaking in, you couldn’t find a way out, so you just spent the night there, watching him, learning his routine. You even discovered his real name, Katsuki Bakugo. You watched him sleep that night.
He clearly was agitated, sometimes he woke up scared and turned the lights on, walked two or three times around the house, to make sure he was alone, checked if the doors and windows were locked.
He was smart to notice something was wrong, but didn’t figure you were the one disturbing his sleep, or so you thought.
You left at morning, when he opened the windows to let the sunlight in the room.
Some weeks later you had already figured every single way in and out, but he was being more careful, he even adopted a guard dog.
It was a huge one, you even considered stopping your visits, but you realized quickly that it was a gentle dog. It got used to your presence very quickly.
Trying to conciliate your obsession and raising your brother was hard, so sometimes you stole from his fridge. You knew he wouldn’t mind.
I waited on the corner 'til I saw the sitter leave
Was easy getting over and I landed on my feet
I came in through the kitchen lookin' for something to eat
I left a calling card so they would know that it was me
You were tired of only watching him, you wanted more. You wanted him.
So when you figured he needed a secretary, you took the chance.
Lying in your curriculum, you knew everything that he needed. And honestly, you needed the job.
You even eliminated the other candidates, you didn’t kill them, obviously. Just scared the shit out of them, some even left the estate.
While I'm away, don't read my mail
Just bring a veil
And come visit me in jail
You got the job, of course. And after all that, you can’t back down. You will get what you want. You will have him.
You were in his office, with other employee who were showing you the company.
- This is Y/N sir. She is your new secretary, I sent you a copy of her resume and…
- You can go now, I want to know her better. - He interrupted her.
She looked at you almost saying “good luck” and left.
- I know you, don’t I? Could you remind me where did we met? - He said, his words seemed truthful, but not his eyes… They were daring you to lie.
- You saved me once, but I don’t think you remember that. - It wasn’t exactly a lie.
- Saved you from what? - Fuck. He remembers.
You decided to gaslight him, you wouldn’t destroy what you fought so hard for. You have to make something up.
- Last year bank robbery, I was one of the people that were held hostage. - You thankfully know every single one of his operations by head.
He chuckled, looking at you in disbelief.
- You’re a good liar, but my memory is way better. - You tilted your head, trying look confused. - If the police station were the only time we crossed paths, maybe I wouldn’t remember, but the last months you have been quite present, don’t you?
But please don't call the cops
They'll make me stop
And I just wanna talk
- I don’t know what you’re talking about
He let out a loud laugh, it was dark and scary.
He got up from the chair and circled his tabled. Getting dangerously close to you. You didn’t move a muscle.
He was taller and significantly bigger than you. It was intimidating, but you and your sick mind were thinking about getting pinned under him, held down by those enormous biceps
- It isn’t a coincidence that you always are where I am at, working. I noticed you watching me saving people, every single time. And you always left after me. - He said in a low tone, if he wasn’t so close you wouldn’t hear him.
I'll go back to the diner
I'll write another letter
I hope you'll read it this time, you better
You don’t know that yet, but Bakugo were just as deranged as you are.
When he paid your bail, it was out of heart, but instead of moving on with his life he researched about you, the schools you went, your family, all of your crimes. Things that not even the police knew.
After that, he spotted you on a crowd of people that were watching him arrest a random criminal, more than one time.
Noticed that you didn’t leave even after everyone did, and that you were trying your best to not catch his attention.
You were waiting for something, you were waiting for him.
And after the third time, he noticed you using your quirk, that’s when everything made fucking sense.
All the nights felling watched, the sensation of being followed,
The feminine perfume that just didn’t left his house, his room, his dog, his uniform.
It was you, this whole fucking time.
Bet I could change your life
You could be my wife
He would pretend to be asleep just to hear your steps around his house.
Just to hear you petting his dog and whispering some kind words to it.
Just to feel you coming closer to his sleeping face and stare.
Could get into a fight, I'll say you're right
And you'll kiss me goodnight
- Mr. Dynamight, I just want the job. You’re confusing me with someone else.
In a quick movement he grabbed your wrists and put them behind your back, bended you over his table, and positioned himself behind you.
You tried to set yourself free, but it was completely useless, you could swear that he would arrest you right there and then.
- You’re fucking insane - He said in your ear.
The cops around the corner stopped me when I tried to leave
They told me I was crazy and they knocked me off my feet
You closed your eyes, accepting your faith. To be honest you didn’t regret a thing, at least he sees you now.
Also, his feelings for you are intense, even if they are anger and hatred, that is enough for you.
But a fucking kiss on your neck and he leaning over you was the last thing you expected.
Your body stiffened, you held your breath.
- What are you doing? - You whispered, shaking.
That’s when you felt his hard dick on your back. What the fuck? Was he excited from all of this? Was he fucking crazy?
They came in through the kitchen lookin' for something discrete
I left a calling card so they would know that it was me
- You’re not the only one who has an obsession.
He didn’t loosen his grip in your wrists, and continued kissing and biting your neck and sometimes the back of your neck, the kisses were wet and aggressive.
- And I am insane? - You weren’t trying to be ironic, you were just astonished.
He didn’t saw it that way, what lead you to receive a hard slap in your ass, and a hair pull right after.
- You don’t get to judge me, bitch. - He said in your ear while holding your hair tightly.
- I wasn’t…- Another slap, you took that as a command to shut up.
He lifted the skirt of your office dress and grabbed the cheek of your ass, that were red from the previous mistreatment.
He slid a finger into your panties and felt your wetness, holding your clit between his fingers while you breathed heavily under him, trying your best to not make noises.
Suddenly, your thong is on your mouth and he’s kneeling to face your wet cunt, he blowed cold air against it, which made you tremble. He held your thighs with enough strength to bruise.
You bended even more, and he licked your folds, sucked your clit, his tongue swirling around your wetness, creating a knot in your low belly.
His mouth is hot and ravishing, almost like he liked the taste.
- Mhm… Dynamight… - You moaned, not being able to complete your sentence.
And with that, you came quickly. The tension and need was too much to handle. Your trembling legs gave in, almost falling, if it weren’t his grip on your thighs.
You couldn’t process your orgasm and he was standing again, his tip teasing you folds, sliding from your entrance to your clit, and going back to your entrance.
You throw your hips back, trying to cause some friction. But you were held in place, and received a hard smack in your ass, and you could swear he used his quirk because of the unusual burn and the loud noise it made
- You’re a big girl, use your words.
- Can you… mhm. Fuck me? Why are you taking so long?
He chuckled, mockingly - I see you’re not so stupid, what a surprise.
Shoving only the tip, he started stretching you out, you’re not a virgin, but there’s way too long since you were fucked, and you didn’t saw his dick, so you weren’t aware of what expected you.
Only the tip already hurt, if it weren’t for how wet you are it probably wouldn’t fit.
It was clear that Katsuki was holding back, each centimeter entering you was driving you closer to madness. Your pussy is sucking him even more.
Bakugo decided to stop torturing you and shoved it entirely into you. It made you scream and the piece of fabric felt from your mouth.
He started pounding into you, not letting you adjust to his entire length, which is huge.
- Put it back in your mouth, if people hear me fucking my secretary it will be worse for your reputation than mine.
You obeyed, not because you cared about what people thought, that was the reason you were there anyway. His voice ordering you around made it impossible to not comply.
The table cracking, the friction of your nipples against it. Your pussy burning and throbbing as he fucked you from behind, his grunts and his hand on your hips and ass. Your ass sore from the smacks.
All of that helped another orgasm to grow. One of your hands reached for him, he held your wrist and pulled your other arm, to hold them both as he gripped your hair with his other big hand.
You came with that, held your breath and felt dizzy, almost like you were going to pass out. Your pussy had it’s own heartbeat at this point.
He didn’t slowed his pace, in fact it became more frenetic as you did your best to not keep the oxygen from going to your brain
Suddenly, he pulled out. Turned you around and pushed you into your knees.
- Gonna cum in your mouth, doll.
He stroked sometimes as he stared down at you, face with his usual frown, but his lips were parted and eyes darker.
You opened your mouth in anticipation, he grabbed your face, to keep it like that (but also to caress your cheek while doing it)
As he shoot his loads of seed down your throat some spilled in the conner of your lips, his thumb cleaned your lips and shoved into your tongue.
- Swallow it. - You complied - Good whore.
He stared at you on the floor a bit, you looked away, and that made him smile
He lowered to your level, gripping your chin, forcing you to look at him.
Caught you off guard when his lips touched yours, his tongue invaded your mouth, in a dominant yet gentle way. Your whole body shivered.
He broke the kiss and looked at you, without saying a word, he stood up.
- Get up - He circled his desk, without letting you see it, he took your underwear that it was above it, and hided it in his pocket.
You got up, fixing your dress and trying to put your hair in place, looking for your underwear, but you were too embarrassed to stay there longer, so you just decided to left without your panties.
Turning around to leave, not wanting to face the consequences, or him.
- Did I say you could leave? - You just stopped there, still not facing him
You feel him stepping closer, until he is behind you.
He put your hair to the side, exposing your neck and smelling you there. You got goosebumps all over your body.
I memorized your number, now I call you when I please
I tried to end it all, but now I'm back up on my feet
- When your shift ends, come to my house. You don’t need the address, right? - And kissed your neck. - You may leave now.
I saw you in the car with someone else and couldn't sleep
If somethin' happens to him, you can bet that it was me
–3956
310-807-3956
310-807-3956
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notjustjavierpena · 2 hours
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Happy Birthday, Joel
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Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator
A/N: Happy outbreak day— I mean, happy birthday to Joel Miller!
Summary: You have snuck out to have birthday-morning-sex with Joel. 
Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)
Tags: +18 smut, they are so in love, birthday sex, morning sex, Daddy kink, dry humping, orgasm denial, cowgirl, dirty talk, blowjob, come swallowing 
Word count: 2.9k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59232835
Happy Birthday, Joel
A window in the bedroom has been cracked. The fresh autumn wind seeps into the room each time it blows over the house, changing the air to something that doesn’t smell like hazy sleep but forces Joel to be awake with you. None of you feel cold though because you are sitting comfortably in Joel’s lap on his wide bed. He has his back against the headboard and a dazed look on his face, bare-chested, beautiful, and propped up against a pillow because you have woken him up like this. 
His calloused hands are on your thighs that are on each side of his body, kneading the flesh gently while murmuring about nothing in the soft pitch that he only has saved for you. He talks quietly and groggily about the weather, the work he has to do on his porch come autumn, but mostly about how good you look on top of him right now, too good to be real, and makes you giggle when he jokes about this being a dream. 
You lean forward to let him feel the softness of the wooly fabric of your oversized sweater brush against his chest, resulting in it slipping off your shoulder. You threw it on just before you tiptoed out of the door, didn’t even bother with pants because you were going straight to the car that no one told you that you could borrow. The sleeves drape past your wrists, tickling his neck and cheek as you touch his jawline. 
“Happy birthday,” you say with an affectionate smile, scratching his scruffy beard with your fingertips. 
“You’re gonna get yourself into trouble, sweetheart,” his voice is laced with sleep, his hands moving slightly on your thighs as if he is deciding how to touch you. You have heat building in your belly, desire making its way through your veins. He chooses to reach up to grip the neck of your sweater, “Sneakin’ over here like this.”
“I’ll be kind enough not to ask how old you are now,” you add to earn a low chuckle, not wanting to entertain the disastrous what-ifs that roam around in his head. Joel yanks at the neck of the sweater, exposing your already bare shoulder even further. He connects his mouth to your impossibly soft skin there, his beard scratching you lightly as he trails his mouth up a path on your shoulder. He kisses every inch he can get to without undressing you fully. 
“Good girl,” he teases back at you, nosing along your neck with his voice vibrating against you, “Don’t needa remind me that I’m old.” 
“You’re not old. You’re perfect,” you cradle his head in your hands, threading your fingers through his salt-and-pepper curls and sighing towards the ceiling. He might think that this - you - is a bad idea but the way his lips feel on your body, the way he puts his whole being into touching you and kissing you like he is starving for you, tells you one thing: Joel Miller cannot stop wanting you. No matter the consequences, no matter the guilt, and no matter how much he tries to convince himself otherwise. 
“Joel,” his name falls from your mouth like a plea, breathless and light as you grip him tightly, “You don’t know what you do to me.” 
“You’re stealin’ my line,” he gives you one last kiss on the column of your neck and smiles up at you. His hands go down your body again, giving you time to suck in a deep breath. However, it’s doomed to not last and your breath hitches in your throat as he slips his palms up under your sweater. His warm fingers skim over the small of your back and up the curve of your spine.
When he lifts your sweater up and off your body, you do not protest even if you are completely bare underneath it. His gaze is on yours with adoration for a moment of not wavering once before he takes the opportunity to look down at your exposed chest. 
Your nipples have hardened at the slight chill, your arms squeezing your breasts together a little with how you still rest your hands on his neck and shoulders.  He places a palm just above your belly button and runs it up your body, skimming it over your breast to make you tremble in his arms. He lets his hand descend again, this time with a knuckle brushing over your nipple. You visibly shiver, chewing on your bottom lip as he worships you silently. 
“Is my doll cold?” He drawls, voice thick like honey, and your thoughts start to blur at the nickname. 
“No, Daddy,” you tell him and it’s the truth; you are burning from the inside out at how much your heartbeat is racing nowhere in your chest, having moved south long ago to soak your panties through to his boxers.
“By the way, you weren’t right,” he brushes your jaw when his free hand reaches for your chin to pull you towards his mouth. His thumb dances over your bottom lip, “I know exactly what I’m doin’ to ya, babygirl.”
You give the finger a gentle kiss, parting your lips to allow him to feel your tongue if he wants but when he doesn’t move, you slip out your tongue just a peek to teasingly lick his thumb as an imitation of how well you suck his cock. He smirks at that, letting his thumb go inside the heat of your mouth. He presses down on your tongue as if to test you, whispering how good you are for him as he does it. 
Underneath you, his cock has gone from half-soft to fully hard in mere seconds, pressing insistently against your core. He might think he is old but this part of him shows no proof of that. You dare move your hips back and forth once, dragging your wet underwear over the length of his erection. 
He groans alongside you but your sound is obscene in comparison, escaping around his digit in your mouth. The friction against your cunt is delicious, so much so that the fabric between your thighs has started to cling to you. 
“Give Daddy some sugar. It’s his birthday,” he commands with his hips bucking up, not being able to help how his body craves you first thing in the morning. His thumb slips from your mouth, dragging a string of spit down your chin in its wake. He curls both hands firmly around your waist again, pulling you flush against him so he can move you deliberately on his dick and watch your tits bounce. 
He guides you slowly over his thick length with ragged breathing, staring at the quick rise and fall of your chest when your clit gets the attention it desperately needs. You grip his shoulders and arch your back at the way pleasure rips through you, and though your cunt might feel empty, you feel everything start to build already just behind your clit. 
“That’s it, look at you, this my birthday present? Jeeesus, you look amazin’, look at those tits,” he praises breathlessly, throbbing against the damp fabric that separates the two of you. He dares grip your hips even harder, his fingers digging into the plump skin of your ass, and pull you down harder on him. 
Your moans grow in volume, your eyes fluttering closed as heat racks up your spine from the small of your back when tension starts to build. It pulls the coil tighter and tighter inside of you and causes you to whimper, the noise making Joel’s cock twitch underneath you. 
“Tell me, baby,” he groans and you dread the command that might come because you can’t think right now. One of his hands slips up your back to make sure you don’t fall off of him. Your clit is pulsing on the edge of release, knowing that it doesn’t need much more before you’ll explode, “Tell me when you’re ‘bout to come, okay?”
You hate him for it but still nod anyway, unable to speak for a moment, your breath only consisting of tiny gasps as you ride the edge of your impending orgasm. Still, with your eyes squeezed shut, you manage to speak just a few, barely incomprehensible words, “I’m gonna— I’m so close, Daddy.”
But before you can finish, before that final moment where your brain shuts off to feel your cunt spasm, Joel has halted your movements by holding your hips still. You whimper, trying to keep going because the pleasure is still there just out of reach, but his grip is unyielding and his disapproving tone is condescending. 
“Stop, not yet. We do it Daddy’s way on his birthday,” he commands and nearly ignores the tears forming at the corners of your eyes, “Not until I’m inside of ya, baby.”
You whine in response, knowing that he is right. It’ll be much better with him buried in your pussy but your mind is so clouded and delirious with the need for release that it is nearly painful how he is holding your orgasm hostage by gripping your hips like he is. 
“Please,” you say with a tear slipping from your eye.
“Don’t cry, baby, I’m goin’ to let go now,” he replies, rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs and leaning up to peck your lips, “But I need ya to be patient. I can’t have my good girl act so bad just for her pussy to feel good.” 
His hands move swiftly to drag his boxers down, settling the waistband just beneath his balls to cut down on the time he’ll be without touching his special girl. The anticipation drives you crazy, a desperate moan leaving you as your hips start to twitch on their own accord. You let out a little moan, brows furrowed as you search for any type of friction. 
“Nooo, just a few more seconds, sweetheart,” he says and drags the word out in the same tone he would use with a puppy causing trouble. He digs his fingers underneath the front of your wet panties to pull them to the side, exposing your swollen pussy to the air in the room. You look down with him, watching how he positions the head of his cock between your folds. 
“Lift yourself up a little— that’s it,” he guides you, shuddering underneath you as you greedily sink down on his length. You should probably have gone slower, a feeble noise escaping your open mouth as you suddenly feel so full of him. There’s a mixture of relief and regret in you as it stings a little to have your soft walls stretched by him, the sensation enough for you to nearly drive you over the edge instantly. 
You exhale shakily, gripping around his cock tightly when you are seated in his lap. Your hands slide up to cup his cheeks, framing his face while you kiss him on the mouth after getting used to him inside of you. There’s only slight movement, a gasp here and there, a twitch of Joel’s cock inside of your wet cunt. 
You move a little to find that your clit brushes against his pelvis, and while capturing his mouth in a searing and desperate first proper kiss of today, you start moving your hips instinctively. Hearing the low, guttural moan that tumbles from Joel’s mouth in response is enough to spur you on. 
You feel his hands move up your back and around your front to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples while you ride him as if your life depended on it. He says your name in a half-chuckle and half-moan, tries urging you to slow down, but you are lost in the way he feels when he fucks you. 
“I love you,” he decides to say instead of something close to a scolding, pulling you out of your trance. You stare down into his eyes that are glazed over with desire, whimpering at the head of his cock brushing that little spot inside of you that has you hurtling towards your orgasm. 
“I love you too, Daddy,” you say softly, blinking down at him. He grabs your arms as they rest on his shoulders, pulling them from their place so he can entwine your fingers on both hands. 
“No-no, no Daddy,” he says with a ragged breath, glancing briefly down at where you are connected and angling his hips to make it easier for you to grind against him. Your moans climb in pitch and he places your hands on his chest, “Just Joel right now. C’mon, lemme hear you say it.”
“I love you, Joel,” you give him a hazy smile and rest your forehead against his.
“Good girl,” he whispers and then grabs your hips again. He starts to move beneath you, slow and steady in contrast to your youthful need of going hard and fast, his hips rolling smoothly and with no urgency. You struggle with it at first but he growls at you, holding you tighter than before and it feels like you might bruise if you disobey him. He guides you, controls you, steering you as you ride his leaking cock while your clit gets just the right amount of pressure. 
“Joel,” you gasp, starting a sentence but barely knowing where to go with it at the feel of him filling you up over and over.
“My perfect girl,” he replies. You make him groan when you drag your fingertips through the hairs on his chest, scratching desperately as the tension between your legs starts building again. 
It’s not long before you are teetering on the edge again, whining so loudly that people might be able to hear you through the window. Joel is right behind you, panting as the muscles of his strong thighs strain to make him pound up into you. 
You hold on for dear life, crying out his name as everything becomes too much, and your orgasm tears through you without mercy. Each ripple of pleasure has you feeling delirious, drunk on the feeling of getting pounded through the intoxicating spasms around his generous size and he fucks you all the way through your aftershocks. But even as it fades, he doesn’t stop moving in his quest for his own release, doesn’t want to stop before he has had his fill. He keeps the pleasure in your body burning as he continues spearing you repeatedly and it becomes hard for you to figure out where your orgasm begins or ends. 
You don’t know when you’ve started giggling in post-orgasmic bliss between feeble whimpers, bouncing in his lap as every nerve in your body is on fire, but you eventually start babbling ridiculously between gasps, “I can’t— Joel, I— Let me suck you off.”
Joel curses at your suggestion, his hips faltering for just a moment before he finds the willpower to stop his thrusts completely, “You’re gonna kill me, baby.”
“I would never,” you say sweetly, making sure that your words drip from your lips like honey. You push down on his chest to slide off of him, a noise leaving you as his cock slips from your dripping, used pussy. You move shakily down between his legs, pulling the covers a little to the side to make room, “Especially not on Daddy’s birthday.”
You can see how close he is by the blush on his chest, how much he is holding back, and you decide not to waste any time. You wrap your hand around the base of his soaked cock and lower your head enough to place a wet kiss on the head, looking up at him through your lashes. 
“Fuck,” he groans when you take him fully into your mouth afterward, bobbing your head with a hum and hollowing your cheeks. He is a treat, tasting sweet of you and slightly bitter of his own precome, “That’s it, princess, you fuckin’ know how to suck Daddy’s cock.”
You moan around him as a way of confirming the truth of that statement. Then you hear his head bump against the wall, the picture above the bed moving from side to side, and suddenly, hands are in your hair to guide you up and down on his length. Your eyes flutter closed and you try to focus on the taste and feel of him on your tongue. Your hand moves to cup his balls, your mouth stretching around him and moving downward until he hits the back of your mouth. 
“I’m gonna come,” he pants, his lower belly jumping with each ragged breath. You prepare for the moment he lets go, opening your eyes again to look at his stunning face when he gives it to you. His hand tightens in your hair, “You want Daddy’s load, huh? Wanna— oh shit, you wanna swallow it up?”
You hum. With a deep, guttural groan of relief, Joel comes in your mouth and his hips twitch while he does it. He spills on your tongue in thick, hot, and salty ropes of white, throbbing obscenely while you swallow down what doesn’t mix with your spit and spills down your chin. 
You keep him in your mouth until he has stopped shuddering from his orgasm, eventually pulling off of him with a wet pop. You rest your head against his hip, staring up at him lovingly, “Happy birthday, Joel Miller.”
“You little minx,” he chuckles, running a hand over his hair as he tries to catch his breath, “You had that planned from the beginning, didn’t you?”
And maybe you did.
.
.
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l4ndonorizz · 1 day
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like a prayer / carlos sainz x reader
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pairing: carlos sainz x reader
song:madonna - like a prayer
summary: overwhelmed by panic in the paddock, you seek refuge in Carlos’ driver’s room, where his calming presence helps you find peace again
wc: 900
The noise of the paddock was overwhelming. The crowd, the cameras, the endless stream of voices—normally, you could handle it. But today, it felt like everything was closing in. Your chest tightened and your breathing grew shallow as panic crept in. You needed to escape, to find somewhere—anywhere—quiet. Somewhere you could breathe.
Without thinking, your legs carried you away from the chaos, leading you to the only place you knew would feel safe: Carlos’ driver’s room. You slipped inside, shutting the door behind you and pressing your back against it, your heart racing. The room was cool, dimly lit, and blessedly silent. But your body wouldn’t relax. Your breathing was still erratic, your chest heavy with anxiety.
You stumbled to the bed, curling up under the blanket, pulling it tight as if the soft fabric could shield you from the panic. You tried to focus on your breathing, but the pounding in your chest wouldn’t let you calm down.
That’s when you heard it. The door clicked softly as it opened, and you felt Carlos’ presence fill the room before you even saw him. He must have noticed you were missing in the paddock, and his first instinct was to find you. Without a word, he crossed the room, his footsteps light and careful, as if not wanting to disturb the fragile calm you had tried to create.
“Hey, cariño,” he said softly, his voice a balm against the storm raging in your mind. “What’s going on?”
You stayed silent, your face buried in the pillow, trying to catch your breath. Carlos didn’t push. He knew. Instead, he sat down on the bed beside you, gently running his fingers through your hair. The touch was grounding, and you felt the tension in your shoulders begin to melt just a little.
“I’m here,” he whispered, his voice soothing and warm. “Just breathe. I’m not going anywhere.”
Your breathing remained uneven, shallow gasps that barely seemed to fill your lungs, but you focused on his voice—his calm, steady presence. Carlos shifted closer, one arm wrapping around you protectively, pulling you closer against his chest. “Shhh,” he soothed, brushing your hair back. “Take it slow, baby. No rush, no pressure.”
His words, the sound of his heart beating steadily under your ear, were slowly working their way through the haze of panic that had taken hold of you. You closed your eyes, letting the rhythm of his breathing guide yours, even if it still felt like an uphill battle.
“I know it feels like the world’s closing in,” Carlos continued, his voice low and gentle. “But right now, it’s just us. Just you and me. Nothing else matters.”
His fingers drew slow, soothing patterns along your arm, and with every pass, it felt like he was pulling you further from the edge. “Focus on my voice,” he whispered, “just me. You don’t have to do anything else right now.”
You nodded slightly, still unable to speak, but Carlos didn’t mind. He kept talking, his voice soft but persistent, always there, always bringing you back. “Remember that time in the mountains? When we sat by the fire and watched the stars?” His lips curved into a gentle smile as he recalled the memory. “That night, it was so quiet, wasn’t it? Just the two of us. No noise, no distractions. I remember how peaceful you looked.”
His words painted pictures in your mind, pulling you back to a moment of stillness, of calm. The tension in your chest slowly began to unravel as you focused on the warmth of his body, the steady rise and fall of his breath.
“You’re safe here,” he murmured. “With me, always.”
You felt the weight of his words sinking into your bones, bringing with them a peace you hadn’t thought possible in the middle of a panic attack. Your breathing was finally beginning to slow, each inhale coming a little easier, each exhale no longer feeling like a battle.
Carlos noticed the change, his hand resting gently on your back. “That’s it,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead. “You’re doing so well. Just breathe with me, okay?”
He continued speaking, his voice steady and comforting as he reminded you of all the quiet, beautiful moments you’d shared together. The day you watched the sunset on the beach, the rainy afternoons spent tangled up in each other’s arms, the mornings when the world didn’t exist beyond your shared space.
“Whenever it gets too much,” Carlos said softly, “just remember those moments. They’re always here, waiting for you. And I’m always here.”
You closed your eyes, letting yourself sink fully into his embrace, the last remnants of panic finally loosening their grip on you. The world outside faded, leaving only his soft voice, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and the warmth of his arms around you.
After what felt like forever, you finally lifted your head, your eyes still glassy with the remnants of tears. Carlos met your gaze, his eyes full of concern but also so much love.
For a moment, the words stuck in your throat, but when you finally found your voice, it was quiet, raw. “Your voice…” you whispered, “it’s like a prayer. Every time I hear it… it brings me back.”
Carlos’ expression softened as he cupped your face and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll keep talking then,” he whispered against your skin, “for as long as you need.”
And in that moment, with Carlos holding you so close, you knew you didn’t need anything else. His voice, his presence—it was your safe space. It always had been.
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metalomagnetic · 4 hours
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Either must die snippet
***A dear friend asked on discord if I have some EMD writing left, so here it is.***
----
Harry hadn’t stopped screaming since he entered the kitchen; he’s furious. It’s been a long time since he exploded in such righteous anger.
Cheeks red, jaws set, and those damned eyes of his glinting. Why, it’s almost like before, back in the war. Of course, now at least he can appear somewhat intimidating, what with the size of him. He doesn’t intimidate Voldemort, but it is easy to imagine he could make a random individual cower. Voldemort would like to see Harry going off like this on some pesky journalists or one of his stalker fans. It would be entertaining.
As it is, it’s not entertaining at the moment. It irritates Voldemort to be screamed at.
One flick of his wrist, and he could silence Harry. Another flick and he can send him crashing into the wall. To resist temptation, he drums his fingers on the table, reaches inside to find patience. It’s getting harder and harder to be patient these days. He had to suffer it for a while, but now he’s back in power. A Minister, not a war lord, yet people learned not to trifle with him, not to glare at him, not to talk back.
Even Harry learned, as the years passed by. He minded his business, and he let Voldemort be. Yet it’s not worth the trouble to put him in his place, now. He can already imagine the dramatics that would follow. Harry would break again, and Voldemort will either have to lock him in an attic, never to be allowed in public, or he’d have to put in the effort to build him back up, and he certainly lacks the patience for that. Hermione would be insufferable about it. Delphini would cry.
Harry must be aware of these unpleasant outcomes, too, because while he screams, he doesn’t dare do more than that. He cries, too, tears of pain and frustration and pure despair. That improves Voldemort’s mood a tad. Harry always looks good when he’s crying. “I asked for one thing!” his voice breaks, rough. “One thing! You have everything, and I said nothing- you use me, you use my name, you- I only asked for one thing.”
What a lie. Harry might not verbally ask for much, but those pitiful eyes of his ask plenty, and Voldemort gives it to him. The ungrateful brat.
“And you couldn’t let me have it! You’re a monster!”
Show him, a voice begs, a voice that was dormant for so long, but it’s waking up lately. Show him the monster. Show him how patient you’d been with him all these years. Show him how it could have been.
Voldemort ignores it. His fingers curl around the table, momentarily, because just drumming them isn’t enough anymore, he itches for his wand, but then the crisis is avoided, and he is in control, he won’t snap. He does stand, because it’s safe to do it, his temper is in check, and Harry tired himself out with his tantrum. “You asked for her life,” Voldemort reminds him. “She is alive.” Moly Weasley lives. Thought it seems a misfortune befell her earlier that day. Well earned. Delicious revenge. Harry, sadly, is not the type to enjoy the poetic justice, the mastery in this delivery of punishment.
She lives, like he wanted, she isn’t even in pain, but the score was settled. Fleetingly, he wonders if Bella is happy, if she laughs gleefully in the afterlife. Perhaps not- Bella was never one for poetry, for subtlety. She got her vengeance in blood and screams. Harry stares at him, shaking his head. “I hate you,” he whispers. Voldemort did not want to break him, but he broke, anyway. So fragile, this boy of his, despite his impressive muscles, he shatters like glass. “Nothing new,” Voldemort replies, and walks out of the kitchen.
As soon as he reaches the garden, he feels his anger rising, now that he isn’t focused on not hurting Harry until he explodes into a pile of blood and bones. He gets angrier and angrier with every step. He feels as impotent as Harry must feel. No matter how mad the boy was, how obviously hurting, he did not even think to draw his wand at Voldemort, or punch him, like he once did. He would have- for Molly fucking Weasley, he would have. Harry has few limits, but the Weasleys are one. Harry would crash and burn with them, for them, the world be damned. He didn’t, however, because he must know, deep down, that it wasn’t Voldemort. But he can’t admit it to himself, not consciously. Voldemort is a convenient scapegoat. Voldemort is a monster, rotten and evil, and it’s easier for Harry this way. Easier than the truth.
He Apparates to Lestrange Manor, and he thinks of Bella again. How odd- he hadn’t truly thought of her in years, but now he feels her around; when he walks to Lestrange Manor, is feels like before, like when he’d walk this path and knew he’d find her and Rodolphus inside. He doesn’t, of course. He finds a copy of her, instead. Bella left him copies of herself, echoes that remain to dwell the earth in her absence. Voldemort walks past Andromeda, strolls through the Manor, until he finds Rodolphus’ copy.
Voldemort knows Rabastan is guilty as soon as he lays eyes on him. That stiff posture, the fear in his eyes, even if he keeps his chin up, defiant. “Your wand,” he snarls. Andromeda followed him, she’s frowning, confused, asking what the matter is. The matter is that Voldemort was disobeyed. “Leave,” Rabastan begs her. “Leave,” Voldemort snarls at her. Andromeda is a cheaper copy of Bella, in all senses. Tamer, sadder, broken. But wiser. She leaves.
Rabastan gives up ‘his’ wand. It’s not his, of course, just like Voldemort suspected. He knew, as Harry was screeching, as Voldemort sat there trying not to snap, he was thinking how all this could have been accomplished. Delphini is at Hogwarts, after all. Impossible for her to also be at the Burrow. Unless she Apparated there. But she wouldn’t risk doing all that with her wand. It became quite obvious who would have given her a wand. “It had to be done,” Rabastan dares to speak. “You moved on, but I can’t; not until justice was served. You moved on, but Delphi couldn’t.” Delphini is a far better copy of Bella, compared to Andromeda. But, as Voldemort feared- you do not fear!- as Voldemort suspected, she is no true copy of her mother. Oh, she’s her spitting image, she has some Black traits in her personality, but no- Delphi is his copy. The anger reaches its peak. Voldemort always treasured Rabastan over most others, awarded him more leeway than most others. But Rabastan is no Harry, he’s no Delphini, and Voldemort snaps.
He reminds Rabastan who he serves, whose mark is on his arm. Useless, of course. Rabastan was never one to cow for pain, nor learn from it. Yet his pain serves to soothe some of Voldemort’s anger, lets him take it out on him. Another convenient scapegoat.
(-)
She does walk like Bella, a confident, defiant tilt to her hips. She walks loudly, proudly, as if used to have others look at her in awe, covet her. She brought her heels, even if the path to the Forbidden Forest is not exactly best suited for heels. Whenever she angers him, she knows to make herself look even more like her mother.
Once, when he searched her mind, he saw Rodolphus teaching her this, on the night before he left her at Rowle’s. “It’s best if you look like her,” he told her, advising her to let her hair free, to wear the dresses Bella favoured. “He treasured her above all others, and, in time, I hope he’ll treasure you, too.” She doesn’t stop at a respectable distance, like Bella would have done when she knew she messed up, when she angered him. No. Delphini comes close, closer than anyone dares.
She’s taller than Bella already, and the heels almost bring her up to his chin. She looks up, and those are his eyes, that is his glare, his defiance, his stubbornness. “What potion did you give her?” “My own invention,” Delphini says, and pride flushes stronger on her face. “They won’t detect it.” “And if they do, then what is the problem, no?” Voldemort asks. “Who is going to suspect a perfect school girl? And if they do suspect her, who is going to blame the Minister’s daughter? Who would dare arrest her?” Delphini shrugs.
“If you plan on using my influence to stay out of trouble, if you know you can easily fall back on me to protect you, then you should discuss things with me before you do them.” “Why bother,” she spits. “You would have said ‘no’. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission.” He should have tortured Rabastan more, because not all the anger is out of his system. Furry comes back hot, coursing through his veins, going to his head. “Ask for forgiveness, then,” he hisses, and he takes the step that separated them, towers over her. If she wants to play these games, he’ll play them. She will lose. It’s time for her to learn to lose- Harry spoiled her, far too much. He ignored Voldemort’s warnings that Delphini shouldn’t get away with everything she does, that he should push back, whenever she tests them.
As always, Harry’s kind, tolerant heart, explodes spectacularly in his face.
Delphini doesn’t cower, not truly, but he can detect the current of fear that passes through her. Strangely, it does nothing to improve his mood. Terrifying people usually soothes his fury, but now it just taints it with an unknowable feeling. “I thought you loved Harry,” he says, softly.
“I do!” Her fingers curl into fists at her side. Her neck is bent back uncomfortably, trying to keep Voldemort’s gaze. “She’s alive, isn’t she? Like he asked. She loves Harry, didn’t forget him, and she’ll no doubt dote over him, like a mother. In fact, now that she only remembers loving him, she’ll love him even more! I took nothing from Harry! He can have his pretend mummy! I only took away the memories of all her living children! It’s only fair!”
Delphini’s voice gets louder. Defensive. “She stole my mother from me! So it’s only fair she forgets all the beautiful memories she has with her children, memories she didn’t let me form with my mother. It’s only fair she will only remember her dead son, like I have to remember my dead mother, every time I step foot into the Great Hall, where that harpy took her from me. From us! You lost her, too! And now Molly Weasley cannot remember her husband, either! It’s fair, it is!”
It is beautiful, he agrees. It is poetic and it is just. It is perfect. However.
“You knew he’ll blame me for it; you understand he’s devastated; you understand how he’ll avoid me now, how he’ll suffer, how he’ll moan and whine at me for months on end, start drinking again, retreat into his spare bedroom and rot there for who knows how long. You are perfectly aware Hermione will blame me, too. That it could potentially harm my work. You knew this would affect me. And you did it anyway.” He cups Delphini’s face, and she finally flinches, though she doesn’t draw back.
So beautiful, this child. So intelligent. She loves Voldemort, understands him like no other. His perfect girl. If Voldemort would have ever wanted a daughter, if he’d have been given the chance to make her, build her from scratch- this is what he’d have imagined. Only, he still wishes she would have been more like Bella, or Rodolphus, or Harry; it would have been easier. For him, and for her. Alas, she is not like them. She is like him.
“She deserves it,” Delphini insists. “She hurt me!” Ever her tears are perfect, pretty shapes, clear, trailing down her cheeks. “That never works with me, Delphini,” he reminds her, using his thumb to brush one tear away. “I know!” she hisses. “Nothing works with you! That’s why I didn’t ask! Because you give Harry everything he asks, you are so attentive to provide him with what he needs, but you never care about what I want. What I need. I asked you to punish her, you promised me, remember? When I first met Ron. You promised me! But then Harry asked you to spare her, and you did what he wanted. You forgot about me, about my pain-“
“Shut up,” he says, softly. “I allow you far more than I would anyone else. Harry is my prisoner, he does only what I allow him to do, even if he deluded himself into thinking otherwise. I give you freedom. I don’t make decisions for you. I accept you as you are. But-“ he takes his hand away. “Do not trespass against me, Delphini,” he warns her. “If you want to hurt others, don’t use your mother as an excuse to do it. More importantly, don’t hurt people that are useful to me. Ask before you pull something like this again. And when I say ‘no’, better heed it. Or leave. Go far away, and make trouble there. This is my country, and nothing happens inside it without my say so. I worked for sixty years to subdue this island. If you want that kind of power, you will have to work for it, too.”
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rieamena · 23 hours
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ten: engine ᯓ★
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the message is vague enough to keep him in the dark, but you know it’ll get him to come. it’s not like you ask him for serious talks often; most of your time together is filled with playful teasing and lighthearted moments. but tonight, you need answers
you arrive at the park first. it’s quiet and dark, with only the rustling of leaves and the distant hum of city life in the background. the swings creak lightly in the cold breeze, and as you sit down on one, you can’t help but feel a sense of anticipation tighten in your chest
you’ve known for a while that something has been off with takuma, but he’s been good at hiding it. or at least, he thought he was. you've caught the small signs—the way his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes anymore, the way he avoids eye contact during conversations that cut a little too deep
it’s unlike him, the takuma who’s always brimming with energy and confidence. and that’s why you asked him to meet here, in a place where you both feel at ease. it’s a space where neither of you have to wear masks
when takuma finally arrives, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets and his usual laid-back grin on his face, you feel a flicker of doubt. should you really bring this up? what if he shuts you out?
but then, his grin falters as he approaches you, noticing the serious look on your face
"hey, you okay?" he asks, leaning against the swing set’s frame, brown hair peeking out of his black beanie. "you sounded kind of… intense in your message."
you take a deep breath, watching the way he fidgets slightly, and gesture for him to sit on the swing beside yours. the soft creak of metal accompanies his movements as he settles next to you, his shoulder brushing against yours
"i’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while," you start, your voice calm but tinged with the weight of the conversation ahead. "i feel like something’s been bothering you… and i just want to know what’s going on."
takuma shifts uncomfortably, his eyes darting away from yours as he tries to laugh it off. "what? nah, i’m fine. i’m the same old takuma you've always—"
"don’t," you interrupt gently, reaching out to lightly touch his arm. "don’t pretend like everything’s okay. i can tell something’s been off since the beginning. your interactions with toji, your insecurity before the race…"
the words hang in the air, heavy and undeniable. he glances at you, his easygoing façade cracking slightly, revealing the turmoil underneath. his jaw tightens, and you can see the battle in his mind—whether to keep pretending or let the truth spill out
after a long, tense pause, he sighs deeply, his shoulders slumping forward. he rubs a hand over his face, looking more vulnerable than you’ve ever seen him
"it’s not that i didn’t want to tell you," he begins, his voice quieter now. "i just… i didn’t know how to say it. and part of me didn’t want to burden you with it."
"burden me with what?" you ask, heart racing
takuma looks down at his feet, the swing swaying slightly under his weight as he takes another deep breath. "it’s toji. training with him, getting into motogp, it’s… it’s been harder than i thought it would be. at first, i was all in, you know? i wanted to prove i could do it. prove i could live up to his expectations."
you sit quietly, letting him speak at his own pace. his usual relaxed demeanor has melted away, leaving behind someone who’s been carrying a heavy weight in silence
"i mean he's the one who recruited me. he saw something in me. but… it’s never enough," he says, his voice tinged with frustration and self-doubt. "no matter how hard i push, no matter how much i improve, it’s like… like i’m always falling short. toji sets these insane standards—perfect turns, perfect laps, perfect everything. i thought i could handle it, but it’s been messing with my head."
his hand tightens around the chain of the swing, knuckles turning white. "every mistake, every criticism… it’s just piling up. and now, i can’t even look at myself without feeling like i’m failing. like i’m not good enough."
you stare at him, your chest tightening at the rawness of his confession. you never imagined that beneath his confident exterior, takuma was battling this deep sense of inadequacy
"takuma…" you murmur, reaching out to place your hand over his. he flinches slightly at the contact but doesn’t pull away
"i thought i could handle it," he continues, voice shaky now. "i really did. but the truth is, all that negativity… it’s been dragging me down. i didn’t want you to see me like this—weak, second-guessing everything. i didn’t want you to think i was…" he trails off, unable to finish the sentence, as if saying the words aloud would make them real.
you squeeze his hand gently, trying to convey in that single touch how much you care, how much he means to you. "you’re not weak, takuma. not to me. you’re strong, and you’ve worked so hard to get where you are. it’s okay to feel this way—it doesn’t make you any less of who you are."
you shift your body, turning to him fully. "plus, you're the best racer i know. seriously."
he looks at you then, really looks at you, and for the first time, you see the vulnerability in his eyes that he’s been hiding. the air between you shifts, charged with a sudden intensity that neither of you can ignore. the way his gaze softens, the way his breath hitches slightly—there’s something there, simmering just beneath the surface
"i don’t know what i’d do without you," he whispers, his words barely audible, as if he’s scared to admit just how much he’s relied on you. "i don't know how i lived before a month ago."
the closeness between you feels electrifying, like the air itself is alive with unspoken emotions. you hear your swing creak softly as it drifts back and forth, watching his do the same as well
"takuma…" you breathe, your heart pounding in your chest. the tension is thick, undeniable, and you know exactly where it’s heading. you’ve felt this pull before, but never like this—never so overwhelming, so inevitable
"i… i have something else to say. since we're sharing secrets and all… even though im two for two and you're just listening but…" takuma asks, clearing his throat soon after. "can you come over here?"
the creak of the metal was heard as you stood up from the rubber seating. ino wasn't even a full two feet away from you and you could hear each other perfectly from where you were sitting but you still walked over and positioned yourself right in front of him. you hear him mutter something along the lines of ‘it's okay. i got this’, before actually starting to speak to you again
"uh… i um… i– no. i-i—," he pauses and stares at you for a bit, getting just a little lost in your eyes, before resting his head on your stomach, "i can't do it…"
a soft laugh escapes your lips. "mmm, tell me when you're ready." you slipped his beanie off and ran your hands through his hair. it would be a lie if you said that you've never thought about doing this before. takuma's hair was just so shiny and silky looking and the way the strands framed his face, it was all so—
ino pulled away from his comfortable spot on your body, looking up at you with his big brown round eyes. breath hitched in your throat as you snapped your head to look elsewhere, feeling that if you stared at him for a second longer, you wouldn't be able to look away. instinctively, you removed your hand from his locks, already missing the feeling
"sorry, do you—"
you weren't even able to finish before he responded, like he knew exactly what you were thinking. takuma laced your hand with his and placed it right back atop his head, settling right back on your plush stomach
"nah, you can do whatever you want t'me."
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Note
If you don't take requests that's so fine please ignore me but if you do can I request a plus size reader/ Gambit. I'm just feeling a little insecure today and i feel like he would be a thick person enjoyer. Thank you, you're my inspiration
My Darling I'm so sorry you're feeling like that today. I hope this cheers you up.
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You stared at your reflection, frowning as you tugged at the hem of your shirt for the hundredth time. No matter how much you adjusted it, it still didn’t sit the way you wanted. The fabric clung to your stomach, revealing every curve and bump you didn’t want to see. Your jeans, which had once been your favorite pair, now felt too tight, pinching at your waist and making you feel like you were bursting out of them.
With a frustrated sigh, you yanked the shirt off entirely and tossed it onto the pile of rejected clothes on your bed. The mirror reflected your bare skin now, and you couldn’t help but notice the way your stomach rounded, the way your thighs touched, the fullness of your hips. All of it felt too much. Too much body, too much space, too much of everything.
You wrapped your arms around yourself, as if you could shrink away from your own reflection. It was one of those days where nothing felt right. The clothes that usually made you feel confident and comfortable now felt like costumes, ill-fitting and awkward. The little voice in the back of your mind, the one that whispered cruel things about your body, was louder than ever today.
"Why did I even agree to go out?" you thought, staring at the mess of clothes around you. Remy had asked you out earlier that day, suggesting a casual dinner in the city—just the two of you. He had looked so excited, flashing you that irresistible grin of his, and you had agreed without hesitation. But now, standing here in front of the mirror, you felt like it had been a mistake. You didn’t feel like yourself. You didn’t feel worthy.
Another sigh escaped your lips as you sat down heavily on the bed, burying your face in your hands. You loved being with Remy—he was charming, kind, and always made you laugh. But sometimes, it was hard to quiet the voice that told you he could do better. That he deserved someone who looked like the women he’d been with before—slender, toned, effortlessly beautiful.
A soft knock at your door pulled you from your thoughts.
"Chère, y' ready?" Remy’s voice was warm, but there was a hint of curiosity in it. "We gon' be late if y' don’t hurry."
You froze, your heart pounding in your chest. You didn’t want him to see you like this—not when you felt so exposed, so vulnerable. A part of you considered pretending to be sick, making up some excuse not to go. But you knew that wouldn’t fool him. Remy was too perceptive for that.
"I… I don’t think I’m going to go," you called out, your voice shaky despite your best efforts to sound casual. You hoped he’d drop it, that he’d understand without asking too many questions, "Maybe we can just do something here?"
There was a long pause, and for a moment you thought he might have walked away. But then the door creaked open, and Remy stepped inside. He shut the door behind him quietly, his eyes immediately scanning the room before settling on you. His brow furrowed slightly in concern.
"Now, what y' talkin' 'bout, chère?" he asked, his voice soft but firm. "Why y' don’t wanna go?"
You avoided his gaze, staring at the floor instead. "I’m just… not feeling up to it, that’s all."
Remy wasn’t a man easily fooled, and you could tell by the way he crossed the room to stand in front of you that he wasn’t buying your excuse. His eyes flickered to the pile of clothes on the bed, and then to the way you sat hunched over, arms crossed protectively over your body.
"Somethin's botherin' ya," he said quietly, crouching down so that he was on eye level with you. His red-on-black eyes, always so intense yet gentle, searched your face. "Talk t' me."
You swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that were threatening to spill over. You didn’t want to admit it. You didn’t want him to know how insecure you were feeling, how much you hated what you saw in the mirror today. But the weight of it all was too much to carry alone.
It had been building for a while, this gnawing pit of self-doubt that seemed to grow larger whenever you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You couldn’t remember exactly when it started—maybe it had been creeping in for years, little comments here and there, comparisons to other women who seemed to glide through life effortlessly, their bodies molded to perfection. Or maybe it was something deeper, an old voice that had always lingered in the back of your mind, whispering that you weren’t enough.
And today, that voice was louder than ever.
Your chest felt tight, your throat constricting as you tried to hold it together. The last thing you wanted was for Remy to see this side of you—the side that felt small, fragile, and vulnerable. He was always so confident, so sure of himself, and you didn’t want to burden him with your insecurities. You didn’t want to be the one who cracked under the pressure of something as trivial as your reflection in the mirror.
But gods, it didn’t feel trivial. Not today.
Every time you looked at yourself, all you could see were the things you wished you could change. The way your clothes hugged your body a little too tightly, the way your stomach wasn’t flat, the way your thighs touched. It was as if every part of you was magnified, exaggerated, and you couldn’t escape it. You had tried—tried to brush it off, tried to focus on the things that you liked about yourself. But those thoughts were drowned out by the louder ones, the ones that told you that you weren’t enough. That no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself otherwise, you would never quite measure up.
And the worst part? Standing in front of Remy, with his eyes on you, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he must see it too. He had to. How could he not? He was gorgeous—dangerously handsome—with that smirk that could weaken knees, and a body that looked like it was sculpted by the gods themselves. He had been with women who were stunning, women who looked like they belonged on magazine covers, and here you were, feeling like you didn’t even belong in the same room.
The thought made your chest ache, the tears stinging behind your eyes. You didn’t want to cry in front of him. You didn’t want to break down and tell him how ugly you felt, how unworthy you felt. The shame of it was too heavy, too raw. But it was getting harder to hold it in, harder to pretend that everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t.
For a moment, there was silence between you. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze, your eyes fixed on the floor as if it could somehow swallow you up and save you from having to confront the truth. You could feel the weight of his eyes on you, though—steady, patient, waiting. Remy wasn’t the type to push if you weren’t ready to talk, but you knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t let this go. Not when he could see how much it was hurting you.
And that was the thing—Remy always saw you. He saw you in ways that you sometimes wished he didn’t. He saw past the walls you tried to put up, past the bravado you sometimes used to hide your insecurities. He was always watching, always noticing the little things, the things you thought you were hiding so well. And that scared you, because it meant you couldn’t pretend with him. Not for long.
The silence stretched, thick and heavy in the air, and you felt the dam starting to crack. You didn’t want to say it. You didn’t want to admit how deeply the insecurities had burrowed into your heart, how much they weighed you down. But the burden of carrying it alone was suffocating, and Remy was standing there, waiting, offering you a lifeline without even saying a word.
"I…" Your voice broke, and you hated how small it sounded, how fragile. You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself, but the tears were dangerously close now, and you knew there was no holding them back. "I don’t feel good, Remy. With me."
It was such a simple sentence, but it felt like you had just ripped open your chest and laid bare everything you had been trying to hide. You could feel the tears gathering in the corners of your eyes now, and you quickly turned your face away, not wanting him to see. You hated how emotional you were getting over this, hated that you couldn’t just shake it off like you thought you should.
But you couldn’t. Not today.
You felt Remys hands on your thighs, his thumbs drawing small circles on the skin, the warmth of his presence wrapping around you like a protective shield. He didn’t say anything at first, and for a moment, you wondered if he even understood. Maybe he didn’t get it. Maybe he couldn’t. How could someone like him—so effortlessly confident, so sure of himself—understand what it felt like to look in the mirror and hate what you saw?
But then you felt his hand, warm and gentle, on your arm. His touch was so soft, so cautious, as if he knew exactly how fragile you were in that moment. He didn’t try to pull you into a hug or force you to look at him. He just crouched there, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin, grounding you with his presence.
"Chère," he said softly, his voice like a soothing balm. "I’m right here."
And that was all it took. The dam broke, and the tears spilled over, silent but heavy as they slid down your cheeks. You felt your shoulders shake with the effort of holding it all in, but it was too much. The weight of your insecurities, the fear of not being enough, the shame of feeling this way—it all came crashing down at once.
Remy didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. He just stayed close, his hand never leaving your arm, his presence a steady, unwavering comfort. He didn’t try to fix it or offer empty reassurances. He just let you be, let you feel what you needed to feel, and somehow, that made all the difference.
After a few moments, when the tears had slowed but the ache still lingered in your chest, you finally found your voice again, though it was shaky and weak.
"I just… I look in the mirror, and I don’t like what I see," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I don’t… I don’t feel like I’m enough."
Saying it out loud felt like admitting a terrible secret, something you had been holding onto for too long. But the moment the words left your lips, a strange sense of relief washed over you. It was out now. The truth was out, and you couldn’t take it back.
You half-expected Remy to brush it off, to tell you that you were being ridiculous, that you were beautiful and didn’t need to feel this way. But instead, he was quiet for a moment, his hand still resting gently on your arm. Then, he stepped in front of you, his gaze soft and unwavering as he looked into your tear-filled eyes.
His brow furrowed even more, and he reached out to gently take your hands in his, uncrossing your arms. His touch was warm and reassuring. "What y' mean by dat, chère?"
You hesitated, biting your lip. The words felt heavy in your mouth, but you forced them out anyway. "I don’t look like the other women you’ve been with. I’m… bigger. And today, I just… I don’t feel good about it. I don’t feel good about me."
There. You said it. The ugly truth that had been gnawing at you all day. You braced yourself for his reaction, for him to say something dismissive or to tell you that you were overthinking it. But instead, Remy’s grip on your hands tightened slightly, and he pulled you gently to your feet.
"Come here, chère," he murmured, his voice soft as he wrapped his arms around you. He held you close, his chin resting on top of your head as he stroked your back soothingly. "I been waitin' t' say this for a while, but y’ve never given me the chance."
You blinked, surprised by the tenderness in his tone. "What do you mean?"
He pulled back slightly, just enough to look down into your eyes. His expression was serious, more serious than you were used to seeing on his face. "I don’t care 'bout that. I don’t care 'bout what other people think. Y' beautiful, cherie, jus' the way y' are. And I need y' to believe that."
You opened your mouth to protest, to tell him that he didn’t understand, that it wasn’t that simple. But he silenced you by placing a finger against your lips, his eyes soft but unwavering.
"I know y' don’t always see it, but I do," he continued, his voice low and sincere. "Y' think I’m wit' y' because I want someone who looks like everybody else? Non, chère. I’m wit' y' because y' one of a kind. Ain’t nobody else like y', and that’s what I love 'bout y'."
Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time they weren’t from sadness. They were from the overwhelming warmth of his words, from the realization that he truly, deeply meant what he was saying. You had always known Remy was kind and compassionate, but hearing him say these things to you, looking at you like you were the most precious thing in the world, made your heart ache in the best way.
"But I don’t always feel beautiful," you admitted, your voice shaky. "I don’t always feel like I’m enough."
Remy’s expression softened even more, and he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing away the tears that had fallen. "Then let me remind y', every day if I have to. I’ll tell y' a thousand times if that’s what it takes. Because y' are enough. Always have been, always will be."
You let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch. His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, soothing the raw edges of your insecurities. It wasn’t as simple as snapping your fingers and feeling better, but with Remy’s arms around you, it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders.
"You’re too good to me," you whispered, resting your forehead against his chest.
"No, chère," he murmured against your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "I’m jus' tellin' y' the truth."
For a moment, you stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside your room fading away. Remy’s presence was so grounding, so steady, that you felt the storm inside you begin to calm. The insecurities were still there, lingering in the background, but they didn’t feel as loud anymore. Not with him here, reminding you that you were more than enough.
After a while, Remy pulled back just enough to look down at you again, his signature roguish grin returning to his face. "Now, how 'bout we go out, eh? I promise y' gon' have a good time. An' if not, we can come right back home, no questions asked."
You managed a small smile, the warmth of his words still lingering in your chest. "Okay," you said quietly. "Let’s go."
Remy’s grin widened, victorious but gentle. "That’s my girl." He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before stepping back and grabbing his coat from the chair. "An' for the record, chère, y' look damn good."
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t fight the smile that tugged at your lips. "You’re unbelievable."
"Maybe," he winked, shrugging on his coat with a flourish.
As you followed him out the door, hand in hand, you couldn’t shake the warmth that spread through your chest. The insecurities were still there, lingering at the edges of your mind, but they didn’t feel as overwhelming anymore. Not with Remy by your side, reminding you that you didn’t have to be anyone else. You were enough, just as you were—and that was more than enough for him.
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calirph · 3 days
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𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒.
key words were relationship, tension, denial and romance, forbidden. there are 69 mid flirtacious and then 69 explicit prompts. you can change names and pronouns as you see fit.
69 Flirtatious to Explicit Dialogue Prompts:
"You know, I've always been drawn to people who are dangerous."
"You keep looking at me like that, and I might start thinking you're interested."
"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were flirting with me."
"Your lips look... distracting."
"Do you really want me to leave, or are you just saying that?"
"How close do I have to get before you admit you want me here?"
"Careful, if you keep touching me like that, I might forget we're just talking."
"It's hard to focus when you're sitting so close."
"I don't bite... unless you ask nicely."
"You think I didn't notice the way you've been staring all night?"
"I wonder what you'd do if I kissed you right now."
"There's something about the way you say my name..."
"I bet you'd look even better out of that outfit."
"Don't you think it's a bit hot in here? Or is that just you?"
"I love the way your skin feels against mine."
"If you want me to stop, all you have to do is say so."
"You're making it very hard to behave."
"How much longer are we going to pretend there's nothing here?"
"I can feel your heart racing. You're not as calm as you're pretending to be."
"You think you're the only one who can't stop thinking about this?"
"You keep teasing, but we both know where this is going."
"Is this really what you want? Because once I start, I won't be able to stop."
"I love the way you blush when I get close."
"Do you always flirt with danger, or is this just for me?"
"There's something I want to do, but I'm not sure you're ready for it."
"You can try to resist me, but we both know how this ends."
"Your body tells me everything your words don't."
"I dare you to come just a little bit closer."
"You're tempting me in ways you don't even realize."
"What if I told you I’ve been thinking about you all day?"
"Let me show you just how good this could be."
"I've been waiting all night to get you alone."
"The way you're looking at me... it's almost like you're daring me."
"You don't have to say anything, but your body is speaking for you."
"You know where this is headed, right?"
"I’ve been patient, but I’m not sure how much longer I can wait."
"Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you."
"What if I kissed you right here? Would you stop me?"
"I can't stop thinking about the way you'd feel under me."
"You want me, don’t you? I can see it in your eyes."
"If you're going to tease me, at least be ready for the consequences."
"Every time you touch me, it’s like you’re daring me to lose control."
"It’s not fair the way you make me feel when you’re this close."
"I want to hear you say you want me."
"Don’t be shy. You can tell me what you’ve been thinking."
"You know, I love the way you taste."
"Your skin is so soft… I can’t wait to explore more."
"I can feel how much you want this."
"What if I told you I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time?"
"Are you going to keep teasing me, or are you finally going to do something about it?"
"The way you tremble when I touch you... I could get used to that."
"We shouldn’t... but it’s the only thing I can think about."
"You're playing with fire, and we both know how this ends."
"I want to hear you moan my name."
"Your lips are driving me crazy... I can’t take it anymore."
"If you keep this up, I'm going to have to take matters into my own hands."
"I can’t stop imagining the way you'd feel pressed against me."
"Tell me you want this as much as I do."
"I love the way your breath hitches when I get closer."
"We both know this is inevitable, don’t we?"
"I’ve been thinking about you all night. It’s time to make those thoughts a reality."
"You're making it very hard to resist you."
"Do you like the way I make you feel?"
"All I can think about is what comes next."
"I want to feel every inch of you."
"You don’t have to say a word. Just show me how much you want this."
"I love the way your body reacts when I touch you."
"I’ve been patient long enough. Now it’s my turn."
"If you’re ready, I’ll give you everything you’ve been waiting for."
50 Actions from Flirtatious to Explicit:
Brushing their hand lightly against the other's as they talk.
Gently placing a hand on their lower back, guiding them through a crowded room.
Leaning in close enough to whisper, but not touching.
Tracing the outline of their lips with a fingertip.
Lightly tugging on their shirt, pulling them closer.
Running fingers through their hair, grazing the scalp just enough to leave them breathless.
Pressing a knee against theirs under the table, keeping eye contact.
Letting a hand linger on their shoulder just a second too long.
Grazing lips against the curve of their ear, barely touching.
Running a hand up their arm, tracing the muscles.
Slipping fingers under their collar, teasing the edge of their neckline.
Gently trailing fingertips down their spine.
Squeezing their hand just a little tighter while walking.
Holding their gaze, slowly licking their lips.
Lightly biting their lip after a kiss, pulling back with a smirk.
Tucking a strand of their hair behind their ear, letting fingers brush the skin.
Pinning them against a wall, hands braced on either side.
Pressing their lips softly to the back of their hand.
Gripping their waist, pulling them into an embrace that lingers just a bit too long.
Brushing their lips along the side of their neck, testing their reaction.
Grazing a thumb over their pulse point.
Tugging at their belt, teasing without going further.
Running hands over their chest, tracing patterns through their clothes.
Slowly sliding a hand down their arm, interlacing fingers.
Leaning in, breath hot against their lips before pulling away.
Letting fingertips dance along their jawline.
Sinking teeth lightly into their shoulder, marking them gently.
Running a hand along the curve of their hip, squeezing slightly.
Sliding a hand up the inside of their thigh, stopping just short of their goal.
Whispering close to their ear while caressing the nape of their neck.
Lightly nipping at their earlobe before kissing a path down their neck.
Letting hands roam over their body, exploring curves and planes.
Pressing a hand flat against their chest, feeling their heartbeat speed up.
Hooking fingers into the waistband of their pants, pulling them closer.
Tucking a thumb under their chin, lifting their face for a kiss.
Pulling them into a heated kiss, hands gripping their hair.
Slipping hands beneath their shirt, caressing their bare skin.
Sliding a hand between their thighs, applying gentle pressure.
Tugging them closer by the waistband, teasing with a slow grind.
Nuzzling against their neck, inhaling their scent before lightly biting.
Guiding their hands to roam, showing them where they can touch.
Tracing patterns on their skin with lips and teeth, leaving a trail of heat.
Grabbing their hips and pulling them flush against their body.
Letting fingers slide under their clothes, exploring sensitive spots.
Wrapping arms around them, hands pressing into their back as they kiss.
Grazing a hand over their thigh, applying slow, deliberate pressure.
Tugging at their shirt, lips grazing their collarbone.
Teasing them with soft kisses down their chest, going lower.
Gently pushing them back onto the bed, lips following their descent.
Wrapping a leg around theirs, pulling them closer for an even deeper kiss.
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kanrix · 1 day
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AGE REGRESSION CLAY HEADCANON TIME OOO BOY.. I may or may not have some yapping to do about this..
First off, I saw the 2 tags specifically on the answer you gave that caught my attention. I do feel Clay definitely bites his nails or his thumb.. With age regression (spoken from someone who has an issue with this) I definitely think he does suck his thumb or gnaw at it a little if he's overstimulated in a way.. specifically in fetal position. I may just be saying this out of solely what I do but.. yeah.
The whole urine thing as well. I think like the bed wetting definitely has something to do with age regression and bladder issues due to overuse of alcohol, being a responsive thing that just kind of happens reflexively.. most likely with a nightmare or something.
Also think he does things subconsciously while he's asleep like for one, clinging onto his pillow as well as tossing and turning. I think he gets restless while asleep, and maybe that's why he ends up responding that way. (bed wetting, being restless, etc.)
There's another thing that could fall into the restless category but I may return to that sometime after this ask.
I don't really want to get into the egg thing because. first off since its uncomfortable a bit for me to talk about myself and. also since Sinvilles could do a better analyzation post about it than anyone, i fear.
with clays hair curl I have a few random things with that. that could very likely be tagged on with this in a way maybe. I think he may have had a habit of twirling that thing a bit..
I think he had issues at school with bullying and constantly tried to get attention and make himself the rage bait.. clearly it ends up working. He'd go home bloodied a lot to Aurther and he'd brush it off, not care, almost scold him for it, but then stopping himself, pretend not to notice, or just not notice entirely.
which made clays sacrifice rant happen, specifically because he wanted that attention again and wasn't able to get. which maybe could be why he kept his distance from Orel, just because of how his father was absent for a while after giving clay old gunny. and he didn't want to look at Orel because he felt mad at Orel and himself a little because he wasn't 'Man' enough and Clay himself couldn't make him something he saw himself in. so it made him feel the need to be distant with something he didn't feel connected to, felt more like Blobertas child than his own.
"weak, and passive. and ultimately broken by the ones who were made the fittest!! and that through your weaknesses you built up a poison.. that poisoned others around you.. that you loved. and the only true justice was to let those dominant jackals feed on you.. survive of you."
I truly believe he was age regressing here. back to when he would try so desperately to get his fathers attention that he craved and somehow failed no matter what he did. and he let everyone pick on him and make himself stand out specifically because it would make him feel at least some sort of affection other than being ignored. negative attention is still attention nonetheless right?
There's still more too it than that I just need more time to get my thoughts collected..
extra little side note ::
with clays hair curl I have a few random things with that age regression that could very likely be tagged on with this in a way maybe. I think he may have had a habit of twirling that thing a bit..
Clearly the more reasoned option being he snipped off a chunk of his hair when he was younger so it just never grew out enough and it just kinda just wouldn't stay back.. either that or he does his hair every morning and tries to make his hair perfect every morning cuz he's kind of a freak when it comes to that I think..
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