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#this game is eating my brain send help
strawberrywithlegs · 1 year
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Recently I’ve been thinking about how in hsr, Clara pretty clearly views the trailblazer as an older sibling figure, and that concept is adorable and also hilarious if you think about it too much.
Like, I know Clara is a very smart kid, but imagine Clara seeing the trailblazer digging through trash and just generally being a menace to society and Clara is like, "Wow! Maybe I should do those things!"
And now Natasha may have to hold an intervention because she walked outside her clinic and saw tiny little ol’ Clara inside a knocked over trash scavenging around. I also imagine Svarog is concerned but Clara just seems so happy he’s not sure if he can stop her. Robot dad is confused.
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perigelion · 1 year
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ough. ow. ow.
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pizzapizzadickz · 2 years
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I rly want to like. Go sit down and eat and read. But I cannot. Bc I want to stay under my weighted blankets and these are the ones for my bed. So I cannot move them. So I'm not leaving my bed.
#if i leave my bed imma die#i could move n chill infront of the tv and play games#diary#personal#trust me trying to explain my brain process to anyone is litteral hell tbh.#ik the phrase is thought process but i dont wanna go and fix that.#idk im just really. tired and overstimulated i think#so that mean i just cant. idk. like. ik if i do too much today itll wind up with me turninh into an utter wreak.#so like. ill try to prevent that but idk man. i may have a brain n shit but i cant argue with it all that well lmao#i have to keep being like: okay. how about we do this. how about we eat this. etc.#and my brain just be like: no! cannot! its not the exact thing i want. that i also cannot remember/we dont have#seriously send help. bc at this rate i think its turning into a type day.#ugh. i just wanna stay in the dark. with my headphones. n under weighted blankets.#but seriously though. im like and my brain says no bc too much work#and i wanna read. but im not in the perfect mood for what i wanna read and theres nothing short to transition with#I HAVE SO MANY RULES AND ROUTINES N SHIT AND IT CAUSES ENDLESS PROBLEMS NOW BC I JUST DONT DO SHIT NOW#WHY. SERIOUSLY. WHY. JUST. LET. ME. DO. THE. THING.#well. ill probably eat when i figure out the pefect thing to eat. and if its not there thatll probably end me today yknow?#seriously if 1 thing goes wrong today ill probably have a meltdown#LET ME REPHRASE THAT. i am probably one step away from a meltdown as is so like. i am utterly incapable of anything today#seriously. usually i just do nothing on these days. but i need to take care of the bunny later. so wish me luck ig#also. im stimming A LOT lately. and thats pretty much my main indicator that im getting to like a breaking point lmao#haaah. well oh well. wish me luck i suppose.
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pupkashi · 7 months
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satoru loves yapping [to you]
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satoru was always chatty, shoko could definitely attest to that statement, subjected to too many conversations she definitely did not care about.
“isn’t it hotter than usual? i swear last year it was colder around this time of year-” he began, continuing to talk as shoko tried to focus instead on healing an injured itadori in front of her.
it seemed that his chatty characteristic only amplified when you were around, his eyes would visibly brighten, practically gleaming when you appeared in his eyesight.
“sweetheart! how are you? staying cold in this heat?” you can help but smile at him, walking straight into his already outstretched arms and squeezing his waist a bit, pressing a soft peck to his cheek before pulling away.
“heat? it feels so good out today!” you sigh happily, waving yellow to shoko and itadori, “it is hotter than last year though I’ll tell you that,” satoru grins at your words, turning to shoko with a flint in his eyes before turning back to you.
“that’s what I said! global warming is getting too severe-” the two of you walking out hand in hand, the taller man still talking as you listened intently.
satoru never felt the need to be quiet around you, always finding things to talk about no matter the task or the hour.
“and so you would think that since they were doing so bad they would think of making changes right?” you nod along, humming so he knows you’re listening, “but no! they keep going with same stupid strategy and it’s so frustrating as a fan to see, i just want him to achieve his dreams,” he sighs sadly.
“can you pass the salt?” you ask, taking it from his much larger hand, thanking him before speaking up again, “why does he keep resigning if they always treat him so poorly?” you ask, satoru smiles, heart warming at the fact that you really do pay attention to him.
“he’s always wanted to win with Ferrari- let me take you back to the beginning” he begins, giving you a summary of charles leclerc’s life as you finish cooking dinner.
you could always tell when he got a bit insecure of how talkative he was, but you’d always smile at him, urging him to go on. “and then what? why’d you stop talking?” you’d say, making him smile widely before quietly starting again.
“I’m listening, angel boy,” you mumble in between dreams, listening to him talk about how orange juice isn’t the same as it was when he was growing up and how the new game he downloaded was more complicated than it seems.
it could be nearing 2 in the morning but you wouldn’t mind, satoru would be discussing how and why wombats have cube shaped poops and how koalas eat eucalyptus and pandas have half a brain cell they don’t bother to use.
“it has no real nutritional value and that’s why they have to eat so much of it,” he mumbles, eyes drooping as he cuddles closer to you.
“aren’t they made to digest meat?” you whisper, head tucked into the crook of his neck, your breath running a chill down his spine.
“think so, dunno” he mumbles back, breathing evening out before he’s fully asleep.
your eyes open slowly as you crane your neck, his pink lips slightly parted as he takes soft breaths, snowy hair pointing every which way.
you can’t help but smile at your lover.
“goodnight pretty boy” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, “my little yapper,” you chuckle to yourself, already looking forward to what he’d talk about tomorrow.
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masterlist
a/n: hi friends ! just a quick little something i put together bc i miss satoru so bad lately </3 he’s def a yapper and i want to hear him talk all day and night
taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi
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lyrinsluv · 24 days
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4:17pm
timeskip! suna x [implied fem] reader
☆゚.*・。゚
wordcount: 929! :D 
author's note - sorry for my unannouced hiatus! i'll try to be back up and posting soon☆
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you blink twice as your boyfriend calls for your name from the bathroom, causing your attention to shift from the television screen to his voice.
“babe, could you get my phone for me?” he asked from the bathroom. you sighed to yourself. you had reminded him over and over again to take his phone with him just because this wouldn't happen. you hear the shower running, knowing he would take one soon anyway. he did just come back from a strenuous practice, hence why you weren't so surprised. but a notification popped up at 4:17. 
‘your storage is almost full, would you like to buy more?’
huh, you knew he took pictures to have memories of your dates or save his sister's funny reels that she would send him. you didn't mind it, but really? rintarou suna needed more storage? the two of you were at that point in your relationship where privacy was still there, but it was okay if it was crossed. so you open the notification, punching in his passcode as you yell back, a little “coming!” even if the walk from the living room to the bathroom was less than thirty seconds. 
you raise an eyebrow at how organized everything was. the folders, all of them having their little names and.. one titled ‘pretty girl.’ 
huh?
he only called you that in the heat of the moment, the hushed whispers you two would shamelessly share in your bedroom, the soft pants and groans escaping his lips as he called you his pretty girl. you felt a hint of bashfulness fogging up your brain. 
i mean, yeah.. you always did tell him to record you so he wouldn't get too bored during his away games on the weekend, or whenever the volleyball season started up. the part that shocked you the most was how perfectly the folder was placed, so intricately hidden and naughty, all for himself. he hid the most vile, back-arching videos of you in between some sweet innocent pictures of you eating food or him making fun of you.  
“baby?” he yelled out. you snapped out of your daze, rushing to the bathroom. the one thing you told yourself to do was swipe out of the app, but you didn’t. once he saw it open: it was a secret he kept for himself, liking the little dirty lie they kept.
“sorry, rin.. the show was getting good.” you say as you hand him his phone. he raises his eyebrows slightly, looking at you.
“mm? really? m’gonna watch with you after.” he said in his usual voice as he placed a calm kiss on your forehead. 
“mkayyy,” you dragged out. you close the door behind him so he could hurry up. he looks down at his phone, his hand freezing as he saw the scene open in front of him. there was a smile resting on his lips as he saw looked down on his oh so dirty videos of you. huh, now he has blackmail to ask you for more. it was simple, the little video of you practically posing for the flashes of the camera while you showed your boyfriend just how much you missed him wasn’t enough. 
and he did just that – use you going through his phone as an excuse to get more out of you.
there he was, standing outside of the bathroom with a towel lazily hanging around his hips, shamelessly showing his toned v-line. you looked up at him as you paused your show, a soft smile on your lips. 
“rin! the girl finally remem–” you blink as you get cut off from him, a hint of confusion displayed on your face.
“pretty girl, come help me dry my hair.” he said, another towel hanging around his neck as he gestured for you to come close to him. you sighed to yourself as you stood up, grabbing the towel from his neck.
“..you cut me off, rin..” you mumble quietly as you intricately ruffle his hair with the white towel. he noticed you didn’t react to the pet name, making him want to say it again.
“m’sorry, pretty, tell me ‘bout the show,” he said gently. you looked into his eyes. ugh, you hated that tone so much because it made your stomach twist and turn like how it did on your first date together. 
“it's okay, rinnie..” you say as you press a kiss on his nose. 
“the girl finally remembered her boyfriend. and she broke her love triangle by going back to him.” you notice he wasn’t paying attention, a huff escaping your lips. 
“mm, sorry, baby. i’m listening. i just got a thing from my photos.” and at that, you shut up. why? simply put, the app never sent notifications unless anyone was on it for a minute or more. 
“oh.. um, why?” you ask sheepishly as you feel his hand rest on your hip in a boring manner, but his fingertips digging into your shirt say more. 
“..dunno. need to get more storage. you wouldn’t have an idea why, pretty?” he asked in a teasing tone. now, you realized you messed up. why? because when your boyfriend got like this, he made no haste to practically bully you into submission. so you canceled his whole blackmailing scheme and fessed up. 
“don't, rintarou. don't say what you're going to say,” you mumble in a timid-like manner. a sly, coy smile lays on his lips. 
“then let’s get to filming, my pretty girl.” 
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yuri-is-online · 1 year
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Plead the Fifth (Riddle, Floyd, Azul, Jack, Lilia, and Ace x Yuu)
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Summer vacation is all fun and games until someone asks you to be honest with yourself. Unfortunately for Yuu, they got dragged to the beach by some "friends" and are getting a big old dose of heat stroke, just not from a source they want to confess to outside of a court.
notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, no spoilers for Lost in the Book with Stitch this is just about their summer outfits. Vague tsundere vibes from Yuu, Yuu is implied to be physically strong, Floyd knows he's hot and has a bone to pick from Portfest, also he's a red flag have I mentioned that before? Azul is only mildly possessive don't worry about it ♡. Mild suggestiveness all around, but I don't think it's too much. Feel free to check out my more serious work on my masterlist.
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Riddle
"Seriously!" Riddle's cheeks are puffed in annoyance, and you have an uncomfortably close view. Not that you don't like looking at Riddle, quite the opposite, it's just hard to look at him... properly when he's fussing over your injured hand. "You would think that such a highly recommended resort would have better quality glasses." You don't know if you should be relieved or insulted Riddle believes it's cheap glass and not your raw strength responsible for the glass shards stuck in your hand. You flex it uncertainly, and he stares you into stillness. It's hard to focus with him so close, hard to breathe even. How Riddle hasn't noticed how beautiful he is normally is beyond you, but with how carefree he's been, staring out at the ocean and happily bringing you to see every unique shell he can identify, there is no way he can't at least sense how you look at him. It's just too much, and you find yourself pulling away worried he will find you disgusting.
But that's not what Riddle sees. He sees someone he cares for refusing to let him help. He certainly does not see someone who is nervously infatuated with him attempting to soothe their heart rate, otherwise he wouldn't have the nerve to continue being strict.
"Just where do you think you're going?" If he could collar you, he would, but instead he has to satisfy himself with yanking your shirt to keep you from struggling away. "Don't move, that's a direct order, prefect." You wheeze and Riddle decides to politely ignore your struggles, instead focusing on the weight of your hand in his with a smug sense of satisfaction. He is useful to you isn't he? So let him monopolize your attention for just a little longer.
Floyd
"Oooh Little Shrimpy~" You want to die. You probably are going to, Floyd has never been so close to your face without pinning your back to a wall, you would be stupid not to see it as a threat to squeeze. "You better not be thinkin' about callin' me adorable that'd really piss me off." You swallow. Or at least try to, you are horribly painfully aware that he has chosen to pick this fight just off the boardwalk meaning everyone can see your little spat and how little you have been looking at his eyes. Floyd can too, it's been sending a vaguely exciting shudder up and down his spine all day. He knows every dip and curve along his chest your eyes have followed, every lingering stare at his flexing shoulders, it's like you want to eat him for a change. He found that electrifying.
Or at least he had, but this little dance was starting to get boring.
What sort of predator never makes a move after setting the mood? He had tried telling himself he should be patient, shrimps aren't predators. Maybe Yuu needed extra time to set up their attack, he could work with that, maybe leave a few openings. But he was starting to run out of buttons to undo on his shirt and he really didn't want to ditch the sunglasses or beads just yet. He had been such a good patient eel, so why weren't you jumping on him already?
"I don't think-" You force yourself to look up at Floyd's eyes instead of his chest and your brain immediately fries. "I mean that isn't to say-" He glares at you and you try to wrack your brain for what compliment he could possibly want out of you. There is no way Floyd Leech is going to these lengths to try and get you to call him cool.
"Y'know, it's really rude to not answer your seniors shrimpy." Floyd draws himself up to his full height, with an oddly solemn look. "You're usually such a well-behaved little shrimp, is somethin wrong? You know if somethings wrong you had probably better tell me or Azul's gonna have to call the Headmage."
"It's because you're too hot ok! I cant focus on what you're saying because I keep looking at your fucking chest! Happ-" You can't get your compliment out before he's squeezed you into his chest and started shaking you around like a rag doll, squealing something about how hunting isn't that hard and he knew you could do it.
There's no way you were ever the one on the prowl here.
Azul
This isn't a date. Nothing about this is meant to be romantic, you are having a "purely platonic at best but lets be real this is probably for business" drink with Azul at the tacky (his words not yours) poolside bar. "I wouldn't have thought about putting a water park next to a beach." He murmers to himself, carefully photographing every angle of his float before sitting down to drink it. "It just sounds redundant." You shrug, idly stirring your own drink.
"You'd be surprised. Some humans really don't like swimming in the ocean." You're the one saying it, so he has no real choice to belive it but it's hard to wrap his head around.
"How is one of these parks safer? They aren't nearly as clean." He thinks that if he ran a place like this, that would be the biggest problem, humans are messy creatures already, but the level of mess he has just casually observed while sitting here with you really makes him wonder just what the actual appeal of this place is. Well, at least just what the appeal was to paying customers, he knew why he wanted to bring you here. Usually, when Azul turns to look at you, you immediately look away from him. But as long as you've been on this little vacation, no matter how many times he's looked your gaze has remained exactly where it should be. He's puffing with pride, looking you over wondering exactly what angle he can press to get you to say what it is you actually are thinking and not whatever cheap jab you have prepared to protect yourself.
You remain none the wiser, stuck staring at Azul and his shirt simultaneously drowning in how attractive you find him and how much it reminds you of a man in his mid fifties who relies on his bank account to make up for his miserable personality.
"See something you like, prefect?" Azul is unbelievably happy, you are tempted to say smug but then he sort of always does. It's the glasses you think as you bite on your straw and hope he doesn't notice how hard it is for you to maintain eye contact. But he does, oh he does, taking advantage of your flustered state to move closer to your side.
"You- you..." Azul is stupidly attractive he has to know that, but you also know he is desperately insecure and don't want to send him into a spiral with your stupid tongue. "You look like a middle-aged dad on his third divorce on vacation trying to doge the tax man." You mutter, trying really hard to sound threatening. It doesn't work, Azul just gives his best put upon sigh as he clucks his tongue in disappointment.
To your great surprise, he moves his hand to tilt your head to look him directly in his bright blue eyes, a similar smile to the one he has while trying to sell you on something directly kicking your heart rate up. He is trying to sell you on himself, you realize...
"How insulting, my dear. You should know better than anyone that no one gets out of a contract with me so easily they'd be able to do it three times." ... and he doesn't intend to take no for an answer. Not that it was the answer you intended to give him in the first place, and oh how happy he is to know that.
Jack
"Honestly! You would think you'd know to be more careful by now." You might as well be talking to a brick wall, Jack's certainly solid enough to pass for one. He still seems to be under the impression that he's fine despite how much of his weight you are supporting. You think he is trying to talk, but the heat has him only babbling nonsense. Reluctantly, he lets you guide him over to a shady patch of trees close to a water fountain before he is well and truly gone.
"This is nothing. I handled the Savana I can take a stupid beach." He mutters as if he his extremely visible chest isn't heaving or rolling with droplets of sweat that other, lesser people have been watching drip from his abs with extreme disrespect.
Not you, though! No, your eyes have been firmly on the spicket on the fountain, determined to soak one of the smaller towels you brought and gently press it to Jack's forehead. Despite his insistence that he's fine, he leans desperately into your cooling touch, tension leaving his shoulders in one deep breath.
Just as all strength leaves yours as he decides to collapse into your lap.
"J-Jack!" You don't know what you want to ask next. Your back is pinned to one of the trees, Jack's head is resting firmly in your lap, but the arm that had been around your shoulder has decided to move around your waist. He growls (growls!) when you gently try to push him off you to try and get him set up in a more comfortable position. "Bad dog." It's all you can think to say and he doesn't seem fazed, if anything you swear he starts holding you closer. There is no way this could get any more embarrassing.
"Mommy, what is that guy doing to his partner? It looks like he's trying to eat them." Never mind yes it could. You make awkward eye contact with a very young mother as you try to silently plead with her that "no, this isn't what it looks like, I swear" as you desperately try to revive Jack with the damp cloth. The young woman looks at you then to her child, clearly trying to hold back her laughter and not doing it very well. She manages to usher him off before he can ask any more pointed questions and you glare down at Jack.
"You're setting such a bad example." You mutter and he lets go of your waist only to cross his arms over his chest and start to snore. Oh he is going to be so embarrassed when he wakes up, assuming he believes half of what you'll have to say.
Lilia
Love and Lilia are old strangers. He knows he can feel it, no matter what ancient denials he might have made, but he finds no matter how long he lives he is no better at recognizing it, no better at knowing what to do with it. There's something ironic about how much of an outlier this chance meeting between you both that makes him feel something akin to apathy. He doesn't think that's quite the right word, but he struggles to better find an explanation for the little knots it ties itself in sometimes.
So Lilia may not know just what this emotion is no, but he knows he likes the way it looks on you.
"Well, prefect? It's rude to stare you know." He says that as if he is not trying to make you, winking just over his sunglasses and striking a pose Cater had shown him on magicam in just a silly enough way that he can pass it off as one of his usual jokes. Your usual denial flutters up on your face, but your heart seems to be beating your brain to your tongue today.
"You look very cute, Lilia." That strange pit is filling with nervous flutters again, but his brain beats his soul to his mouth.
"That's good! I was worried I'd have to spend this vacation in the shadows out of shame." He says, fully aware that you are both currently sat in the shade of a particularly large umbrella precisely because he can't be out in the sun for long, even if that's the purpose of a beach vacation. Speaking of which... "Why don't you go join the others out on the beach, prefect? You helped me with my little errand, you deserve to take a break." He says it much more gently than he'd intended, if it wasn't pointless, he'd keep you here and needle you for more cute reactions. Maybe he would ask you to try on his shirt and demand yours as payment. But that's not fair, that's not life, this connection is destined to be as fleeting as it is precious. The way disappointment and confusion mingle in your eyes tells him you know that too, on some level.
"Calling you cute isn't a chore, but sure, I guess." You tell him something about calling for you if he decides to go somewhere else, and he thinks he promises you only if you do the same, but he doesn't know. He's too focused on the way the sun takes you into it's embrace, taunting everyone but certainly him specifically with just how much you look like you belong out there in the daylight.
But the moon can still observe can't it? In a way that's all he knows how to do.
Ace
You really hate how low your standards are. Who the hell gets all jittery and flustered over a guy in a boater hat? You apparently, Ace has the worst dad on vacation fit you have ever seen, assuming you are politely ignoring Azul. Something that's unfortunately easy for you to do and has led to you paying just that much more attention to Ace.
Or at least that's what you've been trying to tell him while pointedly staring out at the shore. You wish he was too lazy to put things together, but as usual, when there is an inch to tease you over, Ace Trappola will take a mile.
"Admit it, you think I'm hot." He sounds so infuriatingly smug. It makes you want to kiss him but only to shut him up! Not because you like him!
"The only thing hot about you is how full you are of hot air! Seriously, what's up with that bunch of fruit on your shoulder? Why would I find that attractive?" You know it only sounds like you are asking yourself, begging more like, because you really do think he's attractive. It's written all over your face, you might as well scream it with just how flustered you become when finally you decide to look back at him.
"It's ok to admit. It might be self-centered to say, but I really am a catch. Really prefect how did you get so lucky?" Oh he is never going to let you live this down.
"Please, you look like a dead beat dad on his third divorce!" Your voice is unnaturally high, and Ace just laughs off your insult. "Who would be attracted to you!"
"You, duh." He takes your hand and pulls you back towards the beach. "Besides, if I convinced you to marry me twice, I can do it a third time." He winks at you over his shoulder and you stop dead in your tracks, so overwhelmed with annoyed affection and embarrassment it's all you can do to grasp for a come back.
"Was it Duece."
"What?" Ace is momentarily thrown, extremely confused by what he perceives as a change of subject.
"You said you could convince me to marry you a third time, but you're on your third divorce. So when did you leave me for Deuce ?"
"Wait I didn't- you know that's not what I meant!" And yes, technically, you do know that's not what he meant, but you refuse to be the only one embarrassed here. You hope he chokes.
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thetriumphantpanda · 1 year
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two is better than one | joel & tommy miller
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Summary | Frustrated that whatever you're trying to do still isn't working, you decide to give it one more try with Joel before cooling off for a while. Tommy is back to keep an eye on the both of you this time, but what happens when he starts to feel a little left out, watching his brother bring his girl over the edge more times than he cares to count?
Warnings | I swear I always start this the same way so here we go: Tommy getting cucked but also getting involved this time 👀, Joel being a fucking menace, dirty talk, oral sex (F&M receiving), face sitting, breeding kink, unprotected PiV sex, talk of infertility, no use of Y/N
Word Count | 3.8k
Authors Note | Whew. When I tell you this little threesome has been rotting my brain, I'm not lying. This is the only thing I can focus on, hence them being updated so fast! I just wanted to say a huge thank you to you all for the continued love you're giving this series - it honestly blows my mind every time that it's something you guys enjoy, that my writing reaches so many people and that they lap that shit up. I'm so grateful to everyone who has taken the time to comment, send me asks, reblogs and those who have slid into my DMs with all the love. I see you, I hear you, and I love you all - thank you. I hope you enjoy this next part just as much as the rest - it's a doozy. You know the drill, if you did like it, please consider reblogging, commenting or sending the love to my ask box, it's what keeps me going. And if you'd like to leave me a tip (of course no pressure!), then here's my Ko-Fi.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
Another month and another fucking negative pregnancy test. You knew it was irrational, but you were starting to think that maybe you were also part of the problem now. You’d been doing everything right, following all the advice in the books you’d bought almost a year ago when Tommy and you had first started trying for a baby. You’d been exercising, eating as healthily as possible, tried to keep yourself a stress-free as possible. You’d been keeping a close eye on your cycle and still, nothing to show for it. 
When you clambered down the stairs, test in hand and flung it in Tommy’s direction, he already knew. He could see the heavy set of your shoulders, the quiet sniffling of you trying to hide the fact you were crying. Tommy had settled you on the couch, covered you in a blanket and made you some tea. Then he’d made your favourite meal for dinner, even driven to the store and picked up Diet Coke, emptied a can into a glass filled with ice and lime juice like you loved, but none of it really helped to soothe how upset you were. 
The TV was on low, and he had your head in his lap, slowly stroking the strands of your hair as you tried to calm yourself down. Remind yourself that even the most fertile of couples needed to try for months sometimes before they had their first baby. It was stupid to think you’d be any different. 
“You’re thinkin’ way too loud, sugar.” Tommy muses, letting his hand run up and down your arm instead. 
“Sorry,” You mumble, “Just thought it would be easier.” 
“I know,” He coos, “We can take a break for a while, if you want.” 
You turn so you’re led on your back, looking right up at him, “I just want a baby.” You feel a tear slip down your cheek to pool near your ear. 
Tommy uses his thumb to brush away the tears that have started to fall, bobbing his leg up and down gently to try and soothe you, “It’s still fresh,” He speaks softly, “Let’s give it a couple of days and see what you want to do, okay?” 
You nod in agreement, feeling the beginnings of a headache pooling behind your eyes. You push yourself up into a sitting position and turn around to press a soft kiss to his lips, “I’m gonna go to bed,” You announce, “Headache.” 
He lets you go, it’s still early and you know there’s the game highlights he wanted to watch. In bed, you can do nothing but toss and turn for a few hours. Every time you’d try to close your eyes, all you could see was vision of you and Joel, in all the different positions he’d put you in so far, and all for what? When the bedside clock hit 10:30, you head out to use the bathroom. As you near the door at the top of the stairs you can hear Tommy talking to someone, through the phone because his is the only voice you can hear. 
“I know, brother, she’s just really beat up about it,” You hear him say, “I don’t know how to make it better.” 
You lean against the closed bathroom door, wondering if perhaps you should leave Tommy to talk to Joel. There’s a pause where you can hear Tommy humming along to whatever Joel is saying on the other end of the phone. 
“I dunno man,” Tommy sighs, “You managed to knock Sarah’s mom up on a one-night stand, guess I thought it would be easier for you.” 
There’s another pause, then he’s speaking again. 
“No Joel, all of her tests came back perfect,” Another sigh, “I was always the problem.”
You’re about to push down the handle to go to the bathroom when Tommy speaks again, “I don’t know, maybe we should just cool it for a while, we’re all gonna work ourselves up otherwise.” 
You decide you don’t really want to hear the rest of the conversation. You sit on the toilet and let your face drop to your hands in frustration. Why couldn’t you just be normal? Why couldn’t you have been a nice, normal couple, having a baby in the most natural way possible? Why did this have to come along and fucking complicate everything? And why did Joel have to be so fucking good to you every time? 
You wash your hands under the tap, water as scalding as it could go, just in order to feel something that wasn’t frustration before you head to bed. There’s no longer the sound of voices as you pad back across the hall and get back into bed, shutting off the lights and curling onto one side, knees as close to your chest as you can manage to get them. It’s not long before you can hear Tommy shuffling around upstairs. He pushes open the bedroom door quietly, obviously thinking you’re already asleep. You can hear him undressing before he's slipping onto his side of the bed, pulling your body close to his under the covers as he spoons you. 
You let your own arm cover his over your waist as you lean back into the comfort of his chest, letting his breath fan across the skin of your shoulder as he presses a kiss to your skin. 
“I wanna try again,” You speak softly into the dark, feeling Tommy’s arm’s squeeze you tighter, “Once more and then we cool it for a while.” 
“You sure?” He asks into your ear, lips pressing to the sensitive skin behind your ear. 
“I’m sure.” You respond, turning around in his arms to capture his lips in yours. 
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When the time comes to try again, it’s you who greets Joel at the door when he knocks. Tommy already upstairs and situated in the chair he had taken the first time you’d done this as a three. Joel leans down, lips just millimeters from your own, but instead of kissing your mouth, he places a soft kiss to your cheek instead. 
“Hello, darlin’.” 
You step up onto your tiptoes to press your own kiss to his face, just shy of the corner of his mouth – the kisses from last time still a secret between the two of you. 
“Evening handsome,” You smile, pulling away from him to close the door as he steps inside, “You ready?” 
“To give you what you want?” He smirks, “Always, pretty girl.” 
You feel that telltale heat flush across your cheeks as Joel pulls you into his side, hand dipping down to squeeze your ass over the fabric of the robe you’d thrown on moments ago. God, why did he have to be so fucking intoxicating around you?
You take hold of his hand in yours, leading him up the stairs behind you. Tommy was reading a book as you entered the room, folding the corner of the page before setting it down on the nightstand closest to the chair. You can’t help but snigger as you watch him and Joel give each other the typical male greeting of a curt nod of the head. 
You drag Joel by the arm to the foot of the bed, pushing his shoulders down so he sits on the edge. Then you take a step back and tug on the belt of your robe, letting it fall open and off your body to leave you completely naked in front of him. You watch his face as he trails those beautiful brown eyes over your body, letting out a low whistle of approval. 
“Beautiful as ever, darlin’,” He compliments, reaching out a hand for you to take, “But you’re worked up, ain’t ya? And not in the good way.” 
Your eyes flit to Tommy in the corner of the room, who has that smug ‘I told you so’ look on his face. You’d been itching for Tommy to arrange this since that ovulation test said you were in the zone, but Joel had been working away for the past two days, and now you were worried that if you didn’t hurry the fuck up, you’d miss your chance. 
Joel reaches out and puts his hands on the back of your thighs, pulling you into him, he’s looking up at you, pressing hot kisses to the skin of your tummy, “Gotta relax babygirl,” He moans, “I’m tryin’ my damned hardest, but you just gotta let nature take its course.” 
“Just frustrating.” You mumble. 
“I know baby, I know,” He’s got his hands palming your tits now, “Long as I need to, I’ll keep fillin’ you up, y’hear me?” 
Your breath catches in your throat and all you can do is nod as he moves himself back on the bed. 
Joel leans back on the bed, his head just shy of the pillows, “Sit on my face, pretty girl.” 
You’re almost embarrassed at how quickly you scramble yourself onto the bed, moving up to straddle his hips – even Tommy is chuckling from his chair. 
“Can’t get enough of Joel’s mouth on your pussy, can you, sugar?” He speaks in a low voice. 
Joel has his hands on your ass, guiding your naked body to hover over his face before his hands are slipping up to your hips to pull your cunt to his mouth. He wastes no time in getting straight to business, wide tongue licking stripes from your entrance, where he laps up your slick like a cat would cream, to those deliciously tight flicks of the tip of his tongue to your clit. You can hear him groaning into your pussy, your hand coming down to anchor itself into his hair to hold him still as you start grinding against his face. 
You can hear the obscene slurps that he’s making underneath you, it’s half the reason you think it takes you no time at all to reach the edge, because he fucking enjoys this just as much as you do, he loves tasting you, loves making you feel good and you can feel that, can feel it on his mouth. 
As you throw your head back as Joel’s tongue swipes perfectly across your clit, you catch Tommy in the corner of the room. He’s palming himself through his jeans as he watches you, your body writhing as his brother’s mouth brings you closer and closer to the edge. It wouldn’t hurt, would it? You think, if you asked if he wanted you to help him out. 
“You feeling left out baby?” You coo, reaching your hand out for Tommy to take, “Joel gets my pussy tonight,” You punctuate with a grind of your pussy down onto his mouth, “But I can help you, if you want.” 
He’s standing at the edge of the bed in minutes, his hand pressing into the back of your neck, not unlike how he tries to work the knots from there when you watch TV together. It’s soft and it’s loving and a complete juxtaposition to the vice grip that Joel’s fingers currently have on your hips. 
Your lips are impossibly close to Tommy’s, you could easily lean forward and kiss him, instead, you have a demand, “Take off your pants.” 
Tommy’s hands start to undo the belt holding his jeans up, so you turn your attention back to Joel between your thighs. He is expertly holding you right on the edge, you’re mewling and whining as he tongue works you to the edge, and then pulls away, moving down to gather more of your slick on his tongue. 
You drop your head and catch his eyes looking up at you, “You gonna tease me all night, Miller?” You ask, voice cracking as he makes a point to suckle on your clit, making you cry out, “Fuck, make me come, please Joel.” 
All of a sudden, Tommy’s hand is on your face, pulling your mouth to his own in a searing kiss as he guides your hand to his cock. You’re moaning, a combination of the fact that any second, Joel’s mouth is going to have you screaming and the fact that it’s Tommy kissing you, his cock you’re currently pumping through your fist. It’s delicious and it’s filthy and it should feel all shades of wrong, but it fucking doesn’t. 
You feel it in your legs first, the way they begin to shake and pulse and your thighs clamp around Joel’s face. Then you feel it in your abdomen, like a knot unfurling all at once as pleasure bursts over every inch of your skin. Your mouth detaching from Tommy’s, so you can cry out his brother’s name as you feel yourself almost collapse onto him. 
“Such a good girl,” Tommy breathes into your ear, your hand still firmly held around his cock, “So good when you come for us like that.” 
You feel Joel’s hands tapping at the cheeks of your ass, telling you to lift yourself off his face which you do, dragging yourself down enough so that you’re sat across his chest, not caring that your leaking pussy is dragging slick all over him. His face is covered, covered in you. He’s grinning up at you like the devil, tongue circling his mouth to clean your taste from wherever he can reach. 
“I gotta be inside you, pretty girl.” You can hear his gruff voice speak. 
Tommy immediately moves back from you so you can settle yourself down on the bed. You start on your back, but Joel moves you to lie on your side. He’s still fully clothed behind you, but when he presses himself up against you, you can feel his thick cock straining in his jeans. 
“Take your clothes off.” Is all you can manage to whine as Tommy settles on his knees on the space in front of you, taking the back of your head in the palm of his hand to bring your mouth to his cock. 
Joel shuffles away from you and you feel the mattress lighten as he gets off the bed to shed his clothes. You almost wish you could watch, there’s something about the way Joel reveals his body to you that drives you wild. The way he drags his shirt off to reveal his broad frame, chest peppered with hair, or the way his cock bounces when he finally pulls off his underwear. But right now, you’re focused on making your man feel good. 
You’re making sure that you’re doing it exactly as Tommy likes, almost telling him through the ministrations of your mouth how grateful you are for him, for this being his idea, for loving you enough and trusting you enough to let someone else give you what he cannot. You’re giving all the attention of your tongue to the head of Tommy’s weeping cock, tasting the salt and musk of his pre-cum, using one had to pump the base of his cock. 
You can feel Joel settle back behind you, pressing his entire body against your own, hard cock slipping through the slick folds of your cunt as he settles himself in the right position, then, he’s taking hold of your leg, hand in the crux of your knee to pull it up, baring his prize. He slowly inches his cock inside your tight heat and suddenly it’s all a little overwhelming. 
You’re giving the love of your life the kind of head you’ve only ever seen in porn, Tommy taking most of the control to thrust in and out of your mouth. You’re pretty sure the tears falling from your eyes are a mixture of his length hitting the back of your throat and the overwhelming emotion, love, and admiration you feel for both the men who are crowding your body, owning it, taking what they both want, one of them hopefully leaving you with what you want. 
You pull your face away from Tommy’s cock for a moment, still giving his length the attention it needs, but you let yourself lean into Joel behind you, his cock still moving languidly inside you. He’s got one of his arms snaked under your neck, your head leant against his arm like a pillow, his other hand holding your leg up so that every time his cock brushes inside you, it’s hitting that damn spot that makes you want to cry. 
“Look at you, lucky girl,” Joel growls into your ear as his lifts your leg up higher, pushing it almost to lie flat aagainst your side, “One cock in that pretty little pussy, another in your mouth,” You let a moan, muffled by the fact that Tommy is currently doing a slap-up job of fucking your throat, “He’s a lucky man,” Joel speaks again, “Bet that mouth feels divine.” 
“You ask nicely, she might oblige you, brother.” 
You feel him puff air through his nose in a chuckle, “I’m quite happy right where I am,” He speaks, pumping his cock so deep inside you that you actually think you can see stars, “You’re a lucky son-of-a-bitch gettin’ this for the rest of your life.” 
“She’s special, I’ll give you that.” 
It’s like you have to prove him right now. You can feel the walls of your pussy clenching around Joel as he picks up his pace. You can feel his balls slapping into your skin with every thrust, the power behind them causing your mouth to take Tommy cock deeper into your mouth every time. 
“Sugar, I ain’t gonna last much longer.” You hear him speak from above you. 
You pull off him, again letting your hand work him as you look up at his through your lashes, “You want me to swallow for you, baby?” You asked, wondering what you must look like when he looks down at you, fucked out from his brother, begging for him to come down your throat. 
“There’s an offer I cannot refuse,” Tommy grins, letting your mouth take him back inside the warmth, “Such a good girl.” 
He only lasts a few more seconds, cum hitting your tongue and seeping down your throat. You swallow down every drop, grinning up at Tommy. He leans down and plants a kiss to your lips, and now your focus is on Joel, thick and solid, pumping his cock in and out of you. 
“You focus on Joel now, sugar,” He croons, “I’m gonna sit back and watch you have fun.” 
As soon as Tommy has moved away from you, Joel is pulling his cock from your pussy, turning you onto your back before he’s crowding his frame over you, settling between your thighs. You’re pliant and you move easily when he hooks your legs over his shoulders, folding you back as he slips his cock back inside you. 
You’re gripping his arms as he fucks into you in earnest now, tip of his cock bruising your cervix with every thrust, you know he’ll have half-moon shaped marks on his arms come the morning, they’ll match the bruises he always leaves on your hips, the shape of his fingertips indented into your skin. 
“God fuckin’ damnit,” Joel groan, head falling to the column of your throat to graze teeth and lips over your delicate skin, “Gonna come so deep in this fuckin’ pussy it won’t have a choice but to take, you hear me, pretty girl?” 
“Fuck!” You exclaim, as he shifts just enough to change the angle that his cock is spearing into you, “Joel please.” 
“Please what?” He teases, “What do you want, babygirl?” 
“Inside,” You breath out, “Want you inside.” 
“Yeah, want me to make you a mama?” You can feel tears pooling in your eyes, “No need to cry, pretty girl,” He leans down, folding you in half even more, almost uncomfortable, to kiss away the tears, “Gonna give you what you need.” 
He thankfully moves back a little, stopping your bones from screaming at you for being folded so inhumanely, then his thumb is on your clit, “Only gonna make you a mama if you come with me,” Joel smirks, “Deal?” 
“Oh god – fuck – whatever you want,” You cry, “Please, give me what I want.” 
His thumb is relentless on your already sensitive clit, those tight circles have you clenching around him and when you look into his eyes you know he’s just as close as you are, “That’s it baby, you keep those big, beautiful eyes on me,” Joel’s hips are snapping into your with a force you didn’t know you could feel, it’s entirely too much and entirely too little all at the same time, “Can feel that tight little pussy suckin’ me in,” You cry out as his thumb falters and drags across your clit in a way that has that not threatening to unfurl yet again, “It’s alright baby, if you come, I’ll follow, yeah?” 
That’s exactly what happens. His thumb traces wet circles over your clit and you do exactly as he says. You keep your eyes wide open, staring directly into his own, as your mouth falls open with a screech as your vision clouds. Whatever happens, Joel is right behind you, his cock pounds into at most, twice more, before he’s growling your name through his teeth, cum painting every inch of your pussy. He drops your legs from his shoulders, and falls forward, letting his head rest in the crook of your neck as you both fight to catch your breath.
You wrap your arms around him but it’s all too soon before he’s pulling himself out of you, a kiss to your cheek as he does so. You’re spent and you’re aching and if you’re honest, a little overwhelmed. Joel dresses quickly, and you wish you could ask him to stay, wish he didn’t feel the need to run away, but you know it’s for the best. Tommy tells you he’ll see him out and come to bed, so you roll over and pull yourself under the sheets, trying to warm yourself from the cool air that’s spattering across the sweat of your skin. 
Tommy is back within minutes having seen Joel off. He shed his clothes and moves right up behind you, gathering you into his arms. He takes some time to press kisses into your neck and across your shoulders and for some reason, it sets your belly on fire. How have you been fucked so thoroughly by another man, this man’s own brother, and now you’re aching for this man behind you. 
“I love you so much, Tommy,” You whisper into the dark, clutching at his arms wrapped around you, “So fucking much.” 
“I love you too baby,” He whispers into your ear, stilling your hips as they grind back into him, “Enough of that, I’ll give you what you want tomorrow.” 
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beepboopkek · 9 months
Text
— Strip Starchess with Jing Yuan (Female Reader)
Including: Jing Yuan cw: afab!reader, pwp but barely, slight mention of reader having a size kink, unprotected p in v, first time writing a proper fic, first time writing smut (please send help), reader is a little bashful, overall its kind of a self-projection I guess. Jing Yuan is a little bastard (affectionate), stripping (who would've guessed), grammatical errors(I tried), Jing Yuan calls you pet names (dear, love), no use of y/n, light bondage ( reader gets their hands tied with a t-shirt nothing too bad), safe sane and consensual w/c: 3941 (might be a little off since I made a few edits in this post) a/n: I am so sorry for this I am going to die of cringe later but I needed this out of my brain so I made my best attempt at writing. There is a lot of stuff that is bad but I do not have the energy or patience to do it so, you have been warned, this is a first-time smut from an inexperienced writer whose first language isn't english :3 hope someone out there likes this
You were bored.
Extremely bored.
Jing Yuan had promised you he’d come home on time so that the two of you could enjoy dinner together. You had something fun planned for the evening for the two of you. Something you were excited to try out.
One problem though, there were still no signs of your boyfriend’s arrival.
You sent him a few messages asking him where he was but to no avail, you knew for a fact he wouldn’t be able to respond anyway.
The sound of a door opening broke you out of your thoughts as you turned around and were met with an apologetic soft smile on Jing Yuan’s face.
“Yu.”
“My Love.”
You huffed at him in annoyance, realising what he was trying to do. He always knew how to soften you up.
“You’re late.” You said as you watched him unstrap his boots and place them near the shoe rack before he turned to look at you.
“I apologize, I overslept in the afternoon and had to compensate as a result.” Jing Yuan gave you a pitiful look.
“Regardless, I am here now,” He walked over to where you were seated and leaned down to place a chaste kiss on your head. “And I’d love to eat what my dear has cooked for me.”
You rolled your eyes at him a little and turned towards the table again as he took his seat opposite to you. You began eating in silence while Jing Yuan served himself some of the food you’d made.
“C’mon, don’t be like that.” He spoke suddenly as you focused on eating and ignoring him.
“Be like what? I didn’t do anything.” You huffed back to him again while continuing to look at your food when you suddenly heard the sound of a chair being dragged across the floor, you looked up, only to be met with your boyfriend’s amber eyes boring into yours.
“What can I do to make it up to you?”
You grumbled something with your mouth full.
“I didn’t catch that, love.”
You gulped down your food, 
“I said, play Starchess with me”
“Do we not play Starchess on a regular basis already?”
“We do, yes, but I found a new variation of the game that I thought would be fun to try out. Only if youre up for it, though.” You made eye contact with him again as his eyebrow shot up in surprise.
He leaned in on the table and rested his head on the palm of his hand as he tilted his head lazily.
“Go on.”
Your confidence and annoyance all but vanished this exact second, you really hadn’t expected him to be this interested and knowing him , he probably already has an idea simply based off of the tone of your voice.
“...Nevermind.” You looked away, blushing as Jing Yuan continued to watch in lazed amusement.
“Is it-”
“Yes it’s Strip Starchess, okay? I thought it would be fun to play.” You blurted out as your ears turned a light shade of red.
“I was going to say Blitz Starchess.”
Your eyes widened in horror as you turned back to look at Jing Yuan who was now miserably failing at holding back his laughter as his shoulders shook silently and he pressed his lips together.
“I hate you.”
Jing Yuan laughed and you pouted.
“I didn’t do anything, though?”
“You know exactly what you're doing, Yu.”
Jing Yuan smiled apologetically once again as you pouted while avoiding eye contact with him. He sighed fondly and picked up his chopsticks again.
“Strip Starchess, hm? Let’s finish dinner and begin.”
You huffed again and turned back to your food and soon enough, Jing Yuan started some casual conversation and the whole ordeal was pushed to the back of your mind.
. . .That was until after you both finished eating and cleaning up.
Shit.
You suddenly had very important things to do in your library so you quietly started walking towards it, hoping Jing Yuan had all but forgotten about your earlier conversation. Just as you were about to open the door, a familiar voice called out from behind you,
"Dear?" 
You slowly turned around, trying not to look like you were caught committing a crime.
"...Yes?"
"Where would you like to play? I think the living room would be best since it is rather spacious. We can close the curtains but,"
Jing Yuan paused as he looked towards the box in his hands and back to you,
"I'm saying that while assuming that we will be taking off our clothes sooner or later. Am I wrong?" 
He smiled innocently. This bastard knew exactly what he was doing.
"... Fine, let's go to the living room then, I'll explain the rules to you." 
Jing Yuan hummed pleasantly as he walked behind you, setting the board down onto the hard wooden flooring as the both of you sat down facing each other. 
He opened up the box and set up the game and looked at you expectantly.
There was no backing out now, so you might as well give it your best.
"It's in the name, you strip when you lose a pawn." 
"Strip entirely? Or just an article of clothing?"
"You know exactly what I mean."
You gave an exasperated sigh as you stared at him with the grumpiest expression you could muster.
"I'm afraid I don't, love."
He gave you a cat-like smile as he patiently waited for you to explain.
"...Only a piece of clothing. The one who has the most clothes off at the end of the game is the loser,"
You made yourself comfortable, you need your initial confidence back desperately.
"We'll play 3 games and see who wins. I won't be going easy on you."
You smiled at him mischievously as he chuckled and re-adjusted his seating position before looking right into your eyes.
"Very well then, let the games begin." 
You focused your eyes on the board and played your first move, positioning the soldier pawn in front of your king 2 steps ahead.
Jing Yuan’s eyes lit up as he countered it by moving the same piece on his side. He knew exactly how you were going to play and he was going to ensure he won.
The game progressed and you eventually lost your first pawn, you sighed in annoyance at the realization as you looked up to see your boyfriend with his cat-like smile and of course, he had the most innocent look on his face.
Damnit.
You sighed reluctantly as you cursed him under your breath and removed your jacket.
“Happy?” You deadpanned at him.
“Very much so. Don’t be upset, you still have a chance to win.” He smirked lazily as he waited for you to play your turn
You were more cautious now, not letting him take any of your pawns when you realized you had a safe opening to take his pawn!
You took the chance and took his soldier with your bishop. Looking up at him in triumph.
He smiled back at you casually as he raised his hands in surrender,
“You got me there,”
You watchedn him in anticipation as your mouth watered a little, sure you’d been living together for a few months now but, nothing beat seeing Jing Yuan’s body.
He place his hand on his shoulder guard and removed it before smiling at you pleasantly again.
You blinked once.
Twice.
Scanning him to see if he removed anything else while you were day-dreaming.
Nope, nothing.
"I said one piece of clothing, your shoulder brace doesn't count as one." 
"You never specified if accessories were also counted."
You huffed at him, "You never asked!" 
"I don't recall having to ask, I gave you the chance to explain everything to me." He smiled innocently again.
He was right. 
He knew he was and continued to play his next move.
Bastard.
Suddenly, it dawned on you that he was still in his armor and work uniform, meaning it would take at least 15 individual games of Starchess to get even the first layer off of him. Your eyes widened in realization as he looked at you and stifled his laughter.
Well, you certainly weren't in your work clothes and barely had anything on in the first place but you might have a few accessories on your person if you looked hard enough.
Two can play that game.
The game continued as you tried your best to defend your pieces from his attacks but he was too good… much to your displeasure.
By the end of the first game, Jing Yuan barely looked any different from how he was when he entered your shared home while you had to remove your own rings and piercings, putting them away in a corner neatly as to not lose them.
Jing Yuan won the first game by the rules of normal Starchess and the two of began your second round.
You were determined, but so was he.
Time passed rather quickly as you watched your boyfriend remove more accessories and you really wondered how he was able to walk or even fight with that much on his body.
You shook your head. Now's not the time for distractions.
The game progressed as you watched your pawns get taken one by one.
Rook, Bishop, a couple of soldiers and the list went on.
…You realized very late that you were going to lose.
You've never beat him in a game of starches, partially because he sneaks away your pieces but also because he's genuinely skilled at playing the game.
You were down to your last game, Jing Yuan in his shirt and pants along with some random trinkets of his uniform that you didn't even know the purpose of, you, however, were a different story.
You'd managed to get down just to your t-shirt and panties, shivering a little in both anticipation and the chill of the night.
“Do you need a blanket? You won't have anything to cover you soon enough, I'd hate to get you sick, dear.” Jing Yuan looked at you lazily.
Bastard.
He knew exactly what he was doing.
“I'm good. This is the last game and by the look of it, you've lost more pieces than I have.”
He made a content noise in the back of his throat as if agreeing with you before looking down at the board and smiling.
“I'm afraid you are correct, I admire your confidence in the face of calamity. However,”
He moved his bishop in line with your king.
“Checkmate.” 
You glanced around the board, trying to find an escape route but there were none. 
There was no denying it, you had lost the third game as well.
But the rules were about clothes, you looked up at him and back at yourself.
“. . . Fuck.”
You sighed, reluctantly admitting defeat.
“Alright , alright. You win the 3 games and the whole game considering you have more layers on you than I do.” 
Jing Yuan smiled in amusement as he crossed his arms and tilted his head slightly,
“So, what's my reward for winning?” 
You were already packing up the board as you looked at him with a huff and stood up.
“I'll let you nap in the afternoon more tomorrow, that's your reward.” 
But before you could move your half naked self away, Jing Yuan moved closer and swiftly knocked your knees back so you toppled down onto him.
“Jing Yuan! I almost knocked the board on your head!”
You had wrapped your arms around his neck, scared to lose balance and plop onto the floor if he were to drop you.
“I'm interested in another reward.”
“What?”
“I'm the winner so isn't it natural I get to pick my reward? Besides, no proper terms were set for it when you explained the rules to me.”
“You little shit, you knew this was going to happen.”
“Dear, I am the divine foresight for a reason.” 
He chuckled as his hands slowly moved down your torso and to the hem of your t-shirt. 
He grasped the hem as he leaned into your body and spoke lowly in your ear
“Of course, if you don't want this, we could just revert to my original reward.” 
His hold on you was firm but gentle, indicating that he'd let you go if you wanted him to.
“But, something about the way you're trembling in my hold tells me you don't want to stop, do you?” 
Your breath was coming out in shaky puffs now. You simply looked away in embarrassment before he pressed himself closer to you, you could feel the warmth of his body through the clothes he was wearing.
“Answer me.” 
“. . . I don't want you to stop” 
He smiled against your ears and you swear if he had a tail it would be swishing around in excitement by now.
“That wasn't so hard, was it?” 
Kissing the red shell of your ear he moved your face towards him and kissed you deeply before pressing his forehead to yours.
“Now, allow me to claim my reward.”
He peppered kisses along your jaw as his hands finally, finally took your t-shirt up to your neck as you raised your arms to help him get it off.
You were down to your panties and bra now, coincidentally, you were wearing one of his favourite sets’.
His kisses continued downward, unbuckling your bra with one hand while the other appreciatively squeezed around your body.
He leaned down on your chest, taking a nipple into his mouth as his other hand tweaked with the other and you gasped, sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine.
Your hands immediately found purchase in his soft hair as you closed your eyes and whispered his name.
Jing Yuan always , always made sure to lather extra attention to your chest, you never understood why but it had now become a sensitive spot for you.
He kissed and licked around your nipples, leaving little bites in between so that he can see them in the morning and fuck you all over again.
Deciding he'd done enough to your chest (for now) he moved his attention downwards, chuckling breathlessly at the small wet patch on your panties.
His large hand slid down as he started moving his finger up and down on your panties, making the wet patch grow bigger.
“You call me a bastard and yet have the nerve to be this wet for me, hm?” 
“S-Shut up.” 
You panted as your brain became fuzzy and warm, not being able to think of anything else except Jing Yuan touching you.
He smirked as he added pressure with his finger on exactly where your clit is and you gasped loudly. The fabric of your panties providing a weird but not unwelcome feeling.
“Do you think you can cum just from this alone?”
“I don't k-”
You cut yourself off with a loud moan as he pinched your clit and rubbed it.
“You don't know? Well, that's too bad. We'll just have to find out it seems, hm?”
You were gasping for air and moaning loudly at this point, thrashing and tugging at Jing Yuan’s hair like your life depended on it.
“I'm feeling nicer today, let's take this off, dear.” 
He tugged at your panties and your hazy mind cleared for a second 
“Jing Yuan! Don't I-”
A loud ripping sound echoed through the room as you stared in horror at the shredded remains of your panties but before you could utter a word, Jing Yuan kissed you and simultaneously continued to make circles around your clit.
You weakly slammed your fisted hands onto the hard planes of his chest but to no avail, he wasn't going to let up.
He continued flicking your clit at a faster pace before speaking into your ear.
“Be a good girl and cum for me”
You moaned as you clenched his (now crumpled) white shirt in your hands as your eyes rolled back and your orgasm flooded over your body in waves.
The general continued to make slow and gentle circles on your clit as you got down from your high, peppering your body with kisses and bites everywhere.
You were still breathing heavily when you regained your senses again.
“So, my hypothesis was correct.” 
“You're gonna pay for that, Yu.”.
You said, not sure if youre referring to the torn panties or the fact that him massaging your clit was enough to get you to cum.
“Of course I will, and any other matching set you like so I can rip them all off of your body.” 
His voice was so calm while speaking you'd almost think he was unaffected by the situation but that was far from the truth, sitting on his lap gave away that he was extremely hard underneath you.
He kissed you again, gently this time as he pulled back and bore his eye into yours.
“Do you want to continue?” 
You didn't respond, only leaning in to kiss him before bringing your hands to the collar of his shirt and unbuttoning it.
“I'm not the only one that's going to be naked here.” 
He helped you take off his whole shirt, watching you as you admired his sculpted and scarred torso. 
“Turn around for me, love.”
You did as you were told, sitting in his lap with your back against his chest.
His hands suddenly came up on you again, going downwards to your pussy as he outlined your lips. Pressing gently on the soft flesh.
Your hands immediately found purchase on top of his much bigger ones, your breathing picking up again.
He inserted two fingers in you, pushing them in and out and curling them in just the right spot, hitting your already frayed nerves and stretching you open for him. Keeping the rhythm of his fingers up, slowly getting you towards the edge again when suddenly,
You were left empty as Jing Yuan retracted his hand and wiped it onto his pants as he unzipped them, before hooking both his hands under your plush thighs and lifting your slit above his cock.
“Tell me if you need a break.”
Before you could respond, he was already impaling you on his cock, pushing you down slowly as you reached back with your hands and grabbed his neck while arching your back.
“F-Fuck- too much-”
“You can take it, I know you can.”
He whispered breathlessly as he continued pushing you down until you met the base of his cock.
“There we go.”
Jing Yuan waited for you to adjust while rubbing gentle circles on your clit, watching intently as you fought to gain back your breath.
You were struggling at this point, mind in a haze at the feeling of being so full. Not knowing where to place your hands you blurted our the first coherent thought that came to your mind.
“. . .Tie my hands, please.”
Now it was the general’s turn to be surprised, you were not one to beg usually. He smiled coyly as he grabbed your discarded t-shirt and rolled it up to form a makeshift knot.
“If i was aware we were going to this tonight, I wouldve prepared more.”
You pushed your hands out together in front of you impatiently, just wanting to move but not trusting your shaking legs to carry through.
Jing Yuan kissed around your ears again started working on binding your hands immediately. Securing it as tight as he could, he tugged on it before pecking you on the cheek.
“There. Is that better?”
“Yes.”
You were fully panting now, subtly grinding yourself on his cock.
Jing yuan took it as his cue to move and hooked his hands under your thighs again before lifting you off his cock.
The split second where you were left empty was enough for you to whine. He wasn’t a cruel lover, though, he thrusted back in, filling you instantly.
He kept the tempo of fast but deep strokes and before long you could feel your second orgasm approaching.
Suddenly, there was a change as he pushed you down onto the wooden floor face first and ass up, the angle making him reach in different areas.
Your tied hands were above your head as you got rubbed on the floor like a mop cloth from his powerful thrusts. Jing Yuan bent over and draped his larger frame over your back, holding down your shaking hands with one of his own and thrusting faster.
“Come on, come for me.”
He whispered into your ear, again, reaching his other hand down to play with your clit.
And that's all it took for you to orgasm, releasing over his cock as he kept his pace.
For a few seconds, you blanked out completely, caught up in the haze of your orgasm that you didn't even notice Jing Yuan continuing,
That was until you were brought back to reality by a hit of overstimulation, tears already collecting at your lashes as the pleasure soared through your entire body.
“Y-Yu-”
“Just a little more.”
He continued rubbing fast circles over your clit and you could feel the tendrils of your third orgasm creeping up on you as you clenched around him hard.
It pierced through you just as your boyfriend finally released inside you, hot liquid filling you up and you felt so full.
Jing Yuan panted as he rested some of his body weight on you, essentially pinning you in place and having no way to move. Just the way you like it.
He grabbed your hips with both his hands as he gently thrusted a few times to get the last few seconds of pleasure in, wrecking your already overstimulated pussy.
“. . . I think my reward is incomplete.” He said after a few beats of silence.
“Absolutely not.” 
Jing Yuan laughed breathlessly as he pulled you back onto his lap and rested himself against the sofa, wrapping his hands around your waist and putting his head on your shoulder.
The both of you relished in the afterglow for a bit with him still stuffed inside you, just enjoying and soaking each other’s presence, you were the first to speak.
“Horny bastard, you really piledrived me on the floor of our living room.” You laughed while pecking at his cheeks.
“Me? I’m the horny one now? You were the one that suggested this game in the first place!”
Jing Yuan feigned hurt as he tightened his hold on you, eyeing you cheekily as your ears turned red.
“I didn’t proposition sex! It was a game to-”
“To what? Play house with each other?” Jing Yuan asked in an amused tone before continuing,
“You wanted it to end like this, didn’t you?”
“Not on the goddamn floor! I’m gonna have bruises from this tomorrow, I hope you're happy.”
You pouted and held your (still bound) hands close to your chest, hearing Jing Yuan snicker and feeling his chest shake.
“I’ll give you a massage right now, on the bed this time, to make up for it”
“And then what? Escalate it into having sex again? I need to walk tomorrow, Yu.”
“You know me too well.”
You looked at him into his eyes and he simply gave you a crooked smile
“Untie my hands, we need to clean up and get to bed”
“Hmm… How about I let you go now and you let me enjoy my reward in the shower again?”
You sighed before nodding in acceptance, you weren’t going to feel your legs tomorrow.
This is the price you pay for provoking the sleeping lion.
“Horny bastard.”
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wonderlandwalker · 9 months
Text
Frozen Solid | Finnick Odair x Reader
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THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox
Summary: Your past is haunting you, but Finnick is there to remind you it's going to be okay
Content Warnings/Tags: Nightmares, trauma, ANGST, character death, happy ending though dw, hypothermia, mentions of violence
Word Count: 2.6k
Requested by Anon: Do you think you could do something fluffy with Finnick Odair x Víctor! Reader where the readers games were in the extreme cold and they say something like “I don’t think I’ll ever be warm again” to Finnick
A/N: Please send me more requests! I am dying to keep writing but I don't have any more ideas. Also my spell check keeps telling me it's 'realized' not 'realised' and now I'm doubting my entire knowledge of the English language. Did not read this after writing it so praying my brain worked properly
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To say the games left you with issues would be an understatement. But this particular memory always seemed to keep haunting you. Maybe that was because this had happened before you taught yourself to close yourself off from your problems. Maybe it was because you hadn't figured out how to find closure yet.
Maybe it was because you were still afraid. Afraid of the tribute towering over you. Even though you weren't a kid that hadn't hit your grow spurt anymore. Even though you weren't that defenseless, innocent child anymore. The tribute was still bigger, and simply the memories made you feel powerless.
The familiar trees surrounded you, but they didn't make you feel safe like they used to before. A layer of snow covered the leaves like a warm blanket, except it was anything but. You were shivering, trembling, not sure which one. So you ran, your fight or flight instincts trying to contradict the memory
So you ran from the man who had said he would help you. You ran from your problem. You ran from your fear.
But it didn't work, it never did. You ran out of the forest, but before you even realized, you were right back inside. Every time you ran you just got stuck again. But they were all different spots. All the ones where you had camped for the night, all the places where you sat silently, too scared to light a fire to warm yourself, not willing to take the risk of eating any food that needed cooking. They all made their way into your imagination, but they all had one thing in common, they made you feel afraid. For most, you thought, childhood memories should resemble a sense of ease, of making you feel secure.
But that feeling had disappeared for you when you first entered the arena. You could still see it in front of you as if it was a crystal clear picture. Your platform had come to a stop, and at first, you were blinded by the light, the bright sun. Your mind had tricked you into thinking the sun meant warmth, and comfort. But when your eyes adjusted, and you saw the frozen lake you were placed over. You saw the cornucopia, on a frosted island in the middle. It had weapons and food, but most importantly, it had thick coats and fur blankets. You wonder sometimes if you should have gotten one, if it would have helped you, but the risk was too great, so once you heard the canon, you immediately ran in the opposite direction, for the forest behind you.
The first thing you did was look for a freshwater source, but everything, everything, was frozen. When you had become desperate, you had started to punch a hole into the thick ice. It took a long time before you broke through the surface, your hands weren't strong enough, but you didn't give up. There was a small crack, and it gave you hope to continue. When you had managed to get to the water, your knuckles were bleeding, and you could see bruises starting to form. But it didn't matter. You had done it. You cupped your hands into the water and felt the cold come over them once again. It was soothing, in a way. Your hands had become warm from the strain, but it was the first time you had felt any sense of warmth since you entered, so you were disappointed to lose it. 
You brought the water to your lips, and took a sip from it. You could feel it course through your body, and while it satisfied your thirst, it felt as if there was ice inside your veins. You had been cold up to now, but it was nothing compared to this. You could feel your insides losing temperature from the icy water.
You saw him walking your way, and even if you tried to forget, you could see his face in so many details. From his freckles that you had always admired to the dark look that filled his eyes as he came closer
You knew there was no use in running, but you still did, not wanting to confront him, having avoided doing so for as long as you can now remember. But all it did was pull you back into the forest. 
He came from the same district as you, he had said you reminded him of his little sister, and he had offered a pact. You still weren't sure why, you didn't have much to offer him. But now you guess it must have been his own memories, his own innocence wanting to help the girl that you made him think of, made him think there was still good left in him. And so you accepted, and in a way, you were grateful, because you never would have won without him, but the turmoil that stuck with you was heartbreaking. Maybe it would have been easier if it had all been over then.
He was still walking towards you, and even though he wasn't saying a word, you could tell what was going on inside his head. You could see it by the way he walked, how his arms stayed tightly next to his body. You could even hear him yelling at you in your head.
You walked backwards until you hit one of the trees. You started calling out for help, even though you were fully aware no one would come. There was no one else left. You screamed, asking for someone to help you, and the fear made your voice shiver. You knew it was the fear this time. Your body had stopped shaking from the cold after a few days. You had thought that was it, your body had given up, the cold finally having overpowered it.
You stood up, scrambling to your feet. For once, you felt warm again, you felt the blood dilating your vessels, but you knew better than to get hope. You have seen this. You had seen this in other tributes. Your body making a last attempt to warm you up, giving you a boost of power right before it would all be over. In a way you were grateful, it would finally be over. You didn't even want to win anymore, you just wanted to be warm. 
But your instincts still told you to run, and with the extra energy coursing through you, you did. 
You ran to the frozen lake, to where it had all begun, it was the only thing you could think of to go to. You ran, you ran until could no longer even feel your legs moving. He followed behind you, of course he did. He was close behind, but you were smaller, you were leaner, and you might not have as much stamina, but when it came to a fast sprint you could only just outrun him. You didn't even watch where you were going anymore. The more you ran, the colder you started to feel again. You wanted to stop, to not lose any more. To keep this little bit you had been given, but you weren't sure it would even stay if you did. 
The trees started to disappear, and before you knew it, you were on the lake. When you had first gotten here, the lake had seemed peaceful, tranquil. But now, it was nothing short of a battlefield. The bodies might have been taken away, but the blood still stained the ice, and the axes and spears still stuck out of it like weeds disturbing the carefully crafted landscape. 
You ran as far as your fleeting body could carry you. You felt it before you saw it. Ice freezing cold. This was it, this was the end. It wasn't a haven to be at peace, it was even colder than you had been. Your clothes were clinging to your body like the blankets of snow you had first noticed. Your hair was stuck to your forehead and your neck. 
You remember in the beginning, when you would run, and you would sweat. It was the first time you had carefully appreciated it in your life, the warm droplets gracing your skin. But not anymore, if your body even had the energy to sweat, it was cold, it stuck to you like the first rain of autumn. The brisk wind in combination only making you shiver more. 
So you opened your eyes, if this was the end you had hoped for, you didn't want it anymore. You opened your eyes and focused on your senses. You saw the lake, but it had risen. You had fallen in it. You looked around you and saw the cracks in the frozen surface. 
The fights, the violence, it hadn't just taken a toll on you. The ice was suffering just as much. It was hard to see from the snow that covered it, but from where you were, you could see it from the footsteps that had disturbed it. You looked behind you, and you saw him again. He had seen you fall in, and halted. You could see relief come over him. Relief that he wouldn't be the one to have to kill you, that the water would do it for him. You almost felt bad for him, he hadn't wanted any of this either. And if you had been in his situation, you weren't sure you wouldn't have done the same thing. 
But the water was your friend, at least it used to be. 
In your district, you grew up surrounded by it. Going to the sea in the summer, swimming until the sun went down. You remember you used to get so cold when it disappeared and you were left on the beach alone. But now you longed for it. 
So you swam, you swam until you felt your hands meet the solid surface of ice again. You had been light before you came here, the lack of food taking a toll on everyone you know, but it was worse now. The only thing you knew how to get was fish. You knew how to fish, but anything else you had counted on was not there. There were no berries on trees, there were no plants that could survive in this environment. And so your frame had become even slimmer. Your arms were trembling as you tried to lift yourself. You weren't sure if you would manage. This couldn't be the end. If it ended like this, your body would float away in the water like the ice that was floating on it, and you would always be cold. 
With a surge of motivation, you lifted yourself onto the surface and as soon as you did you fell down on your back. You looked up, thinking you had done it, you could rest now. You looked up at the sky, the sun was there, but you didn't trust it anymore. 
You heard something else move, and it made your head snap up. He was still there. 
He considered his steps, he couldn't reach you from where he was. But it was just the two of you, and something had to give. So he walked around the hole you had fallen into. He traced around it. He stood in the footsteps that had already been placed in the snow. 
But you didn't care anymore. You had gotten yourself out of the water, and you laid your head back down, looking back at the sun. Trying to recall the memories it held. But you couldn't feel it anymore, you couldn't feel the radiating heat. So you made peace with being cold, at least it would be over soon. 
If he had left you be, your body probably would have given up before his did. But he wanted it to be over too, he didn't want to wait any longer. He took another step, and you could hear the crack that echoed through the empty space. You looked at him, and you saw him realising his mistake as it happened. The footsteps had looked like a path, but really, they were weak spots. The steps had caused the ice strain, and it had decided it had had enough.
The cracking sound continued, until you could see the ice start to get lopsided. It started to slide towards the open water you had fallen into. You could see his eyes plead, he had convinced himself he had already won, and he was watching all his hopes disappear with one shift of snow. He fell in the water, but he wasn't friends with it. He trashed and tried to move forward, but his body was too broad, and all it did was exhaust him further. You wanted to reach out for him, to help him. You knew the cold that engulfed the water and you didn't want him to die that way. But all it would do was drag you in with him, and you found yourself watching. You watched him as his head sank under, you kept watching as if he'd come back out. You watched until you heard the last canon. 
It made you feel even colder. You thought it was over. But you could feel your heart stop, it didn't stop beating, it stopped giving you warmth. The last piece you had, had sunken down with him. Your head was filled with panic. You would never feel warm again, you don't think your body knew how to anymore, and your mind was too frozen over to even try. And just as you felt your heart slow down, just as you thought you would die in this permanent state of despair, you heard a voice calling out to you
It sounded familiar, but you couldn't place it. It felt like a star calling to you, telling you to follow it into the sky, to fly, to be free, free of this fear.
It told you to wake up.
Before you knew it the smell of pine left you, being replaced with a mix of sea salt and jasmine, it smelt like home
You felt someone shaking you lightly, and you realised the smell wasn't bound to your surroundings, but the person that was next to you.
"Sweetheart, you need to wake up, you keep shaking." He told you in a sleepy, but still gentle voice.
As you started to get a better concept of your environment, you realised that in your distraught state, you had woken him up.
"I didn't mean to wake you I'm sorry, I know you haven't been sleeping well lately." You said, guilt already entering your mind.
"Hey, look at me, don't you dare apologise" He looked at you as if your worry pained him, and you couldn't stop the next words from leaving you.
"I'm scared I'll never be warm again Finnick" You started to cry, and he took you into his arms.
"If you're having nightmares, I will stay up with you until the sun rises again." He smiled down at you. And that's when you realized, he wasn't a star in the sky, he was the sun, he was your sun. His smile warmed you, and his arms around you made you believe again. He was your sun, and as long as you had him, he would warm you.
374 notes · View notes
Note
Hii not sure if your requests are open or not- so ignore this if they’re closed! <3
Can I request some Obey Me! Headcanons?
So reader is the 8th sister of the brothers. So she’s the youngest.
Just some general headcanons of her relationships w the brothers
( And some of the side characters if it’s not too much trouble :>)
Thanks <33
I've already done something like that but I love the concept so I'm just going to build that 🖤🖤🖤🖤
Youngest Sibling Reader Headcannons | Yandere Obey Me
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Lucifer
Before I said he was the worst one and I mean it
He’s an amalgamation of someone who understands you but undermines you at every moment
Because he understands, he does listen
He just doesn’t hold your opinions on the same level as his own
But worse 
Of course his brother’s constant chatter about aimless things isn’t on his level
But every now and then he’ll enjoy hanging out with them 
But not you
Never you 
“Ah so you do pay attention to the political atmosphere. Good job.”
Or
“I don’t expect you to know but I’ll tell you anyways.”
It’s degrading
It’s disrespectful
And he does not care
You can cry and yell all you like 
it’ll just sound like a tantrum to him 
So he’ll treat like one
“If you can’t behave, I’ll have to send you to the attic.”
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Leviathan
As previously stated is apart of the group that just misinterprets everything you say
It’s hard to say if it’s delusion or denial 
Because sometimes he’ll slip up 
You’ll catch him crying or a single mumble in his late night rambles 
“Aw my baby is so grown up…I just can’t believe it anymore.”
If you try to address it he’ll pat your head and ruffle your hair (if you have any)
Before telling you it’s nothing for the baby to worry about anyway
It’s incredibly annoying 
When he writes off your achievements in gaming as button mashing 
Or saying your just a genius so you’d get on his level eventually
Any protests or ‘grown-up’ conversations are often just outright ignore
Now doing things outside of the ‘baby’ image he has of you mostly has him ignoring that too
Unless you come back hurt or specifically crying for his help 
He will actually start flooding places and going into an absolute rampage
He won’t listen to you about calming down
Its going to take all the brothers to de-aggro their brother to save everyone from drowning
“Sorry guys I just want to make sure our baby sib is doing okay!”
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Asmodeus
Also a part of that ‘doesn’t listen to you’ crew
Accept while he might actually here you his brain literally just never let’s him hear your real voice
“Can you please stop trying to rearrange my closet?! It’s weird to find you digging through my stuff–”
“Okay okay no need to cry what’s the problem baby sib? C’mon you can use your words! Tell big bro Asmo what’s the matter?”
It’s almost a concern when he does it in front of your other brothers 
Especially the ones you can hold an actual conversation
“Hey (Y/n) can you pass the salt and the salad.”
“Sure, man.”
“Hey Hey! Why are you bothering (Y/n), they’re trying to focus on eating? Not to mention your being such a meanie, trying to make them reach with their tiny arms!”
“(Y/n) is sitting closer to me than you…”
“So? How do you expect them to know good manners if you don’t show them! Here I’ll show you how! Watch me baby (Y/n)!”
He honestly doesn’t compute when you’re getting older
He’ll celebrate birthdays, milestones, awards
But he doesn’t believe you are growing and can’t see it either
Reprimanding you when you went out with your own car
“I’m all for playing with your toys, but you have to have a chaperone. Okay?”
That being said any advances from others are met with extreme animosity
“Not my little (Y/n)! Try that with someone else’s little baby!”
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Note
Usually don’t send requests, but since you asked: which creeps do you think would take psychic damage from a friend or partner who purposefully misuses slang? Just thought to ask cus I thought Ben would probably have a physical reaction and I think that mental image was funny lol 
———
Characters used: Ben, Jeff, and EJ, Tim
———
BEN:
He’ll cringe. No questions.
Now, I headcanon Ben as a self-taught modern-day gamer in the creepypasta universe (as in he’s bought every modern day consoles and devices and has slowly learned the mechanics and is now an expert), he’s got a plethora of video games for all his devices, his PC, consoles, Nintendo switch, and even his old DS!
So imagine when he’s showing you a new game he got for his switch….
But then immediately regrets it.
As you were sat in his lap, watching him play, you just casually drop, “Wow, Ben! This game looks so litty on fleek, fam!”
MF hasn’t EVER put his hands on you, but he is now-
He pushed you off his lap and looked at you like you kicked a puppy!
“I…I can’t even look at you,” he’d be all dramatic, “I don’t know who that was, but I NEVER wanna see them again!”
You’d just be laying in the floor in a puddle of giggles.
———
Jeff:
It would happen on a mission. You and Jeff were targeted with killing a family and to leave none of them alive!
So, let’s say the targets son was a bit more than Jeff bargained for, so you swooped in and had to save the day, managing to tie the kids arms behind his back, “GET FUCKING YEETED, SCRUBLORD!”
Radio silence.
“WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN?!”
“What do you mean? Like, we gotta yeet him, you catching my driftwood, fam? No cap!”
At this point Jeff just rubs his temples and finishes off the target by stabbing him. His brain too absorbed in other things to try and decipher whatever you’re talking about.
Soon after you two left, blood stained and all, Jeff spoke up, “Please, never ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, talk like that again!”
“Alright fine! No need to get so hostile, we gucci lit” you finished off with finger guns and a sly chuckle.
“(N/N)!”
———
EJ:
You were sick. Like, contagious sick.
So, per Jack’s orders, no leaving his infirmary only for the bathroom, always cough and sneeze into the elbow and not the hand, use tissues sparingly, wash your hands, and take showers to help alleviate headaches and open up your sinuses.
Unrelated, but don’t worry, he’s made sure his baby gets the best comfort, after all, he needs you well rested and feeling better! 🥺💙
It was around 8pm when he knocked on the door before slowly opening it, he was dressed in pajamas holding a bowl of soup, “Hi, love” He’d greet you with a smile, not wearing his mask, as a demon he couldn’t get sick and because he was comfy around you, “How’s my baby doing?” 😭
Of course you’d answer the same way every time, stating you were still sick, just like since the beginning of the week. 😔
“I made you some soup, I know it isn’t much, but it’ll help alleviate some symptoms, and you look like you’re freezing, baby” he’d say while handing you the soup.
You took a few bites of the noodle and a carrot piece, a small moan escaped your lips, “Fuccckk~ This shit is straight bussin’, Jack”
His smile that he had while watching you eat was replaced with one of confusion. “W-what?” 😩
You’d have to suppress a giggle, “What do you mean, ‘what? This soups straight bussin’”
He’d try to understand what you meant, trying to wrack his brain for any semblance of what the word could mean 😭
Overall, confused baby boi :(
Tim (Masky):
Masky angled the binoculars as he let out a low growl, watching as the group of targets were stationed at all access points. “Fuck.” He grumbled before lowering the piece of equipment as he turned to you and Hoodie. “This is gonna be a close call, they’re stationed at all points of access. Do you guys have your weapons?”
Hoodie gave Tim a firm nod as he pulled out his pistol from his hoodie pocket, Masky reached into his duffle bag and pulled out a rifle, cocking it. He was about to ask you when you suddenly grabbed the weapon.
“Whoa! This thing is so fire!” You’d say as you inspected it with awe. “Tim, bro! This gun so fire! This definitely screams ‘I have BDE but I’m not trying to make it a big deal’, you know what I mean?”
….
“What the actual fuck are you talking about?!” He’d ask in confusion and irritation, quickly yanking his rifle back from you, “And give me that!”
You let out a small yelp when it was harshly yanked from your hands. “Calm down, Timmy, on the DL you’re still on my DTF list frfr. No cap”
Masky silently sat the rifle down, gloved hands pinching the bridge nose of the porcelain mask.
Overall: disappointment, confusion and irritation.
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ficnation · 11 months
Text
Chapter 3: Splattered Brains
Series: “Eat Your Heart Out” Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Female! Reader x Will Graham Word count: 4,6k+ Warnings: canon-typical warnings A/n: Plot twist—I couldn't wait. Enjoy it, my darlings. (unedited)
Main Masterlist || Hannibal Masterlist
PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER
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Will looks through the peephole before opening the door, his entire body tense. He glances back at you apologetically, and you know he wants to continue where you left off. You want more too, but you understand—there’s the world outside, with its mysteries and its demands, and you both have to confront it.
The woman on the other side of the door is someone you don’t really recognize. Her face rings a bell somewhere in the back of your head, but you can’t say for sure you’ve met her before. She doesn’t seem like a person that would linger in your memory for long.
“Will,” the woman acknowledges him, red lips pressed into a thin line.
“Alana,” he responds, his tone flat and devoid of any sympathy. “What brings you here?” 
Will’s face is frozen in a state of neutrality, neither annoyed nor pleased by the woman’s presence—it’s impassive. A tiny part of you wonders if he’s ever looked at you with this much disinterest.  You know he doesn’t have it in him, he loves you with his entire being, but the idea makes a sour grimace crawl onto your face.
There’s no happy greeting between them, and it’s selfishly comforting even though it shouldn’t be. You don’t know her at all, yet she seems to be the polar opposite of what you stand for. 
Alana’s eyes flit across the room, landing on you for the first time, and as her gaze lingers, she raises her eyebrow. Her face has a timeless quality, sharp angles, and beautiful, expressive eyes. But something about her doesn’t sit right with you. That look she sends you as if she’s inspecting you, trying to analyze you—you hate it.
“Don’t ask me that question when you already know the answer to it,” she says, her tone just as cold and detached as Will’s. “I’m here for a reason, Will. And the less you drag this out, the better.”
You notice Will’s fists clench at her words, you take his hand in yours, dragging the pads of your fingers across his white knuckles. He relaxes under your soothing touch. You take a step closer to him, pressing yourself against his shoulder.
“Just get to your point,” Will says, his coldness making the situation all the more tense. “What do you want from me?”
Alana stares at your entwined hands then her eyes meet yours again, and Will notices how her attention is immediately pulled solely to you—as if everything else is bathed in a thick fog. You notice how her lips slowly curve downward, just a bit. You think she might be envious.
She bites the inside of her cheek, proving you right. She’s jealous. You can’t help but smirk at this realization. Will glances at you, asking wordlessly for an explanation, because whatever game this is, he’s clearly not in the loop. You don’t give him what he wants this time.
“I will give you some privacy then,” you suggest, whistling at the dogs to follow you outside. You don’t have to call for them twice, as they run toward the door, waggling their tails. “Just don’t take too long. I don’t want to keep Crawford waiting.”
Before Will can object, the dogs dash out the door, and you follow in their steps, shutting it behind you. You know you did the right thing by giving them some space. How she treated Will was unforgivable, but he has to fight this one battle by himself—if you stayed there by his side, you’d probably bash her head against the wall. Not today. This fight has to be his.
You look over at the door, and you think you can hear their voices through the walls, but you’re not entirely sure. After a few moments, the door opens and Alana storms out. She doesn’t even look at you, she just turns on her heel and walks away, leaving Will behind.
You lean against the railing of the porch, the dogs snuggling up against your calves for pets and scratches—something you never deny them. It’s a moment of peace in a world full of chaos, and you can’t help but enjoy it all—even the chill bite of the winter air. It’s refreshing after spending all night and morning with Will, whose body radiated so much heat, and who left you breathless every time he was close.
He steps out on the porch, and you turn to face him, confusion written across your features. The man only shakes his head, staring at her retreating back. You don’t pry, and he doesn’t tell. There’s a wordless understanding between the two of you already—he’ll tell you when he’s ready, and his emotions are no longer an overwhelming susurration.
Will takes his place at your side, elbows leaning on the wooden balustrade. Both of you watch in silence as Alana Bloom walks down the driveway, soon disappearing from your view. 
“You don’t like her much, huh?” you ask, voice laced with irony.
You don’t really expect an answer, so he only rolls his eyes. But there is a hint of sadness in them, a tiny sign of his own disappointment, at himself, her—all of it. He takes your hand in his and leans forward to kiss your icy-cold cheek.
He pulls away then, his gaze fixed on you. “We should get going,” he says quietly. “You don’t want to keep Jack waiting.”
And he’s right. You’ve been out here a little too long, and Jack is bound to be impatient by now. You’re sure he’s already called twice to ask you where you are.
Your cheek still tingles from the kiss, but you remain focused on the way Will’s expression shifts slightly. He’s crestfallen, there’s no denying it, and you know this conversation took a toll on him—even if he doesn’t want to admit it. He calls the dogs inside, then locks the door. You squeeze his hand, and with a sigh of resignation, the two of you head to the car.
The cold has gotten to your skin, and you can feel every pore of your body aching for warmth. The windshield is covered in a thin layer of snow, and your body shivers as you wait for Will to swipe it off with his glove-covered hand. Even though he already unlocked the car, you refuse to let him suffer in the unforgiving winter alone.
Once he’s done, he joins your side and opens the passenger door for you. The protest on the tip of your tongue dies off when he guides you inside with a steady hand on the small of your back—you comply. He closes it behind your back with a satisfied grin that doesn’t really reach his eyes. He gets in the driver’s seat and starts the car, warming it from within.
You put on the seatbelt, and relax your muscles, letting your fingers trail along the armrest and the door, enjoying the warmth against your skin. Your mind is wandering, lost in memories of the morning and the little moments you shared with Will. 
“You know…” Will starts from behind the wheel, his eyes don’t stray from the road ahead. There’s a quiet moment between you two while he considers what he has to say, and when he finally talks, he barely mumbles the words under his breath, “I was thinking…”
“About what?” You raise your eyebrow in curiosity, giving him all your attention and more.
“Well, I was thinking…” he pauses for a moment, the words struggling to leave his lips, he’s visibly tense.
You want to say something, help him find the words. It’s clear he needs a little push. So you reach up and caress his stubbled jaw—the lightest of touches—hoping the gesture can help ease him out of this nervous state.
It works. Will sucks on his bottom lip for a moment, still facing forward, but at least his face is calm now. “I’ve always been in love with you.” Even though it’s only a whisper, the confession sounds like thunder in your ears—its rumble shaking every tiny cell in your brain. “I never said it out loud until you disappeared. I regret it to this day.”
That’s all it takes for your chest to tighten and your heart to start hammering wildly. It makes you wonder if you’re on the verge of having a heart attack. You know you love this man—you know more than anyone else on this earth just how strong your feelings are for him. You were always aware that he reciprocated it—in his own intricate way, but there was no way to be absolutely certain. Hearing him say it now—gifted your mind with a blissful sense of peace.
You look at him, and you can’t find the words to respond. Nothing that comes to mind is even faintly close to what you feel for him, so you settle for a gentle squeeze of his thigh.
Will glances at you, his eyes roaming over the curve of your cheekbones, the shape of your lips, the long lashes fluttering over your eyes—you’re breathtaking. You don’t even need to respond—he knows how you feel already, and he’s just happy to have you by his side again. He’s head over heels, hopelessly and utterly—in love.
“I’ve never met anyone who made me feel the way you do,” Will continues, and the words ring out in the cramped space of the car. “Nobody has ever seen me the way you do. Nobody has ever loved me the way you do. You’ve been the only light in my darkness, the only source of hope in my life.” His voice softens with every word, and he doesn’t look at you as he talks, afraid he’ll get distracted if he does. He just needs to get it all out.
Your smile is so bright when he catches it in his peripheral vision—it could probably replace the stars at night. He takes a pause, and you wonder if all those words have made him feel better. It seems like that’s the case—he looks so much more peaceful next to you, no longer tense from holding in everything he felt.
Will chuckles, and it fills the air with a different kind of light that washes over you and makes you feel just a bit warmer. Just as you retract your hand from his thigh, his own reaches past the center console, his palm grazing your knee to find it again. He interlaces his fingers with yours, and you think you’ll die of joy, and you wish the drive in the car never had to end—you could stay like this, his hand clasped tightly to yours, forever.
Silence falls between the two of you, but you’re so close to each other that it feels like there’s no need to speak. The tension in the car is gone, and Will’s words still linger in your mind. I’ve always been in love with you…
You’re so caught up in this elation, you don’t even notice when you reach your destination. The brutalist architecture of BAU’s building makes you feel intimidated—more than you anticipated. It’s cold, uninviting. There’s also another feeling that crawls over your skin, a sense of dread, but you shake it off before it can completely take over.
Will pulls into a parking spot, turns off the engine, and faces you. “We’re here,” he says, a grim expression on his face. It’s so different from how you just saw him a mere moment ago.
You share that expression. You feel it on your face, the weight of it pressing down on your soul as you slowly realize that you’ll need to step away from the bubble of happiness you’ve been in. It’s not a bubble you would ever want to pop—so you have to leave it behind. Shut it off.
You take in the headquarters’ exterior, its harsh outlines, and the shadows it casts on the already grim streets of Quantico. Your stomach sinks. There’s a part of you that missed this place, being in the field and helping people—it used to be your dream—but now you despise it. You don’t want to go back to seeing dead bodies over and over again, hearing the murmur of their whispers that never disturb the air and never leave you in silence for too long.
“I’ll take you inside,” Will offers, but you don’t really have a say in it either way. Of course, he notices the solemnity on your face. He puts his hand on your cheek, the skin of your cold face against his warm palm warming you for a brief moment. “Are you okay?”
“No,” you answer simply. You don’t have to say anything more.
Will gently caresses your jaw, thumb brushing softly against your lower lip. His eyes are filled with concern for you. He nods slowly, his hand still on your cheek. You can’t even explain what you’re feeling right now, but he understands as much—he’s been there too.
“I know it’s not easy,” Will says softly. “But I’m sure Crawford won’t keep you there long.”
You’re about to voice your doubts, the million reasons as to why this is a terrible idea, but then you pause. You can’t seem to find them—there is no single coherent thought in your head, the stress of the day finally taking its toll on you.
Will sighs and pulls away, leaving his hand hanging in the air for a while before he finally rests it on his own thigh. He climbs out of the car, and you take a few deep breaths to try to quiet the voices inside your head. You don’t know what you need, you just know that you don’t want this.
You step out, and the silence between the two of you doesn’t go unnoticed. Will reaches out to you once again and puts a hand on your shoulder, as if he can’t decide what to do, either. He looks over your shoulder—at the towering building in the distance.
The man sighs and steps closer to you. He looks at you, eyes roaming over your face, scanning every single detail of your expression. His voice is soft, almost a whisper. “I know it doesn’t feel right being back here,” he says, his hands still resting gently on your shoulders. “But I need you to be strong, for just a few minutes. Okay? This might be important.”
You nod, willing to do anything for him—anything at all. The deep breath you take in almost makes your lungs flutter in outrage.
“That’s my girl,” he says, his voice a little softer than usual.
He pulls away finally but doesn’t let go of you entirely. His hand holds tight to your fingers, and Will starts to walk you toward the building. It’s cold, windy, and you’re not looking forward to a single second of being inside that building. You’d much better prefer to freeze here outside—maybe turn into an ice sculpture if you’re lucky.
There is an undeniable uneasiness in Will’s expression as he opens the big doors and ushers you inside. It’s a big lobby, and every person there is busy with tasks, on the phone, typing something or other away on their computers.
You see Crawford sitting on one of the couches in a corner that almost resembles a waiting room. He glances at Will, and his expression only hardens upon seeing you two together. You want to run away, but Will has a grip on your arm and doesn’t let go.
“Come with me,” Crawford says to you, his tone stern and a little annoyed, probably by the fact you’re twenty minutes late. “We need to have a long conversation.”
You share an unsure look with Will, he nods encouragingly.  You feel his hand gripping yours, and you notice how shaky you are. For a moment, you wonder what the hell you’ve signed yourself up for by coming here.
Crawford heads for the nearest elevator, not waiting for you to catch up with him. His attitude is clear—he’s annoyed, and he wants results. That’s how it’s always been, but you never got the chance to get used to it.
“I will be here when you come back,” Will promises, tentatively releasing you from his hold.
You nod in acknowledgment before following after your former boss with hurried footsteps.
It’s a tense, uncomfortable, and entirely too silent ride up to the top floor. The lights are bright, almost blinding, as the elevator rises. Crawford stands by your side, arms crossed over his chest, face expressionless. You wonder what he even needed you here for.
He walks ahead of you and takes out a keycard from one of his pockets. A moment later, he uses it to open a door in the hallway, revealing a large office. The lights inside are dim, almost cozy, and the view from the large windows is one you recognize. Crawford heads inside, telling you to follow with an exasperated sigh.
“They moved your office two more doors down the hallway,” you notice, looking around in curiosity. You hope your poor attempt at loosening the atmosphere works, even just a bit.
Once Crawford chuckles at your words, you know you succeeded. “You’ve always looked for distraction, haven’t you?”
He takes a seat behind his desk and motions for you to do the same. He spends a few moments looking you up and down with a blank expression, the kind he usually reserved for suspects at interrogation.
“Have I changed that much?”
Crawford shakes his head, a grin forming on his lips. “Not really.” He sighs and leans back in his chair, taking in the view from the nearby window. “Though you look older than I remember.”
“It’s been long eight years,” you admit with a nod. You don’t even want to think about all the new wrinkles that materialized on your face through those years.
His eyes travel over the length of your arms, and then over your face again. “I can see time’s been hard on you,” he says. You know he’s not referring to your physical appearance, and that’s what stings the most. “You haven’t had it easy, have you?”
“I managed.” You don’t give him more than that. The stories of your suffering are yours to tell when you feel ready—and you don’t.
Crawford’s lips narrow as he considers your response. He doesn’t seem to be one who accepts “I managed” as an answer. Then again, he’s never been the patient type. You’re surprised when he doesn’t question you further on the matter.
He leans forward to grab a folder from inside his drawer. “I brought you here because I wanted to talk to you about Hannibal Lecter.”
You sit up straight and lean forward in your chair. Your eyes, bright and curious, are fixed on Crawford, who seems to notice it.
“You seem interested,” he says in the same neutral tone as always. He opens the folder and starts flipping through the pages. Then, he sets the folder down and looks straight at you. “I’m here to ask you a question,” Crawford says, “and I want you to think very hard about your answer before you say it.”
The room is quiet, still, and your heart is beating frantically in your chest. The silence stretches on, and it’s so loud you can practically hear it. 
“Do you believe the Chesapeake Ripper murdered your father’s killer?”
You study Jack for a moment, noticing the gleam in his dark eyes, and the way he focuses entirely on your response. You weigh your options—you can deny it and trust that Will already has a plan to catch Hannibal, or you can tell the truth and hope your former boss doesn’t consider you delusional.
“Yes, or no?” Crawford urges you, his tone sharp. It takes all your willpower not to answer right away.
“I do,” you blurt out finally with a resigned sigh. “I think he did it.”
The man nods slowly, his lips pressed together in thought. He doesn’t seem surprised by what you told him—it almost makes you wonder how much he already knows.
“Do you have any proof?” he asks. That’s the million-dollar question, and you know your former boss isn’t asking it just to make conversation. “Do you have anything to support your claim?”
“I wasn’t allowed near the evidence.”
“Don’t bullshit me.”
You feel your stomach twisting into knots for a second, but you remain calm. Crawford is not the kind of man you can lie to, so you take a breath and say what you have to say, the words spilling out of your mouth on their own.
“I know it sounds crazy,” you admit, “and I can’t say that I expected you to believe me. But I know I’m right about this.” You can feel Crawford judging you with his relentless gaze, so you continue, “He lost far too much blood, yet there was no sign of it pooled around him. Not the amount he’s lost. It’s almost as if it was drained out of him.”
Crawford only nods. He doesn’t look at you like you’re crazy—he looks at you like he’s studying a puzzle. He considers your words, staring at your face, his expression still and unchanging. Your words feel like they’re bouncing in the air, waiting for a response, for something that isn’t silence.
“And you’re sure there’s no other plausible explanation for it?” his tone is curious, interested.
Your heartbeat quickens as you shake your head back and forth. “No, that’s impossible.”
He’s intrigued now. The man doesn’t say a word, but you can tell from the way he looks at you. Crawford looks like he almost believes you. He’s interested, alright—very interested.
“Do you think it was Hannibal?” he asks. You notice the change in his tone, and you know a yes or no response will not be enough for Crawford this time. He needs the answer to satisfy his curiosity.
He has an aloof expression on his face, the kind that never truly gives away his thoughts. It keeps you hanging in uncertainty, because you have no idea what you should tell him that could possibly sate that curiosity.
“I believe Will.” Your answer is short, devoid of anything he was hoping for.
Crawford doesn’t seem to like that answer, at least by the way his eyes narrow and the way his lips tighten into a thin line. Then, after a momentary pause, he leans forward in his chair, his elbows resting on his desk.
“And what’s this belief based on?” he asks, his tone demanding, almost a challenge. He’s expecting you to tell him, to give him a reason to believe you.
“He’s not insane, Jack.”
“What makes you think he’s sane?”
You don’t hesitate when you give your answer this time. “Because I know him.”
You notice his eyes studying you once again, his gaze not stopping on any detail of your face. He doesn’t comment on what you just told him, and doesn’t tell you whether he believes you or not. Instead, he leans back in his chair once again and sighs. He lets his fingers tap against the wood of the table for a moment, a small sound in the quiet office.
“Your father’s case will be reopened. Be prepared to be questioned again,” he says, his voice very much like the Crawford you know. “Now I need you to answer me one last question.”
“What is it?” You tilt your head, you almost look curious, as if whatever he wants to ask isn’t something that worries you. It’s a carefully built facade, and you hope he doesn’t see straight through it.
It’s an uncomfortable few moments, as Crawford takes a break from his tapping to look straight at you with those intense eyes. The wait is almost killing you—but the tension in his expression might be even more deadly. He’s thinking deeply, and whatever he’s just figured out isn’t anything that you would like to be privy to.
“I want to offer you a deal,” is all he says. He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest.
“What deal?”
Crawford takes a deep breath as if he’s been holding it in for the better part of his life.
“I want you to go back to BAU.”
“No.”
He blinks, completely caught off guard by your response. You didn’t think saying no would be that easy. He pauses before his lips form a firm line. 
“That wasn’t a request,” he says.
“Well, you can’t really force me.” You shrug your arms—not even slightly moved by the intimidating raise of his eyebrow.
“Actually, I can.”
The air around you changes. You can feel the meaning behind his threat like a heavy weight, pressing down on your skin, suffocating you. You go to breathe, but find that the air is suddenly too thin, that it’s like breathing underwater. The world around you buzzes like a lightbulb before it explodes.
You can hear the screams of your sister, her wretched sobs, her desperate begging for you to stop. The buzzing gets louder—the image of your father’s body sliding down the wall as his brains splattered over the flowery wallpaper burns alive in your mind. 
You blink once, then twice, making sure there’s no suspicion nor satisfaction on Crawford’s face. There isn’t and relief washes over you like a wave—one that’s perfect for surfing.
“You can’t.”
Crawford’s face contorts, his lips twisting into a frown. He eyes you carefully. You can tell his mind is racing, trying to come up with something to make you join his team. There’s a heavy silence between the two of you as if you could hear a pin drop. You wait carefully with your breath bated and watch your former boss, waiting to see what he’ll do.
“Do you want your sister’s case solved or not?” he taunts. So that was his leverage over you. 
It’s almost jarring to hear him mention her, to see him play this card. You take a deep breath and keep yourself calm. His thought process was on point—you had to give him that. You’d do anything for your sister and to get rid of that stormy cloud hanging over your head anytime the room was too quiet or someone dared to mention her person.
“Yes,” you agree finally, “I want her case solved.”
“Then go back to BAU. It’s your answer.”
That tone of his makes it hard not to laugh out loud. You thought it might be that simple—a yes or no, two letters of the alphabet. That didn’t apply to Jack Crawford, it seems. He wants an answer, and he will get one. A smile curls on your lips as you consider how to proceed. You’d have liked to have more leverage in terms of negotiation, but unfortunately, you have none.
“Then make me an offer worth my while.” You cross your arms over your chest and wait with a raised eyebrow.
Crawford is still the boss you know and love, albeit slightly confused by your attitude. It’s clear that this isn’t how he expected you to respond. His lips curl into a frown again, but he seems to think of something suddenly.
“I want you to join BAU as Will Graham’s partner. You’ve worked with him before, and I need you on the team,” he asserts. “I need you to look at his cases from your perspective. You will have access to all resources we have available at the bureau. That’s my offer. Take it or leave it.”
You can’t help the surprise that colors your expression now. Working with Will again, and having access to the FBI’s resources, it’s impossible to say no. Now you might have a chance against the cunning mind of Hannibal Lecter.
You don’t even hesitate as you say, “Deal.” 
Crawford’s eyes soften as he hears your answer, and you can tell he’s glad you’re not going to give him a difficult time.
“The decision is yours, then,” he says finally. Your eyes meet his. “Will you go back to BAU?” 
You nod in response, showing him the brightest of your smiles. “Absolutely.”
427 notes · View notes
swiftiesusa · 4 months
Note
could you write something based off "so high school" about Caitlin?
SO HIGH SCHOOL (C.C)
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。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
PAIRING: Caitlin Clark x fem!reader
SUMMARY: you and Caitlin are eachother’s number one supporters
WORD COUNT: 891
A/N: first fic on here!! keep sending those requests! but guys i literally wrote this on google docs and why did i kinda eat it up..
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
Everytime Caitlin has a game, you sit right where you can see her. It was tradition that neither of you wanted to break. She makes you wear her jersey to every game and can always spot you in the crowded arena. Sure, other people wear her same jersey but when you wear it, it's a different story. She calls you her ‘good luck charm’. But deep down it was more than that. It was a connection between you guys.
You and Caitlin were complete opposites. While you buried yourself in books, she lived and breathed basketball. Her life revolved around the court and it seemed like her million followers followed every move.Every game and every hoop was pure dedication to not only her sport but to you too. Despite your differences, your guy’s bond was unbreakable.
The first time you guys met you were sitting in a large library in the city of Des Moines. It was late, late for a basketball star-player to be in there at least. You were hunched over in textbooks, notes and color coordinated highlighters. Caitlin wandered in and went straight to the sports biography section. You could recognize that high ponytail and athletic build anywhere. She immediately caught your eyes peering at her but there were just silent glances with awkward smiles here and there. It seemed like you guys were the only people in there, because you were, besides the ancient librarian. You saw her stride over to your table and you looked up at her standing right in front of you.
“Hey” She started, “Is this book any good?” she flashed that smile you had gotten used to. From then on, you guys would regularly meet at that same library where that meet cute happened. Caitlin would always be dripping in sweat with a basketball by her side when she found you hunched over like you always were.
As months passed, you guys became each other's biggest supporters. You couldn’t help but be hypnotized by her. One night after her basketball practice she invited you to be away from the books and watch her shoot hoops at the outside courts. “Y/N? Can I tell you something” she sat down next to you on the metal bench and your heart raced when she spoke those words, “I always notice you, at my games, all the time.” You went a little teary eyed. Having a crush on Caitlin took you back to the times in high school where you would get so giddy after one singular interaction with your crush and it felt childish at first but it felt right.
Tonight, it was Caitlin’s biggest game of the season and getting tickets was intense but thank god you managed to get them. You sat alone, in the second row up from the court watching Caitlin warm up and shoot 3-pointers like it was nothing. Her eyes scanned the crowd and her eyes immediately landed on yours. She pointed to you and then to the ball, “This ones for you!” She mouthed and you beamed her a smile. She shot the ball and made it. You laughed at her attempt to flirt. The game was intense and at times you had to look away because you were so stressed for Caitlin. The way she moved the way her brain worked on the court left you in awe. She made every shot she threw and the announcer would make that loud announcement like “CAITLIN CLARKKKK MAKES IT IN”.
You cheered louder than anyone and everytime she made a basket or one of her teammates did she would always look for you first to make sure you were supporting her. Your voice eventually became hoarse from yelling and cheering too much but you only focused on her. The final buzzer echoed and Caitlin had led the team to victory again! Her team crowded around her but her eyes were still fixed on you. She broke away from her team after their big group hug and made her way over to you in the stands.
You put your arms out and she gave you the biggest hug. Neither cared about how sweaty she was, the hug felt like you were the only ones in that arena, besides the countless cameras that were probably on you guys. “Thank you,” you felt her say in your ear while still embracing in the hug, “For always being here. For believing in me” Your heart melted when she said those words to you. You pulled away, but not completely away, so you can look at her in her eyes. “Always.” Your voice was filled with a million emotions, “I will forever be your number one supporter, I'm so proud of you.” There was a swift moment but you both knew what you wanted.
Caitlin rested one hand on your cheek and the other on your waist and pulled you in for your long awaited kiss. It's what you've dreamed about for the last few months. She pulled away with a smile that made you melt and her eyes were shining under the bright gymnasium lights. Fingers entwined with one another, “Let's get out of here,” She grabbed your hand tightly, “I want to celebrate with you” No matter how different you guys were, she always made it feel like it was just a high school crush.
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ieatkeyboard · 8 months
Text
What Obey Me brothers do for Valentines day
Note: I have a love-hate relationship with Valentines day but it's a really cute holiday! Hope you guys have fun :] Warnings: Sappy love, fluff
Lucifer: - It's cannon he's been in many relationships so I don't think it's his first rodeo - He cleans up your room while you're at work. Washes your bedding+other laundry, makes your bed and folds your laundry, does some vacuuming. -He doesn't go through your drawers or anything just tries to make it a bit neater so you can come home and not worry about cleaning up - He gets you gifts based on things you like. If you like to make jewellery he'll get a couple kits from a hobby store to make together. If you like comfy clothes, he'll customise a set of pyjamas for you, etc. - He'll jot down notes of things you like all January. He makes sure to ask at the beginning of January what your dream Valentines day activity would be in hopes you forget about it over the month - I feel like he wouldn't ask for what he wants but he enjoys doing things together. He's a bit of a sap so he uses Valentines day to show it more. - I feel like he'd be a sucker for roses. Get him white and red roses with a little note and he'll never forget it. - He might get you some little things on Valentines day if it's on a week day and use the weekend to do more. - He'd love make dinner with you but he has your favourite restaurant on standby in case Beel walks in- - Watching movies together in his room cause his bed is bigger, taking your blankets and pillows into his room cause you're spending the night there. -He tears up a little at the end of the night, when you're sleeping in his arms. He hopes this is the most memorable Valentines day you'll ever have
Mammon: - He's a sap but in the "idk what I'm doing" way - Anything he knows about you leaves his brain - He gets you flowers and chocolate and sprays his cologne on a hoodie for you - He'll probably take you for a drive and show you all his favourite places (Spoiler. It's the places you first met, took your first date at, had all your firsts at) - He'll cry remembering how it started. how you ended up in his life and all the things you've been through - He takes you through a drive through and you eat in the parking lot. He has your shared playlist playing quietly in the background while you both talk about your days and your memories together - I feel like he wouldn't need anything. He just wants you - But if you got him a new sweater or watch he was looking at, he'd be extremely happy. - I also feel like he likes sunflowers
Leviathan: - He's never had a Valentine before, he also would be too scared to ask - He'd slip a note under your bedroom door that says "Wanna be my Valentine?" and when you agree he gets really happy but also nervous that you're kidding or are doing it out of pity - After much reassurance you set up plans together - You guys watch your favourite anime together, build the anime figurines Levi's been putting off together, play games, order food - You probably sneak out later to go walk to a convenience store to get snacks and drinks and go fuck around at a park - I think he'd buy your snacks for you and pick up a stuffy for you - He isn't overly sure what you like in the flowers and such department but he tries - I feel like he isn't a big flower person tbh
Satan: - Romantic slut man - He makes you a goody bag. He writes a love letter with references to the books you've read together, makes a kiss print sweater like the ones on tiktok (Got the idea from Asmo sending him stuff of what to do for you), got you the snacks you like, a gift card to the places you like and a lamb stuffy that reminds him of you - He likes lavender for sure - I feel like getting him a nice lavender room spray to help him relax while he reads, a cat stuffy, the book he's been dying to read but is always in use at the library and a new blanket would be perfect for him (I am absolutely projecting, and what) - Making a blanket for with him and watching the movie adaptations to the books you like is everything. Go to a cat cafe to get lunch before going shopping and putting the gift card he got you to use
Asmo: - Oh lordy lord - Bath bomb, rose petals, wine, your favourite show, the kiss print sweater but I feel like he'd do matching pants (You'll NEVER guess where he put the kisses!!!*REAL* *NOT CLICKBAIT*), spa day, a cute lunch and dinner date, SO MANY PICTURES - He wants to spoil you. Give you everything romantic he could possibly think of - He likes lilies. lilys? Idfk you get the idea - He also would love to make stuff together! I also feel like Asmo draws up a little map of all the places you had your firsts and put little Polaroid pictures of those days next to the spots - Taking him shopping and getting to go home, do a little fashion show, try all the new makeup he got one each other, make the teddy bear you got him smell like you, get him new blankets/candles/decorations for his room. He'd be so happy - I feel like as much as Valentines day is the day of love and he'd flirt a lot, he'd keep sex out of the plans (Unless you want it but than after the fact he'll complain about needing to catch up on the other plans he made lol) - He loves you for so much more than your body and especially cause he's the Avatar of lust he want to prove it's not just his sin getting in the way
Beel: - He gets you comfy clothes, snacks, and other stuff you like! If you have your ears pierced or have other piercings he'll get you cute jewellery, get you a necklace to match. If you like cats, he'll get you a sweater with cat ears and a cat stuffy - He worries about getting you flowers because if they smell good he'll want to eat them- - On the note he for sure likes edible flowers like hibiscus, rose, lavender and chamomile. I'd recommend getting him flowers in the way of getting flower flavoured things - He would appreciate ordering food from all the places you've been on dates so you can have a trip down memory lane while eating (He absolutely asked Asmo for that idea) - I feel like he'd ask his brothers and your friends for ideas cause as much as he knows you, you probably admit to like different or more stuff with friends - He asks you to show him all your favourite movies, current and childhood. He wants to know how you became the amazing person he fell in love with - He wouldn't want much for Valentines day. Candy and like I said, flower flavoured things would be enough for him. If you get him anything else please do not make it food related he will chew on it. Getting him new clothes and stuff based off his movie would make him really happy
Belphie: - Blanket, both of the fluffy and weighted variety. Cow stuffy. New sweater. -I would try and steer clear of stuff to make him sleep harder but he's a comfy kinda guy so it's hard - Star themed pyjamas and hair clips. Or bleaching his favourite constellations on a black hoodie. He'll wear it everywhere - I feel like he'd like white roses and dahlias - His ideal date would be getting food, going to the planetarium and talking, listening to music, looking at the stars, etc. And than going home and napping with his new blanket and in his new pyjamas. - He'd get you snacks, a hoodie and shorts that are your favourite colour, get you a new pillow that he'd test out first to make sure it was comfy. - And ofc he'd get you stuff you like. Your favourite perfume, stuff based on movies/shows/anime you like. - He'd get a little sappy and tell you he's so glad your still with him. That you're his
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sashiavi · 5 months
Note
Bear Shane insisting on cuddle time every day... He doesn't appreciate someone interrupting his time with you, this old man needs his naps
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BearHybrid!Shane has my heart ♡
This might have gotten out of hand- this man consumes my brain and I went o f f on a tangent - hopefully it's legible :')
Warnings : Pure Fluff | smut writer attempts fluff | BearHybrid!Shane | this could be bad- | cuddling | alludes to sex occurring - aftercare |
additional message : 18+ minors please do not follow - my blog is not a safe space for minors - thank you ♡
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Bear Shane is so soft - Literally - His body just made for big, warm, squeezing hugs. Bear Shane has filled out a little with age - and with other habits he'd cut out - Body still strong enough to lift haybales and chop hefty chunks of firewood, tough muscle hidden behind a man who eats and treats himself well.
Cuddling with him is always a treat, sweeter than molasses - and he can't keep himself off of you - You wonder if your heart beats so hard and fast from love- or if you're having a sugar rush from the deep syrupy way he whispers confessions into your ear.
"Lovin' you so much, Doll.." His voice is low, grumbling, tinged in a soft drawl unique to The Valley. Bear Shane paws over your skin in rhythmic caresses, a little clumsy with a heavy hand, and yet still sending soft shivers down your spine and to your toes never the less.
One way or another, you're always in Bear Shane's arms, in his lap, laying on his chest, always touching him in some form.
Bear Shane nestles you in his lap, reclined and relaxed in an arm chair, hand feeding you snacks you prepared together earlier while the Gridball game drones on the television. He mocks an aeroplane with a pepper popper, playfully popping it in your mouth. His thumb comes up to wipe a stray stain off sauce off of the corner of your mouth - and he licks it up with a smack of his lips. He can't help but chuckle at the face you give him, all too cute and scrunched up with faux disgust. His smile is goofy, nose nuzzling against your own, foreheads pressed together for just a moment, a sloppy wet kiss pressed to your cheek just to get another silly reaction out of you. His bear ears twitch and wiggle, following the teasing and goofy smile plastered on his face.
The hours after Bear Shane sends you into pure syrup sweet bliss in the bedroom are always the softest. After a wash and dry of your bodies, feeling soft and clean, back bundled up under the cool sheets of your bed. Bear Shane beckons you to him, big arms outstretched for you to fall into. He lays on his back, holding you to his body, watching your head rise and fall with his breathing. You can't help it- laying on his chest. Swollen pecs built from muscle and fat, skin warm, decorated in a decent sheen of dark hair- and his heart, pumping behind his ribcage, thumbing in your ear as you nuzzle and kiss him.
Yoba, the twinkle in your eye makes the moment all the more golden- glazed and sleepy dazzled in the soft lamp light, carefully brightening the room from the bedside table. You were warm, so warm on his skin, eyes warm for him, bathed in a room of warm golden light, kissed sweet in a honey glaze.
"Yer' my Sunshine," His voice is low, rasped with exhaustion and a huff of amusement, purposely saying such corny things to make your nose wrinkle for him to kiss.
Bear Shane is big on his afternoon naps. The man was tired from doing his duty on the farm; Tending to the chickens, tidying their coop with utmost care. Harvesting the tree tappers for maple syrup, trying is very best to resist just a little teeny taste of the forbidden nectre - lest you scold him for it. Last time he looked like a kicked baby cub, ears droopy, lips pouted, his teddy bear eyes eventually got him out of it. Poor Bear Shane dregs himself inside, gobbling up his afternoon lunch with you, wiping off a stray stain of muck and soot off of your cheek with a wet cloth while you wash up the dishes.
Exhaustion lays thick in his bones, he practically has to man-handle you from running out the door, coddling you up in a big bear hug. It's all giggles and smooches though, as he drags the both of you to the lounge or the bed, wrapping his thick arms around your torso and stuffing his face in the back of your neck. He can't help but place a big, wet kiss on your skin, his prickly stubble scrapping gently over the spot. His laugh is goofy, arms squeezing you tight for just a moment when you whine and visibly shiver at the sensitive tickling.
His bear ear flicks when the sound of the farm house door rasps with a knock. His thick brows furrow, lips coming to a town turned frown, exasperated when you shift to leave. He cooes a dramatic 'noooo', arms caging you in comically, rolling over, dragging you with him while you giggle and fein protest.
When you finally answer the door, the poor visitor jumps in surprise when they find a sleepy Bear Shane hanging over your shoulder, chin tucked against your neck, honey brown eyes glaring up at the intruder.
"Whadaya' want.." He grumbles, earning a soft smack on his hip. When the visitor states their business Bear Shane blissfully ignores them, using their boring droning voice to slowly doze back into your neck. He breathes in deep, savouring the subtle twinge of sweetness coming off of your skin- maybe your honey milk soap, or the pretty vanilla perfume you put on thay day- whatever it was it was golden behind his eyes, melting his heart down into syrup- strong enough to flavour anything in your life with his love.
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Was this corny? It feels corny- confession: it's been probably 8 years since I have written just fluff- go easy on me ♡ and pls lmk how I could improve if I can!
shane my love, my mess, my chunkins- my heart blooms for him~
My inbox is very very full right now- thank you for all the wonderful ideas :)) I will do my best to catch up on them ♡
Bear Shane is May-pal serrup coded
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eveningepiphany · 1 year
Text
welcome to the final show | H.S, part 3
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my masterlist!
part one and part two!
summary: harry goes over to y/ns hotel for a good old room service dinner, also getting a little tipsy on wine, while starting to blur some lines. and it’s not long before things are no longer just between the two of them.
warnings: fluff, swearing, alcohol, getting a lil wine drunk, paparazzi, being confused on if you’re falling in love or just really good friends.
a/n: i’m so excited to finally have this written for you all! i’ve had some pretty bad writers block, hence the delay in getting it to you, but thank you so much again for your support and I hope you enjoy <3
———
There’s a certain type of attatchment that comes around once and a while. It’s rare.
It’s when things start to flourish. Maybe with a hobby, a passion, or a new found person. One your brain decides to put all its focus and interest on, to the point it’s all consuming.
This one gets stuck to you like glue. Hard to shake in the sense of no matter how hard you try to ignore it, it’s all you can think about.
Losing yourself in daydreams of something or someone without even realising, until you’re reaching for anything that will bring you closer to filling that need.
That’s exactly what’s leading you to be reaching for your phone at any given point of the day.
You imagine many perceive it to be a permanent growth on your person. But you can hardly help it. Texting is a simple way to reach someone. Feel connected.
So, safe to say you’ve messaged Harry more than your own family over the course of this trip.
You’ve become attached. To Harry Styles. Again…?
Of course, being a huge fan it’s easy to say you should probably already be accustomed to this, given your level of obsession.
But this is a whole other ball game. One that is becoming like an internal battle. Your already unhealthy and predisposed infatuation paired with now a real physical connection is enough to render you useless.
You reach for your phone. Text him, your brain begs. You consider. No, stop being clingy you loser, your brain rolls her metaphorical eyes. You place the phone down. Stare at a wall. Think about him. Rinse, repeat.
Not normal, you don’t think.
However, you search for some kind of justification. That you’re just good friends, and all that shit. It’s normal to miss someone you’re friends with.
If he considers you as that.
Which you would hope since you’ve been texting him enough it would be concerning if he saw you as just some mutual of his.
You’re also sitting in a cafe, unfortunately without him right now. Eating a croissant wishing that he were here. Allowing your gaze to linger on the chair across from yourself, imagining his solid frame filling up the empty space. What he would do if you stood up and ran a hand through his hair, maybe lent down a little so you could just—
The ring of the bell atop their entrance chimes and drags you out if your dangerous and spiralling thoughts. And for some reason get excited like you’ve somehow manifested this man to walk through the cafe door by thinking of him.
Feeling silly at the nag of disappointment in your stomach as you see an ordinary bloke saunter over to the till.
Maybe one you would check out, or emit some kind of interest in before you properly met Harry. You would feel disloyal now. Like the parasocial relationship has entered an entirely new level of psychotic.
If it’s still parasocial, that is. Or if now you’re just simply a girl with very cloudy and mixed feelings about a very beautiful man.
You audibly sigh out. Eating the final bite of your admittedly delicious croissant and picking up your phone.
You type out a message, sending it before you can even think it.
I’m in a cafe right now without you and you’ve honestly ruined them for me. I miss you and your free cups of tea.
Without me? Rude.
You laugh at his quip, watching as the little bubble pops back up indicating he’s typing.
I’m out right now, but if you’re not busy later we can do something? Go out or I can come over to yours.
You pluck mindlessly at your bottom lip with your teeth, how could you say no to that?
You stress over it either way.
well, you’re very welcome to come over to my hotel room. we can order room service if you want?
To this he texts back an agreement, seemingly keen. And you realise immediately you have to tidy your room before he comes over.
You swing him the location of where you’re staying, including your room and floor number.
Thank you love, ill be there in like 3 hours say? If that works for you.
At that, you stand, because who are you if not over-prepared. And it was time to go make sure your room didn’t like a war had been waged in it when he came over for the first time.
Cant be having a bad impression, you figured.
———
You did in fact rush back to your hotel complex. Not even stopping a crepe stall you passed by, which had to be a first for you. You clean the place until it appears well-kept at the least.
And once you’re finished, you easily fall back into overthinking the whole thing. So excited, yet getting those anxious jitters like a caffeine addict 12 hours no coffee.
Which is why you decide to busy yourself with an afternoon shower. And at the time you’d still had over an hour to go.
You take of course longer than you intended, and shortly after you come out there’s a knock at your door, easily making you jump as you tug a shirt over your head. Regretting the last minute decision for a shower since now you have wet hair and probably look like a right mess.
But it’s not like you can leave him out there while you go blow dry your hair, so you rush over to the door, and tug it open.
His brows shoot up, and a smile slowly blooms on his face as he takes in your appearance.
Your hair is still near dripping, and you stand in bike shorts and a loose tshirt. The most casual he’s ever seen you. Which he loved the look on you more than he admits to himself.
“Hi darling,” he smirks, a warm feeling settling over him as he keeps his eyes on you.
“Hey, Harry.” You stand for a few moments longer, finally shuflling out of his way to let him through the door. He is adorning a white shirt and has the cutest little bandana around his neck.
“I’m sorry,” You laugh, gesturing him inside, “I was drastically overestimating how long it would take me to shower… hence why im in this state.”
He pulls a hand from behind his back, a cup being presented to you.
“Don’t be silly, y’not in a state at all.”
“You’re joking—“ You gently take the cup from his ringed hands, “Harry!”
“M’sorry, m’sorry. I saw a coffee van on the way and I couldn’t help myself.”
“Did you get one for you?”
“No, but I did have a little sip of yours.” He confesses with a quiet laugh. But he quickly busies himself with your room, padding around and peeking out the balcony window.
You take a sip, watching him examine your space. Grateful you cleaned it.
He asks you a few questions about random things in your room, and you settle yourself on the foot of your bed, cross-legged.
You didn’t really think about the lack of seating in your one man room. But this hardly bothers Harry, since he’s scoped up the room service menu from wherever he found it, and sat next to you.
“Alright… what d’we have.” He talks to himself, opening up the menu and scanning over the foods.
You discuss the options, settling on a pizza and pasta to share, because, well, you’re in Italy.
The night progresses easily as time always seems to do when you’re together, and you fake fight over the best kind of pasta sauce. But he lets you have to last slice of pizza so peace is made shortly after.
“Should we order a wine or something? T’wash the pasta down.” He suggests as the sun begins setting.
“Why not, I won’t say no to some wine.”
That gets ordered to your door, and you go from the foot of the bed to lazing at the head of it. Sipping on wine and recounting old stories, or discussing stupid topics.
“Do you think the chicken or the egg came first?” You swirl your glass around, eyes shifting to look at his side profile as he gazes at your roof.
His cute nose outlined by the warm light off the lamp, which you flicked on in the corner after it got dark.
He bursts out into a laugh, “what kind of question is that?”
“I feel like it indicates the sort of person someone is.” You shrug, smiling.
“What like it gives you an intel on my personality?”
“Something like that.” You nod, “and decides if we have to stop being friends, if you answer the wrong one.”
He grins, “Well, maybe tell me which one to pick so we don’t have to do that.”
“Awh, so you don’t want to stop being friends?” You coo, still staring at him, watching as his eyes flick from the roof over to you.
“Of course not, who else am I meant to go on cafe dates with.” He laughs.
You’re both teetering on the edge of being tipsy, and it’s evident in the way you’re both talking to one another. Borderline flirting, probably a more fitting way to describe it.
“True, because I’d be very hard to replace.” You snort with sarcasm, taking the another sip of wine.
“You would be! I love our little dates.” He smiles, the second time he’s dropped the word date in the last minute.
You’ve scooted closer to one another somehow. Shoulder to shoulder as you steal glances of his beautiful face. Maybe this was subconscious, or on purpose. But you’re drawn to him like a magnet.
“So do I…” You flush.
“I’m a little tipsy.” You clarify, breaking the searing eye contact and looking at the near-empty glass in your hand. A fourth refill would easily tip you over the edge.
He lets out a quiet laugh, “Wine gone to y’head too?”
“Mhm, and I have a track record of poor decision making when I have too much of it.” You recall the plenty of times you did the stupidest shit just because you were wine drunk. Hoping that does not happen tonight.
“Might have to see it one day.”
“One day…” you agree, but you realise that you’re not really in Italy for much longer. You have about a week and a half left now.
“I… Harry,” you turn your body to face him, and he sits up a little, noticing the almost serious tone to your voice.
“I’m leaving soon.” You blurt it out, because it’s the only topic of conversation you’ve both been steering clear of. The thing neither of you want to address because eventually this won’t be easy to do. Who knows how many miles could get out between you.
And it almost hurts you to admit yourself because… where exactly does that leave you both?
Does your contact end when you leave Italy? Do you become people who occasionally text on a bi-monthly basis?
He draws a breath, “So am I.”
You let out your own tortured sigh, turning to pop your glass on the beside table and then lean your head onto his shoulder.
Your heart jumps at the contact, and somewhere in your brain, sober Y/N lets out a gasp, because she would never have the balls to do that.
So the wine maybe was a great idea…?
He wraps an arm around your back, “I go back to London after this.”
“Second week of August as well?” You pray it’s not earlier than the start of the month, since tomorrow is literally the 1st.
“Yea, the 13th.” He nods and it’s the only tiny shred of relief you’re getting from all this. That there’s still time left.
“I fly out on the 12th.” You say quietly.
But there’s a small silence that consumes you both for the first time since you met. Because you’re kind of exasperated for options right now. What do you say to someone who is going to inevitably slip from your grip.
You shake your head at nothing in particular, moving to wrap your arms around his shoulders, since words really weren’t going to cut it.
Somewhere in his muddled brain he notes this is the second time you’ve ever initiated a hug. And he leans into it, the arm he had around your back tugging you infinitely closer.
Your cheek is pressed to his neck, and you swear you feel his lips ghosting over the top of your head.
Slowly, you pull back. And he watches you with sharp green eyes. You hold that gaze, until he’s the one that breaks it. Stifling a groan with his hand, covering his face.
You look at him quizzically.
“I like this more than I probably should.” He gestures now between the two of you.
You chuckle, a tiny flutter in your stomach announcing it’s presence.
“So we’re making the most of the time left in Italy, then?” You put forward, ready to nearly wipe your schedule clean for the man.
Which, who could blame you?
“What are y’doing tomorrow?”
“Nothing, if you’re the one asking.” You laugh, and he smiles wide at your comment.
“Oh, is that so darling?”
You roll your eyes in attempt to be convincing, “of course, you always buy me tea so…”
“Well, that decides we’re going to another cafe I suppose.” His hand reaches for his phone strewn on the quilt somewhere, pulling up google maps to find some nearby cafes.
You perch your head back onto his shoulder to watch him scroll through the options. He stumbles on a beautiful looking one, less than a 10 minute walk away. He looks to see if you approve.
He peers down to where you rest on his frame, smiling unwillingly at the sight of you. Your own eyes trailing up to meet his.
And he swears they linger on his lips. Just for a fraction of a second.
“Mh, what d’ya think.” He gets out, voice suddenly several octaves lower. Almost gravelly.
You almost audibly gulp at the sound of him. Hyperaware of his existence right now, you could nearly zone out thinking about the strength of his arm muscle that’s right now pressed against you.
“Yea… yea that looks amazing. And tomorrow, what time?” Your hands fiddle with themselves in your lap.
“How about 1, since you’re probably gonna wanna sleep in a bit.” He suggests, free hand pushing his curls from his eyes.
The way he knows you’re probably going to want to sleep in. God.
“I’m down.” (Bad)
A smile erupts over your face, and you almost forget that the clock is still ticking. That you only have so long left here.
Which ‘almost forgetting’ isn’t enough to stifle the urge to use it as some kind of yolo shit. Because that is unbelievably strong. Like why not just invite him to stay the night?
Maybe another glass of wine and you can gaslight yourself into cuddling him and just falling asleep. He wouldnt leave unless he had to, so it’s an almost flawless plan.
———
The plan infact, was flawless.
To say the least, he slept at yours. In your bed.
I mean you don’t really remember it, since you talked into the early hours of the morning and drank some more alcohol to really top it all off.
You woke up under the covers, still clutching onto Harrys side.
He was already awake, scrolling on his phone, seemingly unbothered by the fact your head had taken residency on his chest.
You take the initiative to glance at the time in the upper-right corner of his phone, a little shocked when it reads 11:47am.
You do groan at the morning light streaming in the windows immediately after seeing the time though.
“G’morning. D’ya have a headache?” He asks with what you can only assume is the end of his morning voice. Which although just a taste, is enough to send you spiralling.
It’s also around now you realise he’s stripped down into boxers— still clad in his white shirt. What the fuck!
You struggle to form a coherent response.
“Morning. A little.” Your voice comes out as a hum.
Somehow, considering you’re cuddling him right now and you literally just slept in the same bed all night, both of you outwardly are quite relaxed about it.
Nothing is awkward. It feels lovely.
“I want a croissant so bad.” You huff, sitting up, stomach growling like as if you hadn’t eaten in a whole 24 hours.
“So, you’re the kind of person that’s hungry immediately after they wake up?” He laughs, hand coming to push the locks of your bed hair out of your face.
Outside of the sheer domesticity of that (which makes you literally have heart palpitations), your hair is a proper train wreck.
The humidity in Italy has made it horrific.
“I guess I am right now?” You reply to his previous ask, combing your fingers through the locks.
“Jesus Christ.” You curse at its uncooperativeness.
“Y’know that episode of friends where Monica complains about how the humidity fucks her hair, she was so right.”
“I love friends.” He immediately gasps, nearly jolting upright in excitement.
You laugh at his enthusiastic reaction, noting that you have to somehow find time over the next week to watch an episode or two with him.
“And if it’s any consolation, I think your hair looks great.”
“Yea well, it’s not like you’d really be able to relate to the frizzy hair. Since yours look so perfect all the time.” You joke.
This evokes a genuine flush on his face, “Alright, Y/N, calm it down.”
He’s laughing but you swear he actually looks a little flustered. Without the wine as a confidence booster, he seemed like suddenly he didn’t know how to take a compliment.
Unbelievable to you since he probably gets that many a day from strangers on the street.
“I, am going to get up and get ready then, so we can go out and eat.” You state, excited to be seemingly spending the majority of the day with him.
He holds back the urge to beg you to stay in bed with him, and says something nonchalant as if he doesn’t mind you getting up. But when you pad off to the bathroom he stares at your now empty space. And immediately shivers at the lack of your body warmth, despite the already warm humid weather.
After a few trips in and out of the bathroom you come out looking beautiful. And he has to get himself up and ready to go in attempt to not overthink it.
You craved his closeness the whole time it took you to prepare for the day. Every few minutes you’d get this almost overpowering urge to just go out there and throw yourself back into his arms.
It’s borderline pathetic. But now you’ve had him in your bed, his strong arms coddled around you, it’s very hard to not to be just that. His physical presence is perfect and comforting. You’re attached to that as much as any other aspect of him.
He puts on his pants, which were folded neatly on his own bedside table, plucking out the car keys in his pocket, “Im gonna nick down to my rental car, because I have an extra button up in there, so I’ll wear that out.”
He comes back and changes into said white button up, stripping his worn shirt off and leaving it somewhere.
Just like that, you’re ready to go, and you both decide to walk the short way there. It was too nice a morning to not.
The whole walk you’re chatting away as usual. But it’s paired with this newfound physical aspect. The way you so obviously want to be close it hurts.
Yet somehow you both act like it’s nothing. That the brushes of hands and shoulder as you’re in step beside each other is a simple coincidence.
And that when you get breakfast, the two croissants and shared cookie is just a friendly thing. In your head you’re even playing off the touching all throughout breakfast.
Which sounds dirty— but just the little conversational touches. Like a hand reaching out to touch a forearm in laughter, acting as if it adds something important to the moment being shared.
Or that somehow when you leave the cafe, with two takeaway cups of tea, the hands that end up interlinked softly between the two of you is just…
Well… who even knows anymore?
Because you’re walking through italy beside Harry— who is talking about his favourite kind of playground equipment, regardless of if he’s a near thirty year old man— all while holding your hand.
And to take a moment, because it’s important, his hands are everything they’re talked up to be. Littered with chunky rings and calloused fingertips from the years of guitar playing. Yet contrasted by his soft palms, which cups yours with this delicateness it almost brings a tear to your eye.
You also pray that your own hand isn’t sweating profusely in his grasp, because you wouldn’t put a clammy hand past yourself. The already humid weather paired with your anxiety surrounding this whole situation is quite literally the match made in hell.
Nothing about this can be passed off as casual to your brain anymore. You’re literally about to implode.
But you strive to hide it. So you solider on.
“I’m a seesaw girl okay. Hear me out—“
“No, I can totally see that!” He interjects, and you chuckle at his quick agreement to your statement.
“Right? They are so much fun. And even though I nearly took a tooth out playing on one when I was 7, I can still recognise they are superior.”
To that he laughs and bumps his shoulder into yours, “I mean I love that. I’m probably a swing person, I feel like no matter the age I will always be down for it.”
You can agree that a swing is a solid second favourite for you. And as you talk about that point with him, you don’t realise you’ve walked the whole ‘scenic’ route back to your hotel until you turn the corner and the entrance is around the corner ahead. And the way you went usually takes an extra 20 minutes.
It went so fast.
“Are you gonna head off or… come back up with me?” You ask gingerly, the hand not interlaced with his fiddling with the fabric of your clothing.
“Not sick of m’yet?”
“Never…” You shake your head, smiling as he gleams at your answer.
“M’flattered. The feelings mutual love,” he chuckles, “However I do have to go remind my family I’m alive. But it’ll only take about a day until they’re pleased for me to ditch them.”
Gently runs his thumb over your knuckles, whether it be subconsciously or not, “So tomorrow night ill come back over to yours for dinner if you y’want?”
You smile, a little sappy over the way he’s working a plan out like you’re both teenagers, “Yea, thats perfect, and we can try something else off the menu.”
“Maybe, if you want,” he begins carefully, “after that you can come over to where we’re staying. Meet my mum and sister. They’ll love you.”
Now you’re nearly bursting at the seems, “Oh, I would love that, H!”
“Okay, it’s a plan then.” He agrees, pulling his keys from his pocket.
You bid your farewells for the night, unlinking hands and being left with a tingling sensation in it, one that you wonder if he’s also getting.
You go to your hotel room and feel full with joy.
He is all too sweet for this world. And you’re a little obsessed.
———
Although Italy being in Italy feels like being in a bubble, and like you’re so far away from the real world, it is unfortunately a purely mental one.
And there’s one thing about a headspace like that, and it’s just how quickly it can be popped.
At midnight that night a notification pops up on your phone, one that when you open, you have to physically put your phone down.
harryflorals:
what do i even caption this post because is that who i think it is or am i officially delusional? “HARRY WITH A FAN FROM THE LAST SHOW, HOLDING HANDS IN ITALY!” correct me if I’m wrong YALL idek anymore.
And this time, there’s no grain saving your ass. Because this was taken on what, quality wise, looks like a digital camera.
Which has made it so painstakingly obvious that it’s you. And you don’t even remember it being taken?
It was when you were walking back from the cafe, holding hands probably talking about fucking seesaws.
And everyone has caught on fast, because in the comments it’s an all out frenzy.
So, cats officially out of the bag.
———
y’all can expect a part four considering i lowkey left this on a cliffhanger 😝 so its on its way my loves
update: next part, PART 4!
taglist:
@harrystylesgirlie @purple9950 @teamspideyman @rociolunaa21 @spiritofbuddha @lemonhrry @deamus-liv @Iquvlly @kuntxrgraudunkelbunt @hsfanficsrecss @hsstylesrings @saturnheartz @victoriasigaard @lilfreakjez @mrsvxder @skxawngs @theekyliepage @hannah9921 @shiffpring @multifandomsw @roslastyles420 @slutforcoffein @kittenhere @stylesfever @butterfly-lover @daniizstyles @padf00ts-l0ver @sunflowervol18
+ all the anons who sent stuff to my submission box, thank you to you guys too, all my love
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