#that actually takes 2 seconds flat to turn on!!

[writertitan]

miss you, darling. 💞

Miss you endlessly!!! I will be back with content soon!!

#now that I have this awesome new computer #that actually takes 2 seconds flat to turn on!!

[youryanderedaddy]

Yandere! Crazy ex boyfriend

tw: female reader, non - con, heavy degradation, slut-shaming, abuse/violence, mockery of depression, suicidal ideation, obsessive behavior, death threats, dark

It's 2 a.m. and you can't sleep - you keep turning and burying your head into the soft, warm pillow, but something is off. The moon is too bright, coming in from the gap between your heavy curtains. The crickets outside are too loud, playing around and singing the same old melody over and over again. The static silence of the old radio tucked under the drawers is too repetitive, too predictable. All in all, you can feel it in your bones; something is wrong. Very, very wrong.

You hear the steps next. That sinister laughter - getting louder and louder, someone screaming at the top of their lungs, the echo flooding through the thin walls of your small shared flat. Someone's fist is gripping the lock with uneccessary cruelty as if trying to knock it out of the handle. The key falls down in one sharp motion, and your heart stops completely once the door opens with a squeaky, familiar bang - it still makes you jump even after all those months.

"Aww, baby!" The man exclaims, leaning against the door. You're not sure if you are hallucinating due to the countless hours of lost sleep, or there is actually smoke coming out of his old black trenchcoat. You're not even sure if he's trully here, or if this is yet another nightmare. "You didn't bother with locks this time!" He continues, smiling with childlike glee - but you know him too well. He's never peaceful. He's never cheerful. Any indication of happiness the monster exhibits is meant to confuse and trick his prey, and you're not falling for his tricks again. You already got burnt one too many times.

"Does that mean you missed me?" He tilts his head, almost pouting at you. He's all disheveled - a total wreck. The curly, unruly hair you once loved to caress and play with now just seems shaggy and unkept, sticking out like an explosion. His eyes are dark, well, darker, bloodshot, barely recognizable from the warm pots of honey that used to make you melt against him. He's lost weight, yet weirdly enough seems to have gained some muscle. You can't help, but think that it simply looks weird, unnatural even. Adam, the one you remember, was never strong - he was never threatening, never even raised his voice at you. But that was years ago in the sweet, distant dreams of the past, and that boy had died the moment you two moved in together. That's when your hell trully began.

"Were you trying to give me easy access, baby? Hm?" He smirks, interrupting your stream of consciousness. If you were unsure of his physicallity, of his existence, it's bright clear now - because you can never mistake that taunting, humiliating curve to his voice, the one he only uses when he's mad. Really, really mad. "Knew I would be back?"

You take a deep breath, slowly nodding along - maybe if you play nice, he'd just go away. Maybe this time you won't end up in cuts and bruises, all memories, good or bad, completely wiped off your drugged out hazy brain.

"Of course you did." Your ex boyfriend humms in satisfaction, taking a single step towards you - and it makes you tremble all over, no matter how much you wish you could remain calm and collected at the face of Death himself. "Because I told you so, no?" He clenches his teeth, raising his head so his eyes would meet yours. You feel like a deer caught before a trigger guard with an unstable trigger, one second away from being shot in the heart. "I told you-" He steps closer. "That I'll be back-" Another step. "Didn't I, princess?"

You nod again, unable to produce a sound. You almost wish he brought his gun so this little torture session would end quicker. Almost.

"Aww, look at you trying so hard to please me. It's adorable, baby." The man coos, his knee sliding across the edge of your bed. Fear takes a hold of your lungs, squeezing them in until you feel like you're seeing stars - and then Adam climbs on top of you. It all happens so quickly - one moment he's far away, and then he's towering over you, his hot breath ghosting over your sweaty neck, baby hairs sticking out with shivers. You can't shake the terrifying, unescapable feeling that you've been here before. That you somehow always end up underneath him, begging for your life - for mercy he won't ever grant you.

"I wonder where all that enthusiasm was when you decided to run on me." The white part of his eyes suddenly illuminates, brows raised together - he looks deranged. "Huh?" He looks at you, expecting an answer, yet you can't think of one. Your brain is turning to mush, consumed by raw panic - but why does it matter? Whatever you say he'll find a way to use against you. "Answer me, you fucking bitch!" He hisses, voice dropping to a diabolical whisper as his fist snaps around your throat like a metal collar. This seems to break off your stupor, and you open your mouth, ready to yell at whoever is still awake.

"Don't you dare fucking scream, cunt." Adam grips your jaw with one hand, crushing your cheeks into each other. "If I hear a single word come out of that filthy little mouth of yours, I am going to slit your fucking throat." His lips twist in a big sadistic grin you would have wanted to punch had you had the strength to move your arm around. Instead you whimper, defeated. Even after everything, your stupid self preservation instinct won't let you die - so it sacrifices the only thing you have left, your dignity. "And then in the morning your little friends will find you drowning in your own blood." He lowers his face, cold dead lips tracing the rough lines of your collarbone.

"A pretty picture for sure." He bites his lower lip, imagining it for just a second. "Bu-ut I know that even a depressed, suicidal little attention whore like you wouldn't want her friends to be sad." The man adds teasingly, and you can feel the bile back up into your stomach, burning and acidic. You may actually throw up all over him if you're not careful. And then he'd kill you for sure. "I mean, you seem to care for these pesky bugs oh-so much. It'd be a pity to force them to clean up your remains-"

"N-no, that's not true. I don't care about them, I only care about you!" You lie through your teeth, hot, salty tears pricking your eyes as you deny the love you have for the only people who care about you - the ones who basically saved you from a life of abuse and suffering. But apparently nothing good lasts, not when it comes to you. "Adam, I only love y-"

He backhands you - the slap echoes through the roof. Ouch.

"Don't say-" Your ex boyfriend grunts, roughly shoving you down. You take a shallow breath, letting the sting settle in. It's going to leave a red ugly handprint all over your cheek - and yet you stupidly thought your little confession was going to make him happy. Your anchors, the straws that used to buy you time, howerer rare and far in between, are all gone now. You used them up. You've run out of time, out of trick, out of will to keep fighting.

But you know he'll never make good on his threats. He'd never actually kill you - he doesn't love you enough to rid you of this miserable obsession that ties you together. And yet you tremble every time you feel the graze of his knife against your skin - you cower whenever he raises his hand. And you break down when he holds you close, hoping, praying that this time his embrace would prove just suffocating enough for you to stop breathing all together. It never does.

"Don't say you love me. You don't love me." Adam hisses in your ear, venom dripping off each word. "And I don't even care if you love me." He turns you around, pushing your face into your pillow - muffling your cries into weak, hiccuping sobs. "You're nothing." He swallows, averting his gaze to your lower body - yanking your shorts down with little concern as to whether they'd rip or not. "You amount to nothing, you're lower than dirt. You're just a fucked up little bitch." The man keeps mouthing off, and you can't decide what hurts more - his nails digging into your hips, or the razor sharp insults. " I never want you to forget that you deserve everything I give you."

You cry out as his massive length enters you with absolutely no preparation. It hurts - you're dry and it chaffs against your walls with nothing to make it slide freely, bruising your cervix. Your muscles are trying to push the foregin object out, but it keeps pushing in and out of you in forceful uniform thrusts. Between the waves of sharp and stinging-hot pain you manage to form a coherent thought - and you're surprised. Surprised that the man is even able to stay hard when all he feels right now is anger. Not love or affection, not even lust. Just anger. Surprised your body is still going even after your mind has given up. Surprised that, even despite all your protests and agony, you are growing used to this.

"I gave you everything." Adam start off again, picking up the pace of his thrusts. "Everything - but you're too much of a selfish whore to see." He pulls your hair back so you'd face him from beneath - then he slaps you with all force. "I want to mess up that pretty little face of yours." His hand connects to your cheek once again. You know you'll wake up all puffy and blue tomorrow morning - if you even wake up. "I want you so goddamn ugly no one wants you anymore." He pulls you in by your shirt, smashing his lips against yours with a brutal force - as if he's trying to become one with you, and break your face at the same time. "I want you so ruined-" He kisses you again, teeth running into teeth - yet he's the one to bite you first. "And lonely that you have no one else to turn to."

"I want you broken." He pulls away just to stare into your empty eyes, voice now back to a whisper. "As broken as me."

#yandere #yancore #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere oneshot #yandere x you #yandere male x reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere smut

[rafeandonlyrafe]

baby shoes

words: 2.3k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, best friend!rafe, childhood friends to lovers, pretty fluffy :), p in v sex, unprotected smut, breeding!, pregnancy kink?, no actual sex while pregnant but lots of like. bump descriptions?

rafe rolls his eyes as you let out a squeal, already knowing what is happening.

“oh. my. god.” you pick up the baby shoes off the shelf, a pair of sparkly flats with the cutest flower straps you've ever seen. “rafe, they're so tiny!”

you hold them up for him to look at as if he's never seen baby shoes before, despite you pointing them out to him every time you're out shopping together.

“yeah, real cute.” he says, keeping his voice completely monotone.

“rafe, don't be so sour.” you pout at him. your friendship is an unexpected one. started in kindergarten and has only grown closer since, your sweet nature in contrast to rafes hard exterior.

“y/n.” rafe sighs, taking the baby shoes from your hands as he sets them back on the shelf. “we look at baby shoes and onesies every time we go to target. i brought you here to buy you a pair of boots, let's go.”

rafe tries to usher you down the aisle. despite you also being a kook he refuses to let you (or, really, your parents credit card) pay for anything.

you nod and continue to the women's section when you cross by a pair of ugg boots made for toddlers and stop in your tracks. “raaaafe!” you coo.

--

look how cute this baby is rafey

“are you serious?” rafe questions reading your text message. “im laying right next to you.”

“too much work to roll over and show you.” you shrug, both scrolling on your phones, having just gotten back from a long day. so long rafe insisted you slept at his because it was closer. only one block closer, but you didn't argue. rafes bed is also yours, and yours his. you've always shared, no need to change now just because you're older.

“that baby isn't even that cute.” rafe huffs out.

you turn over now, rolling onto your stomach to glare at him. “rafe cameron, you are such a dick!”

“oh, so you'll roll over to yell at me?” rafe questions, a smile on his face. usually he wouldn't take shit from anyone, but you're not just anyone to him.

“yes because you deserve it asshole. that baby is adorable.”

“yours would be way cuter.” rafe grins, knowing how flustered you get talking about having a child of your own.

“okay, true.” 

--

“what the fuck is going on?” rafe questions, his mouth literally dropping as he walks in.

“oh my god!” you squeal. “you told me you were coming over at 2, you idiot!” 

rafe looks at the time on your alarm clock. 1:55. rafe may have not knocked before letting himself in, but he figured it was fine. 

“what are you wearing?”

“it's… it's a fake pregnancy belly. my friend carly who works with the school plays said they were getting rid of it bc it was getting old… and i asked to have it.” you shrug, your embarrassment melting away the longer you talk about it.

“why would you want that?” rafe questions.

“i just wanted to see what id look like.” you shrug, turning again to look at yourself in the mirror, running your hands over the tshirt stretching around the plastic material. “i think i look cute.”

rafes eyes are on the round swell of your belly. he thinks you look more than cute, he thinks you look so ravishing he wants to make that belly real right this second.

“gonna take a shower.” rafe makes a turn towards your bathroom before you can argue, saving himself by locking the door behind him.

-- 

“why are you in a mood?” rafe just entered your house but he can already tell from the look on your face that something has upset you.

“freaking kelsey is pregnant.” you spit her name out like it's an insult. she's been your sworn moral enemy ever since she “dated” rafe in the fourth grade and told him he had to choose between staying friends with you or dating her. he chose staying friends of course, but you've despised her anyways since.

“okay…” rafe waits for more reasoning to you being so upset.

“that should be me.” you whine, not ashamed as you throw a little tantrum, stomping your feet on the ground.

“it can be.” rafe shrugs.

“huh?” you question, plopping back on the couch behind you, waiting for rafe to join you for movie night.

“you're not a kid anymore, y/n. you're 21. have a baby if you want.” rafe simply states.

“i- who would i even have a baby with? im single.” you've been single a majority of your life. there were flings in high school, but no one that lasted.

what you don't know if rafe contributed heavily to those relationships ending. he had staked his claim on you, and no guy was worthy in his eyes.

“id help you raise a baby.” rafe says without really thinking, sitting down on the couch next to you, not flinching as you turn to place your feet on his lap, always wanting to stretch out and get comfortable.

“you would?”

“im with you all the time anyways.” rafe nods. “if you had a baby id basically be their dad anyways.”

“id want that.” you admit. “you're the only guy out there i trust enough to get me pregnant.” you're not really thinking about your words themselves as you press your fingers to your stomach, imagining it filled up with a baby, with rafes baby.

“alright, we gotta talk about something else.” rafe shifts on the couch, pushing your feet off his lap to turn himself slightly away from you.

“wait why?” you question, sitting forward.

“just… change the subject.” rafe takes a deep breath, trying to calm down the boner that is growing in his pants.

“no, tell me!” you move closer, which only makes rafe turn away more. “tell me, rafey!”

he's never kept anything from you, and shockingly you can't figure out why he's behaving like this now.

“jesus, stop!” rafe scooches away when you grab onto his arm, trying to get him to face you, to look at you.

“tell me!” you complain again.

“because im fucking hard okay!” rafe shouts, standing up from the couch. “it's getting me fucking hard thinking about getting you pregnant so change the fucking subject!”

you sit on the couch in shock, eyes wide open. you know you shouldn't, he's your best friend after all, but you find your eyes moving lower, and sure enough, the front of rafes pants and tented, cock pushing away from his body.

“i-i-” you stammer.

“you nothing. okay? we forget this happened. just stop talking about getting fucking pregnant and stop talking about me being the one to do it.”

“but i want it to be you.” you blink up at rafe, head suddenly clearing. you do want it or be rafe. he's the only one who should be waking up in the middle of the night with you when your baby cries. he's the one you want to experience every milestone with. he's the one you want filling you up over and over until your tummy starts to swell.

“we can't go back.” rafe says, his tone suddenly serious. “we can't go back to just friends.”

“i know.” it's all you need to say for rafe to surge forward, dropping his knees to the floor as he kisses you, mouth easily dominating yours. you let out a soft moan as his hands cup your jaw, keeping you close even though you press yourself into him, hands fisted in his shirt.

“let me have you.” rafe pants against your mouth. “i need you. let me fill you up.”

“yes.” you nod. “yes, please. take your clothes off.”

you don't care that you're in the middle of your living room, you immediately tug your shirt off over your head, bearing your breasts to him. rafe knew you never wore a bra when in your own home, but seeing your bare tits is still a shock.

he doesn't even take his shirt off despite you tugging at it, cupping your chest as he leans in, mouth wrapping around your nipple.

“oh my god!” you squeal, fisting your hands in rafes hair, holding him close to your body as his tongue flicks over your nipple, hardening it quickly.

“i… im sorry baby i need to get inside of you.” rafe feels crude, tugging at your shorts to pull them down your legs, tossing them away.

“i need you too.” there will be plenty of time now that you've admitted feelings for each other to take your time, to go slow and learn each other's bodies.

rafe stands up, looking down at you in just your underwear, eyes glassy with lust as he pulls his shirt off, followed by him tugging his pants down, finally getting your eyes off his face as your eyes move down. you reach forward, hand rubbing over rafes length, annoyed that the fabric of his underwear is not allowing you to see him properly.

“fuck, stop.” rafe takes a step back. “im supposed to cum in you. get you pregnant. you're gonna make me bust.”

you smile, flattered that your simple touch can cause him to almost lose it.

“where do you want me.” you whisper. you aren't a virgin but you certainly aren't as experienced as rafe. while you know he partakes in hookups at parties you don't attend, you were never interested in sleeping around just for the sake of sleeping around.

“just lay back, baby.” rafe let's out a huff as you turn from sitting on the couch to laying down, your breasts falling beautifully as you wait for him to make the next move. “let's get these off.” rafe pulls your underwear down, but you keep your legs together to hide yourself for a little longer.

rafe shucks his underwear off next, praying his throbbing erection doesn't cause him to cum the second he gets inside of you.

you let out a low moan just from the both of you being naked. “gonna kneel down. wrap your leg around me.” rafe helps position you, spreading your legs as his eyes take in your wet cunt, pretty and perfect as he wraps your knee around his hips as he sinks himself down, moving to drape his body over yours.

“ill go slow.” rafe says, hoping he can stay true to his word as he reaches down, running his cock briefly through your folds, obsessed with the way your expression changed into one of pure pleasure.

“okay, just at first.” you nod. you need slow to open you up, to stretch your walls to allow rafes size, but you dont want it to stay slow, needing to feel him pound into you, make a mess of your cunt.

rafe sinks in with a gasp as your tightness and warmth envelops him. “fuck.” he mutters out, eyes squeezing closed as he inserts himself until he’s fully buried inside you pussy.

“feels real good rafey.” you pout. “cant believe we didn’t do this sooner. could already have a baby by now.” “oh, im gonna give you plenty.” rafe bends down to kiss you, letting himself get lost in the kiss, focusing on your mouth against his to distract from his throbbing cock.

“move.” you gasp, starting to grind your hips. “move.”

its all rafe needs to start smashing his hips back and forth, rocking into you in a steady but fast motion, aiming every time to get his cock as deep inside of you as possible.

“yes, yes!” you squeal, hands gripping his shoulders. as good as rafe thrusting into you feels, you want his cum more than anything. you begin to squeeze your pussy around him every time he pulls out before thrusting back in, and you can tell from the way rafes mouth hangs open that he likes it.

“fuck, im already close, sorry.” rafe has never had a problem cumming too early with anyone else, but hes never been with you, his best friend who he’s been head over heels for since kindergarten, who is begging to have him put a baby in your womb.

“cum in me. please.” you don’t even care about your own orgasm. you don’t even want it, already feeling so overwhelmed from the way rafes cock swells inside of you.

your eyebrows raise when you realize what the warmth spreading inside of you is, never having let a man take you without a condom. you let out a moan to match rafes as he cums, flooding your insides as he grinds into you. 

you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down onto you, not caring about the weight as you squeeze your cunt, milking any last drops out of him.

--

“oh my god, i’m gonna cry its so cute.” tears brim in your eyes as you look at your finished nursery, rafe having done the last of the decorations when you were napping, putting the final touches on.

“you're so cute.” he hums, wrapping his arms around you as he stands behind you, also looking over the room. 

“thank you. its perfect.” you sniffle.

“you’re perfect.” rafe has been overwhelming you with compliments lately, wanting to make sure that you know he is still very much attracted to you with your pregnant belly. “and beautiful. and hot. and sexy.” “oh, stop it.” you roll your eyes with a giggle, turning to face rafe.

“it would be inappropriate to have sex in our babies nursery, wouldn’t it?” despite the baby not even being here yet, rafe looks around the former guest bedroom and realizes that it simply wouldn’t be right.

“you’re not getting me on the floor anyways.” you press your hands to your stomach. seven months along with rafes baby.

“probably for the best.” rafe places his hand on your back, leading you out of the nursery and towards your bed. “wanna eat you out on our bed anyways, mamas.”

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[brainrot-of-a-thot]

just like putty.

or, how to instantly reduce them to a cataclysmic state of horny, featuring: hayato suo, hajime umemiya, sakura haruka

c/w: fairly explicit content, no actual sex but very spicy content, erogenous zones/turn-ons, language, fem!reader, size kink (umemiya), praise kink (sakura), sensory kink (suo)

a/n: these are merely headcanons that I myself harbor; they are by no means true. also, if you don’t like this content, please don’t interact with it. can you tell I’m deep in WB brainrot rn?

if you want to see the cool, calm, collected hayato suo lose it entirely, all you have to do is play with his ears. that’s it.

suo’s ears are extremely sensitive — a simple whisper into one of them and his body is reacting instantly; don’t even get me started on how he reacts if you fiddle with his earrings (it’s truly something to see).

simply slip into his lap and ravage his ears with a barrage of licks and nips — inside, outside, all over; and don’t forget to tease the metal inside his lobe with the tip of your tongue, and pull very gently on the tassels every once in awhile. that combination has him hard as a rock in seconds flat. suck his earlobe directly into your mouth and tongue the bead of his earring and he’s gone; his skin will turn hellishly feverish, his moans will drop non-stop from his lips, and he’ll start bucking his hips up into you, chasing the sweet friction of your clothed cunt, all whilst chants of “please, please, please” fall unbidden from his throat.

he becomes so desperate, so sensitive, so irrationally horny that it takes everything in him to stop himself from coming from the mixed stimulation of your mouth on his ear and your core grinding against his hard-on. oh, and be sure to moan directly into his ear while he’s doing it, whisper absolute filth into it and trust me, hayato suo will be wrapped around your finger entirely.

sit in his lap. no questions, no explanation, no reason for it — just do it.

no matter the time or place, or the situation, the second your bottom meets his lap he’s at half-mast and rearing to go. there’s something just so incredibly delicious about feeling your ass against him, even if it’s in a non-sexual setting.

but when you do indulge it in private, do yourself a favor; press your back flush against his chest with your ass pushed directly into his crotch, lean your head back on his shoulder and wrap his arms around your middle. hajime umemiya’s mind will literally short-circuit then re-wire itself with only one thing front and center — you and your body. from the position, you’ll have the leverage to feel the velocity at which his dick hardens; and boy, is it fast.

there’s just something about umemiya encasing your body with his own that sets him off. the difference in size between the two of you is so much more obvious like that, when his arms are wrapped around you and your hips could be caged by his thighs. you’re just so tiny and delicate compared to him, and it’s way too stimulating. it makes him want to protect you and break you at the same time.

oh, and be sure to slide a hand over his nape and pull him down to kiss you — and, if you aren’t too shy, make it sloppy. use your tongue to massage his lips, around his lips, slip it inside when he welcomes you, and be vocal too. it absolutely drives him insane. and if you add the little cherry on top by slipping your fingers into the hair at the base of his neck, be prepared to be fucked into the next dimension in .2 seconds.

praise him. that’s all there is to it.

sakura haruka has a hard enough time with praise in public, but it’s for an entirely different reason than when he struggles with it in private.

for him, all it takes is one simple positive affirmation to have his blood flowing south; even something as mundane as telling him he did good on patrol.

he’s so unaccustomed to praise that it’s a bit of a shocker at first, when in the middle of a heated make-out session you had pulled away to tell him how good he was at it, and he went from half-hard to rock-hard in less than a millisecond — and of course, you’d noticed it to, so of course you’d exploit that.

“you’re doing so good, sakura. you learn so well.”

“you taste like heaven, sakura.”

“oh — you’re so big.”

he’s a blushing, mumbling, trembling mess, so horny that it’s nearly impossible to contain it. he just wants to hear more praises, wants you to shower him with them, wants you to never stop doing it. he wants to watch you use his dick and hear all those sweet compliments fall from your mouth.

sakura haruka just wants to be a good boy — and he wants you to verbally affirm that he is. it encourages/drives/fuels him like nothing else.

#wind breaker x reader #windbreaker #windbreaker x reader #wind breaker #hajime umemiya x reader #haruka sakura x reader #hayato suo #hayato suo x reader

[logansargeantsbabymom]

GIRL YOUR NEW LEWIS STORY????? HELLO??? WHY ITS SO GOOD???PLS CONTINUE????

ask and you shall receive. ENJOYYYYYYY🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🎀🎀🎀🎀

ladies and gentlemen I present to you,

Pillowtalk

Lewis Hamilton x Fem!Reader

part 1 I

Warnings: Smut, Oral, Overstimulation, Light Slapping, Squirting,

Once both Lewis and I found out that I was capable of squirting he’s been doing anything he can to get me to do it again.

He’s fucked me in so many positions trying to get me to squirt again. Missionary, Doggy, Cowgirl, Reserve Cowgirl, The Pretzel, I mean we’ve done it all and each orgasm wasn’t the one Lewis was hoping for.

“Lew, Puh-Please, I can’t take this anymore. I’m so sore” I whimpered against his lips, my thighs shaking with such force I looked like I was trying to win a twerk off.

“We’re not done until I pull another squirting orgasm from you darling” the look in Lewis’ eyes told me that he in fact was not lying and that he would actually stay here all night until he was able to pull another out of me.

We’d been in the Hot Seat position for the last almost 10 minutes and Lewis was hoping that this new position would be a game changer in terms of making me squirt again. The one hand that Lewis had resting flat against my stomach traveled down to my clit, rubbing harsh and fast circles around the already swollen and already overstimulated bud.

I honestly lost count of how many orgasms I’ve had today from the last 2 positions alone, imagine how many more Lewis is gonna pull out of me as he continues to to find what made me explode.

“You gonna tell me how I got you to squirt or are you really gonna make me fuck you every single way until I get that reaction again?”

I dont know how I did it, really, it just kinda happened. It couldn’t have been the overstimulation, I’ve been overstimulated I don’t know how many times in the last 45 minutes. Was it the handcuffs? Maybe, that had been the first time I’ve been handcuffed. Or was it the fact that I was helpless while Lewis provided himself his own pleasure?

“Mmm d’know”

“Or was it when I had you cuffed up and helpless?” a moan escapes past my lips “Do you want to try that again? Hmm, wanna get locked up again?” a breathless ‘yes’ escapes past my lips.

With that, Lewis recuffs my wrists to the handcuffs that he left hanging from the bed posts. A look of adoration and lust filled Lewis’ eyes as he stared at me. I was helpless, naked and aching for him. I watched as Lewis’ eyes raked my whole body before ultimately landing on my core and he watched as my pussy leaked for him in anticipation.

“I can see your pussy dripping for me. This must be what made you tick, you like being helpless” My pussy clenched around nothing. Something about his words did something to me. “I’m gonna eat you out again, okay princess” Lewis stared in my eyes, not moving a muscle until he got a response and my subtle nod was enough clarification for him.

Without warning Lewis licked a stripe up my slit, circling my clit before sliding down and into my whole. Lewis repeats this motion a few times before he places a soft kiss on my bud and stops. My hands instinctively go to push his head back down given that I was close to my 12th orgasm tonight, god knows how many more I can take before I actually die from pleasure.

“Don’t want me to stop, do you?” A muffled ‘no’ escapes my lips, the muffled noises I made quickly turned into a mess of moans as I feel 2 fingers insert me.

Lewis’ fingers are long and girthy enough to hurt for a second as they were thrusted into me. Lewis sets a decent pace as he leans up to kiss my lips

“Please, never stop. feels s’good” the second those words left my mouth Lewis did in fact stop. A whimper left my lips at the sudden loss of contact but Lewis quickly caught me up to speed on what was going on in his head.

“S’okay darling, I’m just grabbing some more stuff for us to have fun with.” I watched intently as he walked right back to the bed side table, opening the drawer pulling out a blindfold, vibrator and a cock ring. Walking back over to the bed Lewis quickly pulled the blindfold over my eyes, placing the cock ring on himself after setting it to a medium fast pace and placing the bigger vibrator on the highest setting, slowly placing light touches of my body with it as it send small electrical bolts all throughout my body.

Lewis first started off by placing the big vibrator against the skin under my collarbone and he watched as my body tensed at the feeling. He let it rest there for a second before slowly bringing it down to the valley between my breasts, slowly gliding it over one of my nipples while his mouth attached to the other, tongue circling around the bud of my nipple.

Having one of my senses taken from me meant that my others heightened. Lewis' touch sent me into a frenzy before losing my vision. Now? My god, I was gonna explode at any second due to the vibrating against my breasts. A pathetic string of moans and whimpers leave my lips as Lewis keeps sucking on my nipples, the hand that was previously circling the drags the vibrator down to my aching clit. The vibrations bringing me close to the orgasm Lewis left me hanging with and the way my body jolted, he knew I was close which prompted him to attack my pussy with his mouth.

Everything was too much for poor old oversensitive me. Too much pleasure, too much pain, my nerves were going into overdrive “Lewis, please. I’m gonna c-cum, fuck fuck fuck fuckkkkkk” my body shook with my 13th orgasm. This time, it was the squirting orgasm Lewis was begging for. When I started squirting, something snapped inside Lewis and he opened his mouth that was already by my pussy. He collected my pussy juices before spitting out some and swallowing the rest.

“Fuck, Darling. You taste s’good. I love every bit of you, mmmm.” Lewis murmured as he continues to work me through this high. His lips attack my pussy again as he murmurs more things about how good I taste and how he could never get enough of me. My body shook as my legs encase his head between them.

Lewis’ mouth attacking my pussy was brief because after a few laps of his tongue on my already sensitive clit, he grabs my thighs that were trapping him and forced them open before aggressively thrusting his rock hard and aching cock in me.

My hands instinctively reach for the blindfold so I can see him as he relentlessly fucks my pussy at such a pace I was sure the whole neighborhood knew we were fucking. The bed moves inch by inch with each thrust and squeak of the bed.

At this point I had tears streaming down my face, I was losing my voice by how much I was screaming out his name and moaning in pleasure, my body was littered with so many hickeys it looked like I was found in a huge pile of snow and had major frostbite.

I can tell Lewis is getting close to his orgasm by the way his hips faltered and the grip he had on my waist.

“Mmm let me see your pretty face as you cum again.” his one hand goes to reach for the keys to undo my cuffs “you like my cock buried deep inside you, don’t you?”

The second my hands were set free, I ripped off the blindfold and my body reached behind his to pull him closer to me.

“Harder Lew, fuckkk I’m gonna cum. fuck fuck please i’m cumming.” I squirted again. Harder this time. Lewis only lasted a few more thrusts before he spilled his cum inside of my cunt.

“Fuckkkk, mmm you feel s’good. such a slut for me, my beautiful baby.” Lewis fucked me through both of our highs before he plopped his body down on mine as we both tried to catch our breath, his cock still buried deep inside my pussy.

Lewis pulled out of me before he flipped me around so we were cuddling.

“goodnight beautiful, we have a LONG morning awaiting us”

taglist

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal @kazza72584 @zabwlky1999

#charles leclerc #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #lando norris #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton smut #lewis44hamilton #lando norris smut #smut #george russell #f1 imagine #f1 smau

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 28] || [Chapter 30]

Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.2K~ cw: illness, injuries, hurt/comfort, fluff Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: they're very sick... poor babies

Chapter 29: Taking Turns

The next couple of days were rough. 

Between:

Kyle unable to bend down or stand straight for too long before his hip protested;

John unable to stretch himself in any direction due to his lower back hurting;

Johnny limping from his knee and with an arm on a sling;

and Simon having… not quite the flu but something? and getting dizziness spells every time he moved…

You haven’t gotten any proper rest either and have been running back and forth trying to help care for all of them.

They try their best to help, really… But the amount of groans, winces, and strained voices you hear whenever Kyle tries to make you all food, John tries to bend down to help with laundry, Simon tries to sweep, or Johnny tries to do anything two-handed… It’s hard.

Your flat suddenly feels too small for them, for you. 

Haven’t slept in your bed the whole weekend… But hey, at least you get to cuddle Simon all night every night. He’s like your own heater…

It comes to a head on Monday morning. You’ve gotta get to work… It hurts you to leave them like that, all alone, all day, in the state they’re in.

“So… there’s the spare key-” You handed the spare to John who had tried his best to be up with you for breakfast, leaning himself on the wall by the front door as you talk in hushed tones, Simon sleeping barely a couple feet away on the couch, actually getting rest.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be fine-”

“John…” You murmured as you looked up at him, your face showing nothing if not a deadpan inquiry. “You’re all dying.”

“We’re not dying. We were but we’re doing so much better after having you dote on us all weekend, darling.” He replied with a playful smile, which was cut through by a little wince that made his blue eyes press shut.

“Right.” You retorted and rolled your eyes. “Because you’ve gotten so much better, huh?” You taunted and shook your head.

“It’s fine… we’ve got… 3 or so functioning pairs of legs, 2 spines, 3 and a half pairs of arms and 3 working heads…” He trailed off, humourously listing the unaffected parts of their ailments.

“Ah yes… And somehow none of you are functional at all.” You teased again, smiling playfully, receiving a sigh and a conceding in the shape of an eye roll from him.

“Anyways,” You told him as you cupped his face. “You get back to bed… And try not to die, all of you. This flat isn’t mine, I don’t think you should die in here.” You added.

“Copy that.” John nodded with a chuckle which drew another wince from him. He kissed your forehead lightly then limped his way back to bed.

-

You had just gone on your lunch break when you shot the lads a message to check on their state:

you: how r u all doing? 👀

By the time you came back from lunch, you hadn’t gotten a reply to your text… And normally that wouldn’t worry you…

If it weren’t for the fact they’re bunked down in your flat because they’re all injured or sick.

You went back to work with your phone in your pocket, patiently waiting a text from them… 

you: pls tell me ur alive

Even with that message, it still took another hour and a half for an answer to come.

You were about to jump ship and go home early by then, when Johnny answered you.

Johnny: souo you: what? Johnny: soup Johnny: [1 Video Attachment]

The video you got was not one you expected. 

Firstly, it was a very zoomed in 10 seconds of one of your metal pots with a heeping quantity of chicken noodle soup boiling in it.

Then, the camera panned over to display Kyle, John and Simon sprawled on the couch, head’s dangling back over the edge, snoring away.

“We made soup… bonnie.” Johnny said from behind the camera, his voice groggy and dragging, a consequence of the strong painkillers he had been taking for the last 3 days after his gunshot.

“Gonna have seconds… it’s so good…” He announced in a conspiratory tone and shushed the video before he finished the video.

How they managed to force themselves to stand up and stay awake long enough to cook a whole pot worth of soup, you have no idea. 

But, hey, at least they were alive. And that eased your worries.

And so, you got back to work, finishing your work day.

Coming back to work, you were surprised to find the flat in a similar state as when you left, which was surprising considering you expected a mess of dishes and food left for you to clean.

The boys had also moved from the couch and to the bedroom, their snores and heavy breaths coming from down the hall, as well as the sound of the shower running.

You closed the door carefully behind yourself, took off your shoes and padded over to the kitchen with the little shopping bag worth of things you bought after work.

Just as you’re about to start putting things in the fridge and cupboards, a figure show up at the kitchen door, making you jump a bit and huff a breath of surprise.

Turning to look at him, eyes wide and startled, you come face-to-face with a glistening wet Kyle wrapped in your last clean towel. There you go, needing to do more laundry again.

“Hi, Kyle… Didn’t hear you come in.” You admitted with a smile as you looked at him.

“Hey, lovie… How was work?” He murmured as he approached you and kissed you softly on the forehead. He certainly seemed a bit more mobile than yesterday when you put him to bed.

“It was good… I see you boys made yourselves right at home, huh?” You gestured vaguely to the pot of soup on the back of the stove, lidded to keep for later.

“Yeah… John had the idea… Sent Soap to the shops to get the chicken and the carrot and all…” He trailed off as he nuzzled himself against you, an arm wrapped around your waist as he rubbed his nose against the crown of your head.

“I see… He was able to carry everything one handed?” You asked playfully, earning a chuckle from Kyle. 

“Surprisingly yes…” He trailed off and smiled as he lowered his head to steal a soft peck from your lips.

“What about cooking? Who did that?” You asked playfully as you returned the kiss, then, slipped away from his arm wrapped around you. You resumed putting things away in the cupboards and fridge.

“We took turns…” Kyle admitted a bit sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “Every 10 minutes we’d switch spots with each other and sit on the couch…” He trailed off and chuckled. 

“I see… I can imagine how that went… the four of you lot wobbling back and forth between the kitchen and the sofa… leaning your head on the cupboard because of the pain while you TRIED to shred chicken and stir the soup and all?” You joked.

“It was miserable… But the soup’s really good…” Kyle admitted.

“Yeah, bet it is… Johnny sent me a text about it…” You added with a chuckle. “Now how about you dry yourself up and get dressed before you catch something, hm?”

“Or you could warm me up instead…” Kyle quipped and winked at you.

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

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @cod-z , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @xxshadowbabexx

@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

#ikea writes 💚 #it's a match! fic #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #text story #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #141 x reader

[primrosebow]

YES PLEASE, part 2 😻 I would also LOVE to see his legs spread for us... Or maybe we forcefully spread them :3 either way I love you're art it's so hot, Lucifer's so hot. Just NEED to manhandle him 😞

-💌 anon (idk if that's been used, if so then 🐕 anon)

AH! MY KNIGHT! YOU WILL BE REWARDED HANDSOMELY FOR YOUR COURAGE IN STEPPING INTO MY INBOX!

_-->Lucifer x reader // pt 2🍎

//

!content warnings!: nsfw, edging (AAAHAHAHAA!!!! THE FIRST KINK NAME THAT I ACTUALLY FIGURED OUT! it's pretty self explanatory, but I'm proud of me so shut) probably other kinks but, again, nun. andddd a wee lil more writing compared to my other posts

Shoutout to 💌 anon‼️‼️

//

//

The air is thick with tension as lucifer catches his breath, tears running down his now hot face. He's completly oblivious to the atmosphere, however- he's too deep in pleasure to even realize what he'd just done.

You had explicitly told him not to cum, going as far as edging him for the last few minutes, but, of course he couldn't keep it down, in the same way he hadn't lowered his teasing, which was the exact behavior that had gotten him into this predicament. You see; Lucifer is honestly one of the best you could have ever dreamt for, wealthy, stunningly gorgeous, funny, patient- wait. Scratch that last part. He's not patient at all. When he wants something, he'll do whatever it takes to get it. And that time, it was to get you to have him as you pleased.

You honestly didn't know what had gotten into him, he'd been teasing you for the last several days with no signs of giving up -what was his goal with this?- you thought, whenever he'd litter kisses along your neck and imediatelly turn around and speed off to do god knows what. Whenever he'd lay on your lap and arch into you, displaying his body for you, only to turn around and act like nothing happened within a split second, even touching your sensitive spots and acting oblivious. Whenever- actually, you could go on all day long. And right now, he'd finally realized what he did.

His expression flows from one of relief into one of guilt. He turns his head from you, snapping his eyes down to your hand over his still painfully hard dick before dragging them back up when the sight alone had made him twitch in your hands.

His thighs had been strongly pressed against your arm before you used your other hand to make Lucifer look at you. He looked frustrated, ashamed, confused- why all of that? Because this wasn't the outcome he expected. He thought you'd have your way with him, bend him over the nearest flat surface and fuck him out of his mind, he thought you'd overstimulate him until he couldn't think of another thing other than the sting of his drawn out pleasure, thought you'd be rough with him.

But no, you were gentle.

With your actions, at least. Your words were pure venom. "You want to get treated like some desperate slut, huh?" "You look down on those sinners but you're no fucking better." "You're already drooling? My god you're pathetic." "You haven't earned my touch- much less the right to cum. You've been nothing but an inconvenience, you're lucky I'm even doing this" as you so gently jerked him off with the most delicate touches, holding his hand, ghosting your lips over his neck and moved the hair out of his face. The juxtaposition from the two extremes of your words and actions drove him insane- he just couldn't deal with it, you were tearing down his whole being by the second- and eventually, he couldn't hold himself anymore.

You don't spare him a word as you push his legs apart and watch them tremble to stay open for you as rushed apologies and poor excuses left his mouth. Before he could continue with his apologies, you roughly rub your fingers over his tip, earning a broken, fucked out moan from him, his tail a dead giveaway of his enjoyment of the new treatment.

"Is this what you wanted?" Was your unamused response. You kept going at the much rougher pace you had just now set, his eyes fought to remain open as more tears flow out of his red, glowing eyes; he wasn't prepared for such intensity after what you had put him through "aah- mh- w-wait -oh goodness- please! Have mercy!" His pleading falls on deaf ears as you continue at your current movement. The king of hell had his pride completly broken, and you weren't even close to being done with him.

Ah, seems like the two of you have a long night ahead of you

//

//

I just found out about weevils I am not the same woman I was 10 minutes ago. I love these stupid little guys. I love them so much. I love weevils.

Sorry for dying I'm back tho with like a truckload of stuff in mind to tell yall abt. Also I don't proofread or anything this is like as raw as it gets.

Ermm @ ing @bigfatbimbo because this mf into lucifer FOR REAL💪💪

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #💌 anon＼(^^)／ #gee golly #I could go for some guaraná right now #whatevzzzz.... it is what it is #here's the slop for 2nite guyze

[thankskenpenders]

Sonic Prime Season 3: Final episodes, final thoughts

Well, here we are. The final seven episodes of Sonic Prime are out on Netflix, concluding the story of Sonic's adventures in the Shatterverse. I've previously shared my thoughts on the first and second seasons, which I was pretty mixed on, but there were still glimmers of hope. The fluid animation, Shadow being fun in all his appearances, Nine being fairly interesting as a jaded alternate version of Tails, etc. There was enough to make me believe that after some highs and lows there was still the possibility that this show could end on a high note - or at least a decent note.

This did not happen.

Sonic Prime's final season sucks. The ending sucks, and the road to get there sucks. It's left me wondering what the point of all this even was. There are still moments I like that I'll try to highlight, and the animators and voice cast are still clearly giving it their all, but these efforts sadly don't outweigh the overwhelming mediocrity of the story. I would barely even recommend other Sonic fans who are on the fence go out of their way to finish it. I won't begrudge people who got more out of this show than I did, but I think overall I just really, really dislike Sonic Prime.

...The problem, of course, is that all other discussion of the show has been overshadowed by needlessly hostile arguments over its place in Sonic's canon. So we've gotta talk about that, too.

(This post will contain full spoilers for Sonic Prime.)

The show's out of ideas but they've gotta stretch that shit out to hit the 23 episode mark somehow

Season 2 ended with the big twist that Nine decided to betray Sonic and Shadow, taking the Paradox Prism for himself so that he could go turn the empty world of the Grim into his own little paradise, since he doesn't believe he'll fit anywhere else. Nine has made himself the true big bad of the show.

The main impact this has is that now, instead of fighting endless identical Eggforcer bots and members of the Chaos Council over and over, the good guys and the Chaos Council have to fight endless Chaos Sonic-style robots sent by Nine while he goes "grrrrr I need Sonic's energy to stabilize the Paradox Prism." This continues for six whole episodes until the series finale, when the show decides it's time for Sonic and Nine to quickly make amends, fix everything, and send Sonic and Shadow home.

That's pretty much the whole season.

I cannot emphasize enough just how much of this final season is just fight after fight after fight against Nine's bots, and how fucking boring that gets. The season feels like one long, drawn out final battle that did not need to be nearly this long, but Nine had his big heel turn 2/3 of the way through the show and we've gotta fill up the rest of the time somehow. The novelty of the bots being based off of Sonic's friends (including the Chocobo-sized Birdie from the jungle world) really wears off quickly when they're just used as generic, silent mooks that the good guys have to fight by the dozen like it's the climax of an MCU movie. The first episode of the season with Sonic and Shadow fighting the new bots is pretty good, especially because Sonic and Shadow's dynamic is one of the few redeeming aspects of this show's writing, but after that it just gets boring. Three full episodes in a row are spent showing all the characters fighting robots in an empty wasteland while Nine scowls next to a big beam of energy. I found myself missing the in-your-face attitude of Chaos Sonic so much. He truly was one of the best parts of this show.

While the cast is busy fighting all these robots for what feels like an eternity, various things of varying levels of interest happen. There's a halfhearted attempt to have some kind of rivalry between Shadow and the main Grim Sonic throughout the final battle, but it completely falls flat because Grim Sonic has no personality whatsoever. It's like Shadow beefing with an above-average Egg Pawn. (Actually, no, that would be funny.) There's also a death fakeout with the two other versions of Tails, where they make a makeshift bomb and throw it a little too close to themselves on the battlefield and seem to get vaporized. If they had actually died there they would have had the funniest, most pointless deaths in the entire franchise.

I also realized at one point that they were trying to do the Avengers girl power fight thing with the three versions of Amy fighting a bunch of Rouge bots. This was very funny to me. Actually, so much of this is just following the tired MCU formula to the letter. Fighting over a macguffin, two armies just kind of running at each other and clashing in a big empty field, constant one-liner quips instead of actual jokes, the need to take out key targets to make the whole enemy army disappear, a villain who has a point but has to randomly hurt people so that there's an excuse for the heroes to fight him. When combined with how shit the multiverse stuff is, this whole show really is just Man of Action tackling some of the most played out storytelling tropes in modern pop culture in the most bland way possible. What a bunch of hacks.

By far, the one truly fun thing that happens in this protracted final battle is when a giant robot based on Big appears. It doesn't have arms or legs, but it can swing itself around to use its tail like a giant mace, and it can also shoot Froggy-shaped missiles out of its mouth. I wish the rest of the show was even half as fun as this. Again, Sonic Prime has just enough good moments to make you mad that the rest of the show isn't better.

The thing is, all this repetitive (but well-animated) action and the thin excuse plot would be totally serviceable if I just gave a shit about the characters involved. But I don't. I don't care what happens to the pirate version of Amy who goes "arrr." I don't care about what happens to Hipster Eggman. And unfortunately, by the end, I didn't really care about Nine, either.

Nine as a villain

It's hard to criticize the story here without it coming off as a broad condemnation of the tropes at play. The thing is, I like many stories that try to do similar things. I love clashes between heroes and villains that are really just fantastical exaggerations of more personal conflicts. I love stories where a tragic, sympathetic villain lashes out at the world as an expression of the pain they feel, and a compassionate hero just has to get through to them. I eat that shit right up. Undertale is my favorite game ever made. Shit, I love other Sonic stories that do these exact things. And Sonic having to fight an alternate timeline version of Tails also has so much potential for drama!

So I can very easily imagine a version of the show where all this works for me. That just isn't the version we got.

Like I said last time, Nine's motivation is just too sympathetic and understandable for his sudden turn to supervillainy to make any sense. He just wanted to start over somewhere where he can be happy after a childhood filled with bullying and loneliness. Nine betraying Sonic and stealing the Paradox Prism to go make his own world? That tracks! Especially since we don't even know if Nine will still exist if Sonic goes through with his plan to restore his original world! But trying to kill everyone in New Yolk City by tilting the world 90 degrees, intentionally targeting the civilian population because it'll get to Sonic? Nope! Sorry, that's a bridge too far. I don't buy it. He's jaded and antisocial, but he doesn't strike me as cruel. Writing in an excuse about him needing Sonic's energy to fix the Prism does not make this make more sense.

This was really just one of those conflicts where it felt like everyone should stop and talk it out. Instead we got six episodes of fighting before one of Sonic's many, MANY attempts at reasoning with Nine throughout the season finally works. This isn't me pulling some Cinema Sins bullshit where I complain about characters in a work of fiction not always behaving rationally - the real problem is that it's just so damn repetitive waiting for this conflict to resolve. This could have been wrapped up in two or three episodes and instead it takes seven.

A brief aside about that weird Dorkly-ass Sonic Advance 3 flashback scene hacked together with mismatched sprites where Gemerl happens to be present, presumably just because he's a part of the sprite for the Sunset Hill boss, and seeing him briefly makes me remember the extended cast from the games and how much I wish they had just made a cartoon about them instead of a bunch of stock characters wearing the skin of Sonic's friends, but then Gemerl just explodes with the boss machine at the end while Eggman is shown to get away so I guess Gemerl just dies in this flashback

Yeah that sure happened huh

The ending

Despite having a final battle that felt like an eternity, Sonic Prime is a show that just kind of... ends. And that ending is weird and haphazard.

The understanding I had was that Sonic's normal world had "shattered" when the Paradox Prism was destroyed, and from those remnants these new worlds were created. This is why they use terms like "Shatterverse" and "Shatterspaces" and why there's shattered glass/crystal/whatever imagery everywhere. This is a broken, fragmented version of the real universe. Right? Right?? Isn't that the entire premise of the show? And therefore, if the universe has been shattered, then fixing it means putting all the shattered pieces back together. Which I would assume means that the Shatterspaces cease to exist.

So, in the ending... Sonic's world seems to just exist as another Shatterspace. Restoring the Paradox Prism doesn't seem to combine the worlds or anything, it just fixes the broken portal to Sonic's world that exists alongside all the others. So... what exactly was the point of all the shattered glass symbolism?

Things only get more confusing as the ending progresses. Shadow brings Sonic through the portal before the draining of Sonic's whatever energy makes him disappear, and they're transported back in time to right before Sonic broke the Paradox Prism. Only Sonic seems to remember what happened (Shadow might remember, but he doesn't say anything), and with the Paradox Prism never shattered, it's unclear if the Shatterspaces exist now.

I'm not particularly hung up on the time loop ending. It's very much in line with all sorts of classic morality tales like A Christmas Carol or It's a Wonderful Life, where the flawed protagonist goes through some kind of magical experience and then returns home with a new appreciation for the people in their life. It's always been pretty obvious that was the type of story they were telling. I'm more bothered by the fact that there's no time whatsoever spent on whether or not the other worlds and the characters in them continue to exist. Sonic seems to act like the worlds will go on without him before he leaves, but it's not like we get an ending scene that shows how the other worlds are doing, so they really truly might as well not exist anymore. Sonic just wraps up the adventure from the first episode when he gets home, and before he can explain what happened from his perspective he's interrupted by a mysterious energy wave from off-screen and it's off to the next adventure.

(Despite this odd cliffhanger ending, the show is extremely over and not coming back. I have to imagine this is just a "the adventures never end" type ending and not a hint that more shit is going on with the Paradox Prism.)

This ending is also a terrible resolution to Nine's whole arc, despite him being the driving force of so much of the show. The way I see it, there are are three possible fates for him:

The Shatterspaces continue existing, and things go as Sonic expects them to go. Nine is allowed to make the Grim into his own little utopia, and everyone else leaves him alone instead of punishing him for all the trouble he caused. Instead of finding love and acceptance so he can heal from a lifetime of bullying and loneliness, Nine is allowed to run away, isolating himself from every other living being in the multiverse, and live alone as the god of an empty world with only his own creations as company. Sonic was his only friend, and he's gone forever now.

The Shatterspaces continue existing, but because of the time travel ending, most of the events of the show never happened. Sonic never helped defeat the Chaos Council, so they still control New Yolk City. Nine is back to living in this dystopian city with no friends. He never met Sonic.

The Shatterspaces have been erased. After fighting so hard for his right to exist as his own person and not just a "wrong" version of Tails, when the timeline is altered, he just... stops existing. Along with almost every other character in the show.

Do I even need to explain why these are all unsatisfying?

Misc. thoughts

I skimmed over this, but a lot of the final season is just spent seeing Sonic's friends bicker with the Chaos Council and then Sonic has to beg them to get along to save the universe. It gets old.

We also never really got an explanation for why the Chaos Council exists. They can't have come from other Shatterspaces because there ARE no other Shatterspaces. If the original Eggman was just split into five guys or time travel was involved or whatever, it never comes up. I can live with this, but it seems like an odd omission for a children's show that's constantly bogged down in technobabble explaining the mechanics of its extremely small and finite multiverse.

I have no idea where Shadow was for the first part of the final battle. I figured Nine must have captured him off-screen after Sonic first left the Grim, but Shadow was just... hanging around until his cue in the script, I guess?

Sonic saying "help a brother up" to Shadow was funny

Hipster Eggman pointing to one of the few nameless extras who tagged along for the final battle and going "Who are you? Seriously, does anyone know who this is?" was the only funny thing he did in the entire show

Mangy Tails randomly pressing buttons on the Chaos Council's generator like a curious animal and managing to improve its output was cute

Rusty Rose randomly realizes that the Birdie in her chest actually isn't being used as a power source, and that the Chaos Council was just... using that to manipulate her, somehow? I don't really know how that works but whatever

The Sonic Advance 3 flashback uses the actual boss music from the game, but they can't use the real Sunset Hill theme because they didn't wanna pay Masato Nakamura for using the Green Hill motif, I guess

To my fellow fans of bad games: did you know that Man of Action wrote the story for the bizarre Square Enix game The Quiet Man? The one where the lengthy FMV cutscenes play out with muffled audio and no subtitles because the protagonist is deaf, so you can't tell what's going on? And you had to do a New Game+ playthrough to actually hear the audio and understand what's going on? The worst-reviewed game of 2018? That one? I only learned that recently and it blew me away

So yeah, that's the end of the show. I didn't like it, and I don't think I liked the show much as a whole. I am far from alone in this sentiment, but the reasons why people dislike the show... those vary a bit.

The canon conundrum

More than anything else, it seems like most other discourse surrounding this show has been consumed by one talking point:

How can this be canon? Why is it canon?

I want to state very clearly up front that I, too, am a person who's noticed and complained about the inconsistencies with the games in Sonic Prime. Some of the characters are a bit off - or, you know, completely unrecognizable when discussing the writing of some of the AU counterparts. I think it's lame to say Sonic and friends all live in Green Hill and act like that's the entirety of their world. That sort of thing. But if Sega says it's canon to everything else? Sure. Fine. There's weirder shit in the canon.

Really, most of this can be explained away pretty easily. The show was written at a time when Sega was still figuring shit out and there were looser restrictions. Why does Sonic act a little more immature? Probably just because Prime is aiming for a slightly younger audience than the games or the IDW comics. (And also it's, y'know, written by Man of Action, who people have accused of only knowing how to write one kind of protagonist for years.) Why do Sonic and friends live in Green Hill? Because that's the most recognizable location from the games, and the game world doesn't get enough screentime to justify modeling multiple different environments, so they just focus on Green Hill. Why is this considered canon to the games? Because this is the first Sonic cartoon that outright references events from the games as things that have happened to Sonic in the past.

But announcing early on that Prime would be canon certainly let fans' imaginations wander. It was one of the few things we knew about the show before it premiered. People wondered if characters from the games and comics who had never made any appearances in Sonic cartoons might get their time in the spotlight. We wondered if it would tie into the lore or any existing storylines in interesting ways, like the IDW comics do. But above all else, we hoped that its canon status would mean that Sonic Prime would finally be the Sonic cartoon that was faithful to the source material with no catches. We've literally never seen the actual world of the games brought to life in a TV show. Sonic X came the closest, but that still took its liberties. And so hype built for this Canon Sonic Cartoon.

And then it actually came out, and after a brief intro in Green Hill based loosely on the games, it spent most of its running time focusing on things like "what if there was a version of Eggman who was a bratty teen who just wanted to play video games?" The disappointment among fans is understandable. I am disappointed. Look at how much I've bitched about this aggressively mid cartoon.

Some fans, however, came up with an elaborate theory about the series. You see, when asked about the show's place in the game timeline during a live Q&A, Ian Flynn (who only served as a consultant on Sonic Prime and did not write any of it) said this:

"I cannot answer because I know the answer, and you haven't finished watching the show yet."

A couple days later, when answering another question about Prime's place in the timeline and also about a writing discrepancy, he said this:

"As to where it fits on the timeline, I can't speak to it because that would spoil the show to a degree. So you're just gonna have to wait 'til it's done. Towards the other point, I don't know how much I can say, so it's probably better that I not comment. That's a really dissatisfying answer, I know, I'm sorry, but my hands are kinda tied on that one."

I feel the need to quote Ian directly here, because these very basic statements about how he can't talk about behind the scenes shit or anything from unreleased episodes was GREATLY misinterpreted by the fandom. People clung onto Ian's claim that we had to keep watching like a life preserver. Some took it as Ian saying that the ending would explain everything. Finally, we'd have a definitive answer for every little discrepancy and the apparent differences in worldbuilding. An explanation for why Sega and the producers repeatedly insist this show HAS to be canon.

And to these fans, the only explanation that made any sense... would be if the ending of Sonic Prime pulled a Flashpoint.

As this theory explained, the Sonic we were following in Sonic Prime wasn't the Sonic we know from the games and the IDW comics, and likewise the world he comes from isn't really the game world. This is a different Sonic who fights a different Eggman in a world that's literally just Green Hill. It was a hint that something was off all along! But in the end of the series, this Sonic would sacrifice himself to merge all of the Shatter Spaces together and form a brand new world, and that would be the more visually diverse world of the games and comics. According to this theory, Sonic Prime was canon because it was a new origin story for the entire franchise.

I want you to really stop and think about how asinine of an origin story this would be. Really drink this in. The idea that there was another, slightly different version of Sonic who went on a kinda shitty multiverse adventure and then sacrificed himself to create the real Sonic that we've known since 1991. People convinced themselves this made more sense than the simple explanation that a different team of writers got some stuff wrong and Sega didn't make them change it. Interviews where producers talked about drawing on Sonic's "mythology" (ie: they reference the games in the show) were taken very literally - they must be saying that Prime's story is mythological in nature, and that this show would be integral to the games' mythology. Why bother making a show that's canon if it's not going to be crucial to that canon, after all?

The final episodes dropped, and none of this happened. Because of course it didn't. It was all Sherlock fandom-level copium. But fans were left confused by the lack of a grand reveal of where Sonic Prime fits in the timeline, believing they had been promised this, and they turned to Ian for an explanation. Ian's answer:

It doesn't matter, b/c Prime wipes itself out. It's sometime after Advance 3*, but otherwise, it's moot. I didn't want to sour anyone's expectations or investment by spoiling how Prime resolves, that's all. If you enjoyed it, awesome. Savor it. If you didn't, then you can safely ignore it. Simple as that.

* About a trillion people have um, actually'd Ian to point out Orbot and Cubot briefly appear in the show, but if we're really being pedantic here we don't actually know how long before Colors Eggman built Orbot and Cubot, so it wouldn't be fully accurate to say a story featuring Orbot and Cubot couldn't be set before Colors. Either way, a story set anywhere around Colors, or at any point later than that, could still be described as "sometime after Advance 3." Advance 3 is just the most recent game that has specific in-game events referenced in the show. Yes I can feel myself morphing into the nerd emoji before your very eyes

Anyway, this is the latest reason Ian is getting death threats on Twitter. This time it's over a show he barely even had any input on!

I'll cut to the chase. It is truly wild to me that people are getting this heated over canonical inconsistencies in a series as historically inconsistent as Sonic, to the point that they think threatening Ian is justified. The aesthetics of the entire world Sonic inhabits change every other game. Sonic Chronicles may no longer be canon due to the Penders lawsuits, but it was canon at one point, and it took huge liberties with Sonic's world, moving Green Hill off of South Island and reinterpreting Station Square as a tiny outpost in a snowy alpine forest region. Characters' personalities change from writer to writer and based on what Sega wants at the time, with some being WILDLY different across different games. One game Sonic will be stoic and cool, the next he thinks "Baldy McNosehair" is the funniest thing ever. Sega's STILL trying to figure out what Amy's personality is supposed to be. We still don't have the explanation for how the two seemingly contradictory backstories for Blaze can fit together. There have been multiple huge, sweeping retcons, and retcons to those retcons. Sonic Forces claims that Classic Sonic is from an entirely different universe than Modern Sonic, and the plot only makes any sense if that's true - otherwise, Modern Sonic would have already known Eggman was going to beat him and take over the world when he did, because his younger self had already lived through that war. All of that makes no sense in the newly reunified timeline, but Forces is very much still canon.

For fuck's sake, we're talking about the series where Eggman blew up half the moon and then it looked completely normal in every other game after, explained away as "the moon just rotated so we can't see the destroyed side from Earth." This has never, ever, ever been a franchise where everything lines up perfectly with no issues. It's not that serious.

The real core problem with Prime isn't that things don't line up 100% with our current understanding of canon, or that Sonic's characterization means this can't be the real Sonic, or anything like that. The problem, as I've been saying this whole time, is that the story is bad. None of these discrepancies would truly matter if the story was better. They'd just be nitpicks. The fact that Sonic and friends live in Green Hill would be the farthest thing from my mind if the drama was more engaging, if the villains were better, if the jokes were actually funny, if more of the alternate universe counterparts of Sonic's friends had more than one generic character trait each, if the multiverse was more creative and varied, if the final seven episodes of this show didn't devolve into the third act of an MCU movie and then just arbitrarily end, if Nine's character arc actually had a satisfying conclusion instead of ending with either isolation or nonexistence. Maybe we'd be seeing people talk about more than just whether or not it should be considered canon if the writing was any good.

"Canon" is not real, and it sure as hell isn't worth sending people death threats over. It's a storytelling tool. Real human beings decide what does and doesn't go into that canon, or how much they do or don't want to draw on past stories, when creating a new story. Serving that canon is secondary to creating a story where the emotional truth resonates with the audience. And Sonic Prime failed to do that. That is its true failing.

And finally, to close out...

Since people will ask, here are my current ranking of the Sonic TV shows, now that Prime is finished.

Sonic Boom

Sonic SatAM

Sonic X

The Adventures of Sonic the Hedgehog

Sonic Prime

Sonic Underground

Yes, I'd say Boom is my favorite. It's far from my ideal Sonic cartoon, but it gets a lot of points for being as funny as it is. But the top four are all shows I'd say I like, more or less. They all have their pros and cons.

So now, uh... I guess let's hope the live action Knuckles show coming to Paramount+ is better than the underwhelming synopsis of "Knuckles helps deputy sheriff Wade train in the ways of the echidna warrior" would imply? Maybe we'll get lucky?

#tkp post #other media

[cottonlemonade]

Six And A Half Minutes [part 3]

word count: 1850 || avg. reading time: 8 mins.

pairing: University!AU Suna x chubby!Reader

genre: smut - and lots of it, smidgen of angst, friends to lovers

warnings: mdni, nsfw, swearing, mentions of insecurities, more loving degradation, horny love drunk Suna

[part 1] [part 2]

____________________________________________

It took a couple of seconds for his words to register. Your head was still swimming from your climax and the taste of his cock fresh on your tongue.

“You don’t have to, you know.”, you said finally, nervously kneading your hands in your lap again.

“Don’t get all fucking cute and shy after what you just did. I can only take so much.”, Rin frowned with a smile, softer than you’d ever seen, “C’mon.”

He got off the couch, staggering for a moment before regaining his balance, and then stretched his hand out to you.

Of course you had been in his room countless times, had commented on the messiness of clothes strewn about and teased him how he even managed to get girls into his bed. Well.

You lay back on his sheets, very very aware that your best friend hovered half naked above you and you were caged between his arms and thighs.

“First things first.”, he said matter of factly and leaned down. You half expected him to go back to sucking on your nipples but instead he pressed his lips to yours. The kiss turned from sweet to sloppy and you felt his hand slide down your side to your pajama shorts. Rintarou made quick work of them, flinging them into some dark corner of his room and then began teasing your clit through your panties. He grinned when he felt how drenched you were and you moaned into his mouth.

Your shirt and bra swiftly followed your shorts and he scooted down, making sure to get some more licks and sucks in at your breasts and came to kneel before you on the bed.

“You gotta spread your legs a bit further, alright?.”

His casual tone made you squirm a little and you were sure Rin could feel the new surge of juices soaking through your panties.

You did as you were told.

He almost drooled when he peeled the fabric to the side and saw your glistening puffy pussy lips just begging to be devoured. He couldn’t wait to fuck you but all in good time.

You let out a loud moan when his tongue swiped through your folds the first time. He wrapped his arms around your plush thighs to keep you in place as he continued, tracing circles around your sensitive clit with the tip of his tongue. His recently spent cock hardened again in his pants and he ever so slightly moved his hips against his bed for some friction.

Fuck, he could taste you for hours. The room was quiet except him slurping, sucking and kissing your pussy like he had never tasted anything so delicious. He was completely drunk on you, reveling in your sounds and squirms. He wanted to kill that bastard that dared to cheat on you when he had the most heavenly pussy right there in front of him. But then again, maybe he should thank him actually. Rintarou sighed at your sweetness.

Letting go of one of your thighs he brought two fingers to your mouth. “Can you get those nice and wet for me, baby?” His eyes were filled with the same hunger as before, setting softer kisses on your clit for a short break while you complied and sucked his fingers into your mouth.

“That’s it. You’re doing great…”

You shivered for a moment when he used the newly slicked fingers to tease your hard nipples for a second. He chuckled against your pussy, closing his eyes in bliss again when he lay his tongue flat against your folds.

“Now, let’s see how long it takes for you to be begging to cum, hm?”

As it turned out, not long at all. He really hadn’t exaggerated when he said he was good with his fingers and tongue.

When his long fingers entered your still dripping pussy you were sure you would pass out. His lips latched to your swollen clit, he slowly began to fuck you with his fingers, picking up the pace every couple of tongue swipes.

Your juices ran down the back of his hand - a waste in his opinion. He held onto you tighter, nibbling your clit now as his fingers quickly darted in and out, before keeping them inside you, curling and scissoring.

You covered your mouth with your hand, arching your back.

“Nono, none of that. Let me hear you.”, he panted, replacing his tongue on your clit momentarily with his calloused thumb, “Go on, baby. Tell me what you want.”

“Mmh! Fuck, Rin - oh my god, don’t stop - don’t ever stop! Please, I need to cum.”

He almost nutted in his sweats at your desperation.

He kept his tongue on your cunt through your orgasm, slowing his finger fucking again.

“You think, my pretty little slut can take my cock next?”, he said in a low voice, pulling his fingers out of you, examining the little strands of cum forming between them with interest.

He took off his sweats and knelt between your legs, his hard cock lined up with your sensitive pussy, still pulsing from your last orgasm. Wiping your cum on his cock made him twitch in anticipation.

“Look at me. You ready?”

Instead of a reply, since words did not seem to form currently, you just spread your legs a little further.

“Fuck, you’re incredible.”

For a few strokes he let his cock just glide through your folds, coating it well in your juices, then slowly pushed into you.

“Shit, nngh, relax a bit more, alright? Or I won't be able to fit... Fuck, you’re tight.”

Muttering sweet compliments he bullied his cock further and further into you. When he finally bottomed out, he guided your legs around his waist and leaned down to take your hard nipples into his mouth again. He couldn’t get enough of you. He let you get used to the feeling of him filling your cute little cunt while he happily licked and sucked more hickeys into your skin.

“You can fuck me now.”, you said quietly after a few minutes of slow deep kisses, just enjoying the feeling of his cock inside of you and Rin was close to proposing on the spot.

“As you wish.”

One arm used to propping himself up, the free hand grabbing onto your waist he began to move.

Waking up the next morning, Rin was confused to find the other side of his bed empty. He sat up and looked around the room now illuminated by the early morning. Dust danced in the gray sun beams.

“Y/n?”, he called, getting more confused by the second. Your discarded clothes were also gone. Just then he heard the door open and you stepped inside. Seemingly having just come out of the bathroom, you were dressed in your comfortable pajamas again. Rintarou clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“Why are you dressed?”, and not even waiting for a reply he added, “Come back to bed.”

He lifted the blanket and in the dim morning light you caught a glimpse of his magnificent naked body as he patted the spot next to him, “C’mon, it’s getting cold.”

You stepped closer to the bed and were pulled into his arms, your back against his warm chest.

He hummed sleepily, then muttered, “Too many clothes.”

Soon his hand found its way under your shirt and began to caress your tummy and breasts.

“Lift your leg a little, baby.”

“What?”

“Just do it.”, he said simply, kissing your neck.

You let him lift your leg ever so slightly and a moment later felt him slide his half hard cock between your thighs. You gasped when he pulled your pajama shorts and panties to the side and rubbed his length along your folds again that were getting wetter by the second.

Setting opened mouthed kisses to your neck he moaned quietly into your ear.

His hand under your shirt again, he cupped your breasts, squeezing in tune with the thrusts of his hips.

When you had woken up that morning all your bravery from last night was gone. Everything that happened seemed like the worst mistake you ever made. What happened between you was nothing more than a fluke and he would discard you just like your ex had done. Or what if Rin thought you were only using him as a rebound. But wow, you got way ahead of yourself there. He probably also simply craved some release. This was just two best friends helping each other out, right? Even now you faced away from him as he used you - “Look at me.”, Rin's voice cut through your thoughts and his hips slowed, looking into your eyes when you turned your head. He pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. The kiss was drawn out and sensual, his tongue gently pushing open your mouth to slip inside.

“There you go…”, his hand wandered lower to your plush thighs, digging between them to toy with your clit, “You’re doing so well for me, hm? - Keep your eyes on me, y/n.”, foreheads resting against each other he sped up again.

It didn’t take long for you two to cum together, whiny and panting.

He kissed you once more.

“Now I’m all sticky again…”, you complained with a little pout.

He chuckled and nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

“We can take a shower in a bit but let’s just stay here a little longer, alright?”

He held you close, nose buried in your hair, breathing deeply.

After a bit of silence he said your name.

“Hm?”

“Just in case it wasn’t really fucking obvious … I love you.”

_________________

Three months later:

Rintarou had a request while you were fooling around on his couch again.

“Do you remember that pink crop top with like the flowers on it?”

“Oh, you mean the one you told me not to wear again because it’s too small which then made me cry myself to sleep? Yeah, I remember.”

“Woah woah woah, I distinctly remember I said not to wear it in front of other people.”

“Oh you distinctly remember, do you?”

“Sure fucking do. Cause I kept waiting for you to wear it again in front of me.”

You raised a brow.

He kissed your neck and grabbed your breasts.

“Cause your tits look absolutely delectable in that thing.”

“Oh really?”

He hummed, sucking your nipples again, refreshing his latest set of hickeys.

“And then if you pair that with no bra and like… only some cute panties… shit, I’d make sure to worship every inch of you and then fuck you so thoroughly you’d forget your own name… hmm, pounding you to watch your tits bounce in that shirt… Damn, I’m getting hard just thinking about it.”

“Pervert.”, unfortunately your insult came out as a gasp when he brought his hand between your legs and dragged his fingers through your puffy pussy lips, drenched from his words.

He grinned, bringing the glistening fingers to his lips and giving them a mischievous lick. “As if you didn’t already know, my beautiful little slut.”

____________________________________________

a/n: this concludes officially the most explicit thing I have ever written. Yeah.

✨ @priv-rose @nyctophilicroses ✨

#suna x chubby reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro x you #suna x you #suna x y/n #suna smut #suna rintaro smut #hq suna #haikyuu suna #suna x reader #suna rintarou #chubby reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #hq suna rintarou

[the-fluff-piece]

Invisible

This is a SAD story with no heartwarming happy end or moment of redemption. It's the middle of the night and I feel depressed, so why not write some sad fiction

You've loved Sanji for a while, but he doesn't even see you. When Nami asks to switch bodies for a day, you experience his devotion for a short while - before going back to being invisible for him

Part 2

Part 3 is actually a choose your own adventure type!

Part 3.1: Zoro or Sanji?

Part 3.2: Law or Sanji?

Also check out my stories and headcanon masterlists

You weren't sure what she was planning, but Nami assured you that it was of the utmost importance that she borrow your body for a day. She also swore by her mother's trees that it wasn't anything illegal. And also all the money you owed her would be forgotten - so it seemed overall like an acceptable deal.

She somehow blackmailed your crews ally Trafalgar Law into this to make the switch. So when you anchored at an amusement island full of casinos and shopping opportunities, you found yourself in the thin, busty, long legged body of hers.

You looked down at her - in your body - and couldn't help but frown at the small, mousy girl looking up at you with Nami's glint in her eyes.

"Thanks Y/n, take good care of my body. See you tonight!" She saluted you and sprinted off the ship with determination.

Unsure what to do, you wobbled to Nami's closet on your much to long legs that were in much too high heels. Hopefully she had something like a shirt, you felt naked in her Jeans and Bikini Top combo.

Eventually, you found a simple shirt with a round neck and some flats and felt more like yourself immediately.

Getting out into the sun, you enjoyed the feeling of a cool breeze playing with her long hair and sighed.

"Oh Nami-swaaaaan how wonderful to see you this morning! I made extra tasty breakfast for you todaaayyyy!" Sanji screamed with his usual slurred voice. It took you a few seconds to make the connection that he, indeed, was talking to you. Or Nami, wich was gone for the day.

You turned and looked at Sanji who was prancing towards you with heart eyes and an excited expression.

"May I accompany you to the table mademoiselle?" He held out his arm.

You took it, and your heart already pounded like mad in your chest. He was gorgeous, smart and charming. He was strong and kind and had dominated your thoughts since you joined the crew.

Too bad you never lived up to the standard he had for women. Small, mousy, not at all shapely or beautiful. He treated you friendly, but way too often he seemed to overlook you. And he never, ever treated you like your female crewmates.

So this felt new and exciting, his blue eyes looked at you for the first time, really seeing, even if it was not you he really looked at.

Happily, you let him walk you to breakfast and push your chair to the table that was already loaded with all kinds of the crew's favorite food.

"Y/n not coming?" He asked when one seat remained empty.

"She left for the city just a few minutes ago" you answered.

"Very well" He said and absent mindedly took the plate and cutlery away to make place.

Usually, you ate and goofed around with Usopp and Chopper, but of course, you are not here, Nami is. You've barely taken a bite out of your toast when Sanji already inquired if it's to your liking, while simultaneously barking at Luffy and Zoro to remember their manners.

"Nami-swaaan, my sunshine, my diamond, do you need anything else?" He asked, totally in love.

"Uhm, maybe a tea?" You answered, still a little perplexed. He never asked you anything like that before.

"Tea? Of course, right away my angel!" He cooed and hurried back to the kitchen, preparing the tea.

The rest of the breakfast continued just like that - Sanji asking endlessly for your wishes and getting to work immediately when you so much as whispered an answer.

Afterwards, everyone was getting ready to explore the island. You were planning to look through a few bookstores and end the day reading at a cafe.

"Nami-swaaaan, may I accompany you to the city? I will carry all your shopping bags!" He begged you eagerly.

"I don't plan on doing so much shopping..." You said with your hands raised in defense of his onslaught of affection.

"I'll just look around a bit and maybe get a book" you explained as Sanji already sank to one knee, taking your hand.

"Than I will be your bodyguard, the city is dangerous!" He informed you and like that, it was settled that he would come with you.

He wore one of his more casual outfits - a brightly colored hawaian shirt, a fitting tie and short cargo pants - so you two looked more like cringey tourists and less like pirates together.

Going with Sanji to explore the city felt almost like a date, commenting on clothing in shop windows and what would look so nice on Nami's body. You didn't plan on buying clothes that day, you didn't exactly know what she would like anyway, but he was very, very insisting that you at least try on a few things.

Unsure what to do, you left the decision to Sanji and he immediately lead you into one of the store

You tried a few things, just basic shirts and a dress, and of course it looked gorgeous on Nami. She could have worn a potatoe sack and look like a million beri. Sanji was almost swooning and loving every bit of it.

"So beautiful!" He gushed. "Nice body!" He squealed in delight. "Why don't you try this bikini?" He asked as he held up a few shreds of fabric.

"Why don't you try on something?" You asked him, already thinking what kinds of shirts or jackets would suit him best, and trying to discourage him from suggesting more revealing outfits.

____

Meanwhile at the Casino

Nami wandered past the picture of herself with the fat letters "DO NOT BELIEVE THIS WOMAN" and chuckled to herself. The owner of that chain of casinos kind of had a grudge against her, but the new face she was wearing couldn't be more inconspicuous. And she didn't directly do anything illegal, so it will be absolute fine.

-------

You

Soon, you flattered him into wearing some nice shirts that accentuated his bright eyes and slender frame. Much like Nami, he could wear pretty much anything and look fabulous, now it was your turn to gush about his looks and search for more outfits.

"Are you sure you don't want to try any more?" He asked insecurely as you handed him another suit to try. He didn't seem to be used to being on that side of the conversation, he talked softly and shyly all of a sudden.

"Do you really think this looks good on me?" He would ask again and again, revealing his sweet side even more.

"Of course, Sanji-kun! You look so handsome in that shirt." You said and saw his cheeks flush like he was a cute maiden.

"In fact, I like it so much that I'll buy it for you" eliciting an expression of pure shock from him.

"That is so nice, but what interest do you want?" He asked, already afraid that he was driven into debt. Of course, Zoro already was looking at an amount he would never pay off in his life, something Sanjin surely wanted to avoid.

"No, I really want to give you a gift. Promise!" You said and took out your purse.

"Really? A gift from my beautiful Nami-swan? I was never more happy!" He was almost crying from joy.

Leaving the store, he hummed and cuddled the fine dress shirt that you bought him, thinking it was a gift from his beloved. He looked so happy and sweet, you would love to shower him with gifts endlessly.

"How about we take a break, eat lunch at a restaurant?" You asked him, getting used to interacting with him in this new constellation. Of course he would say yes and of course he would be delighted at the chance.

"Yes, of absolutely! I'll find the best restaurant in town for you!" He promised and already started to walk towards the restaurant mile.

Like a researcher, he studied every restaurant meticulously, almost like his life depended on it. After what felt like an eternity, he finally decided for a small seaside bistro that looked not at all fancy or outstanding.

As he guided you to a table, he explained: "it may not look like much but their kitchen is filled with fresh herbs and they have few, but excellent dishes."

And he was right, it was fresh and delicious. You used the opportunity to get to know him better, since he usually didn't talk so lengthy to you.

"Tell me about yourself? A few stories from the baratie perhaps?" You asked, shamelessly nosy.

He looked like you had just gifted him the all blue on a pladder.

"You really want to know? About me?" He tentatively asked.

You nodded.

"Oh damn...where should I start? There's so many stories..." Once he started he almost couldn't stop, he seemed delighted by Nami's attention. She usually treated him politely, but held him at arms length if she didn't need anything. You felt a bit bad for changing the relationship somewhat, but you couldn't help but bask just for this one day in his company. Those blue eyes fixed on you, sparkling with joy and love, his pretty mouth telling you about his life. Moments that could be treasured long after this freak magic ended.

You hung on his lips and both of you forgot the time. He told you about the cooks that raised him, how Zeff trained him and how he went from a clueless kid to a master cook.

It felt like you got to know so many new sides to him and you fell in love with all of them. You knew that he was kind, but you didn't know that he loved animals as well. When a cute dog wandered by - telling by his round shape no doubt the villages favorite stray - Sanji absent mindedly scratched it behind the ears and gave it his leftovers.

It got late and the sun was already low in the sky.

"Time to head home, I don't want Luffy to starve tonight" He said with a chuckle.

Over already? He finally relaxed and opened up like never before, desperate to get just a few more moments with him you said: "come on, it's not that late. I bet they already bought something to eat in town. Let's search for a nice spot and watch the sunset!"

He looked speechless, the cigarette he just lit hung loosely from his lips.

"Uhm...sunset...watch...together???" He stammered in shock. "SO IT IS A DATE" he screamed and proceeded to bleed waterfalls from his nose.

No! You promised you wouldn't get Nami into trouble.

"No! No date! You know what, this is my fault, let's get back to the ship." You protested and tried to save the situation.

"What date? Who said something about a date? I just wanted to...uhm..buy some dates for dessert, yes. Let's watch the sunset as friends." He tried to save the situation.

Lucky for him, all you wanted was this moment with him, but without getting Nami into a situation she didn't want.

You found a spot on a low brick wall along the beach and watched the sun paint the sky in violet, pink and soft blue. It was calm and peaceful and you took deep breaths as you took in the beautiful scenery.

You turned to look at Sanji, but he was already staring at you, his mouth open.

"You're so God damn fucking beautiful" He whispered.

"You look like an angel..." he continued and leaned in to kiss you with heavy lidded eyes, competitively enchanted. You forgot who you were and why you were here, all that existed was this gorgeous, soft, wonderful man and you. Your eyes fluttered shut as your heart kicked into overdrive.

"Oh Nami-San" He whimpered when you could already feel his deep, nervous breaths on your face - slapping you back into reality.

This was not your kiss to have. This man didn't even want you. What you did there was deeply, deeply wrong on many levels. You jerked back, gasping, leaving Sanji to lose his balance and crash to the pavement below.

"Oh Nami-swan, your love is hitting me like a brick wall" he said, looking up at you with crossed eyes and a bleeding nose.

Panic rose inside of you - not only did you practically lie to your crewmate Sanji, you abused the body of your friend as well. You looked down her body, reminding you that none of this should be happening. You grabbed the cook at his collar and heaved him up. Emulating Nami's more demanding voice you say:

"NOTHING happened between us today, you hear me? NOTHING. We had a nice shopping tour, ate something AND THAT'S IT."

Baffled and with slightly wet eyes, Sanji nodded.

"And now we're going home." You said and dragged him to his feet. Ignoring his softly whispered questions, you stalked back to the ship on long legs that weren't yours, left a helpless and absolutely devastated Sanji on deck, and shut yourself in the girl's room

_____

Meanwhile: Nami

A broad grin in her face and a big sack of money on her back, Nami left the casino. She won - fair and square. She didn't always need to revert to robbery to get what she wanted - give her a card table and a bit of time and she wins everything just like that.

Nami was banned from all major casinos, so she didn't get to play as much. It was so much fun, she may have overdone it with the beer a little...y/n would surely understand.

_____

You

Finally, Nami came back, a very sour looking Law in her grasp. After putting everyone in the right body again, Nami gave him a brown paper envelope that he checked briefly, called her a witch, and left for good.

Crushed by guilt and feeling strangely dizzy, you confessed your guilt.

"I swear nothing really happened...I told him to forget it...I'M SO. SO. SORRY!" You collapsed at her feet as she turned in front of the mirror, admiring herself.

"Ah, thanks for the heads up. I'll deal with him, don't worry." She said, totally relaxed as she squeezed her boobs in both hands and pursed her lips, admiring the pose in the mirror.

"God, I missed these two!" She finally exclaimed and dressed in a bikini top and hotpants.

"So he'll be a little more annoying than usual. No biggie. Oh and...by the way? Maybe stay away from casinos for a few months" She said with a wink and ran down to the kitchen for dinner.

You felt like you couldn't show your face to Sanji ever again, when you remembered that you didn't spend the day with him. Nami has. And she would handle it.

You swayed down the stairs and sat down, there was no plate in front of you. Fair enough, you weren't really hungry. You watched Sanji as he carefully wooed Nami with special treats and compliments, all the while looking sad and small. When you finally decided to get up and get your own plate, he mumbled "oh sorry y/n, didn't think you were coming" barely glancing at you. "Just help yourself" He said as he pointed to the mountains of food on the table.

He stalked around Nami for the whole evening, ignoring you completely. Now that you've known how his attention and love felt, his indifference stung more than you could ever have imagined. And there was nothing you could do about it, you were just you. Not interesting.

Tears welled up in your eyes and you excused yourself hastily, fully crying before you could reach the relative privacy of the girls dorm.

You were crying over your own shortcomings, over perfect moments that would never come back, over blue eyes that would never look at you ever again, your pathetic weakness. Agitated, you threw yourself on your bed, bud were unable to fall asleep.

You decided to take a bath to feel better, and it helped, even just a little. Spending a long time relaxing in the hot water, you finally got tired and decided to give sleep another try.

As you walked back to the girls room, shriveled up like dried fruit and with ouffy eyes, you saw Sanji lean over the railing, smoking and looking out to the sea. He looked lost in thought, sad. You would have loved to comfort him, give him just the tiniest piece of happiness back, but it was pointless. He whispered something under his breath. Deciding against eavesdropping, you returned to bed and left him by himself.

-------

Epilogue

"You did quite a number on that guy. He brought me flowers this morning, can you imagine?" Nami told you, chuckling.

"White roses. He's really lost" She added, looking at you for some reaction.

"Sorry..." You muttered, your voice trailing off.

"I shouldn't have..."

"Don't feel bad, I'll be alright. It doesn't matter anyway if I'm too nice to him or kick him in the face, he'll be into me no matter what. It's annoying but harmless, and sometimes useful" She winked at you, trying to lift the mood.

"You know, it's not your fault he made it into a date. Bet he just coerced you into it, you're too nice!" Nami went on, you looked away, flushing.

"It's not like you wanted it, right?" She asked.

"Right?" She added a bit more insecurely.

"Oh." Her eyes went wide at your pained expression.

"Oh, well, uhm. An idiot like that for a nice girl like you? Nah!" She grimaced as your face darkened more and more.

"You deserve so much better! Some day you'll find the one" She talked on, slowly realising that it was not exactly making you feel better.

"Haha...sorry" She pouted.

"It's okay, I'll get over it." You answered.

"You're strong, you will." Nami patted your back and finally left.

#one piece fanfiction #one piece x you #one piece sanji #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji #sanji #sanji x y/n #sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji x reader #angst #sad fanfiction #sad fic #body swap #body switch #one piece #the fluff piece

[showtoonzfan]

Now that the episode is out officially, here’s my rant review of Oops!

PROS:

- Fizz and Ozzie were adorable and I honestly love them. Despite the sex jokes, you can tell they love each other for who they are OUTSIDE of sex. While I did wish we would have seen more, (like how Ozzie took him in and fell in love) they’re still adorable to watch. They’re the better version of Stolitz, can the show be about them instead?

- Brandon’s voice acting holy shit, he really knows how to sound like he’s in tears or is broken. As much as I hate the character and feel no sympathy, he displayed genuine and broken emotion very well.

- Alex Brightman Alex Brightman

Okay that’s it. Moving on to the Cons. Bear with me, it’s a lot and I go back and forth a bit. 😭

CONS:

So for a quick short summary, this episode:

- Once again puts more focus on the filler plot rather than actually focusing on the relationships between the characters, so all we're left with is a 10 second clip of Fizz being burned while the rest of the episode is surrounded on sex jokes/petty bickering and Stolas and Ozzie sitting around.

- Completely erases what made Blitz and Fizz's dynamic interesting in the first place because it retcons it with a dumb miscommunication trope about how Fizz actually wanted to see Blitz and Blitz tried reaching out to him. Not only does this feel like a cheap attempt to make Blitz out to be sweet/sympathetic and NOT the one in the wrong so Fizz can suck up to him, but this also makes no sense within the narrative.

- Has Fizz forgive Blitz despite him being the last person anyone would think would forgive him. (So honestly ruins Fizz himself because it turned him into a soft boy who's forgiving compared to the asshole he was in Ozzie's) All because Viv would sell her whole soul before she even remotely considers painting characters like Blitz and Stolas out to be the one's in the wrong.

- Takes Stolas out of the hospital completely, erasing all the drama/tension Western Energy had and proves that that episode was utterly pointless.

- Turns Striker from an interesting complex villain to a Saturday morning cartoon goon.

- Proves to us that Crimson is just a flat tool and gives us more prove that the world building rules Viv set up in season 1 legit don't matter.

-Ruins Blitz/Barbie's feud now because now you're making Barbie look like the one in the wrong since the fire was an accident. God forbid a female characters emotions in this show are justified.

But if you want my more in depth rants, it’s under the cut! (There’s a lot so bear with me lol)

- As usual WAAY too many sex jokes and swearing. It gets annoying and repetitive at times and some of them distract from the main plot. There’s a long and I mean LONNG dragged out joke of Fizz talking about Ozzie’s dick, then later saying he’s hard when Striker has a gun to his head, as well as Blitz making a joke about him and Fizz making out once they hug. Again, Viv can’t be serious for 2 seconds without an unfunny shitty gag. I genuinely wonder if Hazbin is ganna be like this, where a character is in a life threatening situation or a deep dark serious scene happens only for the next scene to be sex related.

- This is one of those “shit happens because the plot demands it” and it shows. Crimson and Striker COINCIDENTLY meet up with each other, and Fizz and Blitz just so HAPPEN to be in the same exact area they are. Viv wonders why we call her shit a fanfic and this is what we mean, when she creates wild wacky plots and focuses more on THAT rather than the actual character writing. This entire episode hinges on a useless poorly last minute planned kidnapping plot that didn’t need to happen. Also way to once again make the characters idiots so the plot can happen, cause Fizz KNOWS Ozzie worries for him and that the Greed Ring is dangerous, yet purposefully puts the spotlight on him.

- Stolas did NOT need to be in this episode. The plot completely ignores the fact that he was in the hospital the last time we saw him, and he’s only here for Stolitz banter. You’d think that a character admitting they have feelings for someone would be a big deal but he just flat out says it and it’s so underwhelming and feels half assed with no weight to it. Fan comics have made more dedication to this than Viv has. We're supposed to believe him too despite the show failing to actually SHOW us this. Same for Blitz ranting about how “nice” Stolas has been to him, laughing at his jokes and liking his posts…hey Viv, can we actually SEE that on screen so it’s more believable? Or are you only determined to show them sexually flirting? 😑

- Once again Viv felt the need to shove a B plot into this episode and this one sucks because it’s just two characters sitting and doing fucking nothing. It felt like Viv had no idea what to do with Stolas and Ozzie, and I refuse to believe that Ozzie just sat there knowing Fizz was in danger. If anything he would have said “fuck the paperwork” and went to save Fizz himself. Way to show that gif of Ozzie getting mad as a sneak peak to get fans excited, only to see that Ozzie spends the rest of the episode sitting in a dark room LMAO what a let down.

- Ozzie is weirdly chill and cool with Stolas and it’s something I don’t get. While he did say that Stolas had the real “spirit of Lust” in S1E7, it still gave you the impression that he was also more poking fun at Stolas rather than respecting him. The whole point of House of Asmodeous was that Ozzie outs him and publicly embarrassed him. Stolas literally was intimidated just by Asmodeous’s mere name, and hid his face around him. It seemed like Stolas certainly didn’t want someone like Ozzie to know about his private life especially since they’re both part of the Ars Goetia. Now here Ozzie is just cool with him and it feels like a missed opportunity for their dynamic.

- Stolas confessing his feelings about Blitz also makes…no sense narrative wise. I thought the whole point of The Circus and the ending to Western Energy was that he was realizing that Blitz didn’t like him that way and was finally waking up. I thought that’s why he was doing this whole crystal deal in the first place, so he can let Blitz go, yet the show keeps flip flopping and insisting that these two love each other and are good for each other. It’s really making you realize how this season and the previous stuff set up is becoming nonsense because the writers retcon EVERY damn episode. Also….why the hell is Stolas telling Ozzie his feelings for Blitz? Out of all people, why is it Ozzie, the person who outed Stolas and embarrassed him. Why is Stolas even respectful of Ozzie? He has no reason to, and he’s not under the impression that he’s dating Fizz either. I get that he needs the crystal but mentioning his love for Blitz makes no sense.

- Striker and Crimson teaming up to kidnap Blitz and Fizz was such an ass puller last minute decision. It feels overwhelming and underwhelming at the same time, more because it feels like Viv has no idea what to do with these two villain characters other than give them something evil to do to start the plot. Also…why…are they working together? It feels so random.

- Striker’s character especially is all over the place. First he’s working for Stella, then he’s painted as the best assassin in hell, and now he’s…looking for more work I guess and working for Crimson? Why? Does this guy even have a motive anymore? It feels like his character is just dangling around until Viv wants to use him for another wattpad kidnap plot and it ESPECIALLY shows when Striker escapes for the THIRD fucking time. Can this character/storyline actually GO somewhere or are you just going to keep introducing him and have him run away. 🤦🏽‍♀️

— How did Crimson not know who Striker is despite him being labeled as “the most popular assassin in hell”, and how the hell does Crimson know Ozzie and know all the information about him being in a relationship with Fizz?? Oh right because we needed the plot to happen somehow. Still, even if Crimson did know that Ozzie was the "weakest" and loved Fizz, (which….what about Beezlebub?)) he still should have known he was playing with fire. I get that he's supposed to be evil and intimidating but how could he have predicted that Ozzie would actually stand down and fill out the paperwork? He could have immediately came there and killed Crimson for all he knew. It's just distracting how..not planned this shit was.

- Fuck this episode for calling Striker a supremacist. It makes no sense?? Viv is trying SO hard to villainize him despite him being the one in the right and it pisses me off. He has every right to be mad at the upper class, he’s part of the lower class that we’re said Hell takes advantage of, but god forbid we call out Rich and powerful Stolas because that would mean he’s a b-bad person and we can’t have that complex morality! This is so not a “eat the rich” story and it shows bc Vivzie is rich as hell. Striker as a character deserves so much better man. Congrats writers, you had an interesting character and motive set up for him, now he’s nothing but a silly goon that you might as well kill off already cause you clearly don’t care about him. Crimson meanwhile is just a piece of paper, a boring plot device I could give less of a shit about. I thought his motive was to go after Moxxie, now he’s just doing fuck whatever because this show desperately wants a bad guy for their filler fanfic plots.

- We get more world building issues, Ozzie and Fizz are so determined to hide their relationship for obvious reasons, but then at the end of the episode just say “fuck it, no one would dare tell anyway”. So now they’re being open about their relationship and lmao I told y’all the newspaper scene of Ozzie being called out for being a hypocrite wouldn’t go anywhere. Even if Ozzie did threaten his workers to not tell, they can’t be so sure that someone wouldn’t see or snitch, it’s kinda a retcon too cause they were pretty lovey dovey in Ozzie’s. Still, it makes the characters look dumb and it makes the rules Viv set up for Hell once again not mean anything.

- We finally get to see Fizz’s backstory in action and it’s executed in the most underwhelming way possible. It’s literally a fucking 10 second clip of what went down, and rather than experiencing the event for ourselves, it’s in flashback mode but with Fizz’s voice talking over it. That’s it. I’ve seen fan comics/fanart that built this shit up better than Viv did, that actually took the slow time and dedication it needed, and here it feels like such an afterthought, like Viv could care less. Maybe if this actually was a character driven show like Viv claims, Stolas, Striker, and Crimson would be taken out of the picture and then that would leave us with PLENTY time to actually explore and develop Blitz/Fizz, bc most of this episode is just them pettily bickering and Stolas and Ozzie sitting around. But nah, we gatta have our fanfic kidnapping plot. Same goes for the reveal of Blitzo’s mom dying in the same fire. Glad to know that she got the same treatment Moxxie’s mom did, where we don’t even know her and yet we’re supposed to feel moved and care about her death. You nailed that one Viv. 👍

- I predicted that this episode would victimize Blitz and have the fire incident be an accident, (because Viv is a pussy writer and can’t make her characters actually do bad things like god forbid) but I never thought they’d actually have the balls to have Fizz forgive Blitz immediately in the same episode and pull the “actually turns out that horrible thing you did to me helped me in a way”- trope. Biggest flaw of the episode, fuck you Viv. I was actually going to applaud Blitz for taking accountability, but then the dialogue reminds you that an abuser wrote this, and he shifts his apology to “okay but I lost something too see so it’s not all about you” as if he’s fucking dismissing Fizz’s trauma and making it about himself. “I love flawed characters” my fucking ass. I would have smacked a bitch if I was Fizz because Blitzo loosing his mother in the fire too isn’t an excuse?? Fizz lost his fucking ARMS AND LEGS, and at the end of the day Blitzo STILL KNEW HE WAS HELPLESS IN THE FIRE BUT LEFT HIM BEHIND. He could have gotten help and came back, but didn’t. If this were a good show Fizz would have threw that apology back in Blitzo’s face and said “I don’t care if it was an accident or not, you still left me there and then proceeded to loathe me for years”. This is why Helluva will never be Bojack cause at least characters in that show who got treated horribly by him knew when to say “no, fuck you.”

- The episode retcons again, this time they make it out to be that Blitz TRIED contacting Fizz the years they were apart but no one would let him see him. Then they say that Fizz actually WANTED to see Blitz but assumed he didn’t want to, so their entire feud was solely because of miscommunication?? Number one, show don’t fucking tell omg. And number two, that makes ZERO sense. Blitz talked badly about Fizz in Loo Loo Land, and when they finally reunited in Ozzie’s, it was clear they fucking loathed each other. You got the impression that Blitz was petty and jealous just because Fizz was more popular, and Fizz not only loathed him for the accident, but liked to rub in his face about how much of a big shot he was. They literally do that in this episode too, so the episode is literally contradicting itself. Blitz and Fizz had multiple chances to meet up with each other, you can’t just say “oh they couldn’t because no one would let them”- So which is it? Did they hate each other because of bad blood, petty drama, or that they thought the other didn’t want to see them? Pick ONE Viv and stick to it, but she never does. Their feud was interesting and now you ruined it just to have some sweet happy ending. “Adult mature show” my ass lol.

-Bottom line is Fizz shouldn’t have forgave Blitz so easily, or forgave him period. I find it funny how he says “it’s hard to just forgive you” and then he literally does lol. I feel so bad for Fizz fans, him and Blitz’s feud was honestly interesting, so to see all of this go down in a half-assed piss poor way as if this was Care Bears is….wow. The fan interpretations had more thought and care put into this storyline but what else is new lol.

- I’m really tired of these shitty annoying songs. If you’re going to get Broadway actors, please put effort into your songwriting and actually have them sing something good, not something that’s literally nonsense. This Fizz song sounds like it took less than a minute to write and Sam Haft was just thinking of anything he could think of at the top of his head. Also Why the fuck are Striker and Crimson just STANDING there while Fizz sings. They look like idiots, just SHOOT them omg. If this were a funny show, Fizz would have started his first note and Crimson just rolls his eyes and pulls his gun out.

- Fizz and Ozzie kill the lawyer but not…Crimson? Despite Fizz knowing what ring he’s in and even Ozzie knowing what he looks like? Same for Blitz, he doesn’t try to make sure Striker is dead. I get that the plot demands for these two to still be around, but there’s a way to keep them alive without making the main characters look like fucking idiots. Also Stolas just leaves without doing or contributing anything to the plot yay.

- Fizz: “Let him have it, you could say he’s earned it”— Uhm….Nope. Blitz did NOT earn shit. He didn’t even earn Fizz’s forgiveness. Last time I checked, the moment Blitz cried and said it was an accident, Fizz forgave him, knowing he didn’t mean it. What effort did Blitz do to “earn” that as well as the crystal? Because he saved Fizz and didn’t leave him behind for the SECOND time near the end?? Cause if so than the bar is extremely low. That’s the bare minimum, just because Blitz cried and felt bad about it doesn’t mean he should be let off the hook Viv. I hate this so much, what a shitty conclusion, it feels forced just so Blitz can have the crystal and just so the writers can once again paint him as the one in the right. It’s almost insulting that they make it seem like Fizz was in the wrong for assuming Blitz starting the fire too, same for Barbie.

God what a shitty day it is to be a Fizz fan, I’m sorry. The episode did NOT do him justice. Fizzarolli deserved better than that half assed gaslighting apology for someone who lost their arms and legs man, and I’m tired of the show letting every character suck up to Blitz and Stolas for their horrible treatment just because they feel bad. Not only that but the episode (as most recent HB episodes) was a huge time waster. Everyone was really hoping for an in depth walkthrough of his character/backstory but again, when he’s not with Ozzie, the rest/most of his screen time is dedicated to him being helpless and pointlessly arguing with Blitz, plus a long dragged out nonsense song that didn’t need to happen. It felt like SO much time was wasted when we could have used the runtime we have to dive deeper and see more, like….again it would have been nice to see Fizz’s life AFTER the accident and how he became well known as well as how he fell in love with Ozzie, but his backstory is briefly scratched upon in a single scene and that’s it, all because Viv wanted this filler plot and wanted to dedicate more time to THAT rather than actual character expansion/development, something we could have got had you took out Stolas and Ozzie’s B plot and Striker and Crimson.

Viv is so on her way to murder/ruin every character that isn’t Blitz and Stolas and I won’t be here to watch further. I’ll check out the Mammon music video thing but that’s it man, this show is going off the rails, Adding Fizz to the character adoption list!

#vivziepop critical #spindlehorse critical #helluva boss critical #helluva boss critique #helluva boss criticism #helluva critical #anti vivziepop #helluva boss #fizzaroiii #fizzaroli helluva boss #helluva boss oops #helluva boss review #vivziepop criticism

[sapphsorrows]

"people only pick on trans people because they're easy targets" yeah no shit they're easy targets just like flat earthers and antivaxxers. what they believe is absolutely fucking insane when you think about it for more than 2 seconds.

the idea of trans is no different from the idea of predestination.

predestination says only those who have been chosen by god will be saved and will go to heaven. how do you know you're predestined? there is literally no way to tell externally. there is no test you take to make sure you're predestined. you just have to put your faith in jesus and know, internally, in your heart, or whatever. funny how literally everyone who believes this also happens to be one of the ~chosen ones~.

the idea of being trans is that some people are born in the wrong body. how do you know you're born in the wrong body? there is literally no external way to tell, aside from maybe a few "am I trans?" quizlets (which as we all know are 100% accurate always and only made by professionals and not 12 year old furries). you just look inside, or whatever, and somehow "know" or you decide for yourself. then, based on your own self-reporting, which you have no way to externally verify, you expect people to bend to your will and you expect society to give you special privileges that no one else gets. no other man gets to pee in the ladies' or compete in women's sports but once you self-id as trans? well, right this way "ma'am", pay no mind to the women cowering in fear of you. their rights don't matter nearly as much as your feelings. funny how damn near everyone who believes in this also happens to be trans themselves, will a few outliers.

even "gender critical" transes like mr. blaire white and ms. buck angel will talk in hours upon hours of videos about the importance of gatekeeping and protecting women's spaces, yet /they/ demand the exact same privileges as every other "fake" (in their words) trans person on tiktok. do you seriously think "fake" trans people are going to listen to you and suddenly not go into the women's? No! are you fucking kidding me? it's so much easier to tell a buck or a blaire to fuck off than it is to a delusional fetishist who will 100% either hurt you or make a scene. there is no "true trans" because EVERYONE claims to be truly trans, everyone from bruce jenner to the "IT IS MA'AM" gamestop dude.

it fucking baffles me how youtube skeptics - people i used to admire, people who taught me how to think critically about shit - will spend all damn day dunking on flat earthers and creationists but will turn a blind eye to the trans cray and will even go as far as to support them. they think they're so above it all and they can't be fooled, but they have been, and I keep waiting for them to snap out of it - just like I waited for my own family to snap out of christianity - but they haven't.

if you seriously think a dress and some hormones and plastic surgery will make a man into a woman, you're insane, and you're no more crazy than a youtuber who thinks antarctica is an ice wall or a pastor who still prays to his "sky daddy". you have no right to make fun of these people for the insane shit they believe when you believe in this nonsense. you are quite literally the pot calling the kettle black.

and if you're one of those people who's like "oh well i know they're not actually women i just call them that to avoid hurting their feelings" im sorry but you're still in this cult, you're physically in but mentally out and the only way to really get out is to call a spade a spade, admit the emperor has no clothes, admit you were fooled just like me - just like all of us - and speak out against it.

#trans cult #gender critical #peak trans

[pugh-bug]

No.42 - Chapter 1

Art Donaldson x reader : slow burn friends to lovers

I finally wrote chapter 1, I hope you all enjoy it! I’m excited for this slow burn

You widened your eyes at Patrick’s casual declaration. As his words: ‘Art’s gonna come live with us for a while’ hung in the air, you watched your best friend of ten years destroy a churro like it didn’t matter. Flat No.42 had been your sanctuary for four years with nothing but Patrick’s film commentating disrupting your peace. The two of you had a rhythm. An understanding of how the other lived and wanted to live, a schedule for taking out the recycling that Patrick stubbornly ignored.

You had game nights, movie marathons all without anyone having to third wheel. You weren’t ready to give that up, not even for Art Donaldson a man you’d been acting a fool around since Patrick introduced you.

‘Y/N,’

As usual your face concealed nothing.

‘Be good about this okay? Liam kicked him out to move in with his girlfriend, the least I can do is let him live with us for a while.’

You tried to picture watching tv with Art or looking up from your cereal in the morning to be greeted with his sleepy, cute face and messy curls. It took half a second before Patrick asked why you were smiling and even less for you to force a complexed frown.

‘Okay so when’s he moving in?’

Patrick wiped his sugar dusted hands on his ‘I told ya’ shirt, gaging your reaction with amusement. ‘Today, probably 6.’ So much notice - not that you were surprised the man once woke you up 2 hours before a flight he forgot he’d booked for the two of you.

‘Thanks for the heads up.’

——————————————————————

Forever the most organised member of the fire and ice duo, Art was at your door at 6pm exactly. Patrick opened the door as if it was Christmas Day and Art was Santa himself, you’d seen him smile brightly countless times but he actually glowed around Art. It was sweet, only sometimes sickeningly, and you understood the obsession. Art was the type of person lonely people craved.

‘Have my room, I’ll take the sofabed.’

Art broke away from Patrick’s bear hug to widen his eyes. You couldn’t help but smile at Art’s reaction to his friends generous offer. Patrick had a way of being there for his friends in such a way that never made them feel like they owed him. He had always been kind because of who he was, not for any accolades yet it somehow seemed to amaze Art every time.

‘Y/N,’ He turned to look at you, walking over confidently. The two of you had only started hugging in the last month, and usually only at the end of days spent with Patrick. He always hugged Patrick first.

‘Welcome to our piece of shit flat,’ you chuckled, as Art pulled you into a short but sweet hug. It took all of your strength. and did every time, not to pull him even closer to you. He always smelt of strawberry scented shampoo and the occasional cigarette which on anyone else you would have hated, you didn’t smoke, but on Art was heaven.

Art liked his own space, as did you, so for a few hours you let him unpack and relax on his own whilst you caught up on work. It wasn’t until Patrick ransacked his/Art’s room for a tie that the equilibrium of the flat was disturbed. ‘I’ve got a date!’ He exclaimed, ignoring the horror in Art’s face. He’d been on his twentieth push up and hated being watched.

Rushing out the door, using one hand to dress himself and the other to text the girl he was going to be late, Patrick made a lot of noise. You and Art were stood in the living room watching his antics with equal amounts of amusement and judgement. When he finally made it outside, Art watched you lock the door behind him.

‘Lucky girl.’

You raised an eyebrow, not sure if he was joking.

‘She won’t feel it when he eats all her food as well as his.’

Art smiled at your quip, knowing it was absolutely true, and thought to himself how nice it was going to be to get to know you better.

Chapter 2

#challengers #challengers art donaldson #art donaldson fan fic #art donaldson fanfic #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson friends to lovers #art donaldson slow burn #challengers slow burn #art donaldson #no.42

[moonstruckme]

And then I have one but idk which marauder to make it for so I’ll let you pick whoever you think it fits better. I have to take medicine for my OCD and anxiety but it’s embarrassing. So I’m like imagining who you pick staying the night with the reader and her skipping her medicine because she’s embarrassed but being off medicine messes you up. So clearly the reader would be alittle down and out of it so her friend asks her if she’s okay and if she took her medicine. Welllllll the marauder hears that and later that night when they are getting ready for bed he simply hands her a glass and asks her to take her medicine please and mentions how he wants all of her that includes the quirks, need for medicine, and need for comfort sometimes too.

I decided to make this part of the Sirius x Remus' roommate saga, hope that's alright! Thanks for requesting sweetheart <3

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

cw: some symptoms of withdrawal, reader takes prescription meds

modern au

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

Apparently, even when Sirius gets you out of your flat for the weekend, Remus is still always in the middle of things. 

“I can’t believe you got him to watch New Girl,” Remus complains over speakerphone as you make yourself a cup of tea. Sirius had offered to do it for you, but you’d brushed him off, and he’d been too busy secretly delighting in how comfortable you are in his flat to argue further. “James and I have been trying to get him to watch the first episode for years.” 

“Mmm, you’ve got to start on season three to get people interested, then go back,” you tell him wisely. “I showed him my favorite episode, the one with…uh…”

You trail off, and Sirius looks at you over the top of the couch. There’s a dissatisfied pinch between your brows.

“The one with the spider?” Remus prompts knowingly. 

“Right.” You blink a couple of times, refocusing on your mug as you pour hot water in over the teabag. “That one.” 

“Well, the apartment is quiet without you, but I’m glad you’re having fun.” 

Sirius’ mouth curls as he waits for your response. Though he sometimes still gets jealous of the easy intimacy between you as roommates, he’s come to enjoy the entertainment value of your banter with Remus. The apartment’s just as quiet with me, you’ll say, or You don’t even want to know what kind of fun we’re having. 

But your gaze has gone distant, and after a few seconds, the reply doesn’t seem like it’s going to come. 

Sirius feels worry snake around his ribcage, a light but noticeable pressure. A few hours ago, you’d complained of a headache, and ever since then you’ve seemed in an odd headspace. You’re quieter than you’ve ever been around him, you claimed not to feel like lunch, and he’s caught you stumbling or losing track of your thoughts on more than a couple occaisions. He’d asked once if you’d wanted to go home, but you’d promised you were fine and Sirius didn’t want to push the issue. He loves having you here, he really does, but he hopes it’s nothing about being in his home that’s making you seem so…off. He’d compromised by suggesting you show him that show you’re always referencing (Remus and James were right, it actually is pretty good) in the hopes that a few hours of relaxation would help restore you to yourself, but you don’t seem to be feeling better. 

Even over the phone, Remus picks up on it too. “You alright?” 

“Mm?” You blink. “Oh, yeah.” There’s a forced cheer to your voice, and Sirius watches as you roll your shoulders as if bracing yourself. “I’m just a little tired, I guess.” 

Remus hums, the sound crackling through the speaker. “Did you take your medicine last night?” 

You take him off speaker. Sirius turns when your eyes dart towards where he’s sitting on the couch, taking the coward’s way out on instinct and pretending he wasn’t paying attention. 

“I’m fine,” you say quietly into the phone. Sirius can’t hear Remus well enough anymore to make out his response, but he recognizes the slow, coaxing inflection of his friend’s voice. Your own tone sharpens in contrast, though you sound heartbreakingly exhausted. “I’ve got it. Yep, thanks. See you tomorrow.” 

You blow on your tea as you join Sirius on the couch, not a trace of apprehension about you. He extends his arm invitingly, and you slot underneath it like it’s home. 

“I gather you two aren’t used to time apart,” he teases, trying to entice a smile from you. 

It works, albeit only slightly. The curve of your lips is minute, but he’ll take it. “We’re both homebodies,” you say simply. “We’ve grown too used to being around each other.” 

“His privilege and your curse,” Sirius laments, exaggerating his grunt when you elbow him in the ribs. “Fine, you’re both very lucky. I’m just glad I managed to snag you for one weekend.” When he aims a saccharine smile your way, he suspects you set your cheek on his shoulder as a ploy to hide your blush. It melts him regardless, like ice cream in the summertime. “Want to watch another episode, lovely girl?” 

He frowns when all that gets out of you is a hum, rubbing your bicep as he presses play. 

He manages to get some dinner into you by insisting you try takeaway from his favorite Thai place in the neighborhood, and you seem amenable to the idea of an early night, all but drooping over the sink as you brush your teeth. 

Sirius will never admit it, but his heart is pounding as he takes a glass down from above the kitchen sink, filling it with water. He hopes this isn’t a massive overreach. This thing between you is still relatively new, and the last thing he wants is to make your first stay at his place awkward for either of you, but he cares about you. From what Sirius can tell, you’ve withdrawn into what seems like an unhappy place inside your head, and he can’t just leave you there by yourself. 

He catches you just as you’re leaving the bathroom, passing you the glass of water as casually as he can, as if it's the most routine thing in the world, before taking your place at the sink. “Don’t forget your medicine,” he says softly, taking his toothbrush from beside yours in the cup.

For a moment, you’re quiet. Sirius squirts toothpaste onto his brush, trying his damndest not to look for your reaction in the mirror. 

“You heard Remus on the phone.” It’s almost a whisper. Nowhere close to a question.

“I didn’t mean to,” Sirius apologizes, glancing up at your reflection. You’re looking distant again, your gaze fixed somewhere to the left of his face. “I’m sorry if I heard something you didn’t want me to, but it’s…did you forget?” 

You take another long moment to reply. Sirius is careful to stay quiet, giving you space as you chew your lip, but when your eyes meet his in the mirror you look so crestfallen his heart nearly stops. “I didn’t forget,” you admit. “It’s just so embarrassing, I didn’t want you to know.” 

He can’t stay still anymore. His toothpaste drops with a wet smack into the bowl of the sink when he sets his toothbrush on the rim, and he’s got your hands in his in a second. “Sweetheart, what do you mean?” He keeps ahold of one of your hands, letting his other one coast up your arm to your shoulder, where his thumb massages your collarbone familiarly. “It’s not embarrassing. It’s just, it’s something you need to be yourself. Like…my sparkly doc martens, you know? Or Remus’ chocolate hoards.” 

Your laugh is brief, more a huffed exhale than anything, but Sirius grins at you nonetheless. His hand moves up to cup the back of your neck, thumb soothing over the edge of your jaw. 

“You know what I really like about you?” he asks. You don’t look inclined to answer, but your left brow flicks up as if to say Go on. “Everything.” 

You scoff, seeming lighter even as you pull away from grasp. “Shut up.” 

“No, really,” he insists, vying for your hand back. “Getting to know you, it’s been amazing. Every new thing I learn is just something more to like.” You finally stop fighting him, eyes wary as he grips you by the shoulders, keeping you in place. “I want to learn everything there is to know about you, whenever you’ll let me. And I know I can’t expect it all at once,” he says, voice dropping into a more sincere register, “but I want all of it, including the parts you think—wrongly, I might add—are embarrassing.” He gives your upper arms a light squeeze. “Got that, pretty girl?”

A light blush colors your cheeks, and Sirius grins. You’re getting harder to fluster these days, but he delights in making it happen whenever he can. “Okay,” you say, still a tad sheepish for his liking. He plants a kiss on your cheek. 

“Good. Now go get your meds. I don’t want you passing out during breakfast tomorrow because of withdrawal.” 

“That’s not how it works,” you snipe, but he hears the rattle of pills as you dig through your overnight bag. 

“Whatever,” he says breezily, picking up his toothbrush to put a new dollop of paste onto it. “I just can’t reckon with the idea that Remus still knows things about you I don’t. Shouldn’t I outrank him by now?” 

“You’ve had roommates,” you tell him, coming back into the bathroom with the glass of water half empty. “You’re really going to tell me that they don’t know more about you than I do right now?”

Sirius makes a noncommittal, muffled sound, pointing to his toothpaste-filled mouth as excuse not to answer. 

“Right,” you say drily. “Maybe we should call your pal Remus and see if he happens to recall.” 

Sirius has never spit so fast in his life. 

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x fem!reader #roommate!remus #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fic #sirius black fluff #sirius black angst #sirius black hurt/comfort #sirius black imagine #sirius black drabble #sirius black oneshot #sirius black scenario #sirius black series #the marauders #remus lupin #marauders #marauders era #marauders fanfic #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #the marauders era #marauders fandom #hp marauders

[whereianonymouslypostfics]

Deprived

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~2.6k

Summary: Top embarrassing moments at work with the Maximoffs

A/N: This seemed like the most humorous way to introduce sexting.

Warnings: fluff, sexting, toys, and sibling embarrassment

You can’t help but laugh at Pietro as you finish the last dregs of your drink with a sigh. You and your family had just finished a weekly dinner at your house, and it’s getting late. You aren’t sure who started the current conversation, but given how embarrassed Pietro is, for once, you don’t think that he is the one causing trouble.

You listen to him deny that he’d done anything compromising in his office at the compound, but the more he protests, the less you believe him. Stealing a glance at Wanda, you see how dubious she appears as well and realize that you’re right to doubt Pietro.

Wanda mutters something under her breath that Pietro hears and unsurprisingly disagrees with. You just decide to wait and see where this goes because you honestly can’t think of something more embarrassing that Wanda may have experienced at work.

“Yeah, right! You’ve definitely done worse than that, Wanda.”

“Actually no, I haven’t.”

There’s a beat of silence as the twins glare at each other, but then you hear someone clear their throat and you turn to the other side of the deck with a frown. You see Steve shooting the Maximoff twins a sheepish look, no just Wanda, before he takes a sip of the whiskey you’d just finished.

“Actually, I can think of something.”

Wanda was beyond frustrated at how the day had gone for her. It was nearly 9pm and she had been out and busy with meetings since she was forced to leave you in bed at 7am. She swore that if she wasn’t so used to micromanaging things, she would give the reins to her brother to take care of the aftermath of today. She didn’t want to think about the fallout right now, nor how she had a nearly 2 hour car ride until she was home. You would likely be asleep by then which just put her in a worse mood. 

She hated to leave you, especially after she promised that she’d spend time with you. She hadn’t promised the whole day because that wasn’t something she could do very often, even if it was Saturday. However, she had promised you breakfast in bed, but that had turned into 30 seconds of coffee in bed when Steve had called with the bad news. 

So Wanda left you to deal with the most recent work crisis, and you spent most of the day alone and slightly miffed. You didn’t waste the day away; however, and you spent the morning hiking with your dog before baking and watching cooking shows all afternoon. You made a cheesecake, a pie, and brownies before you realized that you should make something for dinner. You probably should eat a vegetable. 

This led to you making one of your favorite meals, and you ate your shrimp stir fry on the couch in front of the TV with Boone at your feet. By the time 8pm rolled around you decided to walk Boone one last time before showering and crawling in bed. You hadn’t heard from Wanda all day, but this wasn’t abnormal. You seldom heard from her when she worked, but for some reason, today it annoyed you. 

Sitting in bed slightly cold, and alone, you considered what could have happened this morning if your wife had stayed like you both had wanted. You smiled at the thought of how your other lazy mornings have gone, and you sigh in defeat before switching off the light and lying down with a frown. You roll onto your side before looking to your phone on the bedside table. You hesitate before grabbing it and unlocking it to see your text thread with Wanda. 

You wonder if she’s still working. How long until she comes home? You never really know the answer to this, but despite how this morning went, it seems that you’re in luck tonight. Your phone buzzes in your hand, and you see that Wanda’s texted. 

-I’ll be home in a little over an hour. -

You smile at this before you lie flat on your back stare at the ceiling. You sigh heavily before shifting under the covers mindlessly. You almost fall asleep, but your thoughts have drifted to something that makes you throw the covers off of you. You’re overheating and you slip your hands under your shirt to remove it before rolling back onto your stomach with a sigh. 

You’re near sleep again when you remember that you didn’t respond to your wife’s text. You see that it was nearly 40 minutes ago and you curse before you type out a quick response. 

You stop short of sending your ‘see you soon’ message, and you stare at it for a few seconds before smiling widely. You decide to take advantage of the line of communication that you’ve been granted. You just hope that Wanda’s not working on the way home because if so, it’s likely your message will go ignored. 

Wanda’s staring out the window frowning deeply at nothing in particular. It was too dark to see much more than the silhouette of trees they pass every once in a while. She’d concluded that you must be asleep since you hadn’t answered her text, which was disappointing, but understandable. She’d almost convinced herself to try and get some work out of the way when her phone vibrates in her hand close to an hour after she’d texted you. 

-Can’t wait. I might get started without you.-

Wanda frowns in confusion as she reads your message again, then once more before she decides that maybe she woke you up from a nap. She texts back a question that you take barely any time to respond to. She has to take a deep breath before she shifts in her seat and thinks about how to respond to you. 

-What are you starting on without me? -

-I’ll give you a hint. No clothes are involved. -

Wanda types out a reply slowly as she looks up to see that Steve is still focusing on the road. He has to be relieved that all of the day’s meetings are over too. She knows that she’s not always the most pleasant person to be around, especially when stressed. 

Wanda taps send and waits to see how you respond.

You’re rolling onto your back with a groan as you try to push your shorts off with the least amount of effort possible. You sigh in relief and throw them toward the end of the bed with your shirt before you shake yourself out like a dog. You smile, already feeling better now that you’re not so hot, and reach for your phone. 

You figure that Wanda is going to play coy, or maybe even tease you. Instead, her response makes you stiffen and kicks your heart rate up a bit. 

-You better not be doing what I think you are. – 

You can’t help the giddy noise that leaves you at your wife’s not-so-subtle threat. You consider how you’d like to play this, but it doesn’t take much thought at all. You’ve always loved to push Wanda’s buttons, and knowing how much she loves it too makes you all the more eager to tease. You type out a response before setting your phone beside you on the bed. You close your eyes and imagine what you’d do next if Wanda were by your side. 

-You better hurry home if you plan to stop me.-

You ignore the vibrating phone for a few minutes just to make Wanda tick. You run your finger through your hair, pushing it out of your eyes as your other hand slides up your leg. You stop to rest it against your stomach and you sigh heavily as your phone starts to ring. You smile and let your hand drop between your legs before you bother to answer.

Wanda’s typing furiously when she realizes that you’re ignoring her. She imagines you’re lying in bed naked and bored out of your mind. She knows how active of an imagination you have, and if you’ve already taken off your clothes from feeling overheated, well anything could happen. 

She’s doing her best to try and stop this when she realizes that her three texts are going unread. She glances at Steve again before she curses herself for not choosing the car that has a privacy divider. Today had been so busy that she hadn’t planned on needing one for the drive. She’s really regretting her choices right now. Still, she barely hesitates to call you. 

By the fourth ring, Wanda’s getting annoyed and you’re smiling so wide that your cheeks hurt. Still, you don’t say anything immediately when you slide the green button across your screen. You close your eyes after the call connects, and simply hum when Wanda speaks up. 

“Y/n?”

Your lack of response makes Wanda tense and she has to push down the urge to speak above a whisper. She is too aware of Steve’s presence, but she’s also not going to wait until she’s at home to talk to you. 

“Y/n, what are you doing?” 

You can tell by her tone, that your wife is irked and you have to stop yourself from laughing because you know that will just make it worse. 

“Hi Wands.” 

Wanda simply frowns at your avoidance of her question before she sits up straighter at the sound of something rustling in the background. She accidentally makes eye contact with Steve, but she quickly looks away before she tries to ask casually. 

“What are you up to, detka?” 

You think of all the ways that you can answer this question, but none of them feel appropriate. None of them are sufficient to describe how you shove your hand between your legs and touch yourself. For this reason, you decide to just let Wanda listen. 

You take a deep breath and set you phone down on your chest, and a shiver shoots through you at the contact. You shift to get more comfortable before you groan as you slide your fingers over your clit. 

“Fuck.” 

Your breathy curse has Wanda tightening her grip on her phone, and she grits her teeth to hold herself back. 

“Y/n…”

You ignore your wife and continue to work yourself up, and you barely hear her speak to Steve as she tries to keep your moans from drifting to the front seat. 

“Steve, can you turn on the radio, please?” 

Even the sound of a familiar rock song doesn’t completely drown you out, and Wanda wishes that she could see what you were doing. Better yet, she wishes she was with you so she could put a stop to this. Or rather take charge. 

“Y/n, if you don’t stop right now, you’re going to regret it.” 

You can’t help the breathy laugh that leaves you when Wanda says this. You can imagine the look on her face right now and you shudder at the thought. The only times you’ve dared to laugh in Wanda’s face at a time like this, she kept her word about making you regret it. The distance between you two makes you bold and your fingers pick up speed before you release a groan that’s loud enough for Steve to hear. 

“Really because I think I’ll regret it if I stop?” 

Wanda considers telling Steve to pull over so she can switch places with him. Well she’d drive them like a bat out of hell, but she’d keep you on the phone somehow. She’s not sure how that would work, and she cringes when she realizes that you’ve caught Steve’s attention. Why hadn’t she brought her headphones? 

Wanda makes sure that the volume is turned down as far as possible before she sighs heavily. She’s thinking about how she’s going to make you pay for this when she hears something she immediately recognizes as a drawer opening. Wanda stiffens further before she turns her head to try and muffle her voice as much as possible. 

“Don’t you dare, Y/n. I swear--.” 

Wanda’s cut off by the unmistakable sound of a vibrator, and she nearly bangs her head against the window in frustration. In her fury, she misses the way that Steve’s eyes widen and he turns up the radio as discreetly as possible. Wanda can hear your moans getting louder as you switch the settings, and she curses in frustration. 

“Steve, drive faster.” 

Surprisingly, Steve doesn’t argue and Wanda focuses on the revving of the engine instead of the sounds that are coming through the phone. Her face is flushed in arousal and annoyance, but she’s not sure which is stronger as she listens to you get closer to the edge. She knows she won’t make it home in time, but she at least feels comforted by the fact that she won’t have to wait too long to get her hands on you. 

“I’ll be home in half an hour.” 

Undoubtedly listening, Steve speeds up even further, and if she weren’t so embarrassed by the fact that he’s certainly heard you, she’d thank him. Instead, she scowls when you barely hum in acknowledgement before you come with moan that makes Wanda shudder violently. She curses and slams her phone on her leg before taking a deep breath. Her only comfort is that Steve is going close to 80 mph. 

Wanda hears you let out a loud sigh before you shift once again before something drops onto the dresser. Wanda’s biting her lip so hard that she draws blood, but she ignores it as she promptly hangs up on you. 

“I’ll be waiting, Wands.” 

No one says anything when Steve finishes telling an abbreviated version of what happened several months ago. He looks between you and Wanda, and he’s not sure who looks more embarrassed. You’re staring into your glass with your cheeks burning brighter than anything else in the room. At least that’s what it feels like. Wanda looks mortified and she opens her mouth a couple of times to make an excuse, but she honestly can’t.

Unsurprisingly, Pietro speaks up first and it only makes his sister scowl while you just blush so hard you feel lightheaded.

“Damn, sestra, didn’t think you had it in you.”

Before Wanda can argue or at the very least tell her brother to shut up, you shoot your wife a glare that does nothing to hide your embarrassment.

“You never said that Steve was listening!”

You can’t believe that this never came up, and that Wanda didn’t just hang up on you. Honestly, of all your friends, he’s the best-case scenario because he’s so discreet and loyal. God forbid Yelena had been in the car, she would have teased you mercilessly. That said, you’re sure that your wife would have just hung up on you if she’d been in the car.

Wanda sighs before she shakes her head and tries her best to force down her embarrassment. Everyone in the room has had sex before, it wasn’t a big deal.

“You just weren’t paying attention, Y/n.”

You scowl in response, mostly because you can’t argue with your wife, but you simply shake your head before sitting back against the couch with a huff. You glare at Pietro who opens his mouth to speak, but luckily, he takes the hint, and decides to reach for his drink instead. You sigh in defeat again before you reach out for your dog who’s come to sniff around for food.

“You know, I liked it better when we were talking about you, Piet.”

Masterlist

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda x reader #silver springs #silver springs drabble #mob au

[writingsfromhome]

Dos and Don’ts of H Styles

A/N: this story was literally born out of the wifi incident happening to me. It was a weird experience lol but of course it inspired me to write a story around it. Basically you used to work for Harry as a PA and your life was hell. You bump into him in the present but before it unfolds we need to know what happened in the past.

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

——————————————

I watch as Winnie types into her phone the number of the guy who’d just hit on her.

“And that’s with a y?” She looks up at him with doe eyes.

“Yea,” he falls for it. He was cute, and she worked a lot I didn’t blame her for taking who she could get. His accent also helped. “What’re you doin’ now?”

“Well,” her eyes slide to me. “Hanging with my girlfriend here.”

He nods at me and I smile, holding up the almost empty glass. “We were just about done for the night though.”

“We were?” Winnie checks in with me.

“Mhm,” I give her an encouraging nod.

Both Winnie and I were employed by musician-turned-actor Oretta Smith. Winnie was her nanny—or childcare companion as she called it, and I worked as Oretta’s executive assistant. It was full-time and demanding as hell but ever since Oretta had her first child a couple months back I’d gotten a lot more breathing room as she minimized her public life and stayed close to home.

This long weekend Oretta was staying with her in-laws and asked us to take it off. I’d already requested the weekend off knowing we were in London but being off at the same time as Winnie was impossible so we’d gone out to celebrate and let loose—9pm and only 2 drinks in, both of us had already started talking about the comfort of our beds. Until flirty dude came up to Winnie.

“What do you say?” Winnie’s new date asks her.

“Aw shucks alright,” Winnie flashes her beautiful smile and hops off the stool. I don’t even see her drop the bills onto the table as she hugs me goodbye and leaves until it’s too late. She’d covered for both of us. Well I’d get her back next time.

I finish the rest of my drink, eyes flicking to the reruns of tonight’s soccer game. This wasn’t the fanciest bar—it was quite homely compared to the ones Winnie and I often found ourselves at. But it was one I used to go to when I worked in London just over a year ago. Being back in the city, despite all the awful memories, pulled me towards the nostalgic comfort of it.

I remember the many dates with my now-ex, the random nights I’d actually get off, and drown myself in drink to forget about my awful employer. Or the birthday and milestone celebrations—especially the ones I started to miss near the end.

I consider walking the few streets over to my old flat. Coincidentally the job I’d gotten wasn’t far from home. The upside was that it made dealing with “emergency” texts from my employer a lot quicker but the downside was it grouped all the traumas I experienced in this beautiful city to a few blocks. I didn’t miss it.

I cut my memory lane rabbit-hole short and decide it was time to order an Uber and get out of here; I had an early train to catch tomorrow.

The bars on my phone flicker up and down as I open the app and continue to refresh it over and over. But my signal remains unstable.

“Stupid phone,” I mutter. I had to update my provider while I was here asap.

“‘Scuse me?” I wave down someone serving drinks. “Have you got wifi here?”

“Yep we do!” She smiles. “Name’s The Violinist and the password’s capital p….”

Her voice grows far away as my blood runs cold and I stare at the list of available wifi networks. I feel myself nod a thank you when she stops talking and she leaves taking the password with her while I’m stuck staring.

My networks:

🔗H’s iPhone

I want to duck down and run away, not spend another second around anything to do with that era of my life. But I also want to hunt him down and show him how much better I was doing after him, despite.

The second instinct wins. Kind of.

I don’t hide away. I scan the dimly lit room and try to spot the familiar head of hair but it’s on the third try that I spot him. And it’s probably because his hair is barely an inch long.

He must’ve cut it recently, I’m surprised. Him without his hair was like Harry Potter without his scar.

The feelings are instantaneous though. The loathing and the need to cry. My heart continues to race as I burn a hole into the side of his head.

He was the devil incarnate and I had thought about him for a second too long just now. And now here he was. What the fuck was a guy like him doing here?

I remember the awful times; the casually cruelty and the late nights he would make me work. His constant criticism. The way my life fell apart because of him. The way I could wring his neck with very little incentive at any given moment.

He had turned my whole life upside down. He ruined me.

Harry Styles wasn’t the sweetheart everyone painted him out to be.

And yet, a flash of a feeling, a fleeting memory I try to keep locked away pushes to the front of my mind.

“Fuck no,” I tell myself. There was no room for fondness when it came to the devil.

About 2 years ago:

I straighten out the blazer, wondering if I should be chic and roll the sleeves up a bit or just keep them down. My reflection shows a nervous mousy girl that’s trying too hard. I throw my hair into a ponytail instead and feel a more like myself. Just as the elevator doors ding open.

I’m in the penthouse suite I would be working out of for the next however long; it was my first day on the job and I was still sorting out my nervous to excited ratio.

After looking for months, I’d landed a PA gig for up-and-coming rockstar Harry Styles. It was a dream come true and everyone was ecstatic for me, most of all my boyfriend who’d helped me land the role.

My boyfriend, Grayson, was a personal trainer to a lot of big names and he’d been keeping his ear to the ground for me. We met a few years ago at the gym of course, I’d still been a student and he worked part-time at the student gym. Back then he was still working to get a better client list.

We’d clicked pretty quickly and Grayson, who was anything but shy, asked me out. Soon after he was telling me he had feelings for me and I’d felt them echo back the same. He was my biggest supporter and when I told him I wanted to take this career path seriously he’d been the first to show me what steps to take to get there.

My true dream was to become a publicist and work with celebrities, but fresh out of post-grad everyone told me I’d need to dive head first and get my hands dirty. And I’d have to do that by finding a PA role for a publicist or an industry person.

“Y/n?” My name interrupts my thoughts. It comes from a disembodied head peeking out from a doorway. “You are y/n right?”

“Yes!” I hurry over. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yes. I’m Mr. Styles’ exec assistant, I’m only here for the next,” he looks down at his watch. “Half hour perhaps? So let’s get you sorted before I head out.”

“Oh okay. Sure,” my ears ring, I was going to be alone on my first day. I didn’t even know he had an executive assistant. What was the difference between him and me? What if I screw up and this guy was part of the fallout plan? Shit. “Is Mr. Styles in?”

“Not at the moment, he’ll be in before noon. He has a few appointments this morning. Typically you’d be going with him but he left before you arrived so…next time. Make sure you get any paperwork he received from the appointments and file them in here-“ he points to a room with a filing cabinet. Like an actual cabinet. This was a tight ship. “You sound American. Are you American?”

“Yep,” I debate whether to tell him I stayed after doing my degree here but decide to keep the yapping to a minimum.

I continue following the EA—who I should get the name of, as he points out rooms and overlaps it with info about Mr. Styles’ schedule and routines. A lot of info. My brain felt like it was barely holding on.

I think about the man I was now working for, the one who came into the interview for a brief 10 minutes. Surely that laid-back guy wasn’t the anal mystery man I was getting all these instructions for.

The interview itself had gone pretty smoothly apart from the fact that I nervous-laughed a few times too many. I had gone silent when The Harry Styles had walked into the office. He’d sat beside me at the round table, slouching slightly and flashing me a reassuring smile—I had felt my shoulders dip down immediately.

“So it’s y/n right? I’m pronouncing that correctly?” He’d said in his perfectly charming accent.

“Yes, it’s so nice to meet you officially.” I had to tamp down every urge to gush over him. I was a professional. I was zen.

“So y/n,” he says my name so casually and yet I feel myself lean closer to hear him say it again. “I’ve seen a couple of you come in here for the PA role. What makes you different then?”

Think think, just be calm and think!

“Well I’m a very passionate person so I put my all into everything I do. That would include this job, and in turn you’d benefit by getting peace of mind knowing I’m tackling whatever behind the scenes items that need to get done to get you where you need to go.”

“Well said,” he says with a smile that says he knew he was very good looking. “Now trust is a big factor in this relationship.”

As he talks I forget his manager is even in this room. I’m swept up in the hazy green of his eyes.

“We’ve done the background checks and all that—right?” He looks to his manager who was interviewing me and gets a nod. “But how can you reassure me. My staff gets approached by the media daily for any info on me. What’s to say you don’t sell out.”

“I would never,” I didn’t even think of that being an option. “Confidentiality and trust is the biggest pillar of this role and I take it very seriously. You’re like, the biggest celeb of the last year but I know you’re also a person and I wouldn’t betray that. On a person level.”

“So even if you had a really bad day, say I had gotten you to do some impossible tasks. And you’re heading out head full of steam and you get approached by a reporter. £5k for an exclusive.”

I shake my head. “As tempting as it would be, professional ethics reign over any of that.”

“I believe you y/n,” his eyes flicker down to my file. “Good references. We’ll be in touch.”

Now my eyes roam around the small room I’m meant to work out of. It’s the size of 1.5 supply closets with half the walls filled with shelves and cabinets. There’s a small desk but I wasn’t sure how often I’d be sitting at it. All the PAs I’d ever connected with always complained about the amount of time you spend on your feet. That’s why I’d opted to buy myself runners when I got the job.

“Any questions—mind you I have 1 minute for them before I’m off? There’s a suit I have to sort out.” The EA turns to me when we circle back to my office/supply closet.

“Oh,” a million race through my mind. Nothing that would fit in a minute. “I um, I guess I didn’t catch your name?”

He seems surprised at that, and then he laughs. “Oh you’re a doll. This place is gonna eat you alive. I’m Riley and tip for you—don’t be so eager to please. Do your job. Do it well. But you’re not here to be liked or make friends alright?”

He laughs again when he looks at my face. He hands me an iphone and tells me it’s programmed with everything and everyone I needed, then waves goodbye leaving me in a confused spot.

I wasn’t naïve, I knew what working in this industry was like but I was could swear I’d landed a good gig with Harry Styles. And meeting the man himself in the interview had confirmed it.

Maybe Riley was just jaded by too many long hours.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. A text from Grayson: good luck on your first day babe. let me know how it goes.

I only have time to heart it when I hear the elevator open in the foyer. I rush out just for Harry to brush past me and his manager following, chattering away about something.

I follow from behind and watch as he heads to the kitchen. Riley had shown me what he laid out on the island and how I should do it going forward. And like two magnets Harry reaches for the exact bottle Riley mentioned. He downs the smoothie and then collapses onto the barstool.

“But don’t forget what she was saying about the single needing to be global. Sure your fanbase would love it but would the people who hate you have to admit it’s good.”

“I make it for my fans not for the wankers that hate me,” Harry says and his voice is rich like caramel.

“You know what we mean.” His manager suddenly turns directly to me. “Can you contact the studio and let them know to push Harry’s 1pm to 3?”

“Oh,” I didn’t even know they knew I was here. They gave no acknowledgement until now. “Of course. Um, could I just get the paperwork from this morning too? The appoint-“

“Yep,” his manager unhauls the items in his hands. The whole time Harry stares out the window. I’m handed a stack of papers and I carry them to the office.

My hands are shaking when I put them down and I feel a lump in my throat. What was wrong with me? Why was I reacting this way?

I find the studio contact in the phone Riley gave me and let them know. They’re suspicious at first but accept the reschedule. I leave the paperwork for later, figuring I might be needed now.

But the rest of the morning I’m unacknowledged save by a few requests from Harry’s manager. I spend some time looking through the calender in the phone that’s pre-programmed with Harry’s entire life. It’s packed except for this Sunday. I wonder if it was actually free or just hidden from me since it was my one day off.

“You’ve got a passport haven’t you…?” It’s the first time Harry’s spoken to me. He’s changed into a hoodie and shorts, his manager is nowhere to be seen, and I’ve just bitten into a granola bar—the first thing I’d had since my morning coffee.

“Y/n.” I try to swallow the bite whole but at the last minute push it to the side to try to answer. “Erm yeah. I haven’t got it on me though.”

“Right. Y/n. Start carrying it. I’ll need you with me on Thursday I have a morning meeting in Léon and since Riley’s going to be sorting out something for my New York trip in a couple weeks he can’t make it.”

“Yes. I will. Do you need me to prepare anything else for the trip? I’m not sure if you’ve packed or-“

“It’s just a meeting.” He cuts me off. He pulls out his phone, dismissing me.

I swallow the knot in my throat once more.

I go with Harry to the studio since his manager is meeting us there. Alone in the car with him, the silence feels stuffy.

“I never got the opportunity to say thank you by the way,” I try to open up a conversation. All he was doing was looking out the window surely I wasn’t interrupting anything.

“What?” He stares right through me.

“Um, I’m just saying thank you. For the job.”

He nods.

I stay silent for the rest of the ride.

The studio is quiet, which makes sense when I think about it but upon entering an actual room I change my mind. The noise assaults my ears and I nearly jump at the volume but my hand gripping the doorknob keeps me in place.

People swarm around Harry.

“I need my tablet and my notebook,” Harry says amidst the small chaos.

What the fucks was he talking about. “Sorry?”

“My tablet and notebook,” His face darkens and so does my mood. Nobody told me! But maybe I should’ve asked oh my god.

“I don’t have it,” I say lamely.

“Any time I’m in the studio I need those two things. You need to get me my tablet and my notebook.” He speaks like a robot.

“I-I’ll head back,” I get my bag again. “Tablet and notebook, is there anything else?”

He looks angrier than I thought. He sticks his hands in his pocket, shuffles something in his hand before handing it over. “You may as well get lunch. Keep that card on you for business costs.”

I open my mouth to ask what he might want but he turns away as soon as I take the card and I’ve already fucked up royally so I decide to wing it.

In the car I consider googling what Harry Styles ate for lunch and instead will the ever living shit out of myself not to cry.

I scroll through the phone, debating if calling Riley for help would be a mistake. Going through every app for help I realize the countless notes in the app.

Morning Routines, says one. It lists things I should do when the mornings were spent at home, in studio, abroad, in a hotel, or if I walk into a “morning-after” morning. Jeez.

Another has checklists for what to do when travelling, how-to for routine appointments I should be booking, routine people I should be calling.

Why didn’t I look at this before. Right there is one called Studio Days and in bold it says what to bring.

I was an idiot. A big fat idiot.

I try my luck and search lunch. Sure enough a note with possible lunch places in cities across the world pops up.

It was a How-to guide for Mr. Styles.

Whoever put this shit together was an angel. I owed them my life.

I decide to be proactive, sorting lunch out to be delivered to the studio while the car drops me off. I run to the room Riley had said was the home studio. Sure enough I spot the tablet and a few notebooks, I grab all 3. I also grab the charger and ignore the bag of weed chilling on the arm of the chair.

What to do when he’s too drunk / What to do for Interview Days / What to do when he won’t answer the door or the phone / Day-off checklist / Social media checklist.

The dos and don’ts go on and on as I scroll through on the ride back. This was going to be my homework and by the end of the week I was gonna be a genius.

I swipe away and check if I had missed any folders containing precious info. Just the trash.

Out of curiosity I open it and there’s only 1 sitting inside: the donts of working for Harry Styles

I open it:

-don’t let one nice day fool you into forgetting he’s an arse and your employer

-don’t expect any gratitude from a narcissist

-don’t fall for his charm

-don’t shit where you sleep. no matter how tempting

-when he pisses you off which he will, don’t mouth off. what happens next is worse than being fired. which he won’t do because he’s the devil and he will want to keep you around after treating you like shite

-don’t think he’s chill. he’s anything but. follow the checklists and the rules.

-don’t have a life. actually this is a CAN’T. YOU CAN’T HAVE A LIFE WORKING FOR THE DEVIL. LEAVE AS QUICKLY AS YOU CAN UNLESS YOU HATE YOURSELF

I close the phone immediately, my heart thumping in my chest like a steady bass in the background of a song. What the hell did I get myself into.

***

It’s 8pm by the time I head back with Harry. The car is once again silent.

I had spent the day reviewing emails and the checklists, fielding calls and texts. His personal chef had texted to tell me dinner was prepared and in the oven to be re-heated so I figure that’s the last thing I’d do before I head home.

I’d eaten lunch standing while watching Harry sing background vocals to the album he was working on. It was hard to deny how intoxicating it was to see such a talented man work his magic. And it really was magical seeing how a song got put together.

That is until he’d sent me to get tea for the room and I’d nearly spilled half of it on myself getting enough back to the room. I was getting an electric kettle next.

I made a new note then: Reminders to do so you don’t get fired

The notes were my saving grace.

“My head is killing me,” Harry groans.

What to carry at all times: #4 paracetamol and #2 water

Checkmarked after going to the pharmacy while he was in the studio. I’d created an emergency makeup bag with essentials I could throw in my tote. I considered it a win today.

I hand the painkillers to him and he seems surprised. He replaces them with his phone.

“I don’t want to look at a screen for the rest of the night.”

“Okay.” I leave his phone beside me and try not to think of everything on it.

It vibrates a few minutes later and I leave it, not wanting to invade his privacy but he glances at me.

“Well?”

“Oh!” I lift it but it’s locked.

“1021.”

I type it in. “Um, Jeff wants to know if you’re still at the studio-“

“Reply to him.”

I do as I’m told.

“Um Mitch wants to know if you’re-“

“If it’s scheduling questions you can probably answer them without bothering me about it.”

I look up and he’s tipped his head back, eyes closed. Right. Of course I could.

I go through his schedule and find his studio time on Friday and relay it to Mitch. I respond to another text from someone asking if he was going to a gala in a couple months—his schedule said he was in LA so no. I wondered if I would also be in LA in a couple months. I wonder what Grayson would think.

Grayson, I’d had a short call with him a few hours ago and tried not to cry hearing his voice. It felt like home when the whole day felt so foreign.

I stare at the final text. The contact photo is the side profile of a gorgeous woman.

“Kimberly wants to know if you want um,” I feel my cheeks burn. “If you’re inviting her in tonight because she has a party she really wants you to go to.”

“I can’t be arsed for a party I feel like shite.” Harry says, eyes still closed. “Tell her to be at mine after 10.”

“Ok.” I type the words with a racing heart. I remember the morning-after checklist for this exact scenario. It wasn’t going to be weird soon I guess.

I heat up dinner for Harry while he showers and leave letting him know what time I’d be in tomorrow. He doesn’t even say goodbye.

I get home around the time I reckon Kimberly gets to Harry’s. The first thing I do when I see Grayson is shed a waterfall and he holds my exhausted body tight against him.

“Are you sure you want to keep doing this?” He whispers to me in bed after a shower and sandwich—I couldn’t stomach anything more.

“I need this job Gray. It’s gotta get better.”

“I reckon but it’s a steep learning curve,” he says as he traces the curve of my nose.

“I know,” I snuggle closer to him and yawn. I don’t know what he says next as I tip into sleep.

***

If the notes app manual with the dos and donts of being Harry Styles’ PA was a physical thing, imagine me swallowing it.

Every spare second I had—which I didn’t get a lot of, I was reading that thing. My fingers searched tirelessly before every scheduled and unscheduled event. And yet, I’d fucked up so many times.

It was Saturday and I was looking forward to my day off.

He had been hot and cold all week but ever since getting back from Léon he’d been nicer and I’d actually been getting home before 8.

Maybe things were going well, despite the fact that the learning curve was like climbing mount everest.

“What’s my morning look like?” Harry asks. I was sitting at his kitchen table trying to book a dinner for him next week with a friend that was in town. A friend who also happened to be big back where I was from—I hoped to catch a glimpse of her myself.

I glance up and look back down just as quickly. After a week of seeing Harry in all sorts of undress I should be used to it, but my face still flushes. Today he stands at the table in running shorts.

“Pulling it up,” I say and scan his schedule even though I had it memorized. “You’ve got a meeting at the bank in about 40 minutes and lunch with Michael.”

“Can’t my accountant take the bank meeting?”

“She’ll be there. She’s meeting you downstairs to discuss the meeting on the ride over. You need to sign off on some stuff.”

“Stuff,” Harry repeats.

I look at him, careful to train my eyes on his face. I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed at my lack of elaboration or just teasing me.

“Documents.” I correct, still unable to tell.

He look amused. “Great. Documents. I thought I’d be signing body parts.”

Was he joking? He was joking…I think.

“Right. No, we’re saving that for the tattoo shop booked for 6.”

He raises his brows, a slow smile spreading across his face and like the sun coasting over the horizon he looks brighter and prettier.

“That’s mad, that people would get a random man’s signature tattooed on them isn’t it?”

It’s inevitable really, my eyes skim over his torso brimming with tattoos. He notices and laughs. It’s a wonderful laugh.

“I meant they don’t really know me.”

“They admire you and it’s a piece of you,” I shrug. “At least it’s not a portrait of your face.”

“I’ve seen that floating around the internet actually.”

“Really?!” Now that was mad. I pull it up on the laptop and cover my mouth.

“I know.” He hangs his head and we laugh. God, things were finally getting better. This was the kind of relationship I thought Harry would have with his PA.

I scroll through comments and it’s impossible to wipe the smile off my face. I’ve considered myself a fan for a lot of artists but tattooing their face…that was another level of commitment I couldn’t do.

I look back to Harry who has grown quiet. His eyes are on me.

“What happened to your blazers?”

I’d decided to wear a skirt today, it was my lucky skirt—the one I had been wearing when I got the call that the job was mine. It being the last work day of the week I thought it might make me feel good.

I’d paired it with a tank top and a comfy cardigan. I’d finally felt like myself compared to all the button ups and blazers I’d been parading in. But apparently Harry had noticed the wardrobe difference. Shocker because he barely acknowledged me this week.

“I thought I’d dress for a Saturday?” It comes out meeker than I’d hoped. Ugh. “I hope that’s alright. If you want me more professional-“

“That’s alright,” his eyes roam down my body and I feel hot all over. Oh god, I shouldn’t have worn this. “It looks good.”

“Thanks,” I cross my cardigan over my body and try to get back to work but he doesn’t let it end there.

“Did you make that yourself?”

He continues to surprise me, “I did actually, is it obvious?”

“Yeah there’s a big hole down the back,” he teases. I know he is because his eyes are smiling, light.

“Damnit,” I relax a little. He was only interested in the sweater. “I’d finished it late it looked okay in the dark.”

“I have a friend, she made one of those for me. With the patches. Very comfortable.” He’s weirdly intense while looking at me and I feel like squirming again.

“It is. Very stretchy.” My vocabulary seems to shrink.

He leans over to touch the fabric and I feel like a cactus has been stabbed into my neck, I feel hot and prickly. Jeez, I had to chill out. My employer was just interested in my sweater. Super interested. Maybe I should just give him the damn thing. It would definitely fit him.

“Wool,” he smiles. He’s basically perched above me and I think I’m going to have a heart attack. I went from complaining about the fact that he acted like I wasn’t in any room he was in to not even being able to hold a conversation when he did.

I’m caught looking up into his unfairly gorgeous eyes and he looks at me like I’m the only person in the room. Which I was in this instance, but still.

I’m saved by a loud voice coming out of the elevator.

“Harry you car is waiting downstairs.”

Like a book slammed shut, his expression retreats until all that’s left is the cover page with no summary. The friendly Harry from before is gone.

“Oi Harry! I had to come all the way upstairs because I’ve been sitting in that stupid car waiting! Do you not pick up your phone?”

“Lee,” Harry says as he walks across his living room. “If you can’t reach me you call my PA I’ve told you a million times.”

“And I’ve told you a million times not to keep me waiting. We have a lot to cover before we get to this meeting and I need every minute. God why are you shirtless go put on something appropriate!”

Harry miraculously does as he’s told—given I had already laid out an outfit for him. He’s ready in no time. His accountant, Lee? Simply smiles at me and goes back to typing on her phone while we wait.

“Why is that so wrinkled?” Lee judges Harry who walks out in a completely different outfit.

“I don’t have time to change again do I?” Harry bristles.

Lee looks over at me and I’m not sure if she’s accusing me of something or looking for support.

“Mr. Styles I did leave an outfit out for the m-“

“I don’t wear silk.” He cuts me off and walks out ahead. Lee shrugs my way and follows him. I trail behind, feeling worse than ever.

For a miserable hour and a half I sit in one of the most uncomfortable chairs of my life, organizing Harry’s life while I wait for his meeting to end. As hard as I try to concentrate, I keep agonizing over what I might have done wrong to flick his switch. I swear things were going better. And I know I’ve seen him in silk before. Why the hell else would it be in his closet? Why couldn’t I go a single day without screwing up?

I finally spot Harry walking out of the office and gather my things quickly to meet him. I trail behind as we walk down the hall into the lobby, Lee is nowhere to be seen.

A gasp catches my attention and suddenly a girl younger than me rushes up to Harry.

“Oh my…Harry Styles?”

Harry’s face morphs briefly into annoyance, his gaze flicking my way, before pasting on a smile for the girl.

What to do when a fan approaches H (in the wrong moment): be the bad guy, divert, get Harry to wherever he needs to go to and do it quick.

“Hi,” Harry smiles sweetly at her and the friendliness throws me off guard. But this was unexpected and I should get him away…I think.

“Oh my god could I get a picture? My mate is never going to believe this. She loves you so much, so do I-“

“We really have to be going.” I say and the girl looks at me, surprised to find me there. I look around and spot and older woman watching us. Must be her mum.

“Could I just get a picture?” She glances between us.

“I don’t think Mr-“

“It’s fine,” Harry hands me her phone. “Get a photo of us.”

Just another layer of humiliation to add to the rest of the day. The rest of the week. God was I just awful at reading cues?

I snap a couple and then we’re walking free.

He doesn’t say anything. The car ride to his lunch date is spent in awkward fucking silence and I hate myself more with every second I spend in it.

When the car stops at his destination he holds his hand up when I go to open the door for him.

“Listen -what's your name again?" He asks.

Shame and humiliation drip over me like blood on Carrie’s prom night. I repeat it for him. Just like I had daily since I was hired.

“Right. Y/n. You came highly recommended from a friend so I trust you know how to do this job. This job, is to keep my life organized and keep me on track. Make sure I'm not distracted or side tracked by anyone. Including you. It’s not to be my publicist or my fashion advisor or my personal security. Let's stick to the job description okay?"

His words land bitterly to my ears. Not personal. Just a job. Just a job. Just a fucking job. And yet it was starting to feel like my whole life.

“Yes of course.” I hear myself mumble. And like the big clown I had to be, I push open the door and get out so he can too. He walks to the restaurant without a goodbye and I crawl into the car, heading back to his place. Tears burn my eyes but I refuse to let them out. Refuse to admit just how badly this job hurt.

***

“I’m not doing this on purpose,” I hiss into the phone. “You know I’d be there right now if I could!”

“Babe I get it’s your job but you haven’t come to anything in over a month since you started your job!”

“That’s unfair,” I cup my hand over my mouth. “Gray c’mon I’m going to be there just late.”

“That’s what you said last weekend.”

Last weekend, one of our good friends invited a few friends for dinner in their new place and Greyson had had to go alone. Everyone had messaged me to say I was missed but Gray had been stony, pretended to be asleep when I got home and then given me the silent treatment until I wore him down the next day. It was exhausting begging for affection.

“It’s my job Grey I don’t know what else to tell you.”

“Me neither, you know my parents want us over for weekend roast some time but I’ve been avoiding giving them a date because I don’t want you to stand them up.”

“I-“ a shadow shifts in the corner of my eyes and I look up. Harry stands in the doorway. “I have to go we’ll talk later.”

“Whatever y/n,” Grey hangs up and my chest squeezes with all the hurt I was causing. But he saw the state I’d been in since I started this job a month ago and he knows this is just my life right now. Why was he suddenly acting like it was brand new information?

“Are you done your personal call?” Harry asks. He hovers in the doorway, I’d never actually seen him in this little office space. Then again, if he did step in there wouldn’t be much room for either of us to walk around each other.

“Sorry,” I hate myself for apologizing. Here and everywhere else in my life. But I have no other choice. “Can I do anything for you?”

“When are you heading out tonight?” He asks. His eyes glued to my face. I know my eyes are teary and I try to blink it away.

“Um, soon. In an hour or so,” blink blink blink. “Did you need anything from me before then?”

“Yes, I have a friend coming over tonight. Can you order us something for dinner. Something light. And get a bottle to chill for us—champagne. And can you push Monday’s cleaning service to tomorrow afternoon?”

“Consider it done.” I tell him, hoping he would just leave me alone in the dark here.

“Do you have evening plans?” He continues. Why did he never ignore me when I wanted him to!?

“Kind of yeah,” I try to keep it short. “A birthday.”

It was Grayson’s sister’s birthday. She had invited us to a local fave called The Violinist and of course I would only make it to the dessert course if I was lucky. These days, making it to dinner at all was a luxury. I lived off of sparkling water, leftovers, and coffee.

“Well best to finish up what you’re doing so you can head out.”

He leaves and I’m annoyed. Why couldn’t he be nice and just tell me to leave after doing what he asked. But here I sit folding fucking pamphlets for some idiotic pledge he had signed on for. Fuck me.

I’m miserable by the time I leave. I’d managed to finish everything in a half hour so I’d touched up my makeup and changed into a simple dress I had kept in the office closet on Riley’s suggestion.

“A simple black number that could be used for any last minute event.” He’d said. Unfortunately that now counted for personal events too.

“G’night Mr. Styles.” I call out as I walk to the foyer, just so he knows I was going out earlier than I said.

“G’night,” he answers surprisingly. He always ignored me but tonight he sits on the couch. He rises to see me off but I notice him pause and take in my outfit. “Fun night?”

“I hope so.” I unfold the blazer in my hand, suddenly wanting to disappear with his gaze on me.

His long legs walk to me and he takes the blazer I’m fidgeting with from my hands. He actually holds it open and if I wasn’t this exhausted my jaw would definitely be on the floor.

“Oh. Thank you,” I slip it on and turn to face him. As if helping me put it on wasn’t surprising enough, he proceeds to untuck my hair from the blazer.

“That’s alright,” he says in a low seductive tone. “You look nice. Are you dressed up for someone?”

The question is dangerous, toeing a line I’m not sure I want to erase. I try to ease things with a joke. “The birthday girl I guess.”

“A friend?”

“My fiancé’s younger sister.”

Was it just me, or does he bristle when I mentioned my fiancé?

“I didn’t know you were engaged,” he mumbles, glancing down at my hand. I wore a number of rings and I guess the small diamond Grayson had proposed with back when it was the most he could afford, blended in.

“Yeah, nearly a year now.”

“Wow,” he crosses his arms. “Have a date set?”

“Not exactly,” I smooth my hair behind my ears. “We’re thinking next year but we’ve just been so busy with out schedules-“

“What does he do?”

“He’s a personal trainer,” I say proudly.

“Oh,” Harry tilts his head back. “Oh. Now I understand. Now I get the connection. My mate Liam put in a good word for you when I needed a new PA, he said he knew you through his personal trainer. He never mentioned how.”

“I see,” I’d have to thank Liam next time I saw him. He’d been one of Grayson’s first big clients and had become a close friend to us. I’d have to thank him with dinner. If I got any nights off, that is.

“That’s who you were talking to on your personal call?” He asks, his hand tracing my shoulder seam down to my elbow. My heart races from the ghost of his touch.

“Erm yeah, sorry again. I had to take it since it was time sensitive.”

“Best to get going then.”

I take a step backwards and then rush to the elevator all at once. Once I’m on and the doors start to close I turn and catch a glimpse of his handsome face watching me go.

I let out a breath. That was weirdly heavy. And kind of intimate. But weird. That was weird.

I wonder briefly who he was having over tonight. If it was Kimberly, who I’d had the misfortune of meeting in her panties one morning. Or his other “friend” some brunette named Maya or Amaya something. I’d had the misfortune of meeting her when I dropped off a late package to Harry one evening. All were awkward encounters.

I shake away the thoughts and am grateful when Harry’s driver waves me down on the sidewalk. I guess Harry had told him to take me to where I needed to go. My heart is warmed ever so slightly, although I do accidentally nap on the 15 minute drive over.

I make it for the end of dinner and Gray looks relieved to see me even though his eyes hold a hint of something unspoken. I try to ignore it tonight.

“Oh you look beautiful!” I hug the birthday girl, and we sway from side to side. I used to see her a lot before she moved away for uni. “When did you stop being a baby, Josie Duran let me get a look at you.”

“Josefina tell her what you did for your 21st.” Gray says.

“Can you let it go!?” Josie scowls.

“What?” I whisper.

“Mom will kill you,” Gray warns.

“That’s why she doesn’t have to know,” Josie bites.

“Hey,” I put my hands up between the two. “No fighting with the birthday girl. Anyway. Josie, you look beautiful, I’m so sorry I’m late but it’s so good to be here.”

“Aw no don’t worry about it,” she goes in for another quick hug. “I’m just happy you got to come. Gray said the bloke you work for is a nightmare. Tell us do we know him?”

“Ah,” I wasn’t really supposed to talk about him according to my nda. “I dunno if you would. Anyway I’m going to try to steal some of Gray’s leftovers until dessert comes.”

I sit beside Gray where the seat had been left empty and smile up at him, hoping for forgiveness. He sighs and kisses my forehead, pushing his plate towards me.

“Go ahead, have you eaten?”

I had a banana and a yoghurt for lunch but I don’t tell him, just making a vague answer for yes and scarfing down what’s left.

“She got a tattoo,” he says in my ear later as the restaurant finishes singing happy birthday and a cake with sparklers is set down. He’d gotten tipsy and I can tell because he wants to talk about his upsets.

“She’s a grown woman Gray,” I know he was protective and a little traditional—that’s where half of their sibling fights originated, but I always told him he had to let loose a little. “She’s allowed to get it. If I remember you have some tattoos of your own.”

“It’s different y/n.”

“She’s getting older faster than we can keep up with huh?” I lean my head against Gray’s shoulder and let out a big sigh. It feels good, sitting with him here surrounded by friends. It had been a while.

Gray leans his head against mine and doesn’t answer. We watch her friends take pictures like proud parents, watching her cut and then distribute the cake. I should help, but I just could not lift a finger.

“Hey y/n, is that your phone going off?” Josie’s friend beside me points to my facedown phone.

“Is it?” I sit up, my heart doing a number in my chest.

I pick it up, 2 missed calls from Harry and 3 texts. Fuck.

“Leave it,” Gray must be looking over my shoulder. “You’ve gone home now just screw him.”

“I can’t,” I didn’t want Gray getting mad—I know he was kinda drunk and he could make a scene like this. I didn’t want to ruin Josie’s celebration. But I couldn’t ignore this. This is the first time Harry’s messaged me after I’ve gone home. “I’ll take it outside.”

On my way to the door I open the messages. A picture of a bucket filled with ice. A row of question marks. And then: call me

What? What was so urgent about a bucket of-

Oh.

Fuck.

I thought I did everything but I hadn’t. I’d filled the bucket with ice and meant to ask the Italian restaurant around the corner to deliver a bottle like they usually did for Harry but I hadn’t gotten to that part.

I feel like I’m going to vomit any dinner I just had.

I crouch down. Do I call him? Do I pretend I didn’t see this until too late? No. I had to face up. I fucked up.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

I call with shaking hands but it rings and rings and goes straight to voicemail. I try again.

I had to get back, get him the champagne. Fix my mistake.

“Y/N,” Grayson’s suddenly outside. “Aren’t you coming back in?”

“I can’t. I…” how do I explain this to my fiancé without it sounding minor as hell. “I forgot to mail some important documents and I need to get back-“

“It’s Saturday fucking night.”

“Yeah but-“

“And guess what?! Tomorrow’s Sunday! The mail’s going nowhere! Fuck that wanker and come back in.”

Gray holds out his arms and I want to go back in but I need to fix this mistake.

I grasp his hand and he smiles, misunderstanding why I held it, “Gray I have to go-“

He pulls his hand away, a sneer on his face. It hurts when he looks at me that way, like I betrayed him.

“I showed up! I celebrated, I got here Gray I just have to-“

“You were barely here! Do you know how upset she was when I said you couldn’t make it?”

“Well why did you say that!?” I demand. “I told you I was only going to be late!”

“I can’t trust that!” He shouts and I try to pull his arm so he quiets but he doesn’t seem to care there are people around. “Your time is all his, every single fucking second! And when you’re not there your brain is going a million bajillion times over about him and his life. Even when you’re with me! What the fuck! What’s up with that!?”

“Gray I’m sorry look I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. I swear. I’ll make it up to your sister I-“

“I don’t care y/n,” Gray slips his arm out of my grasp. “Do whatever you want. Nothing I say matters anymore anyway right?”

“Gray,” tears streak my face as I watch the man I love go back inside without another look my way.

Fuck Harry.

I try to call him again but voicemail. Again. Fuck!

What to do when you make a mistake: admit to it—Harry appreciates accountability. FIX IT! As much as you can. FIX YOUR MISTAKES OR FACE CONSEQUENCES.

An alert that my uber was here pings my phone—I take the ride to the restaurant and grab an already chilled bottle. I book it to Harry’s building and ride the elevator up, every floor causing a further dip in my stomach.

The doors open to a dimly lit space. There’s music playing, something jazzy, and it smells like…vanilla? Vanilla roses?

“Hol-hold on,” I hear Harry chuckle. A head pops up from the other side of the sofa.

“Y/n?” He looks as confused as I am.

Oh my god, I realize as a giggle comes from the floor. They were on the fucking floor of the living room? They were on the floor of the living room f…what the fuck did I walk into?

“Just back with this,” I squeak, holding up the bottle.

“Harry did you invite someone else?” The voice asks from below with another laugh. He sighs, disappearing again. I hear a very distinct wet noise before he pops back up again, I look at the doors of the elevator trying even harder not to give in to the panic attack that was looking more and more tempting.

“What are you doing here?” Harry approaches me with a softened voice. Wearing a robe. A silk robe. I knew he wore silk.

“You called—the bottle I’m sorry it totally slipped my mind I-“

“I told you to call me?”

“I did, you didn’t pick up! I thought I should swing by-“

“I thought you had a party?” His forehead scrunches.

“I…” the pieces come together. Did I take this too seriously because Harry didn’t even look angry? Great. I was an idiot and proving to Harry I had no life. “It ended. Early. I…I wanted to fix my mistake and bring the bottle.”

He takes it from my hand, still confused. “Y/N.”

I wait for him to continue but he doesn’t. And lord, in this climate with him in just a robe hearing my name on his lips is not okay. I was going to pass out.

“I’ll leave.” I go back to the elevator but he starts talking again.

“I asked you to call me so I could ask-“ he stops when I turn back around to listen. He closes the gap between us again with a sigh, and I don’t realize my face was still streaked with tears. It was probably more noticeable in the elevator light. He takes his finger and swipes across my cheek, his brows furrowing.

“Sorry,” I swipe my cheek to remove the remaining evidence. “I’ll leave you to it.”

He clears his throat and takes a step back. “Thank you for coming back.”

I nod.

“If you’re going to leave early next time, make sure you finish everything I’ve asked you to do. Don’t skip out like this again.”

“Yes yeah of course,” I stutter, relieved to fit back into our usual roles. For a second there, I thought Harry was going to be kind. And that would have been way worse.

“Good night Y/N. See you Monday.”

“Good night Mr. Styles.”

Gray’s not home by the time I get back. I wake the next morning to his side untouched.

So I do the only thing that felt good these days, I curl up into a ball and cry.

***

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#harry styles fic #writingsfromhome #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #asks #harry styles angst #harry styles series #musician!harry #dos and donts #ahhh #i didn’t edit this too much it all kind of came out at once #so ignore any errors #hope this is fun to read #it was fun to write