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#I only do small drawings for very close friends out of the goodness of my heart
starshideurfics · 2 days
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Thirsty Thursday - Family Video
steddie, omegaverse, mdni 🔞
Eddie’s putzing around in the horror section at Family Video when the bell over the door jingles. He glances without thinking, shocked to see Robin Buckley lead Steve Harrington inside.
He’s nosy, wants to know what the hell is up with that. But he also doesn’t want to attract Keith’s attention. Eddie’s taking his time to hang in the A/C as long as possible, nearly an hour already.
Not that Buckley is capable of being quiet, so he hears plenty.
How they’re job hunting and how Robin probably knows more about film than Keith does. How Steve Fuckin’ Harrington likes Return of the Jedi! Even if he can’t remember the title and calls ewoks teddy bears. 
Color Eddie surprised.
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Add in Steve’s bright, colorblocked outfit and his swoopy hair, the way he absolutely takes out the Fast Times promotional standee and hurries to fix it, resume in his mouth like an enthusiastic labrador retriever.
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Embarrassingly, Eddie realizes he’s been pumping out his campfire and marshmallow scent, too charmed to lock down his sudden interest, subconsciously trying to draw in the stupidly endearing omega.
He figures he should go before he actually catches any attention, dipping around the counter and out the door, but not before he hears Buckley and Harrington get hired on the spot.
It’s easy enough for Eddie to memorize Steve’s schedule, only going to rent movies while he’s working. Sometimes he drags the guys with him, or maybe just Jeff, giving more cover to surreptitiously stare at the moles on Steve’s neck.
“You aren’t being nearly as sneaky as you think,” Jeff mutters on more than one occasion . “Just go talk to him.”
“Can’t.” Eddie keeps Jeff between himself and the counter, eyes on the slasher movies like he’s agonizing over his decision.
“Why not?”
“Cuz I’ll say something stupid like, ‘Please, sit on my face, I wanna drown in your pussy.’ That’s why,” Eddie whispers, risking a glance towards Steve.
“What? Seriously!”
“Have you seen what a mess he is now? And add in that apple pie scent—my mouth is watering and my dick is—”
“Christ! I’m sorry I asked. But I still think you should talk to him.” Jeff turns his attention to the shelf in front of them. “Nightmare on Elm Street?” he asks, reaching for the case.
“Yeah…” Then Eddie stares as Jeff brings the tape up to the counter, his best friend effortlessly making small talk and laughing as he rents the movie. Like a coward, Eddie hurries out of the video store, waiting for Jeff in his van.
When Eddie goes to return the tape the next day, he’s surprised when Steve looks at Robin and says, “I’m going on my break,” even as he accepts the tape from Eddie, their fingers brushing.
“Yeah, whatever,” Robin answers, flipping through a magazine.
Broad fingers wrap around Eddie’s wrist and drag him back to the Family Video break room past the “Employees Only” sign.
Steve smiles at him as he closes the door behind them. “Sorry. Just got tired of waiting for you to make a move.”
“What?” Eddie has never known Steve Harrington to be the kind of omega who waits for an alpha.
“You aren’t doing a very good job of controlling your scent.”
Eddie gulps, cheeks heating.
“And your friend said you were super into me, which… Yeah, definitely picked up on that.”
Nodding, Eddie waits for his tongue to untie, pretty sure he’s gonna die first when Steve steps closer, presses his hand to Eddie’s chest. “You surprised me,” he manages to say.
“Sorry about that.” Steve doesn’t look sorry at all as he leans in, sniffs at Eddie’s neck. “I’m too used to Robin, bad at personal space with pack.”
“Not what I meant—the ewoks—I mean. Shit. Wait.” Eddie closes his eyes, Steve’s scent filling his nose and making him warm. He smells safe. Familiar.
“Yes?” Steve murmurs, hand moving up to touch the skin above the collar of Eddie’s shirt.
“Not pack, what do you mean bad at personal space with pack?”
“Can tell you should be pack.” He nuzzles at Eddie’s cheek and whispers, “Want to be your pack.”
Eddie gives into his instincts then, whining and holding Steve’s face still, bringing their mouths together. He has no idea what he’s doing, but Steve clearly does as he gentles the kiss, grinning as he pulls away.
“My shift ends at seven. Meet me at my place at seven-thirty.”
Eddie nods. “Uh-huh, yep, whatever you say.”
Steve glances up at the clock. “But we’ve still got six minutes before my break ends, and you need to practice,” he teases, pulling Eddie back in for another kiss.
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puppyeared · 1 month
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Atla live action 😐
#thats my honest reaction 😐#to be fair ive only seen 20 minutes of the s1 finale bc my parents are watching it but. mmmmm kinda mid#like. the casting is definitely an improvement since the last time they tried a live action but it feels like the writing falls flat#or maybe im being harsh bc ive only heard negative criticism on it beforehand. but fr anytime u bring up the original its already#good and not just because its the original. so much fucking detail went into it to the point of someone noticing azula wielding mai's knive#to how well thought out irohs character is used as a way of uniting the cast especially as zukos foil#i heard that sokkas sexism was toned down and i have to agree that feels like a cheap move. like i get WHY they think it would be better#but its not about how that reflects on real world its about how it affects the story. sokka starts out as a misogynistic asshole because#it makes it that much more impactful when he changes. toning that down makes it flatter and makes his character development weak#and someone pointed out they didnt even make him wear the kyoshi warrior uniform and i know it feels like such a small detail but#come on man. they did that in the original because not only does it help him really walk in their shoes - wearing 'feminine' clothing and#makeup and having suki explain its significance but it also ties in with the shows theme of harmony and intersectionality#i was also disappointed when they had the fire sages explain how the water tribe draws power from the moon because in the original it was#IROH who explained it to aang and everyone else BECAUSE we as the audience is under the impression hes with the 'bad guys'#and it builds up to how he learned from the other nations which reconciles his past as a war general and his character overall#AND its an excellent starting point for the cast and audience to understand how the nations arent as closed off as you would think#plus you would think its only fire nation doing propaganda but they expanded on that with earth kingdom censorship and it WORKS#a lot of things in the live action also feel arbitrary like. they gave momo a near death experience for 5 minutes for no reason#im firmly on the stance of bringing back filler moments instead of putting major events right after each other so that u give your#audience a sense of time passing and to really absorb the story. but i think thats more like shock value than filler and yeah its a small#thing to gripe about but those things build up and its really annoying. the thing abt avatar filler moments is that however small#its at least meaningful. hell even the beach episode emphasizes how isolated zuko and his friends are as child soldiers#i also swore to never watch the first live action since it was that bad but i really liked the stylized tattoos they used for aang#anyway. those arejust my thoughts. im not gonna watch the rest because im a ride or die for the original aftr growing up and#rewatching it at least 20 times as a kid. but theres definitely room for improvement and i wish ppl wouldnt take it as 'better' just cuz#netflix is adapting it. i wouldve killed for them to just reanimate the entire avatar series and touch NOTHING ELSE no redub#no changes to the story. just reanimate the thing and leave the rest alone and youd make easy money just the same#ALSO its very jarring not hearing jack desena and dante basco voicing sokka and zuko cause their voices were the most recognizable to me#i get that its because its live action but im allowed to feel a little sad abt that. and uncle irohs accent was really soothing#yapping
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tasteleeknow · 3 months
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LIVING IN THE RUINS
minho x fem!reader. 2k words. minors dni. best friends to lovers. soft!minho. angst. fluff. jealousy. emotional hurt/comfort. smut with feelings, in a tent.
“Excuse me?”
You blink at the stranger in front of you. She seems to materialise before your eyes. You’d zoned out again and missed the attention your best friend had clearly been receiving from strangers in the crowded room. “I was wondering if I could get your number?” she asks, eyes fixed on Minho’s. She blinks quickly a few times, her long dark lashes fluttering much like your heart in your chest. 
She hasn’t looked at you once despite your close proximity. You’re so close to the object of her attention in fact, your thigh brushes against Minho’s jeans under the table. 
He shifts beside you, sitting up straighter in the booth. “Oh,” he says, clearly taken off guard as well. “Thank you. I mean that’s — I don’t—” 
“Do you have a girlfriend?” she asks with a small tilt of her head. 
“No,” Minho answers quickly, incapable of lying. His discomfort radiates off him. You’d spent years learning his emotional tells. “I mean—” 
“He’s not into women,” you interrupt, finally drawing her attention to you. She blinks before her eyes drop down to your chest and back to your eyes, like she’s completely taken aback by your presence. It’s impossible, you know that logically. Still, she puts on a good performance. “Sorry,” you add. 
Her lips curve into an unconvincing smile. “No worries,” she says. “The hot ones never are.” 
The whole exchange is as short as it is ordinary. How many tipsy girls work up the courage to ask the pretty man across the bar for his number? You would bet money on it happening multiple times over somewhere across the planet at any given moment. It’s normal. Mundane. Still, you know it’ll chip a little more of your carefully built wall away. A chisel to stone, slow and steady. The only problem is that it’s been chipped at for years. You can feel the fragility of it these days, each chisel etch feels alot like when you’re down to the end of a game of jenga. 
Any move now will cause it to crash and fall. 
She hadn’t considered for a moment you might have been together — not when she’d spotted him across the room, clearly with you — and not when she’d gotten close and blatantly ignored your comfortable proximity to each other. Her question about his relationship status had been an afterthought, a possibility she hadn’t considered until faced with a response other than ‘yes’. She’d been expecting a yes.
The thought that he might be with you, might be attracted to you, was unconsidered. You wonder if she’d discussed it with her friends. ‘No,’ they might have said. ‘There’s no way he’s with her.’
Minho is quiet as the petite brunette turns on her heels and disappears back into the mass of people. His red ears give his embarrassment away. 
You nudge his shoulder, rocking him out of his trance. “Hey,” you prod. “Alright?” 
The smile he offers you is a little lopsided — very Minho. “Always,” he says. 
Your annual camping trip is just like the year before. Your small group of friends sets up camp in your usual spot. Everyone climbs into their usual tents. Everyone assumes you and Minho will be sharing, as always. 
You’re not sure why it hurts so much. They assume that nothing would ever happen between you. None of the other girls share a tent with a guy they aren’t dating. You’re the exception. Because Minho would never want you. 
He notices your low mood later that night. The group separates in the dark to play flashlight tag and as you find yourself wandering a secluded patch of the campsite, you know he knows. His attention is on you instead of where he’s walking. You almost scream when he falls into apparent nothingness. 
“I’m fine,” he quickly reassures you, pulling himself up from the ground. “Just dropped my glasses.” 
“God, you scared me.” 
It takes you both at least ten minutes to find them, relying purely on touch alone. It's too dark to see much at all without a light and using your phones would give your position away. 
You’re grateful for the darkness when you reach up and place his frames gently on his face. It hides the heat in your cheeks when you brush chocolate brown hair behind his ears, ensuring you’ve placed them properly. 
“Thank you,” he whispers, close enough that his breath warms your lips. 
You’re also grateful just to be near him, you realise. Just to know him. You love him. 
You love him. 
It’s an earth shattering realisation to have while playing flashlight tag in the middle of nowhere. You need to escape. You can’t. You’re sharing a tent with him. 
The situation isn’t helped when later in the night one of the girls with big bright eyes and a gentle smile makes a very clear move on him. You were used to it. People loved him. 
You loved him. 
It’s a stupid thing to cause the wall to finally crumble. It’s humiliating really. But when he laughs at something she whispers in his ear: it happens. 
It falls. 
You’re pathetic without it. 
All you can do is hide from him, escape to the tent and pretend to be so tired you’ve fallen asleep before he can investigate. It’s not something you do. Not with Minho. He knows you so well hiding from him is just as stupid as it is pathetic. He’ll know. 
Still, you can pretend. He won’t know as long as you’re unconscious. You can put it off until morning. 
It takes a long time for him to fall asleep. You lie there staring at the canvas of the tent for what feels like hours, the sounds of him tossing and turning continuing for so long you almost give up. 
But then he’s still. His breathing seems to even out. He’s asleep. 
That’s when you let yourself cry. Quietly at first; silent aching sobs. 
What a time for the wall to crumble. You wonder if you have the energy to rebuild. You’ll have to find it. The alternative is letting Minho go entirely, removing him from your life and letting the ruins erode away over a long, long time. 
Not an option. 
“Hey,” Minho’s soft voice calls. Shit. You wipe clumsily at your eyes and sodden cheeks. “Hey, what’s going on? What happened?” he questions as his palm rests gently against your shoulder. 
You should face him. You can’t hide. You know it. 
“No-thing,” you whimper, breath catching between each syllable. It’s that awful breathless kind of sobbing, the type that leaves you unable to inhale fully, let alone speak. 
He rolls you over onto your back. He isn’t rough — but it’s with enough strength you’re completely unable to resist him. 
“What is it?” he says again, tone much more forceful now. He isn’t letting it go. He looks down at you with wide eyes, like he’d never been asleep at all. 
You shake your head. 
His gentle thumbs move to your cheeks to attempt to wipe away the mess you’d left behind. He rests on one arm, leaning over you so he can give each cheek the same treatment. It’s a curious instinct, to wipe away someone's tears — like it has any effect on the person’s pain at all. It’s the best we can often do, you suppose. 
“Just focus on breathing,” he says. “Just breathe.” His hand stays against your cheek, fingers resting on your neck by your ear — featherlight. 
Breathing is easy, in theory. Breathing. Breathing. Breathing. His lips part to join you, guide you. His lips are still a little red from his bedtime routine, his tinted vaseline usually lasting him the entire night. 
“That’s it,” he soothes when you finally manage a few steady breaths in a row. “That’s good. You’re okay.” 
They’re simple words of comfort. The kind of thing anyone would say to a person in distress, but they settle something in your chest. You were okay. He was yours in a way that was more than nothing. He cared in a way that felt so genuine it was hard to be dissatisfied with the nature of it at all. 
“Did something happen today?” he asks, still leaning over you. It’s a vulnerable position to be in. It mirrors how you know this conversation will go. Your wall is a crumbled mess. You have no defences against him. 
“Not really.” 
His eyebrows pull together. 
“Nothing worth this,” you clarify. 
“Tell me.” 
“It’s not… It’s embarrassing.” 
His lips curve in a tiny lopsided smile, just a hint of amusement. “Friends are for sharing embarrassing things with. And I’m your friend,” he says. “Aren’t I?” 
You blink quickly a few times, desperate to keep your tears at bay. Then you nod weakly. 
“Why do you look so miserable about it?” he says, tone light and teasing. 
Your lips wobble a little as you struggle with the words attempting to burst forth. They pound and burn and demand to be set free. You lose the battle. “I love you.” 
He blinks, eyes flicking across your face. 
The gates are open now. You’re turned loose. “I love you so much,” you sob. “It hurts. It hurts everyday and it just keeps getting worse and I can’t—” 
His lips cut you off, a warm, heart-stopping, and very much welcome interruption. He’s kissing you. He’s—
“Stop,” he mumbles against your wet, salty lips. “Stop hurting. Please.” His next kiss is unbearably soft, a brush against your upper lip. “Please,” he whispers. 
You nod dumbly.
He rewards you with a collection of gentle kisses across your cheeks, replacing the remnants of your tears with the sticky wetness of his moisturised lips. You imagine the slight red marks he must leave behind. 
He settles over you properly at some point. You’re too distracted by the path of his lips to notice exactly when. But then his arms are by your head, caging you under him in a way that makes you hope for the universe to halt all progression forward. This was enough; everything. 
“I love you,” he whispers against your lips finally. “I’m… sorry for letting you think I don’t. I’m a coward.” 
“No,” you chastise quickly as you tangle your fingers in his hair. “Don’t say shit like that.” 
“I—” 
“It hurts me… and you told me to stop hurting.” 
His head drops to your neck… then, with a soft press of his lips to your skin, “Then I’ll never do it again.” 
Every move he makes is gentle when the slow, indulgent kisses turn into exploring hands and whispered pleas for more. Each of his whisper-soft words of affection sweeps away a crumbled section of your wall, clearing the space to build something entirely new. He’s warm, so warm as his bare torso rests on yours — as he finally presses inside you and sucks a mark into your neck to join the rest he’s left. “Doesn’t hurt?” he asks, stilling as he fills you completely. 
“No,” you gasp. “No, you’re… it’s—” His lips take the words from your mouth, a little messier than he’s been before. When his hips roll into yours you can’t help grasping at him like he might suddenly get up and leave — fingers tangling in his hair desperately.
“I got you,” he mumbles against your lips, heavy breaths mingling with your own. “I got you…” 
When he eventually spills inside you, flooding you with more of his warmth, you’re crying again. But this time it doesn’t hurt; this time it’s a release. The tears that he kisses from your face afterwards — they wash away the rest of the rubble.
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bby-deerling · 13 days
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law + gossip
masterlist || commissions
tagging: @willowbelle @queenmimi2817 @fanaticsnail @eelnoise @kaizokuniichan @mirillua @atanukileaf
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having been with law for a very long time, it was only natural that you would keep secrets for him; some were serious, and others... not so much, with the silliest of these secrets being that law loves to gossip with you.
he justifies it as a side effect of being the captain—he simply wants to be informed on everything that goes on aboard the polar tang. and his point was defensible, to an extent, until one considers the fact that law knows nearly every single detail about bepo's tiny spats with hakugan as they drive the submarine together, penguin's unfortunate love life, and he could write out a comprehensive timeline of shachi and ikkaku's tumultuous, years long on-again-off-again relationship with his eyes closed. maybe he enjoys the tiny tingles of schadenfreude coursing beneath his skin, or is simply curious about what his friends do when they think no one else is looking, but whatever the reason, it's relaxing to talk his ear off—and you've got an interesting piece of information for him today.
"you busy?" you ask law, as you step into his office, a small smirk on your face as you close his door. he's poring over some messily drawn maps of the region that bepo has cobbled together, but he shakes his head, mumbles out a no, and waves you over, craving some soothing company while he works. flopping down into the armchair across from his desk, you can barely contain your giggles, eager to relay the details of shachi and ikkaku's argument from this afternoon.
"shachi's in trouble again." you inform him. law's head snaps up from the map on his desk to meet your gaze, his full attention resting in the palm of your hand.
"things were going too well. what did he do this time?" law asks, leaning forward and resting his chin on top of his folded hands. a few chuckles escape his lips as you tell him, in colorful detail, how ikkaku had overheard shachi and penguin making some distasteful comments about wanting to catch a glimpse of the women of amazon lily—their argument had started over her accusing him of not respecting women, but snowballed into her criticizing his tendency to let his eyes wander.
"what'd he say to that?" law pries curiously, holding his opinion until you finish relaying the entire story as per usual, though the smirk that creeps across your face tells him that you're about to get to the good part.
"he said—and i quote—'why does it matter who i look at? you're not my girlfriend.'" you say, drinking up every bit of law's incredulous reaction with amusement spread across your face.
law pulls in air through his teeth as he lets out a disappointed sigh; the two of you had been rooting for them to finally get together for real this time, and it had seemed like things were so close to coming to fruition. "tch, he's such an idiot. so we're back to square one then?" he asks, a smidge dismayed.
"for now. you know how it is with them." you reply indifferently; the status of their relationship changed like the phases of the moon, and you knew that the push and pull of the tide would draw them back together at some point.
and, stable as the warm, bright sun rising in the east, you and law would sit back, content to watch them ebb and flow.
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thepersonnamedsam · 5 months
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she got this - op81
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pairing: oscar piastri x academic!girlfriend
summary: oscar visits his girlfriends bachelor thesis defending
word count: 1.3k
face claim: phoebe bridgers
warnings: a swear word, some angst - mentions of a panic attack
note: this is for my baby @lissyontour, you got this, pls wish her good luck for today <3
oh and it’s my first oscar fic, hihi, enjoy it
and there is some of the bachelor thesis… i had to include some of it, thanks to chat gpt
masterlist / taglist
Fuck, was she nervous. Her head was spinning and her legs were jelly - no, scratch that - her legs were liquid.
Her eyes were trying to focus on something, just something that would help her back to reality. She knew she was somewhere else right now, somewhere where she shouldn’t be.
Why wasn’t Oscar with her? Why was she alone? This was not how she planned it!
Her heart was beating, she felt it nearly pop out of her chest. It almost hurt. Oscar should’ve been here with her, but a last minute meeting with Zak just threw her plans overboard.
Her breath quickend and her hands searched for the only safe thing she could think of, her phone. Her fingers quickly glided over the screen and Oscars answer made her hold her breath for a second.
Standing in front of the auditorium, the heavy red doors made her uneasy. It’s gonna be time soon.
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Oscar had to hold himself back not to text her that he was actually sitting in the front row and waiting for her to enter the room. He knew it was cruel. But he just had to do it.
He was so much more nervous than her. He watched her write that bachelor thesis for over six months now. At every race she was sitting in his drivers room with at least ten books and her laptop. Only just for the last five laps she came out of the room to watch him race.
He appreciated her coming, she could’ve just stayed at home and studied, but she always came with. Multitasking her way through her studies. And he was so proud of her. There was no way he would miss her final step of the way.
And he knew his cruelty was all worth it, as she stepped into the room and her eyes spotted his. Her whole face lit up and he could almost spot some tears of relief.
„What are you doing here?“, she mouthed. A small smile on her lips. „Supporting you“, he mouthed back, matching her smile.
„Welcome Ms y/l/n!“, her professor welcomed her. „I am exited to hear you defend your bachelor thesis about; How Greek Mythology influenced modern literature.“
She smiled at her favourite teacher and took out her thesis. She closed her eyes for a second, breathed in and out again. She was ready. Oscar knew she studied English literature and oh did that make her sexy.
But he had no idea of Greek Mythology or modern literature by any means. Yes, he read her thesis at least twice, but did his brain understand anything she meant? It did not. Being the smart one was all her job.
„Welcome Professor McAllister, dear colleagues, guests and friends. I hereby welcome you dearly to my defending of my bachelor thesis: How Greek Mythology influenced modern literature.“
Oscar listened intently and always smiled when she looked at him for reassurance. His heart was swelling with proudness. He soon had a girlfriend with a bachelor degree.
„In the vast tapestry of literary evolution, Greek mythology stands as an enduring thread, weaving its timeless narratives into the very fabric of modern literature. As contemporary authors navigate the labyrinth of inspiration, they find themselves entwined with the rich tapestry of gods, heroes, and mythical creatures that originated in ancient Greece.
The resurgence of interest in Greek mythology can be traced to its profound impact on archetypal storytelling. From the lofty heights of Mount Olympus to the depths of the Underworld, these tales resonate with universal themes that transcend temporal and cultural boundaries. Authors draw from the exploits of Zeus, the sagas of heroes like Achilles, and the tragedies of figures like Oedipus to explore complex facets of human nature. The gods' capriciousness mirrors the unpredictable forces that shape our destinies, while the struggles of mortals against divine intervention echo the perennial human quest for agency in the face of cosmic uncertainty.
Prominent literary figures, from James Joyce to J.K. Rowling, have paid homage to Greek mythology, infusing their works with echoes of ancient narratives. The hero's journey, a concept rooted in the mythic structure of heroes like Perseus and Hercules, serves as a narrative template for protagonists in contemporary novels. These echoes are not mere nostalgic nods; they represent a perennial dialogue between past and present, a dialogue in which timeless themes find new expression.
Moreover, the enduring allure of Greek mythology lies in its malleability. Authors wield the myths as allegorical tools to explore issues ranging from power dynamics and hubris to the nuances of morality. The Hydra of Lerna becomes a metaphor for societal challenges that sprout anew when seemingly eradicated, and the labyrinthine trials of Theseus mirror the complexities of modern ethical dilemmas.
In essence, the enduring influence of Greek mythology on modern literature is a testament to the universality of its themes and the perennial resonance of its characters. As authors continue to delve into the wellspring of ancient tales, they discover not relics of a bygone era, but rather a living reservoir of inspiration that fuels the imagination of generations, perpetuating the eternal dance between the ancient and the contemporary.“
Her voice angelic as it could be, drew in people who never even heard of the topic. You didn’t have to be interested in Greek Mythology to listen to her thesis, because she delivered her speech that even Oscar understood and left him wanting to know more about it.
My god was he proud. He was in awe, his beautiful girlfriend standing up there, speaking about her passion and delivering it in a way he never thought she could.
Even the look on Professor McAllister made him proud. She looked at his girlfriend with a proud smile, nodding along with her and reassuring her. She was gonna ace this.
Oscar was snapped out of it when the whole auditorium clapped. She was standing with the biggest smile on that stage. Oscar just had to get a picture of her. His new wallpaper.
„Thank you, Ms y/l/n. This was magnificent! We‘ll just discuss real quick and we‘ll be back with your grade. You can be proud of yourself, Ms y/l/n“, Professor McAllister told the young woman on stage.
And as soon as they left the room, she squealed and ran to Oscar. He opened his arms and let the girl spring into his embrace. „Hi“, he whispered. „Hi“, she whispered back. „I thought you weren’t coming?“
He laughed, a real deep belly laugh. „I had to surprise you!“ She hit his shoulder and said: „I hate you, but I’m glad you came.“
„You did so well, my love. I am so proud of you! We have to celebrate afterwards, anything you want.“
The time together was cut short, when the door opened again and the four professors walked in again. „Ms y/l/n, please, have a seat“, her professor said and pointed to the chair sat in front of the four.
She nervously walked over to them and smiled at them. „No need to be nervous, you did well, you can be proud of yourself.“
They talked stuff Oscar didn’t understand. But when he saw a big smile form on her face, he knew she received the best grade she could’ve. Proud, that’s the only word that came to Oscar’s mind.
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„I love the boys“, she told Oscar. He smiled up at her and said: „I know you do, but only I can celebrate with you today.“ She giggled and would’ve almost kicked her feet, if it weren’t for the others in the room.
Professor McAllister handed y/n her diploma and told her they’d see each other at official ceremony. After that, Oscar and his girlfriend almost sprinted out of the auditorium.
oscarpiastri
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liked by yninsta, landonorris and 82‘729 others
oscarpiastri how did we get from that to this?
view all 22‘219 comments
yninsta the first one is NOT me, idk where you got this from
user1 weren’t we all at that point during our studies?
user2 yes, yes we were
yninsta glad i wasn’t alone…
oscarpiastri so it was you
yninsta oop-
landonorris congrats, y/n! when we gonna get a lecture about greek mythology from you?
yninsta any day you want
landonorris now?
oscarpiastri no, now she’s busy with me
landonorris ewww, my eyes are scarred, don’t ever come back to the mclaren garage
oscarpiastri i didn’t mean it that way
yninsta he did
landonorris you’re just kids
user3 we love an academic wag
user4 so proud of you, y/n!
mclaren congratulations, y/n, next podium is for you 🍾
yninsta thank you, admin
yninsta thank you, baby
oscarpiastri i am so proud of you, darling
loganseargant i cannot believe i have a friend with a bachelors degree…
yninsta better believe it, american boy
user4 do u even know what a bachelors degree is..?
user5 american slander, we love it
alex_albon we are all proud, y/n
user6 we really are
yninsta thank you all so much, i love you guys so much
georgerussel63 oh no, she’s getting sentimental, let’s stop here guys
°°°
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gurugirl · 5 months
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The Ex | ex!harry
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Summary: Harry's your ex-lover and you see him at a wedding after many years apart. You're both married but Harry proposes something that you have a hard time saying no to.
A/n: This will have a jucier, alternative ending but you'll only find it on Patreon! I consider this Tumblr version to be what happens in 'real life'. Enjoy!
Word Count: 3435
Warning: 18+ only, mentions of smut, emotional cheating, angst
You had no way of knowing he’d be there. But then again, he also had no clue that you would be there either.
You spotted one another right away. It was as if by magic something had drawn your eyes to his. He was already casting his gaze toward you, those soft green eyes taking you in as he held the hand of the woman to his right.
Your heart skipped a beat and looking at him again after all those years felt like there hadn’t been a day that aged him. He looked just as youthful and vibrant and handsome as ever. Dark curls placed carefully on top of his head in a flattering style, broad shoulders, a slender waist, and nicely fitted pants showing off what you remember being very sturdy and masculine thighs.
“Oh! Here are our seats!” Your husband, Les, spoke from your side and pulled at your hand, drawing your attention back to where it belonged.
You shook yourself of the direction your thoughts had been headed just before. What good did it do to remember how things were once upon a time? When you were young and in college, no kids or a career… things had been so different back then. And seeing your ex, the man you thought you’d marry, the one you thought would be by your side until you grew old and ugly…
“Are you okay, babe?” Les asked you with concern on his face.
“I’m fine… yeah! Just looking around and seeing a bunch of old faces. People I haven’t seen in years.”
You were at a friend’s wedding. Someone you, by some miracle, had stayed in touch with since high school. You had grown apart from Seria over the years but she still invited you to her wedding and you couldn’t imagine missing it even though you had to find an overnight sitter for your two kids and drive five hours to a different state to attend. Something told you it would be worth it.
You turned slowly to glance around the room again, your wine glass in hand and caught his eye again. The woman he was seated next to was as lovely as she was when you first met. You remembered her. She was in your senior graduating class. An acquaintance. Someone that Harry had grown close to but that you hadn’t gotten to know all that well. At first, her presence didn’t threaten you. But after you all graduated she and Harry became inseparable and he slowly began spending less time with you and more time with her. They had a lot in common, as you recall. They were both music majors, they’d write music together and play at bars in tiny scraped-together bands occasionally.
You found out on accident about how serious he was about her. No one thought you didn’t know.
You had visited a mutual friend’s apartment and stopped in for tea and a little chat. Sarah had a whiteboard hung up on her front door, facing the inside. People would write on it. Doodle pictures, scrawl their names in different colors, or just leave funny messages.
You didn’t take note of the whiteboard at first but when you sat down on Sarah’s couch you looked up at it and saw what had been written in black with red hearts all around.
harry + ginny = really good stuff
It took you a moment to let it all sink in after you saw that. You and Sarah made small talk but you couldn’t stop thinking about what was written on the whiteboard. And the hearts all around it told you it meant more than just something friendly. So you had to interrupt and ask, “Is that… my Harry?” You already knew the answer.
Sarah followed your gaze to the whiteboard and she let out a small gasp, “Oh! I forgot that was there. Are you okay about all this? I know it’s still fresh. You and Harry were together for years.”
“Am I okay about what? What’s fresh?” You began to feel yourself tremble and your heart was racing. You were suddenly having a hard time taking in any new information because it all came crashing down on you at that very moment. The reality of what was going on. You were the last to know about Harry and Ginny. He hadn’t even had the balls to break it off with you first.
You hardly remember leaving Sarah’s apartment after she told you that they’d been dating, and from what she said, rather openly. No one had bothered to talk to you about it. Everyone just assumed you knew.
Of course, you went directly to Harry’s apartment and found Ginny there already. They hadn’t been doing anything bad when you barged in. Ginny was on his couch with a notebook in hand and Harry was on the floor with a guitar in his arms.
He looked up at you from his spot on the floor and it’s like you blacked out. You can’t quite recall what was said but in the end, he wound up telling you the truth. That he’d fallen in love with Ginny and he was going to tell you soon but that he didn’t know how because he didn’t want to hurt you.
After that, you still saw Harry. He was part of your friend group and so it was inevitable that you’d run into him from time to time. After a couple of years, things were fine between you two and you’d met Les. You’d both moved on. Things had changed. And then you moved away with Les and you got pregnant, twice, and now six years later, here you were again looking at the man who once was your everything. He’d broken your heart but you were both so young and dumb back then that it was all but forgotten.
The past was the past, but you could still feel that small clench in your heart at how things had ended with Harry.
More drinks were drunk, snacks were served, and dancing commenced… the night was fun. Les was hilarious. He was an awful dancer but he insisted on taking you to the floor with him. You both laughed and swayed to the music in the crowded spot in the hall designated for dancing.
And as much fun as you were having you couldn’t stop thinking about or catching glimpses of Harry. It appeared he couldn’t get you off his mind either. It was rather flattering in a way. To have him looking at you from across the room. The subtle smiles and nods. You felt really good about keeping your distance, though. Even though at the very end of everything, you and Harry were on good terms and had been friendly, it had been so long. Too long. You felt there was no use in having a chat. Nothing good would come of it. You’d grown apart. Lives took separate paths. Old exes at a wedding had no good reason to catch up when you’d likely never see one another ever again. It was easier to stay away. Better for everyone.
Les ordered another round of whatever he’d been drinking and suddenly wasn’t feeling so hot. You both sat at your table with a couple of the other guests who were still there. Many were dropping like flies, as tends to happen at weddings. Luckily the hotel was connected to the reception hall so getting Les to your room was not that difficult.
You knew you should have stayed with him. Just called it a night and tucked in for your early morning back home to pick up your children. But against your better judgment, you decided on just one more drink.
The band was still playing, slower music than when you’d left. Most of the tables were empty as people mingled and danced slowly. You sat at the bar and searched the room for Harry. You figured he and Ginny had gone to their room, or back home depending on how far away they lived from the venue. It was nearly midnight. The band would wrap up in a half hour and that would be that.
You sighed and turned back to face the bar and sipped your last glass of wine of the night. You’d said your hellos to everyone you wanted to. Except Harry. Deep down you really did want to say hi to him but you knew better. There was something that was telling you to keep your distance and you were glad for it. Maybe it was subconscious or perhaps there were still feelings there after all this time. You knew the truth. But you weren’t ready to admit any of that to yourself.
“Hi, Sunshine.”
You felt a wave of heat and excitement thrum through your bones. It was him. He used to call you Sunshine. Sunny. Used to sing You Are My Sunshine to you every day.
You turned to see Harry taking the chair next to you at the bar, “Hi, Harry.”
You took him in. All of his handsome face. Those pink lips you used to nibble, the nose you used to smush yours into for wispy nose-tip kisses. His intense gaze was just as it had been all those years before. You wanted to reach your fingers out and stretch them over his jawline and feel the stubble on the pads of your fingers. He was so grown up. So unchanged and yet more mature. More handsome in some ways.
He drew his arm along the back of your chair and leaned in close as he spoke to you as if you two were a couple. As if nothing had ever come between you nearly 8 years prior, “You are more beautiful than I even remember, Sunny. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about you at least once.”
You hadn’t expected him to let that be his leading comment. The first thing spoken to you in so long. But Harry didn’t follow conventions or rules. He never had. So it shouldn’t have surprised you that his first comment to you was how he thought about you every day. You wondered if that was true. Because there were days you thought about Harry still too. It wasn’t every single day. Some days he didn’t cross your mind at all. But of course, you did often think of him.
“I doubt that, Harry. You’re still big on flattery, I see,” you smiled shyly and peeled your eyes away from his to sip your wine.
When his thigh brushed into yours you could smell his cologne. It was different than what he wore in college. It was more grown up. Smelled expensive. Smelled more like something Harry should wear, “I wrote a song about you not too long ago. Ginny doesn’t know, but it brought back a lot of old memories.”
His voice was soft and deep and the timbre traveled from your ear down to your neck and your bare shoulder. You swallowed thickly and dared to turn to look at him again, knowing he was too close. Knowing what this would look like if anyone were to see you two.
“Where is Ginny?”
Harry’s small grin widened and his eyes sparkled as he looked down at your lips and shook his head, “In our room. She was tired. Just like I imagine Les is in yours.”
You blinked and looked away. You were flying too close to the sun, you knew it. This was dangerous territory and Harry was orchestrating something very wrong. Something you’d only regret. But you weren’t doing anything to stop it. Maybe curiosity had you sticking around. Maybe it was for old time’s sake. Or maybe it was just that you missed him and missed this and missed the way things had been.
You didn’t know how to respond but your body was on fire. Harry’s warm leg was pressed into yours and his large frame practically had you caged in. You loved it.
“Look at me, Sunshine,” he whispered as he softly touched your chin and nudged your face toward his, “There we go. Remember that time we loaded up my old Bronco and drove straight through to San Francisco? Thought we were gonna find an apartment and live like hippies in the big city and just write and paint and make music and that’s how we’d make all our money?”
You laughed and nodded, “I do. But instead, your Bronco broke down in Oakland at 3 am and we had to stay the night in the back of your car and get a tow back home.”
Harry laughed through his nose as he nodded his head, eyes still pinned to yours, “Wish it would have worked out between us. I miss all the fun we used to have. Me and you.”
You opened your mouth to respond but you were stuck. He was laying it on thick. He was never one to beat around the bush. He hadn’t changed. It was part of what drew people to him. His magnetism. His confidence.
“Don’t you miss it, Sunny?” He brushed his knuckle over your wrist and you inhaled sharply. Just the smallest touch had you spiraling. You would have to fight your way out of his trance if you intended on not allowing this to go any further.
You shook your head and looked down at your lap, “I don’t know, Harry.”
“We’d stay up all night making love until the sun came up. Miss classes. Skip out on parties we promised people we’d go to. Just in our own world all the time. It never got boring with you. For years we were like that. It’s never been like that with anyone else. All that passion we had, Sunny. My Sunshine girl. Never.”
You sighed and… yes. You did recall all that passion. And it was true. For nearly four years you and Harry were insatiable. It was like every day was your first date. Your first time. Like you were still getting to know one another after all those years. Sex had never been better. Harry was your best by far. You didn’t like to compare anyone to him but that’s only because it made you miss him. Made you miss the way you felt. Missed that lust and that passion and the vulnerability.
“I know you know what I mean,” Harry slid his hand down to your thigh discretely. No one in the room could see but you knew he was touching you in a way you hadn’t felt in so long. In a way that was only reserved for your husband. Felt that familiar, big palm spread over the expanse of your soft thigh, his thumb lightly grazing the bottom hem of your dress.
“Harry…” you breathed his name in warning.
“My Sunshine, girl,” he spoke the pet name back to you without an ounce of teasing. He was perfectly clear in what he wanted. And even though he hadn’t said it outright, there was no denying it.
“I’m married.” You reasoned weakly as you let your gaze rove his features and drop to his plush lips.
“So am I.” He squeezed your thigh and your limbs were on fire. You didn’t know how to escape the moment. You didn’t know if you wanted to. He was “the one who got away”. Even though everything hurt when it happened and he’d done you wrong, you’d long ago forgiven him and now it was just two old lovers feeling that same heat and desire they once felt. Some things from the past could be forgotten. But the way things felt between you, that constant spark, the wild lust every single day for all those years would never be forgotten.
You still dreamed about him. Would wake up hot and panting and roll over to see Les fast asleep with his face tucked into his pillow and you’d close your eyes and remember the time… Remember his voice and his hands and the way he made you feel. How free and exciting life was with Harry.
And it was all coming back to you in an insane, surreal, mind-bending rush. Everything about him was the same as it was before you graduated college. Before he fell for Ginny. Before you two grew apart and you got married and moved away. You could almost taste the skin on his hips near his laurel tattoos. Could smell the scent of his sex mixed with yours. Could hear the laughs and the moans and neighbors beating on the wall telling you to keep it down. Could feel the way you loved him once upon a time, the way he loved you so deeply it scared you. Loved you so much you never could imagine that he’d ever love another.
“You’ve lost your fucking mind,” you whispered with a grin.
He shook his head, “I’ve never been more clear-headed in my life.”
You licked your lips and closed your eyes. Every time you thought you’d wake up from the dream you felt him move against you, felt his fingers on your skin and you were continuously dropped down into your seat at the bar at your friend’s wedding with your ex at your side and his words snaking into your ears.
The only thought that kept you grounded was knowing that there was nowhere for him to take you that was private. Because that had already, obviously, crossed your mind. To have another taste. One last time just for old-time’s sake. But it seemed impossible. It seemed ridiculous to even entertain. And yet there you were.
“Remember that small room with the table and chair on the second floor of the library we used to go to? Had a lock,” Harry’s warm hand stayed on your thigh as he spoke.
You did remember that. You found a room in the 2nd-floor corridor that connected to a small hallway off the library. The hallway had four doors. They were all locked but one of them just so happened to unlock if you lifted the knob upward and jiggled it just right. The room was bare of furniture except a small wooden table pushed against the wall and a fabric swivel chair with wheels. Both of which you learned to make good use of. It wasn’t hard to find a use for random surfaces with Harry back then.
Nodding and squinting your eyes at the man you spoke, “Of course I do.”
“I want to get you alone in a room again,” he lowered his voice and leaned in so that his voice was close and the front of his shoulder was pressed into the back of yours, “Just one more time. Something just for you and me, Sunny. I miss you.”
You couldn’t believe the way he’d gotten you worked up in almost no time. The way you still reacted to him and the need crawling up your spine made you dizzy.
“There’s no place to go here, Harry. No free room. We can’t anyway… you know we can’t,” you looked at his face and held your breath. You couldn’t do this. It was wrong.
“We can find something. A hidden spot where no one will ever know.”
You looked away from his fierce gaze and down at your glass. You swallowed thickly and shook your head as you reluctantly pulled yourself from his side and stepped off the stool, “Harry. We can’t. I have kids. My husband is… I love him. I don’t love you anymore. I could never forgive myself.”
He clenched his jaw as he nodded, “No one would know.” He looked at you with pleading eyes. You could tell he knew this wasn’t going to happen.
“I would know,” you dropped some cash on the bar and looked back at Harry as you squeezed his shoulder, “But it does feel good to know that you regret replacing me with someone else even after all this time.”
As you walked away you took a deep breath and smiled to yourself. You could have said yes. Could have found yourself in some room or bathroom stall with him getting exactly what you knew he could deliver. But you didn’t regret saying no. You didn’t regret walking away from him. It felt good to have the upper hand. Something you had no idea that you’d had all along. The man who you thought you’d lost really turned out to be the man who’d lost you.
Find the other version with the alternative ending here on my Patreon!
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tommydarlings · 24 days
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eyes on me | d.r
pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader
warnings: possessive behaviour
w/c: 0.7k
summary: daniel is a very jealous and possessive boyfriend, and he’s not afraid to show that.
check this out: my masterlist <3 // my ko-fi to support me! <3 // my PayPal to support me! <3 // my Patreon to become a member! (get access to +65 works) // Save a Life carrd made by me! <3
You were so unimaginably close to rolling your eyes as you felt Daniel’s hand squeezing your waist, fingers digging almost uncomfortably into your skin.
Daniel still didn’t removed the smug grin from his face though, there and then even showing his infamous teeth a bit as he looked at Joshua… your friend.
Friend. Nothing more. But Daniel was not even close to being convinced.
You cleared your throat, looking at Joshua with a kind smile as Daniel only pulled your closer to him, eyes not leaving your friends figure,
“And you’ve said that you’re here in Australia now for work?” You asked curiously, forcing a nod out of Joshua,
“Yes, I had an important meeting yesterday and now I’m just enjoying my last day here, you know? How you’re doing here in Australia since you moved here, already met some scary, humongous spiders?“ he giggled teasingly, remembering how much you hated those disgusting animals.
You sighed with a small grin, “oh please stop,” shaking your head as you softly placed your hand on top of Daniel’s, trying to loosen his immensely tight grip on your dress a bit,
“I’ve already seen enough of those, and I bet that the one I saw last night won’t be the last one I will encounter,” you giggled, almost hissing as your boyfriends fingers buried themselves slightly painfully into your flesh.
Daniel slowly turned his head, giving the side of your head a quick peck before he whispered into your ear, “If we don’t leave right now, I will dig my fingers so far in that soft skin of yours until I’m drawing just the slightest bit of blood, sweetheart,” he kissed your temple, not even bothering looking at you now, “I would never genuinely hurt you and you know that, right?”
You gulped and quickly nodded.
“Good,” he whispered in a deep tone, “but if pain is the only way to make you understand that you’re only mine and nobody else’s, then I’m not afraid to cross some boundaries here, you understand me?”
Joshua was by now — very much to your luck — looking to be busy with his phone, barely minding the two of you. You swallowed down a high-pitched gasp before you looked up at the Australien driver,
“You wouldn’t do that,” you shook your head, making Daniel’s smirk widen, “You wouldn’t do it, she says,” he mocked you with a laugh, looking wholeheartedly from the outside, but being nothing else than cruel from the inside.
You bit your inner cheek and licked your lips, eyes wandering around the room,
“Eyes on me, don’t look at the man over there or the young gentleman to the left of us,” Daniel shook his head at you, quickly grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at him.
You really didn’t wanted to, but you obeyed and looked up at him, “perfect, just like that, baby,” he slowly nodded, “keep your eyes on me, not on any other man in this goddamn building,” Daniel gulped,
“Hell, not on any other man on this goddamn planet,” he smiled wickedly again, thumb caressing your chin in a soft manner, suprising you, “eyes. on. me.”
With slightly teary eyes you look up at Daniel, nervously biting your bottom lip before he speaks up again, “What are we gonna do now, hmm?” He asked with an evil grin.
You gulped, “W-We're going home, d-daniel.”
He slowly nodded, thumb still caressing your skin before he leaned forward and kissed your forehead, then your cheek and then your soft lips.
“That’s my good girl, now c‘mon,” he took you by the hand and walked with you towards his car.
With your high heels it was quite hard to keep up with his pace but you tried your best as you followed him like a little puppy.
You jumped a bit as he suddenly put his palm onto your lower back, pushing your towards him, “You like the attention, don’t you? You like it when you have all different kinds of man staring at you like that, huh?” He whispered behind you before he kissed the back of your head.
You smirked and bit your lip, “what? Nooo, daniel… I definitely do not like the attention,” you rolled your eyes in a mocking manner,
“Why do you think that?” You turned to him but he swiftly turned your head back around and walked even quicker to his car.
But the second you heard Daniel’s familiar chuckle behind your rushing figure, your smile fell.
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luveline · 5 months
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bodyguard!james taking care of a sick girl who's just tired and in dire need of touch (not at all self-indulgent, love you angel!!)
“Is this part of the job description?” 
James can barely understand your mumbling. He helps you up another step, then the last, his arm behind your back to keep you steady. “Absolutely. If I let you walk up the stairs all by yourself you would have fallen.” He slows now you're on the landing, checking over your waxy face with concern. “Almost there, shortcake.” 
“M'not short.”
Whether you are or you aren't isn't the point. “You're short to me, and you're sweet. Hence, shortcake.” The hallway to your room is long and wide, a luxurious arrangement, but eventually it comes to and end, and the door to your suite beckons. “Okay, here we are. Good job, sweetheart, you made it all the way here.” 
“Don't patronise me.” 
He pretends he doesn't hear you. It isn't hard, you're barely talking, your face lolled to one side, the collar of your stiff shirt digging into your neck. 
James pretty much carries you to the small platform that houses your bed, pulling the sheets back and encouraging you to sit. You collapse immediately downward, missing all your pillows, your breath coming in shallow pants. Your stuffy nose is stressing you out and the stairs were hard for you. 
He kneels down by your legs where they hang over the edge and rubs your knee. “Alright,” he says gently. “I'll take your shoes off.” 
“Don't have to.” 
“Don't be silly. Can't have you sleeping in your clothes.”
“‘Cos you're such gentleman,” you whisper dazedly. 
He peeks up to find you've turned your face into your sheets. You draw lazy shapes with a trembling hand over the stretch of them, somewhere else. 
James unties your laces and pulls your shoes off. He kisses your knee, only stopping to think maybe he shouldn't have when he stands and your shuttered eyes have widened. He turns still as a statue, waiting for the reprimand, the (more than allowed) demand that he leave you be, but your eyes soften again and you smile at him like he's hung the moon in front of you. You're amazed. 
“Poor girl, you're very poorly, aren't you?” he asks. 
“I'm quite warm.” 
He offers his hand. When you nod, he presses the back of it to your forehead and feels downward. You're as warm as you say, not worryingly so but uncomfortably for sure. James turns his hand, holds his palm flat to your hairline. 
“If I leave you your pyjamas, can you change by yourself?” 
“No.” You fluster at your own answer. “I–I don't think so. But I can sleep fine, I'll just take off my trousers.” 
You can barely string a sentence together, words running together, syllables missing as your voice grows hoarse. James will figure something out, he decides, stroking near the edge of your forehead fondly. “No pyjamas, then. You'll be okay while I get you a cold flannel?” 
“M'fine.” 
James pushes his hands under you and manhandles you into a more regular position, a soft pillow firmly under your head, your princess sheets plump to the touch. “C'mere,” he says under his breath, moving to the collar of your shirt, “let me get that for you.” 
“Thank you.” 
He pops one button, a second, working his fingers under the collar to push it away from your throat. You're silent beside the struggle of breath, your nose whistling with each one. 
He's struck with wanting to be more. More than your guard, and more than your friend. He'd like to take care of you intimately, crawl into bed next to you and hold you, rub your back, just keep you company while you're in pain. But he can't do any of that, and as soon as you're comfortable, he'll be back at the door. Waiting for you, like he always is. 
“I'm sorry you're not feeling well,” he says. 
“I feel much better now, all your touching,” you assure him, your eyes closing of their own accord. “Just… tired…” 
James gives your cheek a quick hold. He straightens up, squares his stickying smile into a neutral expression, and goes to get that wet flannel for you. All your touching, he thinks, shaking his head. Maybe you'd like it if he crawled into bed with you after all.
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just-jordie-things · 11 months
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ik you literally JUST reblogged this but i was online so 😭 kiss prompt 52 w megumi 🫣🫣 -🌿
YES and ur not the only one it appears i've opened the floodgates for smooches
52: Accidentally Witnessed Kiss
**aged up characters!!** ___
you and megumi are good at hiding your relationship. very good, in fact, you're quite surprised that your nosey friends haven't caught on yet. just last week nobara tried to set you up with a salesman at a boutique you frequented. sure, megumi was a little annoyed by the notion, but you claimed it was only a testament to how well you'd kept your relationship hidden.
and of course hiding it was the right thing to do. your friends, and your sensei, were a pestering group, and you both agreed you didn't need any added stressors in your life. your relationship was yours, and it was meant to be a form of relaxation. after taxing assignments and grueling training sessions, it was comforting to know you could sneak into each other's rooms and hide away in each other's presence, forgetting about the rest of the world as you enjoyed being wrapped up in each other's arms.
it had been nearly six months of this. the sneaking around, the hidden gifts and love letters, the subtle brushes of his knuckles against the back of your hand as you walked side by side but at a safe, platonic distance from one another. you often didn't even sit by one another during movie nights, or shared lunches. you were so damn good at hiding your development out of friendship that your friends didn't even know how well you got along, if at all.
they didn't know that the sound of megumi's giggles when you asked him if he'd love you if you were a worm was the cutest sound in the world to you. they didn't know that megumi had your favorite drink memorized to order it for you. they didn't know you kept a special necklace around your neck at all times, tucked under the collar of your uniform. it's closer to my heart that way, you'd said cheerily when megumi had put it on for you for the first time. they didn't know you were each other's first love, and you very much intended for it to be your only love.
but everything comes to an end at some point, and the secrecy among such a close group of individuals could only last so long.
you were sitting on the counter in the small kitchenette that was a shared space in the hall of dormitories. your laughter was stifled behind your hand as megumi dumped out the leftovers he'd planned on eating for a late night snack. he wasn't as amused as you were, grumbling as he reached into the cabinet to eat cup noodles, yet again.
"i told you that they wouldn't stay good for that long," you scold, although your voice is soft and your eyes hold nothing but adoration. "you should've had them yesterday"
"yesterday was the only day we could go on a proper date with no one wondering where we were," megumi reminds you.
it had been a rare occasion, yuuji and nobara were partnered up for an assignment for the evening, giving you both just enough time to go to dinner and rush back before anyone could notice your absence.
"would you have rathered we stay here instead?" megumi asks, expecting you to pout and admit that going out was worth it.
instead you sit up a little straighter, reaching your arms around his neck to draw him closer to you. sitting on the counter gave you enough of a height advantage that you could be eye to eye with him.
"maybe," you muse thoughtfully, still tugging him close until he's slotted in the space between your legs.
his palms are warm as they rest on your thighs, and he too slides you closer to the edge of the counter in an attempt to draw you near enough that there wasn't a centimeter of space between you both. you smile at the action, nudging your nose against his.
"i do quite like staying in, with you" you hum, lashes fluttering as your eyes travel from his lips up to his own hooded gaze. he's smiling rather lazily at you, amused by the sudden affection.
normally he'd banter with you a bit more, just enough to tease and annoy you, before giving into what you so obviously really wanted.
but it was almost two in the morning now, there was no chance of anyone being around at this hour, and your hands were just so warm at the nape of his neck that he craved the rest of your warmth.
so his executive decision to give in completely, closing the small space left between your lips and sealing them with a kiss that had you humming in delight. he could feel you smiling in your victory.
the microwave is beeping with his finished noodles, but you're both far too melted into one another to care about the ringing sound by that point. your hands are too busy messing up his hair, carding through the soft locks until their nearly falling flat from how much you teased them. his own hands are having a hard time staying firmly on your hips, as the hem of your shirt moves and your warm skin is literally right at his finger tips. his movements are calculated as he carefully works his palms over your skin. somehow his hands are hot to the touch and yet leave goosebumps in their wake as they slide from your hips, to the small of your back, to your hips again. his fingers are splayed out wide, wanting to feel as much of you as he could.
you're lost in time, lost in him, you have no idea how long it's been since he'd started kissing you, and you don't know how long it'll be until one of you realize you should probably stop, but you push the thought away. why you'd ever stop kissing megumi, you don't know.
but the answer provides itself in the sound of plastic clattering to the linoleum floor.
your lips are off each other with an exaggerated smack, but no other noise fills the room as you and megumi turn your heads to the sound, only to find yuuji standing in the entryway of the kitchenette. his eyes are unblinking, and wide, and there's a plastic spider-man cup rolling on the ground at his feet.
unfortunately, your shared shock leaves you so frozen, that there's no chance of explaining yourselves to the pink haired boy. megumi's hands are still clearly under your shirt, while your hands are in loose fists in his hair. both of your mouths are swollen, hanging open slightly, both to say something that wasn't coming to mind, and also to pant for air seeing as you'd been rather... occupied.
would he believe you if you said friends just make out sometimes? probably not.
"you- you're-" yuuji raises a shaky, pointing at you both to gesture to what he didn't know how to explain.
he felt like he just walked in on santa claus placing gifts under the christmas tree. or seen bigfoot dash between trees. or caught nobara's roots growing in. this was such an unbelievable sight, his brain was hardly processing.
"you're kissing!" it finally comes out, so loud it stirs you and megumi out of your compromising position.
he quickly removes his hands from under your shirt, tugging down the hem for good measure, and you're scooting back on the countertop to put as much space between you both as you could. anxiously, megumi's running his hands through his hair to make it look as untouched as possible. it was all in vain, your nervous movements to make it seem like yuuji hadn't caught anything, because he most certainly had.
"we- we were just-" you start, but look to megumi for help.
"yeah- we- i mean- nothing- well-" he tries to help you finish an excuse but you're both gaping at each other and shaking your heads, not knowing what you could say to make yuuji forget what he saw.
megumi sighs.
you give your friend a wince of a smile.
"any chance you won't tell everyone?"
yuuji simply shakes his head, his expression unwavering.
didn't think so, you thought.
"no one will believe you" megumi tries, but yuuji shrugs.
"i dunno. you have a hickey" yuuji replies, calmly, as though in a state of shock.
megumi's hand smacks over his neck before he's turning to glare at you. however, realizing there was no coming back from this, you burst into a fit of giggles, much to his dismay.
"a hickey?" he hisses in annoyance. "what are you, fifteen?"
"what!? you liked it!" you say through your giggles.
with your mini argument taking place, yuuji had plenty of time to race off towards the dorms to wake up nobara first. then they would certainly call their sensei to deliver the news. ___
xoxo ~ jordie
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tommysversion · 1 year
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That’s My Girl - [ Joel Miller x Reader 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ ]
Anon requested jealous, possessive Joel with a filthy mouth, so here you are! General CW for spice, unsafe sex, Joel with a filthy mouth, & a slightly red flag possessive streak.
Joel slammed the door behind you, expression mutinously annoyed as he crossed his arms and turned to you.
“What the fuck was that back there?” He demanded.
You had to resist the urge to smirk; if you weren’t so annoyed yourself, you’d feel smug about pissing him off. Joel liked to pretend he didn’t give a rat’s ass about you, but it was obvious that you were more than… whatever he thought you were. A quick fuck. Something casual. There was nothing casual about the way he’d grabbed your hand and practically dragged you out of the bar.
“What was what?” You asked sweetly, enjoying the way his eyes darkened.
“You know damn well what.” He glared, “letting that random fucking informant buy you drinks.”
“Maybe I like free booze?” You suggested, innocent. Oh, you knew exactly what you were doing.
“Not enough to let someone like that put their hands on you, surely?”
Your own temper flared. “What’s it to you, Joel? I’m not your goddamn property. Besides, you can’t lecture me on exclusivity when-“
You stopped, still angry, still hurt, by what you had seen. By what had driven you to provoke him, to try and draw out his jealous side in blatant vengeance.
“When what?” He demanded, exasperated. Honestly he had no damn clue what had possibly driven you to act the way you had, flirting with anyone and everyone. You were his, dammit. Nobody else should be able to hold your attention. Nobody else was worthy of it.
You were so angry at the memory, you wanted to cry.
“When I show up at your place looking for you and Tess answers the door wearing your fucking shirt and says you’re busy.” You snapped, glaring at him. “You don’t get to demand I don’t look for attention elsewhere when you’re clearly more than happy to fuck both of us.”
He stared at you. He hadn’t been home at the time, had been at work. He knew which shirt you were referring to, though. It was an old one he’d given her on a laundry day, almost a year ago.
“That… is not what’s happening here.” He said flatly.
“No? You think I’m stupid?” You demanded. Honestly if he wasn’t so worried about fixing this, wasn’t so pissed about you letting that fucking rat touch you, he’d almost find this funny.
“I haven’t been with Tess like that for… Fuck, almost five years.” He shook his head, “that shirt was too small for me, I handed it down on a laundry day when she had nothing clean. And I was at work, by the way.”
You cut your building tirade, mouth open but nothing coming out, feeling monumentally stupid.
“Oh.” You manage, knowing full well how lame you sound.
“Yeah, oh.” He frowned at you, “you know better than to let her rile you up.”
He was already making a note of talking to Tess, though. He’d have a few choice words for her, that was for damn sure. But that wasn’t his focus.
“Now we’ve cleared that up, you wanna tell me again why you were getting so cosy with our good friend the local rat, there?” He backed you right up against the wall, one arm on either side of you, effectively trapping you there.
“I-“ You had absolutely no good answer for him.
“I’m gonna take a guess,” he suggested, “that you thought it would be a good idea to piss me off, by acting like a complete slut.”
“No, I-“
“No? You weren’t? Cause that’s not what it looked like to me, baby.”
You could feel the heat coming from him; in a very short sentence: you’d fucked up. Big time.
“I just-“
“I don’t care what your damn reason was, honestly. But I have a suggestion for you.” He was leaning in close now, mouth so close to yours. You leaned in, wanting so badly to kiss him. He turned his head at the last minute.
“You want to put that mouth to use? Get on your knees and show me.”
Fuck, he was mad. You were only starting to realise just how far you’d pushed him now, but there was no going back, and no hiding the thrill you were getting from it as you dropped to your knees to obey him, hands going to his belt.
“Not making a case for yourself here, are you darlin’?” There was a sort of wry amusement to his voice as you unzipped his jeans, wrapped your hand around his already hard length.
He kept one hand on the wall, the other reaching down to stroke your hair.
“Be a good girl now and I might be less mad.”
You looked up at him, staring into those depthless dark eyes, as you leaned in to lick a slow stripe along his cock, watching his reaction before you took him into your mouth. You didn’t hold back, sucking him eagerly.
“This what you were gonna do to that other bastard? Or am I special?” He was taunting you, he knew deep down you’d never have let anyone else touch you, but fuck, he was angry about it. You were his. His. Nobody else got to touch you. Even thinking about it made him see red.
You, of course, couldn’t answer, mouth otherwise occupied as he started to thrust shallowly into your throat. He groaned softly when you sucked him, swallowing around him. He knew exactly what you were doing, pulled out of your mouth and tapped you sharply on the lips with his cock.
“Not yet. Get up.”
You got up, a little shaky, only to find yourself pinned against the wall, your dress being pushed up around your hips.
“Tell me, is this what you’d let anyone else do to you?”
“N-no,” you admitted, voice shaking with a little fear, a lot of desire.
“No? Are you sure?” His lips grazed your throat, teeth nipping the skin.
“I’m sure…” you were absolutely soaked; you could feel your own wetness drenching your panties as he dragged them aside, wrapped your leg around his waist.
“Good.” He almost growled it, “you’re mine.”
He slid into you in a single, deep, rough thrust, drawing a cry of surprised pleasure from your lips.
“I don’t give a damn if you want to be a whore, as long as it’s only for me.” He kept one hand wrapped around you to steady you, keeping you braced against the wall with his other hand as he fucked you, harder and faster with each deep thrust.
“Fuck-“ you whimpered, tightening your leg around his waist, bringing him in deeper.
“None of that.” He slapped your ass sharply, “talk to me, baby, use your words. Tell me who you belong to.”
He was barely thinking straight himself, driven by a deep and primal feeling of jealousy, rage, and possessiveness. You brought out the best in him, but that was a double edged sword. You could also bring out the worst, when needed.
Luckily, you understood, knew how to play him.
“You, Joel,” you cried out as he hit your sweet spot, again and again, “I’m yours, I promise!”
Your cries faded into incoherence, loud and desperate sounds of pleasure as he brought you closer and closer, finally reaching the apex of your pleasure, tightening around him, soaking every inch of him that was buried inside you.
“That’s goddamn right,” he agreed, pressing a searing kiss to your mouth, “you’re all mine, darlin’, don’t ever forget that.”
He could feel his own pace start to get erratic as he drew closer and closer to his own release, incoherent growls and groans falling from his lips.
“Fuck, darlin’, you feel so fuckin’ good, prettiest damn pussy I ever felt, gonna fill you up so good…” he punctuated each word with a sharp snap of his hips, “gonna make you forget anyone else you ever had… fuck…”
He couldn’t control it any longer, feeling himself throb and ache inside you as he filled you with his release; usually he was so careful about pulling out of you, but well… accidents happen. And if that accident so happened to keep you around and with him? All the better for it.
“Mine, darling. You’re all mine.” He murmured into your ear, holding you close.
You sighed, kissed his throat.
“I’m sorry…” you admitted; you’d pushed him too far, and you knew it.
He gave you a small smirk. “Don’t be sorry, baby. You more than made up for it.” He paused, and then, “just don’t do that shit again.”
You smiled back, rested your forehead against his.
“I won’t. Promise.”
He kissed your lips gently. “That’s my girl.”
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ddeonuswhre · 2 months
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤTo my 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 fan.
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤRicky × M!reader.
Summary: You and Quan have been dating since a few months after he debuted, and you decided to surprise him by going to one of his fansing.
Genre: fluff, curses (few), lovers, a lot of affection.
Author's note: This will be a unique chapter, + it was a request from days ago, It's a little short, but I hope you like it! ♥︎
words: +500.
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"Please continue to love and support us!" Said one of the boys who was one more member away from Ricky and clearly everyone knew who you were. You were very nervous because you didn't know what his reaction would be, however your heart calmed down a little after seeing the next member, it was JiWoong, he immediately smiled at you and took your hands to caress them a little, you both had a very good talk, after all he was your closest friend outside of the Idol-Fan role.
On the other hand, Ricky would have heard your voice and made him nervous, it didn't take that long for him to start looking for you with his eyes and come across the scene that you were quite close to your friend, JiWoong, he became a little jealous now. It was impossible not to see the two of you beyond the fact that you were laughing almost out loud. You were practically very close to him, just a few meters away. A short time passed and you were already in front of your boyfriend, everything felt so strange, but you knew how to handle it and you took out a small gift from your small bag.
"T-take it, it's a little drawing I made for you, on the back there are some words that I always wanted to say to you" You said with a smile on your face, the boy would have purposely brushed his hands against yours and whispered to you in Chinese:—"I love you a lot, my love".— to which you responded in the same way, and now he was the one who took your hands firmly after having kept the letter in his pants pocket. Sadly, time was about to end, and he decided to sign the album you had on the table. Inside it, he left a small letter along with several hearts around it. After a couple of smiles before the staff let you know that you were finally done, you went back to your seat and enjoyed the last hour where they did nothing more than read some letters and dance to songs from other groups.
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You had finally arrived home, somewhat tired from the posture you were doing for no more than 10 minutes between each member, however you were happy to have seen Ricky so happy. You were inside your little bubble until someone rang the doorbell of your apartment, you quickly got out of bed and went to the door, you noticed that it was the same boy who made you feel like you were in heaven. You didn't hesitate to open the door and also receive a big hug for him.
"I read the letter you gave me, you don't know how much I wanted to hug you and kiss you at that moment" Quan said after separating slightly from you, this to leave a small kiss on your lips. You smiled naively and began to leave several kisses on his face, which made him smile and let a soft laugh come out of his lips. "We're in a pretty private place, I think we can stop pretending that I'm just a fan who admires everything you do." You closed the door that was behind the tallest boy and broke away from the hug to take his hand. You turned around and started heading towards the sofa.
And so you two spent a fairly quiet night, you did nothing but kiss, compliment each other on how they looked at the meeting, hug each other and many other things. Finally, you both fell completely asleep, and you only got up for a short period to tell the boy that they should go to the room. "Baby, come on, it will be more comfortable in bed." Ricky nodded and took your hand to head to your room.
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blingblong55 · 10 months
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Sweet Nothing- Rodolfo Parra (includes Philip Graves)
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Based on a request:
Look, as much as I love Philip Graves, he gives off jackass bitch energy. So, he leads on the reader (who's just fuckin adorable, wife energy, protect this one for the rest of your life vibes) before leaving them after a one night stand and then they meet again years later and reader changed into a badass boss bitch dommy mommy you'd wanna tap but she's fucking hostile af. Also dating Rudy, cuz Rudy's the only man who deserves to score a pre-Graves reader. Idk, im in my "fuck me up and you're next" era
A/N: Someone said I should use the lyrics of Sweet nothing, so...here it goes
F!Reader, fluff, angst, soldier! reader
I find myself running home to your sweet nothings Outside, they're push and shoving You're in the kitchen humming
7 years ago, a few of your comrades and you had a huge victory. You all went to celebrate out by a local pub. It was fun, the drinks, the stories, laughs, the stupid songs you'd all sing, and then the stupid mistake of letting Graves take you home. You had a crush on him before, how when he smiles he would do so to the side. The way his hair was always well groomed and how his cologne never changed. You noticed his American southern accent, getting rougher when he was drunk like this. The way his hands wandering your thighs or back. So for you it was a dream to even have him offer himself to you.
If you can describe yourself from 7 years ago, you'd call her "sweet, innocent, caring, bubbly, and loving", and all that is true, well was true. The night with Philip was great, the way he assured you all night in bed that he'd take care of you. How his lips met yours, how he kissed you with so much delicateness it felt beautiful. "al'right, sweet thing, just close your eyes and rest now." Your head rested on his chest, his hand drawing small circles on your back. You felt content in his arms.
By morning, instead of waking up to him by your side, it was just you. A note and nothing else.
"That was fun, but just a one time thing:) -take care, Philip Graves"
You never knew it'd be just a one night stand with him, you'd expect more. Back then, you were only a 22 year old, still learning and understanding much of the military. You trusted him with your body that night, a innocent girl, not knowing she'd be robbed from something she held dear to her, her own young heart on a platter, eaten by the man Philip was.
By some miracle, a commander in Mexico had seen your work for Shadow company. Alejandro Vargas, a major at the time of him recruiting you and his friend, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, a captain at the time. Graves let you go, knowing that you'd ask for more and he was not wiling to give. In all honesty, after you left, he talked about his time with you, made fun of you the weeks after it had happened.
After that night with Philip and how he belittled you, even if he didn't know, you promised you'd never let that happen to you. All the men that approached you were quickly turned down. You only gave time to your job, training and to yourself. You treated men like the scum of the earth.
Belittled them if they ever spoke about you. "I'd shut it, because you are nothing more than a worthless, good for nothing piece of ass." All men at some point feared you, not making advances on you, except for one.
Rudy, although rejected by you more than 19 times, always came back. He never cared if you degraded him with your lemon filled words. He loved you for it, loved how you never spoke bad of yourself, standing tall and proud. Alejandro tried to tell him to stop pursuing you, but he is stubborn as he is cute.
With him, you were always more soft. Although at times you'd say mean things to him, you were never too mean. Because in him, you found your old self coming back. Begging to be let out, because all you wanted to do was cuddle with him, listen to his problems, kiss him, adore his very soul.
And to be honest, he worshipped the ground you walk on. He didn't care that he was a higher rank than you, no, he always said. "Yes ma'am", "No, ma'am", "Sorry ma'am", "You look beautiful/perfect, ma'am". In his eyes, you deserved all the shiniest of things this world could offer.
He loved how you would yell at rookies, but the second you saw a puppy, you'd turn all soft and would pet it for a long time. How one time he saw you baking and dancing to a melody in your head. Your puppy eyes when you would see a something adorable.
One night, there you were, ready to hop on your motorcycle when he approached. "R/N, uhm...do you mind if maybe this Sunday me and you can maybe....I dunno, go on a date?"
You see, the reason why he asked you on a Sunday and not on a Friday or Saturday was because he heard you sing a song to yourself.
"I want a Sunday kind of love, A love to last past Saturday night, And I'd like to know it's more than love at first sight, And I want a Sunday kind of love" Your voice soft like a whisper.
"Sunday...time?"
His face lit up, in a way for him, this was you agreeing, "6 am, ma'am." he happily responded. You were confused, why would he want a date on a Sunday at 6 in the goddamn morning?
"I was thinking breakfast by the lakes...maybe you'd like that," he answered as if he was listening to your thoughts, he paused and looked at you, "Or whatever time, all I want is to spend time with you."
A light red hue on your cheeks, there it was. The old you, feeling excited because for the first time in years, you were validated as more than just a 'one time thing', seen by him for you. You nod, "very well-"
"I'll pick you up?"
"I don't see why not."
You put her helmet on, going for the typical night ride. Funny enough, he was the guy who would race you any chance he got. You of course never knew, but he did. Wanted to spend time with you in whatever way he could, so, he learned from Alejandro how to ride one.
During the date, he was so nervous, he completely forgot his Spanish and English. Giggled as he tried to compose himself for you, you took his hand, "Just one work at a time, I promise to listen." the way you said it and carried it, was a different side of you, the old you.
"Eres hermosa, la mas bella." he cups your face, looks you in the eyes and smiles. You'd learn Spanish for him after months of dating, but in this moment, when you barely spoke the language, you understood the meaning. Skin melted on his hands, turning into mush, he leaned in, kissed your forehead and then looked you in the eyes.
"Thank you, for giving me this chance."
Soon after that, you went on more dates, Sunday dates. Always by the lake, eating, laughing and at times, he'd chase you into the water. Both laughing, being the sweetest of creatures.
6 years after that first date, you and him celebrated your engagement, Alejandro being asked to be the best man. While everyone had seen your cold hearted side, he saw you, the woman he'd be waiting for at the end of the isle. His favourite melody, the girl who made him soup, stayed up all night understanding the video game he was enraged by, taking classes to speak to your in-laws in their language. Wearing that sundress and although you weren't religious, attended church with his mum, grandma and him.
4 months after he had proposed to you, thats when you met 141 and Shadow Company. Graves introduced himself, once he spotted you in the room, he stopped, "-any...ways, it's a pleasure to meet y'all." He nodded to himself and walked to where you were. Alejandro ran through the plan.
"You look beautiful, sweet thing-"
You raised a finger to him, "I don't let dogs speak to me." Rudy heard it, chuckled to himself. He was happy, a part of him was always protective of you, wanted to be selfish and have you to him. So knowing you were still like this with other men made him glad. Now that he was on the good side of your actions, he didn't know if you still spoke like that to other men.
Graves was....mad...? He noticed how you changed, how you looked healthier, happier and that stupid fucking diamond ring. He did love how much your body had changed, how your curves become more prominent, your hair longer, the same body he was once all over was...sexier, appealed to his needs for sure.
And then after the meeting, he saw you hand in hand with Rudy. Your cold gaze now soft, you blushing and admiring your boyfriend. Rudy kisses your cheek which caused you to look away blushing. Although you were dating him, it was as if you were a school girl, crushing on a celebrity, gushing over him.
Rudy was always the one, that was clearly known. Graves will now forever hold his peace, as the girl that treated him with love and respect was now with another. You'd be the bride and he would never be the groom who gets to call you his.
His lost was and is clear to be Rudy's gain.
Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more" To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it
Tags: @anonymuslydumb
A/N: checking my inbox and I just realised I have request from back in may....sorry...I'll get to those, I promise
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the-kaedageist · 1 year
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The inn is small and plain, the tables worn from years of patrons and the weight of beer steins. Essek touches his fingertips to the wood and thinks about how far his life has come. “Why are we here?” he asks after a long moment. Caleb looks up from where he had been spacing out, presumably lost in old memories as he glances around the room.
“Oh, ja,” he says, catching himself. “This is where we first met. The Mighty Nein, I mean.”
Essek’s eyes widen. The room takes on new hues, a history he hasn’t been able to read from the furniture and the beer spilt in the corner. He can see the ghosts of younger versions of his friends, set lightly upon this space like a memory - Jester laughing and carving a dick into one of the tables, Beau and Fjord drinking from steins and ribbing one another. Caleb sitting with Veth, who presumably would have been Nott then. Yasha by the bar, perhaps, with the infamous Mollymauk. They had started off with only seven, not having any idea that someday they would be the nine of their strange moniker.
“Ah,” says Essek, not sure how to put all of these impressions into words, especially not in Common. “An auspicious beginning, I see.”
Caleb shares a small grin with him. Essek knows that smile; it usually forecasts some statement that Caleb knows will horrify Essek’s delicate sensibilities, looking forward to how Essek will react.
“Yes, what is it, Caleb Widogast?” Essek asks, trying to keep the answering smile from his own lips and already planning to act as affronted as possible.
“I was covered in mud and shit, you know,” Caleb says conversationally, a gleam in his eye. “When we first met. You would not have come within five feet of me.”
Essek has heard tales of dirty Caleb, and privately been amused at the thought. “I would have Prestidigitated you clean long before you came close enough to be a problem,” he says confidently.
Caleb laughs openly; it’s good to see him comfortable and safe enough to do so. “Perhaps I should fall in the mud and see how cool you would act around me now,” he says with a straight face. His eyes gleam with mischief.
“We shall see then, who is faster on the draw,” says Essek smugly. “My Prestidigitation, or your determination to get dirt upon me first.”
Caleb laughs again and moves to the bar to order them trosts, while Essek sits at the table and waits for the others to arrive. It seems fitting, that Caleb chose this place for their first monthly reunion since Uk’otoa had been vanquished. A new beginning, in a place where a beginning had been forged once before.
Caleb returns, carrying two trosts and wearing a thoughtful smile. “Wishing you had been here to join us from the start?”
Essek is rarely surprised at how well Caleb knows him, these days. This comment still throws him, putting words to a yearning that Essek hadn’t even begun to understand himself. “Had I been here from the start,” Essek says, “the story would have turned out very different.”
Caleb hums and clinks their glasses together, sipping from his trost with a hum. “True,” he acknowledges. “And in the end, you found us assholes anyway.”
The door flies open. Beauregard and Yasha make their way inside, Fjord and Jester hot on their heels. “What did we miss?” Beau demands.
“Hey Trostenwald,” Jester shouts. “We’re back!” She proceeds to cast Thaumaturgy and blow out all the windows in the inn. The innkeeper glares at her in a way that implies she’s not at all surprised by this occurrence.
As the room fills with the shouts and laughter of the Mighty Nein, Essek sits back with a smile.
Yes, indeed. In the end, Essek found them all anyway.
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Text
Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows 3
Warnings: non/dubcon, clashing personalities, exclusion, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
Characters: moody boy Curtis Everett x bubbly, plus-size reader
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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You arrive early with your laptop. The meeting room appears occupied as you wait outside. You don’t knock for fear of interrupting and stand patiently in the hall.
You check your watch, the hot pink casio with the digital face. It’s getting close. You try not to worry too much. The IT tech will no doubt show up and realise what’s going on.
As you begin to build the upcoming meeting as more than it is, the door cracks open and a man pokes his head out. He wear frameless rectangular glasses and his blond hair is spiky and shiny with gel. He smiles as he lets the door fall open.
“Hey, sorry to keep you waiting, you must be our one o’clock,” he says, “I’m Jake.”
You shake his hand and introduce yourself. He welcomes you in as you ponder his words, ‘our’? As you enter, you are faced with the last person you expect. The man’s neutral stare turns to a chagrined scowl as your eyes meet. The very same moody lunch partner from the day before.
“Hi,” you say sheepishly as you sit down and place your laptop on the table.
“Curtis will be doing most of the set up,” Jake explains as he sits beside the other man, “I’m mostly here for moral support.”
“Shut up,” Curtis sneers under his breath.
“Curtis,” you beam brightly; you finally got a name for the face. You give your own happily, enunciating it as if he’s never heard it before.
“Let’s get this done with,” he reaches across the table and takes your laptop. 
You can only watch as he lifts the lid and starts typing. Jake looks over a tablet and offers a few words as Curtis fiddles around with your laptop. He’s met with grumbles and dismissive nods. They seem an odd pair.
“So, how are you liking it?” Jake turns his attention to you, “making any friends?”
“A few I think,” you glance at Curtis as his brows draw together, “pretty big company.”
“Yep, don’t let the corporate sea drown ya,” Jake says, “my tip, stick with the IT nerds, we mostly don’t care what’s going on upstairs. We’re all about the backend.”
The steady clack of keys underlines your small laugh. You’re nervous. You hate meetings and you just want to go back to your desk and pretend you’re reading policies.
“What is this?” Curtis grimaces and turns your computer to you. He points to the clock your installed on the desktop; Hello Kitty’s face with two clock hands ticking.
“It’s cute. It’s a clock! Oh, and the app also has a reminder setting–”
“Can’t have it on a work machine,” he grits.
“It’s fine, Curt. Won’t hurt–”
“This shit is from some Discord troll. Bullshit it can’t hurt,” Curtis insists, “policy; no third-party apps. Everything you need is already installed.”
“Okay,” you twirl your thumbs around each other, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
He looks at you above the laptop and squints, his lip slightly curling. Jake rubs his neck nervously and nudges him. You still your hands and bite into your cheek.
“He’s had a long day. Spilled coffee on himself,” Jake explains.
“Oh,” you round your eyes, looking at the wall evasively.
“We can show you how to use the system clock and reminders. You’d be surprised the features most people don’t know about,” Jake offers.
“Thanks, uh, sounds good.”
Curtis jams his finger on the touchpad harshly. He keeps his snarl aimed at the screen. You watch him, waiting for him to look up. He doesn’t. You don’t blame him, you’ve been a real thorn in his side. But you only meant well.
🌞
After the meeting, you swept up in a whirlwind of overthinking and guilt. You didn’t mean to ruin Curtis’ day. You never meant to be anything but friendly. Somehow, it rarely translates to more than a nuisance.
Still, you don’t like when people are mad at you. You’re not a grudge holder and frankly you don’t understand them. Why hold onto all that bad emotion? You need to to just apologise and let it all smooth over.
You go down to the cafeteria and grab one of the few leftover pastries. A cinnamon bun with icing, yum. You stop and make a coffee before you head back to the floor. You guess on a dark brew, he seems the type.
You wander past Research and Development and through Accounting. You don’t really know where you’re going. The further you get, the more your anxiety mounts. Surely, you can’t get lost in an office building.
You see a man with a headset and send a psst in his direction. He looks up, combing back his greasy hair with his fingers and smiles.
“Uh, hey,” he says.
“Um, is this IT?” You keep your voice down in the curdling silence of the department.
“Sure is. You need a repair?” He winks. Not exactly your taste. You shake your head.
“I’m looking for Curtis,” you say.
The man looks at your handful. He nods, deflating.
“Pretty boy’s over there,” he points towards the corner.
You thank the man and press on in your journey into the villain’s lair. You can only hope your offering is enough. Forgiveness, maybe that’s too much, but an understanding, possibly.
You turn down the last row of desks and see Curtis’ large hand brush over the back of his buzzcut, his rings twinkling in the fluorescent glow. He stretches in his chair, leaning back as he reaches his arms up. His set-up looks almost too small for him.
As you approach, he stands. You don’t expect it. The motion sends his chair back just as you get close and knocks the coffee out of your hand. The cup hits the seat and soaks into the mesh. Your squeak draws the man around in surprise.
“You,” he growls as you gape at him in shock.
“Hi,” you don’t know what to do so you hold out the cinnamon bun, “um, sorry?”
He glares at you. A deadly look that chills you to the bone. His eyes fall to his drenched seat and you cringe. You see the rage pale his face. His hands ball to fists.
“I was just…” you inch closer and set the dessert on the corner of his desk, “apologising but I see now that–”
“Go,” he grits through his teeth.
“I’m sorry, Curtis–”
“I said go,” he sneers as his grey blue eyes slowly move towards you, “before you ruin anything else.”
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daintcas · 19 days
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can you write something where you go into mean!rafes tent when you’re camping with friends late at night, claiming you heard a noise but he doesn’t believe you and he discovers you’re true intentions was just to get in his pants🙏
oh my god this is so creative 😭 switched it up just a lil but i think it still fits ur idea !! apologies it took me so long to finally get around to it!
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the leaves crunch under your feet as you approach the insanely massive and luxurious tent just a few feet from your own.
you knew it was risky since everyone else was already asleep in their equally as expensive sleeping arrangements. it must have been the long night of partying around a bonfire because the only sound filling your ears were the crickets lingering at the nearby creek.
with nobody to interrupt your poorly thought out and drunken plan - after a few too many hard seltzers - you slowly unzipped what you were pretty sure was the zipper of rafe's tent. in all honesty, you didn't know him. he was just one among many guys a mutual friend invited, but you were coherent enough to recognize the suggestive glances he spared you.
you bit your lip while carefully stepping inside, attempting to minimize the ruffle of the uncomfortable material. it's pitch black in the tent - which is tall enough for you to stand at your full height. that is until the light of a phone screen exposes you standing in the unwelcome space.
"the fuck are you doing?" the voice is low and mean, clearly irritated at the invasion.
blinking your eyes open and looking straight into the only source of light, you pause for a moment before remembering the excuse you prepared earlier. "i, um— there was a noise. i thought it was coming from here?"
a scoff is what you get in return and the click of a lantern replaces the accusing spotlight from the device. that's when you get a good look at him, clad in grey sweats and a dark hoodie, socks bunched at his ankles. "a noise?"
blinking your heavy eyelids and looking up at him through your lashes, you can't help but feel adrenaline at the sarcasm in his tone. the drinks weren't working in your favor, that's for sure.
"mhm," you all but bob your head "in— in here. a noise." the amusement spreading across his face in the form of a smirk seals the deal, suddenly making you feel so small under his tall stature steadily approaching.
"riiight.." he draws out, raking in your form just like he had been before, but this time really taking it slow. from your fluffy socks up to the tiny victoria secret boxers, up to the lace bra peeking out from under your baggy sweatshirt.
if a cold night in the woods didn't give you goosebumps, his gaze certainly did. you let him encroach on your space, eyes glued to his face and tilting your head back to keep contact.
"you lyin'?" he finally questions, though his expression shows he already knows the answer - and already knows how you intend on responding.
"no.." you reply in a weak effort to keep up your story and use your hands to symbolize a crash as you add, "it was like a.. like a bang!"
his smile is a bit softer before returning to the menacing way it was before and he nods along with a taunting hum. nodding his head to end the discussion you both knew ended before it started, he acknowledges you directly. "why don't you tell me why you're really in here? not very safe sneaking around at night, is it?"
with a defeated sigh, you shake your head, tucking some hair behind your ear and standing calmly in a way you normally wouldn't if sober and well-rested.
a million thoughts run through his mind of exactly how this situation could play out as he tongues at his cheek and watches you closely. eventually deciding to think with the tent in his pants rather than the one sheltering the two of you, he leans right in your face and nudges your chin up to face him with the knuckle of his pointer finger.
"i'm sure your lil tent is cold, huh? why don't you uh— let me keep you warm, hm?" he offers while letting the scenarios run wild in his head. a pretty girl willingly bringing herself to him in the middle of the night, secluded, with nobody else in earshot.
it's like that's all you were waiting for because an eager yet still sweet and innocent smile finds your face. only able to squeak out a "'kay" before he's leading you gently by your upper arm to an air mattress - as of now still completely inflated.
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