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#I don’t even know if I said any of this properly
crappymixtape · 1 day
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tangled • part one
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❝ all you’ve known your entire life is in the inside of your tower – the brick walls covered in your murals skating around you in a semi-perfect circle, the view from the very top one that would take anyone’s breath away, but how could it be beautiful when you could never leave? that is, until an unexpected someone happens upon your hidden tower and offers you a chance to escape | (  3.2k, tangled AU • fluff, angst, strangers to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )
S E T M E F R E E, O H I P R A Y 🎶 cowboy take me away, fireswimmer
You were up with the birds, awake as fingers of sunlight slipped through your window and fanned out over the quilt you’d stitched together during the winter months. Spring was coming to an end and the days were growing warmer, enough to probably not need your quilt any longer, and when you stepped out of bed onto the cobblestone floor you felt a buzz of inspiration zip through you.
Maybe it was the way the sun crept through your window or maybe it was the sound of the waterfall rushing just outside the tower, but you wanted so badly to run your fingers through the grass. Hear the way the breeze blew through the trees. Dip your toes in the water and look at the details of a petal up close and–
“Rapunzel! Let down your hair!”
Mother’s voice drifted up from the bottom of the tower and you felt your heart hammer in your chest. You’d never asked her to leave the tower before, hadn’t asked her for much honestly, but with your birthday coming up maybe she would make an exception.
Every year, on the eve of your birthday, lights would illuminate the sky. Dancing and swirling among the stars and drifting beneath the moon. Beautiful and sparkling and it happened every single year. Why? You were dying to find out. They weren’t far from the tower, surely she would entertain your request. After all, it was your birthday.
“Rapunzel! I’m not getting any younger down here!”
“Coming, Mother!” you called back and tossed your long, shiny locks up over the hook spun into the roof of the tower. They cascaded down the wall and landed in a spun pile at her feet.
Pulling and pulling and pulling, Mother ascended up to the window inch by inch until she stepped up onto the ledge and into your circular room, “Good morning, dear.”
“Morning, Mother.”
“It’s time to brush your hair dear. I saw on the way up, you’ve got twigs tangled up in the ends. Hardly a way to treat such beautiful locks, my goodness. What do you do all day? Tsk. Just another reason for me to keep you here, you can’t even manage to properly care for yourself.”
A pang of shame hit you square in the chest and you wrapped your arms around your torso, making yourself smaller. Unseen. Unheard.
“Sit,” Mother said pulling up a stool and you did as you were told, sitting on the small surface as she took the chair behind you, brush in hand. “Now sing me our song. You know how much I love it,” she demanded, not asked, and you did as you always did…
Flower, gleam and glow, Let your power shine, Make the clock reverse, Bring back what once was mine.
Heal what has been hurt, Change the fates' design, Save what has been lost, Bring back what once was mine. What once was mine.
“That’s my girl,” Mother appraised, running the brush through the ends of your hair and pulling too hard at the end, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.
“Mother…” you started, hesitant, reluctant. Should you ask? She seemed in as good a mood as ever.
“What is it?” she snapped, short. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, but something in you pushed. Please, please ask. If you don’t ask we won’t ever know. And you had to know.
“I was thinking–”
“Never a good thing,” Mother teased meanly and you bit your bottom lip between your teeth. Nerves swelling in your chest.
“I was just thinking...tomorrow is my birthday and well–well, there’s something I was hoping we might be able to do.”
Mother hummed in her throat, a sharp thing that held irritation, like you were a pest she couldn’t rid herself of. “And? Rapunzel come now, speak up!”
“And–and I was wondering if you might take me to see the lights at the castle. They’re there every year on my birthday! They can’t be stars…I’ve charted them all and I just…I want to see what they are–”
“The lights?” Mother started to laugh. “The lights? Rapunzel you must be joking.”
“No, I’m not…I’m not joking, Mother I really do want–”
“Truly, how could you think I would just take you–”
“Mother, it’s what I really want! I just want to see the lights!” you shouted, but as soon as the words left your lips you clamped your hands over your mouth. Afraid of what you’d just done.
Mother narrowed her eyes at you, lips firmed into a twisted line, angry and her patience evaporated as she took a step toward you and you shrank again.
“You will never raise your voice at me like that again, is that clear?”
“Yes, Mother.”
Her voice notched up in volume as she stepped closer to you.
“And I don’t ever want to hear about those lights again, is that clear!”
She was closer still, breath heated and harsh against your cheek.
“Yes, Mother.”
Towering over you, Mother took you by the wrist and roughly pulled you up to her face so that you were inches away, the heat of her words spilling and burning and wicked, “And you will absolutely NEVER, EVER be leaving this tower! Is that clear??”
When you spoke for the final time your voice cracked, tears streaming down your cheeks, chest burning with embarrassment and shame and regret. “Yes, Mother.”
Letting go of your wrist, Mother sighed and sank back into her chair, eyes closed and fingers pinching her the bridge of her nose.
“Ugh, now I’m the bad guy.”
You sniffed, wiping your eyes hastily with the backs of your hands, trying and scrambling to regain your composure. Afraid to push her even the tiniest bit further. You wished you’d never asked, wished you kept your thoughts to yourself. The lights, your birthday, all of it. Wished you could take it all back.
Clearing your throat you sat back on your stool, curled into yourself as you peered up at Mother sitting her in chair. Impatient. Bothered. Exasperated.
“Mother…” you started tentatively, “I know what I want for my birthday now.”
“And what’s that?” she sighed.
“New paint? The kind made from the shells you once brought me.”
She fixed you with a look, the way you might regard a dog begging for scraps, “Well, now that is a long journey, Rapunzel.”
“Please? I promise not to ask about the lights again,” pressing your hands together you tried to look sorry, thankful, grateful, please.
Mother sighed again, but you held onto hope. “Oh, alright,” she conceded, standing from her chair to gather her things. Surely you couldn't do much damage over a few days. “I’ll be back in three days time. Are you sure you’ll be able to manage without me?” she asked.
You gave her a small smile, “Yes, mother. I’ll be fine.”
“You know I love you,” your mother said, a tight smile pulling at her lips.
“Yes, mother. I love you too,” you murmured.
“I’ll see you a bit, my flower!”
And with that you watched as she descended the tower, your hair in her hands sliding down, down, down to the grass below and off into the open, free, world you wanted so badly to explore, only to stand at your window while Mother disappeared into the vines draped at the edge of the meadow and into…well, unlike you, where ever she wished to go.
I SAID I WANNA TOUCH THE EARTH, I WANNA BREAK IT IN MY HANDS, I WANNA GROW SOMETHING WILD AND UNRULY.
Unbeknownst to you, the path to your freedom lay in the hands of a man just on the other side of the very vines Mother had just stepped through. Well…technically he was a man, but really more boy in the way he held himself. And carried conversation. And continually found himself in trouble because of his inflated ego, but a man nonetheless, holding your freedom.
Flynn Rider, a rogue, a thief, a ruffian. Just over six feet tall with sweeps of dark brown hair, skin like it held all of summer and the sun beneath it, eyes like burnt sugar and dotted in freckles and apparently much faster than he looked.
“RIDER!”
“Sorry, boys, gotta go!”
Flynn crashed through the line of shrubs he’d just hurled himself into and fell out the other side, scrambling to find his footing. He was probably going to regret the decision he’d just made, but that would be a problem for future Flynn Rider.
Patting the satchel at his side he peeked into make sure the contents were still intact and at the sound of thundering hooves picked his pace back up, sprinting through the woods.
It was a beautiful day, not a cloud in sight, rays of sun shining through canopy and dappling the forest floor with warm sunlight. It would have been even more beautiful if Flynn wasn’t being chased by the King’s guard, but he supposed it was the only option when you’d stolen the crown of the missing princess.
Chest heaving with the effort, he pushed his legs to go faster. Sprinting over fallen logs and thick brambles, wincing but not stopping as they pulled and slashed at the thin fabric of his tunic. He had to find cover before he ran out of breath or else he’d face the gallows.
Again.
It wasn’t that he was a bad guy. He wasn’t murderous or wanted for treason or anything. In fact, he wanted to be done with this life on the run and so he hoped this might be his ticket out. Hawk the lost princess’ tiara and hop a boat to somewhere far, far away.
His lungs started to burn as he sucked in air, sidestepping a particularly nasty blackberry bush and earning a scratch across his cheek. “Damn,” he hissed, wincing at the pinch of pain. He could hear the guards closing in behind him, the captain giving orders to his men to split up and Flynn knew his time grew short.
An arrow grazed past his ear as his slammed into a tree, the tip sinking into the bark just inches from his hands.
Too close.
“A promotion to which ever of you idiots catches, Rider!” the captain shouted and it pushed Flynn into another sprint.
Step over step over step, out of the thick stand of trees and into a wide field of wheat. The shhh shhh shhh of the grass against his trousers hissing as he stumbled once on a dirt clod and again on a molehill until the third time he wasn’t so lucky.
The toe of his boot caught on a rock dug into the dirt, sending him flying forward and over the edge of an embankment. Tumbling head over heels down, down, down and hitting the bottom with a heavy THUD!
“Sir! We’ve lost him!”
“What d’you mean you’ve lost him??”
“I–I’m not sure, sir. We–we’ve lost visual.”
“Bloody useless–if you lot can’t find him, then I’ll do it myself!!”
Groaning, Flynn pushed himself up from where he’d landed and blinked away the knock to the head he’d just earned for running through a damn field. Voices carried down the embankment and he could hear the King’s guard scuttling about back up the hill – they didn’t know where he was.
Scrambling back up onto his feet, Flynn quickly checked to make sure the tiara was still in place before frantically looking for an out. He had a moment’s cover while they tried to find him back up at the top, but surely they’d see the bent wheat stalks at some point. The bottom of the gully was more of the same, thick brush and brambles and trees and…vines? All drooping down just above the ground at the same angle and blowing just ever so in the breeze.
Brows knitted together he pushed a hand to them and stumbled forward a bit when his hand fell through them, not solid. So he pushed further still, watching as his arm disappeared further and further until he was completely concealed.
“Sir! We found something!”
Sucking in a gasp, Flynn pressed himself against the rock of the tunnel he’d just discovered and held his breath. The King’s guard tramped down the hill and trotted right past his hiding spot, their shadows dancing across the vines as they concealed him out of sight.
“He’s here somewhere, keep looking!”
The sound of hooves slowly disappeared and when quiet flooded back in, Flynn could hear the sound of a…river? A waterfall? Birds and a soft breeze across his skin…taking a few steps toward the bright light at the other end of the tunnel Flynn shielded his eyes in the crook of his arm and walked out into the most beautiful place he’d ever seen.
A waterfall cascaded down a cliff at the far edge of the little valley he’d wandered into, crashing into the rocks below and fanning out into a river that wound its way through the ground and past his feet. All manner of birds chirped and sang as they flew through the cloudless sky, landing peacefully in the trees. And there, just in the very center, a tower made of brick and cobblestones with a thatched roof, a chimney and windows all around but…no way up?
He knew he couldn’t stay idle, even if he was out of sight for now, surely the King’s guard would find him. Taking one quick loop around the tower, there was still no door in sight, so snatching the pair of daggers from the belt at his waist he stabbed one between the bricks high above his head and pulled to test his weight. When it held he found his footing and drove the second dagger in and arm over arm began to climb up to the largest window.
His biceps were burning, his shoulders on fire. There were a few times Flynn even thought he would surely fall to his death, but slowly he made it up, up, up and when he finally fell through the window gasping for breath, he prayed to whatever gods there may be that he might find a bed at the top of the bloody tower. Stealing a crown, outsmarting two idiot thugs and then running from the King’s guard was no easy feat and he could feel exhaustion in his very bones.
Heaving himself up off the cobblestone floor he loosed a heavy sigh of relief and pushed his hair from his eyes.
“Gods, finally. Alone at last.”
And then with a very loud CLANG! everything went black.
IN THE COMFORT OF YOUR ARMS, ON A PILLOW OF BLUE BONNETS, IN A BLANKET MADE OF STARS, OH, IT SOUNDS GOOD TO ME.
There was a man.
In your tower.
In your room.
AT YOUR FEET.
How he’d made it all the way to the top of the tower without the aide of your hair was beyond you, but as you peeked out at him from behind your mannequin you couldn’t help the tiny pang of guilt in your chest. Maybe you didn’t have to hit him with your frying pan, but it was too late for that now.
You’d never seen one before, only knew what Mother told you: dark, beady eyes and sharp fangs, gnarled hands to snatch you with and kidnap you away into the night.
Stepping out from your hiding place you took a tiny step forward, the smallest step, and poked him with the handle of your pan.
“HEY!” you shouted, but he didn’t move. “Oh, gods…” Did you kill him?
Another few steps and your bare toes nearly brushed his arm. Slowly extending the pan again you turned his head with the handle and nudged his lip, but in place of scary fangs were teeth. Just like yours. Bending down carefully you lifted a hand to his face and hesitated, waiting for something to happen, but his steady breaths continued to fall and his eyes remained shut.
A cut chased across his cheek, the tiniest streak of blood along with it, and your brow furrowed with worry. Did it hurt?
You ghosted your hand over his, just as normal as ever though a bit rough and maybe a little dirty, but wide and warm. Not gnarled. Not scary. You wondered at what it would feel like to hold it, yours so small and his so big.
Slowly, gently, your fingers trailed through the sweep of brown hair covering his face and brushed it aside to reveal mole dotted skin, warm and golden like summer and he’s beautiful. The most wonderful thing you’ve ever laid eyes on and you want to see more and–
“Unghh…”
CLANG!
You instantly regretted hitting him again, but what were you supposed to do? He opened his eyes and began to stir and what if he’d jumped up to grab you?
A groan escapes your lips and you rough your hands over your face, you still have a man in your tower. What to do, what to do. As you took stock of your modest surroundings there wasn't much to work with. Your mannequin, a small stove, things for baking and sewing and painting, your bed, your closet–
Your closet!
Blowing a puff of air between your lips, you bent down and grabbed hold of his feet and pulled a little. When he didn't stir you pulled again. A little more, a little further, a little further and further and straining, struggling almost dropping him, you shoved him into the wardrobe and slammed the doors shut, propping the handles closed with a chair.
“Oh! Oh! I did it!” you squealed, sweat clinging to your brow, giving a little jump of excitement. “I did it!! I’ve got a person in my closet. I’ve got a person in my closet…I’ve got a person in my closet! Mother thinks I’m too weak to handle myself, huh? Well, we’ll just see about that!”
And as you took a victory lap around the room your eyes caught something on the floor. A bag you hadn’t seen before and as it fell open, the contents inside flickered in the light as it came through the cracks in the roof.
Picking up the satchel you pulled back the flap and found something even more beautiful than the man you’d just shoved into your closet.
Gold. Purples and pinks and turquoises and glittering in the sunlight and as you carefully picked it up, you were surprised at how heavy it was. Eyes narrowing, you hold it closer to look at the intricate way the gold pieces twist around the jewels and gems, securing them in place and creating little flowers along the sides.
A smile flickers at the corners of your lips. It looks just like the pictures from your fairytale books. The kind of thing only a princess would wear. Laughing softly you step in front of your mirror and hesitantly hold it up over your head. Just for a moment. Just to see what it would look like…
Slowly, softly you lowered it and let it settle upon your head and a flash of light strikes you. A memory, bright and sharp and vivid. A spinning sun hanging overhead. The most lovely laughter, like music, like a song. A warm embrace. A lullaby.
BANG!
Sounds from the closet and you nearly fling the crown to the ground. How foolish of you to let you guard down. How could you forget? You could hear Mother scolding you, telling you how stupid you were, how you could have been kidnapped or killed.
Heart hammering against your ribs your eyes settle back on the closet as it bangs again.
Your guest was awake.
crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist ♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️
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jaegeraether · 3 days
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Sunsets and footballers (Part 75)
Lucy Bronze x Reader (62) & Alexia Putellas x Character (31)
Masterlist (other parts here)
((**Just a lil one - 1.8k**))
YFN POV
“I’m sick of this, Luce.” She admitted. She’d been mindful to try not to make Lucy start overthinking everything, but at this point in time, she was truly sick of it all. “I’m sick of hospitals.”
Lucy frame dropped a little as she sat next to her. Her arm was in her lap, her thumb stroking her thigh as they waited for the results of the x-ray.
“Me too..”
The thing about Lucy is that she’s so, so protective. And YFN knew that she’d been overthinking things.
Since they’d been together, she’d been through more trials and tribulations than anyone should have to endure in a lifetime. And although none of it were from faults of their own, she knew Lucy would always hold onto that responsibility. Truth be told, YFN had even worried a little bit about…
“Luce?”
“Mmn?” She responded from her thoughts.
“Please… don’t leave me.”
That got her attention. Her head turned and Lucy scanned her face with those stunning green eyes of hers, so intelligent and warm behind her clear framed glasses. “Why do you think that? Where is this coming from?” Her voice was hurt.
She leant forwards and kissed Lucy’s shoulder, her deltoid more than well-built beneath her lips. “I just know you take a lot of the responsibility for everything that's happened. It’s one of the reasons I love you… but please don’t take any blame for it all. Kristie was just young and obsessed and Mark… well we’ve just been collateral damage in the wake of everything with Mark. None of this is your fault.”
Lucy sighed, defeatedly. “But if we hadn’t met-”
“-If we hadn’t me, then I’d be alone and craving a partnership I didn’t know could exist.” She interjected. She raised her head from her shoulder and the hand that was wrapped around and gripping onto Lucy’s bicep now reached up to stroke her jaw, her cheek, and to cup her face. Lucy’s eyes fluttered closed and she leant into it like she always did. “You and me, against the world. We’re a team. Remember that.”
Lucy let out a soft chuckle; one of her favourite sounds. “Okay, little one. I like that.”
YFN squeezed her cheeks between her thumb and fingers. “Good, because you’re stuck with me, Bronze.”
“Mmn. Don’t say it like it’s a bad thing,” she said as she let YFN gently pull her down to her. She felt her lips become soft and yielding under Lucy’s, and although she’d meant it to be a simple kiss, Lucy tilted her head and brushed her tongue up against hers. They were in a public space, but that was forgotten now as she moaned softly into her.
It was YFN who had to break the kiss, and she was entirely unsure how she managed it as she’d been given some happy drugs and would have easily continued to keep making out with her. Especially with her tasting that sweet taste of the raspberry hospital jelly Lucy had stolen.
They were called in for the results and sure enough, the plate on her collarbone had failed and the screws needed to be realigned. He spoke about how he wanted to operate to reset it properly and ensured that it was a simple fix that he could do the next morning. He was aware that she had a check-up also for her knee scheduled and although she enquired, he insisted that he wouldn’t look at it for at least another week before she could potentially put weight on it.
“We’re going to Manchester tomorrow to see your family though…” she said to Lucy. They were left in one of the examining rooms alone to discuss it.
YFN’s phone started vibrating then and she looked down at it. Joe. She showed Lucy.
“Probably just a check-up.” YFN said.
“And she’ll want to talk about what to do with Mark.” She gave guilty smile, fully aware of how often she was on her phone for work. “I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be,” Lucy said with a lingering kiss on her cheek. “I also need to make a call. I’ll be back soon, little one.”
YFN answered the phone as she watched Lucy leave and the first thing Joe did was ask if she were okay. She was covering the medical bills and expenses and wouldn’t accept anything less.
And then they spoke about Mark. YFN tried to keep it as brief as possible with her explanation of events, as well as her involvement with Jordan and Leah. Catherine took it well. She’d met both women before; Jordan once after one of their wins, and Leah multiple times at events and such. Beyond that, she stated that she trusted her judgement which YFN appreciated.
As for Mark, they spoke about him, his mental state, the involvement of JK and how to best move forwards. She was expecting it to be a long conversation, though Catherine seemed to be making the phone call with her mind already set on a solution.
“I’ll meet him in person.”
“You… what? Really?”
“It’s what’s best. I’m hoping that it will also dissuade him from causing us any more trouble.”
“That is… unexpected. But if you’re sure, then I’m onboard. When will you meet him?”
“In Scotland next week. I was assuming you’d be up there for the Lionesses game, and I can find a place to meet that’s discreet.”
“Not Joanne’s home, I hope.”
Lucy walked back in then.
“Definitely not. If you’re okay with it, I’ll find a location and we can all meet there. When will you be in Scotland exactly?”
“Luce? When do the Lionesses go to Scotland?”
“The games on the 5th at night but we leave on the night of the 4th.” She said, tilting her head in question.
She relayed the information.
“Okay… I’ll work with that and let you know.”
“See you then.”
“See you then, and great work today. Let me know if you need anything at all. Take care of yourself, YFN.”
They hung up and Lucy’s head was still tilted like a puppy.
“What’s happening?”
“She’s made the decision to meet Mark in person. Now that we both know about Callie… it only seems right.”
“She can just call him instead of risking that…”
“Yes, but she fears he may still be a problem. She knows he won’t give us anymore trouble if she’s standing in front of him.”
She nodded slowly. “That makes sense actually. Finally this can all be over.”
“Finally – but I’m hoping he gets closure at some point.”
Lucy took her hand and stroked her thumb over her knuckles. “Me too, little one.”
“Mmn.” She looked down at their hands together. Hers were quite small compared to Lucy’s larger hands adorned with a few scars. She’d memorised them all and liked to trace them on occasion, along with the other hard-earned scars she had over her body. Each with a story of its own. “Who did you call?”
“Hm? Oh. Mum and Jorge.”
“Oh?”
“I told them we can’t come tomorrow and they suggested theyll come down earlier than they were planning to so we can all spend some time together. They were coming down Friday for the game anyways, but now they’re coming Thursday so we can catch up. They miss you.”
Oh, Luce. Organising things so she didn’t have to. Always trying to make her life easier. “I miss them. And thank you for doing that… I’m really tired after the last few days and I just want to sleep tomorrow.”
“Well you’ll definitely be sleeping during the surgery…”
“You think we should do it? Tomorrow morning?”
“Are you kidding? No question. We’re getting you on the path to recovery as soon as we can. I know injuries, love, and procrastinating over them only makes it worse and extends the recovery period.”
Lucy was passionate about it, and she loved that.
“So I can have the full day off tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow and Wednesday. Then we have my family Thursday, and the game on Friday. And then I believe the girls want to go out for dinner after the game.”
“The whole club?”
“Yep,” she said as she stroked her hand and YFN was interested in the fact that she couldn’t read her expression. “Family and friends.”
“The game’s at 7:45pm which means we won’t be anywhere until at least 10pm after everyone showers and dresses.”
“Mmn – it’s already booked, little one.”
She smiled. More time with Lucy’s friends and family. “I’ll be there. Just look for the one in the wheelchair.”
They finished up at the hospital and headed back to Lumos with some more happy drugs in YFN’s system. They ended their day there bantering with friends, networking, creating content and eating the food they were previously deprived of. Although it was a tough choice to make, her favourite interview of the day was a pet interview she did in English with Alexia and Chiquito, Lucy and Narla. She loved the dynamic, not only between the footballers but the animals. They’d met a few times before, and so they acted towards each other very similar to Alexia and Lucy. She couldn’t help but wonder though about Chiquito and how Ridley had left him behind. He was her heart. She’d be missing him right now. And Alexia. And herself.
She wondered if she should reach out and decided against it. She was the only person who knew how to get hold of Ridley because she trusted her and knew she wouldn’t do that. She’d respect her privacy. But also… know when to push.
But was sending her a photo of Chiquito taking advantage of that? She took the photo of Chiquito and Alexia as she sat cross legged and he sat between her legs, his tail wrapped around himself as he leant back to look up at her with those loving eyes. It was a beautiful shot. Alexia was actually smiling in it as she stared down at him with adoration.
The two looked the perfect pair the entire day, including when she and Ona left for the apartment. She wondered if she’d leave, and was disappointed at the thought that it would be very soon. She really liked Alexia.
After Alexia left, people started trickling out and both YFN and Lucy ended the day with help from a few friends. Beth’s loud voice was a great asset. When everyone but a few Lumos staff were gone, they eventually saw themselves out. YFN couldn’t help but notice the Lumos player wall on the way out which was now overrun with players’ signatures. Staring in the very middle with one Lucy Bronze. 2. 15.
By the time they were home, she missed dinner and instead fell asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.
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bkdk-prophet · 3 days
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“I don’t expect this to change a thing between us.” (MHA MANGA SPOILERS 322-423)
I think a lot about the fact that, in Katsuki’s apology, he says “I don’t expect this to change a thing between us.” indicating that he accepts the current state of their relationship, that his apology may not be left with a reply, and that he may be the only one who entertains the idea of deepening their bond of rivalry into friendship.
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But regardless, he had to speak his truth, and in the future, live by his truth, which is to give Izuku his utmost support.
In the same manner, Izuku had also accepted the current state of their relationship before hearing Katsuki’s apology, judging by how he already felt blessed that he could have a “normal-ish” conversation with him.
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And since the JT arc, knowing that Katsuki’s at the center of the “control your heart” issue, it probably solidified that that’s the extent of their bond to him, cause if he indulges in these feelings and make it stronger, being able to control his heart would be increasingly more difficult. So maybe he’d been starting to entertain the idea of being close friends with Katsuki again, but then blackwhip puts his heart on his sleeve, and so his deeper feelings and the yearning he felt for something more were locked away. Katsuki at that point also hadn’t explicitly shown any interest in deepening it anyway, just that he’s committing himself to their rivalry.
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But then Katsuki does, throws him a curveball and apologizes—calls him his first name “Izuku,” and implies that a “change” is possible between them. It's not expected, but the ball is now in Izuku’s court.
At the moment Izuku couldn’t respond properly since the conditions weren’t ideal. But even after that, when he had the time to broach the the subject to Katsuki, he chooses not to and put a tighter rope on his feelings. He had enough courage to thank his classmates generally, and and also thank Ochaco for her speech, but the apology wasn’t something he feels like he could talk about without revealing too much when he has to hold himself together for the next war. Like a talk could change something fundamental, and take away his attention from the war.
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And also, when Katsuki almost makes the mistake of calling him “Deku,” Izuku jumps to say that he doesn’t have to call him that if he can’t, showcasing some of his reluctance to the change, clinging onto the past which at the moment was easier to digest. Katsuki responds to this by saying that he’s not forcing himself, as he will continue to act and speak his truth.
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After his apology he makes good on that claim, where he initiates small talks with Izuku even when people surround and can see them, stays by his side as much as he can as a form of emotional support, and continue to be his primary partner in training. And all throughout the second war he commits to his truth even further, taking his self-introspections and sentimentality with pride, and because of it yearns even more intensely.
“So Izuku… can I still catch up with you?” he says as he yearns to be on equal footing with Izuku, in power, in heart, and in their relationship, “Gotta win right… Izuku?” he says as he yearns to be the hero Izuku had always believed him to be, someone who never loses, “That’s Kacchan Bakugou to you!” he says as he becomes the hero Izuku had always seen him as.
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As their eyes meet when when Katsuki revives, their feelings, as had been said, become one. The feelings of wanting to save All Might, the feelings of wanting to be near and beside each other, and the feelings of wanting to work together to win and save and again be on equal footing are communicated and united. Katsuki’s questions of “Can I catch up to you?” “Gotta win, right?” were answered, as Izuku has outstreched his hand to Katsuki once more and he’d taken it. It’s also the first and only time Izuku really calls for help during the final war, where he usually just lets others help him.
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But now the question is if Katsuki’s outstretched hand is something Izuku will take, if Izuku will also speak his truth, as opposed to just showing and acting his truth. It was an invitation to meet in the middle. As Katsuki said “Don’t you dare let me surpass you!” an echo to “Surpass me, become the hero I’d always seen you as—Izuku who’s full of strength and of worth—just make sure to take my hand while you’re on it.
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writingmeraki · 2 days
Text
project : get the guy — enha hyung line smau.
project one : this is literally targeted hatred.
synopsis : chaos ensues when you're assigned to do a project with the four supposed "cool kids" of the university and even more chaos when apparently one of them likes you, just that you have no idea who. warnings : cussing, bit of baby slander (?)
word count : 2.4k
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"L/N Y/N."
Confusion flooded you as you thought Jungwon had called you but he wasn't in your class.
Keyword being thought.
You looked up from the bent position you'd previously been in due to texting on your phone and your eyes widened when you finally realized who had called you.
Now, Mr. Jeon was in no way a mean teacher, most of the time how he dealt with students was pretty lenient, so you couldn't help but feel guilty when he caught you doing not-so-fit for college things.
Which was right now.
Clearing your throat, you shoved your phone quickly into the side pocket of your bag firstly to make sure it wasn't what got confiscated.
"Y/N, tell me am I that boring for you to put your head down for almost 15 minutes."
Mr. Jeon looked at you while glaring and you scanned his face wondering how he had the patience to deal with students this early. It would certainly make his life easier if he chose another job but then again who were you to judge his career choices when you didn’t even know what you wanted to be?
Mumbling a small yes under your breath, you stood up and you smiled at him, one where your molars were grinding against each other.
"No…sir of course not! I was just…a bit unwell."
“The health center is always open, if you feel unwell, you can go there.”
If it were any other student, they’d probably be insulted and embarrassingly sit down. But you were not just any student especially nor was he just any professor.
You shrugged and were about to grab your bag, anyway ready to ditch the class. But he glared at you so harshly, that you just sat down quietly, not wanting to push his limits. He might just fail you, Jungwon’s words flashed through your mind.
“Sorry sir. I'll pay attention.”
You said it softly, biting your tongue for any snide remarks because you knew you'd only get in more trouble.
All your professors were great. You even behaved properly and they'd also be polite towards you. You just didn't understand why Mr.Jeon had such a problem with you.
Perhaps it was because you may have accidentally hit his car during that one time you were parking.
Or that one time you bumped into him and all his coffee spilled all over his white shirt.
Or that one time you made him trip when you'd kept your foot out while he was making rounds during a test.
Actually, he may have reasons to not favor you.
“Alright class. As previously mentioned I was rudely interrupted,” He quickly narrowed his eyes at you before he continued,
“You all will be given a project which will account for around 50% of your total grade for this course. This project is something where the process of how you handle it till the very end will also matter and not just the result.”
“And it is a group project.”
Groans could be heard and a few whispers and murmurs going around about taking people in the groups while you silently looked ahead.
This is where you felt a slight sense of regret for not making any sort of friends let alone acquaintances in this course.
It’s not that you were not a social person, you had your fair share of friends and even close friends. It’s just your social energy could only deal with so much and hence you decided to not make even more in a course where you probably would never see them again after the semester ended.
“I hope I don’t get you in my group again.” You heard someone say behind you while groaning and you turned your attention to him.
As cliche as it sounded, you paused a bit, eyes widening at the unrealistically pretty boy.
How did you not notice him before? Like ever?
You’d seen your fair share of attractive people, you were friends with said attractive people, but the guy in front of you was like attractive on another level.
“I deal with you enough in my life, not this time again.”
You turned your gaze to the other person he was speaking to.
You were sure if Niki was here, he'd definitely make fun of the way your eyes widened even more as you felt your jaw slack a little.
Since when did this class have attractive men?
Both of them looked like actual models, you couldn't even comprehend synonyms enough to describe them.
Mr Jeon cleared his throat which made you snap out of your weird daze, glad neither of them noticed you staring like a creep.
“And as much as I know you might hate me for this but the groups are already chosen. By me.”
It seemed the entire class collectively groaned in disappointment while someone like you was sort of happy because for one you weren't even sure who you would have been in a group with.
Although, you somehow hoped you'd get into at least one of the two hot guys. That is if fate was with you.
Mr Jeon smiled gently and continued,
“So what I'll be doing is giving you all a brief on what this project is. Then I'll list down the groups and member names, to which all of your members have to come upfront and take your material. Material which will soon arrive.”
That made most of the students perk up in curiosity including you. The university, despite making most students go into debt paying for the fees, rarely gave out materials without extra payment. It was ridiculous.
“This project is called ‘The Baby Project’ ”
You cannot believe you'll be playing with dolls in university but here you were.
"I suppose the majority of you would have this question, why? Well this course is about human psychology. As most of you would know. What will be observed in these four weeks is how the physical behavior and surroundings would affect the growth of a child in their brain development stage.”
“Another question you may have is why isn't it a set of two people, like parents. But for that, the issue is the number of students is more than what was expected hence you'll be in groups of four and due to odd numbers two or three groups will have five members.”
Of course the one time they provide materials, they don't have enough.
The classroom door was knocked on, to which you assumed a teaching assistant entered with a cart. Full of baby dolls.
It was actually pretty creepy with how realistic they looked.
“Your task is to simply take care of the child. Write reports on its behavior down to what you've been doing to take care of it. By the end, essentially we'll see how well developed your child has become and that would be your grade for the project.”
You were sure this was some sort of hatred towards you. You weren't a fan of children. You didn't hate them but you just mildly disliked them. Let alone toddlers who'd only scream, cry and throw up on you for no reason.
“Now before more of you start dozing off, I'll announce your group number, names and you all come and collect your child. Preferably, discuss a name in class and get it noted down by me.”
“Group one, Lee Soohyung, Kim Wonyooung, Sarah…”
Three more groups passed before it was your turn. Finally.
“Group four, Lee Heeseung, Park Sunghoon,”
You heard a low cheer and groan behind you,
“...Park Jongseong, Sim Jaeyun…”
You heard more cheers and sigh of either disappointment or relief you couldn't quite tell,
“...and what do you know? L/N Y/N.”
You blinked in disbelief. You were paired up with the pretty dudes? Did fate finally open up their chances to you?
“Did we really get that person who Mr.Jeon hates? We're going to fail what the fuck?”
Pause.
Your mini celebration was disrupted as you heard one of them whisper. Whisper about you more specifically.
“Please come and collect your child.”
You stood up, grabbing your bag and hooking it over one shoulder,turning a bit before snapping back at the guy who said that about you.
What a waste of a perfect face.
“You won't fail if you put in the effort.”
His eyes slightly widened when he heard you reply. He didn't know you heard, and felt a bit bad for saying that.
You turned forward, not paying attention to the rest, as you went near the place where the dolls were.
You didn't notice the four moving to stand besides you.
Turning to them, you calmly spoke,
“So we should introduce ourselves first I suppose.”
The first to speak up was the first pretty guy, and his voice matched his face, it was soothing and just…
“Lee Heeseung. Third year music student.”
A senior? Oh, he got even more attractive.
And the small smile he gave off after he spoke definitely did not help with your heart fluttering.
Another guy cleared his throat and it was pretty guy #2.
“Park Sunghoon. Second year psychology student.”
Your eyes widened a tad bit before you pointed out,
“Oh woah, same!”
“Really?”
“Yeah, second year psych.”
You smiled at him in content, glad you found someone who was having the same major.
“Uh, I am Sim Jaeyun but you can just call me Jake. Second year too but major in Physics!”
You really liked the sort of excitement he carried, it showed how he was a bit nervous but it was kind of…cute. And a physics major?! He was probably very intelligent.
In fact all of them were.
“I'm Jay. Park Jongseong. Second year culinary arts student.”
It was the guy who had some beef with you even when you didn't know who he was until now.
Too bad, such a good looking fellow had a weird prejudice issue.
You just nodded in acknowledgement at his introduction, trying your best not to roll your eyes with the way he spoke to you like you were just a bother in his routine. Dismissively and just merely out of convenience.
“Well. Nice to meet you guys, I think you must have figured out my name but yeah I'm Y/N, second year psych.”
Heeseung and Sunghoon nodded as they raised their hands to shake yours. You were a bit taken aback but you gladly shook their hands one by one.
Even Jay’s despite, and you may have squeezed his hand a bit tighter. Just a little for him to perhaps get a message.
“I see you've introduced yourselves.”
A voice spoke up from beside you, to which you internally groaned as you faced him.
Mr Jeon, was a psychologist. He was a teacher so it means he was a master in the subject because after all to be a teacher in anything, you have to be a master in it. He surely knew a fake smile when he saw one.
And you were wearing one right now as if your entire grade depended on it.
“Yes, yes we have.”
He turned towards the rest of your group, briefly smiling at them all and they were the typical college adults, smiling back awkwardly.
“Well, now pick your child and tell me the name, so you all can go as you please.”
“Right, yes, we're just doing that.”
To say the least, picking the child was something you didn't realize was as tasking.
Tasking because it seemed none of you could come to an agreement to choose which one.
Too creepy. Too ugly. Too dull.
“Guys. Come on, it's a fucking toddler. Just. Pick.”
As displeasing as you were to say it, you were glad Jay was able to control them. It seems it was something he did a lot.
Now that that daunting task was done. Another hassle comes. A bigger one.
Picking a name.
“Ethan.”
“No, we are not naming it your English name.”
“You have different names??”
“Bob.”
“I am not naming my child Bob, like what is that, a Bob cut?”
“Bob-bob cuts are hairstyles how is that even—”
“Jerry.”
“Wow, a mouse. You're so smart Y/N,”
“ If you don't shut the fuck up—”
After a whole bunch of disagreements, friendships almost breaking, a lot of seeing things you shouldn't in the first meeting, you finally got a name.
“Jaeyhoon.”
“What like a combo of Sunghoon and mine's name?” Jake asked to which you nodded and also added,
“Yes but Jay is there too, a Y after J-A-E. Fully spelt J-A-E-Y-H-O-O-N.”
“Hey! Where's my name there?” Heeseung asked to which you rolled your eyes at his pout. It was cute though.
“You can put your last name. Lee Jaeyhoon.”
And unexpectedly, Jay spoke up,
“And what about your name?”
“Uh I didn't think about adding mine.”
“How about its middle name? Lee Y/N Jaeyhoon.” Sunghoon said to which you actually didn't mind the sound of it.
Picking up the baby from the cart you raised it, “Welcome to the family Lee Y/N Jaeyhoon.”
It seemed as though it was happy with the name because next thing you know it's giggling to which you got slightly horrified and almost threw it out of your hands.
Luckily, Jay was there near you and was able to catch the child before any damage could be done right from the beginning.
“You should be more careful.”
“Sorry, sorry I didn't expect it…it to laugh.”
“It's not it, it's a he.”
You narrowed your eyes at his demeaning tone, about to retort when Heeseung waved his phone in front of you.
“We're going to be needing your number, so we'll create a group chat where we'll discuss how we go about this whole thing.”
You agreed by nodding and grabbed his phone. Typing in your number, you gave yourself a call so as to have his number.
“Okay. I think we're done for today aren't we? We can discuss what to do ahead after the lunch break?”
You didn't even realize it was almost 12 pm and your stomach grumbled in hunger.
“Righttt, well who's going to take the little human around for now? We can talk about what and how to go about after lunch?”
You asked around to which Sunghoon replied,
“How about we all just sit at the same table? Seeing we'll be talking afterwards anyways.”
Seems fair.
Though I should probably inform Niki, Sun, and Won.
“Sure, let's go then.”
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a/n : GUYS ITS UP🙏🙏 FINALLY. also yes this is very much more writing based but it's just for you all to get an idea/brief intro to the characters, further going it'll have less written and more smaus parts! ( I hope) don't worry next chap you won't need to wait 29921 days. also Jay alr having need with u liek 😭😭 anways I'll do my best to upload asap <3 let me know what you think of this!!
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taglist ( open ) : @strxwberry-skiess ; @whippedforbeomgyu ; @urszn ; @cha3w0n-hearts ; @cassie6392 ; @nicholasluvbot : @xiaoderrrr ; @eleanorheartschishiya ; @wonunuwoo ; @antonsgirlfriend ; @aygotnobitches ; @dimplewonie ; @hoeinthehouse ; @belovedsthings
all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.
writingmeraki Ⓒ 2024
links : main navigation | enhypen masterlist | info
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karmicgalaxies · 1 day
Text
NSFW Alphabet — Morph
18+ Content MDNI!
Morph (Aka Kevin Sydney) X Reader
Disclaimers: This is just what I think for the sake of fun and whimsy! Implied unprotected sex (Wrap it before you tap it!), mentions of a Threesome, Riding, Face-fucking, Face-sitting, Vibrators, Light Bondage, Body Worship, Blindfolds & Squirting. Poorly proofread, excuse any errors!
Reader referred to in a gender neutral sense, AFAB reader pictured when writing, however genitals aren’t specified!
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Teasing and being a cheeky little shit aside, Morph is an absolute sweetheart. They already see sex as something highly intimate. A dance of not just passion and lust, but an act of trust with their partner’s body, and them with theirs. That being said, aftercare is a big deal to them.
No matter the intensity of the session, they’ll always make sure that you’re okay, always helping clean up the mess the two of you made, and give you some kisses paired with soft caress. And, who could forget the teasing about the sounds that escaped your pretty lips for them during the act? Even laid up together basking in the afterglow of your passions, you never know true peace. But, you’re more than okay with that.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
When It comes to their partner, Morph’s favorite body part would definitely have to be your hips. They’re just so grabable. They’re easy to wrap an arm or two around, grip onto while they grind themselves onto your ass from behind when you don’t expect it, and damn are they good handles for when you ride their cock. They just love the look of them and how easy it makes it to handle you.
Morph themself have some insecurities. They’ll transform into their more human looking form to try and appease you as they think that’d be what you want. However upon your further insistence of loving them and being attracted and aroused by them as they are in their true form, they learn to come to appreciate themselves a helluva lot more. Though they’d definitely say their face. It’s a perfect seat, nuff said.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Morph LOVES to watch you cum, seeing the mess that you make just turns them on tenfold, making their cock absolutely throb at the sight. Especially if you make a mess on them or in their mouth. They’ll lap that mess right up and come up to kiss you, just so you can taste yourself on their tongue.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
They constantly fantasize about a threesome between you and Logan. They wonder what it’d be like, though for that’d be wistful thinking for it to come to fruition. For now, it’s masturbation material to give that extra edge. ;)
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Morph isn’t the most experienced person if you’d compare them to someone like Scott or Logan, but they’ve garnered enough experience to know what they’re doing, and they never fall short of leaving you properly pleasured.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Anything that allows Morph a good look at your face, they simply adore. Being able to maintain eye contact, as well as having opportunities to kiss you absolutely senseless as their cock drives into you in one way or another is just absolute bliss. Not to mention the opportunity for teasing. Watching your face contort as you get fucked and seeing those pretty eyes roll back into your head give them absolute ammunition to tease you about it through and through. Some of the things they say are absolute filth, though it only betters the experience as they get to see your face react to their comments of your obscenely lewd sounds or their mention of how pathetic you sound.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
As serious and passionate as sex can be at times, Morph is pretty humorous throughout, their personality does not hesitate one bit to shine through. Best believe they’ll still crack their wise muses, making smart comment after smart comment. all in all, the occasional laughs will be had. Makes every experience more memorable.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Given the fact that Morph lacks eyebrows and hair atop their head, it’d be a safe, yet correct assumption that they have an overall lack of body hair. However in their human form, they have a little happy trail.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
They are very passionate during sex. Wether it be soft love making, or rough fucking, the passion is almost overwhelming. Amongst the eye contact, they’re muttering out praises for you, telling you how good you feel, how much of a good job you’re doing. Dependent on what type of session is going on, they can be sweeter or a bit more vulgar depending.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Usually, Morph is pretty good at maintaining their composure, though it can only be helped so much when you’re gone for an extended period of time. If they’re real desperate, they might just turn into you as they masturbate. Just so that they can imagine they’re getting a feel of you even though you aren’t present.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Praise kink. They live for your approval, being told their doing a good job, that they feel good, etc. They’re into face sitting and face fucking, as well as some light bondage and blindfold use. Morph enjoys occasionally having you to their mercy, makes things quite interesting and fun for you both! Also, body worship.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
The real question is where wouldn’t they wanna fuck you? Though traditionally, Morph’s favorite places are in the bedroom and the showers. (wink wink nudge nudge) They offer an intimate setting that include just the two of you, though they would be lying to themselves if they haven’t pictured taking you in other places of the mansion.. They’ll definitely have to talk to you about that.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Dirty talk and suggestive banter. Morph is chalk full of jokes and no doubt they make some suggestive comments here or there. When that teasing energy is reciprocated, it never fails to get them all worked up, hot and bothered with those words of scandalous promise falling from that pretty mouth that they’re totally not envisioning their cock stuffed inside of while you’re on your knees.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Nothing that plays with the bounds of consent or the possibility of bringing extreme pain or unsavory circumstance upon either you or them. Morph’s not a fan of anything that causes a threat to your security or comfort. They don’t get off on pain, wether it be feeling it or dealing it out. (Unless it’s a nice firm tap on your ass) If you’re gonna fuck, they want to make sure they have your consent, and to ensure you’re in good hands. No if’s and’s or but’s!
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Morph’s an even mix of loving to give as well as receive, But oh what fun it is to see you absolutely crumble under the ministrations of his mouth and tongue. They’re pretty good at giving head, it doesn’t take a genius to know their way around. Though even then, Morph takes the extra mile to be a very attentive lover. Oral sex can be a delicate ordeal, so they find themselves paying attention to what makes you react in all the right ways. Finding out what are your sensitive spots, and knowing just how to work that mouth to get your back arching and toes curling in absolutely ecstasy. They’re a generous partner all throughout.
But oh how they love to receive as well. A warm mouth just wrapping itself around their cock, leaving them a mess of moans and whines, resisting the temptation to just buck their hips and just fuck the ever loving shit out of your face.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
They can be a mix of both, depending on the occasion! If it’s a more sensual love making night, they’ll settle for slow and sensual. However if it’s more of a passionate fuck, then the fast and rough will be more prominent. Though their pace ultimately is determined by what you beg him for! Less, their being a tease and Morph’s thrusts are achingly slow.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Absolutely! Despite loving the long drawn out sessions, They’ll never pass up on a quickie, taking you in a secluded corner or place. The risk factor of it all adding to the thrill and overall arousal. They’re not common, but when they do happen, they’re worth the while!
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Morph isn’t too big on big risks, though despite quickies, they aren’t opposed to getting a bit…frisky. They can get pretty touchy feely, even being as bold to slide a hand down your pants if the occasion allows.
They’re also open to experimentation in the bedroom, so long it’s something the two of you agree can be pleasurable to you both, They’re more than willing to try out any positions, kinks, and ideas!
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Their stamina is pretty average, it isn’t anything super humanly excessive, however they can go for quite a few rounds, longer with adequate breaks. In terms of how long they can last, they’ve got pretty good endurance of a few minutes, though that can decrease if Morph is being reduced to an absolute mess.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
They definitely own one or two vibrators. Mostly with intent on using them on you, however they sure won’t be opposed to having them used on themself!
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
One of the biggest teases on the goddamn planet. Leaving lingering touches everywhere except for where you really need them, slowing down a pace if they feel like being cocky. Hell, Morph will even tease with their words, adding further insult to injury at a denial of the pleasures you so seek.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
They are NOT quiet by any stretch of the woods. Chances are, Morph is whining and moaning right along with you. They are very vocal, and don’t shy away from that fact. They are a whiny little bitch, god forbid if you ride them, their soul is just snatched up at that point. If they feel good, you will know.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
They absolutely love when they make you squirt. (If applicable) It’s such an addicting sight and feel, they can’t get enough of it. They’re hard as a goddamn diamond at the sight of you soaking the sheets, the floor beneath you, through your intimates and your bottoms, etc. they just love to see and feel it. As well as occasionally have a taste of it. (This is more of a thing for AFAB readers but I really do think they’d have a thing for their partner squirting, I just feel it in my nuggets man-)
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
They’re about average size more or less! 5.5 to 6 inches long, and a comfortable girth, perfect size. Their cock is long enough to please, and thick enough to stretch you and make you cum. No leaving you dissatisfied that’s for sure!
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Morph’s sex drive isn’t anything crazy, something else that’s pretty average. Though it’s pretty easy to deliberately rile them up and get them extremely hot and bothered . Continue at your discretion ;)
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Morph doesn’t let themself fall asleep until they know you’ve been cleaned up and cared for properly after sex. Though even then, they’ll stay up with you, embrace you as they listen to you speak about whatever your heart desires. Though if you want to sleep, they’re fine with that too, and will follow suit.
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endwersed · 16 hours
Text
WIP Wednesday
Tagged by the dreams that are @hedwig221b & @dear-massacre 🥰
Another week, another li'l excerpt from my current Sterek FWB AU WIP: you don't see me. Derek and Stiles are besties since college and roommates, and Derek is 'straight'.
-
"Don't try to swallow," Stiles says. "It can be... a lot, your first time. Especially for a straight guy."
Derek frowns. “I told you, I don't mind –“
A quick, high laugh from Stiles' smiling, pink mouth effectively cuts Derek off, and he abruptly yanks the supporting hand out from under his head to clamp firm fingers around Derek's bicep.
“Dude,” he monotones, "just trust me on this.”
Derek allows himself a beat to click his tongue irritably, but concession comes soon enough, in the form of a long, heaving sigh.
“Fine,” he grouses. “Just let me know when you’re close, then.”
"Sure, yeah, fine." Stiles' agreement comes out just a little bit breathless, and he squirms against the sheets as Derek knees his way in between his easily parting legs. "Shit. Okay. This... this is actually happening. Just – take it slow, all right? And be careful with your teeth, for the love of god."
The hot skin of the outside of Derek's thigh brushes, presses up against the soft skin on the inside of Stiles', and Stiles responds with an instant intake of breath, the grip he has on his own dick through his underwear tightening for a moment.
Derek feels like he's blinking through thick, sickly sweet syrup as he tears his gaze away and up to Stiles' face.
"Feel free to smack me around the head if I'm too terrible," he jokes.
Stiles rolls his eyes. The intensity of the gesture is undermined, slightly, by the bright flush that covers the entire expanse of his high cheekbones.
"Obviously I'm not going to smack you, Derek," he says.
Derek huffs. "I just mean, don't suffer on account of my ego, is all."
“I really don’t think I see any suffering on the cards here." Stiles pauses, head tilting to the side as he tucks one finger beneath the waistband of his boxers. "At least, not on my side, anyway."
"We should stop stalling," Derek rationalises. "This is already far too much talking for a decent blowjob."
Stiles scoffs, another finger slipping in to join the first. But still, they simply linger in that one place, making no move to push the item down, tug it away. Still, he just lies there, with the hard line of his dick obscenely visible through the indecently thin layer of fabric.
“Maybe I’m nervous,” he says.
Derek lifts an eyebrow. “You’re nervous?”
“Shut up,” Stiles says, a shaky laugh, a deep breath, and then his boxers are hurriedly pulled down to meet the bunched-up fabric of his sweatpants, his dick springing out to bounce against his taut stomach. “Okay. Fuck. Let’s do this.”
A snort escapes Derek at the severity in Stiles’ voice, the pinch of a frown creasing between his eyebrows. He bites the inside of his cheek to keep another burst of laughter from pushing its way out of him when Stiles’ mouth tugs even further down, almost comically downturned, at this barest hint of amusement.
Silently, Derek lowers himself, dropping his shoulders and his gaze until he can settle properly in between Stiles’ inched apart thighs. He takes in the length of Stiles’ erection, stiff and leaking a little at the tip, and he feels a hot simmer churn in his stomach, a vibrant current running underneath his skin.
Nerves, obviously. Simple, inevitable – nerves.
Enough words have passed between them now; too many words, just like he said before. And it’s without another syllable passing through his lips that he gets himself comfortable, reaches out to curl fingers at the base of Stiles’ dick to hold it firm and ready, and leans forward until he can wrap his mouth around the tip.
-
No pressure tags! @aurevell @crownofstardustandbone @lucky-bishop @renmackree @thotpuppy
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mysilaan · 2 days
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Hi!! Could I request some headcanons for Thomas (MCL NG), when he starts falling in love with Candy/Ysaline? 💕 Thank you
I had a hard time imagining it ‘cause… I DON’T KNOW ??? So I just decided to write some kind of ‘chapter 2’ of my last Thomas headcanon ⭐
(note : if you want to read the part.1, there's a "mcl ng headcanons" category on my blog to find it more easily)
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THOMAS MCL NG HEADCANON PART.2 🍒
As promised, after a long day at work, Thomas was waiting for you in order to give you a ride on his motorbike. You had to admit that you spent most of the day thinking about this long-awaited evening. You joined your colleague at the exit and greeted him with your best smile. “I hope I didn’t make you wait too long.” you asked. “It’s okay.” You were now used to Thomas' way of ‘making conversation’; you remembered how impolite you found him when you first joined Devenmentiel, but you eventually ended up understanding that it was not in his intention to be rude: it was just the way Thomas was. When you finally reached his motorcycle, he opened the trunk and handed you a black helmet as he put his on. You thanked him and put it on your head properly… or you thought so… Thomas’ hands approached your face without any warning. You stepped back a little, startled at first, but accepted it when you realized he just wanted to tighten the straps correctly. “Oh… Thank you.” The moment was a bit awkward as Thomas scrutinized your face to see if your helmet was on properly without saying anything. “We’re good.” he finally said. He hopped on his bike and gestured for you to do the same. You slid behind him and put your hands around his waist, which made him tense up a little. “Sorry! Do you want me to put my hands somewhere else?” “No, it’s fine… Which restaurant did you choose to go to?” “Oh, right !” You almost forgot to give him the address. Once you did, you both were ready to ride through the city. Feeling the motorcycle growl beneath you was absolutely thrilling, and as you finally started moving, the adrenaline filled your head. Thomas wasn’t riding too fast, considering he had a passenger, but he was still going at a thrilling speed to your delight. It wasn’t the first time you were riding a motorbike with someone, but the sensation was always the same: it was liberating and immensely soothing. You were even slightly disappointed when you parked up in front of the restaurant. As the two of you took off your helmets, Thomas was about to ask you what you thought about the ride, but seeing your ear-to-ear smile was answer enough. He smiled to himself, satisfied that you liked it, which you decided to express verbally anyway. “It was insane! I absolutely loved the sensation! I’m tempted to get my license and buy one myself now…” “Why don’t you?” he asked honestly as you were heading in the restaurant. “Uhh... Lack of time? Or will… I don’t really know. It's something I always wanted to do but never had the courage to. Watching other people is cool, but once I'm in control, I find it pretty terrifying... Same for cars, that’s why I still take the bus,” you laughed.
The conversation paused as a waiter led you to your table and gave you the menu, but Thomas continued it anyway. “I understand it seems scary, but at the beginning, you have instructors all around you. Once you understand how it works, it's easy to trust yourself.” “Yeah, I know… But the hardest part with these things is taking the first step.” Thomas simply nodded, his eyes were fixed on an invisible point, he was deeply thinking about something but his attention quickly went back to you. During the dinner, you had the chance to talk about things other than work with Thomas. It was mainly about motorcycles at first, but the subject ended up drifting away, and you found more interests in common to talk about. You listened to him talk about his passion for hacking things, with that rare spark in his eyes that always appeared when he talked about something he liked. In return, he listened to you talk about your hobbies with genuine interest. It felt nice having someone listen to you without being judgmental. You left the restaurant, knowing a little more about each other and wanting to know even more. It was a strange feeling, as if your mind were connected at that moment and that, without talking, you were telling the other that this won't be the last time you’d go out together. Something even scraped the back of your mind. Could you consider this a date? But you chased away the thought, blushing a little, hoping that the red-haired man beside you didn’t notice. When you approached the motorcycle again, Thomas didn’t get on immediately. “Hey, would you like to try riding it?” You thought you didn’t hear well. “What?” “You said you were hesitant to get one yourself. If you’d like to try and see how it feels, you can. I’ll still help with the controls, of course; I wouldn’t want you to wreck my bike.” Was it okay for you to accept? But before you could weigh the pros and cons, you nodded and approached the bike. “Your helmet.” Thomas reminded you before doing anything. You put it on, the right way this time, and hoped on the bike once again, but on the pilot seat this time. It felt so weird… Thomas sat behind you, leaning on you a bit to show you the commands. “Here you have the brake lever, and you press here to start the bike: it’s the starter pedal.” You listened intently to his instructions and looked up at the nearly empty parking lot in front of you. All you had to do was to go straight ahead, with Thomas’ help on top of that, but you were so scared to mess it up. “Keep your hands firmly on the handlebars, and like when you learn to ride a bicycle, watch straight ahead.”
His voice was calm as always, yet firm. He was really involved in his improvised role as motorcycle instructor. He continued to explain to you many other things, and you suddenly became aware of how close your bodies were, he was almost leaning over you, but wasn’t even noticing.  “Are you listening?” “Yes! Yes… sorry, I am… I’m just a little nervous.” “There’s no need, I’ll make the most of it, just try to hold the handlebar well.” “Alright.” You firmly grabbed the handlebars as if your life depended on it (which it did, in a way), and it felt like you were back in your younger days, learning to balance on a bicycle, except this one had a motor. You startled a little when Thomas’ hands wrapped yours, for safety reasons… “Let’s go.” he finally said, making the vehicle move forward. You weren’t going fast at all, but it was already quite hard to maintain the handlebar still and go straight ahead without damaging anything; thankfully, Thomas’ strong grip over yours helped to avoid any unnecessary accident. When he braked the motorcycle after a few meters, you let out a relieved sigh.  “Wow… It’s definitely harder than it seems. It was great though!” You couldn’t see Thomas’ face behind you, but you could swear you felt him chuckle a little against your back. “I can’t say you did well but I hoped it gave you the will to learn now.” “Thank God I know you… If it had been me before, I would never set foot on a motorcycle again!” you joked. “Sorry.” Thomas was sorry? Now that was unusual. “I was just joking, don’t worry!” He didn’t answer, but knowing him, he probably just nodded. You got off the bike to give Thomas his place back, and took yours behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist one more time. The ride back to your house was as thrilling as the one to the restaurant, but the mood had changed a bit. The air around you was chilly, yet you couldn’t help but feel warm against Thomas. Despite the city being filled with motor and honking noises, you were in your own bubble, shared with the man in front of you, shutting out any noise coming from outside. It felt like you were on a different planet. Letting him go of your embrace made you cold all of sudden, a shiver ran down your spine, but you had to accept that it was the end of your little trip. You handed back his helmet to Thomas, and offered him a sincere, gratifying smile. “Thank you for tonight… You didn’t have to do all that, but I’m thankful you did.” When you said that, something changed in Thomas' attitude but you couldn’t say exactly what. “You’re welcome. It was… nice?” You chuckled softly, knowing it was the best he could express his feelings. “Yeah, it was nice.” you repeated “Get home safe, thank you again. I’ll see you tomorrow!” You waved him off and headed home.As you searched for the right key to unlock your door, Thomas waited silently without moving. He was thinking that he’d like having other moments like this with you. He liked your presence and talking about anything with you. It really felt nice, but he couldn’t say why. When you finally opened your door and waved one last time at him, he watched you close your door, thinking that he was really looking forward to seeing you tomorrow.
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mylovelookup · 1 day
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Your art is so ugly and I know you’ve been ignoring and deleting my asks because you’re a COWARD. You don’t even know how to color properly and your lines are so fucking messy. The saltburn fandom would do great without your garbage tbh. You must know that since you barely get any likes lol
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Hello anon! Tbh idk if these are all yours and I didn’t screenshot all of them because they all pretty much said the same thing and I deleted a lot of asks similar to these.
There’s no question to answer here so I’m just gonna say that I know I’m not that good but I never cared about the amount of likes I’d get. I make and post art out of love for whatever piece of media I’m obsessed with at the moment and I’m not sure what’s bothering you so much about my art but if your objective was to hurt my feelings I’m sorry to say anon but there’s no vesper hater greater than myself. If you don’t like what I post the easy choice would be to just scroll down and ignore it or better yet, block me. Doing that would only take a fraction of the time you spent writing these. I’m sure that that would make life easier for both of us.
Now that I’ve answered these, please stop bothering me. Thanks✌️
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samuraisharkie · 2 years
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I’m gonna be honest I’m seeing the top gun posts and I want to reblog them but I am just. Too goddamn tired for this exceptional bullshit rn. I cannot fucking believe y’all are “fandomizing” racist military propaganda. they’re not allies. you people realize that right? i don’t care what gay subtext they put in their movies. they don’t care about you and they are actively working to erase your freedom to be who you are, and ur encouraging it bc you care more about ur fake worlds than the real one. one day ur gonna pull ur head out of the computer once and for all and go ‘this is horrible! when did it get this bad! how can we fix it?’ but it will be too fucking late for you because you willfully pushed reality away to waste time actively encouraging the destruction of people’s lives. i don’t want t see any of y’all campaigning for overseas countries or even against the police while you’re defending this sort of movie. because clearly your allyship is only words and nothing more. you don’t care about anything but your white fantasies and daydreams where you never have to worry about anyone other than yourself. if I see one of you morons talking about “acab” or how much damage america has done in Iran and Palestine, I’m going to make it my life goal to make you regret it, bc your words are empty. 90% of you think being queer or what have you makes you automatically immune to being bigots and that you don’t have to do shit in terms of reparations or activism, but it’s the exact opposite. you people stick your head in the sand, close your ears and scream, and hold your breath until you pass out instead of confront the fact that some media is made only for the purpose of propaganda and harm of marginalized peoples, no matter how many queer couples are in it. like top gun, like first kill, like our flag means death, like the umbrella academy, and so on. you people are the reason why our oppressors are bolder than ever. you will walk willingly into their open maw and shut down all those trying to stop you, and you’ll make sure you take as many down with you as possible. I can’t wish enough suffering upon you for the betrayal you lay on those trying to stop the destruction, because unlike you, instead of shrugging our shoulders and going ‘eh, the world is on fire anyways, I’m looking out for number one’, there are those who care about the world and the people in it, the world that makes it possible for you to continue living ignorant and selfish, who want to continue living in this world and helping others live together to because even if we can’t reverse the damage of the fire, as long as we’re still standing we can put it out and help the wounds heal. there are those of us that care about real people, not your military bigots who you only pretend to hate when another gruesome massacre manages to come to the surface of the public consciousness. I’m tired of you people betraying every supposed ideal you say you fight for the moment you have the opportunity to smother yourself in more mindless and harmful indulgence. It would be one thing if you even admitted the media you consumed was harmful, but you won’t even do that. You can’t even do that. Because that would mean acknowledging the real world and the real people who are affected by your ignorance and that’s just “not fun”. I wish all of you the violent fear and pain you afford others with your willful ignorance and vitriol.
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toaster-trash · 11 months
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Sometimes I remember that my sanity is actually dependant on a few fictional characters from 200 years ago, like not a silly haha joke but that I genuinely don’t have any other support system or healthy coping mechanism other than reading about and engaging in fan content for these fictional Victorians, and then I am like “uh oh. Goodness me. I may be in a bit of a sticky situation. A pickle, if you will.”
Anyway ahahahah something something humorous tumblr post as a coping mechanism ahaha something something
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hobisexually · 1 year
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x
#hello it’s your weekly scheduled trauma dump on tungle dot com!#I never knew how to explain why I don’t like the holidays right#because yes! I’m full of love and warmth and want to celebrate nice times with the people I love! absolutely#and I like the coziness and the everything#but Monday it was Sinterklaas and it used to be my favourite holiday of them all#it truly makes me feel like a kid and I used to hold on to this holiday with my tiny fists SO tightly because it was just. pure joy.#minus the racism re: piet obviously that’s a whole other can of worms I won’t get into rn#but this Monday it all exploded because of my dad and it was truly a throwback to my entire teenage years#and how it was all about appearances and pleasing anyone but me only to sit in a car and think about how fake it all is and how#that love isn’t. felt. not really. it’s always been about unspoken pain hè projects onto everyone else without respecting your boundaries#and I just can’t do it anymore and this time I set a firm hard no and his temper tantrum led to my mum choosing him over me EVEN THOUGH#THEY ARE LITERALLY DIVORCED??????????#‘amber hes crying it’s heartbreaking you’re coming’#yeah well I was also crying at WORK by myself where it is of the UTMOST importance to me they don’t know about any of this#but no no this whole grown man who is in a fucked situation with his family OF HIS OWN UNDOING is who we’re choosing instead of your child#I went! I put on my big girl pants and went and said hi to his family and was more than civil and celebrated with the kids#but it cost me so much. and for the first time ever I saw exactly how much it really cost me#I spent three whole days trying to set a boundary and stand up for myself only for it to be discarded because my No doesn’t matter ever#then I was so stressed i broke my own body in an attempt trying to be civil like my entire cheek is swollen from biting it I literally#haven’t been able to eat properly since Tuesday. my stomach hurts. my headache hasn’t gone. and I am so so so tired I fell asleep at 7pm#and I’ve been white as a sheet everyone at work could tell something was wrong but they didn’t know What exactly#and just. the contact with this man. I can’t keep doing it not when it does /this/ to me#I can’t even properly explain what it’s like or what happens. just that I can’t do it anymore because it’s tearing me apart and it actively#holds me back? I spent the past four years in therapy talking about and trying to fix everything he instilled in me but is holding me back#in my life. in my relationships. in my work. in the way I look at /myself/#I can’t keep surviving I have to start living#and it’s ALWAYS worse around the holidays. the worst fights and nights of my life have been during the holidays#I am thirty years old and I was suddenly a fifteen year old this week who desperately needed help but wasn’t getting it#and I refuse to live like that ever again. I’m done. I’m done!#and it’s deeply sad and upsetting but we can’t fix this. we just can’t.
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mrsbarnesblog · 4 months
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for you
masterlist ko-fi ao3
Summary: Mattheo gets into another fight with a new guy and when Professor McGonnagal surprisingly do not punishes your boyfriend for it, you discover what she really thinks about your relationships.
Word count: 2.6k
Warnings: established relationships, protective boyfriend Matty, fights, insults and creepy guys, language, mentions of blood, hints of sex at the end.
Author's note: idk, the summary kinda sucks, but I couldn't think of anything better. basically it's just me being McGonnagal's fan and a simp for Mattheo 😘
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Mattheo was sitting with his friends on one of the benches outside the castle. He was partly listening to whatever Blaise was saying about the next Quidditch game, more thinking about you and about the fact that he almost didn’t see you during the day. 
He was completely lost in his thoughts until he heard your name slip out of the new guy’s, Eddie's, mouth. He and another Ravenclaw student were sitting not far away, and Mattheo’s attention was immediately drawn to their conversation.
“Yeah, that girl Y/N, right? I tried to talk to her during the lecture but she acted like a total bitch.” The guy laughed, elbowing his housemate as if he said something funny. Mattheo’s fist tightened, and he tried to hear more to figure out whether they were talking about you or not. 
“Wait, dude.” The other guy chuckled, almost in shock. “You mean that Y/N? Riddle’s girl? You tried to hit on her? Nah, you better drop that shit. It’s like serious between them and all, no one usually bothers her because Riddle goes crazy about it.”
“Don’t care, man. I’ll find a way to get to her. I know she’s gonna be a total freak in bed, I will find a way to fuck her.“
Mattheo just snapped, jumping out of his place in a matter of seconds. Before one of his friends or even Eddie realized what was going on, Mattheo had already dragged him to the floor, punching his face. 
“Wanna repeat what the fuck you just said about her?” He hissed at the guy, making another hit into the jaw. 
“I said that she looked fuckable.” 
It turned into a total mess, with them fighting on the ground and other students staring like it was some kind of show. The crowd got bigger, but Mattheo did not care about it at all; he was too busy with the way his knuckles met that ugly face. 
Only a few minutes later, Blaise, Theo, and Draco dragged Mattheo away, while a few Ravenclaw students restrained Eddie. 
Mattheo was almost uncontrollable, puffing and trying to escape from the firm hands that were holding him in place. 
You heard that your boyfriend got into another fight, but as Luna said, it was something bigger and that he was even more violent today. 
You brushed through the crowd, immediately standing before Mattheo’s eyes to catch his attention. You placed both of your hands on his chest and quickly nodded to his friends to let him go. As soon as he became free, he tried to push forward, almost radiating anger. The fact that Eddie was proudly smiling behind your back did not help the situation. 
“No. Mattheo, stop it. What’s going on?” You felt the way he was breathing, as if he had run a few miles, and it was mostly anger. His face had a few drops of blood; the brow and lip were cut, and you knew that you would have to clean them up later, but now you only wanted him to calm down and speak to you properly. 
“Hey, baby. Remember me?” The voice behind your back made you turn your head around, only now seeing the guy your boyfriend was fighting with. It was a new student from another school who was annoying you during your class and almost got you two in detention. You wanted to slap him so badly for the way he was talking to you, but you knew that the best way to deal with such people was to ignore them. They were always thriving on any type of attention. He looked much worse than Mattheo. Already blossoming bruises under his eye, on the jaw, and blood running out of his nose, and when he gave you that nasty smile, you saw his red teeth too. "C'mon, that’s why you were ignoring me, huh? Voldemort’s son? You could find someone better to fuck.”
“I’m gonna fucking kill him.” You felt how Mattheo moved forward again, but you slightly pushed him back. You lifted one of them to his cheek, caressing it in slow circles. 
“No, you’re not. He's not worth it, Matty. Hey, look at me, please.” You put a slight pressure on his face to distract him and make him set his eyes on you. You had seen him during the fights before, but this time it was different. The way Mattheo’s eyes were completely dark, slightly narrowed, and full of rage, his face expression was so cold and nothing like you got used to. For a moment, you understood why sometimes even his friends preferred not to step in. 
Eddie pissed you off during the previous lesson, where he decided to sit with you, chat, and flirt. You tried to pay as little attention to him as possible, completely uninterested in the jerk with no manners and a big ego. He got to school just a few days ago but you already hated him with your whole heart. 
Though you couldn’t let your boyfriend start the fight again. Eddie was clearly provoking him with that weirdly satisfied grin on his face and rude words, probably so later he could say that the Dark Lord’s son was trying to kill him. 
Mattheo's eyes were ruining between your face and Eddie behind your back, as if he were trying to make a decision. Your fingers didn’t stop moving in slow motion on his jaw and you thought that you felt some tension leaving his body. 
“I hate the way he was talking about you.” He said it roughly, trying to control his body and emotions. Yes, Mattheo’s eyes were full of anger, but there was something deeper. He was hurt. 
“I know, Matty, I know.” You stepped a bit closer to distract your overprotective boyfriend. At that moment, you almost forgot that you were in front of everyone and all the students are going to gossip about your interaction for the next week. “He’s provoking you. He wants to make you the bad guy. Don’t let him do that, please. We should just leave, okay?” You almost whispered, not breaking eye contact.
“Yeah, Matty, listen to your little girlfriend if you don’t want to—”
“Mr. Carmichael!” The loud, stern voice of Professor McGonnagal interrupted whatever he wanted to say and everyone went quiet for a few seconds. “You are not allowed to speak in this tone inside our school. Mr. Carmichael, Mr. Riddle and Ms. Y/L/N, follow me to my office, and everyone else must go back to their classes.”
“But Professor, Y/N didn't do anything wrong!” Mattheo protested, on instinct, placing his hand on your back and stepping closer. 
“I said all three of you should go to my office, Mr. Riddle. Now.” Without another word, she left. Mattheo cursed near you, blaming himself for getting you into trouble, but you gave him a reassuring smile and, interlacing your hands, led him to McGonnagal’s office. 
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As soon as you walked in, Mattheo stood, separating you and Eddie so he wouldn’t be able to talk or even look at you. 
“Are any of you willing to tell me what exactly happened there?” McConnagal sat in her chair, observing all of you. You stayed in front of her in silence.
“I punched him because he was saying inappropriate things about Y/N, Professor.” Mattheo briefly looked at you and you slightly squeezed his hand in yours in return. You saw how McGonnagal looked at your hands but you did not pull away, willing to show your boyfriend that you weren’t mad or blaming him. 
“Is that so?” She looked at you. 
“I wasn’t there when the fight started, but Eddie was bothering me earlier during the lessons. He made a few comments about me, even though I asked him to leave me alone, so I assume that it might’ve been the reason for Mattheo to do it.” 
“Liar.” 
“Mr. Carmichael, you are not in the position to talk back right now. That is quite impressive that you were able to get into the fight without even being here for weak. You are getting a detention, plus you’ll help Professor Snape after tomorrow's lesson. He’ll be happy to deal with you, I’m sure. Also, 20 points from Ravenclaw.” McGonnagal ignored his dramatic groan, now looking at Mattheo. Judging by the tension in his body, he was ready for the worst. “What about you, Mr. Riddle…” She briefly looked at you, and you didn’t really understand what it meant. “This time, I’m only giving you a warning: in Hogwarts, we do not support any kind of violence. You may be free.” 
“That’s unfair! I’m covered in blood because of him. Are you really not going to punish the Dark Lord’s son? He could’ve killed me!” 
“One more word and I’m taking away more points. You both are free, but you, Ms. Y/L/N, please stay for a few minutes.” 
“But she— Professor, please don’t do this.” Mattheo stepped closer to her desk and you thought that he sounded as if he had suddenly panicked. It was strange. 
“Hey, Mattheo, don’t worry about me. I promise, it’s okay.” You pulled him back, curiously looking at his weird behaviour. “Just wait for me outside, please. It won’t be long.” He stared at you for a moment, but then kissed you on the cheek and went out of the room. 
“It’s truly magical to see the kind of love you two share, my dear.” McGonnagal softly laughed and you felt the heat on your cheeks. “Come sit here, please.” McGonnagal pointed to the chair in front of her desk. 
“What did you want to talk about, professor?” 
“Well, I know that this is not my place to interfere, but I wanted to say that you and Mr. Riddle share something really rare and special. And while I do not support his physical way of dealing with problems, I know that he deeply cares about you, darling, and this is how he expresses it.” It was weird to hear such words from someone else. You always respected Professor McGonnagal and the fact that she said that made your heart fill with even more love. 
“Was it the reason why you didn’t punish him for the fight?” She nodded. 
“Mattheo is a really smart boy with a kind heart and a good chance to have a really successful and wonderful life. The only thing that may ruin it is his family; I'm sure you understand that.” McGonnagal looked at you with a soft smile on her lips. “I see the way you affect him. How he became less distant during the lessons, started smiling more, and that you two are always connected no matter what. Everyone noticed it, even us professors. You may be the only bright thing in his life, my dear; that’s why I want you to ask to be there and not let him slip into the darkness. I just know that such love is so pure and strong and I hope it’ll live as long as the world exists.”
“Um– thank you, professor. I don’t even have enough words to express myself, but I appreciate your support. I’ll do everything in my power to save it.” You suddenly felt extremely emotional after this talk, and the only thing that you wanted to do right now was to be in your boyfriend’s arms. 
“Now go. He's probably losing his mind because of you being there for so long. 
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Mattheo did wait for you near McGonnagal’s office and when you walked out of there with slightly glossy eyes and a soft smile, his facial expression changed into something sad and cold, which you did not quite understand. As usual, after his fights, you went into his dorm, but the walk there was weirdly quiet. 
When you walked into his dorm and then to the bathroom, where you usually cleaned his wounds, he just followed you, hopping onto the counter near the sink and waiting while you prepared the first aid kit.
“Are you okay?” You stepped in between his legs, holding his face with your left hand and the wet towel in the other. You wiped the dried blood and then applied salve. “You’re acting kind of weird.”
He stayed silent for a few seconds, as if he were considering his words. “Are you going to break up with me? If so, then just say it right away and don’t torture me. I fucking hate it.” His eyes were locked on your necklace with the letter R, while your hand froze in the air in shock. 
“Wh– Matty, what are you talking about?!” He finally looked up, meeting with your eyes, and you understood that he was trying to be casual and careless about it, but in fact he looked hurt.
“Isn’t it why McGonnagal asked you to stay? To say that I’m bad for you or something.”
“This is why you didn’t want to leave me there? I saw the way you looked at me… Oh, baby, no, I’m not going to break up with you.” You gently cupped his cheeks; now the tension had partly left Mattheo’s body and he finally put his hands on your waist. “In fact, McGonnagal told me quite the opposite.” Your fingers gently rubbed a bruise on his jaw while he looked at you in disbelief. 
“What do you mean?” Mattheo slightly frowned. His hands unconsciously tightened around you, causing you to step even closer to him. 
"Well, she said that you are really smart and that you have a lot of opportunities in the future if you’ll make the right decisions. She told me that you need someone like me to be here for you… and that what we have is really pure and magical.” You almost whispered the last part. The silence in the bathroom became almost too heavy, and the way Mattheo was looking made your stomach tighten with a weird feeling. 
“I thought she hated me.” 
You shook your head. “There’s no reason for her to hate you, Matty. You are not your family. You can live your life how you want to, without any burden or darkness, and I’ll be here for you. Always.” Mattheo’s hand reached for your face, slowly touching your skin. He looked almost mesmerized by you—those pretty brown eyes soft with so much love and feelings for you. 
“Merlin, I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” He drew you closer, your foreheads touching in an intimate gesture. “I love you so fucking much. You’re my everything, Y/N. I know that it might be hard dealing with me, but I’m trying. For you. And I’m sorry for today. I just cannot let anyone disrespect or hurt you, my love.” 
“That’s okay. I’m not mad. Just don’t want you to get hurt too. I love you, Matty. No matter what.” You smiled, closing your eyes, and finally properly kissed him. It was slow and delicate and it felt as if that moment was so significant for your relationship. You were always sure of your’s and Mattheo’s love, but right now it has become serious on another lever. And both of you could not be more happy. 
Mattheo kissed you passionately, pulling you in close and sliding his tongue across your bottom lip. You moaned into his mouth, burying your hands into the messy curls and scratching the scalp. “I hate to say it, but you actually look kind of hot when you’re fighting…”
“Fuck, baby. Let’s stay here for the rest of the day and skip the classes. I want you so fucking bad.” He groaned, lowering his mouth to your neck.
“Are you trying to seduce me, Mattheo Riddle?” You pushed him away, slightly pulling his hair to enjoy those glossy dark eyes and swollen lips. 
“What if I say yes?” Mattheo’s hand slipped under your skirt, teasingly stroking your thigh. 
“Then I'll let you do it.” 
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hollandsangel · 2 months
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move over | m. sturniolo
okAY here we go this is my first sturniolo fic please be nice to me i am afraid
ps if you’d like to be tagged in any (possible) future fics comment 🍜
summary: matt needs a bigger bed
wc: 1k
warnings: matt x fem!reader, cursing, nightmares? no description really, just funny and fluffy 🫡 all the triplets are in it but reader is dating matt!
..does anyone remember that one video where matt said chris never sleeps in his own bed? well…
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gif by @mattsturnioloarchive !
you feel yourself slipping back into consciousness, and you can tell from the soft, pale blue light of matt’s bedroom that it’s morning. matt’s fast asleep behind you, resting on his stomach with you tucked up into his side, his right arm slung over your waist. you’re already upset that you have to pee, the idea of crawling out of the sleep-warm bed and leaving your boyfriend’s cozy embrace is not an appealing one, but the nagging in your bladder won’t go away.
with a sleepy sigh you stretch your arm out just enough to the tap the screen of your phone, the numbers 8:23 glaring back you. you still don’t have to be up for another hour and a half, which you think is an acceptable amount of time left to lay in matt’s arms and snooze a bit more, even if you don’t really need anymore sleep.
it’s a bit tricky to clamber out of bed without waking the sleeping boy next to you. trying to keep from dragging the duvet with you when you slide out. you tuck matt back in properly before you wander off to his bathroom. softly, you click the door shut, and it, along with your sleep-hazy mind, muffles any sounds coming from outside the bathroom.
for once, chris slept in his own bed, knowing you’d be sleeping over and nick was editing the video meant to go up later this afternoon early into the morning. it’s too early for him to be waking up on his own but something stirs him into wakefulness, his heart beating a little faster than it should be.
matt had woken up for a mere second when you slipped out of bed and hasn’t fallen back into the depth of his sleep, waiting for you to come back. he’s just barley alert enough to hear shuffling from down the hall, getting louder until the person responsible is standing at the crack in the door.
“matt?” chris whispers, peeking into the bedroom.
matt groans and rolls over just until he can see his brother over his shoulder, “what, chris?”
“i had a fucked up dream, dude,” chris says, padding further into the room, “where’s y/n?”
matt turns a little closer to his brother, facing him now, “bathroom,” he mumbles, “what was it about?”
chris is still standing in the middle of the room, phone held loosely in his hand, “you got into a fuckin’ car accident, a really bad one” he admits, feeling a bit foolish and juvenile for running to his brother after a bad dream, “can i sleep in here?”
matt’s face softens and he rubs his eye, “yeah, ‘course.” he says, watching chris slowly walk towards the bed, “that’s her side,” he says though when chris tries to lay where you had been.
chris fakes a scowl and matt makes a face back, sleep still tugging at his mind. the two of them lay back down, back to back, tugging the covers over their shoulders.
you finish washing your hands and shut off the bathroom light. rubbing at your eyes, you make your way back to matt’s room, looking forward to sleeping a bit longer. upon wandering in you’re met with more than one body under the blankets, making you stop in your tracks.
“chris?” you wonder outloud, stopped in the door way.
matt answers before his brother can, “he had a bad dream,” he explains to you, face smushed into the pillow, leaving the words all muffled and extra groggy.
“sure,” you say, as if chris sleeping in matt’s bed doesn’t surprise you (it doesn’t). dragging your feet over to your side of the bed to matt, where he’s taking up a bit too much room. “move over,” you tell him when he peels the blankets back for you. he shuffles back with a little too much effort and you climb back into bed.
once you’re settled matt scoots a little bit closer to you to make more room for the three people now in his queen sized bed, but also because he never passes up an excuse to hold you a little tighter.
you doze in and out, matt’s soft breath against your neck keeping you a little bit dazed but not quite enough to lull you back to sleep fully. it must be nearing 10 am now, more bright sun spilling in from the cracks in the curtains above the bed. you think chris is awake too, hearing breathy little chuckles every now and then. you reach for your phone, deciding on a mindless scroll through instagram.
after a few minutes it sounds like nick has also woken up, his footsteps audible in the bedroom above. you hear him coming down the stairs, and you think he stops in the kitchen until his voice fills the quiet halls.
“chris?” he asks, standing in his brother’s empty bedroom, confused as to why he’s not in bed.
“in here,” chris speaks up, waiting for nick to press the door open.
he does, standing at arms length with a skeptical look on his face, almost afraid of what he might find. “um…hello, what are you doing in here?” nick asks, finally crossing the threshold.
“he had a bad dream,” matt says into your shoulder, startling you. you didn’t know he was awake.
“i had a bad dwream,” chris says in that stupid pouty voice that drives all of you insane, no doubt looking at nick with puppy dog eyes.
“oh…kay,” nick says and you laugh at the suspicion still evident in his tone.
“did you see the tik tok i sent you?” chris is laughing but stops abruptly when matt kicks him in the calf, which makes you giggle into your boyfriend’s arm.
“yeah, but i’m a bit more preoccupied with the absurdity of the three of you in matt’s bed right now,” nick says in his distinct deadpan drawl, which only makes you smile more.
“c’mon nick you might as well join us,” you say, earning a loud, over exaggerated groan from matt, his arms tightening around your waist.
you think nick must oblige because he doesn’t say anything for a second, coming closer to the bed.
“move over, dummy fuck,” he says to chris, who laughs out loud and scoots closer to matt.
“i hate them,” matt whispers in your ear.
tags! @mattsturnioloarchive @averysbestyears
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ode2rin · 1 year
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clingy!rin is my favorite rin <3
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it’s 4:30 am, and rin is now wide awake.
rin woke up 30 minutes before his alarm went off. his eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. he blinked a few times, his brain slowly registering that something was off.
that's when he saw your figure turning away from him, your back facing him. you weren't cuddled in his arms like how he remembered falling asleep.
he frowned, his eyebrows furrowed, a typical expression he held in his everyday life, but never towards you. never because of you. except now.
this was the first time it happened. or was it? did you always slip away from his hold when he was fast asleep? did you not like having him close like how he wanted you snuggled in him? or maybe he did something wrong last night? was it something he said? he couldn't recall.
all he knew right now was that he didn't like it. you don’t get to do this to him, rin thought. cuddles were a must for him to function properly! he will never tell you that but he knows you know that!
he laid there for a moment, staring at your back. as much as he hated what was happening right now, he didn't want to wake you up. because as much as you love and adore rin, the earliest of waking up as a part of the pro-athlete life was something you would never try. who in their right mind would wake up at the crack of dawn just to be tired all over again? definitely not you.
rin continued staring at you until his alarm went off. the loud blaring of his alarm stirred you from your sleep. slowly, you turned to rin, and your sleepy eyes blinked up to meet his narrowed ones.
uh oh. someone didn’t have a great sleep, you thought.
“your alarm, rinnie. time to start the day.” you said.
that’s all you could say? no explanation? fine. 
rin let out what seemed like a huff, causing you to open your eyes. lo and behold, rin was pouting.
rin itoshi was pouting. at 5 am.
curious as to what was making your lover sulk so early in the morning, you reached out to cup his jaw. “what’s wrong, baby?” you asked softly.
“you.”
it was now your turn to frown. “me? what do you mean?”
“you were turned away from me.” rin said, his voice barely louder than a whisper.
you must be on a mission to completely infuriate him as you utter a “huh?” in response.
“i woke up and you were turned away from me.” rin replied, a little bolder and louder this time.
“oh.”
rin scoffed at your realization, completely opposite to the smile forming on your lips. 
you opened your arms, beckoning him closer. “come here, rinnie,” you said, your voice tender and soothing.
rin might be feeling a little grumpy, but who was he to decline such a sweet offer?
slowly, rin laid himself in your arms, his face buried in your neck as he took his time to get lost in your scent.
you stroked rin's hair, “i'm sorry,” you said, leaving a gentle kiss on his forehead, kissing the grumpiness away, “i must have moved in my sleep.”
rin let out a sigh at your answer, accepting that it was out of your control.
he wrapped his arms around you tighter, pulling you close to him. “just don't do it again,” he said, his voice hot against your neck. “i need you close to me.”
you smiled at his words. even if your boyfriend might be frequently grumpy and unconventionally clingy, you still wouldn’t have it any other way.
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f0point5 · 1 month
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i NEED jealous Max. Please 🥺🥺🥺 I love jealous/possessive guys haha the feminism just leaves my body
Me too! GOD. Me, too.
It took me ages to decide how to go about this because I had soooo many ideas but I hope you like it!
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✨set during the Miami GP weekend 2022✨
Everybody wants you, but I don’t like a gold rush
Max glances down at his watch. 17 minutes. 17 minutes you’ve been standing in the gallery area of the garage, fanning yourself with a magazine - with Max’s face on the front of it, no less - in the Miami heat, talking to some freakishly tall guy in a Louis Vuitton denim jacket and aviator sunglasses. He’s so painfully American that Max wonders what you even have to talk about for…eighteen minutes.
You tighten your high ponytail while Paul Bunyon talks, his mouth wide with every word. Max studies your face for any sign that you’re bored. He’s bored of watching this, but he knows from experience that not looking isn’t a real option. You haven’t looked over at him once in those eighteen minutes, in fact you haven’t even been distracted by the mechanics moving around or the noise of drilling and clattering tools.
This guy must be really fucking interesting.
You smile at something Captain America says and Max feels his jaw clenched so hard he thinks a tooth is going to crack.
It’s like he’s thirteen again, watching you stand in the middle of the makeshift paddock at the karting track, swarmed by every one of his competitors, their parents packing up their stuff as they vie for your attention. He was the only one who stayed away, following his dad’s instructions on how to properly dismantle and store things while sneaking glimpses at the show you were running. He would win every race and still go home feeling like a loser.
It’s different now, of course. He doesn’t take your gregarious nature so personally now, and he can admit he understands what men see in you now, even if he doesn’t feel it. But he’d be lying if he said it doesn’t trigger something in him to see the way men react to you. It might irritate him less if you enjoyed it, but you’ve long since grown out of that. Now, you expect it so much that you ignore it, and Max has no choice to but to notice it, the same way you’d notice a rusty knife embedded in your side.
“You’re not listening to me, are you?” GP says, which snaps Max out of his calculations.
“I’m listening,” Max says, fiddling with the brim of his cap. “Drive fast, win race, I got it,”
GP frowns at his dismissive tone, and Max makes a point of looking at his water bottle, lest GP realise what actually had his attention. “Max, you need to focus. What are you even-“ It’s the sound of your laugh - high pitched over the deep bass of the music - that makes GP look across the garage. His features twist in disapproval as he turns back to Max. “You’ve got to be kidding me,”
Max looks down at his shoes, moving his foot as he inspects them. “What?”
Above him, GP groans. “I’m not going to say anything about the situation as a whole, because it’s waste of my time. But specifically now, she’s right there, she’s not going anywhere. Can we please just go through this once and then you can carry on staring?”
Max rolls his eyes, steeling his face as a cameraman enters the garage. He’s wearing a Red Bull shirt so Max doesn’t mind too much, but he can’t be captured looking as morose as he feels. The cameraman pans past him and onto you and the guest. Max watches you cringe as the guy throws up some hand sign to the camera, clearly at home with the media attention.
“Who even is that?” Max asks, unable to hide his rancour. He’s probably going to be forced to take a picture with Popeye later.
“I don’t know, some American football player?” GP says with a shrug, giving Max a helpless look. GP couldn’t give less of a shit about the celebrity guests touted around the gargae, and normally Max is his ally. “Are we done?”
Max nods, but not even a second later he’s looking again. It gets worse the more you talk, he can see this guy becoming more enchanted by the second. He wonders what kind of steroids they take in American sports leagues because the meathead is acting like a dog in heat. He leans towards you at an angle that is wholly unnecessary, his eyes fixated on your mouth, nodding too emphatically at everything you say.
“My God, why doesn’t he just lick her face,” Max says incredulously, more to himself than anything.
“Max,” GP sighs.
“Come on,” Max implores with a scoff, stopping himself from outright gesturing in your direction. “Look at him. That’s embarrassing,”
GP fixes Max with a deadpan expression. “Right, but you being sulky and jealous is the height of cool?”
“I’m not jealous.”
And he isn’t. Because Joe DiMaggio over there doesn’t have anything he wants. He’s not going to waste time being jealous of a guy getting half an hour with you when he has cats, and a home, and a life with you.
Finally, you look in his direction, but only because GP calls your name. “Can you come here?”
You give GP a thumbs up and excuse yourself, trotting over to Max without a second thought. Wannabe Tom Brady brazenly enjoys the view, and Max swears he hasn’t been that close to punching someone since Monza last year.
“What’s up?” You ask, slotting yourself between the two men as you lean back against the shelf.
GP hands you his phone. “Beat this Candy Crush level for me, would you? Been stuck for days,”
You look at him skeptically, but years of being filmed up close by cameras on the pit wall have given GP a hell of a poker face; he just stares back at you, and you give up with a huff.
“Men are hopeless,” you say with a roll of your eyes.
“Couldn’t agree more,” GP says, his eyes pointedly on Max, who can’t even defend himself.
Desperate to avoid GP’s scrutiny, he glances over at the gallery, only to find the Yank looking at him. Well, not him, you. He’s got that curious expression as he assesses you fiddling with GP’s phone, one that says he’s trying to understand if he has something to be worried about. He doesn’t. You’re not his to worry about.
“Here,” Max says, pulling off his cap. You barely look up at him before he puts his cap firmly on your head, holding it steady with one hand while pulling your ponytail through the hole at the back with the other.
The brim of the hat obscures half your face, and Max turns so that half your body is shielded by his, which he tells himself is in case a camera comes by.
“It’s sunny,” Max shrugs in his own defence, when he notices you looking at him with a raised eyebrow.
You adjust the cap on your head but don’t take it off. “Why don’t you just give me your letterman jacket?”
“My what?”
“Never mind,” you chuckle, shaking your head at him as you pat his chest with an indulgent smile.
He takes the opportunity at the sound of a large wheel gun to glance over at the gallery, only to meet the eyes of the guy you were talking to. Now that you’re no longer next to him, Max does sort of recognise him. He plays for some team named after an animal. Max just looks at him - he’ll do this all day if he has to - until the guy shoves his hands in his pockets and pulls out his phone, starting to tap away. Yeah, go back to Raya.
Good riddance, Max thinks to himself as he turns back to you, only to find that you already looking at him. He wonders for how long.
He can tell by your smirk that he’s been caught. If he’s honest with himself you caught him five years ago, this was just one of the few moments he let you know it. And you know it. How could you not know?
He thinks for a second that you’re going to tease him, but you don’t. You shift on your feet so that some of your weight rests against his arm, and go back to playing on GP’s phone.
“Go on, GP,” he says, fighting a smile at the large number 1 on the brim of what is now your hat.
He knows from the way GP is looking at him that he’ll get an earful about this later, but right now, he just clears his throat.
“Right, so,”
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empresskylo · 9 months
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cod men headcanons in an age gap relationship?
i have such a thing for age gaps...i blame society. also, i’m only including ghost, price, and alejandro because the other men are too young imo. ik some of their ages are debatable, so in my mind, ghost is at least 30.
Ghost
♡ honestly, i don't think my guy really gives a shit if there is an age difference between you two. like his morals are all skewed, and the last thing he'd waste time worrying about would be a *legal* age gap.
♡ being younger than him would just make his nicknames for you that much more adorable. he likes to add the words 'little' and 'tiny' in front of a lot of the things he calls you. "little mouse" "little dove" "tiny girl/boy"
♡ regardless of how much experience you have (with relationships, sex, etc) he will always act like he knows more than you. he can find himself treating you like you’re so innocent and new to everything--even if you do the same line of work as him, i.e. killing people. and it can definitely annoy you.
♡ it doesn’t matter how many people you’ve been with or how many people you’ve killed; no matter what, he knows more than you. and honestly, even tho it can annoy you sometimes, him being so dominant is just super hot.
♡ “simon, i know how to do it” you whined, as he wrapped his arms around you, showing you how to properly use a sniper. you were used to so many other guns, but not snipers. “mhm,” he mocked, stepping away from you. when you shot the gun, you missed your target by quite a few feet. your cheeks warmed and you hesitated before looking back at simon. his arms were crossed over his chest as he eyed you. you could tell he had a smug smile plastered across his face under his mask. he did not need his ego inflated any more than it already was.
Price
♡ price was definitely concerned when he first realized he had feelings for you. he knew you were of age, but that didn't stop the odd feeling he got when he was around you--like he was taking advantage of you.
♡ and his way of flirting was to act like your father… he thought he was being nice, showing you how to do stuff, always having your back. but my god was he appalled when you were frustrated with him one day after he keep hounding you about something.
♡ “Ok, dad! i get it!” “what did you just call me?” You heard the anger in his tone. shit, you were getting too comfortable around your captain, you should not have teased him like that. “S-sorry, captain. I didn’t mean—“ He cut you off, clearly agitated for a different reason than you being smart with him. “is that how you view me, doll? like a father?” if you said yes, price would know he needed to back off. he could take a hint. “No… I… You just wouldn’t get off my back. I was just trying to be funny.” You felt so embarrassed as you explained yourself. Price got into your space and grabbed your chin in his hand, titling your head up to look at him. you gulped. “you wanna call me endearments? go ahead. but don’t ever call me that again.” he looked at you a moment longer before turning away. suddenly fueled with adrenaline, you called after him. “what about daddy?” Price spun around quicker than you could register before he was pushing you backward, his hand tight in your hair as he yanked your head back to look up at him again with a gasp. “fuckin’ brat,” he muttered, a sly smile crossing his lips.
♡ as much as price truly does not care about your sexual history, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on a bit knowing how much more innocent you were than him. you could have slept with a bunch of people for all he cared, but knowing you were that much younger than him, he knew he had more experience than you regardless. and something about that sparked a flame in his chest. he had a thing for wanting to show you the ropes.. but he definitely felt guilty about thinking that way. he wouldn’t have been any less attracted to you knowing you slept with a hundred other people. he knew you being “innocent” shouldn’t turn him on. but it did…
♡ he is very possessive of you. doesn’t like the idea of other men thinking they have a chance with you. but he can get a bit self-conscious whenever a younger man approaches you or checks you out. “you really wanna be with an old man like me?” he’d ask. as confident as he is, in the beginning of your relationship, being so much older than you made him second guess himself. shouldn’t you want to be with someone your own age? “jesus, price. you’re only 37. you act like you’re knocking on hell's door.” he’d start tickling you for your bratty remark, but it definitely placated some of his nerves.
♡ and since he has more experience dating wise, he’d say “i love you” pretty early on. he’s not dating you thinking it’s some fling. he’s serious about you. and he’s lived long enough to know when he’s in love. and he’s not afraid to say it.
♡ you were saying goodbye to price as he went off on a mission. he’d only be gone a few days, but you’d hate every minute of it. he kissed you, his mustache tickling your lip. “i love you,” he murmured when he pulled away. he smirked as he appraised your stunned face. and he’d turn and leave before you had a chance to process his words, knowing you wouldn’t be able to get them out of your head the whole time he was gone.
Alejandro
♡ definitely feels bad at first, like he’s taking advantage of you. he reminds you all the time to tell him if you’re uncomfortable. that you can say no. he just doesn’t want you to feel used.
♡ as he gets more confident in the way you want him, he starts to use it against you. same as ghost, he mocks you as if you’re so innocent and inexperienced. “see, this is what they call a—“ “Yes, Ale. I know. I’m the one who showed you that.” resulting in a cheeky wink from him.
♡ during training, he embarrassed you in front of the others. when you messed up a move, he made a big deal showing you how to execute it properly even though you’ve been in the army for years now and knew how to do it in your sleep. he liked to see the way you’d get flustered with all the other guys around as he teased you.
♡ he definitely exudes a dominant side and it definitely comes out around you. he wants to do everything for you. wants to carry shit that’s too heavy for you. he wants to be your ride. the first person you call when you need help. he wants to be your everything.
♡ he also acts a little more dominant in bed than he would if he was with someone his age. something about you looking up at him with your sweet little doe-eyes sparked a dominating need within him. he takes control. he leads. he tells you what to do. he barks out commands. he punishes you for being bratty. he takes control in every sense of the word. The only time you can really hold anything over him is when he’s getting close to finishing. you’ll be able to get him to say whatever you want him to, his mind lost in a haze, wanting nothing more than to find the release you’re about to give him. “Please,” he begged. you smiled as you hovered above him. you sank back down on him and continued your motions, and he quickly climaxed. his hands squeezed your hips as he groaned. “fuckin’ perfect.”
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