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#I’m aware of the stupidity of these photos
jayelle0kay · 8 months
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this monkey & his party pupils
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flynnriderishot · 4 months
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hey there, queen! i absolutely adore your stories, and I'd be thrilled to read an angsty story featuring Chris. so, here's the deal: the reader appears to have "cheated" on Chris, but in reality, she never did. so then, the reader is hurt by Chris's lack of trust, but take a turn when Chris discovers the truth. and so he does everything in his power to make things right, and Chris goes all out to win her back. you can plan the rest of the story.
i hope this makes sense :)
scandals - c.s
a/n: tysm 😭 i’m so sorry it took so long to write. i was deadass taking my time planning this
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christopher ❤️✨
are you fucking kidding me?
we’re done
block my number
baby 🩷🩷👩‍❤️‍👨
wait wait??
christopher❤️✨
don’t act stupid
it’s all over social media
to think you’d cheat and get away with it while being a fucking influencer is insane
christopher ❤️✨ has blocked you
nicolas 🥳🥸
did you cheat on my brother?
i want to think it’s not real but that picture deadass looks like you
oh wait your hair isn’t red anymore is it?
nevermind
i’ll talk to chris
have you spoken to him?
y/n 🤍🥳
he blocked me before i could get anything in
i didn’t even know what was happening until a few minutes ago
i didn’t cheat, nick, i promise.
nicolas 🥳🥸
i believe you
matt 🫡
chris is freaking out
wtf happened??
you cheated on him?!
y/n ‼️
i didn’t cheat, matt
it’s not me, i swear on my life 🙏🏾
my hair isn’t even red anymore, hasn’t been for nearly a month
matt🫡
😐
that’s so true
my bad
i’ll talk to chris. he’s convinced it’s you
he keeps saying how you could’ve cheated a while back and finally got exposed for it
y/n‼️
that makes no sense
the only times i’m not with him, i’m with nick, there’s no time within the two months i had my hair red that i would’ve found the time to cheat on him
and even if i did, i fucking suck at lying, how the hell would i have gotten that past him ?!
matt 🫡
tried telling him that.
kid damn near slammed my finger in the door
starting to think i shouldn’t get him the love of his life back 😐
•••
it’s been nearly two weeks since you’ve spoken to or seen chris. he seemed to have been thoroughly convinced that you cheated on him.
you weren’t able to get through to him due to him blocking you. you could have tried messaging him through instagram since he hadn’t blocked on the app, but you knew the amount of dms he got a day so the chances of him even seeing your message was slim to none.
with him not blocking you on instagram came the sadness of seeing him slowing either delete or archive the pictures he had of you two on his account.
truthfully, you didn’t cheat on him and his lack of trust in you and your relationship felt like knives to the chest.
you knew how chris was, he’d eventually realize he was in the wrong and finally try to talk to you.
now, you weren’t so sure how you would feel if he did. it’s genuinely hurt you to know that one simple thing could lead to him doubting your love for him completely. you weren’t fond of being in a relationship with someone that chose to listen to strangers rather than to hear it from the source.
you just finished stress cleaning up your room, a pile of chris’ belongings off to the side in case he had one of his brothers stop by to come grab it.
just as you were about to take a break, your phone began to go off with people mentioning you on a video on tiktok.
curious, you sat in your desk chair, your heart pounding in your chest as you watched a girl, who could easily be mistaken as you, set up her camera.
video-
‘hi, my names jasmine- jas if we’re close.’
she chuckled, tugging her red hair behind her ear.
‘recently, there’s been a picture of me and my boyfriend going around. in the photo, we can be seen kissing, but my back is towards whoever it was that took the picture.’
she cleared her throat, adjusting her posture. the exact photo that got people confused showed up in the corner of your screen.
‘now, i don’t do social media. i’m not an influencer, but i am aware of what goes on, you know what i mean? anyway- people think that i’m the youtuber yn ln.’
she laughed in disbelief.
‘i wasn’t going to say anything because, again, i don’t do social media. but i saw the poor girl getting hate because people think she cheated on her boyfriend chris. i’m here to clear it up. that is me in the picture, not yn. here’s a side by side of the picture the stranger took, and l a picture from the same day that my boyfriend and i took.’
as she said this, a cute photo of jasmine and her boyfriend smiling at the camera appeared on the right side of the picture that got you canceled.
‘i doubt she’d see this, but if she does, i’m so sorry that i didn’t come out sooner to say anything. but last thing i want is for someone to get hated on for something they didn’t do.’
and with that, the video ended.
you couldn’t stop yourself from going to the comments to see what people thought.
sturniolosbaby i bet y’all are embarrassed 😭
nicksbabygirl you guys ruined a relationship and it wasn’t even her 💀 that’s sick @/yn.ln @/christophersturniolo
chrispepsicola oh wow @/yn.ln
mattskisses it might not have been her in the pic but she still could’ve cheated
>>> sturniolosbiggestfan don’t start 😐
letstripbaby @/yn.ln @/christophersturniolo @/nicolassturniolo @/matthew.sturniolo @/sturniolotriplets
>>> babysturn damn tag their parents while you’re at it 😭💀
ynxsturniolo @/yn.ln look at these morons
nicksgaywife chris already deleted their photos together on instagram, look wtf you guys did 😒 @/yn.ln @/christophersturniolo
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nicolas 🥳🥸
bitch
link to tiktok
chris is so upset right now
warning‼️
he’s begging matt to drop him off at yours. figured you should know before you start packing his shit
y/n 🤍🥳
too late…
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astonmartingf · 2 months
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NEW PERSPECTIVE ; FA14
fernando alonso x photo journalist!reader
. . . twenty years into his career, alonso faced a lot of changes. but it was all because of you, that he looked forward to at the end of everything.
amgf 2.8k words. implied mentions of spygate, rumors, other controversies, accidents and more. slightly realistic? i cried writing this— made me in awe of fernando as a driver even more. enjoy 👍
death of a bachelor ; masterlist
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[2005]
Is Fernando selfish?
He could say that to himself, it doesn’t matter to him what other people thought of him. At the end of the day, they’re just here to race.
He’s aware of it, if it weren’t for his skills and passion he wouldn’t have come this far— a young boy from Spain, dreaming to make it to the top. It didn’t seem like reality four years ago, yet here he is.
Standing on top of his car in parc ferme, the crowd cheering him on as his engineers flood through from the garage to greet him. The sun shining down on him— celebrating his win, it felt as if he was back at home in Spain, under the protection of his helmet he could see the entourage of people crowding him.
People as far as his eye can see, but it’s all a blur— to Fernando this was everything he dreamed of and more. It peeved him that he didn’t win the Brazilian Grand Prix, but winning the World Championship was even better.
His shoulders held high hugging every Renault engineer he could find, it was history. He will be a part of history- no. Fernando Alonso made history. And this was just the beginning.
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[2007]
Where did things go wrong?
Exactly two years ago, Fernando was on cloud nine. The only thing he’s getting to the nines is stress. As much as he hates to admit he was intimidated to be one-upped by a rookie at that.
It’s his ego that’s eating him alive, nonetheless Fernando is still proud. If he has his head high, nothing could ever stop him.
It scares him, the monster growing inside him, but what else can he do? In this sport, one can either hunt or be hunted. If he had to use tricks up his sleeve, why wouldn’t he?
It’s nothing personal, Hamilton just happened to be there, his only mistake was thinking that the rookie won’t retaliate. In hindsight, he’d gladly accept P2 over his teammate.
Fernando may have an egotistical and dubious character but he wasn’t blind to the young man’s skills. But it was also a mirror and testament to his own, if Hamilton could do it, what’s his reason not to deliver?
Thinking back on his phone call with the team principal, he should’ve immediately told the FIA instead of ratting himself out. Now he has to face the consequences of his actions, deciding to do better, Alonso ultimately leaves the team.
[2008]
He must be a penchant for bad luck, this time Fernando knows it wasn’t his fault.
It annoyed him that controversy seemed to follow him wherever he went. “Are you Fernando Alonso? Is it real you tried to kill your teammate? What can you say in response to the rumors circulating about you?”
Joder!
“Fernando Alonso? Do you have time for an interview?”
Alonso wasn’t one to be caught off-guard, but for the first time he stood frozen, in shock. Glancing around the area, Alonso stepped forward nodding towards the interviewer. He’d been dealing with stupid questions all day long, what’s another one gonna change with his mood right?
“I’m YN LN interviewer for Formula One Herald. As someone who has witnessed you win the championship back in 2005 and 2006, what are your plans in securing the most points possible?”
Wrong.
Now Fernando is truly caught off guard. Wary off your question, overthinking and analyzing hidden meanings behind it. Alonso didn’t think of himself as calculative, he’s simply observant and protective of his space. Knowing how easily one’s words could be twisted into a narrative.
Fernando stares at you, Surely you’re not the type to work for meager clicks on the webs?
It was silent for the next few minutes.
“Sir Alonso? I’m sorry for taking your time, you can go ahead if you don’t want to answer.”
Somehow you managed to catch Fernando’s attention even more, “I thought journalists were supposed to be persuasive? You’re just letting me go without getting a scoop of the news?”
Fernando’s eyes widened, hearing you laugh at his words, he didn’t think of himself as funny, maybe it’s one of their tactics. To know one’s information you must soften them a bit, his expression only hardens ultimately catching you off guard.
“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to laugh- I guess I’m just nervous since it’s my first time actually being dispatched on field. I used to take pictures on the sidelines- I even took one of yours when you won back in 2005, it was such a nice memory. I remember fighting a lot of reporters to catch a glimpse of you, I managed to take one and it was chosen as the front and center photo of one famous magazine! Hopefully you win more races and podiums, you make it fun and exciting. Speaking as a fan and not some journalist, I’m rooting for you- I must’ve been rambling for a while, thank you for sparing me your time, don’t worry this will all go off the record just for you. Have a nice race week.”
The air must’ve felt it too, because since then things have changed.
Fernando was left alone watching your back disappear from the crowd.
The moment things were finally looking better for him.
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[2012]
“Sir Alonso!”
The voice from afar alone caused Fernando to look around for the familiar voice in the paddock. Somehow he’s been always keen on answering your questions or setting up time for interviews, often extending them for an absurd amount of time as what his manager said.
It’s not biased if your questions are the only thing interesting. That or it could be your magnetic presence, he could feel your passion beaming through as you asked him intricate questions none that he experienced before. 
Another telltale sign is you’re the only one who calls him “Sir Alonso”, thinking back on his first meeting with you, it definitely came as a shock. Despite all the formality, he’s taken a liking to the name only you call him.
It makes him feel respected and more importantly it makes him feel like he has a special relationship with you. Walking through the crowd, he spots you at one of the tables waving your cards in the air, like a bait to lure him into your trap.
Not that he minds, if he had to spend the next hour talking about how the season wrapped, he’d rather talk to you about it. Smiling unknowingly, Fernando rubs the palms of his hands on his red tracksuit. 
Was he nervous to talk to you? No. It’s all about racing, a topic Alonso is fond of, but is your presence rubbing him off? I guess he could say that. All the thoughts in his head buzzing, what should he say? What should he do? How should he act in front of you.
Fernando never thought of himself to be as calculative, but the need to impress you has astounded him even more.
“Fernando Alonso, congratulations on finishing P2 for the season. It’s exciting to see you on and off the track now that the season is over.” 
He could feel himself beaming at the sound of your voice, it’s like you infected him with your insurmountable enthusiasm. Alonso liked that about you, no need for snarky remarks, or hidden agendas behind your question, you were always talking about the sport, yet somehow your spark never seemed to fade away.
And as much as you like to praise him, he’s slowly in the making for one of your biggest fans. Not that he will admit that to you himself.
“YN, it’s always a delight talking to you.” Grabbing your hand for a handshake, Fernando pulls you in for a hug without thinking. Immediately pulling away, Alonso’s thoughts began firing, overthinking the previous interaction.
His doubt was erased once he saw the smile on your face, happiness reaching the corners of your eyes. “Thank you for taking the time to talk to me, this is becoming a thing isn’t it?”
A thing. What thing? Fernando raises his brows asking for more context, maybe he’s overthinking it again or confused, maybe he didn’t hear you properly, totally not distracted just by being in your personal space.
“Post-season interviews? It’s always nice to catch up and look back on the season, especially this one P2. Congratulations Alonso…” Your voice drowns out into the background.
It was another turning point in Fernando Alonso’s life, and somehow this was all because of you. Only realizing then that he’d rather sit down for what seems like the longest time in his life, talking to you, not just about his racing but about your own life. He realized that he’d never catch himself doing this with other interviewers, and this was your thing.
Fernando liked that.
It’s nice to catch up and look back on the season with you.
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[2016]
Lucky to be alive. Lucky. To be. Alive.
It only dawned on him what happened then. Fernando sat in silence next to you, from the corner of his eyes, he could see you tidying up the small things you prepared for the interview. Alonso felt vulnerable, it’s been a while since he’s experienced such a crash.
“I should leave you to rest, hmm?” Raising his head, Fernando meets your eyes full of concern or at least that’s how he sees it. In a spur of the moment, Alonso shakes his head ‘no’.
“Can you stay for a while?” Fernando avoids your eyes, halfway in regret from being unable to control himself. To his surprise, you drop your papers sitting down next to him.
“Do you want to talk as a friend?”
A friend.
Fernando stays quiet before nodding his head.
And just like how you do all the time, just being by your side Fernando could feel himself slowly getting better. Letting himself let go of all the thoughts and worries in his head. If not now, when?
When will he have another chance to spend time with you? Not just as a friend.
It was the second time he felt it change.
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[2019]
“Congratulations Alonso!”
The corner of Fernando’s lips curl up to a smile watching you approach him closer, opening his arms, catching you in his arms. If he wasn’t already feeling better with his win, having you here by his side is even more enjoyable.
“Didn’t think you’d actually come here. Sick of the F1 Paddock?” Fernando inquisitively asked, he expected you to reply politely for support, but what he didn’t expect is for you to suddenly grow balls.
“Honestly it’s boring without you there. Why would I go when you’re here?”
Or were you always so straightforward that he didn’t notice it? Stunned. 
It was always a surprise with you, not that he minded it didn’t matter what you would’ve said, Alonso would gladly listen to you. “When did you arrive?” Clearing his throat, trying to not get your words to affect him as much as he wants to.
“Oh, I’ve been watching since yesterday, I stayed in one of the tents.” 
And there goes Alonso, surely if you had looked further into his eyes, you could see his heart doing somersaults and cartwheels. Is this your effect on him? He wasn’t that aware, but now it’s slightly concerning for him to be acting this way in front of you.
You simply stunned him. And Alonso wouldn’t have it any other way.
“It’s surprising how I managed to hide from you, to be honest my self-control isn’t that good-”
I’m sure yours is better… if only you knew mine, Alonso thought, lips curling into a smile.
“But somehow I thought, wouldn't it be better to surprise you in the end? If you win then it’ll be a surprise and a celebration. Just like now! I took so many photos of you, you want to see?”
Fernando didn’t notice you moving closer to him, showing him the photos you took of him. 
“And if I lost? What would happen then?” A smirk grows in his face, feeling proud to put you into the corner, but Fernando should know by now that you will always have the upper hand. Especially when it comes to you.
“Oh, I planned on giving you a big kiss, comfort you and take you out for dinner. But isn’t it good that you won?”
The way Fernando’s face fell at the thought of getting a kiss from you sounded a lot better than winning.
Joder! I’d rather kiss YN than win… Is this where I’m at now? 
“What a shame that I won then, are kisses only for losers?” Fernando ought to shut up, but he just can’t let you win, taking blow after blow he’s been hit hard where it hurts. His ego and what could’ve been a kiss from you.
As if you couldn’t surprise him more, Fernando stood frozen watching you move closer to him, hands wrapped on both of his cheeks. He could feel the coldness of your hands against the warmth of his cheeks, pressing a small kiss on the side of his face totally catching him off guard.
“Winners get one kiss. Losers get two.” 
Fernando can’t help but burst out laughing, eliciting the same to you laughing along with the sound of his laughter. “What?”
Alonso shakes his head, face red from the blushing, laughing, or just being in the same proximity as you. You’re full of surprises, he’ll give you that, but he completely surprises himself in the end.
Fighting the urge to kiss you then and there, Fernando settles on grabbing your hands, “Let’s get out of here. Let’s go on that dinner you were talking about.”
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[2021]
Getting out of his seat, Fernando immediately looks around for you. The energy, adrenaline, and excitement fueling him. Walking towards his team waiting for him by the barricades cheering, yet his eyes linger towards you.
Behind a camera with a wide smile on your face, Alonso waves as you mirror his movements. It’s as if time had stopped, as you capture his moments, Fernando has already ingrained you in his mind.
Coming back to Formula One wasn’t easy. He had sacrifices to make, but seeing the warmth and familiarity of your face around the track. He kept his shoulders up.
Now more stable than ever, his sacrifices, priorities, and privilege will all be tested as the season comes to an end. Nevertheless, Fernando is grateful to have you by his side.
It’ll only be the beginning for more changes to come, and with you by his side, there’s nothing stopping him now.
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[2023]
“You're back with the interviews?” Fernando sits at the other side of the table overlooking the view of the yacht dock.
“My favorite driver is on the grid, so why not. I thought this was our thing?” Fernando watches as you prepare the papers in front of you, head tilting, focused doing your own things. Sitting back and letting you do your magic, Fernando grabs one of your cameras.
You were always behind the lens of your beloved camera, Alonso remembered you saying to him that this was one of your oldest cameras. You also gave Fernando free reign in using your camera, he wasn’t aware of the magnitude of you letting him use your camera, but knowing how special it is to you, Alonso knew to handle it with care.
Fernando turned on the camera immediately looking for the photos you took in them. He has an inkling of the contents inside them, but what he didn’t expect was the overwhelming amount of photos you have of him.
Going as far back as 2003, photos of him in his first win in Hungary, photos of him in podiums, smiling, some showcasing his losses, photos of him with past teammates and in various uniforms.
The feeling dawned on him, you’ve been there from the start, watching him through the lens. Seeing himself from your eyes, Alonso was taken aback at the photos. As if you couldn’t sweep him off his feet even more, learning this about you even made him fall in love with you more than he already is.
“Why are you crying?” 
Your voice breaks his train of thought, blinking away the moisture poling into his eyes. Alonso isn’t one to be emotional, but seeing your love flow through the pictures from the screen, fills his heart heavy with emotion.
Wiping his tears, Alonso places the camera back on the table. “I never thought I would feel this way about these…” Fernando watches you shuffle around, dropping everything as you move beside him.
“I remember telling you about these photos. They’re all about you.”
Alonso nods his head, still deep in thought, beyond belief at his love for you, ever growing every single day.
“I never saw myself like this… how you capture my every moment, through the good and bad. I feel loved, and I love you.” Fernando, professing his love for you. Truly, one of the best seasons.
You allowed him to see himself in a different light, different from what the media says, the roles he played in the sport, a conniving villain. You allowed him to see himself in a new perspective.
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amgf death of a bachelor comes to a close. thank you for supporting the series this far, i laughed, cried and felt a rollercoaster of emotions writing this. i hope you enjoy this, until the next series <3
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byersbootyshorts · 1 year
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Not So Smart Now (S.R.)
Spencer’s intelligence and cocky attitude has always infuriated you. So, when given the chance, you revel in putting him in his place.
Word Count: 2,882
EXPLICIT CONTENT MINORS DNI!!
Warnings: sub!s7!Spencer, dom!reader, smut, unprotected sex, hate sex, dumbification, slapping, degradation, alcohol consumption, language
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cocky Spencer is so yummy I wanna rip him apart
This case had been rough. The unsub had slipped through your fingers again and again and each time it seemed like he slipped further away. You forced your eyes to focus as you combed through a plethora of files, trying desperately to find something that could link the unsub to his victims. You sipped your coffee like your life depended on it, but not even the caffeine could help you find what you were missing. Morgan was sitting opposite you and he sighed in frustration. Emily paced back and forth going through the case in her head. You were all stumped.
You looked up at the investigation board, trying to give your eyes a rest from the tiny black letters they’d been staring at. You scanned the photos of the crime scenes. All of the women were found dead in their backyard. Drowned in the clean blue waters of their outdoor pools. You raised a brow, your eyes flicking frantically between the photos. The clean… blue… CLEAN!
“Oh my God, that’s it!” you exclaimed, springing out of your chair in excitement. Emily and Morgan looked at you with expectant expressions.
“What?” Emily asked after you stared in awe at what you’d missed for so long.
“All the pools, they were-,” you began, but just as you were about to explain your theory, Spencer burst through the door, not even aware that you were revealing a crucial part of the case, and began rambling.
“Guys, all the pools were cleaned the day each victim was killed. There wasn’t so much as a leaf or a bug sitting on the surface of the water. So, I checked, and they all hired the same pool cleaner.”
Spencer set a file down on the table that contained a picture of the guy you assumed was the unsub that had been evading you for so long. But you couldn’t even feel relief that you’d finally found him. Because you didn’t find him. Well, you would’ve if Spencer ‘boy genius’ Reid hadn’t of found him first.
The team rifled through photos and records of the unsub for a few minutes before Morgan finally asked you, “Oh, what was it you figured out?”
You glanced over at Spencer with a look that could kill before answering, “It doesn’t matter now. I think Spencer’s got it all covered.” Your voice was higher pitched than usual as you tried your best to fake a pleasant tone. You plastered a false smile on your face and Morgan shrugged, looking back down at the pages on the table.
You tried to follow suit, picking up a page printed with the guy’s phone records. You knew the only thing on your mind should be figuring out how to find this son of a bitch. But you couldn’t concentrate. You were literally seconds away from saying exactly what Spencer said before he stormed in and stole your thunder. He did it all the time. And you hated him for it.
The case was solved and the unsub was found. As always, the team congratulated Spencer on figuring it all out. And you allowed them to. One thing didn’t want to do was make a fuss and say you solved it too. But if he smiled that stupid, cocky smile one more time, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to contain your anger. And sure enough, you couldn’t.
You had just touched down at Quantico. You walked with Emily and JJ to the bullpen to collect some things before leaving. Then, as always, you ended up standing around your desk chatting about the case.
“I don’t think I’ve ever drunk as much coffee in a 24 hour period than I did on that case,” Emily laughed.
“It was rough,” JJ sighed. “I’m glad we got him. I don’t know how many pools there are in Florida but if we hadn’t of caught him I’m sure he wouldn’t have run out of victims.”
You smiled. Finally this was something that would prove your intelligence to the group.
“Actually there’s one mill-,”
“There are one million, five hundred and ninety thousand pools in Florida.”
You turned around to glare at who’d interrupted you. Your eyes narrowed when you saw Spencer sitting at his desk. He hadn’t even looked up from his computer before he’d stolen your opportunity to be smart.
“Oh my God!” you shouted, your eyes widening in disbelief. Of course he had interrupted you again.
Spencer turned to face you at the sound of your raised voice. A puzzled expression spread across his face. He was clueless. He didn’t even know he was doing it.
You knew you should just let it slide and say, “Yeah, that’s correct,” or “That’s what I was going to say,” but you couldn’t this time. You were done putting up with him constantly undermining you.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you said, almost laughing at just how much of an ignorant asshole he was.
“Huh?” Spencer grunted, getting up from his desk and walking towards the three of you.
“You don’t even know what you’re doing, do you?” you asked. You stepped forward so there were only inches between the two of you. Your eyes stared daggers into his.
Spencer shook his head in confusion, his breath wavering slightly. You pretended not to notice the blood rush from his face and down his neck towards… Nope. You weren’t thinking about that.
“You know what, just forget it,” you said, stepping away from him. “You’re not worth my time.” You grabbed your bag, stormed out of the building, got in your car, and sped home.
It had been about thirty minutes since you’d slammed your apartment door, grabbed a bottle of vodka from your cabinet and sat on your couch, scrolling aimlessly through random TV channels. You drank straight from the bottle, your mind reeling with hatred for Spencer. It was like he had some sort of radar that could sense when you were going to say something impressive. And when that radar went off, he had to come in and ruin everything. He was such a know-it-all. And maybe he did know it all, but he didn’t have to rub it in everyone’s faces all the time.
You took another swig from the bottle and sighed. You had no idea how you were going to face him the next day. Being on the team with him was becoming insufferable. You had to do something to stop yourself from wanting to punch him every time you saw him.
It was just past midnight, but you were still wide awake, when you heard a knock on your door. Your brow furrowed as you considered who it could be at this late hour. You set the bottle of vodka on the coffee table and went to unlock the door. When the door swung open your eyes darkened at the figure in front of you. It was Spencer.
“What is your problem with me?” he asked, not even bothering to say hello.
You let out an uncontrollable laugh of sheer anger at his utter obliviousness. The only reason he should be showing up at your door in the middle of the night was to apologise. And yet here he was, not even aware of what he’d done wrong.
“You are unbelievable,” you sighed, turning away from the door and walking back into your apartment. Spencer took that as an invitation to come in, so he stepped forward and shut the door behind him.
“No, seriously, why don’t you like me?” he insisted. “Because I can’t think of anything I’ve done to you that should make you act like this.”
Spencer’s voice raised and his tone became sharp. You couldn’t believe this. He was angry? He had no right to be angry with you.
“Well, Doctor Reid, maybe you’re not as smart as you think you are if you can’t figure out something that’s so painfully obvious,” you snapped.
“Enlighten me, then. Tell me why you hate me so much,” Spencer retorted.
“No,” you said. “If you can’t see what you’re doing wrong then I’m not telling you.”
“Tell me why you hate me and I’ll tell you why I hate you.”
You paused for a moment. You knew your feelings towards him were of hatred, but you had no idea he returned those feelings. Now you were curious
“I hate you because you can’t shut up for one second to let someone else say something smart for once,” you began hastily, desperate to know what he hated about you, but also relieved to get everything off your chest. “Everyone knows you’re a genius, Spencer. You don’t need to prove it all the damn time.”
“What, so you hate me because I’m smart?” Spencer questioned.
“No, I hate you because you don’t let anyone else be smart. I hate you because you get that stupid little grin on your face every time you say something smart.” You began walking towards him, slowly backing him against the wall. “I hate you because every time I see you I have to force myself not to slap that cocky grin right off your face.”
Spencer stayed silent for a moment. He was almost right up against the wall. Your face was so close to his you could feel his breath. You could also feel something else starting to grow in his pants.
“Well, don’t force yourself this time,” Spencer breathed.
“What?” you asked, confused.
“Hit me,” he said bluntly, his mouth widening into that familiar, infuriating grin.
“Oh, don’t tempt me,” you said, taking a step back.
“No, do it. Hit me,” he said, genuinely.
You gave him a hesitant look but he continued to smirk like he was the smartest man alive. You made up your mind. He was giving you the opportunity and you weren’t going to turn it down. You raised your hand and slapped him hard on the cheek. Spencer whined and his hand flew to his face. He rubbed the red mark that was appearing on his cheekbone but his eyes never left yours. And that stupid grin remained on his face.
“Just out of curiosity, is there anything you do like about me?”
You seriously considered his question. You tried to think of one thing you liked about him. It was harder than you thought. Until you remembered the way his breath hitched when you got near him.
“I like that when you look at me your dick gets hard,” you said calmy, grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand away from his face. “I like that I have the power over you to make you do that.” You traced your fingers over the red spot where your hand hit his cheek. “You might be a genius but you’re still just a man. You have needs.” With your other hand, you lightly touched the bulge in his pants. He swallowed but still his eyes remained locked on yours. “Your mind might be one of the greatest of our time, but your body is just like every other man’s. You say you hate me but your body’s telling me something very different. It’s pathetic.” You pushed him back again so he hit the wall. “I could lower your IQ one hundred points just by fucking you,” you whispered.
“Wanna bet?” Spencer raised an eyebrow.
Without hesitation you slammed your lips onto his. He whimpered as his head hit the wall behind him, but soon he melted into the kiss. You could feel his lips curl upwards against yours. He was fucking smiling. He was enjoying this. That only enraged you more. You pushed yourself away from him and glared at him.
“Come here,” you said, turning around and walking towards your bedroom. You escorted Spencer inside the dimly lit room and turned to face him again. You looked down at the ever-growing bulge in his pants and began unbuckling his belt in silence. He sighed when you pulled down his underwear.
“You know what? I excepted more from you, Doctor Reid,” you said finally, smirking down at his below average sized cock that was now fully exposed to you.
Spencer said nothing, but, for the first time, his eyes drifted away from yours.
“Oh, don’t worry. That’s not a bad thing,” you smiled, wrapping your hand around it. “That just means I can take it for longer.”
You picked up the pace of your hand and Spencer moaned quietly. His head fell to lean on your shoulder and he sucked a spot on your neck. Eventually, you lifted your hand from his dick and began unbuttoning his shirt. When you pulled his shirt off his arms you turned your mouth to his ear and whispered, “I’m going to fuck you dumb.”
You pushed him down onto the bed. He lay there while you undressed, taking in your figure. You climbed on top of him and his hands immediately travelled to your thighs. He stared up at you with that smart ass glint in his eye. He wouldn’t look like that for long.
You didn’t flinch as you lowered yourself onto his dick. Spencer squirmed slightly beneath you, trying his best to stifle a whimper.
“I- I know a ton of other facts about Florida, you know. Not just how many pools there are” he said, his smugness slowly draining from his body as you rode him.
“You won’t know them for long,” you smiled, alternating your pace between fast and slow. Your inconstant rhythm was torturing Spencer.
“It’s state flower is the orange blossom,” he said confidently. “And it’s the flattest US state.”
“Shut up,” you whispered, anger flaring up in you again. You wished you could tear his brain right out of his head.
“It’s also 65,758 square m-miles, making it the 22nd largest s-state,” he continued, his words slowly starting to slur.
You looked down at the egotistical smile that was still plastered on his face, despite his stuttering. “Shut up!” you said, raising your voice. You lifted your hand and slapped him again. Harder this time. The whimper that Spencer had been holding in since you started finally escaped his lips.
And, at last, he shut up. The only noise he made was the occasional whine every time you quickened your pace.
“You masochistic fuck,” you laughed, grabbing his shoulders as your thighs began to burn. “All I had to do was hit you again and you’re reduced to a whimpering mess.”
“Shit,” Spencer breathed. “I- I’m go-.” But he couldn’t even warn you before you felt his cum shoot inside of you.
“Not so smart now, huh Doc?” you said shakily. Your breathing was ragged but that didn’t stop you. It didn’t matter that Spencer was finished. You weren’t.
Spencer didn’t get time to recover from his high as you immediately began to pick up your pace again, grinding harder and harder as his cum seeped out between your legs.
“Why don’t you tell me another fact?” you taunted. He looked as though he couldn’t speak, never mind tell you a fact. “What about an easy one? What’s the population of Florida?” you asked.
“It’s, uh- I don’t-. Fuck, I don’t know,” he stuttered.
“Seems like I won the bet then,” you panted. His hips jerked up and you moaned at the sudden movement. Finally seeing Spencer a pathetic heap below you sent you over the edge. You came without a uttering a word. The sensation caused Spencer to shake beneath you as he came for the second time.
You rolled off him and sighed. Spencer’s chest moved rapidly up and down as he tried to catch his breath.
“Fuck,” he said under his breath, brushing his hands through his hair.
“What? Are you annoyed that I made you dumb?” you asked, your voice laced with patronization. He rolled his eyes at you and you turned onto your side so your face was close to his.
“You know, you never told me why you hate me,” you said, running your finger down his chest, making his stomach tense.
“It doesn’t matter,” Spencer mumbled, his face flushing slightly.
“Yes it does,” you argued. “I told you, so now you have to tell me.”
Spencer hesitated for a moment before he whispered, barely audibly, “I hate you because… Well, I-.”
“I can’t hear you,” you said, looking at him expectantly.
“I hate you because I’ve wanted you to do that to me since the day I met you,” he blurted out.
You chuckled, grabbing his chin between your finger and thumb. “Well, if you’d told me that when you met me then this could’ve happened a lot sooner.”
“You wanted this to happen?” Spencer asked, a smile forming on the corners of his mouth.
“I wanted to prove you’re not a genius all the time. The sex is just an added bonus,” you explained.
Spencer’s cocky grin appeared back on his face and in an instant you were reminded of how much you detested him.
“Oh, it’s a bonus?” Spencer smirked. “Does that mean you want to do it again?”
You scoffed at his confidence. “I hate you,” you groaned, as you climbed back on top of him, ready to leave him a dumb, pathetic mess once more.
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dracoxsworld · 11 months
Note
Can you do a fic where ron was jelly bc the reader was being too friendly to draco and had to show her who she belonged to ?
Hello friend! Thank you so much for the suggestion! I hope this is good enough for you :) I’m doing some requests as I prep the next part of arranged, I’m very excited.
WARNINGS: dom!ron x sub!reader, kinda rough sex ngl, jealousy, angry ron, p in v, oral sex both sides receiving, fingering, reader has female anatomy.
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photo edited by me :)
You and Ron have been together for quite a while. Everyone knew you were together, no one even questioned it. Ron liked it that way.
You were his and nobody could do anything about it. He had always had a slight jelousy for his best friend, Harry Potter. He always got everything he had wanted. Ron thought Harry could get any girl he wanted with ease. So when Ron met you and got into a relationship with you, he is never going to let you go.
This was his opportunity to show the school, his family, the world, that he wasn't Harry Potter's lame and single best friend, he had the prettiest girl in school on his arm; and he was particularly protective.
Some of your peers liked to use you to annoy Ron; or try to make him feel insecure. This of course, included Draco Malfoy. You were a tad naive to realize it. You were simply thinking he was just trying to be your friend. It started out as you both being assigned as partners in potions. Draco was well aware of you and Ron being together; and used that to his advantage. He’d flirt with you, constantly talk to you, all while Ron would watch, just thinking.
“So Y/L/N, what’re you doing after class today?” Draco asked, side eyeing Ron, who was seated with Seamus. (Not a good mix, by the way.)
“Oh! I’m not sure, I need to study for Transfiguration…I’m struggling a bit.” You said while chewing on your bottom lip, reading the inked-in instructions for the current potion you both were assigned.
“I can help you with that, you know.” Draco suggested. This had caught your attention, you looked up from your potions book and smiled politely.
“Oh, no I’m okay, I believe Ron is assisting me,” you declined, looking over at your red headed boyfriend; who was watching you both the whole time. His arms were crossed, his eyes were darker than usual.
“Are you sure?” Draco voiced again, stepping closer to you, sliding the potions book away with one hand. You got nervous, just before you could respond, Professor Snape announced that class had dismissed, and you’d have to finish todays project tomorrow.
You swiftly grabbed your bag and ran out the door, leaving some of your belongings on your desk.
You ran to your dorm room, feeling a sense of panic. You were hoping Ron wasn’t think you were engaging with Draco’s behavior, that you weren’t flirting back.
You shook your head at the thought. Ron knows better, you told yourself. He would never think I’d do that.
Does he?
You had opened the door to your dorm quickly and slid in and slammed it, locking it. You set your bag in the floor and flung your body onto your unmade bed. “Stupid Y/N. It’s so obvious he was flirting with you.” You mumbled to yourself, your face squished into your duvet. You sat up and looked in your body-length mirror.
Your hair was a bit of a mess, probably from you flinging yourself onto your bed. You ran your hands through your hair to make it look a bit nicer, and gave yourself a small smile of reassurance.
Knock knock knock knock
You jumped, and turned towards your door. “Please don’t tell me your name is Draco Malfoy.” You groaned.
“You’re damn right it isn’t.” Your boyfriends voice boomed through your door. It startled you, it was his voice but it sounded different. “Ron?” You fled out.
“Yes, open the door.” Ron demanded. You did as you were told and unlocked the door and peeked through. You saw your beautiful boyfriend looking down at you, looking not too happy.
You looked down and noticed he had the belongings you had left at your desk in his arms. Some potion bottles, your book, and some quills. You then noticed his knuckles looked slightly stained with red, and bruised.
You looked back up at him with your lips parted and eyebrows furrowed, still peeking through the small crack in the door.
“Are you going to let me in?” Ron asked impatiently. You nodded and let him in, closing the door behind him. Ron set down your supplies on your desk neatly. Setting the potion bottles up on their designated shelves, putting your quills in ink you had, and setting your book in your built in shelf in your desk.
He turned towards you and slowly walked up to you. You were picking a hangnail, unable to get even a sound out. “Draco has taken quite a liking to you.” Ron seethed. You shook your head. “I disregarded him, Ron. You know I’d never—“
“I’m not worried about you, pretty girl.” He specified, his hand lifting your chin towards him. You licked your lips, looking at his. He smiled down at you. “I’m going to show him that you’re mine, he’s going to hear you. He’s going to see you all fucked up from me.”
Your underwear was wet, your eyes widened and you rubbed your thighs together at his words. “On the bed, pretty.” He prodded you, pushing you towards the bed. You listened, wanting him to do whatever he wanted to you. To be honest, you loved it when he got this way. There was something about it that immediately turned you on.
He took off he belt, keeping his eye contact with you. You sat up on the bed, your eyes scanning him up and down. He took off his uniform pants, sliding off his shoes with them. He crawled on top of you, his hands beginning to fiddle with your button up shirt. “These bloody buttons-“ He grumbled before crashing his lips into yours, it was aggressive but loving all at once. It was demanding, you stood no chance of taking over. You let him have control.
He got fed up with your shirt at one point he just ripped it off, buttons flew everywhere. “Ron!” You exclaimed, breaking the kiss.
“Shut it, you have hundreds of those blasted shirts.” He spat. He kissed you again, harsher, and unclasping your bra. He threw it across the room carelessly, not taking any attention off of you, he pushed you back toward the headboard of the bed, putting you in his lap so you were straddling him. His hands were everywhere; your hair, your waist, the hem of your skirt, etc.
Ron’s fingers crept past your skirt, and they lightly grazed your clothed heat. You moaned in his at the feeling immediately. “You drive me fucking crazy, do you understand?” Ron mumbled in the kiss. You nodded, hardly containing your sounds of pleasure from his fingers teasing your soaking wet core, your panties still acting as a barrier. “I want to hear your response.” He prodded. “Yes Ron, I understand,” you whimpered. Ron’s hips grinded upwards towards yours, as his finger continued to tease your core still clothed.
“Please–“ you begged him in the heated kiss. You wanted him now, you didn’t care how. Ron broke the kiss, still teasing you “Please what, princess?”
“I want your mouth,” You pleaded, your face pink from embarrassment. “What a perfect idea, pretty. Only if you moan my name loud enough will determine if I let my pretty girl cum, how does that sound?”
You moaned, his fingers were still lightly touching you. You needed more, this wasn’t enough. You tried to grind towards his fingers more, and he immediately took them away. You whined, it felt like torture. “Don’t be a brat.” He demanded. He slid himself out from under you, so you were laying in the pillows and on your back, and flipped your skirt up into your belly. He laid on his stomach and inches himself close to in-between your legs.
He teasingly licked slowly up the inside of your thighs, making you moan his name, your hands in his red hair pulling it like reins. He hummed as he got closer to your core, with your now saturated panties. You felt lightheaded, this wasn’t fair, you needed him desperately more than ever. Your core was aching for his mouth. “Fuck Ron, please please!” You cried desperately. He finally complied, hooking his fingers under your soaked panties and pulled them off.
“My goodness, excited are we?” Ron teased, licking his lips. Your pussy was dripping, begging for him to clean you up. He went in immediately afterwards, slowly licking your core up and down. Focusing on each inch. In circles, his tongue went. He planted a few kisses, and went back to licking up your juices. You threw your head back and screamed his name, forgetting you both didn’t set a Muffliato spell. Oh well, Draco’ll definitely hear you.
He hummed as he ate you out, making it even more pleasurable. “Ron, fuck!” You moaned loudly, felt like you shook your dorm walls. You saw him smile and he was licking every inch. His tongue abused your hole, going in and out as his thumb played with your clit. “God, Draco wishes he could lick your cunt like this, fuck Y/N.” Ron groans
You felt a knot forming in your stomach, your legs were shaking violently. “Ron, I’m close!” You moaned. He immediately backed away. You moaned in frustration.
“Ron please, I can’t take much more,” you begged. Your boyfriend shook his head at you and laughed. he took your jaw in his hand “You’re going to earn it, you’re going to learn to not even look in Malfoy’s direction. Understood?” Ron demanded. You nodded, tears falling down your cheeks. Your core was dripping, making a wet spot on your sheets.
“You’re going to pleasure me” Ron announces.
You got up on your knees, which were very weak. Ron’s hard cock was easily visible in his boxers, he slid them off letting it free. He got up from the bed and stood towards the edge. You got on your stomach with your legs in the air and crossed behind you, taking his length in your mouth immediately, licking off the pre-cum.
“Fuck baby, you already know what to do.” Ron groaned, collecting your hair and making a ponytail with his hand, wrapping it around his fist. This made you groan in his dick, rolling your eyes back, but still staying stable enough. You pumped him with your hand and he guided your head, bobbing it up and down on his dick. He again, had a majority of control. That bastard.
His dick was hitting violently against the back of your through causing the urge to gag. You free hand was balled up in a fist with your nails going into your skin making crescent-shaped indents, trying to distract yourself from the urge.
“Take it, look at me.” Ron demanded, your eyes fluttered open and looked at him. “Malfoy couldn’t fuck your mouth this could, could he? Huh? You’re stuffed with my cock.” You made noises at his response, rubbing your thighs together. You shut your eyes again trying to focus on not orgasming right there, even with the absence of his touch.
“Eyes on me, I said.” Ron’s voice boomed again. You whined and opened your eyes agin and looked at him. He threw his head back, his mouth agape, “Pretty girl, I’m close,” He groaned, eyebrows together. You bummed around his dick, head being pushed on it up and down violently by his hands gripping your hair. His hand pushing you on his dick started getting off beat and sloppy, you knew he was very close.
You went faster and faster, ignoring the tears and sweat rolling down your face. You felt his warm liquid roll down your throat as his dick twitched and his loud moans were all you heard.
He hands gently ran through your hair, he pulled out of your mouth and looked down at you. His smile was wicked, but you still saw the love behind it. “On your back, on you go.” You excitedly complied. Your body was aching for him, begging him to fuck the shit out of you. you flipped your skirt up to expose your cunt, soaking wet from his sexual torture. Ron hovered over you, his arms on both sides of you, he leaned down and left sloppy kisses on your neck and collarbones, leaving bite marks. You moaned his name and begged for him to pleasure you.
“You’ve been patient enough, pretty girl,” Ron said sweetly, he likes himself up to you, and teased your slit with his cock. You whines and dug your nails into his back.
He entered into you, giving you time to adjust. You felt so full, so good. “Ron, fuck.” You whined.
“Pretty girl, you feel so perfect; so warm and tight, fuck.” Ron groaned into your neck. His pace was slow, it hit the right spot, he knew you so well. The room was full of your moans and the smell of sex.
Ron had sped up, the sound of your skin slapping together joined the sounds of pleasure you both were making together. His dick was hitting your g-spot like a arrow on the middle of a target. Over and over again. Meanwhile, he continued to leave hickeys on your chest, collar bones and shoulders.
He then sat up and tossed your legs over his shoulders, exposing you more. He railed into you, more aggressively now. Your eyes were full of tears from pure pleasure. The knot in your stomach was forming again.
“Ron, please– let me-“ You moaned, looking him in the eye.
“I am too, cum in my cock baby, come on,” Ron grunted.
After a few more thrusts, you both hit your point, both of you groaning simultaneously, Ron then pulling out and collapsing next to you. You both were covered in sweat, and each others fluids. Ron’s hands ran over his chest that was rapidly going up and down.
“Y/N?” Ron perked up, holding himself up by one arm, looking down at you.
“Yes, Ron?”
“I love you, you know that, right? I just can’t stand Malfoy talking to you like that..”
“Of course, Ron. I love you too. He’s not really interested in me, he just does it to piss you off, I think.” You replied, your hand on his cheek. He gave you a doubtful look.
“However, I should talk to Malfoy more often, that was quite fun.” You chuckled. Ron rolled his eyes at you, and gave you a kiss on the nose.
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cherryflavoured7777 · 7 months
Text
It Might As Well Be Worth It For Once [h.c]
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Summary: After a photo of you kissing your crush, Hazel Callahan, goes viral among students at your university, you try to navigate the backlash you receive on top of your newfound feelings for her.
Pairing: College!Hazel Callahan x College!fem!reader
Contains: reader sort of figuring out her sexuality, homophobia, explicit language, d slur, slut shaming, drinking, partying, violence, no explicit smut just heavy make-outs, scary ex-boyfriends, evil frat bros
word count: 3k
A/N: This is loosely inspired by Taylor Swift's song "Slut!" so listen if you want to set the mood!
Your first kiss with Hazel Callahan happened at a party, initiated by a simple dare. In the middle of a crowded kitchen, surrounded by sticky solo cups and cigarette smoke, you watched Hazel as she spoke. “Dare.” She stated to her brown-haired friend.
“Okay,” PJ starts and her eyes dart around the room,
“I dare you…” PJ’s eyes find you and she points her finger at your frame “to kiss her.”
“Real original, PJ,” Hazel remarks as she makes her way over to you.
At first, you didn't give it much thought, dismissing it as just a harmless dare amidst the alcohol-fueled chaos of the party. But as you followed through and Hazel's lips met yours, something in you shifted, and every sensation suddenly heightened. The taste of tequila on her tongue mixed with the smell of her sharp cologne made your head dizzy.
The kiss, though quick, left a new feeling that you couldn't forget. You were amazed at how in sync your movements were with each other, considering you barely knew Hazel. You’d seen her a couple of times in class, walking around campus in her stylish outfits, and at parties like these. She was friends with your roommate, Isabel, so she did run in the same social circle as you.
When Hazel eventually pulled away from the kiss, the absence of her touch left you wanting more. You leaned forward, instinctively chasing her lips. Embarrassment washed over you, reality kicking in, and you were suddenly hyper-aware of yourself. With the re-realization that it was just a game you were playing, you buried the feelings deep within your stomach, locking them away and deciding they should never be explored.
-
You found Hazel a few weeks later, outside one of the dorm buildings, returning home from another late night. That night, a couple of drinks deep, you summoned the courage to confess what had been consuming your thoughts. Her soft brown hair, her big blue eyes, her attractive scent, and how soft her lips were on yours.
Something felt different about your infatuation with Hazel, and you were dying to just be close to her again.
"I don’t know what it is about you, Hazel," you say, your back leaning against the side of the bricked building. "I’m never like this with anyone," you whisper, avoiding eye contact.
"I haven't been able to stop thinking about our kiss, and I know that's ridiculous because it was just a stupid dare at a party." Hazel sensed your vulnerability in that moment. She took a step toward you and reached for your hand, gently playing with your fingers, which hung between both of you. As you rambled on, she stared and smiled at you, enjoying your attempt to express your feelings.
"Yeah?" She nodded at you, leaning in a bit closer with a cocky grin. "You liked it that much, huh?"
You avoided her gaze again, clearly growing more embarrassed.
"Well, I was never going to tell you this,” she sucked in a breath “But before the game started, I actually told PJ to dare me to kiss you. It was the only way I thought I was ever going to be able to." Her hand moved from your hand to your waist, squeezing gently, and her eyes landed on your lips. Her confession hung heavy in the air between you both.
Feeling a rush of boldness, you couldn't hold back any longer. You grabbed her by her shirt, slowly pulling her closer, and in a moment of sheer impulsiveness, you pressed your lips firmly against hers.
Your kiss deepened, the pressure between your lips gradually intensifying, the sensation giving you goosebumps. Hazel's lips were plush and inviting, just like you remembered. Her lips left yours for a moment before attaching themselves to your jaw, then your neck, sucking gently.
“Shit, Hazel.” You sighed and your back arched against the wall, already breathless.
Her hand on your waist pulled you closer, the touch gentle yet possessive. Your fingers instinctively wound into her hair, the strands soft and silky beneath your touch.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about doing this since that night,” She says between kisses to your neck. “Want you so bad,” she whines.
Her lips found yours again, the kiss hot and passionate, fueled by the emotions that had been building between you. There was an urgency to the way your lips moved together, and you felt a soft sigh escape Hazel's lips. Your bodies pressed against each other, every inch of skin on fire from the contact.
What you didn’t notice was your ex-boyfriend's roommate, Tyler, emerged out of the dorm building's entrance. He recognized you after a minute and stared at the scene in front of him in complete shock, jaw slack. He pulled out his phone, capturing the moment with a camera click. Lost in the intensity of your kiss, neither of you had noticed him. He snickered at his discovery, feeling proud of this piece of information he was now sitting on.
-
In the days that followed, you and Hazel became inseparable, caught up in the intoxication of a budding romance and newfound feelings. Mundane moments were made ten times better just by her presence. You’d been in relationships before, but not like this.
Taking walks hand in hand, you found the quiet corners of your college town, finding comfort in how easy it was to be around each other.
Movie marathons turned into shared glances and stolen kisses, the screen flickering in the background as you explored this new person. Your connection was so intense, it often escalated into heavy makeout sessions in Hazel's dorm, losing yourselves in the heat of the moment.
You were lying in bed, your head resting on Hazel's chest while her arm encircled you. The soft glow from Hazel's laptop illuminated the room, displaying a scene where two characters were kissing in a pool.
“I’ve always wanted to do that,” you said.
Hazel's hand gently rubbed your shoulder. “Do what, hm?”
“Make out in a pool. It just seems so… liberating.” You shifted in her arms to gaze up at her.
“How is making out while standing in a body of water any different than doing it on land?” She laughed, looking down at you.
“You'll find out when we do it one day,” you said with a smirk. “It’s gonna blow your mind.”
“I don’t know, I think our kisses are already pretty mind-blowing. But I’ll hold you to it,” she replied, her eyes fixed on your lips.
Just then, your phone rang, and it was a call from Isabel. You answered it, still comfortably lazing on Hazel as she absentmindedly stroked your hair.
“Hey Isabel, what's up?”
“I just wanted to check on you and see how you're doing…”
“I’m fine, I’m just at Hazel’s, I’ll be back soon though.”
“Have you seen the photo? Of you and Hazel?” She blurts out.
You sit up, your heart beating frantically as you press the phone closer to your ear. Hazel looks at you, her expression shifting from contentment to concern, sensing the change in your demeanor.
"What photo, Isabel?" you ask, your voice tight with worry.
"It's on Instagram," Isabel replies, her tone heavy with concern. "Someone posted a picture of you and Hazel, and the comments… they're awful. Homophobic slurs, slut-shaming… I thought you should know."
A lump forms in your throat, and you glance at Hazel, who grips your hand reassuringly, silently offering her support. "I haven't seen it," you admit, your voice shaky. "But thanks for letting me know."
"I reported the comments, but I don't know how long it'll take for them to be taken down," Isabel continues, her voice filled with empathy. "I'm here for you, okay? Don't let those ignorant people get to you." You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart.
"Thanks, Isabel," you say, your voice quivering. "I appreciate your support. I'll talk to you later, okay?”
"Of course," Isabel replies, her voice softening. "I’ll see you later tonight.”
With trembling hands, you grabbed your phone to see it for yourself.
There it was - the innocent moment captured in a snapshot, now tainted by the cruelty of strangers. As you scrolled through the comments, your heart pounded in your chest, each hateful word striking like a physical blow.
The pain intensified with every comment, echoing the doubts that had been gnawing at the corners of your mind. Hazel peered over your shoulder, her expression a mix of anger and concern.
"Ignore them," she urged, her voice soft yet determined. "They don't know us”
But the words had already burrowed deep within you, festering like a poison. A sense of overwhelming shame washed over you, overpowering Hazel's words. The room felt suffocating, the walls closing in, and in a desperate attempt to escape, you grabbed your jacket and phone, your hands trembling as you stuffed it into your pocket.
"I can't stay here," you muttered, your voice strained, your eyes avoiding Hazel's gaze. "I need to get away from all of this."
Hazel reached out, her fingers brushing against your arm, her eyes pleading. "Please, don't run out like this," she implored, her voice cracking with emotion.
"I can't stay here," you repeated, your voice cracking as you met Hazel's gaze, filled with self-doubt. "We shouldn't see each other anymore." The words hung heavily between you, an unbearable admission of defeat. You turned away, unable to face the look in Hazel's eyes, and made your way to the door.
"Wait," Hazel pleaded, her voice raw with emotion, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop.
The door creaked shut behind you, sealing off the warmth and safety of the room you had shared with Hazel. Tears blurred your vision as you hurried down the dimly lit corridor, the echoes of your footsteps a haunting reminder of the distance growing between you and her.
-
It had been a month since you left Hazel in her dorm room. A miserable month to say the least. You felt so guilty for hurting her, but were also dealing with the hurt you felt from your privacy being so rudely invaded. Not to mention the straight-up awful comments you both received. But tonight, you were at a party you had reluctantly agreed to go to. Isabel and her girlfriend Josie convinced you that you needed to get out of your head and let loose.
Flamingo pink and aquamarine neon lights cast an ambiance on the frat house walls. The floor was sticky and the speakers were playing a rap song you didn’t know.
“Dude, we’re so young, you have your whole life ahead of you to fall in love and date hot people,” Isabel said, raising her glass to you. “Like, being this young is art. Cheers to that.” Isabel clinks her shot glass to yours. You tip your head back and shoot the tequila, burning your throat as it goes down. You needed any excuse to take a shot right now.
"I’m just going to go get us some more drinks and find Josie, okay?" Isabel gives you a reassuring look, and you nod before she disappears toward the bar. You do your best to make it look like you’re busy without your friend there, opening your phone, turning your brightness down, and scrolling through the calendar and weather app hoping no one can see over your shoulder.
“Well would you look who it is” You hear a familiar, sinister voice come from behind you. Great, it's your ex-boyfriend. Quite literally the last person on planet Earth you want to be standing face to face with right now.
“What could you possibly want right now, Josh.” You say deadpan, genuinely annoyed to be in his presence.
You and Josh had dated for four months. It was your typical college relationship, but there was always something missing, and you couldn't quite figure out what it was. He wanted sex, but you never felt quite ready to do it yet, at least not with him. Four months with no sex for a typical frat guy like Josh was absolute torture for him, so he went looking elsewhere. You ended it when you found him in bed with a brunette from the nursing program.
You can smell his mint gum as he cockily chews it and leans closer to you. “You come here to make out with more dykes, huh? You know, I always thought you were a prude, considering you never gave it up. Turns out your just a horny freak for pussy.”
His words sting. Hot tears brim at the bottom of your lash line. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry, but you’ve never been good at standing up for yourself in these situations.
“Fucking slut.” He spits, even closer to your face than he was a moment ago. He has you cornered against the wall now, your blood boiling with rage and your head spinning with shame.
In the dim light, you see a hand adorned with silver rings firmly grip onto his shoulder. Before he could react, he was yanked backward by the other figure, a swift and forceful movement that left him disoriented. The punch landed sharply, the impact reverberating through his body.
Hazel.
Her eyes met his for a moment, before she turned toward you, leaving him shocked.
Holy shit.
You stare at Hazel, stunned, your gazes locked. Bright, red blood pours from your ex-boyfriend's nose.
“What the fuck?” His hands fly up to his face. “Is this your little girlfriend?” He laughs humourlessly, pointing to Hazel. “Real fucking cute. Yeah, you’re dead’ He says as he launches toward her, only to be pulled back by another group of arms, Isabel and Josie.
“Guys! Go! We’ll take care of him”
Hazel wastes no time and grabs your hand, her fingers entwining with yours in a reassuring grip. You run alongside her, the thumping music fading as you descend the stairs and navigate the chaotic kitchen of the large frat house. Your heart races, a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation fueling your steps.
You don’t know if it's the slight buzz from earlier or the intoxicating lovesickness for the girl in front of you that continues to propel your feet forward, but you decide to just go with it. Hazel leads you through the crowd, weaving in between sweaty bodies and flashing lights.
As you step into the backyard, the cool night air hits your skin, and the scene before you unfolds like something out of a movie. A huge moonlit swimming pool stretches out, its surface rippling with the movements of people swimming in their underwear, their laughter and splashes filling the air. Realization strikes you, and you know exactly what Hazel is about to do.
With an impish grin, she turns to you, "Ready?" she asks, her voice drowned out by the music but clear in your ears. She hovers her mouth to the shell of your ear. “Just trust me, please” she whispers.
You nod, feeling a surge of adrenaline, and without another word, Hazel tugs you toward the edge of the pool.
With a shared glance, you leap into the water together, the cool embrace of the pool enveloping you. As you resurface, you find Hazel's eyes, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the pool. She looks so perfect like this, you almost forgot how stupidly into her you were.
“You look really pretty” She finally says.
“Hazel, I’m so sorry. That was so fucked up leaving you in your room like that.”
“I tried to call you,” she says, her voice tinged with disappointment.
“I know, I was too much of a coward to face you, I always bury everything that makes me uncomfortable and avoid it forever. It's unfair, you need someone who can confront those issues head-on, right away.”
“What if all I need is you?” she murmurs, her words hanging in the air, heavy with vulnerability and hope.
“Hazel…”
Your heart swells at her comment, you wanted nothing more than to hear those words come from her mouth, but your guilt makes you hesitant.
She reaches out for your hand, pulling you closer through the water, her touch reassuring. Her hands gently encircle your waist, you instinctively raise yours to rest around her neck. It feels like magnets snapping back into place,
"I don’t want to hide anymore. I don't want to be the one who runs away from difficult conversations. I want to be the one who faces challenges with you, who stands by your side no matter what." you say.
Her eyes soften, and she gives you a small smile, her grip on your back tightening. "I believe you," she says. Her voice is filled with trust.
"I mean it, Hazel," you continue, your voice steady.
She lifts your legs in both of her hands, effortlessly supporting you as you wrap them around her body beneath the water. The sensation is intimate, a silent declaration of trust and connection. Suspended in the water, your eyes meet hers, and in that moment, there's a shared understanding that goes beyond words.
Your foreheads meet each other, resting gently against one another, and your breathing hitches in anticipation as Hazel speaks. “So, are we still on for that mind blowing pool kiss?” she asks, a playful grin tugging at her lips.
A mischievous smile curves your lips in response. "Well, if they’re gonna call me a slut," you say, your voice low and sultry, "it might as well be worth it for once. I say we give them a show."
With unspoken agreement, you close the distance between your lips, capturing Hazel's mouth in a heated, passionate kiss. The world around you fades away, and all that exists is the electricity between you, the taste of her lips, and the water around your bodies.
You feel hopeful for the future, for where this could go. For where your heart might lead you. As you both pull away, breathless and smiling, you exchange a knowing glance, understanding that something has shifted between you, and you were exactly where you were meant to be.
-
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
a/n: thanks so much for reading !! this is my second fic ever so again pls forgive me if there are any mistakes. I definitely want to write more for hazel though so I am so open to requests if you ever want to send one <3333
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chaoticbardlady99 · 7 months
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I Don't Wanna Be Your Friend (Astarion x GN! Reader)
  This man has a chokehold on me and I have been plagued by this idea for about a week.
Title inspired by the song "i wanna be your girlfriend" by girl in red
CW: Mentions of violence and gore (not descriptive), bit of angst, comfort
(Not my photo. I believe it belongs to Daily Gaming)
Synopsis- You and Astarion are in the middle of a war to prove who can set the best traps. However, a lack of rules seems to have gotten you into a predicament neither one of you had anticipated.
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Sometimes you take it a smidge too far. 
 You would love to tell people you are some cunning, daring rogue, but the reality is that you are consistently flying by the seat of your pants. Occasionally it works really well- this was not one of those times.
    You never felt the need to prove anything to anyone.
Well, until you met Astarion. Within the first three days of traveling with him, your confidence and patience began to wear thin. He would make snide comments when watching you attempt to unlock a chest or when you scare off your prey by tripping over a bush. Then he would smirk at you- with that stupid, beautiful smirk.
He enjoys adding salt to the wound by taking on the task you failed at; usually lock picking, sneak attacks, and Gods only knows what else he could make fun of you for. You are very aware that you are not some fancy rogue and it never bothered you until now. You had accepted long ago that you are just a street urchin moving up in the world after teaching yourself the trade.
  The final straw had been when you had placed traps to catch dinner. Your traps had been successful (naturally- traps were your thing) and you brought back three bunnies for Gale’s stew.
Oh, but of course Astarion had something to say. He always has something to say.
  “Oh look at that- how cute. I’m sure sheerluck was on your side,” he quips, “You’ll get better eventually.”
 Thus began the war of all wars.
It started with small traps- nuisances really. Tripwire, a laughing or sleep rune well hidden, and traps that release horrible smells. Then it quickly took a turn for the worst; what were once harmless pranks turned into trip wires that release a swarm of bees, simple pits began to get deeper, and blasting traps that would send either one of you flying into a nearby object. It was never truly life threatening, just questionable.
  Well, except for the bees. The bees were not the greatest thought in hindsight; considering both you and Astarion had to help each other with the bee stings- Shadowheart refusing to be involved. You both laughed and he even complimented you on your cleverness. You swore you could have exploded in that moment.
   You have a massive, childish crush on the man and maybe the competition was your subconscious way of getting closer to him. However, your other companions were getting sick of it pretty quickly. 
  They had all hoped after the Tiefling party that the two of you would put your silly competition to rest so that you could all travel together in peace and they would just have to deal with PDA.
What a silly thing for them to think. PDA hasn't happened, but the pranks did become less risky and less frequent.  You were okay with this change.
   You feel like you and Astarion have become close friends. Even though your tryst didn’t lead to a romantic relationship as you had hoped, you were happy to have Astarion in your life in any capacity. If that was just as a friend- then so be it. 
  Which brings us back to the beginning- when you realize that your ‘trap war’ had paper thin rules and the lack of rules just might be the thing that actually kills you on this journey.
  All you wanted to do was clean yourself off. It had been one last relaxing day before you set off to the Creche, but you had thought you might treat yourself. Baths were rare and far between these days and you want to enjoy it while you have it. However, you were not planning for a simple snare trap to foil your entire evening. 
  You get hoisted up into the air, slammed against the tree, and drop all of your belongings- including the knife you brought ‘just incase’. You glared at the knife and put your hand to your blood fountain of a nose.
 “Traitor,” you whisper with a pout as you look for a way to escape the trap.
  Suddenly, you freeze as instincts kick in. You hear the Gnolls before you see them. Your bloody nose from the impact of the tree had led them to you. They attempt to claw at you- trying to rip you down from the tree. You feel their claws tear into your back, the side of your arms, and one of them even manages to take a swipe at your abdomen as you scramble to escape. The cuts weren't life threatening, but they hurt. A LOT.
  You manage to use the rope to pull yourself up onto one of the tree limbs; allowing you to hide some of your body from the Gnolls, but you now have an arrow protruding out of your right thigh so obviously that isn’t working well either.
  You bite back tears, frozen in fear. You really did not want to die this way and you certainly didn’t want it to be because of Astarion’s trap. You have a feeling he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if you died because of him. 
  You can imagine the blame and anger the rest of your companions would direct at him if the worst happened. You imagine the bloodshed- knowing full well that everyone (minus Karlach) would not forgive him for accidentally killing you. Lae’zel would be the first one to put a stake in his chest- her fondness for you is no secret. 
   Your heart thumps painfully at that thought and your resolve hardens. You will not die because you will not let that happen to Astarion. 
 You look around, your arms and legs shaking still with the residual shock and fear. You look for any sharp branches, a forgotten knife lodged somewhere, or even something you could cast a cantrip on to distract them. You have no such luck. 
 You resign yourself to your fate- the tears making a reappearance. 
 Unless one of your companions finds you first- you are going to either have to wait for the Gnolls to get bored and leave or they are going to kill you.
You pray to every God you can think of that you will survive the night.
_________________________________________________
 Astarion is trying to not look so desperate as he reads the first page for the hundredth time. 
  You had walked off a little over two hours ago- Lae’zel is on watch while the rest of your companions sleep soundly in their bed rolls. 
 The longer your bedroll remains empty, the more the pit grows in his stomach.
He didn’t know how to navigate your relationship after the tiefling party.
His feelings for you are confusing. The sex had felt different, he enjoys your company immensely, and he likes how warm he feels around you.
Instead of talking to you like a normal person or taking a moment to reflect, he decided to find some common ground- something you could laugh and talk about later. Normalcy.
He set up a snare trap close to the river you were all using to clean off and then a laughter rune trap somewhere on the path to the Creche. Hypothetically, they are very safe traps.
Unless he rigged them wrong? What if you ran into one of them and….
  No, I am sure they are just fine.
 He doesn’t even believe his own lie.
After about another five minutes, the anxiety rolling in his stomach becomes unbearable so he grabs his daggers and sets off in the direction you had gone two hours earlier.
  He walks quickly through the forest, checking his surroundings and looking for evidence that you were close by. As the minutes pass, he feels the hope of finding you safe shrink.
The wind hits his nose and he becomes stock-still.
He smells your blood- an alarming amount of it-in the air as he gets closer to the river. He fears the worst as he goes to look at the trap- hoping you will forgive him- that you are alive. Safe.
 He peers through the bushes and his eyes grow wide as the scene before him unfolds. 
  You are stuck up in the tree- his trap is still around your ankle. You are holding onto the branch like your life depends on it. It probably does since there are five Gnolls circling the tree like vultures.
  He can hear your soft broken sobs as arrows fly over you or hit the tree. He notices the arrow in your leg and watches as a second one lodges itself into your calf. You wince and close your eyes tightly- unknown to you that Astarion’s vision is clouded in red and his whole body fills with destructive, hot rage. He also feels fear, but he pushes it away, not ready to explore the why. 
  He lunges forward, slashing at the Gnolls with so much force that they are practically in half by the time they hit the forest floor. He is a man possessed as he carves his way through all five gnolls and then he climbs up the tree to you. 
His chest aches as he looks at you. He will never be able to forgive himself for causing you so much suffering.
  “Darling,” he says softly.
    You whimper in response and when you look at him- he feels all the air leave his lunges. If he needed air, he would have passed out right then. Your eyes were glassy with traces of fear, sadness, and loneliness- all emotions he is all too familiar with. Then you see it’s him and the biggest smile crosses your lips and you look at him with so much affection he almost feels ill. This was not the plan and he almost made you a midnight snack for a group of Gnolls.
  “You found me,” you say in a raspy, raw voice, “I thought I was going to be stuck here all night until Karlach or Gale found me. Or I was going to die.”
 You chuckle, but Astarion can’t get himself to share your same enthusiasm about his rescue mission as he cuts the rope. 
  He helps you down the tree and safely back on the ground. Astarion winces as you pull the arrows out of your leg. You find a healing potion amongst your things and chug it.
He collects your stuff for you. You give him another one of those brilliant smiles and Astarion tries to smile just as brightly back. You furrow your brows, but he turns away before you can keep analyzing him. 
  “We should head back,” Astarion mumbles.
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  The silence hangs in the air as Astarion walks with you back to camp. After about 15 minutes, you are back at camp and the tension in the air is suffocating.
 “Astarion.”
  Astarion freezes, turns on his heels, and looks everywhere but your eyes. He couldn’t bare to see you smile at him again- look at him like that again- not after he almost killed you.
  You maneuver yourself so you are looking in his eyes.
 “It’s not your fault,” he begins to protest when you shush him, “we didn’t set any rules and the trap itself was harmless. We didn't account for Gnolls when we started this whole thing.”
  “I almost got you killed.”
 “But you didn’t. It easily could have been you in that situation and me saving you.”
  “Will you please stop being so Gods damn forgiving,” he huffs with exasperation as he feels tears prick his eyes, “I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I put your life in danger. I almost-”
 Lost you. He chokes on the words. The fear from earlier begins to come back to the front of his mind. Watching you cling to that tree, crying, and in pain had made him realize that you just might be more important to him than he cares to admit. However, that’s a conversation for another time- once he sorts out what that feeling in his chest is whenever he looks at you.
  You look at him sharply, your eyes raw with sadness, “Stop that right now. I am okay. I lived. It was a mistake and I know your intentions were not bad. You don’t have anything to worry about Star.” 
He doesn’t say anything and you hang your head.
“I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I- I should go-“ Astarion pauses as you interrupt him.
“Please don’t leave,” you whisper, “I rather enjoy your company.”
  You look at him with tears welling in your eyes. He stares at you in stunned silence, searching your face for any sign of deception, but he doesn't find it. His body moves before his brain can process what he is doing. 
 Astarion gently cradles your face in his hands and kisses you slowly, softly. He smiles despite himself when a gasp leaves your lips. You're alive and safe. When the warmth in his chest begins to spread throughout the rest of his body, he pulls away and steps back. Your face is flushed, a beautiful blush spreading across your cheeks. You look at him with wide, unblinking eyes before you shyly smile. Astarion could have melted in that moment. He finds himself smiling too.
 “Well I’m assuming that means you are going to stay?” 
  “I suppose I’ll stay,” he says while tapping his chin, “you do need someone to make sure you aren’t getting into trouble like that again.”
 You feign hurt and scoff, “Are you suggesting that this was my fault?”
 “Maybe if you were better with traps that wouldn’t have happened,” Astarion teases.
  You narrow your eyes at Astarion and you try to hold back a smile. You roll your eyes and stick your tongue out at him.
You start towards camp before you pause and turn around. Astarion gives you a confused look.
You run over to him and place a kiss on his cheek. He tenses for a moment before relaxing again. You look at him sweetly, a soft smile on your lips.
 “Good night Astarion.”
  As you saunter towards your respective tents, Astarion takes one last glance at your tent- at you- before he lays down with his book. Except he still can’t get past the first page- he is too anxious for the sun to come up so that he can see your smile again.
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roryculkinluvr · 10 months
Text
PRETTY WHEN YOU CRY ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
ೃ⁀➷ pairing: sub stalker charlie x fem dom reader
ೃ⁀➷ warnings: stalking, masturbation, fingering, pre mature ejaculation, dacryphilia, overstimulation, humiliation kink, mean (ish) reader.
ೃ⁀➷ notes: this wasn’t supposed to be this long but enjoy…
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you had just gotten in bed, with your hands in between your legs, right above your underwear as you heard loud rustling from outside your window. you knew it was charlie. you knew he would come to your window, watch you change, watch you touch yourself.
he wasn’t aware that you knew about his perversions, how he’d cum in his pants by just watching you squirm under your own touch. was it bad that you found it hot? the way he stalked you, the way he was completely and utterly obsessed with you. you’d leave your blinds open every night, just incase he wanted a show.
you and charlie had a couple of classes together and would talk every now and then. you had always found him attractive but you knew he was infatuated with you. you saw the way he looked at you, spoke to you, about you. you’d have to be dumb not to realize.
knowing charlie was right outside your window, you hand wasn’t enough. so you decided to ‘catch’ him.
you got out of bed, walking over to your window, you could hear charlie trying to climb off the ledge of your roof. you opened the glass to it see just who you thought it was, a guilty look painted on his face.
“what are you doing here char?” you questioned, playing dumb. charlie’s eyes scanned over you, you wore pyjama shorts that fell just under your ass and a tight tank top that he could see your hard nipples through.
“i-i can, i can explain myself.” he stuttered, panicking.
“go on then.” you told him. you crossed your arms over your chest, making your tits press together which drove him mad.
“i—”he muttered, he couldn’t even think of an excuse right now.
“were you watching me touch myself?“ you teased, your lips turned up into a soft smirk. poor charlie was so confused, he thought you would file a restraining order on him but it almost seemed like you enjoyed it.
“no- no i wasn’t i swear.” his tone was meek, begging to be believed, he even put his hands up, as if you were a cop.
“i’m not stupid charlie, you can tell me the truth. you’re not in trouble.”
“okay… i was.” he couldn’t look at you while admitting this.
“why don’t you come in my room char, it’s kinda chilly out hm?” you bit back a smile.
“uh, okay.” he crawled through your window, you closed it behind him. charlie examined every inch of your room, obviously he had seen it many times but never up close. charlie took in every detail of your room. he surveyed photos of you and your friends you had hung on your wall, little trinkets you kept, the products on your dresser.
you laid back down on your bed, propping yourself up on your elbows. you motioned for charlie to sit at the end of your bed, he obeyed.
“charlie?” you called, disturbing his train of thought.
“yeah.” he replied almost immediately.
“were you touching yourself while watching me?” you were driving him insane, but he deserved it.
“mhm.” he nodded, unable to meet your eyes. he felt so bad, so guilty, so pathetic.
“okay, well since you interrupted me, why don’t you watch me and try not to.”
“i dunno if i can.” he looked down at the his boner, poking through his sweatpants.
“kinda owe it to me char. i mean, i did just catch you stalking me, the least you can do is do what i say. plus i wanna hear you beg to touch yourself.”
“fuck.” he groaned. you giggled at him before pulling your tank top off, making sure charlie’s eyes were on you. the sight of your boobs right in front of him only made him harder, he wanted to touch them or suck on them, anything would be enough.
“bet you wanna feel my tits so bad huh? i mean you’ve been watching me change, jerking yourself off while looking at them. this isn’t the first time you’ve been outside my window.” you taunted. “gonna have to earn it.”
“how-how do i earn it?” he wasn’t even concerned with how you knew that he had been watching you for a while, just desperate to feel you.
“already told you char, watch me touch myself without touching yourself.” you pulled down your shorts to reveal the lacy thong you wore. charlie couldn’t help but notice the huge wet spot on your underwear.
‘you did like this.’ charlie thought to himself. he stared at you as you rubbed your clit over your soaked thong, teasing yourself with one hand, playing with your tits with the other.
“you’re so… wet.” charlie said in a breathy voice.
“mhmm was thinking about you char.” you told him. his eyes went wide,
“r-really? you were?” he smiled at you. charlie sounded so pathetic, you loved it.
“mhmm.” you nodded, slowly removing your thong. the sight of your body entirely exposed forced charlie to whimper.
“i-i think about you, like that, a lot.” he was struggling so hard not to touch himself, it almost hurt. at this point, your cunt was throbbing, desperate for stimulation.
“i know you have.” you replied before rubbing your clit in circular motions, humming in pleasure.
“can i um, can i touch you instead…like finger you? i won’t touch you anywhere else if i’m not allowed to yet.” charlie couldn’t bare just watching you. if he couldn’t touch himself, he wanted to touch you. “please?”
“not yet, be patient.” you spread your legs further apart, pumping two fingers from your free hand into your entrance slowly. “feels so fucking good, don’t touch yourself yet charlie.” you groaned.
“t’so hard not to.” he whined, putting his hands behind his back to retrain himself.
“i know, you’re so needy char. fuck!” you panted. both of your hands sped up, making your moans louder. you were squirming so much. charlie watched you closely, taking in every one of your sounds, movements, and expressions. he whispered compliments as you brought yourself closer to your climax.
after you came, you sat yourself back up on your elbows to see that charlie’s pants were wet. “did you cum in your pants? that needy huh, can’t even wait ten minutes?”
“i know, m’sorry.” charlie said shyly, he looked away
“i didn’t even touch you…you didn’t even touch yourself and you came, holy shit… you don’t get to touch my tits yet, couldn’t even hold off.” you let out a short scoff which was followed by silence. charlie was so embarrassed, not daring to look you in the eyes. he wished he could’ve just disappeared at that moment. “lay beside me char, i wanna see your cock charlie.” you purred. charlie followed your order, moving from the edge of your bed, next to you. “now show me, take off your shirt too.”
charlie nodded before swiftly removing his shirt. he then pulled down his sweat pants, exposing his cum filled boxers. finally, he took off his boxers to reveal his dick. he looked over at you, your eyes remained on his body.
“so perfect char, bet it’s really sensitive right now though hm?” you asked. charlie’s cheeks turned red at your compliment.
“thank you and yeah m’sensitive.” charlie responded.
you shifted your body so you were on your side, facing charlie. you tucked his hair behind his ear, bringing your mouth to charlie’s it you whispered, “i wanna make you cum again”.
charlie’s breath hitched, he couldn’t believe you were finally going to touch him. after countless nights of imagining that his hand was your warm, tight pussy wrapped around him or your soft hand pumping his cock, he was finally getting to feel you. “please make me cum again, please.” he begged.
“so needy.” you giggled, crawling downward until your lips met charlie’s sensitive tip. you placed short, gentle kisses on it, holding his shaft in your hand.
“oh my god, fuck.” he huffed, his breath heavy.
“i haven’t even started yet.” you nagged, taking your soft lips off his tip. while still giggling, you began slowly moving your hand up and down his shaft.
“mmm thank you.” a stupid smirk was plastered on his face as he watched you speed up your movements. after a few minutes, his chest began to rise and fall rapidly as his mouth hung open, high pitched and draw out whimpers leaving his lips. you felt his dick twitch in your hand before he came for the second time.
you took a second to think of a real punishment for him. as the idea crossed your mind, you immediately wrapped your mouth around his soft cock, feeling it grow in your mouth.
“wah- what are you doing? i, fuck, i can’t go again.” he babbled. you rolled your eyes in annoyance, taking your mouth off his dick.
“too bad isn’t it, didn’t i tell you that you owe me? charlie, you’ve been watching me, stalking me for weeks now. can’t you just do what i say?” your tone was weirdly calm.
“okay…m’sorry” he answered. you placed your mouth back on his now, painfully hard cock, hollowing your cheeks. “ahhh! it’s too much.” he moaned. unable to stay till, charlie began squirm and bucking his hips into your mouth.
“ohmygoddd please i’m sorry, fuck aughhh! i’m sorry for stalking you, it’s too much please!” his words were slurred, charlie didn’t even know what he was pleading for. tears began streaming down his face from overstimulation. you bobbed your head up and down on his cock at an increasingly fast pace, the room filled with charlie’s loud sobs and whimpers. you then felt that same twitch as before and as you suspected, shortly after, charlie’s warm cum filled your mouth, you swallowed every drop.
you returned back to where you laid before, watching tears flood from his blue eyes. “you look so pretty when you cry charlie”.
he turned towards you. “thank you.” he sniffed as you wiped his tears from his cheek. holding charlie’s jaw in your hand, you traced his cheek with your thumb. “you’re always pretty.” he spoke. the two of your faces were so close together, charlie brought his lips to yours, you kissed back passionately, feeling charlie grin against your lips. one of his hands found its way too the bare skin right under your boob. “can i um- can i?” he questioned after pulling away from your lips.
“go ahead.” you responded before attaching your lips to his once again. charlie cupped your tit in his hand, squeezing and kneading it.
“so fucking perfect.” he groaned before shortly pecking your lips.
“charlie.” you said, staring at him.
“mhm?” he mumbled, looking away from your tits and up at you.
“next time you’re outside my window, you can just come in.” you purred. your words forced charlie to whimper. he could do this again? touch you? maybe even be inside you? god he felt lucky.
“actually?” he looked at you with that pathetic smile.
“yeah, maybe you’ll get to touch more than just my tits next time.” you smirked at him, kissing him once more before he cleaned himself up, climbing back out of your window.
the next night, you heard tree taps at your window. knowing it was charlie, you opened the window to let him in. almost immediately, you began undressing each other between staggered sloppy kisses. the night ended in him sobbing after you rode him, making him cum five times, which left his cock red. he knew he deserved it.
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foresdxw · 2 years
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enhypen; how they’re protective over you
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ot7 x reader | fluff/comfort | how they’re protective over you | tw: implied past sexual harassment, some violence
heeseung;
heeseung is always incredibly aware of your sensitivity and emotional state
so his protectiveness mostly comes in the form of protecting your happiness and joy
if he knows that somebody who’s judgmental of you or gives you anxiety is around, he’ll immediately try to distract you
he’ll make you face him; he’ll put a finger under your chin and make a silly face or crack a stupid joke, and you’ll be so entertained (or confused) by his antics that you won’t even notice the girl who hates you just walked in the room
“what are you doing? there’s people…” you breathed as heeseung held your chin, his face far too close to yours considering the fact that you were sitting with him on the set of a photo shoot where several other people were working
in reality, as soon as heeseung noticed the makeup artist who insulted you to your face, he instantly remembered how she made you cry last week and couldn’t stand the idea of having to see you hurt again
he focused all his anger towards her into love and care for you, which definitely pissed her off; not that either of you noticed anymore.
he focused all his anger towards her into love and care for you, which definitely pissed her off; not that either of you noticed anymore.
“how do you know i’m not a robot too?” you asked.
“hmmm…” heeseung pulled your face even closer to his so that your foreheads were touching.
“heeseung!” you giggled quietly, as if you were reprimanding him for the PDA that made you shy, but the hand you brought up to his neck said otherwise.
the makeup artist who insulted you had left the area by then, hating to see you look so happy and in love, and the director of the photo shoot had just called heeseung over.
“you’re too pretty to be a robot.” he declared, as if that made absolute sense, kissing your cheek before getting up to get back to the photoshoot, “coming!” leaving you blushing in your seat.
sometimes, if he can, he’ll try resolving conflicts so that you don’t have to.
even though he knows you’re better at arguing than him or more persuasive than him.
if he knows the friend who’s not agreeing with you, he’ll offer to talk to them so you don’t have to.
even if you say no he’s probably going to act so different around that friend or vaguely mention that you were trying to do the right thing to where they would know he’s on your side anyway, always.
jay;
if you asked jay if he was protective over you, he would probably say something like, “yeah, sure.”
but if you asked anyone else who knew him, it would be an ABSOLUTELY!!!
it’s second nature to jay to physically protect you.
whether that be through standing on the outside of the sidewalk so you’re not too close to the street;
or literally feeding you food from his chopsticks when he feels like you didn’t eat enough;
it’s so natural for him to be close to you and nurture you that he doesn’t even realize what he’s doing when he gets up just to move his chair at the restaurant next to yours.
“yah! she’s not gonna run away from you!” sunghoon teases him from across the table.
you laugh and jay’s just like ? “why would she run away from me?”
“you didn’t need to move your chair so much closer to hers.” sunoo laughs too.
jay just shrugs, “she was too far. right babe?” he turns to look at you, placing his hand on your thigh under the table and caressing it, like he always does.
you smile and resist the urge to kiss him. “right, baby.”
despite the fact that he should be grateful you didn’t kiss jay on the spot, sunoo cringes at how adorable and smiley you two are, right in front of his salad. “eww…”
jake;
jake is such a loyal guardian puppy boy that he’s always being protective over you in the way he hovers.
because creeps don’t even want to think about approaching you when jake is always touching or holding you somehow, hanging onto every word you say and laughing a little too hard at your half-assed jokes.
but if you’re feeling upset or sick, and jake can’t necessarily be bright and giggly, you’ll notice the intensity of his love for you and the protectiveness that follows.
even though he knows and loves the fact that you can take care of yourself, you won’t be lifting a finger as long as he can help it.
usually you’d go visit him at the dorm late at night when he’s finally free from his schedule, waiting on the couch with whoever else was there until he appeared
but if you had just been released from surgery, jake expected you to be knocked out at home and was planning on going to visit you instead.
“ahhh!!” jake practically screamed when he saw you chilling on the couch with jungwon, as if there weren’t a 8% chance you wouldn’t have survived the surgery (you tried to tell him it was a tiny number, but that didn’t stop him from freaking out). “what are you doing here?!”
“nice to see you too,” you laughed.
“oh my-“ jake rushed over and grabbed your face, kissing your forehead quickly, “god, baby, you should be lying down.” he kept kissing all over your face, overwhelmed with how incredibly relieved and concerned he felt at the same time.
“i feel fine!” you laughed, long and slow, and jake noticed something was off. “i’m still under some anesthesia sooo…” you tried to reassure him, but it only sent him into overdrive.
in no time, jake carried you off the couch, kicked his roommate out, lay you down on his bed, fed you dinner you both didn’t even realize he was capable of making, and gave you a massage until you fell asleep.
he continued squeezing and kissing your shoulders even after you were asleep, glasses on and phone in hand as he googled the best way to take care of someone who had just gone through your surgery.
because if you weren’t going to be gentle with yourself, at least he was going to be.
and god help anyone who tried to enter the room or be louder than a single decibel…
sunghoon;
sunghoon is a free-spirited person, a free-spirited friend, and a free-spirited lover. he has always been independent and loved your independence as well
which is why it was shocking to see the way a switch flipped in him whenever he sensed you were uncomfortable, or in danger
“what is it?” sunghoon asked worriedly, as he saw you frown over your phone for what felt like the 100th time that day
“it’s just… you remember what I told you about that guy from class?”
“is he bothering you?” the stern tone he asked this with alone made you feel protected
he rubbed your back soothingly as he took your phone from your hand, scrolling through hundreds of creepy messages from the classmate who had been harassing you
when his caller id appeared, sunghoon didn’t even think twice before answering, “hello.”
“did you change your voice?” the boy stupidly asked. “i know this is your number. you can’t hide.”
hearing that pissed sunghoon off so much. he couldn’t stand knowing that someone was stalking you to where you felt fear, and like you couldn’t escape them.
sunghoon would do anything to make sure you always felt safe, which was part of why he immediately got up and stepped outside to finish the phone call, not wanting you to hear the aggression in his tone.
you would never find out what sunghoon had said to him. he didn’t want you to know— that’s just how he rolled. all you knew was that whatever he had said was so powerful that you never saw the boy ever again. anywhere. he had even dropped out of school.
“please tell me if anyone ever causes you trouble, okay?” sunghoon made you promise.
jungwon;
jungwon is someone who greatly appreciates things like manners and propriety, which is why it was almost amusing to witness him throw all respect for someone out the window the moment they hurt you.
“you’re not sitting there.” jungwon said to the man who had taken a seat on the opposite side of you in the waiting room of a music show. jungwon knew he was pushing it by saying that to someone older than him, who he worked with, but he didn’t really give a shit if he knew they were scaring you.
“excuse me?” the man asked. “who are you to tell me where to sit?”
jungwon was incredibly rarely the type to do any form of PDA, but he instinctually wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his chest.
“who are you to be a creep towards every girl you work with?” he retorted without hesitation.
the man had no choice but to grumble and leave, knowing it wasn’t a good idea to piss off the leader of the group he was working with, but little did he know it was wayyy too late. jungwon decided right then and there that the man was done.
you were so afraid of the man that you were still shaking after he got up and left, and jungwon was surprised by the intensity of your reaction. it broke his heart and made him tear up a little as he held you. he had a feeling you didn’t feel comfortable telling him the full reason why the man scared you, but he never pushed you to tell him.
jungwon rubbed his hand up and down your arm, pressing a long kiss to your hair and whispering, “you’re okay, i’m here,” until you stopped shaking.
he did not hesitate to get that man fired with his leader card the second he had the chance to speak to the managers, to say the least.
sunoo;
sunoo can and will end a motherfucker for you.
he’s not afraid to speak his mind, but especially when it comes to you.
however, his first priority is to validate you and wipe that frown off your face.
you sat across him at a cafe explaining what your so-called friend had said about you with tears streaming down your face, and sunoo was nothing but gentle as he squeezed both your hands in his, thoroughly listening to every word you said
“i’m so sorry he said that to you. you’re amazing and he’s stupid.” sunoo’s praise of you and insults of your ex-friend made you laugh. “he wouldn’t know how to do your job even if he had five years of experience. he’s an idiot. and he looks like squidward.”
you giggled. “he does kind of look like squidward…”
sunoo reached up to wipe your tears away with his thumb, pausing a bit to stare at you. “ugh. he wishes he had even 2% of your beauty.” he was being sassy, but he meant it.
you laughed again, forgetting all about your ex-friend the more you hung out with sunoo
and if you let him, sunoo would lovee to say all those things to that guy’s face. but only if you let him. (please let him.)
niki;
niki can be compulsive when it comes to you
as opposed to sunoo, who wouldn’t say anything unless you let him, niki will be throwing hands as soon as he finds out something happened to you.
okay, maybe he won’t always literally fight someone, but he will not think twice about confronting your manager himself if he notices you’re being overworked, or telling your friends their offensive jokes aren’t fucking funny.
he’ll even tell his own friends that, and he won’t care if they’re older than him if they’re talking shit about you.
“hey, stop talking about her like that.” niki said, the second he heard some trainee friends having the audacity to objectify and complain about you in the same sentence. “that’s my girlfriend.”
“and? your girlfriend’s hot, but she’s a fucking bitch sometimes.”
they should NOT have said that.
if jay hadn’t entered the room moments later, it would have been a lot more difficult for him to lie to you about his knuckles being red from exercising with a punching bag.
you didn’t even know niki wasn’t friends with those guys anymore until you saw them on the street a couple months later.
you pointed at them openly, “hey, isn’t that—“
niki grabbed the hand you were pointing with. “don’t point at people, it’s rude.”
“but aren’t those your friends?”
“no.” as they got closer, niki glared at them and subconsciously squeezed your hand tighter.
for a moment, his jaw had set, he started seeing red again as he remembered what they said about you, and he genuinely thought about hurting them again until—
“ow, hey, you’re gonna crush my fingers!”
niki was so angry that he didn’t realize how hard he was squeezing your hand. he immediately turned to you and brought your hand up to his lips. “i’m sorry.”
you paused a bit, stunned by how unlike himself he was being “it’s… okay…”
niki pat your head, deciding then and there that he not only had to protect you from other people, but from himself, as well
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luvring · 8 months
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3:08 PM
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gojo x gn!reader | he’s NOT on the battlefield he is somewhere being whiny and dramatic RIGHT NOW. no one can tell me otherwise.
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gojo stares at you from his spot on the couch, a pout etched on his face as you continue to type away at an assignment due in more than a week. something due 10 whole days away has taken priority over him—he pouts even harder at the thought.
“i can feel you staring at me, satoru.”
“i don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“mhm.”
there’s only a few minutes of silence when your phone suddenly vibrates. without sparing it a glance, you switch between tabs, trying to find a specific quote for your answer. satoru huffs from behind you, and another notification comes in.
“y’gonna check that?”
“check what?”
your phone vibrates again.
“that.”
and you’re not dumb. you have a feeling your boyfriend is very aware, probably even more aware than you about what that notification could be.
“no?”
it vibrates again.
“are you sure?”
another.
“pretty sure.”
and after a couple of seconds, another.
“…actually, you know what, ‘toru,”—you pick up your phone, and satoru sits up ever so slightly, before you swipe down the bar to turn on do not disturb—“you’re right.”
“babe,” he drags out the pet name, “what if it was important?”
“and what if it was my classmates being idiots in the group chat again?”
“it’s not!”
at his denial, you spin your chair around, an accusatory—yet amused—expression on your face. “and how would you know?”
“because no one else is working on an assignment due in more than a week on a saturday afternoon except you, because apparently i’m dating the biggest nerd ever,” satoru complains, letting himself slide half off the couch, leg thrown over the top.
putting your hand over your chest, you gasp. “the biggest nerd ever? you wound me.”
“you wounded me first when you downloaded that assignment pdf instead of checking my texts!”
“well now i’m never opening that text from you.”
“why no—” he stops, and you stare, and he squints and quietly replies, “…i hate you.”
a lie through and through that finally gets you to laugh, just a little, before picking up your phone, where a photo of the both of you greets you as your lockscreen. “i’m kidding, ‘toru. but seriously if it’s something stupid i’m going to the library.”
“nothing i send you is ever stupid.”
you shake your head and go to open your messages. “i’m not even going to try to argue with you on that.”
GOJO sent you a post
babe
ME!
Notification noise
buzz buzz buzz buzzzzzzzzzz
EMERGENCY!!! HELLO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
your lip twitches when you read “notification noise” but you hide it with the back of your hand, instead clicking the video he sent.
you think maybe it won’t be that bad—the thumbnail a photo of a white cat—and satoru watches you intently when he hears the audio start to play. ”top ten things you should pay more attention to. starting with number one—me.”
you blink.
the video loops.
“top ten things you should…”
“seriously, toru?”
“c’s get degrees. satorus need constant attention or they’ll die.”
you snort—maybe you’d take him more seriously if he wasn’t practically upside down.
“they’ll die! i’ll die! do you want me to die?”
“not on my couch, no.” you respond, standing up.
“oh, alright, apologies, my heart, for not taking your feelings into consideration. i’ll die on your laptop so you’re forced to face the consequences of your actions more directly then,” he says, sarcasm rolling off of him in waves, even as you make your way toward him.
“oh, thank you so much, my love, i’d greatly appreciate it.” you huff as you do your best to pull him back up to lie on the couch.
satoru lies on his back, arms crossed over chest, strands of hair messy across his forehead.
he says nothing as you stand above him.
yet despite his attitude, he lets you run your fingers through his hair to fix it, leaning in ever so slightly into the warmth of your palm. you pout at him endearingly. “okay, you’re right, i can work on the assignment later. i’m sorry for not giving you attention and ignoring your texts.”
“and?”
you quirk an eyebrow, trying to rack your brain for what else you could have done. “and…implying you could ever send me something stupid?”
“…apology accepted.”
“can i lie down with you now?”
satoru shifts as far as he can. “as long as my back is to the couch so you can’t push me off.”
“woah, woah, woah, okay, that was an actual accident, and you already accepted my apology for that! i even ordered food,” you remind him, maneuvering beside him so you can fit and wrap your arms around his torso.
he pulls your head to rest on his chest. “doesn’t mean i can’t stay on guard from now on.”
“oh, whatever,” you mumble, breathing in and noting the scent of his new cologne that he got a few days ago—the one he got because you said you liked it.
a hand comes up to rub the nape of your neck, and you melt further into him. satoru mutters, ”you’re not leaving until dinner now as compensation.”
“what if i have to pee?”
“i’ll follow you to the washroom.”
“inside?”
“you wanna hold hands at the doorway?”
“not particularly, no, actually.”
“maybe romance really is dead.”
you laugh into the fabric of shirt where you can feel his chest rumble with his own laughter, and your heart flutters as you feel satoru smile against you. he's warm, and his lips soft as they kiss your forehead, when you think maybe your work can wait a few days to really start.
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hai. sometimes a girl has to write a bunch of domestic fluffy banter. who gets me. video cat is gojo catoru in another life btw... Trust. also im pretty sure this is the first time i get to use my jjk taglist. LMFAO
🏷 | @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @tooruchiiscribs @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist @libbyistired @milkbreadforlife
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sodamnradd · 11 months
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Hogwarts had fucking outed them.
Of all the people to stash in the bottom of the lake for Draco to rescue, they had chosen her.
She was wet and shivering, pale as a sheet, balled up in his arms.
Lucius was somewhere in the audience. Reporters snapped photos rapturously. Draco could feel Pansy’s eyes burning holes into his back from somewhere in the stands. It was too late to feign indifference. To pretend it had all been a fluke, that Draco had merely rescued the first person he could get his hands on in the Merfolk Colony.
Hermione’s icy fingers dug into his sides.
“You’re safe,” he murmured against her damp forehead. “I’ll never let anything happen to you.”
Pomfrey bustled over. Blankets stacked in her arms. Draco wrapped one around Hermione’s shoulders as Pomfrey cast a Warming Spell. He rubbed Hermione’s arms over the blanket.
They’d left her down there for hours.
Fuck this tournament.
“I’m quitting.”
Hermione’s eyes darted up. “You can’t.”
“How did they even know…” He stopped short, aware they were in public.
Hermione merely answered: “The Room of Requirement.”
After receiving an earful from his father, his ex, and a Howler from Narcissa, Draco slipped through the stone archway into their little sanctuary.
She was already there, bathed in firelight, cheeks flushed with colour again. She wore a thick knit jumper two sizes too big, his Slytherin one, and knee-socks. A textbook lay open in front of her.
“Rough day?” she teased, but he noted the tightness in her eyes. Hermione wore her heart on her sleeve and Draco knew every heartbeat.
“How are you?”
Before she could reply, he cupped her chin and kissed her hard on the mouth. She slipped into his lap, and he held her tightly, like they might steal her away again.
His stomach lurched, remembering.
“Better now.” She kissed the hollow beneath his jaw. “The Gillyweed worked.”
He didn’t want to talk about the second task. “I don’t need the accolade or the Galleons.”
“We’re so close to winning. You can’t give up now.”
“They hurt you.”
“I’m fine.”
“Stop.” He envisioned her ghostly figure, curls plastered to trembling arms, the knobs of her spine like pale marbles in the low-back swimsuit.
She nudged his cheek, meeting his gaze. “If you forfeit, I lose too.”
She was right, of course. Draco’s name had been drawn from the goblet, but Hermione had been with him every step of the way. Her cleverness had not only kept Draco alive, but also at the forefront of the competition.
When he didn’t respond, she added, “I’ll help Viktor win if you back out.”
“Granger,” he growled. She knew how Draco felt about Viktor and his stupid moony eyes that did nothing but track Hermione all day long. Low blow.
“The tournament is ours.” She clasped his hand. “It’s just as much my victory as it is yours.”
What could he say to that?
He’d never expected Granger to lead him to the dragons the night before the first task. Weasley had told her. And she’d told him. He didn’t know why she did it, but it shifted something between them. A tension that sparked last year and imploded into this unfathomable, precious partnership.
He was pretty sure he loved her.
And Malfoy men never said no to the women they loved.
“I’m assuming that’s research for the next task?” He motioned towards her textbook.
“Duelling spells. I’ll practice with you.”
He brushed his knuckles against her cheek and lowered his gaze, resigned. “Whatever you want, Granger.”
(593 words, photo prompt from twitter)
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alltheirdamn · 28 days
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Couch Chronicles | One Shot
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Frankie Morales x f!reader x Benny Miller
Summary: When you accidentally tell your boyfriend, Frankie, that you think his best friend is cute... he makes a plan. Rating: 18+ Explicit Word Count: 4.2k Warnings: strictly smut, established relationship, threesome, mmf dynamic, heavy kissing, a stupid amount of neck kissing, nipple play, oral (f! and m! receiving), fingering, choking, rough sex, cum eating, deepthroat, unprotected piv sex, multiple creampies, degrading kink (very mild), praise kink, pet names (pretty girl, baby, babygirl), language, men whimpering (i know) A/N: I want two boyfriends, and I want the boyfriends to be boyfriends... yeah, you guys know how it goes. idk I had an idea, tossed some words together, and here we are. not my finest work and probably a lil shitty in terms of technicality, but I was craving a good trip to Paris.
Masterlist | Ko-fi
You were lying in bed with Frankie one night, scrolling through social media, when you came across a new post from Benny. It was from a recent fishing trip down to the lake, and he was shirtless, holding a large trout in his hand. You tapped on the screen twice, liking the photo and spending an extra few seconds staring at his tall frame and shaggy blonde hair doused in sunlight. 
“You know he is pretty cute,” you said aloud, showing Frankie the photo.
Frankie and Benny were close, best friends even. You had spent time with him here and there over the years at barbecues and small group settings. He was always friendly and welcomed you into the group with open arms. You and Frankie had been dating for a while now, and you were well aware of his past with the group of men and the missions they had gone on. But now he was home for good, making a living for himself and staying clean. 
“Do you ever think about fucking him?” Frankie asked casually, glancing from the screen to your face.
“Frankie, oh my God!” You gasped. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
You gaped at him, shutting off your phone and placing it on the nightstand.
“Hey, I wasn’t asking to start an argument,” he said coolly. “It was a genuine question.”
You shrunk into the pillows, turning to face him. He nestled against his own pillow, holding your gaze and giving you a small grin. His hair had grown shaggy at the ends, sticking up behind his ears and curling at the base of his neck. You lifted a hand to scratch at the patchy beard covering his jaw, biting your lip as you navigated a response in your head.
“No, I haven’t thought about it,” you exhaled. “Okay, maybe I have once or twice. Fuck—I don’t know. Not in a fuck him and leave you type of way.”
“You know I wouldn’t be mad if you did,” Frankie replied. “Fuck him, I mean.”
“What?” You balked, eyes growing wide.
He only shrugged his shoulders, shifting close to you in the bed.
“He’s my best friend. I’d trust him with you.”
“You’re not seriously telling me right now you want me to sleep with Benny.”
“I’m not telling you to do it,” Frankie argued. “Just saying, if you ever want to explore it, tell me. I’m sure he’s thought about it, too.”
Your face burned bright red at the thought of Benny fantasizing about you. There was no way. Frankie was messing with you.
“None of this bothers you?” You questioned.
Frankie laughed softly, hooking an arm around your leg and guiding it over his hip. You shuffled your body closer until you were both a breath apart. 
“Fuck no, baby,” he smirked, his pupils growing bigger. “Getting to see one of best friends fuck you would probably only turn me on more.”
You felt him growing harder against you, and you reached a hand down to palm his cock through his pajama bottoms. Frankie let out a soft whine, bucking his hips into your hand.
“Would you just sit back and watch?” You quirked an eyebrow. 
“I’d do whatever you want.”
Your fingers danced up his pants, teasing his waistband. You gave him a mischievous grin as you trailed lower until your hand wrapped around his cock. He groaned at your touch, his eyes rolling back.
“What if I want both of you?” You asked, pumping him slowly. “At the same time?”
Something carnal flashed across his features, and he crawled on top of you, running his mouth up your neck. You arched into him, using both hands to pull down his pants. Frankie did the same to you, tugging your sleep shorts down your legs and exploring the wetness collecting between your inner thighs.
“Pretty girl wants to get tag-teamed?” He teased. “Yeah, I can make that happen.”
You gasped at his words and let him fuck you mercilessly the rest of the night. 
You had zero clue what Frankie had told Benny, but later that week, you were situated on the couch between their warm bodies, watching some action movie. Benny kept a respectable distance while Frankie’s hand remained on your thigh, drawing slow circles over your bare skin. You were wearing one of his T-shirts and a pair of soft sleep shorts, your nerves buzzing through your body. 
You barely had the capacity to pay attention to the movie, your eyes shifting between both of the men sitting on either side of you. Frankie leaned over after a while, his breath hot against your neck.
“You call the shots, pretty girl. Whatever you wanna do, it’s your choice,” he muttered into your ear.
You let out a small gasp, glancing over at Benny. He was sitting relaxed against the couch; his legs spread open and muscular arms crossed over his chest. Your eyes trailed up his thick neck, studying his tensed jaw covered in days-old stubble and blue eyes that remained focused on the screen. You weren’t the shy type, but initiating this type of situation was way out of your comfort zone.
“Benny?” You whispered.
His gaze slid to you, his pupils already dilated.
“Yeah?” He asked, his voice deep as he said your name.
You sucked in a breath, mustering the courage to take it to the next step. 
“Kiss me,” you demanded, though it sounded a bit sheepish.
He flicked his gaze to Frankie, then back to you. Reaching a hand up to tangle in your hair, he reeled you in for a hungry kiss. You whimpered at the feel of his mouth against yours, his approach far rougher than what you were used to with Frankie. His tongue intertwined with yours as he coaxed your mouth open wider, his other hand sliding up your thigh. 
Frankie’s mouth connected with the other side of your neck, sucking marks into your flushed skin as you let out another helpless whine.
“Fuck,” Benny panted, guiding your head toward Frankie.
Frankie was quick to capture your mouth, his tongue tracing the saliva still lingering on your lips. You gasped as Benny’s mouth trailed up your neck, drawing his tongue over the erratic pulse under your jaw. 
“This what you want, baby?” Frankie asked before sinking his teeth into the plush skin of your bottom lip.
You gave him an eager nod of your head, and he brought his hand up to tilt your head, both of their mouths now hot and wet against either side of your throat. The throbbing between your thighs grew painful, and you squirmed against their roaming hands; Benny’s hand crawled up to cup your breast, Frankie’s hand teasing your aching clit over your shorts.
“Jesus Christ,” you moaned, letting your head fall back against the couch. 
“Call the shots, pretty girl,” Frankie ordered. 
You bucked your hips against his hand, searching for any form of friction to alleviate the pressure building inside your core. Benny tugged at the t-shirt covering your torso, his breath going ragged as he discovered you bare beneath the soft cotton.
His head dipped down to capture your pebbled nipple between his teeth, grinding them against your skin until you cried out from the pleasure mixing with pain. Oh, Benny was rough, and it only made you ache for more of his touch.
You glanced down at the same time his gaze lifted to yours, a grin tugging at his lips as he realized how much you liked it. Frankie, meanwhile, was working at sipping his fingers between your wet folds, sinking two fingers knuckle deep. 
“Shit,” you hissed through clenched teeth. Frankie’s fingers worked fast inside you; he knew what to do to make you completely fall apart.
But now you had another man working at you in tandem, Benny’s mouth still ravaging your breast. Your fingers tangled into his hair, your nails raking over his scalp. He let out a groan of approval, rewarding you with another bite of his teeth around your nipple.
“Feels…so fucking good…” You whispered to both men.
Frankie angled his hand so that he could push his fingers deeper, curling them against the spongy spot inside you. Searing heat coursed through your veins with each movement of his fingers, your breath coming out short and pained.
A dangerous idea floated through the fog inside your brain, and you wondered how far you could push it at the expense of your wanton needs. Tugging Benny’s hair, he released your nipple with a gentle pop and moved his lips back to yours. You sucked his bottom lip in between your teeth before diving your tongue into his mouth. Benny let out a shallow exhale, letting you steer the kiss in whatever direction you wanted. 
“Benny,” you whined. “I want your tongue inside me.”
He cursed under his breath and looked over at Frankie, who was still working you closer to the edge. Frankie’s eyes lifted to meet yours, a devilish smirk playing on his lips. He pulled his fingers from you, lifting them to your mouth.
“Clean them, pretty girl,” he ordered. 
You wrapped your mouth around his thick fingers, the salty, sweet taste of your arousal coating your tongue. You pulled your head back and looked at Benny with a lifted brow.
“Wanna taste?” You asked with a coy smile.
You expected him to pull you in for a kiss, to taste it from your mouth, but your breath stalled as you watched him grip Frankie’s wrist and guide his fingers into his mouth. Your jaw dropped open as Benny sucked on Frankie’s fingers with fervency, his eyes locked on your boyfriend. This was new. Frankie grunted as Benny dragged his tongue over the pads of his fingers, finally releasing them and settling back into the couch.
“Come here, baby,” Frankie said, shuffling his body back against one side of the couch.
He maneuvered you into his lap, your back pressed against his chest. Through heavy lids, you watched Benny tear away his shirt and put his defined abs on display. You and Frankie had been to a few of his boxing matches, and you were more than familiar with the toned figure he hid under his basic t-shirts. Your eyes roamed down his torso, studying the way his chest hair flourished between his sternum and trailed down his abdomen. You involuntarily wet your lips at the sight, wanting to take your tongue and trace every flexed muscle on his body.
“Spread your legs for me, babygirl,” Benny instructed. Hearing him call you babygirl had your mind reeling. 
You let your legs fall open and watched as Benny shuffled back to situate himself between your thighs. Frankie’s hands groped and squeezed your breasts, his fingers pinching your nipples until you gasped at the stinging pain. You tilted your head back, arching upward to meet his lips. Frankie responded with a sloppy kiss, his nose brushing over yours at the same time Benny’s tongue flicked over your aching clit.
“Fuck!” You cried, the word muffled in Frankie’s mouth.
Frankie let out a low chuckle and intertwined his fingers through the tendrils of your hair, forcing you to look down at Benny.
“Watch him while he tongue fucks you, baby,” Frankie commanded. 
Your breath hitched, and Benny took that as his opportunity to dive his tongue deep inside you. Sparks of pleasure erupted behind your eyes, and it took all your strength to keep your focus on him as he worked his tongue deeper. His eyes shot up to yours, the pale blue of his irises swallowed by his pupils. 
“Do you like that pretty girl?” Frankie crooned in your ear. “You enjoy having us both giving you all this attention?”
“Yes,” you panted, your chest rising and falling steadily as warmth spread through your stomach.
“Tell Benny how much you like it.”
Your eyes rolled back as Benny traced over your wet folds with his tongue, the heat of his mouth against your cunt sending you into a spiral. 
“I—.” You choked on your words as Benny’s lips suctioned around your clit, his tongue sending sharp rhythmic flicks across the aching bundle of nerves.
“Tell him,” Frankie growled, his hand wrapping around your throat.
“Your mouth feels so fucking good, Benny,” you gasped. “Please don’t stop… Please. Keep doing that, I’m so fucking close.”
Your words were melding together, a jumble of incoherent mumbling and humiliating whimpers. Frankie’s hand squeezed your throat tighter, restricting your breathing as Benny coaxed your orgasm closer to the surface. With Frankie’s hand around your neck and Benny’s tongue assailing your cunt, the overstimulation began to spread through your veins. 
“I know you’re close, pretty girl,” Frankie whispered in your ear. “I can feel how tense you are. Let it go, baby. Cum for us.”
His words sent the heavens crashing down around you, and your body seized upwards as your orgasm ignited a fire that raged under your skin. Benny lapped at the arousal pooling out of you, humming in satisfaction as a strangled cry left your lips. 
“Doesn’t my girl taste good, Benny?” Frankie murmured, releasing his grip on your throat.
“Fucking perfect,” Benny grinned.
You leaned your head back against Frankie’s chest, seeing his big brown eyes sparkle with lust. 
“Frankie, baby,” you whispered. “Why don’t you have a taste, too?”
Frankie started to shift you off his lap, but you pressed yourself further into his chest, leaving him looking at you confused. You glanced down at Benny and gave a subtle lift of your chin as if to silently coax him from between your thighs. He followed your lead, crawling up your body until he hovered over you and leaned in close. He braced himself against the couch with one arm while snaking the other around Frankie’s neck. You careened your neck to watch as their mouth collided, Frankie’s aquiline nose smashing against Benny’s cheek for a frenzied kiss. Frankie submitted to Benny’s control, whimpering as their tongues danced together. Your jaw went slack as you watched your boyfriend passionately kiss his best friend; oh, you fucking loved this.
Benny tore away from Frankie’s lips, bending down to trail his lips over your jaw and neck. 
“I think your man wants some attention, babygirl,” he muttered against your warm skin.
“I think so, too,” you agreed, breathless.
Both men maneuvered off the couch, taking their time to undress, while you sat back and admired both of their naked bodies. Frankie was soft in all the right areas, his dark chest hair spread across his broad torso and trailing down over the soft pudge of his stomach. His cock hung heavy between his thighs, already glistening with precum as it leaked from the tip. Your eyes shifted over to Benny, your eyes growing wide at the length of his hardened cock. While Frankie’s cock was sizable in girth, Benny made up for it with length, and the thought of his cock deep inside you only spurred you closer to another orgasm. You needed one of them to fuck you, or else you’d go crazy.
“Baby,” you whined, shuffling your body up on the couch.
Frankie gave you a smirk, the creases in the corner of his eyes appearing as he looked down on you. You snaked a hand down your navel, your fingers slipping between the wet folds as you sought out some sort of relief from the throbbing need inside you. 
Benny moved around the side of the couch, his strong hands hooking under your shoulders and dragging you back until your head hung over the arm of the couch. Upside down, you stared up at his cock as it hovered over your face. You wet your lips at the sight of it, waiting for him to inch closer. Gliding a hand over your strained neck, his fingers squeezed the right above the base of it.
“I wanna feel my cock right here, babygirl,” Benny said. “You gonna show me you can take it?”
“Yes,” you breathed.
You dropped your jaw open, your tongue darting out as you waited for him to step forward. Frankie’s body weight dropped on the couch above you, his hands lifting your legs onto his shoulder. As your calves settled onto his broad shoulders, Frankie lined himself up with your entrance. In one quick thrust, Frankie bottomed out, and you let out a raspy moan. Before you had a chance to make another sound, Benny slid his cock into your mouth, your tongue dragging against the veins along the length. You sputtered around him as he drove deeper down your throat, his fingers still massaging your neck with each shallow thrust. 
Frankie’s thrusts grew harder, and your muffled cries were silenced as Benny continued snapping his hips forward into your mouth. 
“Ain’t she so pretty like this?” Frankie grunted through each drive of his cock.
“So fucking pretty,” Benny huffed. You swallowed around him, forcing him to choke on his words. “She’s taking our cocks so well. Her mouth feels so fucking good.”
You keened at their words, arousal blooming deep within your stomach as they spoke. They were using your body any way they wanted, and you were desperate for their praise. 
“You enjoy getting used like this, baby?” Frankie asked, his voice low and strained. 
You couldn’t respond as Benny plunged his cock further down your throat, your jaw straining to take his length deeper. You could feel the tears cascading down your temples, your breath forced out of your nose as you struggled under his hold. 
“Aw, pretty girl can’t talk?” Frankie taunted. 
Frankie lifted your ass off the couch, his warm hands squeezing the supple skin as you began assaulting you with unforgiving thrusts. Your cunt clenched around his cock, sucking him in deeper until the tip of his cock brushed against your cervix. You wailed a helpless cry, saliva dripping over Benny’s cock and down your cheeks. 
Your eyes blurred as your climax grew into an inferno inside your stomach. Each thrust on either side of your body plummeted your orgasm closer and closer to the surface, your heartbeat thrumming erratically in your ears. Benny hunched over your body, his hands massaging your breasts, his fingers pinching around your nipples. You arched off the couch, and Frankie kept his grip tight on your hips as he continued railing into you.
“Gonna be a good girl and cum for us, baby?” Frankie crooned.
“Mmmph.” 
You couldn’t speak. You could barely make a coherent noise as your orgasm ignited inside of you, leaving you paralyzed—suspended between the bodies of two men that continued to wreck you completely as you came undone. 
“Such a good fucking girl,” Frankie praised.
“Think she deserves a reward?” Benny questioned, drawing his cock from your mouth.
You heaved in lung-fulls of air, drool still dripping down your face. Benny crouched behind you, his hand fisting your hair to pull your face forward toward Frankie. Frankie’s dark eyes met yours, and he pounded deeper into you, your cries turning into humiliating whimpers.
“You want Frankie to cum inside you, babygirl?” Benny whispered, his tongue tracing along the shell of your ear.
“Y—yes,” you wailed brokenly. “Please, Frankie. Need your cum.”
Frankie’s face scrunched up with concentration as he changed the tempo of his thrusts; they were slower and more powerful. Benny’s grip on your hair remained firm, not allowing you to look anywhere but at Frankie. His tousled dark curls stuck to his forehead with sweat, his jaw clenched as he forcibly thrust into you in one final time. With a carnal groan, Frankie emptied himself inside you, slumping onto your chest with labored breaths. 
“Jesus Christ,” Frankie groaned. 
Benny unwound his fingers from the tendrils of your hair, peppering your cheek and neck with kisses. Frankie lifted his head to look at Benny, and you could faintly see a smirk teasing the corner of his hips.
“I think she can take a bit more. What do you say, Benny?” Frankie grinned.
“I wanna know how good that pussy feels. You gonna let me fill you up, too?” Benny asked, his teeth grazing your neck.
“God, yes,” you exhaled.
Frankie climbed off your body and maneuvered you onto all fours. Your legs wobbled against the cushions, Frankie’s cum slowly leaking from your sore cunt. Benny made his way around the couch, climbing behind your shaking body. Frankie took his spot in front of you, his large hands cupping your face and wiping away the excess saliva that still coated your cheeks and nose.
“Look at the mess you made, pretty girl,” Frankie mumbled, his eyes dancing over you ravenously. 
He leaned in to kiss you, drawing his tongue over your wet lips. You moaned into his open mouth, your body tensing up with anticipation as Benny coated the head of his cock with the wetness leaking from your entrance. 
“Eyes on me, baby,” Frankie ordered, pulling away from your mouth. “I wanna watch you while Benny ruins that perfect pussy.”
That was all Benny needed to hear before he broke you up, the stretch of your cunt around his cock blindingly painful for the first few seconds. Your mouth fell open as his hips pressed against your ass, every glorious inch of him stretching you wide open. A choked gasp fell from your lips as Frankie held your focus, his brown eyes watching with fervid attention. 
“Benny,” Frankie said, never breaking away from your eyes. “Fuck her hard.”
Benny replied with a forceful snap of his hips that sent your body colliding with the couch. You screamed out at the savage pace he set, each connection of his hips against yours sending you into a frenzy of whimpers and sobs.
“So fucking tight and perfect,” Benny huffed between each drive of his cock. “Can’t believe you’ve been keeping her to yourself.”
“She’s all mine, Benny,” Frankie reminded him. “But I think she enjoys being shared.”
You nodded vigorously, flames licking up your nerves as Benny steered you closer to another orgasm. Your nails dug into the cushions, half-moon indentations left in their wake. 
“I want you both,” you panted. “Like this.”
“Yeah, babygirl?” Benny exhaled, bending his body over yours to kiss up your spine.
Frankie dragged you in for a long kiss, a moan exhaling from his mouth into yours. You were drunk on their touch, each hand roaming your body, every kiss, every lust-filled word. You couldn’t get enough.
“Cum inside me, Benny,” you pleaded. 
Benny’s arm braced around your torso, pulling you up until your back was flush with his chest. Frankie climbed over the arm of the sofa, his hands sweeping back the hair from your face. Benny brought his free hand up to Frankie, tugging at his curls until he shuffled closer. Frankie tilted his chin up and met Benny’s lips, their kisses slow and impassioned. Both of their body’s pressed harder against yours, Benny’s cock sliding in and out of you slowly, his thrusts shallow and short. You licked a path up Frankie’s neck, startling a gasp from him as Benny deepened their kiss.
The muscles in Benny’s arms flexed around your chest, his hips snapping hard one last time before his release was painting your insides. You were so fucking full of them both, your body coursing with adrenaline and pleasure. Benny slipped out of you, breaking away from Frankie’s lips and falling back against the couch. 
“Come here, babygirl,” Benny urged, outstretching his arms.
You glanced at Frankie for permission—which was comical as the mixture of their cum leaked down your inner thighs. Frankie gave you a soft smile, peking your lips before guiding you down onto the couch. 
Benny wound his arms around your trembling body, pressing a light kiss on the crown of your head, while Frankie settled against your body on the other side. You nestled into the warmth of their bodies, your eyes drifting shut from exhaustion.
“This was nice,” you hummed, giggling softly. 
“You wanna do it again?” Frankie chuckled, kissing your shoulder.
“Maybe not right now,” you groaned.
The soreness between your legs throbbed violently, and every muscle in your body tense and stiffened. You stretched out between them, feeling both men’s heartbeats pounding against your body.
“I love you, baby,” Frankie muttered into your skin.
“I love you, too,” you exhaled.
Lifting your chin to look at Benny, you watched him eye Frankie knowingly. You could see the emotions swimming in his blue eyes, his lips parted and swollen.
“You love him, too,” you commented.
“Yeah, maybe I do,” Benny said absentmindedly.
Benny’s gaze slid down to you, and you saw it in his eyes. The passion between them, the cohesiveness of their movements with you; it was all right there. You always thought Benny loved Frankie like a brother, but maybe there was something more. You weren’t jealous; you were far from it. You wanted them both, maybe in different ways, but still… you wanted them.
“Would you do this again?” You asked, partially to both of them.
“Absolutely,” Frankie said, at the same time Benny said, “In a heartbeat.”
“Stay the night with us, Benny,” you offered. 
“Wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else,” Benny sighed.
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samkerrworshipper · 7 months
Text
togetherness | pt.2
part 1. | part 2. | part 3. | part 4. | part 5 |
longawaited and has been sitting in my drafts for weeks now cause i wasn’t quite sure if i liked the direction it’s gone in… but highliting different issues n stuff so i hope y’all enjoy! again i’ve edited this on my phone whilst reading from my kindle lol so not going to lie i’m aware that the editing could be shocking… there’s a few more parts sitting in my drafts so lmk if y’all want more
warnings: child exploitation, themes of sexual assault of minors, just general hurt with protective n supportive tillies
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“Now that we’ve settled that, is there anything, anything at all that you’d like to tell me that I could help you with?”
I gulped, there were about six things I could think of just off the top of my head. I was tentative though. I could feel tears starting to form in the back of my eyes as I tried to make the decision in my head.
“No judgement?”
Sam’s immediate nod in response was comforting and apparently enough to get me talking.
“It’s going to sound stupid and I don’t even know what you could do about it considering that I’m probably somewhere in the wrong with it as well.”
Sam looked like a mixture of intrigued and perplexed.
“Y/n, even if I can’t do anything about it, you look like you just need to get it off your chest, I can be that for you as well, just tell me what’s been bothering you so much.”
I sniffled and nodded at Sam, this situation was so abnormally vulnerable for me.
“You know that I was rough around the edges when I got here, I know you haven’t heard the whole story, to put it simply I went through a rough patch when I was 14 and 15, before I got here. I’d just had spine surgery, I thought that I was never going to walk again, let alone play football. I turned to a lot of things, drugs, alcohol, anything. I ran away when I was 14, I don’t remember much of it, just that when I returned home my parents had had enough and they sent me off to the AIS for Tony to train me. Anyways, I’m rambling. Somewhere along the road I sent some explicit videos, photos and texts to my ex boyfriend, graphic ones, there’s a lot of them. He’s been posting them on reddit and twitter and they haven’t gotten any attention yet but with all the media coverage and bad press I’ve had recently I’m worried they are going to be brought up and I don’t know what to do about it.”
Sam’s expression was one thing, completely deflated and shocked. She was typing furiously into her phone whilst she was listening to my story. It took a few minutes of silence for her to reply to me.
“First off I want to start off with telling you how grateful I am for you sharing that information with me, it can’t have been easy and you are incredibly brave for telling me. I’ve got some follow up questions that I need to ask, you don’t have to answer them, I’d just appreciate it if you could try your best, okay?”
I nodded quickly in reply to Sam.
“Okay. How old were you when you sent these videos and how old was your boyfriend at the time?”
“I was 14 or 15, he was in his mid twenties.”
“So that puts him in his late 20s or early 30s right now, if my maths is correct. Did you take these photos and videos or did someone else?”
“I took most of them but he took some.”
Sam nodded at me again.
“Okay based on that question I can tell you that this ex boyfriend of yours is legally in possession of child pornography, that’s an indictable crime. If you want this to well and truly stop then we can go up that path. I want us to talk about this with Tony, it’s ultimately your decision but I think it would be very sensible to take this up with him at the very least. Y/n, you have done absolutely nothing wrong, I need to stress to you how important it is that you understand that. No one is going to blame this on you, because it isn’t your fault, you are a victim of a crime. That isn’t something light. I promise you that I have your best interests in concern when I’m telling you this. I have to ask, have you talked to anyone else about this? Your family? A therapist? A friend? Leah?”
Leah Williamson, my arsenal team captain and my best friend/mom/girlfriend. I shook my head at Sam, I’d wanted to tell Leah, she was the only person I probably trusted enough to tell but I hadn’t seen her in weeks.
“Do you want to talk to someone about it?”
“I was going to talk to Lee about it, eventually. Just with her ACL and us being in different places it didn’t make much sense, plus this stuff is so fucking stupid I didn’t want to bother anyone with it, I’m sorry for bothering you with it, Ellie was right I’m being fucking selfish.”
Sam’s face was unreadable, it was clear she was pretty deep in thought. She sat across from me for a few minutes, in thought, before she stood up and walked around the table, sitting herself down beside me.
“Can I give you a hug?”
I nodded and relaxed a little bit as I felt Sam’s arm snake its way across my shoulders, inevitably bringing me closer to her and into her chest.
“Williamson would want you to tell her, she’ll probably be mad that you didn’t tell her earlier. You are not being a bother to anyone, you have human emotions and this situation you are in is a hard one. You aren't being selfish, you are asking for help, which is a very human thing and you very clearly need it right now, there is nothing wrong with that. Now, how about I call Williamson for you, I’ll see you if you can get down here? I’m going to call Tony down here, I’ll brief him and he’ll help, okay?”
“I don’t want to tell Tony, he’s going to be mad and he’ll probably tell me this kind of behaviour isn’t wanted on his team and then I’ll get sent home.”
I could feel the material of Sam’s jumper that she must have thrown on after training soaking up my tears, that was embarrassing.
“I know you don’t want to, and I can promise you that Tony is going to be nothing but supportive, you’ve done nothing wrong. There is nothing illegal about what you did, now or then. Tony is not going to send you home, I promise. Now, do I need to call Williamson or can you do it?”
Realistically I probably could have, but I really didn’t want to.
“Can you?”
Sam nodded at me immediately, which comforted me a little bit.
“I wouldn’t have offered it if I couldn’t. She should be in Sydney right now to watch the Lionesses play tomorrow night, yeah? I’ll talk to her and we’ll see what we can work out for you. I don’t have her number though, so can you call her on your phone and I’ll talk to her.”
I nodded quickly, shakingly pulling my phone out of my pocket and pushing it out onto the table. I very quickly pulled Leah's contact, I’d called her last night so it wasn’t hard to find. She was the only person in the world that I could talk to when I was at my lowest, the only person who actually cared about me. So last night, whilst I was mid panic attack, on Ellie's and I’s ensuite floor I called her and she’d talked me through it. I should have told her then, it probably would have saved me this whole interaction with Sam, but I hadn’t wanted to worry her anymore, so I blamed it on pressure of being selected to start this week and she’d accepted my answer.
We’d been texting most of the morning, her asking me if I’d gotten sleep and if I was feeling alright, I’d answered shortly with an array of 'yes', because I didn’t want to worry her anymore. I passed the phone over to Sam once I found her phone number and she clicked the call button before pressing the phone up to her ear and standing up from her seat, starting to pace between the seats.
“Hey Leah, this is Sam, Sam Kerr, from the Matildas. Look, I’m here at our Sydney training facility with Y/n, we’ve just had a pretty serious conversation with her about some problems that she’s had recently and I was wondering if you were around so you could be here for her.”
Sam pulled out her own phone again as I assumed she listened to Leah’s response. It amazed me as to how fast her fingers danced across her own screen, it was a different kind of multi tasking.
“Yup, Mmm. Alright, I’ll send you the address, it’s not far from you guys hotel from recollection. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you being able to do this for her, I’ll see you soon and we can talk about it then.”
I gulped as Sam said her farewells and then hung up the phone before walking back over to me.
“She’s coming down, should be here in fifteen or so. She sounded worried about you, mentioned something about you having a panic attack to her on the phone last night and that she was concerned about you. I’ve texted Tony, he’s finishing up with Ellie and then he’s going to be down here. I’m going to get Steph to meet Leah downstairs when she gets here and she’ll bring her up, Y/n, we’re all here to support you however you need, alright?”
Me and Sam stayed silent in the room until about ten minutes later there was a distinct knock against the door.
“Sam, it’s me, unlock the door.”
Steph’s voice was pretty distinct, even through the heavy door. Sam stood up almost immediately, walking to the door and unlocking it before a grumpy looking Steph and a flustered version of Leah made their way through the doorway before Sam had the opportunity to relock it. Leah’s eyes went straight to my own, her whole facial expression was very controlled, she could command an entire room with that face, I knew from experience.
“Are you okay?”
Her words were directed at me, and only me. I pressed my tongue against my front teeth and lip, trying to decide how to answer the question.
“There’s some stuff that’s been happening that I haven’t told you, I’m not in trouble, or at least that’s what Sam is telling me. It’s some stuff from my past, when I was a kid. Explicit images and photos, on the internet, from when I was a kid. They popped up a few weeks ago, starting when I was in Spain with you before we came here. I didn’t bring it up because I thought I was at fault for it as much as the person who has possession of them. Sam told me that it isn’t, that I’ve done nothing wrong. I’m sorry, I know it was fucking stupid and I should have told you about it or not done it, I don’t even remember taking any of the photos or videos, it just happened and now I don’t know what to do because I don’t want it getting out to the public and I just, I don’t know how to deal with it.”
Leah’s face relaxed a little bit as I progressively talked and rambled. Once I was done she walked over to my spot, seated on one of the chairs and wrapped her arms around me.
“Hey, it’s alright, we’re going to sort this out. She’s right, you didn’t do anything wrong and you should have told me earlier but I am so grateful that you are telling me now, yeah? You are so brave kiddo, that’s child exploitation and whoever has possession of those materials is the one who’s in the wrong, okay?”
I nodded into Leah, Steph and Sam were whispering between each other behind us.
“You have to take legal action though.”
Those words made me feel like I’d been stabbed and my guts had been ripped out of my body cavity.
Leah let go of me very gently and pursed her lips.
“Because this isn’t going to go away if you don’t, and I know that you are strong but you aren’t going to be able to live if you know that this person who has possession of these materials is still out there. You’ve been checked out for weeks now, since before Mallorca. You aren’t going to check back into your life until this goes, I know it. I need you checked in, I need you to be my girl, not the skeleton of your own body that you inhabit as a coping mechanism when something bad happens.”
I think Leah would have said more if it wasn’t for the incessant knocking against the door that came again. Sam was the one who went to the door again, letting Tony in. He looked flustered as well, and a little bit worried. I’d known the man since I was 15, he’d seen me in some pretty interesting situations. Sam intercepted him before he could say anything, pulling him aside and giving him what I assumed to be the rundown of the last hour.
“I don’t think I can handle this getting out, it will, if I take legal action this is going to get out and then I’m going to be Y/n Y/l/n, the Matilda’s exploitative rookie and I’ll never be back here. My career will be over, Jonas won’t want me back, everything I've worked for will be done.”
Leah took a deep breath before wrapping her arms around me and working her hands through my scalp and hair.
“If you take legal action you will be supported, I’ll make sure of it. We are a part of a community of women that uplift us for everything you do, this won’t be any different. There will be some who judge, there is always going to be someone there to judge you. Y/n, you need to do this for your sanity, I won’t lose you to your mental health again, not like last year. Kerr has done the right thing here, bringing this up, it shows me that she cares a lot more about you then you think, it also shows me that she knows what’s best for this team and you. She wouldn’t be doing this if she didn’t think this was the best course of action.”
I nodded into Leah, trying to convince myself that her words were correct. Eventually, after Sam had given Tony the full rundown he sat down across from me, exactly where Sam had been beforehand. Sam and Steph both stood behind me and Leah, Sam’s arms resting gently on my shoulders, it was grounding.
“Sam’s told me about what’s happening. First of all I want to say how sorry I am that you are going through this, it’s not something that anyone should have to deal with, ever. Second of all I want to let you know that this team, this whole nation is in support of you. Look, it’s too late for me to take any action now. I’m going to get the police to come down tomorrow morning, you aren’t in trouble. I just think that they are going to have a better understanding of this situation than any of us could. They’ll come down, we’ll have a talk about all of this, they’ll ask the questions they need to. We don’t need to make any decisions now, we’ll talk to them, Sam and I will be there to advocate for you. After that we can make decisions about taking legal action and whatnot. Otherwise I just wanted to tell you genuinely, from the bottom of my heart how much we all care about you and value you here, we are all going to be here for whatever you need in the future, you are a valued part of this team and family and we are all here to look out for your needs, okay?”
I gulped, I could feel fresh tears springing to my eyes again. I was petrified of the police, to say the least, but Tony’s voice was so reassuring. He was the father that I’d never had and when I was 15 and he’d met me I’d been in a bad place, I’d needed him to be that figure in my life and he had been. He gave me a routine, gave me something to wake up for every morning. I probably wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for Tony. He’d given me a chance when no one else had been prepared to and for that I would always be in debt to him for.
“Okay, I’ll get in contact with the police, we’ll get a constable down tomorrow morning and we can have an open conversation with them about it, you are not in trouble, nothing is going to happen that will end in consequences for you. I think though that you need to head back to the hotel and get some proper sleep, your body needs it. So head back, don’t worry about any of this, because I’m going to sort it out and we’ll talk about it in the morning with a clean slate and mindset, alright?”
I nodded at Tony, I didn’t really have much to say.
“Thank you Coach.”
He nodded at me, before standing up and walking around to the other side of the octoval table and giving me a pat on the back.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, don’t worry about this anymore, it’s going to be okay. Get back to the hotel, we’ve got an early wakeup tomorrow.”
I nodded at Coach, watching as he left the room just as quickly as he’d entered it.
“I’ve talked to Steph, her and I are rooming together so we’ll switch, she’ll stay with Ellie and you can come and room in with me, I think we’ll keep it that way for the rest of the tournament.”
I looked over at Sam, nodding along with what she was saying. Leah reached her arms around me, a big bear hug.
“And I am here, I expect you to check in with me, at least twice a day. When you guys head off to Melbourne or Brisbane I’m not going to be able to be there, so I need you to stay in contact with me, okay? Anybody does so much as look at you wrong I want to be the first to know, okay?”
I nodded at Leah, half in fear, half in adoration. She was the only person in the world that I actually trusted in. Our bond had been forced, when I’d moved to London to play for Arsenal I’d been moved into the spare room in her apartment and in a very short amount of time we’d created a bond that extended beyond the realm of friendship. I loved her, she was the first person besides Tony to give me a chance and he was obligated to give me on, Leah had chosen to fight for me and to stick by my side even when it wasn’t easy, she was a good person, better than I was sure I’d ever be.
“We’ll drop you back to your hotel on our way home Williamson, it’s the least we could do considering you got here so quickly, can you just give us five minutes to grab our things from the locker room?”
Sam’s voice held no room for argument, she was insisting on giving Leah a ride home and Leah didn’t try to object.
“Please, call me Leah and if it’s no trouble I would really appreciate it. I can meet you guys down in the foyer in about five, I need to go to the loo, so whilst I’m doing that how about you guys go and get your stuff together?”
Sam, Steph and I all walked back down to the change rooms in a comfortable silence. It was when we actually made it back to the rooms that I realised I still had my boots on, the cleats that were spotless from not even getting any wear at training. The cleats that a few hours ago had seemed impossible to tie up. I made quick business of pulling them off of my feet, throwing them into my kit bag and pulling out the pair of Nike dunks that I’d worn in earlier when we’d all come down here for our match analysis. Sam and Steph both made quick work off slipping out of their training kits and changing into sweat pant duos that matched with me. After they’d gotten changed and refreshed we all grabbed our bags and whatever other things we had lying around before making our way down to the foyer.
Leah was waiting for us, tapping her foot violently against the marble floors. When she spotted the three of us out of the corner of her eye her stress ceased almost immediately. I’d learnt a lot about Leah in the amount of time I’d known her. One thing about England’s captain was that she was not as fearless as everyone credited her as being, she put on a brave face, a bloody good one, but she was just as human as everyone else and sometimes it showed, especially when she felt uncomfortable in a situation or she didn’t think she deserved to be where she was. I’d moved in with her initially just before she'd led the Lionesses to their victory at the euro’s, and at the time Leah had been a basket case to be nice. I think that was how we’d bonded, through our similar insecurities of not being good enough to fill the shoes that had been passed down to us.
“C’mon cap, let’s get going.”
Leah smiled at me and nodded. We’d been keeping our relationship under wraps for a few months now. Neither of us were insecure in our situation and we were happy to enjoy our private, happy and blessed life together. Plus we hadn’t really seen much of each other in the past month or so, being caught up with our obligations to our national teams. Leah was also very committed to her rehab and I couldn’t be there for every step of that so we’d spent some time apart. We’d both agreed when the new Arsenal season rolled around that we’d tell the team, but still keep it under wraps from the public for as long as we could. Neither of us were worried about the public finding out, I was out, had been since I was 14. Leah wasn’t officially but she’d also never dated a man and in the eyes of the female soccer world that pretty much means you're gay. It would come out when it did and we were prepared for that to happen.
We walked out to Steph’s car, piling all of our bags in the boot before Sam and Steph slid into the passenger and drivers seats whilst Leah and I both took seats in the backseat. Somewhere along in the drive her hand made its way to my own, resting gently on top of my knee cap. I interlocked our fingers and smiled up at her, this was the part of a secret relationship that I liked, getting moments just between the two of you that only the two of you understood. The sweet nothings. I felt my heart plummet a little bit as we arrived out the front of Leah’s hotel and I realised that I was going to have to say goodbye, potentially for a few more weeks. That was the suckish part of being a professional athlete messing around with another professional athlete, there wasn’t always a timeline on when you’d see each other next, sometimes it was just situational.
I made the call to walk Leah to the door of the hotel, when we got to the doors I gave her a hug, a big, long hug. She hugged me back, tightly. Leah was good at hugs. When we finally had to come apart I looked up at her, with my big green eyes and apparently she couldn’t resist because she reached down and honoured me with a peck. It was nothing more, a small gesture but to me it was everything.
“I love you okay, be safe, text me, call me. I am always here for you, don’t keep me in the dark on things that you think are going to burden me, they aren’t, call your therapist, please.”
I nodded at Leah, she was using her captain's voice with me that she knew I couldn’t refuse.
“When you get back to the hotel I expect you to eat some proper food, not of those bloody granola bars that you insist are nutritional, proper food. Hydrate, at least a litre of water. Sleep, you deserve to sleep, let yourself sleep. Call me in the morning and tell me how you are feeling, okay?”
I gulped and nodded at Leah, an action that I was becoming aware I might have done too much of tonight.
“Love you too, thank you for being here for me.”
“Anytime, I’m only ever one call away, now go home.”
I gave Leah one final look before walking back to the car, closing the door behind me only to be bombarded with googly eyes from the two co captains sitting in the front of the car.
“You and Williamson?”
Sam’s voice was the first one to break the sound barrier, it scared me a little bit.
“Yeah.”
I made it sound like it was a non fact, like every person on the planet knew that I was in the bed sheets of the Lionesses Captain.
“Fuck, I knew it, McCabe owes me fifty quid.”
Steph’s voice was steadier and surprised me a little bit.
“We all had bets, how long have you guys been together?”
“We’ve been dating for 6 or 8 months, fucking around with each other since I joined Arsenal so about a year or so.”
Steph’s eyebrows rose to the top of her forrid, obviously very surprised by my answer.
“You're trying to tell me that you and Lee have just casually been hiding a relationship behind closed doors for months.”
“I mean we’re roommates, it wasn’t that hard to hide, plus we just aren’t rabbits who need to fuck on every surface unlike Sam and fucking Kristie, I’m never going to be able to mentally burn the image of you two getting at it on the pool table after the olympics, that was fucking traumatic.”
Sam’s face had flushed, we constantly brought it up with her. After our bronze loss to the US in the olympics a lot of the team had gone out in celebration with the Americans, what I hadn’t expected to find that night when I’d walked into the room that I thought was the bathroom was Sam eating her secret girlfriend out on the table. It had messed with my brain permanently.
“Hey you're the one who’s always bringing it up, maybe you were secretly into it, secret fantasy between you and Williamson.”
I loudly gagged from my spot in the backseat, extremely displeased by Sam’s imaginative imagery.
“Nobody thinks that Sam, it’s just you and all of your lost brain cells.”
There was something so comfortable about the dynamic between Sam and Steph, something so sisterly and bonded. They were like family, they messed around with each other and pushed each other but they loved each other and the both of them knew that at the end of the day. They might not have been the closest on the team, they weren’t each other's best friends but they were family and that was all that mattered.
“Whatever you say Stephy.”
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Text
WYD💬2
Part 1 |
Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
Summary: A fan makes an offer your can’t refuse.
(based on suggestion he’s been overworking himself for weeks if not months. He knows he needs a break but his work is too important. Maybe what he needs is someone to take care of him so he can focus more on work. from @thezombieprostitute)
Characters: Bucky Barnes
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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Your stomach writhes like worms in the dirt. You sit in the back of the uber, uneager to be at your destination. The driver asks if it’s a special occasion and you just sort of mutter. You look down at yourself; you’re sure dressed for something special.
It’s plain enough. A classic little black dress. Thick straps and a simple silhouette. Still, it’s tighter than you’re used to. You dressed it up with a slender silver chain that holds a heart charm and a velvet clutch. Your usual cotton and wool pale in comparison.
You watch on the GPS as the car moves closer and closer to the endpoint. You take out your phone and check the messages. You can barely read any of it as your hands jitter.
You’re being stupid. This is dangerous and stupid. You can’t meet a stranger. Even if he did pay you to do so. Even if you really need the money. You should just send it back.
‘Reservation for Barnes. The hostess will seat you.’
He sent that about an hour ago. His anticipation has only been met by your silent dread and dulcet agreement. It’s one thing to post photos online, faceless at that, but to meet a man like this. This is more than just posing and primping for a camera.
You thank the driver as he pulls up to the restaurant. You get out reluctantly and linger along the curb, tipping the uber as an excuse to take your time. You look up at the dusky facade and gulp. The cursive moniker assures you of your displacement. 
You take a breath and cross the broad sidewalk. You dodge out of the way of another couple entering the restaurant. You don’t follow them as you hover outside. There were at least a few decades between the pair; what is this place?
You hug your wrap tight and teeter on your heels as you try to see through the tinted windows. You need to scare yourself out of this. You get one look at this guy and you’re gone. You’re running the other direction. Only then will it really be real. Only then will you get a bit of sense in you. 
“Just in time, doll,” a deep voice crawls up your spine and you gasp as you twist around to face the speaker. 
Your ankle bends dangerously as your heel catches in the pavement. You bat your lashes up at the stranger; it’s him. He’s even more handsome in person. It almost takes your breath away.
“Uh, hi,” you murmur. Your escape is foiled. Your second doubts are crushed in that instant. You don’t have the courage to walk away. If he’d never seen you, you could've easily scurried back to your hole and deleted everything. “Mr. Barnes?”
He laughs. His smile is deadly. He puts his hand on your arm, bold but casual.
“Bucky,” he offers, “come on,” he checks the watch on his other wrist, “we’re late.”
He nudges you towards the door, bringing his hand down to hover along your lower back. You walk forward numbly. You don’t know what else to do but go with it.
He opens the door and ushers you ahead of him. The hostess greets him as ‘Mr. Barnes’ and is prompt to lead you through the dim lounge. A round booth awaits you near the back of the restaurant.
The hostess takes your wrap and you place your clutch on the seat as you settle onto the curved cushion. Bucky sits and orders a bottle of Shiraz. You fight to keep your shoulders up, trying to wilt in the luxury of the place. You’re an assistant librarian, what are you doing here?
He slides to the back of the booth, reaching over to wrap his hand lightly around your wrist. He tugs until you reticently shimmy closer. You keep your eyes on the table, fumbling with the wrapped silverware.
“Nervous,” he says. You nod and still the cutlery. “Me too.”
You’re surprised by his confession. He must do this all the time. He’s rich and handsome and oh, how stupid you really are. Of course you’re just another in the long line. 
You look up at him, flinching as you find him watching you. You wonder if your lipstick is patchy or if you smeared your eye liner again. You bring your hands back into your lap and wring them.
You notice the gray patch among the short stubble along his jaw, a few more strands of silver laced around his temples. His hair is smoothed back but the longer strands threaten to fall forward. He lifts his arm coolly and rests it on the seat behind you. He smells amazing.
“I…” you begin. “I think I made a mistake.”
He tilts his head, his eyes narrowing slightly but otherwise, he does not react.
“How do you know? You haven’t even made the mistake yet,” his hand drifts down to tickle your shoulder, “one glass of wine. How about that? You have one glass before we order, then you can decide.”
“I… I’m not what you think I am,” you utter.
“Doll, you’re exactly what I want,” he winks just before he turns away, another dashing smile sent to the waitress as she arrives with the wine.
One drink. You can do that.
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ronniaugust · 11 months
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How To Write Good Dialogue (Part 1)
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I'm gonna start this by saying I'm not trying to sound like a know-it-all. I am just tired of posts like these being absolutely fucking useless. I am aware this is basically me screaming into a void and I’m more than okay with that.
This guide is meant for intermediate screenwriters, but beginners are also absolutely welcome. :)
(about me)
-♠︎-♠︎-♠︎-♠︎-
I've noticed a rise in film students who want to make films that have no dialogue. Probably after your professor showed you Doodlebug, right? Fuck that.
I'll make another post about writing a short film, but all you need to know is: Don't waste the audience’s time. Most of these no-dialogue shorts have very little substance and take way too long to tell the shortest possible story. Not a good idea.
Useless Dialogue
Plain and simple, don't write useless dialogue. Useless dialogue is dialogue that just doesn't fucking matter. Dialogue matters by having ✨subtext.✨
What is subtext? Subtext is the meaning behind the action. That's it.
If I tell you that I love you and I got big doe eyes while I say it, it means I love you. If I tell you I love you through a clenched jaw without looking at you, I don't necessarily love you right now.
Simple, right? Great.
Now think about the subtext behind every line. Does your character mean what they're saying? Are they doing it to get what they want? What is going through their mind as they say it? As long as you know your character, you’ll have these answers ready to go. If you don’t, you’ll figure it out eventually. Just keep writing.
When you write your character walking into a Starbucks and saying, "One venti iced coffee," does that do something? Why do I need to see someone's boring Starbucks order? Do I need to know that your character's boring? Why are you writing a boring character? [Of course, in the rare situation where this is some revealing clue to the massive crime investigation, then it makes sense.]
Useless dialogue is any dialogue that has no meaning or purpose in your script. Delete and move on. You don't need to write entire conversations or scenes that bore us, just write what we care about.
I took a class once where my professor called a version of this "trimming the fat." Get us into your scene and out of your scene in as little time as it takes to have it achieve its full purpose in the script.
[P.S. You don’t “inject” subtext into your lines. Idk who started that vernacular in subtext teachings but I hate it.]
Show vs. Tell
I remember a glorious fight I got into with a Redditor last year about show vs. tell… TL;DR: Dialogue is “show” if you write it with intention and subtext. If someone says that dialogue is inherently “tell,” they’re wrong and can go fuck themselves.
Dialogue that is “tell” is expositional dialogue. But, hot take: Exposition isn't just in dialogue. It’s also those annoying clichés that make you roll your eyes in the theater (which we just call clichés and not exposition). I’m sure every professor I’ve had will disagree with this and then get me into a long conversation about it, but let’s ignore that for right now.
Have you ever seen a movie where a character rubs an old, worn-out photo of a young girl while looking depressed? That's exposition. That character has a dead daughter. No shit.
Clichés are incredibly annoying. We all know that. Assume that any cliché you see - in this context - is exposition and try your best not to write it. (Tropes are different and sometimes necessary, so I’m not talking about that.)
Point blank: When you have subtext in your lines, they are "show,” not “tell.”
Before moving on, I'll bring up that while technically the dead daughter photo is subtextual, it is as close to the character saying “My daughter is dead,” as you can get. Don't treat the audience like we're fucking stupid.
The First 15
If you don’t know what the Inciting Incident is, please look up “3 Act Structure” before reading this.
The first 15 pages of your script is the part that comes before the Inciting Incident. This is the part you want to get right because, although people probably won’t leave the theater, they will absolutely find something else on the streaming service they’re using. The people making said movie will also just toss your script in the trash before it’s even produced, so it's best to get it right.
Dialogue in the first 15 generally follows the same rules, but carries a heftier additional rule. All dialogue in the first 15 minutes must, must, must tell us something about your character.
Remember when I talked about that boring Starbucks order? Why is your character boring? Don’t write that. Don’t write nice characters. Or pleasant characters. Or friendly characters. No one cares.
You want empathy. This does not mean “relatable.” It means “empathetic.” There is a difference.
I personally relate to Vi in Arcane, but I empathize with Theo in Children of Men. Both are excellent, but one personally resonates a bit more with me. You cannot write a character that deeply resonates with every single person, it is impossible.
With each line of dialogue, you must be saying something about your character that generates the empathy. Instead of telling you how to do this, I’ll direct you to a movie that will do better than an explanation: Casablanca.
Watch how Rick interacts with the world. What kind of man is Rick? Watch what he does, what he says, and how he treats people and himself. Watch that empty glass on the table. Watch his contradictions. Everything. Those things matter and it’s what makes you want to watch Rick for the entire duration of Casablanca.
“Realism”
This is maybe more directorial, but make your characters human enough, not too human.
Too human is when you’ve tried your best to capture all those little life-like speech patterns. You know, the ones that no one fucking cares about.
If your character coughs, they’re sick. If they clear they’re throat, they’re uncomfortable. If a bruise isn’t going away, they’re going to die. Simple.
Every moment on screen matters. Everything the audience sees is meant to lead them to a conclusion. Not the conclusion, just a conclusion.
The realism you want is in the choices your character makes, not how many times they say “Uh,” in a sentence.
Conclusion
Dialogue matters and should not be treated lightly or without care. Once you have this all engrained in your mind, dialogue should become effortless.
If you want an excellent way to think about this, Robert McKee's Story has an excellent chapter that helped clarify this all for me. Here's an excerpt and the context.
Warning, spoilers for Chinatown.
"If I were Gittes at this moment, what would I do?"
Letting your imagination roam, the answer comes:
"Rehearse. I always rehearse in my head before taking on life's big confrontations."
Now work deeper into Gittes's emotions and psyche:
Hands white-knuckled on the steering wheel, thoughts racing: "She killed him, then used me. She lied to me, came on to me. Man, I fell for her. My guts are in a knot, but I'll be cool. I'll stroll to the door, step in and accuse her. She lies. I send for the cops. She plays innocent, a few tears. But I stay ice cold, show her Mulwray's glasses, then lay out how she did it, step by step, as if I was there. She con-fesses. I turn her over to Escobar; I'm off the hook."
EXT. BUNGALOW-SANTA MONICA
Gittes' car speeds into the driveway.
You continue working from inside Gittes' pov, thinking:
"I'll be cool, I'll be cool ..." Suddenly, with the sight of her house, an image of Evelyn flashes in your imagination. A rush of anger. A gap cracks open between your cool resolve and your fury.
The Buick SCREECHES to a halt. Gittes jumps out.
"To hell with her!"
Gittes SLAMS the car door and bolts up the steps.
Story by Robert McKee, pg 156
The context of this page is McKee's way of explaining how to write characters. I found it very helpful.
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Thanks for reading! I probably forgot something, so I made this a “part 1.”
I hope this helps someone since I’m really tired of finding short films on YouTube that are all fucking silent. The few who have done it well have been copied to death, so please write some dialogue. I promise you it’s so much better if you do.
Asks are open! :)
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yoon-kooks · 1 year
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the airdrop incident | myg
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🗿pairing: yoongi x reader
🗿genre: fluff, neighbor!au, f2l, childhood friends, best friend's brother
🗿summary: You accidentally AirDrop a racy photo of yourself in strappy lingerie to your hot and arrogant neighbor Min Yoongi.
🗿word count: 1k
a/n: yes this is for yoongi's bday and yes im 471298 years late🥹
An onlooker might be wondering why you’re standing outside your neighbor’s door at ass o’clock in nothing but an oversized tee, but the answer is simple. Mistakes were made. You’re an idiot.
But then he has the audacity to answer the door. “He” as in Min Yoongi, your childhood friend slash nemesis, the older brother of your best friend, or, in the simplest terms, your hot neighbor.
“Yes?” he raises a brow, staring at the way you’re shivering outside his door, the way your perky nipples are most definitely poking through your shirt. You’re sure he sees it all. But given the fact that he’s also seen you practically naked, you don’t even bother covering up. What’s the point?
“Did you, by chance, get an AirDrop like five minutes ago?” you get straight to the point. It’s fucking freezing, after all.
“Depends,” he hums, eyes still very much on your chest. You’re pretty sure he’s dating that pretty brunette you’ve seen sneaking in and out of his house lately, so why’s he looking at you like that? “What was the AirDrop?”
“A picture of me,” you mumble. It was freezing a minute ago, but now your face feels hot. That’s weird.
“Hmm, not sure if the one I’m thinking of is you or not.” The bastard puts on his most exaggerated thinking face—basically the thinking emoji with the hand on his chin. “What were you wearing?”
“Nothing!” you squeak at him. Both of you know no one fucking uses AirDrop except old people. He’s obviously playing dumb and knows what’s going on. He just wants to hear it from your mouth to make his ego bigger than it already is. “You know what I’m talking about.”
“Pretty sure you were wearing something…” he furrows his brow, unlocking his phone to “confirm” what he saw. Like your favorite villain Swiper the Fox, you snatch the phone out of his hand. (He actually just hands it to you, but you like the Dora reference.) “Ah, yes. Black strappy lingerie, right? I didn’t know you were like that, Y/N.”
“Fuck you,” you hiss as you search for the pic in question. AirDrop must have its own stupid section on the phone because you can’t find it anywhere.
“Relax, I already deleted it,” he chuckles. You’re not falling for it. Surely he’s already leaked the photo on OnlyFans. You don’t have a whole lot of faith in Min Yoongi. He’s never been The Nice Guy. “Who were you trying to send it to?”
“None of your business.” He has a girlfriend, after all. Why should he care about who you’re sending those kinds of pics to?
“My sister?”
“Fine. Yes, her.”
“You’re sneaking around sending nudes to my sister? On AirDrop?” he narrows his eyes. Why does he seem more disgusted at the AirDrop part? You’d laugh if you weren’t so stressed. “She’s in a very committed relationship, you know.”
“I’m aware.” You don’t know what’s worse—him thinking you’re hitting on his sister aka your best friend, or admitting the pic was from a photoshoot for your new job. There are no winners here. Might as well come clean. “She requested the pic so she could show support for her lingerie model best friend.”
“My little Y/N grew up and became a lingerie model?” He tilts his head, intrigued. He might’ve deleted the pic from his phone, but you bet the image is still ingrained in that fuckboy head of his. You wonder how his girlfriend feels about him thinking about other girls in that context. You’d feel shitty. “In that case, I’d also like to show support. Mind if you send the pic ag—” 
You cut him off with a growl.
“I kid, I kid.” He waves his hands so you don’t pounce on him. But then something occurs to him. “Wait, so AirDropping it to me wasn’t ‘an accident’?” he asks with air quotes.
“No, it was a real accident, Yoongi,” you scoff. You can’t believe he thought you’d intentionally sent that pic to him. He’s so full of himself.
“Well that’s no fun.”
“Elaborate.”
“It would’ve been kinda cute if you did it to get my attention,” he shrugs. “Just like when we were younger. Remember how you’d always tug on my arm and pout until I acknowledged you?”
“No, but it’s kinda weird that you remember it.” You finally cross your arms in front of your chest. “It’s also kinda weird that you want my attention when that’s what your girlfriend is there for.”
“It’s kinda weird that you keep up with my love life and know I have a girlfriend,” he fires back at you. “I’m breaking up with her, by the way. Just in case you wanted to know.”
You pause the petty war for a second. Min Yoongi is breaking up with his girlfriend because you accidentally sent him one (1) risqué pic of yourself? To be fair, you do look pretty hot in that photo. But still! You’ve known the guy your entire life, and all it’s ever amounted to was banter with a hint of feelings on your end. You’d always assumed Yoongi thought of you as nothing more than his little sister’s friend. Surely he’s just toying with you right now. Because that’s what fuckboys do. 
That’s what Min Yoongis do.
“Good to know,” you nod, the cold breeze coming back. You better leave now before you do something stupid again. Stupid AirDrop. “Well, I’m gonna go now. It’s fucking cold.”
You drop his phone into his palm, your fingers grazing his in the process. They’re so warm. But your fluffy blanket is warmer. And it’d never betray you.
“Thanks for only being a slight dick about the pic,” you say, scurrying off to your doorstep.
“Anytime,” he smirks. Asshole. “I’ll AirDrop you later.”
“I don’t want your dick pics, sir.”
You hear his laugh before closing the door.
A minute later, you get an AirDrop of what you hope is not in fact a dick pic. You accept it immediately.
It’s a blurry selfie of him on his bed, flipping you off with an emphasis on how much extra mattress space he has. That has to be the quickest breakup of all time. They don’t call him a fuckboy for nothing. You shouldn't feel this tempted.
He accompanies the pic with one simple text:
Yoongi🗿 [2:03AM] “Your loss”
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