#and trying to answer any follow up questions people might have

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Unknown, Ep 10: Qian and Yuan

I’ve had a few people ask if I was going to do a breakdown post for the final scene between Qian and Yuan. Admittedly, I was not planning on doing so, but I like the attention 😈 so I will! 

Last we left off, Qian and San Pang were having a very difficult conversation, San Pang forced Qian to think about the future and was kicked out as a result. 

We start with a moment with each character to themselves. Qian closes the door behind San Pang and we see him hand at the door for a second, head hung in a way that feels very tired. He walks away from the door back to the couch to grab his glasses and wrap up the evening, when the camera cuts to Yuan sitting on the staircase, just out of sight of Qian. 

We see Yuan look up at the ceiling, take a deep breath, and then slowly move his eyes back to center. He is processing everything that he just heard from San Pang and Qian. Yuan is trying to keep himself composed here, he knows that Qian will be heading up the stairs eventually and so he stays seated because he wants Qian to know that he heard everything. Because Yuan is fucking mad. 

Qian heads up the stairs and we get, what could not be a more perfect little deer in headlights look from Qian as he processes that Yuan has heard everything. And I do love what this show does in how it portrays its characters because Yuan is still Qian’s little brother, and his face in the camera looks like that of an upset little kid. “Xiao Yuan,” Qian says as Yuan stands up and rushes down the stairs. In such a quick moment, Chris rolls his eyes, looks up, and then down like Qian is annoyed at Yuan’s behavior while knowing that he is absolutely going to have to be the one to handle it. 

Yuan brushes past him, but Qian immediately turns and follows after him, calls after him, tells him to wait. But Yuan keeps walking. Where he’s going? I have no fucking clue, but it is clear that Qian’s words aren’t going to cut it. Yuan has heard everything that Qian told San Pang. He’s heard about Qian’s wish for their happiness, he’s heard San Pang tell Qian that they love each other, that they have tried everything to make them not love each other, and what he hasn’t heard is an answer to San Pang’s question: 

“Do you want him to have a future without you?”

I don’t know exactly what (if any) part of the conversation acted as the tipping point for Yuan, but he has been pissed the entire episode about Qian hiding his medical stuff from him. So I can imagine that not hearing an answer from Qian about wanting to be in Yuan’s future might serve as a last straw kind of deal. 

And it marks a very important change in Qian that he runs after Yuan this time, that he physically puts himself in front of Yuan to stop him. Because he doesn’t want Yuan to go somewhere to cool off the way he did during Yuan’s first confession four years prior. He doesn’t want to just wait it out. He actually wants to talk to Yuan about where his head is at. That is huge progress from Mr. Hit First Talk Later. 

“Ge.” Yuan says, and then lets out a very big breath, like he’s trying to temper his feelings, but the frustration still bleeds out of him “It was never your fault,” 

Ah, here we go. What set Yuan off is Qian talking with San Pang about the Russian Roulette, reading between the lines there and understanding that Qian is scared of giving in to his feelings for Yuan because he blames himself for how deeply, how steadfastly Yuan loves him. Yuan is willing to die for him, and Qian has never had that before. He’s scared of giving in to his feelings for Yuan because he is scared of losing Yuan, and he is scared that Yuan’s love for him means Yuan will be lost because of him. 

“It was never your fault,” Yuan said and he put his hands on Qian’s shoulders. 

I do not even know how to describe the look Qian gives Yuan when he heard those words, nor can I really tell you what emotion(s) Qian is feeling in that moment, but I can tell you that I am obsessed with that look on his face. It’s like his breath catches in his throat and there is an ambiguity there, just like there was a bit of ambiguity in the head nod he gave San Pang, because he’s out of breath from running after Yuan, but there is also this chance that the pause in his breathing there is because of what Yuan said. Anyway: 

“Even though I know that in the end you might not want all that I’ve given-” 

Yuan says, while Qian looks down in the direction of his shoulders, where Yuan’s hands were just a moment ago. They made excellent casting choices here, I actually think for this scene it is really important that Kurt is taller than Chris, because it adds some extra power to Yuan’s position for me here. The way Yuan looks down at Qian makes him seem even more pissed off about the entire situation, almost like he’s belittling Qian. He wants to dig a knife in here, and he’s being successful at it

“Hearing it first hand still hurts a little,” 

And we are back in our original confession dynamic. Qian is not looking at Yuan, Yuan refuses to look away from Qian. Qian looks kind of out of it, I would say he is dissociating a little bit, but I actually think what is happening here is that Qian is getting hit with the full force of Yuan’s words. I think he is absorbing and processing everything that is being said and understanding how not making a decision is hurting Yuan. Mostly because of how quick his reaction time is to trying to stop Yuan from walking away immediately after he says it hurts. 

“I’ll be fine. I just need some time.” Yuan says, and I do think he means it. I think when Yuan came back from the States he had reached a point where he could live without Qian changing their relationship status, even if he didn’t want to. 

But as Yuan tries to walk away, Qian stops him.

“I didn’t mean it that way,” look at him using his words!  Qian looks so fucking exhausted when he does. The world has weighed heavy on him for so long, he’s been fighting an internal battle with himself about his feelings for Yuan for ages. It’s a lot, and the way Chris holds Qian here makes it feel like a lot. But, Yuan finally settles, because Qian is willing to engage in conversation. He is trying to clarify a misunderstanding, he is not outright rejecting Yuan here, he is not running away from talking about his feelings for Yuan. And so Yuan can stay, because there is some hope left there for him to hold on to. 

He releases another huge breath, he stretches for just a second, grounding himself. He looks back at Qian “Then what do you mean?” 

Qian stares in to the void, then rolls his eyes upwards, closes his eyes, and sighs. Chris shakes his head a little, like Qian is giving up. Because he is giving up. Because Qian is about to say the words. He is about to admit that his feelings for Yuan aren’t clear cut. Yuan looks away from  Qian in this moment, where Qian is getting himself together. 

gifs by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

“I can’t really figure out if it is love or something else that my feelings for you are.” And at the end of this, he isn’t running from the words anymore, because he looks at Yuan and Yuan is looking back at him. When Yuan first admitted his feelings, his suffering caused Qian to avoid eye contact. When Yuan returned, Qian couldn’t stop looking at Yuan. When listening to Yuan once again speak to his feelings and tell Qian he was hurting, Qian started in his comfort zone, in the old habits of looking away. But when he is actually admitting his feelings to Yuan, he does turn to look him in the eye. He isn’t avoiding it anymore. 

“Is it the love of a brother? Can we really turn it into romantic love? I don’t know.” Qian is finally having the conversation he has needed to have with Yuan. This is confusing, how do you separate your feelings out? How do you know? What happens if things don’t go well? How much are you set to lose if things devolve?” 

Yuan is capable of holding, understanding, and pushing that nuance, we’ve seen him do it before at the river. “This thing between us, is it because you don’t want or you don’t dare?” 

“Yes.” Qian says “All I know is I can’t live without you.” 

Yuan has seen that, San Pang and Lili have seen that, we have seen that. Qian wants to be careful with how he proceeds along this path, and he is right to do so. Because it is hard to determine, when you have known someone so long, when you have raised them, when you have seen them as a brother, when you have not had love outside of the family before, when that love has existed the entire time, and has been different the entire time, and how do you recognize that when you are in it? 

There is a pause. 

“Four years later, you came back.”

There is another pause. 

I love these pauses. I love Qian putting space between these thoughts, whether he is scrambling internally for what to say, or whether he is hesitant to voice them, I do not know. I just know that I love love love when directors allow for breathing room. 

“I saw your letter of last words.” 

Qian stops looking at Yuan here. Another little pause. 

“That’s when I started to feel scared.” 

The camera cuts to a wide shot, where both Qian and Yuan are visible. And we can see Yuan reacting to what Qian is saying. Yuan also is not making eye contact, he is fidgeting a little. But he is listening intently to Qian’s words. The blocking of this shot is interesting to me too, because the way that Chris is standing has Qian facing Yuan, but we don’t see enough of Chris’ eyes here, so while it looks like Qian is looking at Yuan, that is not necessarily the case. We have seen him look away multiple times and his head barely moves. 

Qian is talking in to the void, and Yuan is picking up the signal. Another pause, and right before Qian continues talking, Yuan turns to look at him with this look of surprise on his face. His mouth is slightly agape, his eyes look soft staring at Qian.

 “I’m terrified,” Qian says. “What if you had no chance to come back? I don’t know what I would do.” 

Yuan looks at Qian, looks away, looks up like he is trying to decide how to feel. What type of treatment he should be giving to Qian at this moment. Should he be bitter, should he be harsh, should he be soft? 

“Wei Qian.” Yuan says 

AND I WILL ONCE AGAIN SHAKE MY FIST AT THE SUBTITLES FOR TRANSLATING GE AS QIAN BECAUSE IT SO SEVERELY CUTS THE IMPORTANCE OF MOMENTS LIKE THIS ONE. 

Qian cannot figure out his feelings! He can’t figure out if he loves Yuan like a brother or something more! So Yuan cuts the brother out of it. He calls Qian by his name. He calls him Wei Qian, he puts the separation up for Qian. Is this the love of a brother? That’s an easier question to answer when you aren’t being called ‘brother’. How do you feel when you aren’t being reminded of your connection? 

I do not have the ability to describe the way Kurt’s mouth moves here, but I love the expression he gives Yuan as he finishes saying Wei Qian. He’s clearly going for a soft approach. Qian’s mouth, which hangs open just slightly, closes shut. 

“I’ve told you. I can sum up my life in two words: Wei Qian.” A smile starts to creep up his face. That’s love, bitch! Yuan was pissed, but now that Qian has stopped him, not that Qian has voices his hesitations, now that Qian has admitted that he can’t live without Yuan, even if he doesn’t know what his feelings for Yuan are, the love Yuan has for Qian melts the anger and lets the love bleed through. “But I’m not making you take responsibility for me.” 

This is a very important character trait of Yuan’s. One of the first things we saw of teenage Yuan was him grabbing one of the household bills. Yuan has been working side hustles while in school. He’s been helping pay the bills. He’s been as helpful as he possibly can be at all times, because this was a home he was given, not a home he was born in to. 

GOD DAMMIT CHRIS IS SO GOOD. ALL HE DID WAS MOVE HIS EYEBALLS LIKE…TWO CENTIMETERS AND THAT WAS ENOUGH TO KILL ME. 

Yuan is saying all the things that Qian needs to hear. Yuan can sum his life up with Qian, Qian fed him, Qian kept him warm, Qian gave him a home, Qian gave him love. Qian has seen Yuan as his responsibility since they were kids, but Yuan has wanted nothing but to be a support system for Qian. I said it before, that Yuan is the only person who continuously helps Qian to whom Qian is not beholden. Qian owes San Pang and his family, Qian owes Le and the gang, Qian owes Xiong. Qian does not owe Yuan. Qian does not see Yuan as someone that owes him. 

That small little eye motion are some gears clicking in to place in Qian’s head. That small little eye motion is Qian well and truly listening to what Yuan is saying. 

And here comes the parallel: 

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

“Did you come after me because you feel guilty, or because you care?” (this thing between us, is it because you don’t want or you don’t dare?) 

A genuine question that Yuan is using to try to push Qian in to allowing himself finally see his feelings through to the end. Qian is standing here before Yuan telling him that he does not know what his feelings for Yuan are. Even though those In The Know (Yuan and San Pang) can see the truth in Qian clear as day, Qian himself has not admitted it. 

So Yuan gives him a test.

Qian pauses for a moment, starts to shake his head, blinks. 

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

“I really don’t know,” he says 

Qian has failed the test. 

Yuan’s soft smile has a hint of sadness in it now. 

“You don’t need to know.” Yuan leans back against the wall, looking up at the sky. Qian is looking straight ahead, once again not making eye contact with Yuan “It’s always been my problem. Going home with you.”

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

The weight of what Yuan is saying hits. Qian looks at the ground. Complete opposite direction as Yuan.  

“Getting attached to you. Falling for you.” 

Qian closes his eyes and sighs, pulling his head up from where it was pointed. It’s like he can’t get used to hearing Yuan confess. Like it hits him every time Yuan says he’s in love with Qian and has been forever. 

“Wanting you all my life.” 

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

That is too much for Qian. Even with his eyes closed, even though he can’t see Yuan right now, he has to face away. 

“It was never your fault.” Yuan says, and Qian’s eyes open ever so slightly. 

And I just have to say that it is really really important to me that with all of Qian’s trauma, with everything he has suffered, with the stuff he went through with his mother, that he finally has someone tell him that it wasn’t his fault. There is naturally a lot of hesitation in changing the way you see someone you have raised, someone you have looked at and treated as a brother, and suddenly see them as someone to be romantically interested in. 

gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

So it is important to me that Yuan tells Qian he did nothing wrong. That Yuan’s feelings here are entirely his own, borne of his own mind and body, and that there is no aspect of Yuan’s feelings for him that Qian pressured him in to. That Yuan will be fine, eventually, if Qian does not reciprocate his feelings. Qian is not being forced in to anything here, and neither is Yuan. And I am so so so glad that Qian got to hear that. Twice! 

Anyway, Qian’s eyes open ever so slightly right as Yuan starts walking away, shoulder checking Qian on his way out. 

“Wait.” Qian grabs Yuan by the wrist “Wei Zhiyuan.” 

gifs by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

Yuan’s eyes are locked on to Qian’s hand around his wrist. He once again looks surprised that Qian would be brave enough to stop him from leaving. We get a shot of their hands (😈) and Yuan ever, ever so slowly raises his eyes to look at Qian.  

Qian has passed the test at the last second.

#here you go for the people who asked if I was going to write the staircase scene #got this in right under the wire before tomorrow becomes all episode 11 stuff #unknown #unknown the series #unknown the series analysis #unknown the series meta #unknown the series episode 10 #chris chiu #kurt huang #taiwanese bl #wka long post

[random-fandom1984]

Can I have some g1 soundwave x reader please😅😅😅😅😅

Being the only femme Cybertronian on the Ark can be... something. Especially when some of them try hitting on you without getting to know you; quite annoying really, but you keep it pushed down; but some people can tell because of your alt-mode.

You stayed in the Ark because of your job as a medic. Your alt-mode is a heartbeat monitor, which also corresponds with your sparkbeats, which is how some people, very few, can tell what you're feeling.

You made your own little base of operations under an abandoned amusement park. You'd bring in people who were injured and left behind in the ruckus of the battlefield between the two factions. Human or Decepticon.

Whenever it's a human, you'd ask them to promise to not tell your Autobot friends about your place of escape, and they do. But with Decepticons, you make sure that they are knocked out, and you just give them a few amounts of anesthesia because they would break in, destroy the place, kidnap you and hold you for ransom against your friends.

One day, when looking through one of the many aftermaths of a battle, you found a minicon in the rubble, Soundwave's minicon: Frenzy. When you took him back to your base, you realized you've forgotten to stock up on more anesthesia, so now you have to worry with the fact that he might wake up soon as you did the procedure of fix-and-repair.

As you were putting your tools away, he woke up with a fright, and you quickly explained the situation to him, which slightly calmed him down. Key word: Slightly. He was suspicious of you but is slowly diminished as you continued to work on the minor injuries that just need a new paint job and be buffed. The last bit disappeared in an instant when you gave him an Energon Goodie.

When he came by again, to your surprise that he remembered the way here, you gave a tour of the place above, he somehow managed to get the place up and running again; thank Primus that your location was miles away from the nearest civilization.

As time went by, Rumble found out, then Ravage, then Laserbeak. When they come to visit, it would be like as if there was no war, they're having a good time in the amusement park.

Sooner or later, Soundwave got suspicious. Where were his kids minicons going late at night?

Being the best spy he is, he followed them, and was surprised that they were hanging out with an Autobot, weren't fighting like there was a war, stopping a fight between Rumble and Frenzy as calm as possible- and somehow easily get them to make up?! He couldn't do that without them continuing to squabble with each other.

He used his telepathy powers to look into your thoughts to see if you secretly had ill intentions with his sons minicons, but there wasn't any!

When his minicons return back to base, it's an instant interrogation the moment they step foot back in the habsuite: How long has this been going on? How did this happen in the first place? What do she always do with them? The only questions that were about you were answered back with positivity.

Curious, he decided to look more into your file when the Decepticons fight the Autobots near the Ark. When he does, all he finds is all good things.

When it was the next time they decided to visit, he wanted to meet her in person. And so he did, and by Primus were you nervous. You were worried he might blow your helm up. You, Soundwave, and his minicons walked through the park, watching the minicons play games, ride the rides; he began to trust you.

The more you all hang out in private, at your secret location, the more you begin to bond closer together, mainly you and Soundwave; the minicons noticed it as clear as day.

So, being mischievous little ones they are, Rumble and Frenzy decided to stage a lil' something. In private, the minicons would call Soundwave Sire, or dad in human terms. So, when the next time you and they met up, they would unexpectedly drop Carrier, mom, at random times in the night. When they first did it, they'd put on an act like as if they didn't mean to say it and it just slip. You fell for their act, so did Soundwave because it was unexpected.

They see you? An Autobot medic? As a parental figure? I mean, sure, you heal up their injuries, you give them Energon sweets if they be good and behave, calmly deal with their fights, gives them sweet head pats, have the most caring optics he's seen, the most beautiful smile- Oh, scrap! He's in love.

He would lie awake at night, questioning why he found you attractive. For starters, your gently touch that he felt when you repaired him, your smiles seem to shine brighter than any star, and sound from your vocalizer was like a siren's call and he was the sailor that was lured by its enchanting melody, your optics the prettiest shade of blue that rivals with this hunk of rock's sky, have the spirit of a Carrier with his kids- Primus, he was hooked, lined and had sunk deep.

After he came to terms with his newfound emotions, he started noticing something about you. Every single time he was close to you, he'd see the screen of your alt-mode, on your chassis, start getting taller. One time, he danced with you as music played in the park, and he saw that the big spikes became frequent, and a subtle blush would be on your cheek plates that you try to hide with your servo and turning your helm to the side. He found this adorable, so much that he became addicted to having that cute blush on your face.

When back on the Ark, you would get pings from an unknown comm-link number, only to realize it's Soundwave, and he's sending you something. When you are finally alone in your habsuite, you would take a look to see that they were poems; they were so sweet, you reread them, laying on your berth, kicking your feet as you excitedly giggle from how nice, sweet, and adorable they are that they might as well be invitations for Cupid to continue to shoot arrows into your spark, making you fall harder for the Con.

When they spent the night in your secret base, you all had fun doing any activity that comes to mind: pillow/blanket forts, teaching the little ones the steps on how you make your glorious Energon Goodies, etc. The last activity was a horror movie marathon. Every time a jump scare would pop up on the screen, you would hug the closest bot, and it just so happened to be Soundwave. During the horror movie marathon, you, Soundwave, and his kids ended up in a cuddle pile, scared, all but Soundwave, Ravage, and Laserbeak.

They decided to spend the night here before returning to the Decepticon base at the break of dawn. You decided to put the little ones to sleep. He decided to start cleaning up the mess that was made, and when he finished, he came back to you telling the ending of an old Cybertron bedtime story.

To him, it looked so nice and peaceful, and you looked so motherly that he just wanted to confess right there, right now. What sealed the deal was you placing a goodnight kiss on the top of their helms, tucking them to sleep before leaving the room they were occupying, only to be dragged off to somewhere by Soundwave, into the place you slept in from time-to-time.

You wondered what was happening, until Soundwave got on one knee plate, servos holding your own, visor looking up into your optics, glistening as he let out a very poetic, charming, delightful, exquisite of him telling you about his feelings, everything about you that made his spark soar: your voice, your optics, your touch, everything.

He carefully watched the screen on you chassis to see if there was any indication of making you uncomfortable or not. And by the end of his heartfelt confession, he watched the heart monitor didn't make any giant spikes. Oh, no. It made a heart at the center of the monitor as blush covers your entire faceplate.

Part 2 coming soon!

#transformers #transformers g1 #transformers g1 x reader #g1 x reader #soundwave #soundwave x reader #g1 soundwave x reader #cybertronian reader #frenzy #rumble #laserbeak #ravage

[pinkcori]

I dont know if this is a touchy subject but what happened to the dsmp fangame?

Not touchy at all! (i honestly cant remember if i announced it here on tumblr)

I ended up abandoning the project (so sorry to all those that were looking forward to it!! I sort of fell out of love with what i was working on and the dsmp as a whole after techno passed (no shade to any of the creators, they're all gems). So it was a bit useless dragging it out.

My twitch chat did bring up the idea of me posting what I had done already. But it's not an idea i'm too fond of (i'd have to do extra work to make sure everyone can access everything i finished. Unfortunately i don't have time to actually do that.) Also I don't want an unfinished game out on the internet with my name if that makes sense.

(also also i've kept the youtube videos/streams I spent making of this up. I'm still proud of what i've created and still wanna be able to look back on it all.)

#SORRY THIS WAS SO LONG #literally just me rambling #and trying to answer any follow up questions people might have

[iguessitsjustme]

work rant feel free to ignore i just need to get this out of my brain before i esplode:

My job not having any social media presence actually drives me insane...I'm going to try to rant without giving away where I work but my god. I work for an extremely well known (at least in the USA) organization and there's a lot of misinformation flying around out there and we do have a website, but just a website. That no one goes to or looks at unless they call and we direct them to exactly what they're looking for because they ask if we have it written down anywhere.

And I think it's incredibly...obtuse...to not have any presence at all. I'm not saying we need to have an extremely loud and huge presence. But even just like an official reddit or an official tiktok (we do have a twitter kind of but it is never used and I honest to god don't think anyone has access to it anymore) and even if those pages just have the most basic information on it, I think that would help. Just like "here's a link to our website. Here's our phone number. Here's which department handles what if you want to be asked for that specific department." I spend so much of my day on the phone with people that have questions that are so easily answered by just going on our website but no one does. Also don't even get me started on what they did to the website it looks like it got hacked now but it didn't.

This is a strange work rant for a Sunday night but I find myself annoyed. My coworkers and I send each other reddit posts of people misunderstanding things. I mean, they are willfully misunderstanding things they were previously informed of. In writing. But if we really want to make it better and more accessible for people, I think having the information presented in multiple ways would be best. Especially when we're dealing with children. These kids are on reddit and on tiktok and on twitter and they have questions and they are more likely going to go searching in those places to find information. And there are people that claim themselves as experts on all of those platforms but none of them work for or have previously worked for my organization. So they don't know. So these kids are getting incorrect information and then I get angry parents and children on the phone because they listened to the wrong person or organization and I'm standing by our policy and our rules and they don't like that.

Also sometimes they aren't angry on the phone because they were misinformed about something saying that they can't do this this or that and it turns out they can. And if they hadn't called they would have entirely missed the opportunity because they're going to the wrong sources because we, as an organization, refuse to be the source on a different platform other than our own.

And I get it. They don't want to hire someone to be the social media person because we are small and don't have the budget for that. But it's 2024. There are many people. Many staff. That have a lot of downtime (not my department unless it's the summer) and this could be the perfect task to give them. Even if it's just coming up with ideas to present. Not even necessarily filming anything. And videos don't need to show anyone's face or voice. We could literally do the most basic shit and it would be beneficial. It would count down on the number of calls we get and my coworkers and I would have time to do our jobs instead of spending half our time on the phone (do not ask how behind we are because it is sad).

There's something else I want to say about a different organization that I think this would help with but I cannot say without giving away where I work and also I can't bitch about our partner without causing problems. But if you live in the USA, you know about our partner, and I guarantee you hate them. But not as much as me. Never as much as me.

#rae irl #rae at work #don't ask where i work #if you figure out where i work no you didn't #but if you figure out where i work and you are specifically a certain age and have questions you can dm me #and i will be happy to answer as best i can but also i doubt that's the case for any of my followers #i think my corner of tumblr is too old for that #this was brought on by me looking up where i work on tiktok and seeing one tiktok in particular #that was so incredibly wrong that my eye started twitching #luckily it only had 1 like and 0 comments but how badly i wanted to say something #like “this is factually inaccurate just look at the website” #skjkgjdhlkfjhglkjdfh i'm fine i'm fine not bitter at all #this is also coming off the heels of multiple of my coworkers getting yelled at on the phones last week #not me because i think people just hear how tired i sound and don't try it #but two of my young coworkers got yelled at because parents didn't like the answers they were told #which isn't really related but i think just having something anything outside of our organizational websites might be beneficial #and yes i did ask once and they said we're gonna step away from that landmine and i haven't brought it up since #i just think it's dumb #also apparently we didn't get internet until like the 2010s so we are so far behind the curve i don't even know

[cherryredstars]

Not sure if I’m doing this right since I’m new to tumbler :D but hi love ur writing followed you in an instant!

I was wondering if you could write something for a very low self esteem, inexperienced reader who goes to uni so is like 21 or something and is Miguel’s neighbor. They live in this building and their other neighbor is a rude lady who complains at the slightest Noise basically. she doesn’t dare bother Miguel but is always bothering the reader since reader can’t tell her to f off. Reader is just such sweet chubby lil cinnamon roll :(

Idk if I should have been less descriptive or more TvT; ?

Anyway hope you’re doing great :D don’t forget to hydrate ♥️

1K Prompts

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Age Gap, Sexual Touching (With Clothes on), Slight Fluff

Summary: He helps you, you help him.

A/N: This is perfect, don’t worry, love!!!

Word Count: 2.4K (Not Edited)

This is most definitely going to leave you a crying wreck in your bathroom later.

Your nerves were already on high alert with finally becoming independent and moving out of the college dorms, that pesky exam and assignment you procrastinated on working on, and your job has been firing and hiring people left and right. The last thing you needed was your cranky old neighbor, (it is crazy to think that you once thought she was going to be a kind old woman who would give you cookies when she was lonely), to come banging on your door with a  list of complaints and reasons why she could get you evicted. You do not know what to do, never being in this type of situation before. Honestly, you do not even know about half the things this woman is accusing you of. 

You can only stand there, hand tightly holding the door open as you try not to cry from stress. In your head, you are counting in an effort to make sure your breaths are coming out evenly. The last thing you want is to have a panic attack and have your neighbor add the threat of a mental hospital to the list. You nod along weakly to what she says, letting out whispered apologies that only seem to make her angrier. 

“You useless teenagers and your need to ruin good things, don’t think I forgot when you tr-”

“Is there a problem here?”

His voice is deep and smooth, causing the both of you to jolt. You visibly relax when you turn your head to find Miguel standing outside his apartment door. He has just gotten back from work and running errands, his lab coat draped over his arm as he holds paper bags in his arms. His hair is slightly tousled from the autumn breeze, and a few strands of his black hair are scattered with grey. His sweater hugs his arms and torso in a way that is mouthwatering, and you quickly look away when his eyes meet yours.

Miguel is the only neighbor you really know. He had helped you the first time you moved in, hearing the way you struggled to bring some things up to your apartment. He offered to help, carrying in boxes faster than you could into your apartment. When you had gotten furniture, he was happy to come over and assemble it for you. He is so kind to you, offering to help with a leaking pipe or to answer any of your questions about how to do something. You might have grown a slight crush on your neighbor, something that slightly freaked you out when you realized because of the obvious age gap the two of you have. You have not even finished college yet and he is in his mid-thirties working in a big corporate lab. 

Miguel clears his throat and you look back at him. He stares at you expectantly, totally ignoring the stuttering woman who tries to answer his question. He is only ever interested in what you have to say. You flush under his intent gaze, quickly shaking your head. You do not want to cause more problems, and you definitely do not want to have your cranky neighbor form a bigger vendetta against you. 

Miguel’s eyebrow raises, definitely catching the anxious expression on your face. He hums dismissively after a minute, eyes lazily trailing back to the older woman. His nose scrunches up slightly at the sight of her and he looks away again as the woman stops trying to defend herself. Miguel shrugs, the paper bags rustling with their contents. He turns to face you, once again ignoring the older woman. 

“Then you wouldn’t mind helping me put away my groceries, right? Can’t get my keys with my hands full,” Miguel speaks in a lazy drawl. 

You are quick to nod your head in agreement, stepping out of your doorway and closing the door. The woman steps back, a displeased look on her face as she watches you walk over to Miguel. Miguel keeps his eyes trained on you, watching everything you do. You are shy when you smile up at him. With your back turned towards the old woman, you mouth a ‘thank you’ to him. His eyes instantly snap to your lips, intently studying your exaggerated words. His eyes seem to darken for a second before he blinks and it is gone. His eyes trail back up to your eyes and he tilts his head slightly down. 

“Keys are in my pants pocket.”

You quickly nod, whispering out an ‘okay’. Your face burns as you have to get closer to him to not knock into his arms. The angle is slightly awkward, your hands slip into his pants pocket and your face burns from having your hand so close to his…thing. As you try to find his keys, Miguel looks down at you with a heated look. He watches silently for a few minutes before looking back up and over your shoulder to the older woman. His face is masked in indifference, maintaining eye contact with her until she fidgets and turns away without saying a word. 

At the same time she walks into her own apartment, you make a sound of victory as you finally retrieve his keys. You dangle them in his face with a proud smile, and he gives you an amused smirk. He steps away from his apartment door, giving you room to step in front of him and unlock his door. As you insert the key, you feel Miguel press up against your back. His warmth seeps into your spine and you are quick to bite your tongue so you do not let out a squeal.  

His breath tickles your neck and ear, warm and slightly minty. “What did I tell you about standing up for yourself, hmm cariño?”

The question rumbles with his voice and you have to hold your breath in order to not make an embarrassing sound. You turn to look at him over your shoulder and instantly regret it. He has not moved his face yet, and you are a breath away from him. If you leaned forward the slightest bit, your noses would be touching. You gulp nervously, and Miguel’s eyes trail down to your lips once again. He lets out a deep hum as you lick them nervously. 

“I- she’s not that mean to me.” You whisper out in the older woman’s defense. You cannot help the way your lashes flutter as you try to meet his eyes. 

Miguel scoffs at your defense, finally backing away from you. He shifts his hold on the bags, freeing his hand to turn the doorknob. Your hand is still there, and your breath hitches when his large hand encompasses yours. His hand moves both yours and the doorknob, making a combined effort to open the door. You are still watching him from over your shoulder, mouth slightly opened in awe. Miguel looks down at you, something playful in his eyes as he tilts his head to the side. 

“You’re blocking the doorway, cariño. The ice cream I got you is going to melt.”

Your blush returns from the pet name and you stutter out an apology as you rush inside his apartment. It’s warm, and you’re hit with the smell of him. You find the light switch and turn on the lights, flooding the whole place with a warm glow. Miguel follows you into the kitchen, placing the paper bags on the dining room table. He rummages through them, glaring at you when you try to grab one to start helping. His hands connect with something cold, and he pulls out a personal pint of ice cream. He hands it over to you and you turn it around to see the label. Your eyes instantly light up when you read the brand and flavor. Last week you had ranted to Miguel about how the grocery store did not have your favorite ice cream in stock as he was fixing a problem with your internet. The whole time he just hummed along, you did not actually think he was listening. 

He smiles softly at you as you beam up at him. He turns back to the groceries, sighing when he sees your hand reaching for the bags again. He turns to you with a bored expression. He gently removes your hands from the bag, telling you to go eat your ice cream before it melts. You grumble playfully under your breath, complaining about how you were supposed to be helping. He chuckles as he follows after you, getting a spoon out for you. 

“I thought the whole point was that I was supposed to help you put the groceries away, not eat them.” 

Your complaining is cut off by a yelp when Miguel grabs your waist. He lifts you up, putting you on top of the counter. Your eyes are wide as you look at him and his head nuzzles into the crook of your neck. You squirm slightly from his proximity. 

“You can help me by sitting prettily and keeping me company. Tell me about your day.” 

He pulls away then, returning to the dining room table and carrying a bag to the counter next to you. Your eyes are still bashful as you watch him, quietly opening your ice cream and beginning to eat it. Miguel starts to pull contents from the bag and looks over at you expectantly. Hesitantly, you begin to go through your day, easing into it the more you talk. You speak between bites of ice cream, half paying attention to Miguel as he walks around the kitchen to place things in their proper places. Occasionally, he looks over at you as you speak, his eyes trained on the way you place the spoon in your mouth and lick at the delicious treat. 

You are almost done when he puts the last thing away. He walks over to you as you continue talking absentmindedly, just finished slipping the spoon out of your mouth again. You stop talking when Miguel’s eyes drop to your mouth, his thumb coming up the swipe at your lower lip. When he pulls it away, a bit of melted ice cream is stuck to his skin. His eyes meet yours again when he brings it to his mouth, licking it away. He hums in appreciation for the taste. 

Your mouth drops open with a gasp as you watch, eyes trained on the pink muscle. You watch as his lips form a sly smile, and you blush as you look back into his eyes. But his eyes are still trained on your parted mouth, eyes dilated and hungry. He leans forward slightly, hand returning to rub at your bottom lip before he replaces it with his lips. He is not kissing you exactly, only sucking on your lip until it is swollen and red. He gives it a small nip before he pulls away, his hands falling to rub your thighs. It causes a small whimper to escape your mouth and Miguel basks in the noise. 

His hand seeps closer and closer to the area between your thighs, grabbing the carton of ice cream and moving it to the side. His hands hastily return to the area between your thighs, fingers brushing against your center. Your breath hitches and you look down to where his hands are. Your attention is snapped away when his gravelly voice meets your ears. 

“Continue with the story, querida. You don’t sound like you finished.”

You stutter over your words, the topic of conversation blanking from your mind. Miguel chuckles knowingly, his fingers continuing to brush up and down until they land on your clothed bud. He presses into it hard enough so you can feel it through the fabric of your pants and panties, gently reminding you where you left off. You nod nervously, hands snapping up to meet his shoulders as you feel wetness rushing into your panties. You stutter and choke on your words, eyes shutting as you rotate your hips sloppily into his hand. The movement is jerky, and you feel slightly embarrassed at how painfully obvious it is that no one has ever touched you like this before. But Miguel seems to like it, likes the idea that you’re untouched and he is the only person who has seen you like this. 

It gets even better when you make those soft noises, cutting yourself off and having to be reminded about what you were saying. Miguel continues his hand movements, pressing into you and rubbing and stroking. Your wetness has seeped through your panties, dampening the material of your leggings. If you were not lost in how good it feels, you would have been grossed out and uncomfortable. A weak call of his name escapes you and Miguel looks up from your cunt to look at your face. He hums in acknowledgement, watching as you try to pull his face closer to yours in a kiss. 

He swiftly avoids it, and you would have curled into yourself at the blunt rejection if you did not become distracted by his mouth suck and licking along your neck and jaw. Your mouth falls open with a moan, head leaning back to give him more room. He groans against your skin, fingers pressing tight circles to your clit. With a few hard circles, your back arches and your hold on him tightens. Gasping moans leave you and you feel the band in you snap, releasing more wetness into your panties as you finish. Miguel pulls his head away from your neck, keeping his fingers to your bud as you ride out the orgasm. Once you slump back down, he pulls his hands away. As you catch your breath, Miguel cleans up the mess on the counter. He reaches over, closing your melted ice cream and putting the spoon in the sink. 

You are still in a daze when he pushes the warm container in your hands, his own hands gentle as he lifts you off the counter. Your eyes are glossy in after-lust as he gently guides you out of his apartment and into yours. His warm hand leaves the small of your back, massaging your sides before he whispers a thank you into your ear for your help. You are only pulled completely out of your daze when you hear your door lock and close as Miguel leaves. You turn to look at the door, cheeks blazing as you clutch tightly onto your ice cream.

You are totally getting a noise complaint for that old woman tomorrow.

Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4

Join the Taglist

#cherry's requests🍒 #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara x you #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara smut #miguel x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #miguel atsv #miguel o hara #miguel x you #spider man 2099 #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #miguel ohara x reader #cherry's specials!🍒

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Werewolf Headcanons

I've been stalked by the guilty feeling that my Romanian Werewolf boy got a lot of backstory but not much romance or interaction. So there you have it: some headcanons featuring the ancient Beast, a post-kidnapping sequel.

Content: female reader, obsessive behavior, monster romance, mild NSFW at the end, ridiculously older yandere

You followed the gargantuan stranger back into the city, leaving the bloodbath behind as if it was just a distant dream. Admittedly, you’d expected to be dragged into some mountainous cave or an abandoned mansion, not the cozy - albeit a little dusty - apartment on a main, historical street. On second thought, he did function as a human outside of his monstrous escapades, so it made sense. “Is this your place?”, you sheepishly asked while he wiped the thick layers of blood off him. “One of them, yes”, he answered curtly. “It’s central”, you remarked, trying to make conversation. “Well, I didn’t know about it back then. It’s been a few decades.”

Your ears perked up at the words. Gazing at his features, he didn’t seem necessarily aged to you. The deep creases contouring his face felt more like a sign that he’s lived sorrows beyond most people’s comprehension. “How old are you?” You finally asked as curiosity replaced your initial fear. He abruptly stopped his movements and leaned back, brows furrowed in deep contemplation. “I’m not so sure anymore. I was born in the 80s”, he concluded. “That’s not too far back, is it?” You inquired, this time more relaxed. “80 BC, I meant. You do the math.”

He freshened himself up as you counted the millennia on your fingers, frowning in confusion. He chuckled at your intense focus, then quickly looked up into the mirror. When was the last time he smiled like this? The reflection was a foreign sight to him. “We’ll get you everything you need tomorrow”, he continued, still in a daze. What a strange idea, having someone to speak to after an eternity. And suddenly, it occurred to him just how rusted his communication had gotten: “I’m so sorry, I haven’t asked for your name once”, he said, embarrassed. “It’s (Y/N). And you are...?" Might as well introduce yourself to your benevolent captor.

The dreaded question. How did they call him back in the day? He hasn't had anyone spell it out for him, nor did he feel the need at any point to say it himself. Why would he? He hadn't anticipated meeting you. With pursed lips, he searched his mind. Eventually, from the depths or memories, from days of yore, it made its way back: "Daos."

Given your first gory encounter (where he quite literally murdered everyone else), you were surprised to find out he's otherwise a calm and polite individual. Well, he's had centuries to mature, you suppose. You've also noticed he has that rather old-fashioned chivalry to him. He's very attentive despite his stoic demeanor, and often follows with acts of service.

"You're insulting me. I can carry this myself with ease", you'll argue. "I never doubted you can. Nonetheless, it is my wish to do it for you."

As the days pass, your reluctance seems to vanish as well. In fact, you've become particularly cheeky, encouraged by his warm, unperturbed behavior. Maybe you haven't gotten the worst deal out there, after all.

"You know, you talk like an old man", you've teased him once. He was visibly taken aback by your statement, and you could discern a faint blush on his face. "Do I? My apologies, I haven't spoken to anyone in a long time. I'm not familiar with modern speech. Have I embarrassed you somehow?"

He spends his free time reading, though he will frequently take you on walks. It's an interesting affair to say the least. You can feel the curious eyes of the passersby and hear their not-so-discreet whispered gossip. You can't truly blame them: Daos is enormous even as a human. He towers above everyone else with his imposing appearance. To match, his voice is deep and coarse as a result of not using it much until recently.

The ancient werewolf is a living history book. If asked, he will narrate to you important events or details you might be curious about regarding his culture. Once, when he'd been in a good mood, he even shared fragments of his life before turning into a creature. He'd been a high-ranked Dacian warrior, spending his days training or fighting. He still remembers the flag he carried with bitter fondness, yet another irony to his fate: a wolf-headed serpent. It was meant to showcase their way of life; barbarians with no fear of death. They'd greeted the Roman Empire with nothing but a sword and a shield, no shred of doubt.

He might've been betrayed by his people, but the pride remains. The pride of a soldier who's never known defeat. You learned quickly that his beastly form doesn't count as a significant change by any means, save for appearances. The man has brute strength even as a human. You'd once strayed from his view, and a stranger approached with a daring whistle, gawking you up and down. Before you could react, Daos clawed him by the throat. You heard the twist of the skin and the creak of the bones giving in to the immense pressure of his large hand.

"It's the second time I have exposed you to such unpleasant sights", he said, discarding the body as if it was any other garbage. "Forgive me, but I will not have you disrespected like this."

He is very much aware he's taken you away from the world out of his own selfish desire. The fact that you accepted it is more than he could ever ask for. That's what he keeps telling himself, even as his eyes wander to your lips whenever you speak. Or as his hand lingers a moment too long against the curve of your back. Or as he hungrily takes in your scent whenever you're nearby.

He might be unhealthily possessive of you, but Daos will never do anything against your will. No matter how obvious his urges are. In fact, no amount of flirting or teasing will shake his resolve. You will have to be very direct with your approval.

Once the reality settles in, he'll become extremely affectionate, bordering on obsessive. To think he could have you in every way possible. Oh, he's waited thousands of years for you. All the suffering, the loneliness, the anger, they're stripped of any meaning now that he has you.

The city strolls at an awkward distance have since become a habitual excuse to hold your hand and show you off to the mortals. The quiet evenings of passing time with a book now include your merely noticeable weight cuddled into his lap. You didn't expect him to be this adoring. Being touch-starved for millennia counts as one reason, naturally, but there's more to it, so much more. And it all leads back to you.

He is a little taken aback when you ask him to do the deed in his werewolf form. "Don't be foolish. I can't overcome my instincts as well when I'm a creature. I could harm you", he'll lecture you. "Besides, you can barely take it as it currently is", he'll add, smirking at your baffled expression. It seems he's picked up on your cheekiness.

After a lot of pleading and waiting for the right moment - when he's ravaging you in a daze - he finally agrees. True to his word, his tune instantly changes. The tender hold turns into a desperate grasp sinking into your skin, and the thrusts become irregular, almost frantic. His drool cools your burning cheeks as you hold onto the coarse fur, feverish and overwhelmed.

His golden eyes rest on the small human squirming underneath him, and suddenly, he can't help but notice: you have the perfect birthing hips.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #yandere werewolf #werewolf x reader #monster x reader #monster x human #monster romance #yandere headcanons #male yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere smut #monster smut #monster boyfriend

[crimson-rain-smoked-flower]

I’m not trying to attack you, but do you know that proshipper means someone who supports and romanticizes pedophilia, incest, and abuse? Your reblog on that post seems to read that you think antis just hate on people for having ships they don’t like. But it’s completely different than that. Just looking on the proshipper side of Tumblr and the internet and you can see people happily shipping children and adults and making nsfw content of such things.

i appreciate that you're not being outright hostile, but i have to say, that on its own put you above basically every anti i've interacted with.

i understand where antis are coming from, i really do. there are a lot of things on the internet that make me deeply uncomfortable, including the minor/adult ships that you mention. i don't want to anything to do with those kinds of ships and i would be happiest if i never saw them again. which is why i'm proship.

nine times out of ten, if i see that kind of ship brought up on my dash, it's because i was following an anti without realizing it, and they brought it up unprompted and untagged, to talk about how bad it is that they exist. they are the ones putting that kind of content in front of my face and making it harder to avoid.

the thing about people who ship those ships is that they're generally very aware that not everyone wants to see that kind of content, and so they tag it. they make sideblogs to talk about it. they don't go out of their way to shove it in people's faces. that means i, and everyone else who doesn't like it, can avoid it.

what antis want is for it to not exist at all. they want the tags to be purged and blocked, and for anyone who uses those tags to have their accounts deleted. and sure, that might get rid of some of it, but do you know what would happen to the rest? it would stop being tagged. people who don't want to see it wouldn't have the tools to avoid it. this isn't just a hypothetical, that's what's happened any time a fan space has tried to do that.

that's not even getting into the rabbit hole of what should be banned and what shouldn't. obviously any content that depicts real children or real life abuse shouldn't exist and shouldn't be allowed to be posted, but basically any platform that people use already enforces those policies, and there's not much of a slippery slope to go down there. if it involves real living breathing people being abused, it's bad. end of discussion.

but the same can't be said for fiction. ask ten antis for a specific list of all the content that should be banned, and you'll get ten different answers. what about kink? what about roleplay? what about horror and murder and anything that involves fictional characters being graphically tortured? what about people using art to process terrible things that have happened to them? what about art that uses dark themes as a horror element? if you just want to ban anything questionable to anyone, that's the line of thinking that gets any mention of lgbt existence banned. and again, this isn't just a hypothetical, this has happened before, and that's generally where it leads.

i know, from personal experience, that antis do, in fact, send harassment to people just for shipping things they don't like. i've gotten accused of absolutely vile shit for shipping two fictional characters who were both consenting adults. i've seen ship wars turn into moral battlegrounds, over ships that an average person wouldn't bat an eye at.

the thing about "romanticization" is a whole other can of worms. the anti logic goes like this: if someone sees something (even if it's very obviously fictional) in a positive light enough times, they will start thinking it's okay in real life, and go on to hurt real people. the problem with that is that it's just. blatantly untrue.

if it were true every horror movie fan would be a serial killer, every person that studies dark media would be an unhinged psychopath, and everyone who is into ddlg would be a pedophile. but they're not. they just aren't. people have directed movies just as fucked up as the darkest shit on ao3, and are still capable of being normal human beings who know right from wrong in real life.

even if someone is that impressionable, scrubbing away the existence of every piece of questionable content isn't going to solve their problem, because they're still going to be vulnerable to con men, scams, and cultists. the only thing that would actually materially help someone like that is developing their own morals and critical thinking.

children are also more impressionable, and there's a lot of content that's not suitable for them, but that doesn't mean that content shouldn't exist. it just means that they should stick to spaces designed for them (which most social media sites, tumblr included, are not) or, if they're old enough to be responsible for their experience online, they, or a trusted adult in their lives, should block and filter out things that they aren't comfortable with.

which is what everyone on the internet should be doing. it's what i do, and it's made the internet a much more pleasant place to be. and it's why i sometimes worry for antis mental health, especially teenagers, because they're being told it's right and moral to seek out content that makes them uncomfortable and to engage with the people making it. and that's just. really bad. it's not good for the creators that they're harassing obviously, but it's also really bad for them! it's not healthy to seek out things that make you feel bad, and it's a terrible internet safety lesson to teach minors that it's okay for them to seek out and engage with people making adult content.

individual harassment and crusading is never going to succeed at removing dark content from the internet. it just isn't. at best you might get a small percentage of people who create that content to stop sharing it, at worst you're just going to make people stop tagging it, and either way, you're exposing yourself to things that make you feel bad, when you don't have to.

if you want to materially change the type of content you see, you can. the block button is your friend, use it liberally. same with content filtering and tag blocking.

#oops this got really long #cd.ask #proship #disk horse #tw pedophila mention #uhhh what to tag #tw shipping discourse #this doesn't even get into the antis that i've seen proudly professing that they care more about fictional characters than real people #because i don't know how to explain to someone that real humans matter more than cartoon characters #or how to avoid content on platforms other than tumblr bc frankly thats a lot of the reason i don't use them #i don't trust an algorithm #also im turning anon off after posting this so if you want to send me hate you cant be a coward about it #also be prepared to get blocked and ignored #the only reason i answered this person is bc they weren't being hostile

[winterarmyy]

Kiss It Better

A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of. 

Summary: In which the reader refused to let Bucky go down on her lately because she's embarrassed of the chafing marks on her inner thighs.

Pairing: avenger!bucky x female!reader

Words: 3.2k++

Warnings: 18+ contents, no minors allowed, nsfw, cunnilingus, cum eating, soft fluff, not much of angst but there's sprinkles of feels, body insecurities, bucky is in love and in heat tbh, i think he is particularly unhinged and filthy in this one but hey, you tell me. idk if i need to remind y'all about this but english is not my first language so my grammar are prolly fucked. Anyway--

Inspiration: Guess who felt a little soft and decided to wear a skirt to work? Yup, that would be me. No, because I commute to work (or basically anywhere) and there is quite a distance of walking in between the journey. Note that your girl here walk fast asf (basically running at this point).  And because them inner thighs ain't got no gap between them, so i got myself some blisters/chafing :') then i fell into a self-deprecating despair for the whole day and it hurts whenever i walk, at that time i just want Bucky to kiss it better. Fast forward a few days later, here we are.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

She could feel it. His burning gaze following her every move. Observing, calculating. And she knew that must not show any signs of discomfort; not on her face nor from the slightest jolts of her hips. She must not gave him a reason to question her.

She can't.

So she continue walking around their room, back and forth from the bathroom to the wardrobe, as if every step she took was followed by a burning sensation on her skin. She momentarily stood in front of the row of clothes hanging on the rack, her back facing the bed where Bucky had been sprawling on since she went in for a shower.

Honestly, she was standing there suspiciously 'too long', as if she was choosing an outfit for a date night, when clearly she was just getting ready for bed. When she realized that, she quickly pulled out a clean set of pyjamas and walk back into the bathroom.

Bucky's eagle eyes followed her figure, disappearing behind the locked door. His lips pursed as his cogs of thoughts spins around, trying to find answer a question that his lover keeps avoiding but it was useless.

He can't think straight. Especially when he was undeniably famished. He had not got a taste of her his sweet pussy for about 2 weeks now and he was quite literally about lose his fucking mind. 

When his sweetgirl refuses to go further than kissing and making out, of course he obliged. She has every right to 'no' and he respects her wishes. Then it happened again the next day. And the next. Then again, and again. 

Normally, people would've assumed that maybe she was on her period, and she is not comfortable having any sexual intimacy when menstruating. But, Bucky can tell that, that was not it. Because first of all, it was way too early for that time of the month, he knows her schedule.l very well. Second of all, he would've smell the blood if she was on her period.

Most of his senses are enhanced after all.

So, why was she avoiding it?

Bucky's is completely fine if sex was not something she wanted to do, but not even letting him eat her out? Now that's concerning. At least for him.

Because he needs her. He needs to suck on that needy little clit of hers, make it wet and swollen. He needs to lap on that sweet juices when she cums on his tongue.

Fuck. He's getting all work up now, thinking about it.

He swore that if this keeps going on, one of these days he might just spread his legs and fuck his fist on their bed while she's tied on a chair on the other side of the room. Maybe forcing her; seducing her, to watch his desperate cock become wet and messy would give her a clue of what he is feeling now.

Absolutely needy and deprived of that pretty little cunt of hers.

He was quite distracted with the filfthy thoughts until he heard the clicking sound of the bathroom door unlocked.

As she walked towards the bed, Bucky felt like his lungs stopped providing oxygen through his body, "Pretty." His eyes sparkled affection as the voice in his head echoed his thoughts. It wasn't that he have not seen her in those pyjamas before, he had. Many times in fact. The very same lavender set with tiny little cartoon cats printed all over the fabric.

The same ones that she wore when she came rushing to his side on one of those sleepless night. The time when she hold him close, distracting him away from the nightmare by asking the most random question of "You know, Bucky... These cats supposedly have the same expression, except for one. Do want to try and find it?"

He found it. It was near the hem of her right sleeve. And by that time, his nightmare was no where near his mind, the next thing he knew, he fell right back to sleep with her in his arms. It was his favourite pair of pyjamas that she ever worn.  Nothing compares.

A loving smile unconsciously appeared on his face when his lady threw a sweet smile at him as she walked toward the bed, "My baby's so pretty." He thought.

The grin on his lips lasted, but not for long. Especially when he saw the tiny frown on her face, the faltered steps and when he heard that brief sound of a painful hiss slipped out of her lips.

So the moment she sat down on her side of the bed, Bucky already had his hands on her. Arms instantaneously wrapped around her waist, before effortlessly pulling her back onto his sturdy chest.

She giggled gleefully from his sudden rush of affection  and that surely managed to trigger a chuckle out of Bucky. He hums and proceed to purr in crook of her neck, "What's wrong, baby?"

She could feel his throat rumbling at the back of her neck, "Did he notice it?". Her heart beat ever so slightly picked up its' pace but she planned to act like opposite of it, "Hmm? What do mean 'what's wrong'?" She asked.

Bucky can hear the change tempo coming from within her ribcage, he knew something was wrong, "I just want to know how are you feeling."  He pressed a long and tender kiss on the shoulder.

The warmth of his breath tickled her skin, "Now? Hmm. I feel very loved." She smiled dreamily as she closes her eyes.

Bucky left out a brief laugh at her response, this cheeky little bunny, "That's true, but how are you really feeling, hmm? Like physically?" He urges softly.

She thought about it for awhile; contemplating whether she should just tell him the truth or proceed to act like she okay. Well, she chose the latter, "Hmmm physically. In this position? Very comfy." She wiggled her body back into him, closing the non-existent gap between their bodies and gripping Bucky's arms around her a little tight.

Though her plushy ass was rubbing against his crotch just nicely, but the former winter soldier was not going to let that distract him from his mission. He needs to know what she's hiding behind that sweet smile, "Doll..." his voice was stern and she knew he was not having it.

His calling was only met with silence when she didn't reply verbally. Since she was looking down, Bucky cannot see the frown on face and the wobbling worries in her eyes. But he did picked up on the anxiousness of her heart; beating faster by the second.

"I..." her voice cracked at the first word she said, and Bucky knew he fucked up. He swiftly maneuvered her body to sit on his lap, facing him. His metal hand craddled her soft cheek, and his flesh ones gently caresses her back, "Hey hey hey, doll, what's wrong? Shit. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pressure you." His voice was laced with panic.

When she only had her gaze down, Bucky tenderly coaxed her, "Bunny, look at me." His hand guided her by the chin and when they made eye contact, he apologized again, "I'm sorry. I just want you to feel better. Forgive me." He leaned in a planted a kiss on her forehead. Then, her nose. And her cheeks, all over her face, muttering his words of apology.

She felt bad that Bucky apologized for something that was clearly not his fault. She's the problem in this situation. Her negativity, her insecurity was what drove her away from Bucky for the past 2 weeks. She knew that. And she knew it wasn't fair to him.

Knowing Bucky, he's probably blaming himself for her actions. And she didn't want that. She decided to tell him the truth, "I just..." Anxiety runs through her veins when she thought about it again. Would she be able to handle it if Bucky reacted negatively to her truth? Probably, not. "Just... promise that you won't be disgusted by it... Or get the ick from it."

Bucky frowned in confusion, "I don't even know what 'get the ick' means but I promise." He swore.

She let out a short laugh at his comment, causing him to smile along. Seeing how loving his gaze was, it gave her the strength to confess. She started with explaining how she had been busy at work this month. With launch of the new product, and her being one of th product manager, she was obligated to visit the branches around New York.

Bucky listened to words attentively, at first he thought maybe she was trying to say that she's been stressed lately. But then she started to explained about how she had been wearing skirts to work most of the days, because it was one of the their campaign's rules and Bucky does not think that 'stress' was what this would conclude to.

Nevertheless, he didn't lose his attention.

"But basically what I'm trying to say is..." She took a deep breath before continuing, "It's just... My inner thighs are chafed..." her voice was barely audible at the end of the sentence but Bucky caught it perfectly.

He thought about it for awhile before asking, "So, you mean to say that you got blisters on your inner thighs?" He wanted to confirm that his understanding was accurate.

She looked down in shame as she nodded to his question.

Bucky responded by pulling her closer, and kissed her forehead, "Aww doll. Is this why you've been avoiding me? Because it hurts? Why didn't you tell me earlier? I could've helped you. I mean I could help apply some meds or--"

Horrified at the idea of him seeing marks; the literal reminder of how fat she is caused her to blurt, "No!" She pushed Bucky away, eyes widen in horrid.

"No?" Bucky frowned quizzically at her intense reaction.

Realizing what she just had just done,  she composed herself, and spoke, "It's... it's not a pretty sight. And I don't want to show it to you. Plus, if my thighs are a little thinner than they are now. Then, this wouldn't happen. If only these thighs are not like... fucking fat as they are we wouldn't have to go through this. And you wouldn't need to hear all this. You wouldn't---"

Bucky knew that once she was in the state of insecurity, she self-deprecate herself like she was less worthy than the goddesss that she is. So, instead of arguing with her, he simply intercepted her rambling, "Show me."

She stopped the seemingly endless word-vomit, and titled her head to the side, "Huh? No. Bucky I just said--"

Bucky grabbed her by the waist and effortlessly lifted her off his lap and onto the bed, caging her  below him, "And I said... Show. Me." His tone was more like an order rather than a request.

She didn't dare to defy him, when his gaze was as rigid as they were now, so pulled her pants off; slowly, reluctantly. When the pants was at the last inches before it's completely off, Bucky took control and quite literally ripped it off from her.

The sudden action resulted to her body needing to hide itself from his darken eyes. Her thighs clammed together as a whine slipped from her lips. The friction of her wounds brushing against each other was burning her delicate skin.

Bucky quickly softens when he heard her pained voice,  he pushed himself off from her and kneeled on the bed before her. "Doll, please..." His hands gently squeezes the side of her thighs as he pleads, "...Let me see."

Slowly spreading her thighs apart, Bucky's eyes are now focusing on the red marks on her skin. His thumbs absentmindedly traces the area around the broken skin. He was so concentrated that he didn't say a word. And that only triggered her insecurity that she started to rambled something about how she will start going in a diet and she'll add more intense leg workout in her routine.

But her voice was only a muffled strings of incoherent sounds in Bucky's ears when he finally processed everything that happened from 2 weeks ago until now.

The realization hit him like a high speed train with a broken break system. Did she really turned him down because of this? Did she really starve him out because of this? Bucky let out a growl of disapproval when he abruptly pulled her by her calves, forcing her hips to lift from the bed. She yelped in surprised but she saw the look on his face,  "You..." he rasped.

Bucky placed her legs on his shoulders, letting it daggle on his back as he palmed sides of her thighs. He then, proceed to leave trails of kiss on her inner thigh, avoiding the irritating wounds on her skin, "You deprived me of my sweet little pussy because you think this..." he flattened his tongue and nibble on her softness of her inner thighs, "...would turn me off? That these thick, soft thighs that I love so much would bother me?"

He planted a delicate kiss on the marks before, "Well, guess what bunny?. You're absolute wrong. In fact, it's quite the opposite." His lips travelled upwards until it found her core. Bucky's nose flared at the scent of her arousal, "And oh my sweet babydoll, I'm going to eat your pussy until understand that. Then, I'm gonna do it some more because I am fucking starving." He pressed a firm kiss on her clothed pussy, causing the cotton to soak the juices that leaks from her hole.

"Look at that. Does your needy pussy wants some pampering too, hmm?" She could see the lust dripping down his ocean blues; the same ones that were usually bright but now were now noticeably darker.

Bucky's finger traces the slit of her pussy, rubbing her over the fabric of her panties, making patch of wetness spread even more. "Yeah? Does she want me to kiss it better? Make her feel good?"

She moaned softly to his touch, "Please."

That was all it took for Bucky to rip her panties apart as if it was made out of paper.  "Fuck, there she is. My sweet pussy." He brought his fingers over, widened the folds of her pussy. Even with minimal lighting, it was enough to show him the glistening pink flesh of leaking cunt, twitching and needing his tongue to explore her insides.

He was hungry of course, just simply looking at her pussy had made his mouth water and impossible for him to resist the urge of putting his mouth on the pretty little thing. "Hmm,," a sharp cry escaped from her lips as he blew on her little twitching nub. There was this glint in his eyes as he watched her try to buck up, cunt helplessly clenching around nothing.

Before she could beg for him, Bucky's tongue dipped in between folds. Pointed at first, from the entrance of her pussy up to her clit. The tip of his tongue swirl around the aching nub. A breath caught in her throat when Bucky repeat the same move but this time he flattened his tongue.

And then he does it again and again.

Bucky, is generally the larger man compared to anyone. He is tall and beefy. But he is especially big when he's in between her legs, gently devouring her wet pussy. Slow and long licks were his favorite, it allowed him to savor the taste of her. Always so sweet and he couldn't get enough of it.

With every flick Bucky's tongue assulting to her swollen bud, she couldn’t help but pull on sheets behind her, needy moans leaves her lips every time he explored her, teases her. Her body cannot stay still when the pleasure was taking her higher. But it was not a problem for Bucky to control. Whenever she tries to close her thighs together, he stopped her. He didn't want to irritate her wounds or cause any pain, so he kept pushing her thigh open as he nuzzle his face into her pussy.

"Ahhh fuck ,, that feels so good, Bucky!" She moaned his name as the overwhelming feeling of his wet and soft tongue gliding and rubbing on her core, guiding her to heaven.

And the salacious squelching noises to fill the room as Bucky laps and sucks on her clit. She was so wet that he could just shove his fingers up in her hole but he didn't. He won't. After so many days not tasting her, he want to only use his mouth.

Though the man barely spoke during these times, he’d much rather keep his mouth occupied with drinking up her juices or suckling on her cute little clit. But when he does. Fuck. Does he spill the most unholy things.

Bucky momentarily detached himself from her and rasped, "Gonna cum, babydoll? Come on, give it to me. Let me drink and lick your cum after." His metal fingers quickly finds her clit, swiftly started to deliciously rub it; just the way he knew she liked it. It felt so good that her tongued lolled out her mouth out of pure pleasure.

"Yeah, bunny. You're gonna let me clean you up with tongue so nice, so that you can make the same mess again and again. Cum in mouth, babydoll. Cum for me"

He delved right back where is mouth belongs, licking her clit into his mouth just to wrap his lips around the pretty pink bundle of nerves sucking it harshly.  She whined needily her hips started to move on its own accord, searching for more friction of his tongue, “ahh ahh! hmmmm,, s-so fucking good! ahhh,, So close!” she was seeing stars in her hazy vision from how good and dirty she felt.

Bucky's eyes almost rolled back when let out a groan of satisaction against her spread out cunt; he can feel that she was going to cum and want her to do it with his mouth latched on her.

And cum she did, moments after she couldn’t help but squeal as her back arched from the bed, grinding herself on his tongue. Bucky growled at the streams of cream squirting out of her throbbing cunt right into his mouth, down to his throat.

So sweet and warm and addictive.

While her whole body was still shaking from the aftermath of the mindblowing orgasm, Bucky continued to lick and lap on her leaking pussy, slurping and suckling every bit of cream she had blessed him with.

Yet he was still hungry.

She mewled when Bucky started to suck on her clit again and when she looked over at him, he momentarily pulled away, "oh doll, did you forget? I'm not going to stop any time soon. So just lay there, look pretty for me and let me enjoy this sweet little pussy."

End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Have you ever gotten your inner thighs chafed? Anyway, thanks for spending your time to reading my work! Leave your thoughts behind, I'd love to read them ♡

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky smut #bucky fluff #avenger!bucky #bucky x reader smut

[sim0nril3y]

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: Simon hasn't been able to stop thinking about your relationship and how not making a commitment to you might lead you to running off with someone else. He needs to solve this.

Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), suggestive thoughts, canon-typical swearing.

It was strange to Simon that the two of you had settled into routine together. Most nights he’d pick you up after finishing work, he’d bring you back to his home or drop you off at your flat. More often than not Simon would cook you some good food to fill up your empty tummy, then roll around in the sheets together. The next morning you’d wake up beside him and he’d set to making you a hearty breakfast and discuss plans for the days. Those plans typically of doing exactly what you’d done the day before, spending time together and… though he’d never say it aloud Simon enjoyed it, he looked forward to it.

There was the times when Simon was left feeling lonely because you weren’t around. It was when he wouldn’t see you from one day to the next because you were busy working on an art project or work had left you exhausted. Simon was a solitary person, not needing or even wanting other people around him, or… at least that was how he’d felt before meeting you.

So, what was this? A question that Simon had never asked himself before, but now it was burning inside of him. Never before had Simon desired clarification, but as it currently stood you were just two people living independent lives that slept with each other and spent time together. That left opportunity for you to find someone else and bring them into your life. He hoped that wasn’t the case, it certainly wasn’t something you’d mentioned before but it still left that door open for someone to take you from him.

The thought of losing you filled him with utter dread. How was he supposed to sleep at night with your body to curl around? He’d started buying extra food when doing his weekly shop, who was going to help him eat it all? Plus, all your favourite snacks were filling the cupboards, if you weren’t here then they’d just go to waste… Besides, there wasn’t another living soul out there that would be able to make you fall apart as quick as he could.

Bloody hell. He was in deep here.

That night after a long shift at work you were curled up beside him on the sofa, blanket draped over your legs, snacks between your lounging bodies and eyes fixed on whatever dumb show you’d thrown on the TV. You hadn’t seemed to notice that from beside you Simone was stewing silently, mind racing with how to broach the subject in the most subtle way.

These questions and that anxiety was beginning to build up inside of Simon, his knee was bobbing relentlessly, muscles wound tight, fingers tapping furiously against the arm of the sofa like a metronome. How was he going to do this? How was he going to ask for clarification on what you were to each other? What did he actually hope the answer was going to be? He wanted you, right? Only you. He didn’t want another living soul to have you… fuck, the thought of someone else having their hands and their lips on you. It made him seethe.

“What are we?” The question tumbled from his lips, short and frustrated. It caused you to look up at him, brows furrowed. “Sorry?” “You… do you ever do this with anyone else?” He looked down at you through intense dark eyes. “Do I… watch TV with other people?” You questioned, almost not following his line of questions.

Further frustrated Simon bit out. “Do you fuck anyone else?” That made you begin to fight a little smile, finally figure out what he was trying to ask. “And the rest of it… everything we do together… like going for walks, or to dinner… or just watching TV like this…” He gestured to the way you were lounging so comfortably behind him, sans any make-up and looking so relaxed. “Do you?” Simon asked, you simply smirked as you flitted you gaze back towards the TV and muttered easily. “Would it bother you if I did?”

This question only made him stew and simmer again at the thought of someone else being in your life like this. The thought of them kidding and making you fall apart only mad his anger bubble further. “Mm.” He grumbled out, keep his dangerous eyes locked on you.

Reaching across to rest a delicate hand on his tattooed forearm you mentioned softly. “I don’t do this with anyone else, Si.” You informed him, watching the tension leaving him body in that moment. “Only you.” You quip with a little shrug of your shoulders, before continuing. “If I’m not here with you then I’m at work and I’m wishing that I was here with you or counting down the minutes until I’m going to see you again or wildly ignoring all of tasks and remembering all my time with you.” There was vulnerability to your tone as you informed him that. “Then I see you and I’m happy in all those hours before I’m back to being on my own and wishing it’ll happen all over again.”

You were in deep too. With the way that Simon was looking at you, you could have been convinced that there wasn’t anyone else in the world. “Simon, are you trying to ask me something?” Reaching up you brushed your fingers against his face delicately before following with a gentle few kisses against his cheeks and temples and jawline. Every action made forced his body to relax, coaxing his anxiety away before finally the words came. “What if… we did do this everyday? Just… us two…”

You gnawed your lower lip. “I could get behind that.” You agreed with a tiny shrug of your shoulders. “So… if we did do this… what would I call you?” You quirked a brow at him. “My boyfriend?” Simon grimaced. “Love, I’m not a boy.” He muttered, snatching some of your snacks and beginning to munch away. “How about my lover?” You purred playfully and once again Simon groan and threw you a look. “So… just my Simon?” You raised your brows at him, this time he didn’t seem to fight your suggestion, simply smirked.

“Mm…” Then he nodded, much to your surprise. “And you’d be mine.” It was like your heart exploded in your chest, smiling at him and trying not to act overly excited and frighten him off. “I guess I would be~” Then leaning forward you kissed a couple sweet kisses. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? Not moving too fast?” You ask, concerned that Simon might change his mind all of a sudden and end up hurting you both. “M’sure, babe.” He responded, pressing a sweet kiss to your nose. "You're mine."

Masterlist | Ask | 29-01-2024

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #simon riley imagine #simon riley cod #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost simon riley #simon riley x y/n #simon riley smut #simon riley fluff #ghost mw3 #ghost call of duty #ghost smut #ghost fluff #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #1k

[sorrelchestnut]

I've seen a fair number of posts both here and on reddit that question why Tav (or the Dark Urge) would end up as a group leader for any other reason that "game mechanics say so." There's the requisite "okay, well if you play a high charisma character I guess it makes sense," or on the other end of the spectrum, "if you're playing Durge and murder someone right off the bat everyone would be too scared to tell you no." And I get where people are going with this! I really do. But it also fundamentally misunderstands a facet of human nature, which is that the vast majority of people do not actually want to be in charge, because that means being held responsible for the outcome. Accordingly, most people will dither when a group consensus is needed: have none of you ever tried to get a group of friends to agree where to go for dinner? Yeah, it's like that, but waaaay worse.

A lot of times "leadership" is just the willingness to say, "fuck it, y'all do what you want, but I'm doing this." I see it all the time in a corporate environment, where people will go back and forth on group meetings without anyone making a decision until finally one brave soul goes "in my opinion the clear answer is x" and then everyone gratefully goes along with it. Because now it's not their responsibility when something goes wrong! They're just following along with someone else's suggestion, and maybe it works or maybe it doesn't, but at the end of the day they don't have to worry about the consequences unless they're personally affected. In which case they might step up and argue back, and then they're stuck being a leader, too. Welcome to adulthood!

Lae'zel is the only one who ever even tries to exert some kind of control, when she tells you to follow her lead on the ship, or calls you her subordinate in the Grove. But, crucially, she doesn't ever make any serious attempt to take control: you can just tell her, "lol, no," and she sort of confusedly gives way, because she doesn't know how to handle this scenario. In her world there are commanders and subordinates, and everyone knows where they stand and falls in line. She's never actually had to take control of a situation and so at the first sign of resistance she falls back on the dynamic that's familiar to her, which is executing the commands of someone older and more experienced. She goes through a lot of growth over the game, to the point that she can take over as a resistance leader in her own right by the end, but at the beginning she's a wet-behind-her-ears private with some decent combat chops and it shows.

Otherwise, your party consists of:

Shadowheart, who's trained in infiltration and assassination and does NOT want a lot of attention brought to her or her mission for a variety of reasons;

Astarion, who has literally been a slave for two centuries and canonically takes a while to realize that he can exert an opinion beyond complaining about it;

Gale, whose only friend is his cat and couldn't project-manage his way out of a wet paper bag;

Wyll, who was probably trained for command at one point but has been doing the lone-hero thing for a decade and has a very large secret that he's trying to conceal; and,

Karlach, who's only ever been a bodyguard and a soldier and is genuinely just happy to be here.

Honestly, it would be more a surprise if Tav/Durge didn't end up as their unofficial leader, given the general power dynamics at play. The first time Tav/Durge says something like, "fuck it, we need to do something instead of stand around arguing about it, let's go check out those ruins over there," it's a done deal. They're The Captain Now! As long as they don't make decisions that fundamentally oppose something dear and important to the other group members, they're not even going to get any argument. Because at the end of the day, not one of these walking disasters has enough trust in themselves and their decision-making skills to feel any kind of certainty that they can choose the right path forward. If someone else is going to take that decision out of their hands? They're going to follow, no questions asked, right up until the moment they can't.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #meta #some of you people have never suffered through group projects and it shows

[gay-dorito-dust]

How high on the clingy/protective scale these boys are …

Dick: a solid 8.5/10.

A very clingy bean.

Dick would be attached to your hip 24/7 if he could but he couldn’t answer that makes him sad.

In the wise words of @obsessedwithromance on one of my recent posts; ‘if Dick was a dog, he’d be a husky.’

And he’d make a very vocal husky at that with how often he whines and whinges whenever you tried to move from his grasp, acting as though every attempt in removing yourself from his arms were an attack against his character. So he will take personal offence to you wanting to leave him out in the cold and desolate place that was your bedroom. 💀

‘Stop trying to get out of my arms.’ He moans, tightening his hold on you as he buried his head into your neck, locking legs with you for extra measure. ‘Dick, I love you but you’re being too clingy for me right now.’ You reply and had just noticed the error of your ways almost immediately and were about to explain yourself but it was already too late, for you had set Dick the human husky off.

‘Me? Clingy? I thought you liked it when I was clingy? Why the sudden change? What did I do wrong? Why don’t you love me?’ Dick began his tirade and you could only lay there and let him talk your ear off -and loudly might I add- about how you apparently didn’t love him enough, which was a bunch of bullshit, but dick was too in his feelings to listen to reason. You’ll have to kiss him to shut him up, there’s no other option.

So once he’s settled down, he’ll go back to cuddling against your back,smiling dopily while you could only congratulate for a job well done at defusing the situation form getting any worse. You love your dramatic human husky and you wouldn’t change anything for anyone.

Jason: 7.5/10 or a 8/10.

The only time you’re seeing this man be clingy as all hell if he’s in a particular mood and want your affection, which might as well be all the time with this man, or after a not so great nightmare.

He would wake up in a cold sweat and immediately look for you and hold you against his chest as though you were his personal teddy bear, only just until his breathing evens out and not so tense in the muscles. Until then he holds onto you tightly and familiarises himself with you in anyway that he could, whether that be counting your eyelashes, noting the different shades that make up your eyes and much more.

At least just enough to help him gain some sense of self and awareness that he was safe and sound from all harm.

Like Jaime, Jason would watch over you like a hawk as Red Hood without a shadow of a doubt, and Jason has his reasons to do so as he knows the type of people who litter the streets of Gotham at night like the back of his hand. He doesn’t want to subject you to that sort of life of constant fear of having to look over your shoulder in hopes that there wasn’t someone following you home.

For in his minds eye, he’s your sole protector and the one thing that stands between the scumbags of the street and you. Jason doesn’t take this position he’s given himself lightly, it’s unlike him to anyway, as your safety is his top priority and he’d do anything to obtain it; whether they way it’s obtained was morally questionable or not, he doesn’t care for as long as your safe, he’ll live to learn with having permanent blood on his hands.

Damian: 5/10 on a good day. 2/10 in general.

He’s not an overly clingy person. Protective? yes. Clingy? No. It’s just not in just nature and he can be very awkward going about it too.

Damian knows he doesn’t have to constantly survey you 24/7, he has more faith in you and your abilities then most. He knows that you won’t call upon him if at all when faced with a situation that you could easily resolve yourself.

However if you were to get hurt on his watch or otherwise, that’s when he gets slightly clingy and will attempt to be within any space with you possible. Damian shows care in a completely different way than most and will more or less act like a guard dog when it came to you.

This little dude will point his sword at anyone that comes into close contact with you while glaring at them, meanwhile you’re having to push the blade of his sword down and away from the poor victim, only for Damian to raise his sword back towards their throat once more.

‘Pack it in.’ You’d hiss.

‘No. You’re practically useless when hurt, so let me deal with this one.’ Damian said.

You purposely ignored the fact that he had just called you useless and instead pushed the blade of his sword down until it was pointing at the floor again. ‘He’s not even a threat, just a regular citizen. So you can stop it with the fear attics now.’ You told him in a hushed tone. Damian meets your eyes with a glare of his own. ‘How you can be certain he’s a harmless civilian? What if he’s a low life thug of an underground drug syndicate on the rise? You can’t allow yourself to trust every face you meet.’ He replies, not one to back down for anyone, not even you.

You sigh as you rubbed the sides of your head. ‘Well at least try not to cause more issue for your dad. I swear between you, Jason, Tim and Dick I don’t know who gives him the most grey hairs.’

Jaime: runner up for Dick’s crown with also a 8.5/10

He’s clingy in a sense that he fears of loosing you constantly.

Khaji-Da doesn’t make the situation any better as it only encourages Jaime’s Innate clinginess tenfold, and now Jaime can’t go a couple of minutes without offering to join you on wherever your going.

He just cares about you very deeply and wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he’d ever lost you despite having the ability to stop any harm from coming your way. So needless to say that you spend most of your time with him and his family is a severe understatement.

It’s not as though he doesn’t trust you, he wholeheartedly does, but that trust doesn’t extend to potential outside threats. Hell, he would even go as far as to watch over you as Blue Beatle, much to the behest of literally everyone that isn’t Khaji-Da because the scarab is just as clingy over you in a sense that you were Jaime’s mate and there for should be within close proximity to him at all times.

It’s endearing but I think it’s about time you told Kahji-Da to cool it on the whole threatening people you talked to with plans to eliminate them…

#dc imagine #dc x reader #dc comics x reader #dc x you #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagines #jason todd fanfiction #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson imagines #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson fluff #dick grayson x you #damian wayne x you #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne imagines #damian wayne fluff #jaime reyes imagines #jaime reyes x you #jaime reyes x reader #jaime reyes imagine #jaime reyes fanfiction #dc fluff #nightwing x you #nightwing fluff #nightwing imagines #nightwing imagine #nightwing x reader

[sparkrls]

simple questions

MASTERLIST

Summary: in which Harry is eager to makes his girl happy and she just wants answers to simple questions

Author’s Note: a blurb i wrote based on these Harry pics because I am NOT over it

Word Count: 2.6k words

•••

Her boyfriend was an idiot. That’s what Y/N resolved as she watched him stumble over his words as he was asked a simple question of, “Who’s the girl you’re with?”. It wasn’t even anyone important asking, just a fan who’d noticed Harry and felt brave enough to ask for a photo, albeit with hands that shook as she passed over her phone.

It had started as Y/N’s idea. She knew she was entirely at fault for Harry’s nerves, but it wasn’t even completely her idea. She had just asked him, “Have you ever had a public outing with a partner?”

It was an innocent question, asked due to pure curiosity, not with any ulterior motive as Harry suspected. He had given her a look, trying to get a read on her intent behind those words. He tended to do that a lot. Doubt people’s words, like they had some double meaning, and they were trying to trick him into making a fool of himself. She had a tough time getting him to trust her enough as to not doubt her as much, but the trust issues slipped through every once in a while.

Harry then stumbled over his words, the way a newborn doe might trip and fall as it clambered onto its frail legs. Simple questions were never his forte. He could answer you deep, philosophical questions and ponder them in his mind without hesitation, but it was the simple questions that tripped him up. A whole conundrum, if you asked Y/N.

Eventually, Harry admitted, “No.”

She’d stared at him with a deadpan expression, because it had taken an extraordinary amount of ‘um’s and ‘uh’, along with some weird humming sounds to get a one-word answer from him.

So she followed up with, “Don’t you wanna?”

“Do you want me to do it with you?”

“Well, no, I was just asking because-“

“I’ll do it with you,” Harry rushed to say.

Sometimes he tended to rush himself into doing favors for people he didn’t really want to do. A tendency lots of overly kind people had. And he’d always have this particular warm, soft tone when he did. And she loved that little tone that indicated he was feeling kind. But lots of times he regretted agreeing to those things and would stumble home to her apartment, grumbling and griping about whatever stupidity he’d been forced to do. So it grew into a strange mixture of adoration and disdain for that tone. Because she never liked to see her boy tired to the bone because he was too polite to back away from a promise. (Although she did love running her fingers through his soft hair until he fell asleep with his head on her lap)

This time, however, Harry wasn’t using that warm tone. It was a much different one, a bit of a higher pitch, and with a much sweeter undertone. It was a tone he used when he was trying to win the favor of his girlfriend.

She chuckled, “Baby, I didn’t ask you to-“

Harry had one arm rested on her waist and the other underneath the pillow she rested her head on. “But I wanna,” He said with a small pout, an almost whiny quality to his words. His cherry lips looked so kissable when they stuck out that way. “Wanna show the world you’re mine.” He leaned up until his nose was nuzzling her neck, and his lips brushed against her collarbone. “Mine and only mine.”

His lips clamped down on her skin, sucking at it for a moment before allowing his teeth to nibble lightly. Sharp stings followed wherever his teeth sunk in so deliciously, sending sparks throughout her whole body.

Y/N had learned early on that Harry had a very possessive side to him. He’d spent years feeling that everything he was belonged to the public, including all the dirty details of his personal life and his friends and partners. And now he had regained that privacy (he’d had to pry it by force from the unfailing grip of the media), he wanted to claim everything as his own.

It was why Harry was so fiercely protective of his friends and loyal to a fault. He felt the incessant urge to always stick by their side. He finally knew what it was like to have something belong to him, and it was his greatest fear to lose it.

After a lot of therapy, communication and compromise, Harry had not only found a healthy balance for himself but for his relationship with Y/N as well. A certain possessiveness that she wouldn’t deny him because she could never refuse anything he asked, and it was just part of who he was. But a harsh line as to not become controlling or overprotective as Harry had threatened to do in previous relationships.

The habits snuck into their daily lives, as Harry had a tendency to leave marks where everyone could see them. Therefore, the hickeys on the neck which Y/N always had to cover with concealer because she despised turtlenecks with a passion.

“Love, I’m not doubting your choice,” she began to speak, interrupted by Harry leaving open-mouthed kisses from her jugular up to the base of her jaw. And it was getting hard to think straight when his lips were on her and his tongue was tracing delightful patterns.

Y/N cleared her throat trying to focus. “However, I don’t want this to be an impulse decision. Think it through.”

Harry separated his lips from her skin long enough to murmur, “I’m sure. I wanted to make it public to everyone soon anyways, might as well go out together.” As he spoke, his warm breath grazed against her sensitive skin, causing goosebumps.

“Go out where?”

“The Man U match, obviously.”

And that was why Y/N spent the next week fussing over her choice of hairstyle, whether to leave her natural waves or straighten it or straighten it and then create strategically messy waves. And then freaking out on the phone to her best friend about whether her outfit was a good choice or not. Because of course, she had to look stylish for her first public appearance with Harry- those photos would be circulating the internet until the day she died- but she also had to dress for the unforgiving winter and plan for rain. Even if she was going to be in the VIP suite with Harry, the entrance and exit could possibly have rain, and she couldn’t always count on an umbrella. She’d learned that the five times she’d gotten stuck in the rain while waiting at a too-full bus stop in peak traffic in London.

The point was, Y/N didn’t want to let down Harry nor the fans by wearing the wrong hairstyle, clothes or makeup. Resulting in overthinking every tiny detail down to the jewelry.

The morning of, it was Harry who soothed her nerves saying, “Love, if you don’t want to do it we don’t have to. It was always a choice.”

“I want to, but it’s just…” She looked up at him with a shaky breath. “It’s scary.”

“We can wait,” Harry replied, placing her face in his hands, his thumb caressing her cheek. “We’ll stay home and watch the game on the telly, we’ll wear our sweats and I’ll order in some food from that Thai place you’ve been wanting to try.”

Taking a good look at Harry from top to bottom, from those dress pants that clung to his thighs in the most delightful manner, and the button-up that tragically hid his well-sculpted biceps to the sweater vest he’d bought the first time they’d gone shopping together. He looked so soft and warm, yet so confident and sure of himself. Like a scale that had finally found balance.

Harry had an energy that screamed youthful, but he’d recently settled into the warm feeling of peace that came not with age, but the realization that chaos wasn’t necessary to be happy. He wasn’t afraid of his career always being on the chopping block, or the precarious opinions of outsiders. He had found himself, and with it, found an inner peace he’d never had before.

And it showed. From the way he dressed, to the courage of him showing up to their hotel room with the surprise of a shaved head one day, to the way he carried himself so firmly. He was centered. He was calm. And he was happy.

This was the first time everyone else would get to see Harry after the latest stage of his self-discovery. And Y/N wouldn’t be the one to hold him back. “No, I want to go,” she said firmly. “But I want you to pick my outfit.”

To no one’s surprise, Harry picked an outfit that was primarily made up of clothing from his own closet, completely shoving aside the outfit she had previously picked out for herself because, “Babe, I have better taste than you.”

Y/N didn’t have bad taste, but when it came to fashion, she laid her trust in Harry… most of the time.

The only thing he kept were the jeans she’d picked out, a new pair she’d gotten recently which flattered her figure. They were high waisted and cropped at the ankle, the color a grayish tone of the classic denim. Most importantly, they highlighted her ass. The one thing that no matter how insecure she was, she always loved. And Harry did as well, if the way he swatted her ass playfully a couple of times a day was any indication.

He paired it with a long-sleeve white top that clung to her skin, a green sweater on top that was slightly baggy on her figure as it was one of his and one a black coat that would keep her warm. Harry was careful to make sure all the layers would keep her warm even in the winter air, as he knew she tolerated much less cold than he did.

“Cute,” Harry said with a dimpled smile when she finished putting on the outfit and gave him a twirl to showcase it. “You’re really pretty, darling.” He hooked his fingers through her belt loops and yanked her forward until she almost toppled into his chest as he sat on the edge of his bed. He gave her a soft smile, the kind he gave her right before a heartfelt message- “And ten times prettier because I chose the outfit.”

Y/N swatted his arm playfully at his joke, and he simply laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling up. “It’s a basic outfit.”

“Aw, don’t be mean because the outfit I picked out is better than the one you did.”

“You’re such a bully.”

Harry grinned at her. “Is that so?”

She nodded in mock earnestness. “Yeah. I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” Harry replied simply.

“No, I don’t.”

With a couple of more kisses which included wiping the lipstick from Harry’s lips, the couple got into the car and held hands as the engine started and drove them to the stadium.

“So, we’re cheering for Man U, right?”

Harry sighed heavily. “Love, do you even know me?”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” She said with a chuckle, raising her hands defensively. “Man U for football and Green Bay Packers for the other football.” She gave him an apologetic look. “Sorry baby, but I know nothing about football.”

“I’m going to be explaining all the rules, aren’t I?”

Y/N’s silence was enough of a response.

But then it was time for the most dreaded moment of the day, when they entered the stadium hand-in-hand, walking past press and media and paparazzi.

Harry laced his fingers between hers and gave her a small squeeze before opening the car door and stepping out. He was quick, making her almost jog to catch up with his long strides. He’d warned her he would move hastily as to avoid lingering around the cameras longer than necessary.

There was one quick snap and a small flash and then-

They were inside the stadium and no press could chase them in any longer.

“Wait, that was it?” Y/N asked, glancing at the door they’d just walked through as their pace slowed down.

Harry glanced at her quizzically. “Did you expect more?”

“Well, you always describe it all huge and dramatic, flashing lights and a billion cameras and a huge crowd of screaming lunatics-“

“Football matches are different,” Harry said, chuckling as he interrupted her rant.

“I got worried over that?” Y/N signaled over her shoulder, her jaw dropping. “Seriously?!”

Harry laughed. “What do you expect me to say? You’re an overthinking maniac?”

She huffed, “This is your fault.”

Harry kissed her when her lips pouted. “Love you, darling.”

“Love you too,” She grumbled as they made their way to the VIP suite.

And that’s the full story of how they’d ended up at the Man U match- which they won, thank god, because Harry would’ve teased her relentlessly for being bad luck- and with a fan asking for a photo and asking who Y/N was.

“Um, well- she- we met- me and her-“ Harry couldn’t seem to form a train of thought, so she rolled her eyes and took control of the situation.

Holding out a hand for the fan to shake, Y/N said her name and said, “I’m Harry’s girlfriend. Nice to meet you, babe.”

The fan’s jaw dropped. It was a bit hilarious, but out of sheer politeness, Y/N held back her laughter. “You are definitely hot enough. Cool. Bye.” Turning on her heel, the fan walked away.

Harry seemed in shock as Y/N laughed, turning to him, completely bewildered. “You hear that? I’m ‘hot enough’!”

Without a care in the world of the dozen of cameras probably pointed at them, Harry grasped her face in his hands and gave her a deep, loving kiss.

Y/N scanned his face, a giddy smile on her own, “What was that for?”

“For being my girlfriend,” Harry replied before pulling her back in for another kiss. So maybe she’d allow her boyfriend a celebratory kiss or two or maybe five before they had the decency to move out of sight of the cameras. And just maybe, it wasn’t their last football match together.

Two years later, Y/N and Harry would return to the very same stadium for yet another Man U match, a bit older, a lot more mature and their love stronger after growing roots for so long. The tree flourishing with branches extending to the deeper reaches of her heart, she had never felt so fulfilled. Like the world was so much lighter and easier to endure even with the extra weight of a diamond ring on her finger, and a white gold band identical to the one on Harry’s hand.

“Who’s the girl you’re with?” The fan asked, a 15-year-old girl with her hair dyed blue and a Love On Tour shirt on, her curious eyes scanning Y/N, a flicker of familiarity in them.

Harry smiled, looking his wife up and down, admiring the outfit he’d carefully chosen for her earlier that day. He inhaled deeply, and for once, he didn’t trip over his words as he replied firmly, “This is Y/N. I’m her husband.”

#harrystyles #fanfic #fanfiction #harry styles #female oc #harry styles writing #harry styles x female reader #oc #writing #harry styles blurb #blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry #harry edward styles #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #x reader #reader insert #harry imagine #harry blurb #harrystylesxfemoc #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x femoc #harry styles x fem!reader

[written-in-flowers]

Do you think you could write something where Aegon fingers future sister wife (sister betrothed?) during their lessons with a Maester or Septa 💚💕

Pairing: Aegon ii x Targ!reader 

Words: 1k

Warnings: vaginal fingering, dry humping, underage sex stuff, hand-jobs. 

Lessons are Boring

You’d always been the attentive one during lessons. Maester Ryle oversaw the education of the prince and princesses of House Targaryen for two or three generations. A wrinkled old man with a few thin white hairs on his head, his maester’s robe hung loosely on his body and his chains clinked together when he walked. Due to his bad knees and hips, Maester Ryle often sat during the lessons and pointed at things on his board with a walking stick. This meant, he could hardly see over the other side of the table where the children sat in front of him. This meant, while Aemond, Helaena and you took notes and answered his questions, Aegon’s hand could slide onto your lap without him noticing.

"-The Faith of the Seven and the High Septon have often been at odds with House Targaryen and The Crown as a whole. It was only upon the ascension of King Jaehaerys that these bonds were finally mended,” said the old maester from his seat, “Can any of you tell me how this was achieved? Ah, Prince Aemond, yes.”

“King Jaehaerys refused to reinstate the Swords and Stars of the Faith, and removed the bounties King Maegor put on the heads of Warrior’s Sons and Poor Fellows. He then gave a white cloak to Ser Joffrey Doggett, who’d been part of the band of Warrior’s Sons, and he accepted it,” Aemond told him. “He swore to The Faith that The Crown will always protect and defend them from then on. It has been such ever since.”

“Indeed,” Maester Ryle nodded in approval.

You’d been listening to Maester Ryle go on about the history between their family and the followers of The Seven when a warm hand touched your knee. Looking over, you saw Aegon smirking. You stared down to see his hand sliding up and down your thigh slowly. Due to the tablecloth, Maester Ryle could not see the prince’s hand lifting your skirt inch by inch over your knees. You bit back a gasp as his bare fingertips grazed your flesh, smoothing over the curves and dips. The gentle touch made your toes curl inside your shoes; your thighs tensed at the sudden brush, and a warmth spread between your legs. Fingertips lightly dragging up and down your inner thigh, Aegon waited until you’d bitten your bottom lip to slide further up. The side of his hand pushed right up to your naked sex, he gripped the side tenderly to make you whimper.

“-Now, Queen Alyssa and her husband feared the marriage of Jaehaerys to his sister, Alysanne, might cause-Princess?”

He’d heard her. Damn the man. Aegon snickered softly but you merely stammered, “N-N-Nothing, Maester. Please, go on.” You turned your head and said low as possible, “Aegon…”

“What? This is boring,” he replied, doing the same.

You turned your attention to the lesson, while Aegon’s fingers made their way to your sex once more. His index finger sliding between your folds, his other two fingers kept them open while he used his index finger to tease the pearl they covered. The direct contact and unrelenting friction had you clenching your jaw and doing your best to stay firmly planted in your seat. Helaena, far too busy watching an ant crawl across her book, didn’t notice what was going on. Maester Ryle continued going on about history while Aemond listened and wrote notes. Soon, wetness began pooling there and Aegon took the chance to spread it over your lips and the hood of your clitoris. He let his fingers grind into your entrance, feeling your walls starting to flutter at their touch and making you grip your own book. It reminded you of the other day when you’d slipped your hand into his breeches during a ball, stroking him to completion and sending him into euphoria in a room full of people. You should’ve known he’d try getting back at you. He continued languidly rolling his two fingers around your clit, tracing the edges of the folds and dipping right beneath the nub to make you squeak. Any other time, he’d have you falling apart, especially if he used his tongue which he’d gotten so much better at. But now, you needed to keep yourself together or your mother will be hearing about it.

She still hadn’t forgotten what you’d done on the window ledge.

"-Can any of you tell me which house is closest to the Faith? Princess Y/N, would you care to guess?”

“Yes, dear sister,” Aegon smiled at you, “Which house is it? I forget.”

“Well, dear brother,” you replied without moaning, “It’s House Hightower, our mother’s family.”

“Ah, right. Yes, of course.”

“That is correct. House Hightower has maintained a very healthy relationship with the Faith for many generations…”

You didn’t hear how they maintained that relationship because once Aegon slipped a finger inside you, you nearly let out a moan which you disguised as a cough. His palm continuously rubbing against your clit while his finger pumped into you, you felt every single shiver of pleasure course through you. You wished more than anything you could drag him somewhere private in the library and let him finish you as he should. You already knew everything you needed to know about the various religions of the world and their importance to people. When Aegon added a second finger, you knew you were doomed. The boy had a way of making you weak without trying too hard. Not that you didn’t have the same effect on him in return.

He kept the pace slow and almost lazy, withdrawing his fingers slowly and pushing them back in tenderly. He couldn’t go much faster without the old man noticing his arm. It didn’t help that whenever you came close to orgasm, he stopped suddenly. The agony became far too much; the room suddenly felt hot and the need in you became far too ravenous to focus on anything else. Thankfully, the maester ended the lesson after he finished telling you all about The Faith of the Seven. He said they’d all talk about the royal progresses of the Old King and his queen next time. You nodded, and took a cackling Aegon by the hand. You didn’t stop walking until you reached his bed chambers, where you threw him onto his bed. Quickly, you untied his breeches while he worked on unbuttoning the front of your gown. Having access to your breasts, Aegon’s lips latched around them and suckled firmly while you withdrew his cock. You never put him inside, but you enjoyed rubbing your soaked pussy over his length until you both came.

And that’s what you did. You dragged your sex up and down his hard shaft and leaking head while he licked and teased your sensitive nipples. It did not take long for either of you to cum. Your parts exposed to one another and your passion burning hot, you didn’t hold back this time. Clutching the pillows underneath his head, your orgasm hit you hard. Thighs quivering and your body tensing all over, you humped Aegon’s cock until your clit became overstimulated by him. Aegon grabbed your ass and kept you still as he went along with you and came over his stomach. Cheeks red, hair spread over the pillows, and utter satisfaction on his face, Aegon always looked so beautiful after an orgasm. He looked beautiful all the time, even if others thought otherwise. Panting, you rested on top of him for a while, kissing and whispering words of love to one another.

“Thank god Maester Ryle is old and can’t walk,” you said, chuckling, “I’d hate to think of what he’d tell Mother is he’d seen us.”

“The same thing everyone else says,” he put on his best quavering tone as he said, “The young Prince Aegon and Princess Y/N were being rather inappropriate during their lesson this morning, Your Grace. It is behavior unbefitting a noble child. They must be put in proper order right away.”

“That is more or less what he told me.”

Her voice made you both jump apart, and cover yourselves. Your mother stood by the foot of the bed, arms crossed and disappointment on her face once again. She stared at you both for a moment, and shame immediately hit you. You truly should’ve conducted yourself in a more proper manner.

“Just because Maester Ryle is old doesn’t mean he is a fool,” she said, sighing. “Tell me you at least didn’t put it in.”

“He didn’t,” you shook your head. “He never does. I don’t let him.”

“Must you two behave this way? Think about the shame it brings on you both.”

“She’ll be my wife one day,” Aegon said, pulling his sheets over his crotch. “They should be happy the prince and princess show a healthy passion for one another. It implies that we’ll produce children….someday….”

Your mother took these words into consideration, “I suppose you’re right…but please, have some decency and do it behind closed doors. I am sick of hearing from everyone about the things they find you two doing. It is not something a mother wishes to hear.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Yes, we’re sorry, Mother.”

You watched her leave, then turned to each other as the door closed. Bursting into a fit of giggles, you both fell back on the bed and shared a soft kiss. “At least she didn’t scream this time,” you noted, letting him kiss down your neck.

“At least there’s that, yes,” he said, voice muffled by your skin. “Take off your dress,” he said, coming back up to kiss you, “I wish to see the rest of you.”

“Did you not just hear our mother?”

“Yes, I heard her say ‘do it behind closed doors’,” he then pointed to the door, “It’s closed and we’re behind it.” He knelt between your legs and lifted your leg. Kissing your inner thigh, he started untying the ribbons holding your stockings, “So, if you’ll indulge me, my sweet princess, I’d like us to spend the day drinking and pleasuring each other in any way we possibly can.”

“Hm,” you said thoughtfully, “I suppose you are right, my prince. That sounds like a wonderful idea.”

You slid further down the bed to reach his shirt. Your day was certainly going uphill after a boring lesson.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon ii x yn #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii smut #house of the dragon #hotd smut #hotd drabbles #hotd imagines #hotd fanfiction #ty tennant

[waitimcomingtoo]

Dog Days are Over

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: Tom hires you as a dog walker but ends up wanting more

Masterlist

“Coming.” Tom called when he heard his doorbell ring. He wasn’t expecting anyone, so he made no effort to look presentable before opening the door. Once unlocked his front door, he found you standing outside. You smiled awkwardly and gave a stiff wave. He quickly fixed his hair when he realized his surprise visitor was a girl and leaned against his doorframe in an attempt to look cool.

“Hi. Tom?” You asked him.

“Hi, yeah, that’s me. And you are?”

“Y/n. Your brother hired me to help you out. He said you were in desperate need of my service.” You explained. Tom shut his eyes in embarrassment and felt himself turn bright red.

“My brother? Oh my God. Look, you’re very pretty and I’m sure you’re very good at your job-“

“Slow down. I’m a dog sitter.” You clarified. “And walker. And some might even say whisperer.”

“Oh.” He smiled in surprise. “A dog sitter? Right. I knew that.”

“You thought I was a sex worker, didn’t you?” You said with a raise of your eyebrow.

“I did.” He admitted. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. They make a lot of money. If I had any of those skills, I’d be doing that instead. But alas, my talent lies with getting dogs to be obedient.”

“This was the strangest start to a conversation I’ve ever had.” Tom said, mostly to himself.

“You know what? Me too.” You laughed, making him relax and laugh as well.

“Why don’t I show you my dog and then we can discuss what I might need you for?” Tom offered and stepped to the side. You smiled shyly at him and walked into his house with him following behind you. You took a moment to look around his space to get to know him a little. He had photos of his family and his dog all around, as well as memorabilia from past films he was in as well. He disappeared into the other room for a second before returning with Tessa in his arms.

“So this is the woman in my life. Tessa. The only woman in my life.” He emphasized, making you look at him sympathetically.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. When did your mom pass?” You asked him as you pet Tessa.

“Oh, no. She’s fine. She sent me a recipe for cornbread this morning. I just meant I have no romantic prospects.” Tom quickly corrected.

“Oh. Okay.” You laughed awkwardly and looked to the side.

“Sorry. I feel like I’m talking so much. And that all the things I’m saying are insane and embarrassing. Are you also feeling like that?” He asked you through a nervous laugh.

“I’m not feeling anything except this coat. What shampoo do you use on her?” You asked in baby voice as you put your nose against Tessa and scratched her ears. She immediately warmed up to you in a way Tom had never seen her do before with a stranger. He smiled and looked at you fondly before realizing he actually had to answer your question.

“Oh, uh. Rain, mostly. Sometimes dish soap if she bumps into me while I’m washing dishes.” Tom answered honestly, making you crack a smile and look up at him. He smiled in relief when you found his word vomit funny.

“You hand wash your dishes? In this big ass house?” You laughed and looked around.

“I do. Is that weird? I feel like it keeps me humble. Like, if I ever started using my dishwasher, I’d become James Franco overnight.”

“I like that.” You chuckled. “I just figured you’d have someone to do that for you. You know, since you’re Spiderman and all.”

“I’m not one of those celebrities. I don’t pay people to wipe my butt and stuff. I’m just a regular guy.”

“Wow. That’s definitely the first time I’ve heard a “I’m not like other celebrities” speech.” You said sarcastically but playfully.

“Oh yeah? What are you, some kind of celebrity dog walker?” Tom humored you and put Tessa down. She immediately nuzzled up to your leg and laid down on your foot.

“You could say that.” You smiled coyly and bent down to pet Tessa.

“Oh. I was trying to tease you but I guess that’s exactly what your job is.” He laughed and bent down as well to be eye level with you.

“Yep. That’s how your brother found me. I was walking one of Ariana Grande’s thousand dogs and it bit Harry on the ankle out side of a Panera.”

“Oh shit. Tolouse?”

“Yeah. How’d you know?” You smiled in surprise.

“That’s the only one I know.” He sheepishly admitted.

“Honestly, me too. I just call “Toulouse” and make kissy sounds and they all come running. All 500 of them.”

“Kissy sounds?” He laughed in confusion.

“You know.” You smiled shyly and made kissing sounds to show Tom what you meant.

“Oh. I like that. See, this is how I call Tess.” He said and stood up. He then bent his knees a little and patted his thighs. Tessa stopped cuddling you to run to him.

“Ah, yes. The old crouch and pat. You know your stuff.” You smiled and stood up straight.

“I’m glad you approve.” He said as he blushed at the compliment, even if it was stupid.

“I do. I respond to the same call actually.” You joked.

“Good to know.” Tom laughed. You looked at each other for a minute and a silence filled the room for a little too long. It was surprisingly not awkward, just noticeable. Tom felt unusually comfortable with you and liked that Tessa did too.

“So what kind of services do you think you might need?” You asked to break the silence.

“Well, I travel a lot for work. So I need someone to look after her while I’m away. She’s a really good dog, though. She does all her business on walks which I try to do twice a day and she never bites or growls. Except at my brother. But he usually growls first.”

“She sounds great.” You laughed and gave Tessas chin a scratch.

“She is. She’s kinda my best friend.”

“That’s sweet. Have you had her a long time?”

“Since I was 16, yeah.” Tom told you.

“Aw.” You pouted. “She grew up with you.”

“Yeah. She did. Though neither of us got much bigger than we were when we first met.” Tom tried to joke.

“You’re the same size you were at 16?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Height wise, unfortunately yes. But fortunately I grew in other places since being 16, if you know what I mean.” Tom replied, immediately regretting it. You raised both eyebrows at him this time and looked at Tessa to see if she heard that too.

“Oh. Cool.” You laughed awkwardly.

“I wish I didn’t say that.” He admitted.

“I wish that too.” You nodded before an awkward silence fell. you stared at each other for a moment before Tom changed the subject.

“Let me show you around.” He offered and put his hand on your back to lead you around the house. He brought you into all the rooms and ended the tour in his pantry.

“And this is where I keep her treats and food. And her heart worm medication but that’s just a once a month pill.”

“Oh, sick. I’ve eaten a few of these. They look exactly like my gummy vitamins.” You nodded and tapped the box of medication.

“Do they work?” He genuinely wondered.

“Well, I’ve never had heart worm.” You shrugged.

“Wow. At least now I know they really work.”

“So is it just you that lives here?” You wondered and looked around again.

“My best friend Harrison lives here too. And my brothers occasionally stay over.”

“These guys?” You asked and pointed to a nearby framed picture.

“Yeah. That’s my family.” He smiled proudly.

“Woah. That’s a lot of boys. Bless your moms heart.” You chuckled and touched the picture.

“Yeah. She’s a saint for putting up with all of us. We did not make it easy.”

“You’re definitely the cutest.” You said without taking your eyes off the picture.

“Oh. Why, thank you.” Tom smiled in surprise and touched his cheek to his shoulder.

“I was talking to Tessa.”

“Oh.” His smile fell.

“I’m just teasing. I was talking about you.” You patted his shoulder before moving past him. Tom chuckled a little and touched his shoulder where your hand had been before going after you.

“So does anyone else occasionally stay over?” You asked, wanting to circle back to the “no romantic prospects” conversation.

“No. No one.”

“Hm.” You nodded and turned your head away from him to smile at the answer. No one staying over confirmed no girlfriend.

“What about at your house?” He asked you, wondering the same things you were wondering.

“I live in a flat above a bakery. So other than the occasional rat, no. No overnight guests.” You told him, knowing exactly why he asked.

“Oh my. Those wouldn’t be the friendly rats that can cook, right?”

“Unfortunately not. They��re the unfriendly kind that run across your floor in the middle of the night and scare the absolute shit out of you.”

“I bet you wish you had an overnight guest then. To help you fend off the rats.” Tom joked as he moved closer to you.

“Oh, absolutely. Everyone knows trapping and releasing a rat is at the very least a two man job.” You humored him. He laughed and realized he felt comfortable with you as if he had known you for years instead of just a few minutes.

“I don’t know about you, but I think this pairing has been a success. Do you think you’ll take the job?”

“I could definitely add Miss Tessa to my roster.” You nodded, making Tom first pump subtly.

“Perfect. Let me get your information then.” He smiled and handed you his phone to get your number. You gladly accepted it and typed it in, adding a dog emoji next to your name so he remembered.

“When can you start?”

“How’s right now sound?”

“That’s perfect. I’ll come and show you my usually routes.” Tom said and brought you over to where he kept Tessa’s many leashes.

“So how long have you been walking dogs?” Tom asked once you were stroking down the sidewalk together with Tessa pulling you.

“Five years. I started doing it during college for extra cash and then dropped out of college because I realized no matter what I got my degree in or what job was offered to me, I’d rather be with the dogs.”

“So you’re an animal person I take it?” He chuckled at your explanation.

“Big time.” You nodded. “But not enough to be a vet or a zoologist. Dog walker was the perfect solution for me.”

“You seem really good at it.“ Tom tried to compliment you.

“It’s really not that hard.” You pointed out, making him shut his eyes in embarrassment.

“Yeah. It felt like a stupid compliment as soon as I said it.” He admitted. You laughed and squeezed his arm, making him relax and stop feeling embarrassed.

“It’s okay.” You laughed. “You tried. It’s the effort that matters the most with girls. Trust me.”

“Oh really? Not the execution?”

“That’s important too. But I guess for me personally, I just want to know you’re trying. I don’t care if it comes out weird.”

“That’s good to know. I always come out weird.” Tom replied, then instantly felt regret.

“I didn’t mean it like-“

“I figured.” You laughed again and looked at him.

“We need to change the subject. What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received?”

“Hm, that’s a good question. Maybe the time that someone told me once that they always felt listened to when they talked to me. And that resonated more than anytime I’d ever been called pretty.” You answered him.

“Well you probably hear that one a lot. I’d imagine it loses meaning after a while.” He said, making you smile shyly at the subtle compliment.

“It depends on who says it.” You said and looked over your shoulder at him as Tessa tugged you forward.

“Well, I think you’re beautiful.” He said as stopped walking. You stopped walking as well and turned to look at him.

“Gross.” You said, taking him by surprise.

“What?”

“Sorry. That just came out. I don’t react to compliments well.” You said and slapped your hand over your mouth.

“Oh. It’s okay.” He laughed and started walking again. You fell into a stride beside him again and relaxed when he didn’t find your reaction to the compliment too weird.

“What I meant to say was thank you.” You told him.

“Maybe I’ll be able to give you a better one once I get to know you a little better.” He replied, making you smile.

“It’s nice to have goals.” You said coyly.

“It definitely is.” He chuckled and never took his eyes off you.

“Tess, I think I may be in love.” Tom announced once you had gone back home. Tessa didn’t look up from her very busy and engaging task of licking her foot.

“I know I just met her. But come on. You can’t tell me you didn’t feel the chemistry.” Tom continued while Tessa kept licking her foot.

“Why are you getting so defensive? I didn’t say you had to call her mommy.“ Tom scoffed. Tessa stood up and tilted her head to the side.

“But I might.” He added with a cheeky smile. Tessa sighed and laid down on the floor.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. That was a bad joke.” He agreed while Tessa rolled over and laid on her side.

“Look, darling, I know change is scary. It’s scary for me too. But it can’t be just us forever, princess. You’ve been the only woman in my life for too long now. It’s time to add someone else.” Tom said gently as he bent down to pet Tessa. Tessa licked his hand and he sighed.

“You’re right.” He agreed. “I don’t even know how she feels. But I swear, Tess, there was a spark. I felt it. And I think she did too.”

Tom pulled out his phone and started to write to you. Tessa let out a little whine and stamped her feet.

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m texting her her work schedule. You’re getting walked every day from now on.” He told Tessa. Tessa shook out her body in response.

“I know you already get walked everyday. I was making a joke about how I’m gonna make her walk you everyday so I get to see her more. Keep up.” Tom said sarcastically. Tessa whined again and Tom felt bad for sassing her.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I won’t let her come between us.” Tom told her. Tessa laid down on the floor in response.

“What?” Tom laughed in surprise. “No. You have a dirty mind.”

Tom asked you to come over the next day for your first day or work. He spent the morning tidying up the house, then made it a little messy so you wouldn’t expect the house to be clean every time you came over. Finally, he heard the doorbell ring.

“Oh my God. It’s her. Be cool.” He warned Tessa as he smoothed his hair.

“Hi. I brought you muffins. I felt like I had to announce that immediately or else I’d be awkwardly holding this box and looking for an appropriate time to say I have muffins.” You said as soon as Tom opened the door. He smiled and felt himself relax when he realized you were just as nervous as he was.

“Aw, darling. You didn’t have to do that.” He said as he took the muffin box from you. You stepped inside and he helped you out of your coat. You felt your face heat up and he hands slid down your arms to take the coat off but didn’t see that he had a matching blush across his face.

“It was no trouble. I get them for free when the bakery messes up a batch.” You admitted.

“Oh, really? What’s wrong with these?” Tom laughed nervously and pulled out of the box.

“I didn’t ask.” You told him. You both stared at the muffin in his hand for a minute before caving.

“I’ll try it if you do.” He said.

“Okay. Deal.” You smiled and nodded your head. Tom took a bite and then handed the muffin to you. Instead of turning it around, you bit right where Tom’s mouth had just been. He took this as your first kiss and felt his face heat up.

“Not bad.” He shrugged after swallowing the muffin.

“Yeah. I guess we’ll never know.” You laughed and put the muffin back in the box.

“What bakery did you say these were from?”

“Destiny Bakery. I live in the apartment right above it.” You told him.

“I remember you mentioning that. I didn’t realize it was that bakery. I love that one. The couple that owns it has that cute little girl that’s always in the shop. Haley, I think.”

“Yep. Haley’s very sweet. I bring the dogs I walk by sometimes so she can pet them.”

“They seem like a cute family.”

“They are. They actually just had twins. They bring them around sometimes.”

“How long have you lived there?” He asked you.

“Ever since I loved to London five years ago.” You explained.

“Ah. So you’re not a native?” He smirked and folded his arms.

“Nope. But I’ve found my way around by walking all these dogs. I take it you are?”

“Southwest London.” He replied. “Born and raised.”

“That explains a lot.” You snorted.

“Oh yeah? What’s that supposed to mean, darling?” He said playfully and pretended to look offended.

“Don’t worry about it.” You teased back. You looked at each other for a moment and Tom felt his heart aching in his chest. He had it bad, and he wanted more.

“So I thought I’d join you on your walk today.” He said as he picked up Tessa’s leash.

“Didn’t you do that yesterday?” You chuckled.

“Yes.” He realized. “But I wanted to come again. In case you got lost.”

“If you’re available to walk her, how come you asked me to come over?” You questioned him with playful smile.

“I’m leaving for work in two days. I wanted to make sure you were comfortable with her before I left.” Tom quickly came up with something.

“I see.” You laughed. “Come on. Let’s not keep the lady waiting.”

You put Tessa’s collar on and walked out Tom’s front door with him right behind you. He showed you a different route he liked to take to make it seem like there was an actual reason for him to be on the dog walk other than him just wanting to spend time with you.

“So where are you traveling to?” You asked as Tessa pulled you along.

“Atlanta for some reshoots.”

“Ooo. Fancy.”

“Do you think you could look after Tessa while I’m away? It’ll only be for a week. Yeah could stay in my house if it’s easier.” Tom asked you.

“You trust me to stay in your house? We just met yesterday.” You reminded him with a surprised laugh.

“But you know my brother and you have a friendly face. So I don’t think you’ll rob me.” Tom said as he handed you an extra key to his house.

“What if I was planning on robbing you and you just gave me a key to your house and the exact time frame you’ll be away for?” You teased him as held up the key.

“I don’t think a robber would’ve brought me muffins.” He pointed out.

“Maybe not.” You laughed shyly and returned your attention to Tessa.

“So could you do it?”

“Sure. I can spend a week with this little princess in your huge mansion.”

“It’s not that big. But thank you. You’re the best. I’m so glad you almost ran over my brother.” Tom joked.

“Me too.” You laughed. You fell into a comfortable silence as you walked beside each other. Your hand accidentally brushed against Tom’s a few times, sending sparks through the both of you each time.

“Does all the traveling you have to do make it hard to do normal things?” You asked after a beat.

“I don’t know. Define normal things.”

“You know, like, date?” You said without looking at him.

“Believe it or not, that was hard for me before I was an actor.” Tom chuckled. “Having to travel a lot can’t really take all the responsibility for me not having a girlfriend. I was born with that problem.”

“Oh, okay. I honestly only asked that because I wanted to find out if you had a girlfriend but there’s no way to ask that question without it sounding like I was hitting on you.” You explained and still never looked up at him.

“Oh. So you weren’t hitting on me?” Tom pretended to be offended.

“Not in this particular moment, no. I was when I bit the same side of the muffin, though.” You replied. Tom stopped walking about he had thought the exact same thing. You stopped walking too and he realized he may be reading too far into things.

“That was a joke, right?” He asked you.

“Duh.” You laughed, making his hope crumble away.

“So if you’re not hitting on me, why’d you want to know if I have a girlfriend?” He asked as he started walking again.

“Because I can totally picture you forgetting to tell me you have a girlfriend and her coming over to find me in your house with your dog while you’re not there to explain that I’m just the dog sitter. And then she would break up with you because she thought you were cheating and you’d get framed as a dirty cheater in the media which doesn’t seem like an accurate character assessment at all and it would be all my fault.”

“Well I appreciate the concern for the possibility of that very specific scenario happening, but it’s impossible. No girlfriend will be walking in to find you.” Tom laughed at your genuine concern for a made up situation.

“Good.” You sighed. “And me saying “good” is me hitting on you, by the way.”

“I thought so.” He laughed at the joke but felt himself blush.

“I’m glad you caught that one because that’s about as subtle as I get.”

“You’re funny.” Tom laughed. “And pretty, as we’ve previously discussed. But that wasn’t a compliment because I know you don’t like that one. It was just an observation. And this was my long winded way of asking why you never thought about acting?“

“I don’t know. It just never appealed to me. I belong here. With my people.” You said and gestured to Tessa.

“You do belong.” He agreed. “I think she really likes you. She told me.”

“She better. I’m about to be her mommy of the week.” You said and bent down to pet her.

“I wish you were my mommy of the week.” Tom whispered as he watched you.

“What’d you say?” You asked as you stood up.

“Nothing.” He lied.

You circled the block and made it back to his house in under an hour, much to Tom’s dismay. But as he unlocked his front door, he realized your time together didn’t have to end.

“Do you want to come in?” Tom offered.

“Yeah. Sure.” You smiled shyly and followed him inside. He took Tessa’s leash off and she ran off, leaving you and Tom alone.

“I’ll put the kettle on. You can put on a movie, if you’d like.” He smiled softly at you as he went into the kitchen. You gulped and went into his living room and tried to look as normal as possible as you sat on his couch. He came into the living room with two mugs of tea and sat beside you. Your knees brushed and you both noticed but didn’t say a word about it. You pressed play on When Harry Met Sally, a movie that was safe enough to make him laugh but wouldn’t require you to sit through any uncomfortable sex scenes together. Tom smirked at your choice of movies and wondered if you were trying to send him a message.

“Are you cold?” He asked and held up a blanket. You nodded and he draped the blanket over the two of you. You took that at an opportunity to scoot a little closer to him so the blanket would fully cover the both of you. You exchanged a shy smile with each other before turning back to the movie. As the movie went on, you moved closer and closer to each other.

“Can I ask you something?” You asked him as one point. Tom gulped and kept his eyes on the screen so he didn’t look as excited to answer as he felt.

“Sure.”

“Do you do this with all your dog sitters?” You asked. Tom took a long sip of his tea before turning to you.

“Yes.” He said seriously. You laughed and nudged him a little as he set his tea back down.

“So since you asked me some personal questions, I need to know a few things about you.” He said and turned to you.

“Ask away.”

“Do you have a boyfriend?” He asked you.

“Really?” You laughed. “That’s your first question? You don’t want to know if I have a criminal record or anything?”

“I don’t care about that. It’s not as important.” Tom waved his hand, making you laugh again.

“No boyfriend.” You shrugged. “No criminal record either.”

“That’s good.” Tom nodded and turned back to the movie.

“Yeah. You should hope the person you have a key to your house to doesn’t have a criminal record.” You said teasingly.

“I meant the part about no boyfriend.” Tom replied without looking at you. Your jaw dropped a little but you said nothing and turned back to the movie as well. Tom snuck a glance at you and smiled to himself. You watched the rest of the movie and by the end of it, you were sitting right next to each other as you leaned into his side. He shut the TV once the movie ended just as you got a text.

“Shit. My shih tzu. I have to go walk my next client.” You sighed when you read the text.

“Oh. You have to go?” Tom asked with disappointment.

“Yeah.” You frowned. “I can’t be late. He’s a biter and very passive aggressive. The dog is kinda a bitch too.”

“How bitchy can a little dog be?” Tom chuckled and took the blanket off the two of you.

“You have no idea. You know when you’re on your period and you see a dog and it shoves its nose right into your snatch so everyone around you knows you’re on your period?”

“No.” Tom said after a long beat of silence.

“Oh, right.” You realized. “Well this dog points it out every month. Even though I’ve said nothing about the time I caught him eating a dirty tissue. And that freak knew it was used.”

“You’re right. He sounds like a bitch. I definitely don’t want to put you on his bad side. Here, I’ll walk you to the door.” Tom chuckled and got off the couch. He put his hand on your back and lead you to the door before opening it for you. You stepped outside but stood in the doorway to say goodbye to him.

“Goodnight.” Tom smiled softly as he leaned against his doorframe.

“It’s like 3 pm.” You said as you checked your phone.

“Oh, right. Good morrow, then? I don’t fucking know.”

“I like that. Good morrow, Tom.” You laughed. “Safe travels tomorrow, okay? Text me when you land.”

“I will.” He nodded. A comfortable silence settled between you as you stared into each others eyes. Tom took a chance and started to lean in, and you did the same. Before your lips could touch, Tom chickened out and stepped back.

“Well, bye!” Tom smiled and slammed the door in your face. He immediately cringed and covered his mouth with his hand. Tessa came into the room and sat and stared at Tom.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He groaned. “I can close. I just panicked, okay? She’s so pretty. What if she didn’t want to kiss me?”

Tessa laid down on the ground and rolled onto her side. Tom sighed and bent down to scratch her tummy.

“It doesn’t matter now. She’ll probably watch you this week and then get out of my life forever. There is no way I’m coming back from that.” Tom mumbled.

Two hours later, he came back from that. Your name came up on his phone and he immediately grabbed it to answer it. It was a tik tok video about a dog.

“Show this this to Tessa. It’s so her.” You had written. Tom smiled fondly at the text and let out a sigh.

“What can I say? She wants me.” He told Tessa smugly.

“She laughed. Thanks for sending it.” Tom texted you back.

“No prob. So what time should I come over tomorrow?”

“Is 10 good? I would like to see you before I leave.” He wrote back. His thumbs danced over the keyboard and he decided to add more so he didn’t sound so forward.

“To give you the run down on how the week will be.” He added. He stared at the text and decided to add even more.

“And to hit on you.”

You laughed when you read his text and decided to tease him further. You only hoped he’d get the reference.

“I’ll be there. Goodnight!!” You wrote back. He laughed at you making fun of him and felt better about not kissing you.

“It’s 5 pm.” He replied.

“I know. goodnight :)”

Tom smiled and held his phone to his chest. He liked the way things were going and couldn’t help but wish he wasn’t leaving for a week. He was getting somewhere with you and worried that leaving would stop the momentum.

“Good morning. I don’t have muffins.” You said as soon as Tom opened the door the next day.

“Good morning.” He laughed. “That’s okay. I made you some tea.”

“Oh, thanks.” You smiled shyly and accepted the mug. Tessa ran up to greet you and you knelt down to pet her.

“So she already ate and went out. She’ll probably want a walk around noon.” Tom told you.

“I can do that. I mean, I will do that. That’s my job.” You laughed nervously and glanced at the doorway. You couldn’t help but think of the missed kiss and found yourself feeling awkward around Tom.

“I should be home on Sunday morning. Think you’ll be all right here?” He asked and put a hand on your arm. You looked at his hand and let out a nervous laugh.

“Yeah. I think I’ll find your giant home very comfortable. Even if it’s ten times the size of my apartment.” You replied sarcastically to cover up how flustered you felt.

“Good. But if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call me. You’re never a bother.” Tom assured you.

“Thanks. I will.” You smiled in return. You heard a car horn outside and Tom smiled sadly. He bent down to pet Tessa and give her a kiss goodbye.

“That’s my ride. I guess I’ll leave you guys to it.” He said and picked up his bag.

“Goodbye, Tom. I’ll see you in a week?” You said as you walked him to the door. He turned to face you in the doorway and felt the moment coming back.

“Bye.” He smiled softly. You found yourselves leaning in again but before your lips could touch, the driver honked his horn again. You jumped apart and Tom gave you an apologetic smile.

“Next time?” He asked you.

“Next time.” You agreed before slamming the door in his face to get back at him for the day before.

In the week Tom was gone, you had an ongoing conversation over text. You FaceTimed him often to let him see Tessa whenever he had breaks. Then, he started FaceTiming you even when Tessa was asleep for the night. To Tom’s surprise, you grew closer with him away. Your conversations went from being about Tessa to getting to know each other and by Saturday night, he couldn’t wait to get home to see you. He took the earliest flight Sunday morning just to see you sooner. When he opened his front door, he was disappointed when neither you or Tessa came to greet him.

“Well? Isn’t my girl gonna give me a kiss?” Tom called out. You heard this and felt your heart skip a beat. If he was going to be bold, you decided you could be too. You ran into the foyer where he was just as he was dropping his bag to the floor. You made eye contact and before he knew what was happening, you threw your arms around him and kissed him. The surprised look on his face when you pulled away made you realize you had completely misinterpreted the situation.

“You meant the dog, didn’t you?” You said as your arms slowly slid away from his neck.

“Yeah, I did.” He admitted. You gulped and stepped away from him and prayed the floor would just swallow you up so you didn’t have to live in this moment. To your surprise, Tom slipped an arm around your waist and pulled you back towards him.

“But I mean…” He trailed off and leaned in to kiss you again.

I’m dedicating this one to my dog! I miss and love you forever my sweet boy. Give your pets some love for me ❤️

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unraveled 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: A curious man wanders into your dress shop with a lot of questions.

Characters: Sherlock Holmes (Cavill)

Note: thanks for waiting on this one.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The carriage stops outside a brick building. A walk-up in Marleybone, just along Upper Baker Street. An address you couldn’t even dream of living near, let alone within. You peer up at the facade, the orange brick unstained by the coal and smoke of the backstreets. 

Gavin appears to open the door and sets a step down before you can emerge. He offers his hand gallantly and you let him assist you down to the road. You thank him as you peer up at the arched front door of 221b. 

“You need only knock, miss,” Gavin goes to pat the horse’s haunch as it kicks. “Ask for Mr. Holmes, he is expecting you.” 

You grip your bag tight and set your chin. You might not belong but only you are troubled by it. You climb the steps alongside the iron rail and lift the heavy knocker mounted on the thick wooden door. It’s clang rattles even you. 

You wait, both hands on the handles of the bag. Gavin appears behind you with the rolls of fabric, breathless as he struggles to keep them from touching the ground. You return your attention to the door as it opens. 

“Hello, I’m looking for Mr.--” 

“Holmes,” the very man you’re seeking stands before you, “forgive me, my housekeeper... resigned.” 

“Not to worry, sir,” you assure him. 

“Come in,” he backs up, gesturing you within with his large hand. “And how was your journey? I hope you didn’t come upon any scoundrels.” 

“Only upon her destination, sir,” Gavin japes as he steps in behind you. 

“Eh,” Holmes tilts his head at the driver, “allow me.” 

Holmes takes the rolls of fabric from Gavin. He hugs them effortlessly in on arm as he faces you again, dismissing the driver with no more than a nod. You stand rigidly by the wall, hesitant to go any further. The door closes and the click makes you flinch. 

“Allow me to show you around,” Holmes offers, looming in the tight space of the entryway. 

“I need only see your sister,” you insist. 

“Ah, yes, Enola, you will, but it only polite to get you acquainted with the space,” he rebuffs. 

“With respect, sir, I’ve come out of my way and without warning to this appointment. More work does await me at my shop,” you squeeze the leather handles until they squeak, “it is a lovely home, I’m sure, but I’ve come upon business, haven’t I?” 

“Yes, but it wouldn’t take very long,” he counters, “yet, if you’d rather keep this formal, by all means, I will take you to my sister.” 

“Thank you, sir.” 

You bite down, wondering if perhaps you were more curt than you should be. The apartment is rather far from your neighbourhood and the travel time alone will impose upon your ongoing commissions. You don’t expect he considered that. He does seem the type to command rather than ask. 

He directs you to the stairs, just across from the door, and waves you onward. He follows as your skirts brush the top of your boots with each step. The wallpaper is tightly decorated with framed newspapers and portraits, cluttered together but not garishly so. 

You get to the top and he advises you to go left. You obey as he keeps pace. 

“Did you... discover what led to that woman’s fate? Or who she was?” You ask as you take measured steps. 

He isn’t demure as he walks next to you, crowded against you as his broad figure allows for little space, “sadly, yes and no. Not her name. Only that she was a factory woman. I won’t say much on the matter as it is ongoing and confidentiality is a part of my contract, I would only gird you to keep your doors locked and yourself alert.” 

You chew on his answer. It makes you nervous. You know the woman was found close to your shop and home. The news has been whispered for blocks. 

“I will be sure to hede your advice,” you say. 

You walk past a door as he stops to knock on it. You spin back, skirts swirling around you, and he glances at you as he plants his hand on the door frame. There is activity from within, scratching and creaking. He sighs and stands straight as he slides his hand down the pillar. He raps with his knuckles again. 

“Enola,” he booms through, his voice shaking you. “I told you to be ready.” 

You hear furious footsteps and the lock flicks back with similar furor. It opens and a young woman with a slumping bun greets Mr. Holmes. Strands fall loose from the clip and her blouse is half untucked as her sleeves are rolled to her elbows. She has a long oval face, flushed as she shows her teeth. 

“I told you, I’m busy--” 

“Not so busy that you would waste this good woman’s time,” Holmes insists, “she traveled all this way. We discussed this.” 

She flutters her lashes and huffs. Her eyes flit over to you and she softens her expression, “if her time is wasted, it is hardly my fault.” 

“Hm,” he hums flatly, “isn’t it? It wasn’t I who fed your dresses to the furnace.” 

She smiles, a smug look that pinches her cheeks, “I was cold.” 

“Sister,” he warns dangerously, crossing his arms, his breadth wider than ever. 

“You know what, I welcome her company. Much preferable to your own,” the woman sneers and turns her shoulder to her brother, “come on, then. Suppose I need a dress for the banquet.” 

You inch forward. A flare of resent burns in you at the position Mr. Holmes has put you in. Plainly, this appointment was not upon his sister’s behest. She holds the door for you and her brother exhales deeply. 

“All you need do is stand still, I’m certain you can handle that, sister,” he rebukes, “do let me know when you are finished and I will call the carriage.” 

“Thank you,” you utter without looking at him. He sets the rolls just inside the door and backs up to watch you. 

You enter the bedroom and find it cluttered and cramped. There are books in stacks with more littered around the bottom. A dried-up paint palette and an easel draped over with several jackets and unpaired stockings. There is a four-post bed with scrambled covers and a canopy twisted around the poles. Vials upon vials line shelves and an inkwell stands uncapped over untidy sheets of paper. 

“Very well,” the woman shuts the door, “I am Enola, the famous detective’s ne’er do well sister and you are the seamstress who will make me a peacock.” 

You stare at her and swallow tightly. You offer your name before you begin, “I’ve only come upon his request--” 

“Ah, yes, I’m certain you have. He’s still trying to make a lady of me. I see through his guise, though he doesn’t think it. He underestimates me, see. He lies but I will go along for I will more easily avoid his snare if I do.” 

You nod and narrow your eyes. The wealthy can always afford to be so eccentric. You don’t think any woman you know would view a new dress as such a curse. She is young, she cannot know. 

“If you don’t mind, I’ll only take your measurements,” you offer, “I can always fit upon the dress form.” 

“Do what you must,” she sighs, “shall I strip down?” 

You put your bag on a chair as she unbuttons her blouse, “not-- if you--” You look up at her as she reveals a corset and reaches to undo her skirt. You focus on your bag and scoop out your measuring tape. 

You approach her as her skirt heaps at her feet. She is tall, her legs on long, her figure lithe. You begin your work silently. She raises her arms as you request and puts them back down. 

“Suppose if I wasn’t here, I might’ve become a dressmaker. I always enjoyed stitching,” she muses as you scribble down each number, “it seems lonely work. Quiet work.” 

“It’s work,” you say as you take out the envelope and unfold the page to examine the dress again. You hold it up and glance past it at Enola. 

“May I see that?” She asks but doesn’t await an answer before she snatches the paper. “Oh, is this really what he chose? No, no, no, this won’t do. I want my shoulders covered.” 

You slip the envelope back in your bag, “it is only what I was given. If you prefer adjustments, it is your dress.” 

“Yes, my dress and my body,” she crumples the paper and tosses it onto the rug. 

You close up your notebook and go to the rolls of fabric, “would it be too much for me to do some piecework?” 

“If you insist,” she pouts. 

You take out your scissors and turn your back to her. She isn’t rude, per se, but you’re not in the habit of associating with this sort of clientele. You get numbers on a sheet and you sew. A living form is not quite your forte. 

-🪡

When you finish, you can sense Enola’s agitated impatience. You don’t blame her. It’s plain she didn’t want the dress or your visit. It is more so upon the shoulders of her brother. Mr. Holmes. You’re similarly irked that he would put you in this position. 

Enola is already fiddling with some instrument before you can go. You emerge and pull the door shut after you. You stand in the hallway, bag at the crook of your elbow as you hug the fabric. You move with hampered steps towards the stairs. As the top creaks beneath your weight, your name is called from further down the hallway. 

“Ah, are you set then?” Mr. Holmes asks as he stops just outside a door, “I was thinking, to make up for your efforts, you might want to stay for tea.” 

You look down at your armful and back to him, “that’s very generous, but--” 

“I believe I paid an adequate fee for the appointment,” he strides slowly towards you, “but I am open to a barter if it was not sufficient.” 

You feel the heavy sovereign tucked into your jacket. You crook your lips and raise your chin, “no sir, it will do for today and the making of the dress. The fabric... I don’t have any as rich as the style requested.” 

“Another service I may require of you. If you wouldn’t mind to select the material, I would be happy to reimburse the expense.” 

“Would there be a colour? A fabric preferred? Velvet? Satin? Chiffon?” You prompt, “I solely work in cotton and wool, as I forewarned.” 

“Perhaps we might find a fabric seller at Covent Garden? You could accompany me on my next sojourn--” 

“I don’t know if I would have the time. I could write down some fabrics which would suit the silhouette we agreed upon,” you offer. 

“Mmm,” he hums, “you are rather professional. How about tea, then? Melinda from across the road sent some mutton over.” 

“The hour should see me back to my shop,” you shift your bag. 

“You are fastidious,” he stops before you and puts a hand on the fabric, “please, allow me, you are overburdened.” 

“I’m--” 

You can’t argue as he takes the fabric from you. You let him have it if only to avoid disaster you lean back on your heel. He angles the rolls under his arm easily and grins. A curl strays down his forehead. 

“I suppose you are right, given recent events, it would be best to see you home before the evening sets,” he says, “I would gladly see you home safe, miss.” 

He is overly polite, or perhaps you aren’t used to it. It is his home, he supplied the carriage, and he has paid generously. It makes each denial feel trite. 

“If you must, but I would be just fine on my own comportment,” you accept. 

“It isn’t any fuss, I will fetch a jacket and the driver,” he extends his arm past you, “after you.” 

You spin on your heel and face the staircase. You descend with your hand on the railing. As you come to the bottom, you wander towards the entry way and take in the fineness of the decor. Is much more becoming than your slanted rooms. 

Mr. Holmes places the rolls just beside the door and takes a jacket from the rack. He pulls it on and tells you to wait before he disappears outside. You linger as you are, sliding your bag down to your hands. 

When he returns, he reaches within to retrieve the fabric first. “Gavin is bringing up the carriage,” he declares and offers his free arm, “shall we?” 

You consider him. You wouldn’t want to be unkind. You step through the door, pulling it shut as you accept his bent arm, your hand in the crook. He accompanies you down the narrow steps, each step crowded by his. 

Gavin appears in the driver’s seat and reins the horse to a halt. The beast looks miserable. Mr. Holmes escorts you to the door and releases you to open it. He helps you with a strong hand and you sit within with your bag on your lap. He shoves the fabric in ahead of him, his head bowed as he fits through the small door. 

He closes it with a snap and settles on the bench on the other side of you. You stare across at the cotton, expecting he’d have taken that seat instead. His leg is on your skirt. 

You keep your hands on your bag. He knocks on the ceiling and the carriage rumbles into motion. You rock with it along the street, silent as you wring the leather handles. 

“I hope my sister did not cause too much stress. I know she can be a lot but she’s old enough now. She should start behaving as a lady,” he spreads a large hand across his thigh. “Perhaps, once she finds a husband, that will be easier.” 

You nod, uncertain of a proper response. 

“Not to mean... I don’t mean to assume, I am known however for my observations, and I have concluded you are not married,” he continues, “I gather if it were the case, you might not have a shop to sew in.” 

“Suppose not,” you reply dully. 

“It is only to say that my opinion of my sister isn’t general. A woman such as yourself is admirable.” 

“A spinster?” You supply. 

“I didn’t--” 

“I’ve chosen not to marry, that is true. I am not bothered by that fact,” you say, “isn’t that what you deal in, detective, facts?” 

“Fair,” he shifts on the bench, “but not everyone can detach emotion from facts.” 

“And why should I be emotional about that fact? I am much more happier than any woman could be with a husband,” you stare at the opposite wall of the carriage. “And I will assume, sir, as I am no detective, that you have neither taken to the altar.” 

He curls the fingers on his left hand, “I have not.” 

“And I’m certain you enjoy your bachelor lifestyle in your grand apartment,” you return, “while my own is not so extravagant, I find solace in it. On that, I think you might understand me.” 

He takes a breath and lets it out with a thoughtful hum, “I suppose we are similar in some way.” 

#sherlock holmes #dark sherlock holmes #dark!sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes x reader #unraveled #enola holmes #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series

[iateyourparents]

Hi!!! Could you write for Jake or johnnie? For Jake him and the reader are trying food in his car during one of his lives and he keeps spilling stuff and throwing it outside, or for johnnie it could be him singing to the reader during a live and have it be all cute? Thank you!!

wasted nights | j.w.

pairing: jake webber x fem!reader

summary: you can’t sleep and jake finds something to do for both of you.

warnings: the restaurant is made up by me, bad writing and grammar(i’m sorry, english isn’t my first language)

an: thank you! i decided to go with jake. hope you like it <33

pictures are from pinterest:)

“Jake?” you asked quietly to check if your boyfriend was asleep.

“Hm?” he mumbled while turning his body so you were face to face.

It was almost two in the morning and you just couldn’t fall asleep, you didn’t feel tired and your mind was giving you many ideas of what you could be doing right now instead of wasting time and just laying there.

“I can’t sleep.” even though Jake couldn’t see you with how dark it was, he just knew you were pouting and just an image of this in his head made him want to coo and hug you.

“Me neither.” he stated and after a moment of comfortable silence he offered “We could go for a drive.”

“Yes please.” not wasting any time you got up from the bed and went to take your hoodie, well Jake’s hoodie. Jake laughed silently but followed your lead. Soon enough you were sitting in his car driving through random streets.

After few minutes you offered “We could go live on instagram.”

Jake looked at you with w smirk “Testing food?”

“Oh my god, yes!” you loved testing food with Jake, it was always funny and somewhat cute.

Jake took his phone and gave it to you, so you could start live on his instagram.

Not even a few seconds after starting, there was already about 700 people.

“Hi guys.” you smiled widely trying to position Jake’s phone on the dashboard “We couldn’t sleep so we decided to entertain you a little.”

“Yeah, we will be trying food from somewhere.” Jake added “You can write in comments where do you think we should go to eat something.”

After few minutes of answering questions and looking through comments you drew Jake’s attention “Oh, Zola said we should try Orlando’s. It’s like a more elegant fast food, in her words.”

“Oh okay.” Jake nodded and you quickly looked for the location of said restaurant on your phone and then you gave it to Jake so he could drive you there. “Oh it’s actually really near.”

You answered some of fans’ questions while Jake drove you to your destination and then he parked near drive-thru so you could have a look on a menu.

“So it’s really late so we won’t take the whole menu but you can write your recommendations if you’ve been here before.” Jake told his viewers while you were looking at the website.

“I really want to try their apple pie.” you stated looking at the photo and then you showed it to the people on live “It looks yummy.”

Few minutes later you had your order in the car and Jake decided to park on a parking area near restaurant so you could start testing.

“What do we start with?” you asked giving him his drink.

“What do you feel like might be good?” he looked at you with a smile and kissed your cheek.

“Hm… This pizza smells good.” you stated and he took pizza box on his laps. He opened it and showed it to viewers.

“Smells good but looks are 4/10.” he decided and you definitely agreed. This pizza didn’t look the best. “Let’s try it.”

And let’s just said, Jake ended up throwing pizza, nuggets, two pies and milkshakes out of the car.

“At least fries were good.” you shrugged hugging Jake’s arm. He kissed your forehead.

“So we definitely don’t recommend this restaurant. If you like it then you have shitty taste, literally.” you both laughed “We will be ending this live in a moment and go to eat something actually edible but thank you for being with us.”

“But no thanks to the person who made us eat this shit.” you joked and Jake giggled.

“See you soon guys.” Jake ended the live and hugged you “Let’s just go home and make cocoa hm?”

“Yes please.” you yawned and buckled yourself after kissing Jake.

Soon you were in your apartment cuddling on the couch with Jake and sipping hot cocoa.

“We kind of wasted night for this shitty food.” Jake pouted placing his head on your shoulder.

“We did, but I could waste all my nights like this with you.” you pecked his lips.

You liked sleepless nights like this.

#jake webber x reader #jake webber #johnnie guilbert #sam and colby #snc #tarayummy #tara yummy #colby brock #sam golbach #jake