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#I think the answer is to just live cringe and free
notyourwatermelon · 4 months
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it is so embarrassing to be a danganronpa fan who is tragically fascinated by all the most cringe characters. when your top ten characters of all time list contains nagito komaeda.... how do you live with that. how do you live with yourself. I'm not ashamed of it exactly but when a normal person like say, my roommate, watches me put up my large poster of him up over my bed in deafening silence.... how do you recover from that. please tell me because I really need to know
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peaktora · 2 months
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𝐂 𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐘 ˚◞♡ ⃗ satoru gojo
𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬 ┊ your husband is unbearably clingy.
𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 ┊0.9k words. no pronouns used or specified gender for the reader. intended lowercase. established relationship (#married).
a/n. — i’m warning u guys right now that this is not proofread 😭 .. i literally just typed this up rq and posted it bc it’s been too long since i’ve last posted something on here
p.s. the prompt was in my notes from a longgg time ago, but i believe it’s from @/creativepromptsforwriting .. if not please lmk !!
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"c'mere, hold my hand," satoru pleads for what has to be the third time. he pouts at you, who’s sitting on the countertop.
your brows furrow as you look up from your phone, "but, you're washing the dishes?”
he twists the faucet handle, and a steady stream of water flows down. after a brief glance at you, he places the plate beneath the water and says, "i know how to multitask, baby."
clinginess is defined as “the tendency to stay near someone for emotional support, protection, ect.” but there has to be another term for what satoru is, because you can't give any of those things while holding his hand right now.
you let out a deep breath and turn off your phone, watching as the screen fades to black. "satoru, there's no way i'm sticking my hand in that dirty dishwater," you say, sliding your phone into your pocket.
he practically shoves the plate into the drying rack. "i can't believe this," he huffs. "we literally had vows."
“what are y—“
“we had vows that said you’d love me in sickness and in health.”
"well…are you sick?" you ask, crossing your arms across your chest.
he pauses his task of washing dishes, leaving them untouched. leaning over the sink, he rests his arms against its edge. he steals a furtive glance at you, only to find your gaze locked onto him. with a hint of hesitation, he softly mumbles, "no..." before you can respond, he interrupts, "but i’m in health, and the vows said that you have to love and cherish me in this state too."
you lean back, searching your mind for what the alternative of holding his hand would be. because in no world would you hold his hand in dishwasher. then, it hits you. "for now, would a hug make you feel better?"
he answers your question with a hum, and you can't believe he's debating whether or not to accept your offer after all that drama over holding hands in dishwater. even so, he adds, "i'll have to give it some thought."
two can play that game.
“it’s okay,” you say, gracefully hopping down from the counter. a smirk spreads across your face. “i could just go—sit on the couch?” slowly, you start to walk in his direction and make your way over to the living room.
he doesn’t say anything, letting you do as you please. it’s not until you start to pass by him, that you get the reaction you wanted.
or atleast, somewhat similar to what you wanted.
"on second thought—" he exclaims, and the dishwater swirls around him as he turns around, his hands still wet and dripping.
you cringe as small puddles gather on the tiles. "hey—" but he interrupts you as he reaches out to grab your wrist. “ew—I—what the hell?”
you instinctively try to pull back, but he slips his wet hand in yours; sealing your fate.
“satoru—”
“what happened to nicknames?”
“satoru.”
"’m not sure who that is. i go by a lot of names, but not that one. lets go down the list, yeah?” he clears his throat. “i go by "babe, baby, swe—"
"you should consider adding "gojo" to that list."
"now, when have you ever called me gojo?”
"right now, in exactly ten seconds.” your husband gasps, hanging his mouth open. “satoru go—"
“woah woah woah—what’d i do to deserve this treatment?”
“you put your dirty dishwater hand in mine.” you jerk your hand back, struggling to escape free of his grip.
his grip tightens on your hand, “if you’re feeling like not loving me today then just say that.”
“hey—don’t discredit me. i offered you a hug and you said you had to “think” about it.”
“cause holding your hand ‘s better.”
you sigh, “after you’re done with the dishes, you can hold my hand as long as you want.“
he lets out a soft, thoughtful hum—the same hum that got you both into this situation in the first place. at the same time you shake your head, a mischievous twinkle appears in his eyes, and a smile twists onto the edges of his lips. "deal" he says, shaking your hand. “but before-“
you tsk, making him drop his excuse.
“wh—“
"the quicker these dishes get done, the quicker you’ll be able to hold my hand. so get on with it—go," you playfully command, and his grip loosens in response. seizing the opportunity, you slide your hand out of his grasp. you look down at it, seeing bits of food that’ve stuck to your palm. gross.
you walk over to the sink, feeling the cool water flow over your hand, washing away the food and dirt that clung to your skin. as you stand there, you hear satoru's voice grumbling from behind, "i hate doing dishes,” and you can’t help but snort.
before you know it, you feel his presence close behind you, his body pressing against yours. his arms encircle you, creating a cozy pocket of space between the counter and his body. satoru leans over your shoulder, gets a sponge from the soapy water, and starts washing a bowl. you simply lean back and look at his features.
the sight almost makes you want to stay in his arms forever. that is, until you realize the predicament you're in.
“you did not,” you whine. you desperately try to break free from the cage he’s trapped you in, but your attempts prove more and more pointless.
"oh, yes, i did," he declares with a smile. “what did you say earlier?" he clears his throat before proceeding. "the faster these dishes are done, the sooner you'll be able to hold my hand," he says, mockingly imitating your tone. "so, the faster these dishes are done, the sooner you can leave and do anything you want."
you sulk and moan while you reluctantly grab a dish and a spare sponge from the sink. “i hate you.”
“i love you more.”
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shawnxstyles · 9 months
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personal
DATE: JULY 24, 2023
summary: you and harry are best friends who tell each other everything. or so you thought. when harry finds out you’ve barely done anything sexual, he offers to change that. and then things get a little… personal.
song: Glitch- taylor swift (this song seems fitting)
words: 6.5k
warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [rubbing, fingering, nipple play, praise kink], mirror sex, cum tasting??, dirty talk), and language.
note: i literally wrote this in a few days i think. this idea is so basic, but who doesn’t love a cliché concept? PART 2
bestfriend!fratrry x inexperienced!reader (because i literally write no one else and fratrry is the love of my life)
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Harry had a lot of friends. People that he grew up with and some that he met along the way that just stayed. But you were his number one overall, and he told you everything. You told him everything too.
Well, almost everything.
It never really caught his attention that you guys never talked about sex. You guys have been friends for 15 years, since you were five, so you’d think it would have been brought up at least once. But now that Harry thinks about it, he can’t think of one time you’ve talked about the act.
He didn’t think it would be like this. And he didn’t think you’d answer like that.
You and Harry were casually hanging out on a free school day, just like you always do. And then you start talking about this date you went on and how the guy was great. Harry was happy for you, he really was. All he wanted was to see his best friend happier than happy. However, being the best friend he was, he was nagging and joking with you.
“Think he’s the one, eh?” Harry jokes, nudging your shoulder playfully on your couch.
“Oh, stop it. Don’t get ahead of yourself,” You roll your eyes and cross your arms. Yeah, Mike seemed like a decent guy and maybe you could have a relationship for a short time, but he was nowhere near “the one.”
You weren’t too desperate for a relationship, you liked whatever came to you. This cute guy asked you on a date a week ago and you weren’t going to say no. Because what if he was the one? He wasn’t, but what if?
“Imagine it, Doll,” Harry started. He began calling you Doll when you two were just kids. You loved to collect dolls of all sorts, but you never dared to take them out of the box. Harry thought it was silly, but also cool. “picket white fence, beautiful lake house. Kids runnin’ ‘round—”
He saw your face cringe at the word kids. He tilted his head in confusion, arm moving to rest behind you on the couch. He scoots closer to you and waits for you to respond.
“No kids for me,” You awkwardly chuckle. It seemed almost sad the way you sounded.
“What? Thought you wanted to be a mum?”
“Not anymore,” You breathed out with an awkward smile, “need a husband to do that.”
“Don’t worry ‘bout getting a husband. Shouldn’t stop you from wanting ‘em,” Harry smiled sincerely at you and you nodded while looking down.
“Plus, you could always just go out on the street and ask some good-lookin’ lad to be the father of your kids!” You socked Harry hard in the shoulder. He lets out a hearty laugh because he always ruins a sweet moment with a stupid joke. That’s just how you like it though.
“I’m not a prostitute!”
“Never said tha’.”
“Can we just watch some TV? You’re annoying me,” You roll your eyes as you reach for the remote. Harry continues to laugh as you switch the television on.
When you’re indecisive, you toss the remote to Harry and he shuffles through the stations. He lands on a random one, also indecisive. You guys were too similar sometimes.
“Look on your phone for somethin’ and then I’ll find it. I’m done searching.”
“You looked for like two seconds!” You laughed at his laziness. He shrugs with a smile, leaning into the couch. Again, you roll your eyes playfully before doing a bit of research on your phone.
Suddenly, a moan echoes throughout your living room and your whole body stiffens up. Harry notices and tears his eyes away from the screen, which was portraying the sexy noises. You don’t look at him even though you can feel his eyes burning into you.
“Alright?” he asked out of concern, peering at your rigidness. He’s only ever seen you get like that when you were anxious or scared, but nothing happened. Maybe you saw something scary on your phone?
“Uh, yeah,” You squeaked as the TV moaned again. Your face cringes and you force yourself to keep your eyes on your phone.
“Y/N, seriously,” Harry stares between you and the screen when she noisily moans again. The woman was being eaten out by the man and was being overly loud. Her back was arching and her breasts were on display. The movie was inappropriate, 18+ for sure, but it was nothing you hadn’t seen before. Right? You were both 21 years old.
“This… just makes me a tad uncomfortable is all,” You answered honestly, voice quiet as your legs tightened together. Harry’s eyebrows pursed together.
“Uncomfortable? Why?” he couldn’t help the question that slipped out of his mouth. He was too curious to know why a little movie made you stiff yet fidgety.
Unless… you were feeling something different than uncomfortable.
“No,” You shook your head and attempted to push yourself off the couch. Harry didn’t hesitate to grab your wrist and pull you back. He didn’t want you to run away and for you to feel like you couldn’t tell him something.
“Just tell me.”
“No,” You stood your ground, way too embarrassed to say something. Way too embarrassed to admit that you’ve never had sex before. Way too embarrassed to admit you’ve never done anything more than rub your own clit. Once. And it didn’t even feel that good.
Your skin was fiery and… tingly. Harry was much closer to you than he previously was because he pulled you closer to him. Your bare thighs were touching, warm on warm with a sudden spark. You didn’t know you weren’t breathing until you inhaled deeply at Harry’s hooking stare.
“Doll, you tell me everything, but you can’t tell me why a little porn makes you uncomfortable? Because I know it’s tha’.”
“Ugh,” You groaned between clenched teeth. You threw your head back until it hit the top of the couch. Harry’s grip on your wrist never left you. He squeezed it reassuringly, letting you know that he supports you in whatever you’re going to say.
Are you really about to say it?
“Y/N, just—”
“No.”
“I thought we were best friends—”
“Do not pull that card!”
“But—”
“I’ve never had sex before, okay?” You shouted over Harry’s pleading voice and the echoing moans from the television. You’d think by the time you had a whole argument they’d be done having sex, but nope.
Harry was cut off, so his mouth was slacked open. Once he realizes his jaw is on the floor, he blinks a few times to really process what you’ve said. If you had told anyone else, they would have harshly judged you. Harry wasn’t necessarily too different, but he was your best friend, and he was going to try his hardest not too. Harry was just more shocked if anything. He had a handful of different bodies, enough to give him a good amount of experience. So when he finds out you’ve done nothing, he’s beyond surprised to his core.
“But you’ve had so many dates,” Harry looks over at your face, which was looking down at your lap. Your wrist was still trapped in his hand, but you were twiddling your thumbs like you were in trouble. He starts rubbing reassuring circles with his thumb over your knuckle. Your skin was so hot, and Harry’s theory of you being turned on continued in his mind.
Did you even know what that meant? You were naive, right?
“So? That doesn’t mean anything,” Your attitude was shining through. But deep down, you were more embarrassed than anything. This was just your coping mechanism. And of course, Harry knew that.
“Surely you’ve done something else,” Harry suggests. You pin him with a knowing look and a long blink.
“I haven’t,” You answered before even hearing his question. He clearly doesn’t care about your reply because he’s asking you a series of interrogation questions.
“Have you had someone eat you out—” Harry points to the screen, but it was on a commercial break now. You got the point, but Harry clearly didn’t.
“No,” You grumbled.
“What about fingering—”
“No.”
“A toy?”
“Where would I even buy that?”
“Or—”
“No, Harry. Nothing.”
“Not even rubbing?” he asks. You stay quiet, unsure if you want to admit the one-time experiment you did.
Why does it even matter? You tried it and you realized you don’t like it, so you never have to do it again right?
“Not… really,” You hesitated. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion while your skin burned at boiling temperature.
“Humping?”
“No—I tried to…” You couldn’t get the words out. Not ever you’d think. But especially not with Harry so close to you. His body was warm, not as warm as yours, but it was eliciting something inside of you that you couldn’t comprehend. The way he nonchalantly said so many dirty things made you dizzy.
“Tried to what?” Harry was thinking of so many things you could say. He wanted to finish your sentence, just like how he wanted to finish you until you were crying his name and soaking him. But he wanted to hear you say it. He’s never thought of you in such an explicit way, but with the words and tension floating in the air it was hard not to.
“…do it myself.”
“And how did that work out, Doll?”
“Um,” You didn’t expect him to ask. Your neck and cheeks light up in small flames. Where did this come from? “I…”
“What? I thought you could tell me anything?” When your eyes flickered up to his, they were a dark, swirling green you’ve never seen on his face before. Your heart skipped a dangerous beat, frightened with anticipation.
“I know, I can. But this… it’s different.”
“How so?”
“It’s personal—”
“Best friends are personal.”
“But not like this. Best friends don’t do this,” You tried to get up again, nearly ripping yourself away from his grip. But you were in too deep now. Harry wasn’t going to let this one slide. His mind was thinking about one thing and one thing only.
You.
He yanks you back and twirls you around, releasing your wrist in the process. He grabs you by the hips and pulls you down to his lap. You couldn’t contain the slight gasp you let out at the feeling of his strong legs beneath you. Your legs were on either side of him, tempting to squeeze shut. Every movement you made Harry would feel in this position.
“Best friends can say anything. They can do anything too,” Harry’s hands caress your thighs. They’re comforting and inviting, but are also sending a field of goosebumps along your skin warning you to flee. It’s hard to focus on anything but his touch and the vibration of his words through the air. “Now, tell me, did you rub yourself?”
“Yes,” You stutter, trying to stop your hips from squirming on his lap. He notices and grips one side of your body to steady you. It only makes you want to shift more. His touch was almost overwhelming, but you wanted more of it.
Was it wrong to want more of your best friend’s touch?
“Did it feel good?”
“No,” A part inside of you was a bit disappointed that it felt so bland. You thought masturbation was this great thing, and that’s why people did it so frequently. You heard it was also a stress-reliever, but for you, it was just a stress-inducer. Harry could tell by your tone that you weren’t lying.
“Well, you probably weren’t doing it right,” Harry replies and you look up at him with a slightly startled expression and a scoff. You didn’t expect his response to be so straightforward, like he was a doctor diagnosing you with some disease.
“How could I do it wrong? Don’t I just rub…?”
“Baby, it’s much more than that,” Harry said sincerely. He’s never called you baby before, but the nickname had your heart jumping. “Were you even wet?”
“What? I—probably? I don’t remember…”
“You would remember.”
“The experience wasn’t very memorable,” You grumble with an eye roll.
“Do you want me to show you?”
His question had your head spiraling. He wanted to what? There is no way. There is no way those words just left Harry, your best friend’s, mouth.
“W-what? That’s way too personal!” Your eyes were wide and your skin was burning. You were nearly dizzy with this whole conversation and your stomach was tight. You thought you might need to lie down for a while.
Maybe you were sick. Yeah, that’s it.
“Best friends are personal, Doll. Just let me show you, yeah? And then we never have to talk about it again. If y’don’t want. Please,” Harry’s charm was convincing you. Everything about him was luring you in, completely different than ever before. The way his eyes was dark and his touch was warm made you feel wanted and needed, which was contrary to your past dates. They didn’t look at you this way, nearly beg for you this way. They didn’t show you anything. They wanted you because they wanted to get their dick wet, but they hated the idea of a virgin.
And Harry’s familiar. He’s safe. You don’t have to be afraid when you’re with him. But then why are you so nervous?
Harry was willing to teach you how to do the one thing you’ve been curious about your whole life, and you’re going to pass up the opportunity, why? Because he’s your best friend?
Isn’t that supposed to make it better?
“Okay, fine,” You inhaled as your hands gripped onto his T-shirt on his shoulders. You had convinced yourself to let the words slip out. “Show me.”
You were agreeing almost as if this wasn’t a big deal for you. But to Harry, it was. He would take your firsts, and something about that filled him with pride. A smirk slowly rides up on his lips, “Now?”
A blush cascades through your body. Of course he didn’t mean right now!
“I-I thought you meant—”
“Shh, relax, Doll. I was just makin’ sure,” he smirks again, pulling you closer to him. He loved watching you get all squirmy and flustered more than he thought. You could feel his body heat more than ever now, and you’re surprised you lasted this long on his lap without dying. “I’m going to give you a few options, okay?”
With anxiousness, you nodded and swallowed.
“When we do this, you have to talk. So use your words, Y/N,” You knew he was being serious when he said your name, so you replied with yes and then he was giving you your options.
“So, I can lay you down right here on the couch and show you how to rub your little clit,” his explicit words were making your privates ache, but it wasn’t painful. It kind of felt… good? You felt a foreign liquid dampen your underwear, and you can only assume that’s the wetness Harry was talking about. “Or, you can do it yourself on m’thigh with my help. Which one sounds like something y’want to do?”
“The first one,” You answered, painfully desperate to squeeze your legs together to stop this ache. “But how will I see what you’re doing?”
Harry thought for a moment. You made a good point. How were you supposed to learn simply from feeling? Harry knew you were a bit of a visual learner, so he wanted to make sure you saw how to pleasure yourself correctly. And he knew the perfect way to do that.
“I actually have a third option. But s’not really a choice anymore,” Harry doesn’t say anything after, he just lifts himself and you off the couch without warning. You wrap your arms and legs around his body like a koala, making sure you don’t fall. His warmth encompasses you back and you wish you could just stay there forever.
Familiar. Safe.
When your head peers up from his shoulder, you’re in his bathroom. Your eyebrows pinch together, curious as to what his third choice was.
He sets you down on the floor until your feet are planted. You unwrap your arms from him, still confused.
“Do you trust me, Y/N?” Harry’s eyes were still dark, and you wondered if they would ever go back to the strong, emerald green they used to be.
“Yes, of course,” You didn’t hesitate to answer. There was no one that you trusted more than Harry that wasn’t in your bloodline.
“Okay,” Harry breathes, “Strip f’me. Keep your bra and underwear on.”
You nearly questioned him in shock. But then you remembered what the whole goal of this was. He was going to show you how and you were going to listen, right? So you did.
Carefully, you stripped yourself of your clothes. He’s seen you in bathing suits before, and some were revealing, so this can’t be as bad, right? Harry didn’t peel his eyes away although you wanted him to. He hasn’t seen you naked since you two were little kids, and even though you weren’t naked, it felt like you were with his burning gaze. Obviously, there were some changes too. Like height, hair, breasts, ass… the whole thing. Harry doesn’t say anything until you’re in your undergarments.
A swimsuit is definitely different.
“Good. Now, c’mere,” Harry sits down on the floor, a few feet away from his full-body mirror. His body was up against the bathtub wall to keep himself steady. You slowly lowered yourself to the floor, wondering what was going on through his head.
He pulls you between his legs until you’re pressed against his body. His warmth radiated through you far better with less clothes on and your body ached some more. Your legs closed to squeeze it away.
“Nuh uh,” he declines. Harry grips your thighs with his ringed fingers and yanks them apart. You gasp at the extreme vulnerability and the coolness that waves over your privates. He throws your legs over his and bends them slightly, making you unable to move at all. “Keep them open, yeah?”
You nodded, but that’s not what he told you to do.
“Words.”
“Yes. Keep them open.”
“Good girl. You’re learning,” Harry smiled and looked towards the mirror. His eyes instantly zoomed in on the growing wet patch on the front of your cotton panties, and he couldn’t help but smirk. He saw and felt your body squirming similarly like how you were on his lap. He’s had a rock-hard cock since this conversation started, so he’s not surprised if you can feel his hard-on poking your back through his shorts.
His hands rested on your knees as you watched him in the mirror. The entirety of it all was extremely erotic, like something that would be on TV.
“If you like something, tell me. If you hate something, tell me. It’s important that you do so, okay? It helps both of us learn.”
“Okay,” You were nearly shaking with anticipation. You were so nervous, but why? It’s just Harry. It’s just Harry. “I kind of like when you say I’m doing a good job. Makes me feel… nice.”
“Yeah?” Harry tried to conceal the smirk that threatened to rise on his lips. Of course his best friend, who happened to be the most innocent person in the world, had a praise kink. It just made too much sense. “Like when I call you a good girl?”
You sighed and nodded, but Harry didn’t say anything this time. He just kept going.
One of his hands rested on your knee, tracing delicate circles. He stayed in the same spot, for god knows how long, and you wondered when he would do something. He seemed to be in a trance. He was hyper-focusing on every centimeter with those circles, and although you were getting impatient, you felt cared for.
One of his hands snakes to your chest and rubs your nipple through your bra. Just when you were about to protest, his fingers moved a tad lower. The roughness of his pads tickled your skin just right and caused your thighs to squirm. It was entertaining for Harry to watch you get all squirrely from such a simple touch.
He’s going to have fun with you.
“It… tickles,” You observe as your eyes look down at his fingers, very gradually moving closer to that ache in between your legs. You felt like a kid exploring a new world for the first time; naive and curious.
“What does?”
“Your fingers,” You stare at him in the mirror almost as if he’s stupid. What else would tickle?
“Does this tickle?” Harry’s knuckle brushes the inside of your thighs, lower than he’s been. You inhale at the subtle sensitivity.
“Not much,” You answer, and his knuckle continues to sway leisurely. Your breath picks up, rising faster at his hand’s proximity.
“What about this?” His index finger traces the hem of your panties with purpose. You gasp when he gets deep in between your legs, outlining your cunt with ease. Your legs attempt to shut with a shake, shying away from the vulnerability, but it’s impossible with his strong legs prying you open.
“A-a little.”
“And this?”
As if his touch could be anymore teasing, he finally dances along your clothed cunt, tracing your lips with curiosity of how you’d react. A mix of a sigh and a moan wavers out of you unintentionally, hips pushing closer towards his finger. Your mind blanks, light and fuzzy. Your face immediately falls to gaze at his movements, attracted to the air-headed feeling.
“Eyes on the mirror,” Harry demands while delicately caressing you. It was ironic, really. His voice was so rough and stoic while his touch was ever so gentle. With a few blinks, you're focusing in on the mirror, obeying his command. “How does this feel? Does it tickle?”
“Good, and yes,” You swallow your moan as his finger keeps petting you lightly. You were almost getting used to it, but you wanted more. “Is this what I was supposed to do?”
“Sort of. This is called foreplay. Heard of tha’?”
“I think so?” You were breathless.
“S’basically where I get you all wet and ready f’me. You like that?”
“L-love and hate relationship right now,” You pant as his finger rises away from your weeping, covered hole and travels up to your clit. You choke out a gasp as he strokes it nonchalantly.
“Oh,” Your hand drops to his thigh, gripping it strongly as your body begins to tingle. You strain your neck to keep your eyes on the mirror ahead of you, trying to watch how he does it.
His familiar smirk never fades from his face, cheeks a tad rosy from the heat waving between you two. His wrist is probably sore from the tedious, repeated movements he does. His thick fingers delicately circle your covered clit, applying generous pressure until you’re panting.
“More. I think I need more,” You suggest when his pace stays a consistent speed. You needed to feel his fingers on your bare skin. If he was going to touch you, you wanted him to just do it already.
“Y’think?” Harry’s tone was taunting yet serious. He wanted you to be firm with what you wanted. He didn’t want you to second-guess your own pleasure. If you needed more, you needed to tell him that. The best way for that to happen was for him to train you. “Beg for it.”
As your head becomes floaty with the stimulation, you don’t even hesitate to throw out pleads.
“Please, Harry. I-I need it, need more,” Your head slowly falls back onto his shoulder before his touch is gone. “Wha—”
Harry couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to see you. All of you. He needed to see what he did to you, and if you were really as desperate as you seemed. As shocking as this all may be to you, it was just as shocking to Harry. He couldn’t believe he was this turned on from his best friend’s inexperience. He’s always liked when a girl knew what she was doing and knew how to reciprocate. But something about Harry teaching you and showing you the ropes just fills him with a kind of power and pride that he can’t get from anywhere else. And he’s feasting off of it.
“M’gonna take these off, alright?”
“Everything? O-okay,” He unclipped your bra as you slowly slid down your panties. The tile beneath you was colder than before, but Harry’s warm body behind you kept you comforted.
“Have you heard of the traffic light system?” he asks, hands resting gently on your bare shoulders. He gets straight into the safety part first. It also distracts him from ogling your naked figure against him. He could feel his cock twitch in his briefs at your fluttering pussy and peaked nipples.
“I assume you don’t mean the ones used for driving?” You both chuckle and break some of the swollen tension in the room. It was a nice little reminder that it’s just Harry.
“No, Doll. The one for safety and consent,” he chuckled.
“Yeah, no, I’ve never heard of it.”
“If you say red, I’ll stop instantly and ask what made y’red. Communication is key. If y’say yellow, I’ll slow down and ask you again. And then we can either continue or stop, whatever y’want. But if your color is green, I’ll keep going. Understand, love?”
There was a lot of information, but you were able to keep up. It was actually similar to the traffic light system, which makes the name very fitting. You reply with a firm yes to note that you understand.
All while he was talking and explaining everything, you were getting used to looking at yourself in the mirror. You weren’t always confident in your body, but staring at it in between Harry’s made you feel safe and sexy somehow.
Before your mind can wander too far, Harry’s hands are falling down until they’re at your nipples. His rough fingers lightly pinch the already-hard buds until you’re pushing up into his touch. The warmth and the nakedness made you overly flushed all over. He gropes your breasts with care, slyly sliding another hand down lower.
Throughout this entire process, you’ve been soaking; in your underwear, in your shorts, and now on his bathroom tile. Your lower body has been throbbing in desire to be aided, and Harry seems to know just what you need.
His fingers hover right above your mound that’s screaming for him to go lower. Your heart rams against your chest in anticipation of his bare hands on your bare body, on your most sacred and vulnerable parts. No one has ever touched you beside yourself. A small part inside of you was glad that the first person was Harry because you knew you wouldn’t regret it.
Right?
“Stop thinking s’much,” he says, rubbing a warm palm over your belly. His face moves your head, so his lips can kiss your temple reassuringly. You slightly arch your back, so maybe he could see how desperate you are. Your legs were still spread by his, so you know he can see your wetness. If you can see it, so can he. “Just let me show you how it’s done.”
“Okay, Mr. Cocky,” You roll your eyes as he shifts your hair behind your ear, “What if I don’t even like it?”
“The name is very fitting. But that’s for a different day,” he says with a cocky smirk on his face. Now that sounds like something Harry would say. But your entire face gets warm and your head gets a little fuzzy when you actually imagine it. “and you will. Trust me.”
You take a deep breath. You weren’t sure how far you guys were going to go, but you’ve never felt more ready and more safe. With the system Harry told you about and all his reassurance, it was clear that even if he was teaching you, you were the one that had all the control.
“Now watch me.”
With those words his hand turns into just one finger and resumes on your clit. You gasp into the air as your body jolts. The roughness of his thumb paints your arousal over and over on your skin.
“This little thing is important. Don’t neglect it.”
His rhythm is slow and tedious as he circles the nub. You see and feel him dip down to collect some more of your wetness as he continues stroking you.
“How’s this? Color?” he gruffs in your ear while staring at you darkly in the mirror. You could barely understand him because you were panting embarrassingly and trying your hardest to focus on the reflecting glass in front of you.
“Good! Wait—green,” You corrected yourself as a moan elicited from you, his touch feeling even better each second.
“Good girl.”
“Fuck,” You feel yourself clench around nothing but your own wetness at his words. You both watch as the liquid quenches out of your dripping hole, making Harry groan from behind you.
“Do y’think you can handle one finger? Hm?” his voice rolls perfectly into your ear as he twists your peaked nipple. You couldn’t control your moans at the pleasure. His voice sounded just as good as the feeling of his hands.
“Yes, yes. Harry, please,” You nearly cried from how bad you needed it. You didn’t even know you needed it this bad. You thought you were going to hate this feeling, but you’re far from it.
“So submissive, so responsive,” Harry’s middle finger pushes against your hole, teasing the opening. You hold your breath as he makes you wait. “Breathe, Doll. Relax.”
Your eyes close for a moment. You breathe deep and feel your limbs lose their sudden tenseness. Before you can open them again, Harry’s finger is slotting inside of you easily. A gasp falls from your mouth as your hand grips on his meaty thigh for support.
“O-oh.” The feeling was insane. Intense. Nearly overwhelming. You clenched around his digit, consuming and caging it like it would fade away.
You’re so tight around him, he swears his finger might fall off. Harry’s cock is pulsing and pleading behind your back, but you don’t seem to notice. He’s making sure he doesn’t rut into you, but it’s so difficult when you’re all spread out and submissive for him.
He’s never thought of you like this, but fuck, now he can’t think of you any other way.
“Color, Doll?” Harry grumbles in your ear, voice low and breathy as it fans over your skin warmly.
“Green. What’s more than green? B-blue? Just–don’t stop–God,” Your squeaky voice rambled as his finger pumped in and out slowly. You can hear his smile behind your screwed eyes. The pad of his thumb rubbed delicate circles over your throbbing clit to escalate the pleasure.
Your chest was beating fast when your legs started to shake. Your hips bucked closer to his hands, needing more as you chase the glorious feeling.
“Look at you, takin’ me so well,” Harry praises, subtly curling his finger as your back arches. You know that one finger isn’t a lot, barely anything, but you were melting at the praise that Harry gave you. His constant encouragement is what made you putty in his hands. Literally.
“Harry,” You moaned into the heated air, causing Harry to groan desperately behind you. And you’re not too stupid to deflect that Harry might be turned on from the scene unfolding. If you knew more, if you knew better, you would have offered to help him after. But you were inexperienced, and you assumed he wouldn’t want someone to give him head who could possibly bite his dick off.
“Are you close, baby? Hm? Gonna come for the first time on my hand?”
“Y-yes! Please,” You begged as you climbed your high, wondering what the top would feel like if the chase was this blissful.
Your head falls restlessly on his shoulder while his right hand keeps focusing on your cunt. It was covered in your arousal as his pace picked up. The stimulation was almost too much, your body wanted to push away. But your mind was pleading to feel a release you know your body needed.
“Is it gonna h-hurt?” You groaned as your cunt clenched around him again, stomach tensing. A strong rush you assumed could only be an orgasm was approaching you all too fast.
“No, Doll. It’s gonna feel real good,” He twisted your nipple again, pushing you over the edge. You felt his thumb and index pinch your clit, causing you to scream his name against his chest. “Look in the mirror. Watch yourself fall apart f’me. Watch and make sure this time is memorable.”
You always thought Harry had a way with words. You never thought that about dirty talking though. His hands were as skillful as can be, and maybe one day you’ll be able to make yourself feel as good as he made you feel. But his words are something that you’ll never be able to treat yourself with. You don’t think you’ll ever meet another person whose voice is as fitting as Harry’s.
With his demanding tone, you came right over the edge. An overwhelming ripple of pleasure ceased through your body, shaking your legs to the max. Soundless moans and clawing nails were all you were capable of as you came on his large hand. Although you were straining, you never took your eyes off of the mirror. He told you to look at yourself as you came, but you were only staring at the glaring green eyes reflecting back at you. He rubbed all of your orgasm until you were trembling from overstimulation.
Just when you thought he was done, he raised his ringed hand to his mouth and tasted you. You thought that was something that they only did porn or movies. You swallowed intensely as his hum vibrated through you.
“Do you always… taste it?”
“If I think it’ll taste good,” he smirked as you scooted forward to grab your shirt. As you throw it over your head, you just had to ask.
“Did mine taste any good?” You slightly cringed as you asked the question. Does cum usually taste good? What does it even taste like?
His smirk widens, a hint of evilness rising, “do you want to find out?”
Your skin flushes even against the chilling tile. Your heart skips a beat at trying yourself. You hadn’t ever thought of it before. But you’ve come (literally) this far tonight, so why not just take it a little further?
“O-okay,” You slowly lift up your shirt, revealing your fucked-out cunt to him again. “So I just…?”
“May I?” he suggests.
“Yes.”
Two of Harry’s fingers swipe over your cunt, which was still covered in a mix of your arousal and cum. You jolted from the stimulation, tensing quickly before his touch was gone.
“Open,” and without thinking, you do. Your mouth falls open as his fingers lay flat on your tongue. Salty and creamy, it spreads over your tastebuds. You hummed around his fingers just like he did because it tasted good. Yeah, it was a bit odd, but once you got past that, you realized how erotic and sexy it was. “How’s it taste?”
After a bit of suckling on his digits, he puts them out way too soon for your liking. “Good, actually.” You creak from your dry throat.
“I think so too. Let’s clean you up real quick.”
Still sitting on the floor, a warm, wet towel soothes your sensitiveness as he wipes away all of your liquids. A smile broke out on his face when he finished before his hand landed on top of your head. He shook your hair like crazy until it was already wilder than it was. The action was childlike and friendly, almost as if everything between you guys never happened and you were back to square one. It was better that way, though. Right? To just go back to how everything used to be?
Harry grabs the small hand towel and exits his bathroom. You assume he went to discard it and add it to his laundry, but you just sat there in oblivion. You already missed his touch, longing for something you should’ve never even had in the first place. He was the one that offered himself to teach you, but now you’ve been taught, so where do you guys go now? Are you really supposed to just go back to the way it was?
He saw you in ways that no one else has before. You always thought that you would be intimate and have your groups of firsts with someone that you were dating, someone that you loved. Because of this, you realized that Harry was the safe option. Doing this with Harry changed your views on everything, and your body, heart, and mind couldn’t keep up with the rapid reversal.
You knew that Harry had a few notches in his belt. But were they all from relationships or just one-night stands? You didn’t know because you two rarely ever discussed the topic. Was it easy for Harry to go from girl to girl? Or did he get attached like you?
If there was one thing you always feared from sex and sexual doings, it was the intense attachment. You had heard about the infamous addiction intimacy laces within your veins that makes you crave a person. Now that you’ve been with Harry, that won’t happen to you, right?
You’ve known Harry forever, yet you’ve never craved him. He’s your best friend, and you’ve never seen him as more than that. If it was anyone else, you’d probably lose all control because you have no significant relationship with them. It would be easy to latch onto anybody because it would be easy to lose them too. Harry, on the other hand, was not easy to lose.
The last thing you want is to convince yourself of anything. You don’t want to “crave” Harry just because you saw something about an article online about “sexual chemicals fusing.” You couldn’t. No, it was too risky.
You’ve known Harry forever, so you couldn’t lose him forever too.
“I think I found a good movie to watch!” Harry’s voice echoes from his living room and all the way into the bathroom where you haven’t moved a muscle. Your overthinking was louder than it’s ever been. With a shaky breath, you rise from the tiles and stare at your disheveled appearance in the mirror. The same mirror you watched Harry finger fuck you with.
“Be out there in a second!” You shout back as your heart beats rapidly from his heartwarming voice laughing loudly at something. You clutched your chest, wondering why the fuck you were feeling the organ lurch for him in a way that wasn’t meant for him.
You knew that it was way too fucking personal.
thanks for reading angels 😙 part 2
taglist: @crybabyddl @tiaamberxx @alwaysclassyeagle @bisexual-desi @littlenatilda @raajali3
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corpsebasil · 1 year
Text
Karma Part 2
ghostface is your friend, and he loves playing games with you
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A gloved hand grabbed your mouth at the same time an arm looped around your waist, yanking you up off the floor and backwards.
You shrieked into the attacker’s palm, your voice muffled; you’d just been shot at—shot at—barely thirty seconds before. Sam and Tara were crouched in a different isle of the small convenience store, and Ghostface…he was carrying a gun, and had barely missed you by an inch.
“Shut up.” A voice growled low into your ear, as you were tugged, helplessly, through the employees only door until it slammed shut. He dragged you for several more seconds before dropping you, watching as you jumped to your feet and stared, wide eyed, at a second Ghostface.
“I know Karate!” You lied, holding your hands up. “I will defend myself!”
“I just saved your ass.” The killer hissed, voice almost a whisper, and raised a finger to his mask, as if telling you to be quiet. Then he pointed to the back door of the room—an emergency exit.
“What?” You whispered back, nearly jumping out of your skin when you heard another gunshot. “I cant just leave the others they—”
Ghostface moved towards you so fast you almost fell over in your haste to get away, but it was no use. He took your arm and dragged you towards the exit, grip bruising as he shoved it open. The alarm practically split your teeth open and you cringed, watching as he jabbed his finger over and over at the outside ally.
“I cant.” You insisted, eyes still wide, heart hammering as you looked at the killer. You knew—obviously you knew—that this was the one that had spared you. Had taken you to the hospital. You still weren’t sure how you felt about that.
“They left you.” The killer snarled, and shoved you out the door, slamming it shut behind you.
You just stood there, breathing heavily in the night air outside, and made up your mind. You turned and ran, eager to get to your apartment as fast as you could.
Tara called you an hour later, after you’d showered and attempted to calm yourself, sitting alone on the couch in your living-room. You picked up the phone and, with shaking fingers, answered.
“Y/N, where the fuck are you?” Her tone was both accusatory and worried, and guilt you didn’t want to feel slammed through you.
“I found an emergency exit,” you said, gritting your teeth against the lie. “he almost shot me. I’m sorry, I panicked.”
“No that’s—that’s fine. Sam and I are both fine, by the way.”
“Okay. Good.” You ran a hand over your face and sighed, closing your eyes for a moment. “Hey Tara?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you think there might be…more than one?”
The line went silent for a moment. Then she spoke.
“There always is.” She told you, and then you heard the clicking noise that said she’d hung up.
You stared down at your phone for a moment, feeling a bit sick. Your apartment felt creepy when you were alone, the darkness creeping around every corner. So you stood, moving to your kitchen, and did what you always did when you were stressed: you baked.
You’d bring the cookies to school tomorrow and hopefully everything could feel normal for at least an hour or so.
So you began, googling a recipe and mixing your ingredients, your oven a warm presence behind you. Just as you’d gotten the first batch in the oven, the rest of the dough still in the mixing bowl, your phone rang again. You answered on autopilot, licking a bit of chocolate off the tip of your finger.
“Yeah?” You asked, propping the phone against your shoulder and holding it there as you rinsed your hands free of sugar, then toweled them off.
“Hello, Y/N.”
You dropped your phone, yelping when it landed on your bare toes, and then quickly snatched it up. Heart racing, giving your apartment a quick glance for any signs of another presence, you slowly lifted to phone back to your ear.
“Is this the gun one or the other one?” You asked, voice quavering a bit as you searched around for a possible weapon.
“I’m offended, Y/N.” Ghostface sighed, just as you found a knife. “I thought we were friends by now.”
“We aren’t friends.” You scoffed, stepping around your kitchen island to do a sweep around your livingroom, then ducking your head into your bathroom. You flipped all the lights on you could, still looking, heart hammering against your ribcage. “And you’re confusing. Stop playing with my head and just kill me if you’re gonna kill me.”
“For someone who doesn’t want to die you sure ask for it a lot.”
“I know my odds.” Your voice felt small as you approached your closet, knife outstretched in front of you as you moved towards it. “I’d rather be realistic.”
“A nihilist. I like it.” He chuckled, and that dark laugh shot goosebumps across your skin. “But I don’t break my promises, Y/N. I’m not going to hurt you. Not too much.”
“Bastard.” You grumbled, flinging open your closet doors. There was no one. “Are you even—”
“You shouldn’t talk to your friends that way.” Ghostface said, but it wasn’t through the phone.
You screamed when an arm crushed around you, forcing you to drop the knife in your hand. He pulled you away from the closet, towards the living-room, even as you thrashed in his grip. But then he was letting you go, pointing a threatening finger in your direction.
“No knives.” He said, shaking his head as if in disappointment. “You’re smarter than that.”
“Get out of my apartment.” You spat, backing away towards the kitchen. “Get out or I’ll—”
“You’ll what? Kill me?” He tilted his head, walking around the opposite side of the island and towards you. You stilled as he neared, your hands itching with the urge to go for the nearest weapon, but then stiffened when he pointed to the oven. “Gonna get those?”
You nearly screamed when your kitchen alarm went off, slamming a hand against your chest as you jolted. Ghostface shrugged, as if in nonchalance, as he reached for an oven mitt.
“What the hell are you—give me that.” You scoffed, moving towards him to yank the glove out of his grip. You shooed him away, giving him a lethal stare, before removing the cookies from the oven. There was no way—no way in Hell that you were doing domestic activities with a serial killer. You’d lost your mind. Lost it.
You felt his presence like a knife poised to strike behind your back, watching you as you set the cookies down on the stove and inspected them. When you were done, you turned, unsurprised to see him hardly a foot away from you. He tilted his head, that creepy, pale mask looking down, before he moved a step closer.
You froze.
“Relax, Y/N.” He purred, reaching out to tuck your hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering. The material of the glove felt wrong against your skin. “I only wanted to visit my…newest friend.”
“You’re sick, you know that?” You said, pushing his chest away when he moved even closer. He only leaned into your touch, your arm bending involuntarily as that mask, that freaky ass mask, stared back. “You kill people. Innocent people.”
“They weren’t innocent.” He snarled, and turned you, grabbing your waist and shoving you against the opposite counter. You let out a cry and tried to scramble away, but he held you fast. “Stay away from them.” He said; the killer seemed to be breathing as hard as you. “Or you’re going to get caught up in their shit.”
“They’re my friends—”
“I’m your friend.” This time, you only stared as he moved away, glancing quickly around your kitchen before he moved towards the stovetop, picking up a cookie off the pan. You gaped. “Take my advice. Or don’t.” He said, then left, practically vanishing out your front door, leaving you without hardly any breath, heart still pounding, alone.
-
You couldn’t get there fast enough.
You searched and searched, scanning your usual study rooms, then the library. Then you checked outside and relief hit you like a shot, your feet carrying you swiftly over to where Ethan, Chad, Mindy, and Tara sat. Ethan looked up first, a smile growing onto his face as you approached, already rising from his seat.
You threw yourself into his arms so fast you almost knocked him over, a choking sound leaving your mouth as every ounce of terror and confusion you’d been feeling since last night slammed into you again.
“Hey—hey—” Ethan’s voice was stunned, but he still held you, arms warm against your back. “What is it? Y/N, what—”
“He was in my house.” You cried, shoulders heaving, even as Chad and the others moved over to you, already asking a flurry of questions. Ethan waved them off with a hand, trying to give you some space.
“Who was?” He asked, and you almost snorted. “Ghostface?”
“Who else?” You sucked in a shaking breath, pulling back half an inch to wipe the wetness off of your face. “He said he—was my friend. And that he wasn’t going to hurt me too much, whatever that means, and then he—”
“Are you hurt?” He demanded, pulling back to give you a once-over, but you laughed. This seemed to surprise him. “What’s so—”
“He stole a cookie.” You told him, hysteria almost rising as you reached into your tote bag and pulled out the container. You shoved them at Ethan, still feeling slightly crazed. “A cookie.”
“Maybe he’s into sweets.” Ethan’s worried expression had relaxed into one of amusement, his white teeth flashing in a grin as he took the box out of your hand. He opened the lid and looked in, nodding appreciatively. “Double chocolate. I like it.”
“Oh hush you’re—” but a laugh escaped you, watching him take a comically large bite, rolling his eyes back into his head, and the others seemed to take your change in attitude to be a sign they could approach.
They asked you about a hundred questions but finally took cookies of their own, slumping back down onto the seats of the table they’d been at before. Mindy was watching you, a confused, almost worried look on her face, but quickly showed you an aggressively raised eyebrow when she caught you looking.
You jumped a little when Ethan took you hand, tilting his head in the opposite direction, towards the parking lot.
“Wanna skip?” He asked, giving you that boyish grin again. “If we’ve got a killer on the loose, I don’t feel like going to Math.”
You smiled hesitantly and gripped his hand in your own, a thrill running through you at the fact that he was touching you so casually.
“You’re the worst study partner I’ve ever had.” You lied, as you pulled him towards the parking lot, and he laughed.
-
Later, after lunch with Ethan and a day trip to the aquarium, you sat together on your couch, you curled up next to him as you watched the newest Spiderman movie. Ethan had occasionally commented, sometimes complaining about a detail that wasn’t comic accurate, sometimes an excited statement about some action scene.
During the aquarium visit you’d walked through the dark halls, your hands brushing against each other’s occasionally as you peered at the tiny fish, the sharks, and the turtles. Ethan hooked his pinkie around your own, sending a jolt of what felt like electricity through your system, and, after a beat, you’d slipped your hand fully into his.
Now, as the credits began to roll on the movie, you yawned, turning and pressing your cheek against his chest. He was running a hand idly down your back, his head resting on your own. He gave you a sudden shake and sat up a bit further, turning to look at you.
“Want me to stay?” He asked, tilting his head, and you glanced up. “In case he..comes back?”
You chewed your bottom lip and glanced towards the front door. It would be nice to have backup. Especially attractive backup.
“I‘ll sleep on the couch.” He offered, raising his brows, and you were surprised by how fast you said no.
“It’s safer if we’re together.” You told him, ignoring the blush rising onto your face.
You were surprised to see him turning slightly red as well; you’d known him for a while now, had spent multiple days a week popping into each other’s apartments—hell, he’d slept in your hospital bed with you. He’d been shy at first, almost awkward, but he’d grown comfortable with you. Confident even, sometimes even cocky when he joked around with you. But now his face was flushed, his brown eyes warm as he looked down at you.
“I suppose that’s a smart point.” He mused, a lazy grin that made your heart drop into your stomach pulling onto his face.
And you couldn’t help it. You reached for him, tugging his face down to your own, and pressed your mouth to his. He leaned into you eagerly, his heart racing as fast as your own, as he tugged up, pulling you into his lap. You settled around him and kissed him hard, your fingers slipping into his dark hair.
“So did you—” he gasped against your mouth. “like the movie?”
You laughed and tugged on a piece of his hair, making him grin. He wrapped his arms around your back as you held his face in your hands, brushing your tongue lightly into his mouth. At the feel of you he whined softly, making you jolt away.
“Excuse me?” You asked, raising a brow as he flushed. “None of that. It makes me feel things.”
“What kinds of things?” He teased, but he was clearly embarrassed, so you pretended to think, even as you scooted farther into his lap and pressed fully against him.
“Things you aren’t allowed to do in horror movies if you want to live.”
Ethan rolled his eyes and tugged you into him, his mouth claiming your own. This time it was his tongue, his fingers gripping you, that made you sigh.
-
When you woke, an arm thrown over your head and the other tucked against your chest, you felt the growing familiarity of the body pressed against you in bed. You let out a moaning noise as you stretched, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep, but you felt Ethan’s arm tighten around your waist.
“What did we say…” he mumbled, voice low and sleepy. “about those types of noises?”
You giggled sleepily and wiggled a little, allowing him to tug you closer under the covers. Your eyes slid shut as his mouth began placing slow, lazy kisses on the back and side of your neck, murmuring tiny compliments onto your skin.
“I like you.” He said, voice still quiet. “A lot.”
You smiled and snuggled closer, impossibly close, tangling one of your legs with his own.
“I like you too, E.”
hellooooo continue commenting for part three!
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anakinsdove · 2 months
Text
𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜 𝐦𝐞 | 𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐤𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫
pairing: anakin skywalker x fem!reader
summary: you and anakin arranged a date in your apartment tonight… yes like a normal couple.
c/w: fluff, (and a little bit angsty) ani is in love and so are you, dates dates dates, movie night.
discord - twitter: anakinsdove
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𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! 。゚゚・。・゚゚。 ゚。Love you
𝘄/𝗰 - 2,819
“So you’re free tonight right?” “Yes” Anakin confirms for the millionth time today… it’s not your fault tho, you just wanna make sure this evening goes exactly as planned, it’s not every night you can arrange a date with your boyfriend though it’s exactly what you and him want, but after all, you’re not a normal couple, he’s a Jedi and not to mention dating it’s forbidden for Jedis, he’s also very busy… you pull at his hair excitedly and he hisses a little. “Wait! What movie are we watching?” You ask, and he nuzzles his face in your chest “Not Bribery” “Is that the one about the alien that-” “Yes that one” “It’s a good movie though” “Of course it’s not” your eyes widen at his disrespect…
“I can’t believe you actually said that” “it’s true” you grumble quietly and he chuckles… his eyes remain closed when he suddenly hears his communicator beeping “Is that-” he groans and answers
“Anakin, you must’ve report to the temple immediately” it’s obi wan “Be right there master” there’s clearly annoyance in his voice, and his heart sinks at your disappointed expression written all over your pretty face… “Hey… the sooner I go the sooner I’ll be back okay?” You can only nod already accepting that the date night is already canceled, you think it’s really selfish wanting to keep him all to yourself, after all he’s a Jedi, he saves lives, he does it for the republic, he does it everyday, why can’t you have him for a couple of hours?
“Look love… don’t worry, you go and get yourself all dolled up, I promise the date isn’t cancelled okay?” You can only hope it’s true… you think it’ll be more painful to get yourself ready and having to take your pretty dress off, make up and hairstyle, later when he never shows up than to accept it now, but he’s making you a promise and he will keep it
“I’ll be waiting” you say and kiss his cheek, he grins at this and closes the door and hear from the other side “I’ll be here at 9:00” you nod forgetting he can’t see you…
5:45 PM
There’s a lot left to do, but where to start? Is the real question, you decide to start with cleaning around a little bit, you move the couch only to find Anakin’s beanie you knitted for him Anakin you grumbled angrily “It’s in my drawer I’m sure” he said a while ago when you questioned him why he didn’t wear it anymore… a few minutes later everything is done and the next step is to start dolling yourself up, you want this to be special and none of your dresses seem to match your expectation… too pink, too red, too elegant, too informal, wrong print? too short? I don’t think that would bother Anakin at all but it bothers you for some reason, it’s like your first date all over again, the butterflies, the anxiety and the unbelievable excitement… it was a great date, considering his padawan braid got stuck in your necklace, you cringe at the memory.
After what feels like an eternity you pick a dress… it’s beautiful purple and it has the “right” length, deciding to ignore the complete disaster you made in your closet, buuuuut now… your nails don’t match the stupid dress! Trying to grab your pretty lilac nail polish a knocking the rest of your make up over, you gasp when you hear your eyeshadow palette breaking and see pigment on the ground “oh no” the sadness in your voice equals to a kicked puppy, you kneel on the ground to dust it away.. it was your favorite palette, the pretty and expensive one, whimpering when you throw it in the trash.
Now you’re painting your nails sad and not even doing it right, there’s nail polish all over your fingers… what the fuck? The shower will take care of it
7:09 PM
Fuck! Everything it’s taking longer than usual, you haven’t even showered yet!
You undress yourself and get in a little bit too quick, the water is still cold, it makes you wince, but there’s not enough time and Anakin said he would be here at 9:00… your makeup, take out, your outfit, the candles? It’s not that you can’t do anything right it’s just that the excitement bubble you feel in your stomach betrays you and turns into anxiety. He would be happy to spend an evening with you in the sand just to be by your side, Anakin wouldn’t notice the small details that make you pull your hair, or maybe he would and wouldn’t even care, or maybe he would care-
8:54 PM
The rest of your routine goes slightly more smoothly, everything is set and now you’re just waiting for Anakin to arrive, you sigh and pray that everything goes as planned from now on.
9:01
9:07
9:15
9:23
9:28
Since when is your couch so big? And why do you feel the clock is ticking too loud for your liking? Your dress feels so tight and then is inevitable… You feel the familiar sensation of tears welling up in your eyes “You think it’ll be more painful to get yourself ready and having to take your pretty dress off, make up and hairstyle, later when he never shows up than to accept it now, but he’s making you a promise and he will keep it”
But then there’s an urgent knocking on your door, one that you could’ve never mistake, the kind of knocking that wants to take the stupid door down and your practically jump from the couch and sprint towards the door, opening it with shaky hands… And there he is… he’s frowning and gripping the bouquet of flowers in his hands anxiously, already damaging the wrapper that holds it together. “Y/n” he says breathlessly and he immediately stops when he notices the tears in your eyes.
Your eyes switch to his face to his eyes lips then the bouquet, taking all of him so you can remember this later, his robes are muddy “Ani-" he places the flowers at a nearby table and instantly takes your face in his hands “What’s the matter doll?” He asks and wipes your tears away.. it actually makes you melt.
“I thought you weren’t coming” Your voice comes out small and you feel a little sad for not trusting him from the begging, he promised he would be here and here he is…. “I’m sorry for being so late Y/N I- the mission was- it’s not important” “Are you okay?” You ask, he gives you a small smile and nods “Everything is alright, everyone as well” you sigh in relief “That’s good my love, congrats” you hug him, he’s still sad at the sight of your dried tears on your cheeks, but at least your mascara is still intact.
“You sure that’s all?” Your grip around him tightens as you hide your face in the crook of his neck, suddenly your struggles from earlier don’t seem like a big deal after his own deal being a Jedi is responsibility aswell. “I almost messed up our date?” “Huh? And why’s that love?” And you finally look up at him “I dunno… it’s silly”
“It can’t be silly if it bothered you enough to make you cry” you want to argue and say It is but he might be right and you don’t know better “First I found out you did loose the scarf I made you-” “Where is it!?” He asks excitedly “Then I didn’t like any of my dresses… it took me forever, then my nails wouldn’t match my dress and I dropped my eyeshadow palette-“ “The pretty one with the pink tones?” “Yes, that one” “Aw, I’m sorry doll” “It’s okay… then I got in the shower and the water was freezing and then you wouldn’t show up!” Anakin cringes at the last part and you continue “I-I’m sorry, all of this sounds really stupid compared to any kind of problem you face daily as Jedi-” “Normal” “Huh?” “Your problems are… are normal… I like normal” “Oh… You do?” “Of course Y/N… after dealing with the war everyday and the council… this, this is exactly what I need” you chuckle “Well it’s always a pleasure to be ordinary enough for you” “I didn’t mean it like that-” “I know” you giggle… “I wish our life would be this domestic sometimes, can you imagine? You, me and two little mini you running around the house?” Children… he’s thinking about children, that gives you a reality check, any silly doubt you might have about your relationship is gone just like that because he’s actually dreaming about a life with you, and you wouldn’t prefer any different.
“I would love that” you say sincerely… “They would have your eyes and my hair…. Your eyebrows” He traces them delicately “And maybe my personality, one each” that makes you beam “I can’t wait” “Me neither” He takes your face in his hands and kisses you sweetly… it’s nice and delicate, he hums in the kiss and takes the chance to slide his tongue in his mouth, you suck at it softly and after a few seconds you pull away only to find the completely head over heels gaze he’s giving you.
“You’re all muddy” you say “I didn’t see the hole in the ground-” you shake your head in disbelief and take his hand in yours to guide him to your bathroom “It was Obi wan’s fault!” Now.. how could that possibly be Obi wan’s fault? But you let him ramble. “Undress” you say
“Oh you would’ve loved that wouldn’t you?” he teases and you punch him in the shoulder jokingly. He starts taking his robes off while you start filling the tub, the water is warm this time and you pour a little of your lavander soap in “Hey i thought you wanted a show” he says teasingly, because you made him undress and you didn’t even watch… that’s a shame honestly. “Get in baby” he can’t resist you or a warm bath when needed.
The water is instantly soothing for his aching muscles… he groans and tilts his head back, opening his eyes to find you looking at him adoringly “Thank you my love” he says and you lean in to kiss his cheek “You’re very welcome Ani” you throw him your old rubber duck in he laughs, he closes his eyes and sighs, he couldn’t ask for anything better in life… his eyes remain closed for a few seconds “C’mon Baby don’t pass out… you could’ve drown” “Mmm I know you wouldn’t let me” “Don’t be so sure” he opens his eyes wide and you cackled. “Close your eyes” you say “Make up your mind” he teases but does as you say, You take a small recipient with warm water and pour it over his head, gently soaking his curls, he tilts his head forward like a child, then you pour some of the apple shampoo on your hand, you figured out he liked the scent and you start gently massaging his scalp and smile when you see bubbles, his eyes peaked open to look at your loving and concentrating expression, he’s melting but when your nails escaped along his scalp he purrs… the night goes on and when you’re done washing his hair and his bubble bath is over he turns the shower on to wash his body… you wait for him with a fluffy bath towel, he smiles when he sees you and he wraps himself in it.
He follows you into your bedroom where he find a pair of his sweatpants he keeps in here, the sweater you knitted for him, a pair of your fluffy socks and clean boxers, he gives you a grateful smile… when he’s done he wraps his arms around you and you lean on him as he rubs your back “You’re a little tense hun” “Whaaat? No I’m” “Lay down” you look up at him with puppy eyes “Lay down on your stomach c’mon” And who are you to complain when Anakin Skywalker gives an order.
You lay down on the bed and he takes your heels off and kisses up your calf, and okay you weren’t completely lying, you’re still not completely sure you’re actually tense and that Anakin only wants an excuse to touch you, but his touch already feels amazing… “M’sorry I didn’t say it earlier but you look absolutely beautiful, every single detail about you is perfect” that means a lot to you “Thank you… You’re So Perfect-” he starts kissing down you back covering your spine with kisses, his hands find the zip or your dress “Gonna unzip your dress okay? I’m gonna take it off” “Yeah” you say already agreeing with anything he says, he chuckles, his hand unzips your dress nice and slow while his eyes trace every detail of your back… moles, marks, tattoos, anything… wait that looks like a constellation… he takes the dress off leaving you only in your bra and panties “This too” he pulls at your bra and you roll your eyes not annoyed at all “alright” he instantly unclasps your bra and you lift yourself so he can take it off, his touch is gentle when he slides the straps down your shoulders… his gaze lingers on your chest and you giggle “My massage” “Oh! Right” He pushes your on your stomach again, his hands dig into your shoulder blades and you make a little sound when his metal hand touches your back, it’s cold and it feels good for some reason “There’s a knot here” he says and pushes deeper to massage your skin, you moan and his ears perk up at the sound but he pushes those thoughts to the back of his head for your own sake and his “Ani… that feels really good” “I know” he says cockily and keeps working his magic, suddenly his hands grip your ass and you gasp “You’re tense here too” he massages the skin and you actually think you’re muscles are grateful… the feeling want to make your thighs squeeze Not now You think.
10 minutes later he’s done and you’re actually sleepy, he takes one of your sweaters out of your drawer and you try to put it on but he does it for you, unfortunately his hand tickles your ribs and you giggle, he looked at you with pure adoration in his eyes… “Would you like to watch a movie” he kisses your neck and you close your eyes “Sure!” You beam, “Okay… I’ll make the pop corn” he keeps kissing you and you think he might never stop and make the damn pop corn, though you’re not sure you want him to stop you whimper and your breathing heaves “I’ll go now… promise” however he keeps kissing you and you take the chance to tickle his ribs, he cackles and takes the queue to leave.
You realize you still have makeup on your face and you curse at yourself, feeling lazy to take it off but going to the bathroom and washing your face no matter how much you wanna eat pop corn and get into his arms you want.. he comes back 5 minutes later with the bowl of pop corn and two drinks… you beam at the sight of snacks and he chuckles “Are you happy to see me or the popcorn?” “Both”
“We’re watching Bribery” you say simply “Whatever” he says clearly not happy with your choice but happier nonetheless to be here, he thinks it’s cute how much you like this shitty movie… you nuzzle into his arms and 40 minutes later you’re starting to fall asleep.
“It’s time to sleep love” “Nuh uh” you say with your eyes already closed “What why not?” He asks curiously, your body says otherwise
“You still haven’t fucked me, date night it’s not over” you say boldly and he cackles
“It’s alright love, I’ll promise I’ll fuck you in the morning”
“Promise?”
“Promise”
He stays up for a little after you fell asleep, admiring your features and tracing them gently with his knuckle, careful to not harm you, to not wake you up or disturb you in any way “I love you… more than anything in the entire universe…” something sparked inside him watching your sleep so vulnerable and with your guard completely down, trusting him completely.. “And I would never let something bad happen to you…” he kisses your forehead and stares at you with pure adoration in his eyes… he truly loves you… he tries to find a word bigger than that to state his love for you but the sleepiness is finally getting to him too…
“G’night” he mutters and lastly kisses your nose.
masterslist 𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗱𝗼𝘃𝗲 © --- all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/ copying will be tolerated.
dividers- @i92-93
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Text
Second Best 3
Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
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.
Characters: Lee Bodecker
Summary: The newly-single sheriff sets his eye on an unexpected match.
Part of the Backwoods AU
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.
Your shift comes to an end and you heave a sigh of relief as you leave the hotel. You’re tired and slightly irritated. That guest Thor mentioned wasn’t friendly when you dropped of fresh towels. Not even a thank you.
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Oh well, you’re free now. To do… absolutely nothing. Your agitation grows. Usually you’d call up Greta and waste time together but you’re not doing that anymore.
So what do you do? Go home and sew? Watch some soap operas with your mom? Maybe you could go for a nice walk…
Sure. Your feet are sore from your shift, you wouldn’t make it very far. You huff and roll your eyes. You’ll just hang out in your room or whatever. It’s par for the course in Hammer Ford.
You come to the bottom of Thunder Lane and turn onto one of the longer country roads. Your parents’ house isn’t terribly far, not when the weather is nice. You grip the strap of your slouch bag and yawn. A nap is tempting but with you’re luck, you’ll oversleep and end up awake all night.
The noise of an engine and mulching tires approaches. You don’t look back as you sidle over on the apron. There’s more than enough room for them to pass, you always make sure of that. Yet, you notice how the vehicle slows and the bumper pokes out just along your peripheral. As you walk on, the car keeps a snailish pace with you.
You glance over and withhold a cringe. Just what you need. The sheriff rolls down his window as he taps on the gas. He hooks his elbow through the door as he keeps his other hand on the wheel.
“Hey, darlin’, need a ride?” He drawls.
“No thanks, sheriff,” you turn your head straight and pick up your pace.
“You ain’t live far, I can drop ya off no problem.”
“Like you said, it’s not too far,” you agree, adjusting your grip on your bag.
He snickers as the gravel grits beneath the tracks of his tires, “I see,” he keeps his slow crawl, “you one of those ladies who don’t need no man, huh?”
“I… guess,” you shrug, keeping your eyes ahead of you.
“How’s that? Don’t you live with your daddy?”
You wince. That’s a low blow, even if it is true.
“Sure do,” you answer dully.
“I’m not sayin’ it to embarrass you, I’m just wonderin’,” he coaxes, “don’t mean nothing at all.”
“Thank you, sheriff.”
“You gonna look at me, huh?”
You peek over again. You don’t say a word as you keep walking. He watches you as you watch him. His gaze makes your blood run cold.
“Come on, get in,” he says.
You frown, “I said, I’m fine.”
“You sure are stubborn,” he clucks, “I thought an old man like yours would teach ya some respect.”
You face the horizon again, keeping one foot in front of the other, “I haven’t been disrespectful, sir.”
He huffs and doesn’t respond. You press on as he pulls ahead. You watch him drive off, picking up speed as he rolls away. You exhale and bite your cheek. That was weird.
You watch him stop just down the way and reverse. He veers his back bumper around and swerves back to face you. He must’ve got a call. You don’t think too much of it. He slams on the gas, revving back in your direction.
He gets closer and closer. You expect him to drive past but you realise, he isn’t following the lines. He’s driving right at you!
You stagger and jump to the side. You hurdle yourself off the apron across the ditch and hit the grass on your knees. Your bag swings up over your shoulder and weighs you down. You twist onto your ass and pant at him as he stops just short of the divet in the ground.
He laughs through the open window as he flicks his lights on and his siren whoops, sending your heart to lurch again. You scramble back on your hands and stand up shakily. He backs up again and steers the car straight.
“Better be careful on the backroads,” he idles just across the ditch from you, “lotta careless drivers around here.”
You gape at him. He didn’t just try to kill you. He wouldn’t. He’s the sheriff. And for what? Because you didn’t want to go with him and Greta? Or because you didn’t want a ride?
“See ya round, darlin’,” he taunts and spins the wheel, speeding off in the other direction. His tires kick up rocks and send a cloud of dust into the air behind him.
You reach down to wipe off your pants and try to shake off the adrenaline. You still can’t believe what just happened. It just doesn’t make sense.
You sniff and look around. It’s just you, out in the middle of nowhere. He did all that but he could have done more. You’re lucky he didn’t.
You stay on the far side of the ditch, edging close to the trees as you set back towards home. You’ll cut through the forest, just to be sure. You’d almost rather face a black bear than chance another run-in with the sheriff.
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buck-nialled · 7 months
Text
Overboard - N. Horan Blurb
note: damn it feels good to be a gangster writing again holy moly does anybody still follow this account? summary: niall goes overboard for your birthday this year. (inspired by a similar event that happened for my actual birthday a couple of weeks ago). pairing: niall x gn!reader warnings: none wc: 507
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“Hello there lover, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Niall’s voice was extra chipper when answering your phone call. The stares and whispers around the office all in credit to your (normally spacious) desktop being dwarfed by edible arrangements, extravagant floral displays, foil balloons, teddy bears, and small white note cards all with a single culprit’s signature printed at the bottom; each new thing pointed out by one of your colleagues makes the growing heat behind your cheeks that much hotter.
It’s safe to say your husband’s tone isn’t due to his morning cup of tea.
“Niall, what the hell?” You demand in a hiss.
“Woah, woah! What’s with the use of my government name? Where’s this sudden aggression coming from?” He’s playing coy, but all you can hear through the phone is how big his smile is growing.
“I don’t know, why don’t you tell me?” Did he want to play coy? You could play the part just as well. He’s quiet and it's obvious that you’ve cornered him in his own trap.
“Just tell me, do you like the roses or lilies better? Because I was fightin’ day and night with myself on what to surprise you with.” His accent grows thicker in his question, and it leaves you frozen with the exception of a few hard blinks.
“So instead of choosing one flower, you decided to open a whole gift shop on my desk at work?” You pluck one of the plush toys teetering on the corner and cringe at the high voice that emanates from it. “I love you bear-y much!”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” You sigh with a shake of your head. At this point, you were finding it hard to keep your smile at bay. Each new detail you noticed encouraged the knots in your stomach to tighten and your love for the man on the phone to grow fonder.
“Who’re you telling? I didn’t know that thing talked!” Niall is now astonished by how he’d outdone himself.
“Just promise me this is all I’ll be getting today. I don’t think I can handle any more attention.” You plead.
“Well…” he starts.
“Niall…” your tone is on the fence of a warning, cueing his cheeky laugh to finally break free from his throat.
“I promise, I promise. No more surprises.” The reassurance he offers you is short-lived, though. Because the next thing you know…
“Is there a Y/N Y/L/N here?” A group of smiling patrons enters the building and is directed to you. As they march closer to where you are sitting, you can faintly make out the lettering on their shirts to be the uniform of a singing telegram service.
“Niall…” There is no room for mercy in your voice now. Your husband clears his throat.
“I should let you go, it sounds important. See you later, lover!” The phone call ends with a click and your mouth is agape as the choir proceeds into an extravagant rock ballad you would be scolding Niall for seeking out later.
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purityonice · 5 months
Note
Hiiii!!! Could you write a Autistic!Reader x Clay where the reader is like really over stimulated and Clay helps them (NB reader preferred/nf)
📗CLAY X AUSTISTIC! NB! READER
Please note that this is my first time writing an autistic character 🙏🏽 and if i made ANY mistakes please tell me in the comments and i will change it ASAP!
Clay noticed how overwhelmed you were when you went to Pop Village it was to overstimulating with all their bright lights, loud sounds were too much. So he decided taking you away from everyone would help calm you down.
You were walking with Clay he was chatting as you nodded or shook your head in response was you stimmed trying to calm yourself with this new enviroment. Looking at the ground a small ball rolled towards you too.
The ball exploded as a glitter bomb went off infront of you and clay the sound frightening you as the glitter stuck to your skin. The feeling of the glitter and the sound of the bomb going off still ringing in your ears made you shake as you ran off your hands covering your ears.
Clay tried to follow you but he was pulled away by a few trolls that sang. He felt himself fill with anger as he watched you run into the forest. Freeing himself from the trolls who looked at him confused, As he turned around and began running after you.
He ran for awhile trying to listen out for you running from place to place before hearing you wail.
He ran out of breath huffing with his hand son his knees as his eyes landed on you. You had your knees against your chest as you rocked yourself trying to settle down as glitter was scattered around you crying and wailing could be heard from you as you hit the floor beneath you.
His eyes softened as he relaxed his body his chest still jagged as he walked closer to you as you continued to cry shaking as you tried hard to scrape the glitter off of your face.
“Baby?” Clays voice was low as his chest rose and fell rapidly his eyes never leaving you as tears rolled down your face he reached out to touch you before backing away. “Right-no touching. im sorry i- got your headphones you dropped them.” He said reaching to his side to give you your headphones.
You sniffled lifting your head fron your arms are your glitter covered face looked at him with teary eyes. “T-thank you Clay.” Your voice was meek and raspy as you took your headphones from his hands and placing them on your head. The sounds of nature being drowned out by silence giving you somewhat of a relief as you continued to sway and stim rubbing your face.
“Do you want to stay here for awhile or get the glitter off of you?” Clay asked leaning against the rock his face filled with worry as you, you didnt answer him as you closed your eyes basking in the silence your face still cringing in disgust as the glitter was still on your face. “Are you okay?”
Clay was filled with concern as you calmed yourself down. A few minutes passed before you decided to leave looking into Clays worried eyes. “I’m ready to go please.” He sighed in relief sitting up from his spot on the floor dusting himself off.
You walked through the forest making your way back to the village. “I don’t think I can live here Clay… everything is to…UGH it just isnt right nothings the same and it’s so loud all the time.” You vented as Clay listened nodding his head in agreement. Drinking in your form as you walked.
“Yeah it is alot right? I don’t get why they have so much energy 24/7 it’s like having a village full of Vivas.” You both laughed at how reckless that would be. You let out a sigh before looking into your boyfriends eyes.
“T-thank you for being there for me Clay…” You trailed off hesitanting before grabbing his hands. Blushing at how warm he was. He looked at you shocked before a huge smile crawled onto his face.
Turning his head hiding his blush as you did the same. “ eh hm yeah no worries its the least i could do you know i love you alot so i’d do anything for you.” He spoke as you guys walked hand in hand together back to Pop village and to get all the glitter of off you.
After you guys got back he made sure to protect you from any more glitter bombs after that.
IM SO SO SO SORRY IF THIS IS BAD please tell me if i made any mistakes!!!!!!!
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gaysindistress · 5 months
Note
Hiya ❤️ would you maybe do buck imagine for my bday tomorrow for me? I'd really need some distraction atm. One where you have a crush on each other but of course don't talk about it. Then one night you enter the living room all dressed up for a date and buck is totally flashed by you, until you ask for his opinion for it. When he realizes this is for another guy he gets all bad mooded and leaves. Then instead of your date, you head to Buckys room and decide to finally make a move and kiss him and admit your feelings, which leads to also sleeping together and lots of cute Bucky afterwards? 🙊
Hi babes!!! Im so sorry I didn’t reply to this sooner. I wanted to wait until I finished the fic before I answered. I left it more suggestive but there’s plenty of cute Bucky!!
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Warnings: cursing and suggestive content
“I told you to stay back! Do you ever listen?” Bucky sneers when he spots a furry of black rush past him into the open courtyard.
“Yeah just not to you. I’ve learned to tune out your voice,"I plainly state back, tucking myself behind a cement pillar after making a mad dash across the courtyard.
“Would it kill you to put your ego aside for one mission? For…” he’s interrupted by the rain of bullets coming his way and he drops down to the ground, “Sam do you copy?”
“Loud and clear,” he answers through their earpieces, “It looks like there’s about five guys shooting at you. Want Redwing to take them out?”
Bucky’s nose flares at the mention of the godforsaken machine but concedes, “Cover her and I’ll do it.”
“Excuse me? I don’t need anyone’s…” a shriek cuts me short and the sound of my own bullets confirms that I do, in fact, need help and Redwing is on it within seconds, taking out the offended men.
“What was that?” Bucky tries not to sound mocking but it’s just too good of a moment to miss.
“Shove it, Barnes. You’re the one who doesn’t immediately think of his bionic arm because he’s right handed.”
“Sam you told her about that? That’s it. Both of you are fired when we get back.”
We chuckle at his false threat and focus on the task at hand; getting inside of the looming concrete building, extract the intel, and get out in one piece.
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“Sammmmmmmmmm…”
The man glances up from the book he is reading at the sound of his name being drawn out, “yesssssss y/nnnnnnn?”
“I need to talk to you,” I nervously whisper, twisting around to see if anyone is in the room. Slipping his bookmark into the book, Sam sets it down and sits back against the couch, gesturing for me to take a seat.
“I swear to god if this has to be with robo cop, your free therapy sessions will come to an end,” he teased me but comes off harsher than he intended and he cringes when my face falls.
“Oh it’s okay. I’m sorry to bother you,"I quickly try to recover the social blunder I’ve made but he grabs my wrist and tells me to sit my ass back down.
“You’re not bothering me and you know better than to take me seriously,” he gently chides me as he pulls me into his side, “what did he do now?”
Fingers twist in uncomfortable angles as I ring my hands together in my lap. Regret starts to fill me and pushes against me like the strong coastal winds, trying to shove me off of the couch and out of the room.
“Nothing. I just…I just hate it, ya know? I hate the whole shitty back and forth we have and how he’s always such an asshole but only to me. I hate that…” I trail off and lean my head on Sam’s shoulder, “I hate that I can’t just tell him how I feel. At this point just getting it off my chest is all I want; I don’t care if he feels the same. I wouldn’t even care if he rejected me, as long as I just didn’t have to live with this disgusting school girl crush.”
Sam chuckles, “have you tried talking to him?”
“We are talking about the same person here, right?”
Although I can’t see him, I can feel the eye roll and heat it in the sarcasm that drips from his voice.
“I will shove you off this couch, I’m trying to HELP you,” he jokingly pushes me away causing us to both laugh, “if you won’t talk to him, then why not move on?”
My laughter dies instantly.
Move on?
Move on?
Move fucking on?
“It’s not that simple,” I snipe at Sam and he hisses from the fake burn of my words.
“It was a suggestion. You don’t have to listen to it,” he says with mock defensiveness.
Another fit of laughter overcomes us and I fall into his lap, completely unaware of how this might look to others. That is until we hear a snort of disgust from the doorway.
The owner?
The one and only Bucky Barnes.
I scramble off of Sam and clear my throat, embarrassed that Bucky walked past.
“Come on, Sam. You can do better than her,” he says with a scowl before striding down the hallway again.
Sam’s jaw tenses and he’s muttering to himself as he stands, taking off after the super solider. He pauses at the door, “I’m sorry for him.”
“It’s fine,” I mumble but it’s not convincing enough.
“No it’s not and I’m going to kick his ass for it. And for the record I think you should at least try and date other people.”
I give him a small smile as he turns and takes off after Bucky, shouting the whole way that he better be ready to get his ass whopped.
Try and date other people.
Try and date other people.
Try and date other people.
It feels deeply wrong to even think about dating other people but Bucky clearly isn’t in a place to even hear my feelings for him.
I pull my phone out and open the most god forsaken app to ever exist; Tinder.
The profile that Yelena and Natasha helped me make has several matches and unread messages but I haven’t had the heart to respond or even open them. Scrolling aimlessly, I pick someone random and message him back.
I have to at least try no matter how loud my heart is screaming at me.
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Nelly Furtado and Megan Thee Stallion have been on repeat for the last three maybe four hours. I’m sure everyone is annoyed and would be banging on my door, shouting at me to turn it off if Sam hadn’t told literally every single person in the tower that I had a date. Tony clapped me on the shoulder, congratulating me for getting out there while Yelena and Natasha demanded to know every detail about this mystery man. I promised Sam that I wouldn’t forget this and he better be ready to lose next time we spar during training. His usual smile dropped as the fear of god struck him. Well the fear of ME struck him.
Smoothing my dress down, I cock my head at my reflection in the mirror. I have to admit that I look stunning in the simple fitted dress that Natasha practically ordered I wear. It’s a tie dye pattern of cream and red with thin straps and a scoop neckline that shows off the star pendant necklace that Tony and Pepper gave me when I first moved in. A “welcome to the tower and good luck” gift as he put it with a teasing smile. Simple hoops line my ears and two matching bracelets adore my wrists however the simplicity of my outfit feels over the top. I’d changed my shoes about 40 times and settled on a pair of tan platform sandals but something is nagging at me to change again.
I check the time and curse under my breath when I see that I need to leave in 5 minutes, which certainly isn’t enough time to change everything. The thought of canceling occurs to me but I know I’ll never hear the end of it.
Checking my reflection one last time, I grab my phone and shove it in my purse before leaving my room. Normally I’d be able to tell if someone was in the common living room but I’m too distracted by hyping myself up for this date to notice that there is someone sitting on the couch.
A certain asshole who never fails to piss me off but also makes me fall for him even more to be exact.
I come to a halt when I feel his presence and duck behind the wall, praying he didn’t see me. Peaking my head out, I’m relieved that he hasn’t and my heart clenches at the sight. Bucky looks so peaceful sitting on the couch dressed in a hoodie and joggers with a well loved book in his lap. Although his hood is pulled up, his ruffled hair peeks out, having grown longer and longer with each passing day. When I first met him, he was damn near bald with his short cropped hair but he’s let it grow long enough that he has to push it back every now and again. I jokingly offered him a hair tie during training one day after I saw how frustrated he was getting with it. He snatched it from me with a grumble and sported a unicorn hair for the remainder of training. Sometimes I think I see that black hair tie on his wrist but he’s all too eager to get away from me for me to properly look.
“I can feel you staring, pervert,” his voice cracks from not being used in hours and I flinch at the sudden noise.
“I’m not staring,” I weakly mumble and step back into the living room.
He hasn’t looked up from his book, still reading the pages as he speaks to me, “yes you were.”
I roll my eyes and stick my tongue out at him which of course, he somehow sees. It’s beyond me how he can literally sense everything except for my feelings towards him.
His piercing eyes flicker up at me for a brief moment and back to his book before doing a double take.
“Where are you going?”
His question catches me off guard and I scowl at him, “what are you? My dad?”
His jaw twitches but he says nothing.
Satisfied that I got the best of him, I push my luck and ask him, “how do I look? Would you want to go on a date with me?”
Apparently that’s a big fucking mistake because he’s up and storming out of the room like a fucking child without a single word.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mumble under my breath and go after him, “Barnes! I asked you a question, don’t you know it’s rude to storm off and not answer when someone asks you something?”
The behemoth of a man still says nothing as he continues to stomp down the hall.
“Bucky!” I shout at him and he stills right at his door. His left hand is gripping his door knob and I can hear it crumble under its strength. He doesn’t turn to look at me. No no he turns his head just enough to side eye me as he spits out, “fuck off, Y/N.”
The use of my first name takes me back. He never calls me y/n, not even when he’s furious with me for not falling orders. It’s always my last name, Agent, or some rude nickname and on very rare occasions when he’s flirting with me to be a dick, doll.
“Excuse me?” I scoff at him, crossing my arms over my chest.
“I said fuck off,” he grits out as he rips the door open and tries to slam it shut but my hand stops him.
“You don’t get to talk to me like that, no matter how much you hate me. What is your deal anyways? All I did was ask if you liked my outfit which shouldn’t matter to you anyways,” I tell him as I shove into his room. It’s his turn to be taken aback and he stumbles backwards when I push through.
“You’ve made it very clear that you despise me and I, for the life of me, cannot figure out why,” my pent up frustration and anger come spilling out as I continue to tell him off, “I was nothing but kind and friendly when I first got here but you? You were a dick from day one and only to me! You didn’t treat Yelena or even fucking Sharon that way. It was just me and it got worse! Oh my god it’s gotten so much worse and whether or not you want to believe it, I’m a person who has feelings! I can’t even begin to count how many times I’ve cried in the shower because of you. It got so bad that I would cry myself to sleep like a fucking idiot and someone had to sit with me until I fell asleep so I wouldn’t throw myself into a goddamn panic attack. Poor Sam almost moved in because he was the only one that could calm me down. Did you know that?”
He’s staring at me with wide eyes but not a single emotion crosses over them. It makes me unbelievably angry that my outburst doesn’t even phase him.
So I keep going, “and you want to know the worst part? The day I got here, Tony was showing me around and he brought me into the kitchen where everyone was eating. You were there, flirting with Sam just to piss him off but you looked so happy. You were laughing and smiling so much that Tony, fucking Tony made a comment about how that was the happiest he’d seen you in a while. You hadn’t seen us yet but when you did, you gave me that charming Brooklyn smile and it was all over for me. From that single smile, I knew I was screwed because I’d caught feelings for you. Not that it mattered though because within a matter of hours, you lost that smile and were so awful. I tried so hard to make you like me but nothing. If anything it made you hate me even more but no matter what, I’ve always had these…feelings for you that I don’t want anymore. I don’t want to look at you and feel my heart breaking because you don’t feel the same way. I don’t want to pick apart every person I talk to because they’re not you and I hate that they’re not. I don’t want to cry to Sam about how it feels like a piece of me is dying when I’m not around you but you want nothing to do with me. I don’t want to feel like this anymore, Bucky. I can’t… I can’t feel like this.”
By the end of my confession, the tears I swore I would never shed again have fallen. They ruin the makeup I spent an hour putting on, pretending it was a date with Bucky because thinking about Miguel makes my skin crawl. I know I look like a mess but I don’t care. I’ve said my peace finally and while it’s embarrassing and I know I’ll regret it later, it’s done. Maybe now I can move on or at least find comfort in knowing that I won’t have to face Bucky again and live with these disgusting unrequited feelings.
He’s still said nothing, hasn’t moved or otherwise acknowledged that he’s heard me. He just stands there, staring at me with a clenched jaw and completely still. The only noises that fill his room are my sniffles and the subtle whirring of his arm as he clenches his hands into fists.
Of course he wouldn’t say anything. Why would he? It’s not surprising but hurtful regardless because I would’ve hoped he’d find a shred of kindness to show me under all of that hatred.
I shake my head as I turn to leave, unable to deal with him and with the fact that I’m now late for my date. My phone buzzes and I’m greeted with a rather rude message from Miguel about how unattractive it is that I’m late and didn’t even give him a heads up. It takes everything in me to not scream as loud as I can and throw my phone against the wall. Instead I settle for angrily shoving it back into my purse while more than a few foul words fall from my lips.
A cold metal hand clasps onto my wrist as I pull open the door and I look down at it in shock.
“I don’t know what to say,” Bucky whispers, his grip gentle but inescapable all the same. I want to tear myself away but he’s touching me. My heart begins to pound at the connection between us and I let out a shuttered breath.
“You can start by apologizing for how you talked to me,” I manage to say with a voice that is steadier than my breathing.
“I’m sorry, doll. Not just for that but for everything. I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I’m sorry I made you cry and made you think I hated you. I’m sorry I ever treated you the way that I did. No one deserves that and especially not you,” he says in a low voice while slowly closing the distance between us. His hand slides up my arm until it rests on my bicep and he asks for me to come closer too with a soft squeeze.
“I know actions are louder than words and if you’ll let me, I will do anything you ask of me to make it up to you. All you have to do is ask, doll and I swear I’ll do it,” his voice cracks with emotions that I never thought he could feel. Tears brim his eyes as he looks at me with such hope that I feel my own threaten to start falling again.
“No,” it shocks me just as much as it shocks him. His hand loosens and falls to his side.
“No,” I breathe out, “I can’t…that’s….Bucky I just admitted that I’m in love with you and that’s all you have to say? I appreciate the effort but it’s not…no it’s not enough.”
“You’re in love with me?”
Disbelief laces his words and I let out a scoff because he can’t be fucking serious right now.
“Don’t… don’t make me say it,” I stammer over my words as my sobs get caught in my throat.
He blinks at me for a moment before repeating it more to himself than me, “you’re in love with me.”
I wait with bated breath as he processes the revelation. He takes a sudden step forward and I take one back out of habit. Pain explodes onto his face as he steps back again and I swear to god I’ve never felt my heart break as much as it is now.
“Don’t play with my emotions, Bucky,” I hiss, the words harsher than I intend
“Jesus fuck,” he mutters while running a hand through his hair, “do you really think I’d do something like that?”
An answer materializes on my tongue but I can’t say it and he learns it from the struggle in my eyes.
“Wow, I…I can’t believe that you think that low of me.”
“No, I don't because I think the world of you.”
He shakes his head, “don’t play with my emotions either, doll.”
“Considering that I don’t know what they are most of the time, I don’t think I could even if I tried.”
There’s a shift in the tension and I can’t place what. Bucky straightens his shoulders and looks at me with a new intensity. He attempts another step in my direction and when I don’t back away, he begins to prowl towards me.
“I’m not good with words.”
“Trust me I’m aware.”
“I haven’t been able to think about my own wants and needs until recently.”
He backs me into the door but stays a foot or so away from me.
“Where are you going with this?” My voice is whinier than I’d hoped and I pray to god he doesn’t notice.
But he does and the smile that hooked me in the first place overtakes his face.
“Anywhere you want me to, doll. If you want me to give you space, I’ll give it to you even though it’ll break me,” he whispers seriously, “If you want me to grovel until we’re both old and forget why, I’ll gladly get on my knees for you right now. If you want me to show you how I feel, all you have to do is say yes.”
Hesitation creeps up on me because I know what I want and what I want is not what I need.
“Yes.”
Bucky takes the final steps and pins me against the door, both arms caging me in so I have nowhere to go. My hands fly up to his shoulders as he leans in, not quite letting our lips touch.
“I’m in love with you too,” he whispers against my lips before his descends upon mine. I half expected him to devour me but it’s unhurried, slow and languid as our lips move in sync. I can feel his love in the way that his tongue slides against my bottom lip before slipping in. He’s gentle with me as his hands move to cradle my head and pull me impossibly closer. He's apologizing for the tears and angst I’ve felt as my phone rings and he silences it without breaking our kiss. He’s showing that he’ll spend as long as it takes to show his love for me as he urges me to wrap my legs around his waist and takes me to his bed.
My phone rings again and he lets out a frustrated growl as he breaks our kiss to answer it. He rolls his eyes at the name that flashes and presses the answer button with a little too much aggression.
“Hello?”
I can’t hear what Miguel says but Bucky’s replies are very clear.
“This is her boyfriend.”
“Since when? Since right fucking now.”
He hangs up and tosses my phone to the other side of his bed.
“Boyfriend, huh?” I tease however it falls short when he dips his head to my neck, licking and sucking at my skin.
“Have a problem with it, doll?”
“Not at all.”
260 notes · View notes
oonajaeadira · 6 months
Note
i was rereading a GTTT chapter and Patricio has just been in my mind rent free, creeping in from daydreams in places i should not be daydreaming. So I’ve got a PATS question for you. How would Patricio and Reader navigate the issue of him being too drained sexually when Reader is needy?
Hello, lovely.
First of all, I want to apologize for the long hiatus I've taken on Pats and Pres. This ask--and many more--have been sitting in my inbox for far too long and I'd like to think that answering late is better than never. Thank you for your patience with me!!!
This is a very interesting question and it sparked some over-arching thoughts. I have half an answer for you here--from his point of view, and therefore the "drained" part of it. Pres may not seem too needy here, but look to the next installment for more on that.
Also, a non-apology here to everyone.
For so long I've made you believe that Patricio is confident, in control...or at least in denial about it when he's not. But he's growing. Changing. There may be more vulnerability here than you want and much less sexy times. Not everyone has a good day every day.
Kiss and Tell: Everyone's Allowed a Bad Day (GTTT PATS)
FANDOM: Calls - Apple TV (PATS is a character from ep. 3. “Pedro Across the Street.” This is not RPF.)
As with all of my PATS installments, warnings abound for explicit content. (This one's much tamer than most.)
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(gif by cavill-henry)
It’s nights like these that he sometimes wished he smoked. He’ll pour himself a drink once the client wakes up and leaves, but he doesn’t want her to catch it on his breath.
Bourbon. Bath. Bed. Maybe something short and calm on streaming. There’s a new cowboy film just dropped by that Spanish director looks good. 
Leaning on the kitchen counter and staring out across the silent living room, he contemplates the novel you left on the coffee table. Wonders if you’re missing it.
It occurs to him that he could call you. He can do that now. He doesn’t need a reason anymore, but even if the reason is a rough day…actually, maybe that’s even more reason to call you. In fact, he really should ask you–
His phone vibrates on the countertop and he frowns. It’s your pattern and his heart races a little, not only because it’s you, but thinking he’s been lost in thought too long, that he’s missed the three-hour mark. But a flip of the phone shows him he’s got 20 minutes to go. 
Odd. It’s not like you to interrupt a session.
“Hey, muñeca, everything okay?” he mumbles, stepping barefoot out onto the front porch in nothing but his sweatpants.
Your voice sounds far away, “Oh shit,” before a riffling sound and then a clearer, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hit dial. I didn’t know I did. I was going to call and then I saw the time…I know you’re in the middle of a session, oh loverboy I’m so sorry–”
Just the sound of your voice is an instant balm. “It’s okay, it’s okay, she’s sleeping. I was actually just thinking about calling you.”
“Oh, really?” There’s something there behind your fluster, hiding among the smile in your voice, something that he might not have noticed if you hadn’t said you meant to call.
“Something you wanted to call me about?”
There’s a sound in the background. An announcement. You’re in public. “Um, no, not really. I just had a lonely moment, that’s all.”
“Well that’s an ego boost. You wanna come spend the night?”
There’s a pause. Shocked, judging by your voice. “Really? On an appointment night?”
He scratches his head and focuses on his feet as he aimlessly paces the porch. “Sure. I mean, if like a quarter after ten isn’t too late for you to drive just to go to bed.”
“With the weather shifting and how warm you run? It’s never too late to say yes to a heated bed.”
He smiles. “Glad I can be of service.” There's silence from you and he cringes. “Shit. Not you– not– Was that a bad choice of word?”
“No. It’s just–”
“Hey. I want you here tonight. I wanna talk to you.” Another silence. He supposes that sounds ominous. It shouldn’t. “You know, here. Not…on a phone.” He’s still not good at this. 
“That sounds nice…. You, uh, need anything? I’m at the grocery store.”
“No. Just you.” It feels good to say. Right. It’s what’s needed to break what feels like an odd tension into a few comfortable, mutually smiling moments. “So. The grocery store. And you’re feeling lonely. At a grocery store.”
Your laughter--hushed but musical--is kept close to the phone. “Well I am standing in produce and they just got in some preeeeeetty nice looking eggplants.”
“Wow.”
Another laugh, less hushed, throatier. “Okay, I’m sorry! I’ll let you get back to your work. I assume you’ve got a sleeping beauty to wake up.”
Pulling the phone away from his face for a timecheck, he winces. “Yeah. I’ll see you in 20?”
“I’d say I can’t wait, but you know that I will.”
Wow. “I know and I…”Something sweet twists inside. “I know.”
After you hang up he stands a minute more on the porch in the dark. The leaves are almost all off the trees now, the crickets are gone. His feet are freezing and the skin on his torso is goosebumping; doing its best–and failing–to lift his fine hairs to shield him from the autumn chill. But it’s far from unpleasant and he finds that he’s awake for the sensation in a way he hasn’t been in a while.
He’s alive again in a way he hasn’t been in a while.
The last couple of months have been…nothing short of amazing.
He should tell you that. He should say it.
But he’s got to get to that point where…he accepts it. 
Not the relationship…the fact that there’s always a possibility it’s too good to be true, that he could lose it. He could lose you.
You’re handling everything so well, but for how long? How long until you make him choose?
Oh fuck, please don’t make me choose, preciosa, please.
The phone buzzes in his hand. Timer; no need to look, just thumbs the button to silence. On another night, he’d allow himself more time, let the client sleep while he mused. But he’s got a job to do. 
And someone special arriving soon.
So he packs these thoughts away and goes quietly inside to prepare.
________
He’s just poured the detergent in the washing machine when he hears the door open. “Hey, I’m just cleaning up, gimme a second.”
Out in the entry, your shoes clatter on the floor and then your keys jingle on the kitchen counter and before he knows it you’re on him, topless and crowding him against the washing machine, kissing him like he’s just come back from war. It’s jarring but pleasant and full of hungry sighs…until there’s a ping in his calf muscle.
“Ooh, hey, Pres, hey hey, hang on.” Taking your face in his hands he calms, he whispers, he soothes you in order to soothe himself, but you catch on instantly, concern splashing over you.
“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
A kiss to the tip of your nose, to your smart little nose. “No, no, I’m a little sore; just had a difficult session–a difficult day, actually. And I haven’t showered yet. So don’t get yourself too worked up here. You don’t want me like this.”
He expects you to recoil from this, to find the sex with someone else still lingering on his skin. You don’t.
You simply run your hands over his sides, lean in to kiss his chin. “Of course I do. I want you like whatever you are.”
You’re backlit from the kitchen and there’s something like a soft halo around you, bringing a glow to the roll of your cheeks, the swipe of your lip. Tracing these with a finger and finding himself reflected in your eyes, he trusts you, accepts this, tries to see himself like you do. How are you so effortless?
There’s nothing but surrender when you rake your fingers through his beard and push yourself up onto tiptoe to press a warm kiss to his forehead. “But if you really feel that way, beautiful, let me run you a bath.” 
Everytime he opens his eyes and you’re there, it's like a small miracle.
“Come on,” you smile, taking his hand and guiding him to the stairs, “let me take care of you and you can tell me about your day.”
You’re perfect. He’s so grateful he picked up the phone tonight when he did.
________
“Mmmmm, that’s good.” The sigh comes up from his bottom wells, like a contented creature crawling out of hidden caverns within. The back of his head rests in your palm, warm water spilling over his scalp. Your hands whisper and calm and soothe. He spends so much time using his touch to bring relaxation to others that he’d all but forgotten that it could go the other way. And your touch–
“So there was some heavy lifting tonight, huh?” Your finger lightly wipes away an errant rivulet from the corner of his eye. “Ness, right?”
The ghost of irritation looms. “Mmm. She has a pretty severe tailbone injury. Didn’t tell me about it before she showed up. Lot of full-body lifting on the table just to get her in the right positions for stretch.”
“I see. You’ll feel it tomorrow. And sore tailbone means no actual sex tonight.”
“Oh no, we had some fun. She’s got weeks of recovery ahead of her and she needed some practice re-routing some natural orgasm responses to different muscle groups when she ejaculates.”
“Ejaculates? She…? Ohhh.” A loving hand begins to wander lightly over his chest. “I assumed. My bad.”
“Sorry. Should have been more clear. But yeah.”
“No need to apologize. I don’t know why I hadn’t just assumed that you…took all forms of payment.”
He peeks an eye open to catch your reaction as you reach over the side of the tub toward him and finds your warm, curious smile. “Not to disparage the vaginal anatomy, but sometimes it’s nice to have my dick handled by someone who has a lifetime experience with their own.”
“Noted. Fair.”
Closing his eyes and sinking into the warm bath of your care a lifetime goes by with your hands running over his skin.
“You’re very accommodating.”
A kiss lands on his temple. “Wait until you realize I’m terribly selfish and am in it for the rewards points.” When his smile fades, your hands slow. “That was a joke.”
“I know.” Sensing a shift in tone coming when he turns to you, you instinctively pull back, but he catches your hand in his, pulling it in to place a wet kiss to your knuckles. “Would you mind if I don’t want to have sex tonight?”
“Of course. That’s okay.” A half-smile. Are you covering disappointment?
“I’m more than happy to go down on you if you–”
But a shake of your head stops him. “No, it's fine. I can tell you’re tired. You said you had a hard day. Wanna tell me about it while we get you dried off and into bed?”
He feels like a child as he simply nods, allows you to help him up, succumbs to you as you care for him. It’s easy to do, to melt under your attention, to crack open and spill. He does his best not to control the spread as he generalizes a failed report at work, a difficult project he’s fallen behind on. By the time you’re sliding into the sheets and curling up next to him, he’s breaching the topic he’s been deciding and undeciding and deciding again to tell you about–that his mother called without warning.
“She wants to meet you.”
Your breathing stills in the darkness. “You told your mom about me.”
“Is that okay?”
“Yeah, I..” you stutter, “I guess I didn’t… I’m flattered that you talk about me?”
There’s a pang of guilt that he’s let you believe you’re not important enough for him to tell the world that you’re in his life. But he sighs as you squeeze your arm around his middle. “You might feel differently if you met her.”
“Are you kidding? I’d love to meet your…is it just your mom?”
“And my father. I have an older brother but he lives in Australia. Doesn’t go home much.”
“Home issssSantiago?”
“Just outside of it. Rancagua.”
Another squeeze. Perhaps that was a lie; your arm around him and the brush of your lips on his shoulder feels like his true home now. 
“So this call was stressful because she wants to meet me. And you’re nervous?”
“The call was stressful because…I don’t…want her to meet you.” Your squeeze lightens a bit and he slides his grip over your arm in case you decide he’s awful and want to pull away. He knows he should let you go if you want to but– “I wanted to ask you, Pres…I’m sorry I don’t know if I can ask this much from you but–”
It almost breaks his heart when your arm slides through his hand, when your warmth leaves his side, when you abandon him…
But it’s only for the time it takes to hear the click of the bedside lamp, register the bright sting and spill of light, and you’re back beside him, leaning over him, turning his face to yours with one patient hand on his cheek. “What’s going on. I’ve never seen you like this.”
Shit. Get it together.
“You’re going to think I’m a fucking jerk–”
“Don’t tell me what you think I’m going to think, sir. Tell me what you need from me. Just say it.”
This leaves him with depleted gambling chips, raises the stakes. But you’re right. He has to be honest.
“The relationship I have with my family is…strained. That’s why I live here and not there. I see them somewhat regularly, but the holidays are when the whole family gets together–all the cousins–and it’s just a lot. There’s a lot that’s expected, a lot of judgements…it’s overwhelming. I can barely make it through myself, but having you there? Watching you be scrutinized on top of it when we’re just figuring this out? I just…no.”
“You know I won’t tell them–”
“It’s not that, fuck, it’s not that.” He surges in for a kiss, taking you in deep, willing you to understand him by osmosis; if only… “Every time I’ve gone down for the holidays it’s stressful enough…it’s…it’s bad enough that I’m away from my clients, but–”
“But under stress the itch gets worse. And you don’t have your outlet. And you’re not in control.”
Oh god, you see him. You see him and he’s so…fucking pathetic.
The last thing he expects is for you to pepper kisses along his mouth and chin, to dot a lingering one on his cheek before pulling him into your chest, to cradle him, breathe into his hair.
But it’s exactly what you do.
“What do you need, beautiful boy? Anything you want.”
He breathes. Sighs. Curses himself for doubting you, for assuming you wouldn’t surprise him. Allows you to hold the weight of his heart on your own without a spotter.
“I need to…not do the ‘meet the family’ thing this year. I just want you to myself for a while.”
A hum of sympathy, of bittersweetness, one that stakes his heart into the ground at your feet. “Oh Patricio. Is that all?” Your breast moves under his cheek as you lean over to turn off the light, your soft curves and soft scent and soft hum whispering to him, calming him, soothing him into you. “I’ll admit that I’m a little sad that I don’t get to show you off to my family, but I definitely see the appeal of a quiet holiday season, just us hiding away from the world together. You want me to yourself? Did you really think I would find that anything but absolutely wonderful?”
All at once, the strains of the day overtake him, the need to say more is gone and took his energy to do so right along with it. A whole lifetime of relief in just an hour. That’s your secret power. Always has been. He cannot think of words more meaningful than, “Thank you.”
Your fingertips begin their pattern of affection along his jaw, tattooing a spell of sleep through him. “This really means a lot to you, huh.” He’s too gone to get his voice to work and it seems you assume he’s fallen asleep. “Well you mean the world to me. You don’t even know, mister.”
It’s not worth the effort to drag himself from the downward pull of dreams to ask you to say more about that. Not when he knows you’ll be right here in the morning and he can ask you then.
Or say the same thing right back to you.
Maybe this time he’ll find a way to do that.
______
MASTERLIST
SERIES MASTERLIST
198 notes · View notes
m3l0v3trees · 26 days
Text
SMILING CRITTERS X READER
MODERN AU
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A/N: *Throws a table* Im mad as shit with this. You guys better not flop this shit. And I take requests so request anything you want because I'm bored.
Ships: Dogday and catnap x reader
Besties: Bobby, craftycorn, picky, hoppy
Friends: Bubba, kickin
Warnings: cringe?
About Y/N: A female, 19-20 years old, blue eyes, and white casual dress just above your knee, and white shoes
Enjoy I guess
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A flower angel
Growing up was difficult for you. You never knew your parents and had a difficult childhood. You pretty much live with your grandmother. You had two other siblings both are twins. And yet, you. Your the runt in the litter. Weak and fragile and yet kind and sweet. You have a kind soul of what people would say. You were fragile and beautiful like a fragile flower. People often found you sweet and gentle.
You live in a small village away from the city. People in the village know you from that point on. You were pretty much popular there due to your kind and gentle soul. And of course you never been to school. Your grandmother never had the money to afford you to school. So you mostly spend your time in the flower field reading all sorts of kind of books. You spent your free time learning, reading, and helping your loved ones. But you have a problem. You have social anxiety. Your the shy and weird type of people your age say.
You struggle with communicating and cooperate with other people your age. They often make fun of you. But you are kind to those who are older than you. And that with said, you have zero friends except for the elders. Well, you did try to make friends but, you always get laughed on and then you would run off crying. Nevertheless your kind and good kid.
Some people found you being weird. For example, first, you talk to animals like they are a person. Second, you always pick and make flower crowns. And three, you always bring books to the flower field. That's what made them think your weird.
They often asked you why do you always go run off to the flower field with a full basket of books. And for you. You always answer, ‘Because it's fun!’. Yeah, they found it weird.
Nevertheless, Your a good, kind, and sweet granddaughter that your grandmother could ever had.
“Grandma, I'm off to the flower field!” You shouted from outside the door.
“Alright, be careful dear!” Your grandmother shouted.
Hearing your grandmother shouted back. You went off to the small forest to go to the flower field. Holding your basket of books and snacks, you continue to walk through the small path of the small forest leading to the flower field not quite far.
You walk through the small forest path. Listening to the wind gushing the leaves making a pleasant sound and some birds chirping happily. You were the nature type. You love going through a scroll in the small forest as it leads through the flower field.
After a while of walking. You Finally arrived at the flower field. You started to smile. You began to run through the field going straight at the small hill with a tree on top of it, in the middle of the field.
After putting your basket down near the tree. You got up and stared at flowers as some flower petals got blown by the wind. You smiled at nature's calmness. Your white dress gets blown a little by the wind.
‘Nature is really beautiful... It wouldn't hurt to run around, right?’ you thought.
Nevertheless, you began to run around the flower field like a child. You run around, picking some flowers, and make flower crowns by colour order. Red, orange, green, blue, sky blue, purple, and pink. Nature is really calming and you even got back from being child even tho you're an adult, but you didn't care at all.
You continue to finish the last the last flower crown till a slight tap on the shoulder startled you. You let out a small ‘Eek!’ and turned around to see who or what it was. Upon turning around and looking up from the legs of someone. You look to see a red bear smiling at you.
You both stared to each other. Your blue eyes widen a bit.
‘Who... And what... is this?’ you thought.
“U-um... H-hi?” you said scared and nervously.
“Hi there! Sorry for startling you! But, I'm bobby bearhug!” She smiled.
You hesitated to response back, but she was nice to you and didn't she didn't do anything bad to you. Oh your too kind hearted Y/N
“M-my... Name is.. Y/N..” You said sheepishly.
“Nice to meet you, Y/N! And again! I'm sorry for starting you..” She sat beside you and smiled.
You smile and shook your head.
“No.. Not at all.. just didn't know that someone.. like you be here..” You look up to the sky and then back to bobby.
“What.. are you tho?” You questioned.
“Oh! I'm a bigger body toy! But kinda more human like, you know?” She smiled sheepishly.
“I won't really lie but, your quite beautiful for bigger body toy... And yet, You look like a.. rose you even smelled like one..” As the seconds pass by you didn't felt scared but felt... Safe and calm.
Bobby was kinda shock to hear that from someone even from a human. She smiled happily and pulled you into a bear hug.
“Ooh! Your too kind, Y/N! And your beautiful too!” She said.
You didn't know the upcoming bear hug but, you didn't mind this moment. You hugged back sniffing bobby at some point.
‘She really is like a rose...’ You thought.
You both pulled away from the embrace and started to laugh and chuckle. You both then bonded and talking about eachother. You gave her a red flower crown as you both chatted, eating snacks, and read books with each other.
’This is.. what a friend is like...’ You thought.
It was almost sunset as the sun was nearly coming to settle.
“Its getting late... My grandmother would be worried if I can't get home in time...” You said.
“Same. Well then...” Bobby stands up and then helping you up.
“I'll see you tomorrow! And then we can talk about our days!” She said. You nodded and smiled.
“Thank you...”
“Thank you for what, Y/N?”
“For being my new friend!” You smiled so happily. You pulled her into a hug as she also hugged you back.
“No problem, girl! And I also thank you for being a new friend to me too!” She chuckled.
You both pulled away from your hug and started to depart in your ways. You wave her goodbye with a wide happy smile. As she gladly waved back and went off.
‘I can't wait till tomorrow!” You both thought.
You walked home and arrived at your porch before the sun had settled. You open your door and saw your grandmother with a worried and concerned face, but it turned into a surprise and shocked face to see you smiling happily.
“Y/N, dear? What got you smiling like a happy kid?” she chuckled as her face turned to somewhat happy.
“I made a new friend, grandmother! She was kinda and sweet too!” You said.
You both went to the dinner table and started to eat as you told your grandmother about your new friend. She was happy to see her granddaughter finally had someone to be happy with. The night never became so long and happy as you ramble at your grandmother.
“She must be a great friend to have.” Your grandmother spoke.
“She was!” you chuckled out happily.
🌈~∆~°~∆~🌈~∆~°~∆~🌈~∆~°~∆~🌈
A/N: yes it's short but I'm busy because I'm doing this at school. So comment and like if you want part 2 and please reblog this if you have time.
🌈~∆~°~∆~🌈~∆~°~∆~🌈~∆~°~∆~🌈
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memories feel like weapons
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Summary: after your brief reunion with Wanda at the gym, you both overthink what it means
Word Count: 984 Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader Warnings: not really any? Wanda and R being bad at conversations. Part 2 of 'half of my hometown' series masterlist <- previous part | next part ->
»»————- ★ ————-««
Wanda curses herself as she shuts her bedroom door, immediately leaning back to rest her head against it. She questions all her actions that night: why had she said that? Why had she run away? Her plan had always been to leave the gym if someone entered, that was the case day or night, hence why she goes at 2 am, because who else would be in the gym at 2 am? You; that’s apparently the answer.
Either way, she’d already been fleeing from the moment the door creaked open. Seeing your face again after so many years stalled the exit, but, in her disoriented state, her legs carried her back to her room before she could even think of changing her plan.
“Shit,” she mutters softly, debating whether she can go back and fix her mistake, though she assumes by now you'll be gone. Streams of different conversations flow through her mind: she should have asked you how you were, how your life had been, whether you wanted to catch up… hell, she doesn't even know if you recognised her. It has taken her long enough to realise it was you, and she knows the past 13 years have changed her even more.
02:30 flashes from the corner of the room, catching Wanda's eye. She sighs, knowing that she should sleep before her 9 am training the next day. The Sokovian prepares for bed and eventually drifts off, but, until she does, all her thoughts are on you, and whether she'll have the opportunity to see you again.
»»————- ★ ————-««
Unbeknownst to the Avenger, you take action into your own hands, not wanting to go another 13 years before you stumble into her again. You promised yourself that you'd give her space, but that vow doesn't stop you from routinely circling back to the gym whenever you work the night shift, hoping that the one thing you know about this present-day Wanda is part of a routine, and not just a fluke nighttime visit.
It works, and, only a few nights later, Wanda is the one to stumble into you.
You pass by the gym, disappointed by the darkness and silence you find within and ready to turn away into the next corridor, when Wanda quite literally stumbles into you. The two of you turn the corner at the same time and collide with a force strong enough to send Wanda teetering back; your instincts kick in and you rush forward to catch her before she could tumble to the floor.
“I'm so sorry,” you both say, before breaking into nervous smiles at the action. You help her stabilise herself back on her feet again then draw back, attempting to speak once again.
“Hi,” is all you manage.
She smiles widely, “Hi.”
“So… you come here at 2 am often then?” the line comes out before you can even think about it, and you do your best to hide how you cringe at your own words.
You know you've hidden it poorly though because Wanda laughs, such a free-flowing sound which, even when you last saw each other, had been sorely missing from your life. She nods though, and ducks her head down to watch her fingers twirl the rings on her hands; you follow her gaze and furrow your eyebrows as you recognise one of them.
“I live here now, so, yeah,” she replies, snapping your attention back to the conversation you'd been having.
“The new superhero of the Avengers, so I heard. You're the talk of the Compound. Though it wasn't until I saw you the other night that I realised ‘Wanda the Avenger’ and ‘Wanda, the girl next door from Sokovia’ were one and the same.”
“The first one is still in progress. The second one is still who I am,” she mutters; the previous amusement is gone from her voice and you realise you've crossed into a topic she'd rather avoid. Unlike the others you've met, Wanda shows no indication of pride in her Avengers status, so you hurry to change the topic.
“Since you live here, I guess it's more ‘Wanda, the girl across the building from me’ now,” you chuckle, a smile spreading when you see the creases reforming around Wanda's eyes.
“You live here too?” she questions, and this time it's your turn to nod.
“Live here, work here, hardly leave here. I'm over on the East side of the building with the other agents.”
“Agent Y/L/N…”
“That's me, reporting for duty,” you joke with a fake salute until you remember that you are meant to be on duty. “I should probably get back to my patrol,” you tell Wanda, not missing the way her smile falters temporarily.
“Yes, I'm sorry, don't let me keep you.”
“It was nice seeing you, Wanda,” you begin, “and catching up a bit after so long. Uh, maybe I'll see you around here at another 2 am.”
Wanda smiles back at you; if you waited just a little longer, you would have seen her mouth hang open ready to stop you, a question dying on her tongue. Maybe then you would encourage her to speak it and hear what she wants to ask. 
But, instead, you turn away as soon as you finish speaking, cheeks burning after the implication that you'd meet her again, that she'd stay up and walk around the Compound at 2 am just to meet you. If you were bolder, you would have asked the question you wanted to ask; you wouldn't have turned away so fast. Living on the outskirts of friendship groups in your adult years has instilled fear into you though, so you leave quickly and bluntly, choosing to dwell on memories of the strongest friendship you had rather than face rejection from the girl you used to know. The girl who you feel sure has better friends than you by now.
next part ->
»»————- ★ ————-««
General Taglist: @canvascoloredin @fxckmiup @wizardofstories
Series Taglist: @family-house-of-m @emiliaisdead
First part didn't do so well so idk if I'll get any suggestions, but what do you think should happen next 👀
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sophieinwonderland · 2 months
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The hatesub r/systemscringe are being full-on transphobes again!
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Reminder: a huge number of systems have alters and headmates with completely different genders and sexes from the body.
Anyone who has ever studied any type of multiplicity is aware of this fact.
And not-so-shockingly, this makes gender complicated.
Let's just see the screenshots they're angry at today.
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So the body has transitioned to male but this one headmate identifies as female and identifies as a trans woman.
In another screenshot, the system says they aren't "invading trans spaces." Which is such an absurd thing to have to defend yourselves from accusations of when you're a part of a trans system.
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Even if you do take the position that spaces for transwomen should be exclusionary AFAB people, one would at least expect the male headmates to be able to feel safe in the trans community without being made to feel like they're "invaders."
Unfortunately, many pluralphobes and queer exclusionists have decided the gender identity of headmates in systems is less valid than that of singlets.
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This is another pretty common thing. Especially with introjects who have source memories. It's common to have memories of lives you may not have actually lived but still feel pretty real.
I did a Tumblr poll last year. About half of systems responding had at least one trans headmate with the same gender as the body's AGAB. Nearly all had cis headmates with the opposite gender of the body.
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Of course, if you heard it from r/systemscringe, they must be faking being trans entirely!
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And takes like this throw not just systems under the bus, but also people who are genderfluid or otherwise nonbinary as well.
And if you're thinking, "wow, that comment sounds like something truscum would say," you aren't wrong!
Here are some unrelated posts this same user has authored:
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Back to r/systemscringe, most of the comments were more of the same, stopping just short of calling them transtrenders but clearly very much wanting to!
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By the way, all the censors on the names of the system and alters were mine. u/superthrowawayEEE censored nothing. When a user points this out, moderator u/DizkoLites says they considered taking it down but chose not to, saying their name was common enough that it wouldn't matter.
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To be fair, the mods did end up taking it down... after the system got harassed for their gender and contacted the subreddit directly.
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So congrats on waiting until after the harassment to enforce your own rules!
But don't worry, you're free to make a brand new post mocking someone for their gender identity! r/systemscringe's mod team is totally cool with that! Just gotta hide the name because that's apparently the only problem here!🙄
(You know, unless they're on the mod-approved hit list. Then you can name them too no matter how much harassment they get.)
The other day, someone asked this question on the hatesub:
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Here's the answer:
Stop being bigots.
Stop being ableists.
Stop spreading misinformation.
Stop mocking people for their genders.
Stop harboring truscum and parroting transphobic talking points!
Try to be decent human beings for once in your lives!
And then... well, I guess that wouldn't leave much of a subreddit would it? There's no r/systemscringe without ableism, transphobia and queer exclusionism. It's baked into the DNA of these groups.
But maybe that would be for the best.
Nothing from these cringe communities is salvageable. And nothing should be socially acceptable about groups founded on cyberbullying.
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luveline · 2 years
Note
rockstar!remus with shy!reader when another girl tries to get at him and he finds r in the bathroom crying cos of it?
feel free to change it up how you want. hope your day/night is going well! :)
thank you!! hope yours is good too!!! ♡ fem!reader | 1k words
The toilet seat lid is cold under your legs. There's a stretch of skin between your skirt and your garters that's flush with it, and you keep thinking about how many germs there are leaching into your skin. The stall door has some poor girl's phone number written in curling script promising a good time across the top. Your eyes trace the numbers, over and over. 
Music thumps loudly through the walls. You should go back. Remus, lovely as he is, is probably worried already. 
You'd just – needed to cry somewhere by yourself for a bit. And maybe that's pathetic, god knows none of the other girls here tonight would bother crying in the bathroom. In their limousines and SUV's on the way home, perhaps, but the bathroom? That's not how famous people do things. 
Good thing you're not famous. 
You wipe a fresh tear away before it can fall. You're not crying over this. You're not.
You've never felt jealous of Remus' fame, never begrudged it, never even wanted it to go away, despite how tough it is to navigate as someone who doesn't have a drop of it. The limelight is a nightmare you don't want to live, which is why Remus is very careful about who knows you're together. It's how you want it, but to hear Remus say he's single? It doesn't feel right. It hurts. 
You know he'd only told that woman (a very famous, very attractive singer in the same circles) that he was single when she asked because that's what you'd agreed on. That's what you'd asked him to do.
Bad idea, you think. My worst idea yet. 
"Dove?"
You cringe and hop onto your feet. "Yeah, two seconds." 
"Are you okay?" 
"This is the girl's bathroom." 
"Only girl in here is mine. I figured it was alright." 
You wipe your face with the backs of your hands and frown at the dark smudges left behind.
"You should go back. I'll be out in a bit." 
"You've been gone almost ten minutes." 
"I know, I-" 
"Have I upset you?" 
"No!" You swallow against the lump growing in your throat. "Of course not, I-" 
"Please, dove." 
You sniffle and feel very pathetic as you open the stall and step into the light. Remus stands near the door, running a hand through his hair. It drops when he sees you, as does any suggestion of a smile. 
He's wearing dark trousers and a cream coloured t-shirt with a brand name in burgundy over the front. Remus dresses simple and he doesn't accessorise. He doesn't need to. He's all dark eyes and movement, everything attractive about him intrinsic and inherent. 
You move to stand in front of him, an automatic want to be close. He takes your face in his hands and starts to rub away the tear stains, methodical in his dedication. 
"Let's go home, shall we?" he asks quietly.
"No, don't do that. Don't let me ruin your party." 
He slides his fingers into the space behind your ears, thumbs braced on your cheeks so you can't escape his stare. He knows you too well. You squint at him, feeling terrifyingly close to tears again as his lips part. 
He leans in. "You haven't ruined anything." 
You curl your fingers around the crook of his arm and cling to him rather than answer.
"What happened?" 
You don't lie to Remus. Not from any moral high ground. Honesty is important, but really you're quick to spill your guts because you want his reassurance badly. He knows almost everything about you by now, and this won't be any different. 
You blink, annoyed at yourself as another wave of tears blurs your vision.
"I really… it really didn't feel right, when you told that girl that you're single." You lift your chin slightly. Anyone else might think you're angry but Remus reads it for what it is: panic. "It felt awful." 
"I'm sorry. I won't do it again." 
You can feel the heat of a tear snaking down your cheek. Remus wipes it away. "You shouldn't be sorry," you say, "I asked you to lie. It's my fault." 
It's silly to let him touch you like this where you might get caught. If somebody walked in and saw, they'd probably tell their friends, and their friends would tell their friends until somebody hungry for a payout ends up hearing it. Remus and his mystery girl, tearstained in the girl's toilets. One of the world's biggest rockstars with a total nobody. 
"I don't think I can do this," you say. 
He frowns at you. He knows you well, you know him better. There's a certain tell for when he's worried, the way his bottom lashes twitch. "What?" 
"I'm not- I'm too much of a coward, Remus." All self-pity, you let your head drop against his chest with a weak sigh. "I'm never gonna be able to do this." 
"Sweetheart…" Remus untucks your shirt to push his hand underneath, bass-string callouses scratching your hip. "You're not a coward. You're overwhelmed right now, but I promise once we go home and get some quiet you're gonna feel heaps better." 
You shudder. He doubles down. "If you want me to, I'll go out there right now and tell her, I'll tell everyone I'm with you. I'd be happy to do that." 
"I know." 
You're not ready. This limbo that you've created aches deep down into your chest, like a hand has worked its way past your skin and lives to squeeze your nerves. You can't have both. You can't have a private life and a public one, not with Remus. 
You're always gonna choose Remus. Scared or not. You're pretty sure he knows that. "I'm sorry. I make this so much harder for you," you say. 
"You don't," he says sternly. "I can't do this without you, dove. You make it a thousand times easier." 
You laugh wetly. "Liar." 
"I'm not lying. I can't do this without you, but I wouldn't do this without you." 
His way of saying, Oh, you're always gonna choose me? You think I won't do the same? 
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maxinemaxmayfield · 4 months
Text
For the STWG daily drabble prompt: missed mistletoe
gen • 450 words • steddie
Why he had allowed the Party to use his house for their Christmas get-together, he’ll never know.
Why he had allowed Max and El to decorate without supervision, he’ll really never know.
He doesn’t know if they’re trying to get Lucas and Mike, respectively, to kiss them, or if they’d been trying to get the boys to kiss each other, but either way, Steve is now left tearing down sprig after sprig of mistletoe as he scours every nook and cranny of his house.
Sure, the girls will probably complain, pout and say he ruined their fun, but he isn’t risking it. No way.
Luckily, Eddie had stopped by and offered Steve a break from babysitting duty, which he was now using to reverse the damage the girls had done.
He double-checks each room, finally satisfied that all the mistletoe has been removed, and heads back into the living room after dropping the lot in the kitchen trash and grabbing two beers from the fridge.
“Hey, they doing okay?” He asks, handing the second beer to Eddie and leaning against the wall next to him.
“Getting into less trouble than I did at their age, so can’t complain,” Eddie answers.
“I don’t even like thinking about what I was up to at their age.” Steve cringes at the very idea.
They don’t realize that the group has fallen silent until too late, staring at them and suppressing giggles.
“What?” Eddie asks, bewildered.
But Steve doesn’t need to ask. Steve knows. Can see the path their eyes are taking from the ceiling down to both their faces.
Goddamn. Fucking. Mistletoe.
“Oo-ooh, you have to kiss,” El tells them, pointing at the leaves above them. “Those are the rules.”
Steve jumps in to shut that idea down before anyone else joins in. “We are not kissing.”
“Chickenshit,” Max goads from the corner.
“Do you have no respect for the rules of Christmas tradition?” Lucas asks.
And fuck, they aren’t gonna leave it alone, that much is clear.
Steve throws up his free hand and turns to Eddie. “They’re never gonna shut up about it if we don’t,” he says with a sigh.
Eddie doesn’t speak, just shrugs and nods with a look in his eyes not unlike a deer in headlights.
Steve braces himself and leans in.
His whole world tilts on its axis, like gravity has reversed, like everything he’s ever known has been thrown out the window.
Because kissing Eddie? It’s not like any kiss he’s had before. It’s electric. It’s everything.
He’s ruined for all other kisses.
He doesn’t even hear the choruses of “ewww!” and “get a room!” coming from the very kids who brought this on themselves.
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wordsarelife · 5 months
Text
DAY 6: SANTA BABY
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pairing: isaac lahey x fem!reader
summary: you and isaac gift each other the perfect present during secret santa
warnings: none i think
notes: sorry this was such a delay
the pack was sitting around the christmas tree, unpacking the various presents they had gifted each other.
"who is mine?" isaac asked excitedly.
you raised your arm smiling at him. you grabbed your bag and gently pulled out the present for him. "here you go"
"cool" isaac gushed while taking the box from you "i had you" he smiled, while reaching behind his back and holding a present in your direction.
"thank you" you both smiled at the same time and neither of you could take your eyes away from the other.
"aren't you going to open it?" stiles asked from next to you.
"uuh, yeah of course" you quickly took your eyes off of isaac and started to unpack your present.
isaac seemed to be a bit faster than you. "what is it?" scott asked and you looked up, giggling as you notice scott trying to braid lydia's long hair and failing miserably.
isaac doesn't answer. his eyes were fixated on the thing in his hand. he frowned and you grew scared for a second, maybe what you had bought him wasn't the right choice after all.
"y/n" he looked up at you and you were ready for him to be disappointed, but instead he smiled. "thank you"
"what is it?" lydia tried to look over isaac’s shoulder, what tempted scott to quickly pull her back.
"you're ruining the braid" scott warned.
isaac turned around to him, to show lydia the cd in his hand. "it's a cd my mom used to play for me when i was a kid. sadly it broke a few years ago and i wasn't able to find it anywhere" he turned back around at you, still obviously in wonder "how did you possibly find this?"
"i checked a lot of stores, but it's not sold anymore" you explained "then i visited my grandpa and he still had it from back when he bought it in store. it was basically free" you cringed "sorry i didn't spend any money on it" you felt bad immediately. you hadn’t even thought about this before.
"are you kidding?" isaac laughed, getting up from his seat and hugging you "this is the best gift ever!"
"a personal present of sentimental value" stiles nodded "great, yeah, amazing even. now open yours" he looked at the still wrapped box in your lap. "it's star wars time in ten minutes and i'm not waiting on anybody" he looked around the room warningly.
"geez" lydia raised her hands while she got on her feet. her hair looked like a bird had nested in it, all while scott watched his work proudly. "i'm gonna make a quick run to the bathroom" she excused, leaving the room
you continued to unwrap isaac's gift, but stopped in your movement, while you recognized a familiar pattern. "no" you shook your head, pulling the sweater out of the box gently. "my grandma’s sweater" you smiled "the one stiles ruined last summer" you send a spiteful look in the boys direction.
"i told you it was an accident"
"how did you make the stain go away? i thought it was ruined"
"the dad of a friends friend has this shop were they specialize in fixing ruined clothing" isaac exclaimed shrugging "i just asked for a simple favour"
you rushed out of your seat, hugging the boy. "thank you"
"no problem" isaac smiled "seems like you and i had pretty similiar ideas"
"yes" you said and again you couldn't take your eyes from his face, a face that was pretty close to yours now.
before you were able to lean over and possibly connect your lips, the tv announced the movie starting.
"couch! now!" stiles almost screamed, pushing you all to sit down. you sat beside isaac and when scott and stiles didn't look, he softly interlocked your hands.
you smiled at the gesture and at him. laying your head on his shoulder while the movie started.
you almost shrieked out of your seat, when there was a scream. "scott!" lydia bellowed from the direction of the bathroom.
you and isaac laughed when she walked back into the living room, looking even worse than before. it seemed like she had tried to loosen the hairstyle scott had did and had made it even worse.
"what is that?" she pointed to her head.
before scott could answer, stiles shushed all of you. "sit down and watch the movie" her head turned to him quickly "ehh- please"
to your surprise lydia actually complied to stile's request.
"honestly" isaac whispered in your ear "does christmas ever get less crazy?"
"never" you whispered back "but i'm glad that you are here and we can agree on the craziness"
taglist: @twistedhistory @bakingintheshire @mqstermindswift @taygrls @athenalikethegoddess
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