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#i don't like how the hair turned out but im love the dress
rafeandonlyrafe · 3 months
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good boy
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words: 1.5k
warnings: established relationship, marriage, protective!rafe, (guard??) dog, fluffy
“rafe, it's literally two weeks. ill be fine!” you say, folding his clothes, having dumped out his suitcase onto the bed to reorganize it when you saw how he packed it, just chucking things in.
“two weeks where im a hours away from you by plane.” rafe sighs, watching you carefully repack his suitcase as he pouts on the bed, not wanting to leave you.
“you know, cameron, i lived a whole 20 years before meeting you.” you point out, knowing while rafes concern comes from his love for you, it will completely overwhelm what is supposed to be an enjoyable family vacation and leave him miserable the whole time.
“i don't see why you can't just come with me.” rafe groans, flopping back against the bed. you smile and round the bed to where his head is resting against the pillows. you press a smooch to his forehead, rubbing your hand over his head, petting at his soft hair.
“baby, it's just for your family. you know that.” it's not like you don't want to accompany rafe to a tropical paradise, but you would feel way too awkward intruding.
“what if something happens to you? and im not here to protect you? id be the worst fiancee ever.” rafe grabs your head from rubbing his head, holding up the ring on your finger for him to admire.
“nothing will happen. nothing ever happens here.” you laugh. you're not sure what crime is like on the other side of the island, but your neighborhood is incredibly safe.
“im still worried.” rafe sighs. “you in that big house all alone.”
“im gonna spend 99% of the time wedding planning.” you hum, thinking about the tabs pulled open on your laptop of different venues, dresses, and color palettes.
that finally gets rafe to crack a smile. “can't wait to marry you.” rafe says earnestly. he only proposed a month ago, some people would say that you were too young to get married, but rafe knew when you came into his life and turned everything around for him that he had to put a ring on your finger.
“i can't wait either.” you bend down to press a kiss to rafes lips. “but seriously we need to talk about your packing before we tie the knot, why do you only have one pair of shorts packed for an island?”
-- two years later --
“remember those two weeks you left before we were engaged? it's not really much longer. you should go, baby. it's a good opportunity.” you are sat on rafes lap, back pressed against his chest as he scrolls through his email.
“it's just work, and it's a whole lot longer than two weeks. i don't want to leave you here alone for over a month.” rafe closes out of the email, making you sigh.
“i was fine for those two weeks, ill be fine now. promise. i think you should go! it's a big conference.” you turn sideways on his lap so you can look rafe in the eye. “besides, it's still six months away. plenty of time to prepare.”
“prepare?” rafe raises his eyebrows. “so you'd be good with security cams around the whole house and personal security?”
“cameras on the outside and hell no. you don't want some random guys watching after me do you?”
you can see the gears turning in rafes head as he frowns. “yeah, you're right. no men.”
“so you'll go?” you smile. rafe closes his eyes for a brief moment before nodding.
“yay!” you squeal. you're not excited to be left alone, and you love being around your husband more than anything, but the work trip is a big deal, and you know he'll be kicking himself if he misses out on such a good opportunity.
--
“rafey?” you call, eyes sweeping across the living room as you enter your shared home, a head full of fresh highlights.
“hubby?” you call out, continuing deeper into the house until you see movement through the glass door leading towards the backyard, but it's not the typical roll of the ocean against the shore.
“rafe?” you question as you open the door. you expected to find him in his office, where he was before you left for the beauty salon.
rafe smiles, waiting for your eyes to look down, and when you finally see what is sitting at rafes feet, you let out a gasp.
“oh my gosh!” you squeal. 
“wifey, meet max. our new australian shepherd.” rafe gives a command with his hand, that has max running towards you.
you sink to your knees as the young dog excitedly greets you, licking at your hands as you pet him.
“hi maxey.” you coo at the dog, you're guessing around two years old, with max being full size but still having some young features.
“rafe, you didn't tell me you were getting us a dog!” you stand up, max following close behind as you rush to give your husband a hug.
“i have a confession.” rafe says, his hands looped around your waist. you frown, worried that max was just a foster and you'd have to give him back, or that something went wrong with the adoption. you often talked about getting pets before getting married, but wanted to wait a little bit, and then time just slipped away and before you knew it, you were over a year into your marriage. 
“what?” you whine out.
“ive been working with a trainer behind your back. i wanted to make sure max was ready before we chose him for sure. he knows commands, me, your scent, our house. everything. he knows his primary responsibility is to protect you and our property.”
“oh my gosh!” you slap rafe in the chest, surprised that he was able to keep such a secret from you. “how could you do all that without telling me?” you laugh, not angry, but surprised that he was able to orchestrate everything.
you don't wait for rafe to explain how he was able to find so much time, stepping out of his hold to kneel down and continue petting max.
“we have some more training sessions so he can learn with you as well.” rafe further explains, also leaning down to pet max behind the ears as he pants excitedly at his new owners.
--
“what is it maxy?” you ask as he lifts his head up, looking around the living room. “you miss your daddy?”
you sigh as max lets out a sad sounding huff, petting your hand over his head, scratching at his neck which you know is his favorite. rafe has been gone on his business trip for a month now, with only a week and a half left until he returns home.
max suddenly jumps off the couch, eyes on the backyard. he lets out a bark, claws clicking on the hardwood floor as he moves to the glass door. he lets out another bark, making you stand.
“what is it boy?” you ask, looking out the window.
max lets out another bark, this one the familiar territorial bark that he’s practiced in his training with you and rafe. you know the only reason that rafe feels safe enough leaving you home is that max is a great guard dog.
you get closer to the window, squinting your eyes to try and see in the darkness when you sudden jump back with a scream as a squirrel runs across your patio, causing max to bark and run along the glass door until it scatters into the yard.
“holy shit, maxy, you scared the shit out of me.” you press your hand to your chest before kneeling down, scratching behind his ears. “it was just a squirrel.” you reassure him with a pat.
your heart rate is just starting to calm down from the fright when you hear the front door open. max instantly takes off with you following after him, letting out a sigh of relief when you see rafe standing in the foyer.
“baby.” he sighs happily, setting his suitcase down as you run into his arms, pressing your lips together. “i missed you so much.”
“i missed you too, what are you doing home though?” you ask, giving him another kiss before he can answer.
“they didn’t need me for the rest of the week, decided to get home to my lady.” max barks, making rafe lean down to pet him, still holding you up. “and my good boy too, of course.”
“so happy to have you home.” you nuzzle your nose into rafes neck, inhaling the familiar scent that you missed so much. 
“happy to be back with you, wifey.” rafe says, carrying you further into the house.
“oh, and you will be very happy to know maxy did a great job protecting me while you were gone.” you tell rafe. it mostly involved max barking in warning at any delivery guy or car turning around in your driveway, but his presence did help making you feel safer and less loney.
“hopefully not too good.” rafe huffs as he looks at your pet. “can’t have him replacing me now.”
you giggle, surprised rafe can manage to be jealous of your dog. “never.” you swear, pressing another kiss to his lips.
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astrorafe · 2 months
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don’t make a sound ⭑ rafe cameron
warnings ; car sex, fingering, rafe being rafe, dirty talk.
18+ mdni
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you were both en route to a charity event, one set up by rafes parents. rafe didn't tell you much about the event, only to dress nice, and that he didn’t want to go.
“im telling you baby, your mom just wants us to make an appearance, then you can go wasted with the guys,” were your exact words to help convince your blue eyed boyfriend.
he wasn't pleased that you forced him to go, but you definitely made up for it last night. “agree yo go with me to the event tomorrow, and I'll let you do whatever you want to me tonight.”
your words led to you being tied up, having 4 orgasms and as he would call it, ‘the best night of your life’
the man was a god in every aspect, making you feel things you'd never before felt. and as promised on the way to the event he sparks a conversation,
"do you think i can make you cum before we get there?" his signature smirk plastered against his lips. you quickly shushed him, nodding your head towards the gentleman driving the limo.
"the divider is up, the guy can't hear or see anything baby i promise" he said, hand trailing up your thigh, underneath your dress trying to convince you more.
"we only have like 4 minutes though," you commented with hesitation before fully submitting to your boyfriend, his smirk having you weak in the knees.
the pads of his fingers connect with your clit, starting off with slow, circular movements. his actions caused you to roll your eyes, biting your lip in hopes you don't make too much noise.
"no panties, huh? naughty girl" he raised his eyebrows and his smirk widened.
"i know you like it that way" you replied, receiving a satisfied nod from your boyfriend
"actually princess, i prefer you naked, but i doubt you'll agree to that right now" he muttered.
rafe started kissing your neck, nibbling and sucking on your sensitive skin. he slowly rubs your clit with one finger, fastening his pace, moans nearly escaping your lips.
he suddenly stopped his movements and sunk two fingers deep inside of you, causing you to bring your hand to cover your mouth.
"cmon baby, be a good girl. you know how much I love to hear you" rafe groaned in your ear.
you adjusted and placed your lips by his ear, allowing you to moan into his ear, only loud enough for him to hear.
"fuck rafe, it feels so good," you breathlessly moaned. “i love it when you touch me, makes me feel insane" you carried on.
he let out an appreciative moan, now using his thumb on your clit whilst using his fingers the exact way you love.
“good girl taking my fingers so well for me.” he lets out a groan at the way you shiver for him.
you felt the familiar feeling in your gut, tightening around his fingers.
"rafe, im gonna..." you started, sentence being taken over by a muffled moan. rafe absolutely loved the way you clenched around him, whether it be his cock or his fingers.
“atta girl, cum for me.” kissing your neck and fastening his pace, you clench around him one last time. “good girl, staying quiet for me.” your heavy breathing the only thing that can be heard between the two of you.
"just in time" he said, kissing the side of your head whilst pulling his fingers out of you. you hissed at the sensitive feeling, opening your eyes to see you were pulling into the parking lot of the club.
you straightened your dress as best as you could, and lazily combed your fingers through your hair, wiping away any smudged make up from under your eyes where you'd clenched them shut not 2 minutes ago.
"how do I look?" you asked rafe, turning your body to face him.
"like you deserve more than my fingers" he chuckled. you playfully smacked his arm at the crude comment, only after letting out a small laugh.
"you’re disgusting" you joked.
"say that again, and I'll show you how disgusting I am in the bathroom" he said, raising his eyebrow, daring you to say it again.
“i don’t think i have to say anything, we both know we'll be in the bathroom soon enough" you smiled.
the door opened and you both got out, rafe holding onto your hand to help you.
"you ready?" you asked him
"you’re here baby, im always ready"
⋆ ★ k speaks ⋆ ★
first work 😭, lowkey hate it and will def be going back to edit but for nowww here it is ! also reqs are open for anyone tbhhh i get bored lol so :)
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luveline · 8 months
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can I request aaron with younger!reader who isn't really an affectionate pet names type and she just ends up calling him bro out of habit and he's just,,, so perplexed and sometimes a bit annoyed like 'im not your bro I'm your boyfriend'
thank you for requesting ♡
You thought that having a boyfriend would be fun (true) but that the pet names were a bit much (kind of). No matter how hard you try, you've never been the type to call a partner baby. Sweetheart, handsome, lover, none of it calls to you. It's not that there's anything wrong with sincerity nor showing someone you love them, but pet names are clunky in your mouth. 
Sometimes you have to say something, though. "Dude! What is this? Are you serious?" 
Aaron has presented you with a box of pyjamas. Some people might think pyjamas are a bad gift as an adult, but you're genuinely thrilled. They're a present for nothing, I was thinking of you. I thought you'd like them. 
Not everything expensive is good, but some stuff clearly is. "They feel amazing. What kind of material is this?" you ask, running your hand up and down the shirt. 
"I'm not sure. If you like them I can't get you more. I can get you a pair for every day of the week, if that suits you." 
Is he joking? "Aw, dude…" 
"Not sure I like that." 
You lift your head from the boxed pyjamas and smile at him with gratitude coming out the ears. He's really quite handsome, emphasised when he frowns as much as he might think otherwise, the longer strands of his hair curled gently over his crinkled forehead. 
"Thank you! Can I kiss you?" you ask.
His hand is warm on your cheek as you stand on tiptoes for a kiss. He's not that tall, and your weight has him bending backward, frowning into a short kiss. You dodge back to investigate. 
"Everything okay?" you ask. 
"Fine. They had different colours if you want something brighter, but you liked the lavender underwear–" 
"Bro," you say with a laugh. "Don't say it like that." 
"What is that?" he asks, his teeth not gritted but clearly visible, his frown bordering frantic. "I feel like I'm going insane." 
"What are you going insane over? I'm confused." 
"I'm confused. We are dating, aren't we?" Aaron asks. 
You grip the back of a dining room chair, fingernails rapping against the wood. "Um. I definitely thought so, but is that not what you think?" 
"And you're not angry with me?" 
"Angry? Aaron, I'm really sorry, can you just ask me what you want to ask?" You talk with absolute sincerity, perplexed, a smidge worried. 
"Why are you calling me 'bro'? And 'dude'? I'm not your bro, I'm your boyfriend." 
Agitation tinges his voice. It's clear that he's asking out of frustration rather than confusion; a man at the end of his rope. 
You hold your hands behind your back. "I'm sorry," you say sheepishly, "it's a bad habit. I do want to– I mean, I've thought about calling you nice stuff like you call me, but I've never done it before. It feels weird when I say it, like I'm playing dress up." 
A familiar hand in a familiar place, Aaron's palm tender against your cheek. "I'm sorry. I'm not mad," he says quietly. "I was hoping some new clothes might inspire some affection, but I shouldn't force it. You can call me 'bro'. It's weird," —he laughs, meeting your eyes with a tentative smile— "but you can call me anything. Maybe less 'bro'. 'Dude' is manageable." 
"It does inspire affection. You know. For the record." 
His laughter turns knowing. "I'll remember that." 
You lean in for another kiss. He's smiling this time, his lips parted ever so slightly. 
"What do you want me to call you?" you ask, your breath fanning against his mouth. 
"I'd say whatever feels right, but you might start calling me 'man', or 'my guy'." He chuckles at his own joke, hand needling behind your back to grab big handfuls of you almost greedily. 
It's going to feel awkward. Now or never, you think. "Thank you for the pyjamas, handsome," you murmur, spreading your hand against his chest. 
It's worth it to feel him take in a pleased breath. And it really, really suits him. 
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bunicate · 2 months
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rambling abt diluc’s relationship with his sister from the maid, adelinde’s pov ♡ im pretti sure dis was an ask I received on my old blog too ! !
adelinde didn’t have much expected of her besides her daily cleanings and the occasional rotation of taking out the trash, but recently she’s been burdened with the task of looking after you.
you’re a troublesome girl to tend to.
she would never say it out loud or let her feelings show, but master diluc had you spoiled rotten. you were the only one allowed to disturb him in his study and demand the most menial things for the sake of his attention. 
you're often half-naked and oversleeping when you weren't bothering him.
she frequently dresses you, and brushes your hair so you could look presentable in front of your brother, and you would insist on only the shortest dresses and skirts. or flat out refuse to have your blouse buttoned all the way. she wouldn’t dare to speak out of turn, but your bosom was nearly visible at all times. 
she doesn’t acknowledge her master's subtle glances towards the swell of your chest, or his hand that rests too closely to your bottom.
you both were closer than most siblings. that she knows, the other maids all witnessed it but wouldn’t speak of it lest their master would catch them.
it was an enjoyable job, and it would be a shame to lose it because diluc caught their loose lips flapping away.
adelinde was quick to regard the interactions as siblings who simply cherished each other.
although you’re a handful, you’re also sweet and thoughtful, and she could see why diluc treated you as such. she often helps you clean up your messes from making strawberry tarts, and other little gifts that you give diluc. by the end of the day, you’d be exhausted, and each time she’d lay a blanket over your slumbering body when you waited up late for diluc.
she’d watch you until she’s interrupted by her master's arrival. 
“thank you, adelinde. you may go for the night. i’ll take care of her from here,” he’d say.
like routine, she’d bow.
“well then. goodnight master diluc.”
she would watch him slowly collect your body within his grasp, gentle enough not to disturb you from slumber. 
he’d pull back the hair that obstructs your face and adelinde could never forget the look of utter tenderness that seeped into his visage.
a certain kind of love unbinds the furrow of his brow and eases the tension in his broad shoulders. his figure would then disappear into your room, and that would be the last she saw of you both for the night. 
the next day when adelinde knocks on your door to come in, and you’re already awake.
your pajamas are revealing as always. a skimpy underwear and a strapless cotton top. your hair covers it, but she makes out the bruise on your neck, and she ignores it.
she tries not to appear uncomfortable when you walk downstairs in the same attire and diluc don't even seem phased. he just puts you on the kitchen counter, feeding you blueberries for breakfast.
touches and the palatable air isn’t enough to jump to conclusions, but she supposes she no longer had a choice anymore when she mistakenly walks into the living room and witnesses such a sweltering kiss.
her master trails his hands on the cheeks of your butt, groping the flesh while he buried his tongue in your mouth. 
adelinde is stunned at the sight. her master was kissing his little sister. 
a sensation she’s unfamiliar with runs down her body. his tongue is so much larger than yours, wrapping around your smaller one, swallowing your breathy cries. his hands cup your face, and it’s then she realizes how large those gloved fingers really are.
carefully, she watches them trail downwards, slipping into his pants to pull out his thickening and leaky member. 
adelinde , felt fear and a tinge of arousal.
he was going to insert his cock between your folds. your pretty silken folds, that sweltered with lust. his dick was hard and angry, and your body looked too perfect — too delicate to be touched.
adelinde licked her lips as diluc entered inside of you. your back arches and your tits jiggle from the comedown of his hips. he fucks into you at a rapid pace, and the sound of wetness on his cock destabilizes the maid's ability to react appropriately.
the moistness is audible between the slaps of skin and the loud cries.
the sheets darken with sweat and cum. your skin is bitten and then kissed, and your moans reverberate in the same room.
the air is hot and sticky and adelinde feels a knot in her belly. she quickly darts out into the corridor and begins to dread the following day. anxiety pricks at her skin at the fear of facing you both once more.
she knows that she’ll have to clean you up in the morning and face the dark truth about her master and his younger sister.
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mayaree-darling · 4 months
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Hi i've been binging some of your fics recently and im in love! I saw that you had requests open so I was wondering if you could do scaramouche x fem reader but where reader dresses in jojifuku or other known as cutecore and scaramouche dresses in a baggy 'cool' way and reader gets made fun of for dressing differently?
of scary dog privileges & matcha lattes // scaramouche (modern au)
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pairing: Scaramouche x Cutecore!Reader
synopsis: look, you may be a cute ball of pastels that can test scaramouche's patience, but you're HIS cute pastel lover. but if anyone messes with you, it's okay - his hands were made to be thrown.
from aree: for @amia-69: thanks for requesting and i hope this was satisfactory. i had too much fun with this so i hope you don't mind if it's a tad long with more scenes than you requested. i also made this a bit more feel-good by being a little silly but it’s still mostly serious, i hope you don't mind!
content: slight stalking and bullying scenario (be warned if triggering); very annoyed Scara means swearing; i'm in silly writer mode rn so this is a mix of crack and serious writing; slightly unhinged reader but hey so is scaramouche; praying this ain't OOC; fully accepted this is cringe; fem reader
fic length: 4k~ (unedited)
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Scaramouche isn't dumb. He can tell anyone who sees him is asking it in their head.
How the fuck did you two end up together?
There was nothing soft looking about him besides the hair he inherited from his mother. He was his mother but with sharper lines, edges, and words. His eyes were almost a permanent glare if he didn't look bored or annoyed at everyone and everything. He always seemed to wear dark clothing, accompanied by the right amount of chains or belts here and there to complete the look, but they suited him nicely. If anything, he wore them best than most. If he wore anything less than clothes that didn't hang off his body  he looked uncomfortable. Didn't mean he didn't hear enough older people talking about his choice of clothes though.
So when he first stood next to you on the fruits and vegetables aisle at the grocery store, he realized how you two stood at different ends of the fashion spectrum. He was there with his mother for their weekly food restock and ended up getting left behind when he went to check something on his phone (typical. How may times had this happened?) When he blinked, gone was his mom, and there beside him stood you, looking at a bunch of melons.
"This shit's overpriced, the hell." you grumble it under your breath, but Scaramouche heard it loud and clear. The snort he lets out isn't unnoticed by you and you turn to him, eyebrows raised. You look at him up and down before your eyes land back to his, and he frowns.
Goddamn it, here we go. He's heard his mom talk his ear off about the clothes this morning and he wasn't gonna hear it from anyone else. He opens his mouth, ready to cuss you to next Tuesday, but you beat him to it.
"I like the eyeliner," Scaramouche stares at you incredulously, and almost as a final nail into the coffin that he heard you right, you nod in approval. You tilt your head to the side. "I gotta say though. I think eyeshadow would look a lot better. Maybe... red? Just a bit at the corners. It would look a lot nice with your eye color and would make them pop considering you wear a lot of dark shades."
Scaramouche gapes at you. He's used to getting cussed out or getting the occasional talking to about his choices in life, but fashion advice was the last thing he expected to get from some stranger in the fruits aisle.
"Thanks..." he eventually lets out. He finally takes a moment to look you up and down and wonders how the hell did he not notice you sooner when you stood out from everything like a sore thumb.
Scaramouche didn't know there were so many shades of pink in the world. Or maybe he never noticed since he never wore clothes like that, and if he was honest, he spent time with people who didn't wear that color at all. Seeing it now was like a jumpscare, just a lot softer considering it's not like you posed any actual threat but slightly still as surprising considering people randomly approaching him first was so rare. If you weren't wearing a shade of pink, you were wearing some pastel shade of another color. Pastel blue, pastel purple, white lace here and there. The skirt you wore was so frilly you looked like you were walking around with a pink cloud. You looked... soft. That was the best summary Scaramouche could put together in the amount of time he gave you a once over.
You looked like everything he was not.
"I like... the frills," he inwardly cringed the moment he said it, but he ended up just frowning at you. It was your damn fault for putting him in this position in the first place so why the hell was he the one suffering. It's not his fault he wasn't good at giving other people compliments.
You laugh, and Scaramouche wasn't sure whether he should be glad you didn't take it to heart or be offended that he actually tried his best to give you a compliment only to be shot down. "It's okay. You don't have to force yourself."
Scaramouche just frowned deeper. Now it feels like you're saying he can't give out a compliment at all. He looks you up and down again and just says what comes to his head on the spot. "You look like the cotton candy sold at the fair across the street. Actually, I think you're a lot more pink than that stuff, but still lighter? Can't tell accurately with how many shades you got going on."
He must've said something good enough for you because you're grinning at him the next second. "That's one of the nicer ones people have said to me."
Scaramouche looks at you in disbelief. "How is that even remotely nice?"
"Well, for one, I know you mean that sincerely. Second, I'll have you know I worked hard to get pretty vibrant pinks that weren't too hard on the eyes, so thanks for confirming that!"
"You made that?" You nod, and Scaramouche nods back slowly in approval, actually impressed. "Not bad."
Your eyes land on his watch and you jolt, looking at the time on your phone. You pick a random melon even when he sees you scowl at the price tag and put it into your basket. Nodding once more to him, you turn around and leave. But as he watches you round the corner, you're running back to his side once more before he can even turn away. The sudden look of alarm on your face, so different from the grin and laughter you had on earlier, immediately has him on edge.
"Please help me," you whisper, but there was no one else in the aisle besides a mother and her baby at the far end. He frowns and looks to the side.
"Do I look like I help people." it came out harsher than he intended, but didn't he give you more than he was already willing to give any other stranger? Now you were just taking advantage of him.
"I need a scary dog right now," you said it so casually and seriously he wasn't sure he heard you right. But your voice echoed correctly in his head and he actually takes a step away from you, face incredulous.
"What the fuck did you just call me?" he scoffs, not sure if he was supposed to be offended or it was a compliment from you in some weird way. "The pet shop is right next door. Go get a dog there."
"Please. You know what I mean." you look at him pleadingly and he looks away. No, no, he was not gonna break first. This wasn't his business to deal with. He's done enough for people for the day. Nope.
"Again, go look for that somewhere else. Don't you have a boyfriend to help with this kinda thing?"
You roll your eyes and Scaramouche has half a mind to smack you silly. "If I did, you think I'd be going up to strangers for help?"
"So this is a regular thing, huh?" he takes a step back and you take a step towards him.
"Of course not, you expect this kinda thing to happen sometimes. But I don't want to hide away just ‘cause some people couldn't stay away and mind their own damn business," you shuffle from one foot to another. You cast a hesitant look behind you. His eyes follow.
"What are you even-" he stops. In the corner where he last saw you turn, a hooded man hovered over the bread aisle. For a shelf that only had five pieces of loaves left he was taking his time picking, so that only meant one thing. Scaramouche watched as the man glanced over once in your direction before seemingly turning back to the bread with fake focus.
"I thought I was imagining it. But he’s giving me the evil eyes," your voice is a whisper again.
That's unpleasant. Scaramouche straightened his posture and looked at you directly. If it's a scary dog you needed then so be it.
"What are you waiting for, then?" his voice was loud, not enough to be too distracting, but enough to carry over to the asshole who decided to be a creep for the day. Scaramouche kept his eyes on you. "You need anything else? I got the car running. Let's go if you're ready."
You look up at him like he was a fucking hero and Scaramouche all but does his best to not look as pompous as he felt. He sees the guy step back a little from his view, most likely thinking twice about following you when you're suddenly with company. He all but stares the fucker down until he leaves his line of sight.
Scaramouche breathes a short sigh of relief and he sees you do the same. He wanted to leave it at that, but if the guy was planning to follow you around the mall, he'd probably stick around a bit more. So fucking annoying. Not you, though. Although you were a bit annoying, you've probably been through more today than he had. He takes your wrist lightly.
"Where to next? I have family waiting outside."
You smile, relaxed and familiar. He holds your wrist, but you guide him around the store for a few other things before heading to the counter. When you leave the shop, plastic bags in hand, he motions for you to head to the parking lot and you follow albeit hesitantly, only visibly relaxing when you see a woman standing by a car who looks eerily similar to your rescuer.
"Oh? You have a friend." Scaramouche bites back the retort that almost slips past his lips. What did she mean by that? Of course he had friends. He'd never introduce them to her and her to them but he preferred keeping those two sides of his life away from each other.
"She had a bit of a problem and needed some help," she looks at you once and back to him. She gives him a knowing look but Scaramouche could swear on his grave that what she was thinking was vastly different from what was really going on.
"I see. Will your friend be joining us for dinner?" she looks at you with a soft smile and you return it. Scaramouche has half a mind to facepalm himself, he thanks what shred of patience he has left that he doesn't because you give him a glance.
"Thank you for the offer, but I should really be heading home," you turn to him fully and take the plastic bags from him. "Thanks for... helping me."
He opens his mouth but before he can say anything, you give him a knowing nod before quickly walking away. He watches you walk a few paces before he hears his mom clear her throat. He looks to her, already scowling.
"Don't tell me you're just gonna let her go like that?"
"What do you want me to do?"
Ei sighs. "At least make sure she gets a ride? If you walked her all the way over here, I can guess you wanted to give her a ride home. But that's out of the question now."
"Why are you so invested in this anyway? I just met her today."
"Oh, really? I thought you already knew each other." Ei hums as she rummages her purse for the keys. "You look like a pair. Not quite sure what kind, but definitely a pair of something. I think she’s rather cute."
He curses silently before jogging to catch up to you. He finds you standing by the bus stop. When you turn to him, you smile.
"Thanks for helping me again."
"You know I was planning on dropping you off at your place, right? Thought that was kinda clear with what I said at the grocery."
"Nah. I'd bothered you enough. Don't wanna bother your sister either." you grin at him, shuffling from foot to foot again, now with a pep in your step.
"First off, that was my mom, not my sister." you repeat the word 'mom' silently before looking at him with barely suppressed admiration, and Scaramouche barely holds himself back from groaning. "Second, it's fine. You're not scared that guy's gonna follow you home?"
"I'll be in a bus full of people. If he tries anything I'll scream my head off." you laugh. Scaramouche can hear a shred of doubt in your voice, but he doesn't say anything else. There's a pause of silence before you look at him from the corner of your eye and hum. "Y'know. I don't know how to properly thank you."
He waves you off. "Forget about it."
"How about I treat you?" you turn to him fully, like he just didn't brush you off. "I know a cafe by the train station that makes really good matcha lattes."
"What makes you think I even like matcha?" he sighs, but he thinks about it for a second. And then another second. Scaramouche blinks before he turns to you with a deadpan face. "You're just trying to take advantage of my scary dog privilege or whatever you call it."
"Maybe? Who knows?"you grin mischievously. "I'm serious about treating you to a meal, though. I owe you one. If you want you can just take the meal and forget about ever seeing me again."
Scaramouche sighs. Surely, it wouldn't hurt...?
"Alright then. When's our date?" You blink at him in surprise before laughing.
When people ask him how you two got together, he says you treated him to matcha for saving your life and you just hit it off. When they ask you to confirm, you excitedly show a picture of the two of you in the cafe of your first date. Should anyone try to mention the foam of milk from the matcha latte gathered around the top of his lips or the cat ears you had graciously edited onto the top of his head, Scaramouche is quick to silence them with a murderous look, almost the very same one he has on in the picture.
Some might think why doesn’t he just ask you to stop showing the photo to people? It’s enough for you to confirm that you got together over drinks, end of story. But as he watches and listens to you recount how you met again, the smile on your lips and the laughter that slips past and the grin as you show all the pictures - he can’t imagine saying no.
Why would he make you stop when you’re so happy?
That’s what he thinks now, as he sees the frown on your face.
He thought people already understood. He let you tell the story over and over even though it got on his nerves time and time again because it made you happy, yes, but also so people saw who they were messing with if they ever even thought of messing with you. This city was a small one - if people didn’t know him from his mother, they surely have heard of him and his friends. This city was the kind where word travelled fast if you were even in any social circle. If not for that, they would have surely seen him walking around with you with all the places you wanted to see.
He underestimated how dumb people could be.
matcha | are you close? Scary Dog <3 | give me a couple of minutes. Just got out the bus matcha | ok | um not to pressure u | can you hurry | just a bit | sorry
Scaramouche rolled his eyes before frowning. He pocketed his phone and all but jogged to the park. From a distance, he could see two guys in front of the bench he was sure was where you were supposed to meet. It was the bench he and you stopped at to exchange numbers, so it became a place that meant a lot to you. When he was close, the group of guys looked at his direction, snickering, before heading to the next bench over. Finally, he has a perfect view of you, your head down, holding on to your drink and phone like a lifeline. His drink almost lay forgotten beside you.
He quickly grabbed the drink from your side and sat beside you. From the corner of his eye, he can see the group of guys stealing glances at the both of you, not even trying to hide their laughter and sneers. He’s gripping his drink almost as hard as you were.
“You’re here,” you smile at him, but as quickly as it’s on your face it drops back to a wobbly frown and you look away. “Sorry if I made you hurry, I-”
“What happened? Did they do anything to you?” his voice comes out in a rush but it’s soft, as comforting as he can muster with the situation at hand. He can feel his blood boiling, his senses on high alert.
“No, no, they were just being mean and annoying and I-” you shakily pocket your phone and hold on to his hand. He can feel you shaking and he grit his teeth.
“What did they do? What the fuck did they say?” he was gripping onto the cup so tight he would’ve been surprised that it hadn’t broken yet if he wasn’t so focused on you.
“Nothing important.” he squeezes your hand, not enough to hurt, but to make sure you know that he’s here now. You didn’t need to hide anything from him. You just need to tell him. You look up at him and purse your lips. “They just said-”
He hears laughter and immediately whips his head towards the two guys, feeling absolutely feral. The closest one sitting on the edge of the bench flinches for a second, before he meets his glare with a sneer.
“I was wondering what kind of parents would leave their little princess walking around alone like that,” the guy smirks and Scaramouche can feel you flinch under his touch. “But another kid just showed up to pick them up. Where are your parents, kiddies?”
The two guys laugh and Scaramouche can feel his teeth crack with how hard he was biting down. He stands up but you hold on to his hand.
“Just let it go. Let’s just get out of here.” you mumble to him, but the guys heard perfectly.
“Let’s just get out of here~” the other guy copies your voice, all high pitched and mocking and everything that Scaramouche knew you were very much not. “She dresses like a little princess and sounds like one. Aren’t you too old for that?”
They howl with laughter and slowly, Scaramouche feels you let go of him. He looks to you, concerned, but you meet his eyes, your face blank but he knows that look.
Go for it.
With quick strides he’s right beside their bench. They stop for a moment to look at him.
He looks at the matcha latte in his hand and sighs.
What a waste of a drink. You got it for him, too.
“What are you- ARGH!” Scaramouche shakes the cup empty of all it’s content, making sure that each of the guys’ heads had at least a bit of the matcha drink. But Scaramouche was sure he got them both - it was a large drink, after all.
“Pick on someone your own size, you lil’-” the man closest to him goes to stand, but just as he does, Scaramouche raises his own leg and drives a kick right on his knees.
*CRACK*
The man screams in pain, forced to his knees and tending to his newly acquired wound. The other guy stands to try and help, but his form quickly falters as Scaramouche takes one step towards him, eyes blazing. The man doesn’t move, too frightened, as Scaramouche leans down to the man on the ground.
“There you go. Now we’re the same height.”
Scaramouche feels a pull on the back of his shirt and he’s ready to throw his arm back to punch when he sees you. He lets you pull him and you make a break for it as he hears the man crying in pain behind him.
Trees turn to buildings around you both as you leave the park and head to the city center, stopping only when you’re sure the coast is clear. You both take in large breaths of air after running for so long, but even the silence does nothing to make him realize the gravity of what just happened. That’s not the case for you, though.
“Oh, God, I didn’t think you’d do that. The drink, yeah, but...” you say between breaths. You take a shaky laugh and rub the back of your neck. “Was the kick really necessary, though?”
Was that necessary? Scaramouche knew the answer for himself. He walks closer to you.
Why would he let anyone destroy whatever you two had going on? You came as a pair.
"Scara, what are you-" he stops in his tracks and looks you in the eyes. There's a pause before he lifts his hand and flicks your forehead.
"Talk smack, get whacked."
"I didn't even say anything! And why are you hitting me?!"
There’s a pause as he runs his teeth over his lower lip.
“Hey… you.”
“Wow, I thought by now you knew my name,” you sneer at him. “You telling me you still don’t know it?”
He inhales before he says your name softly. You gape at him, suddenly aware of how serious he’s gotten. “You’re happy with… yourself, right…?”
“Of course I am. That’s not even worth asking about,” there’s a doubtful look on your face, but not because of your answer. Your apprehension stems from where this conversation was going.
“Keep being happy, then.” Scaramouche rubs the knuckles of your hand with his thumb before pressing a kiss to your palm. He smirks at you. “If anyone else says otherwise, a drink over their head and broken kneecaps are the least of their concerns.”
“Now, come on,” he doesn’t let go of your hand and you make no mention of it. “We still gotta stop by Nahida’s, right?”
==✿==|✧••❀••✧|==✿==  
❀BONUS❀
“Your mom’s gonna kill us when she finds out what you did.”
“Nah. She’d be fine with it.” Scaramouche scoffs.
“Find out what?” Ei appears by the kitchen doorway and looks at you both expectantly. You turn to Scaramouche, eyes wide with fear, but he doesn’t flinch or even stop chopping the melon.
“I poured a drink over some guy who said Matcha was acting too much like a kid,” Scaramouche answers easily, passing you a melon slice. “Also might have broken their knee, but we didn’t get to see.”
“I’m really sorry, Ms. Ei-”
“That’s it?” Ei leans on the kitchen counter and to your surprise, looks at Scaramouche with disappointment. “You should’ve broken a bone or two more.”
You blink as they continue talking about how best to have handled the situation; all their solutions involved hurting someone.
Well, you guess Scaramouche must have had to got it from someone in the family.
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✨ Masterlist ✨
Taglist: 💛@wonpielle 💜@shikanosn
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.
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talaok · 4 months
Note
I need angry love confessions in the rain with Pedro pleaseee
Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader
warnings: angst with happy ending, and no context whatsoever just feels and my overdramatic writing
a/n: im not sure this is what you meant but this is what my brain decided on
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"y/n stop!"
"No!" you yelled now, fully yelled, screamed at the top of your lungs, because fuck this, fuck everything, you were tired, you were fucking exhausted and you were done being kind.
Rain was falling like splinters of glass shattered all over the concrete, you could still hear the sound of laughter from the bar and his heavy footsteps behind you, so you fastened your pace, your makeup melting underneath the water falling from the sky and your dress drenched, but all you needed to do was run
"y/n wait a fucking second!"
"fuck off Pedro!" 
But his hand was already on your wrist, that never-dying feeling only he ignited still inevitably, annoyingly there.
"Listen to me!"
"No" you said, still turned away, like a child throwing a tantrum
"It's not what you think"
You could have run, you could have freed yourself from his hold and ran to the main street to catch a cab home, but you didn't, for some god-forsaken reason you had turned.
"I hate you" 
You could already tell what he was about to say from the look in his eyes, that fucking look, and those fucking words
The same ones you would have killed to hear just a day ago
"I love you"
You clenched your teeth, shaking your head
"yeah well good for you," you said "It's too late" you shook his hand off of you "you know it's too late"
"but it's not" he breathed "It's never too late, y/n I fucking love you" he sighed, his hair a wet mess all over his forehead "please, just-"
"no" this time tears almost spilling out together with your words "You've had all the time in the fucking world to say that. I've waited for you for a fucking eternity, for you to say that to me, for you to mean it... so no Pedro, you don't get to do this now" you cried "You don't get to say that you love me and make everything else go away, that's not how it works. It's too fucking late."
And so you turned, your back to him, an empty street, blurred by the tears staining your sight, in front of you,
I did the right thing
I deserve better
I don't need him
I just need to get home
"I'm sorry"
He was in front of you, his eyes glimmering, his chest heaving
"I'm sorry y/n" and in his voice was everything, the pain, the pleading, the desperation 
"I'm sorry," he said again, one of his knees hitting the ground "I'm sorry" and there went the other.
He was kneeling in front of you, taking your hands in his
"I'm sorry about everything, about making you wait, about how I treated you, how I let everyone else treat you... I'm sorry I didn't know sooner, except of course, I've always known" he paused, looking up at you as if you were a god with the power to take his life away in the blink of an eye, and perhaps at that moment you were.
"The truth is- the truth's that I'm a coward, that I'm an asshole, that I'm million different awful things that I'm sure you know better than anyone," he said "but before everything, before everything, I'm yours" he breathed, "my heart is yours, only yours, because I long for you, every moment of the day I miss you y/n, I think about you, I dream of you- you- you are everything y/n, You are my everything"
The thunderstorm around you was only getting worse, but all you could feel now were his hands grasping yours, and his words melting your heart.
"And I understand if you don't want to forgive me, I do, but I just- I needed you to understand... I needed you to understand that when I say that I love you I mean it, that without you I'm lost, that this feeling for you, this- this god awful, scary feeling isn't going anywhere, and no matter what you decide here now, I will always, until they bury me six feet under... love you more than life"
And what to do? What to do when he was right there, kneeling before you in the pouring rain?
What could you have done, what could anyone have done, with their heart racing and their brain a mess, but do the same?
So you knelt, you dropped to the ground to him,
and this time, he was there to catch you, your tears mixing with the rain as you finally felt his lips on yours.
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imaginecolby · 11 months
Text
the greatest thing || c.b.
summary: when colby comes home slightly drunk, he cant help but remind you how much he loves you.
requested by anonymous.
"are you sure you cant come with us tonight?" colby asked, stepping out of the bathroom. him and sam were getting ready for a business dinner, and he'd been begging for you to come with them.
"as much as i would love to get dressed up and go to a fancy dinner with you, i have so much work i need to catch up on." you sighed. you walked over to colby standing at the bathroom counter. he was dressed in a black button up with black jeans and he was slipping his rings on his fingers. "you're so handsome." you said, looking at him in the mirror. his eyes caught your glance in the mirror, and you watched his face flush. you giggled, reaching up to press a kiss to his cheek before walking away. 
he finished getting ready, and walked over to you at your desk, pulling you up from your chair.
"i hope you know that all im going to be thinking about tonight is you." he said, intertwining his hands with yours.
"good. i wouldn't want you thinking about anyone else." he laughed, closing the space between you.
"i wouldn't dare." he laughed, pressing a kiss to your lips. you followed him downstairs where he met up with sam at the bottom of the stairs. 
"we shouldn't be too late." sam said as they gathered their things.
"no worries. just let me know when you're on your way home." you said to them, and they both nodded. colby moved closer to you, giving you a hug and kissing you good bye.
"i love you." he said softly.
"i love you too." you said kissing him again. "have a drink for me." you smiled. he nodded and he and sam stepped out, you waved as they made their way down the drive way and down the street. 
you went back inside and started on your work, ordering yourself dinner. after a while of staring at your computer screen, you'd finally finished your work and were able to laze in bed. you'd ordered yourself dinner, and found a new show to watch and lounged in bed for the rest of the night. 
colby had been keeping you updated throughout the night, on the goingson at dinner, where the night was taking him and his group. he told you that they were finished with dinner and ended up at one of the casinos that him and sam frequented. he wasn't gambling but was having a few drinks.
you could tell that he had already downed a few due to the amount of spelling errors in his texts, which made you laugh.
you let him enjoy his night and turned your attention back to your show. as it got later, you were wondering when the boys were going to return home. just as you were going to text him asking when they were going to be home, you heard the front door open, colby mumbling something as he began trudging up the stairs. you paused your show once you heard him coming down the hallway to your bedroom. 
"mmmm, there she is." he said softly, stumbling over to the bed. he plopped down and crawled closer to you. he pressed a sloppy kiss to your cheek, causing you to giggle.
"colby, my love, please don't take this the wrong way, but your breath smells like hot garbage." you said, pushing his face away from you. 
"no, c'mere." he laughed, moving back to your side. he nuzzled his head into your neck and wrapped his arms around your waist. 
"stop!" you laughed, breathless, as his fingers began tickling your hips. you fought against him, your arms useless against his chest under his weight. 
after some time of you begging him to stop, colby finally rolled off of you and stumbled to the bathroom to change. you heard him struggling to change, stumbling around the closet. you giggled as you heard him curse after the third time he bumped into the dresser.
he finally stumbled out of the closet and flopped back down in bed, crawling into your arms and resting his chin on your chest. you began running your fingers through his hair and he smiled at you.
"do you know how much i love you?" he asked. his eyes were falling close, and you could tell that he was fighting sleep.
"pretty well, yeah. but i always like to be reminded." you smiled. you felt his arms tighten around your waist as he pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose. 
"you are the prettiest girl in the world. i've never met anyone like you and you are so incredibly special." he said, nuzzling your nose.
"i love you so much, sweet boy." you said, booping his nose. 
"i feel so lucky that you've chosen to spend your life with me. i never want to lose you." he said softly, laying his head on your chest. you continued playing with his hair as he kept telling you how much he loved you, and how grateful he was for you.
"i know im drunk, but i hope these feelings are there all the time. i dont want you to think that this confession is alcohol induced." he laughed.
"of course i dont. you've been very clear about your feelings towards me and i know how you feel. and i feel the same. although, sometimes i cant help but feel like you settled for me, considering everything you've got going on for you." you sighed.
"never! you are the greatest thing that has happened to me. because i know that you love me for me. i know that if the status and the wealth all went away tomorrow, that you would still be by my side." he said, and you nodded. you felt a tear fall along your temple. 
"i love you so much." you said softly. colby looked back up at you, a faint glimmer in his eyes. 
“i love you so much.” he repeated, scooting closer to your face. he pressed a soft kiss to your lips before pulling away and resting his forehead against yours. “so so much.” 
he scooted back down before resting his head back on your chest. you continued playing with his hair as he mumbled some more words of affirmation towards you. after a while, once he finally stopped talking, you felt his breathing slow as faint snores filled the room. you smiled to yourself, making sure that he would stay asleep before you fell asleep yourself.
colby truly was the love of your life, and he always took pride in reminding you of it,
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boydepartment · 5 months
Note
hellllloo I love ur texts so much!! can I request a text where the enha boys are maybe busy and you ask them for a favor and they drop everything for you (just them being whipped)
1-800- whipped
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a/n: OMGGGGGGG ANON TYSM AND YES OF COURSE! whipped is so like UGH i would die if someone was whipped for me
warnings- none :3
MASTERLIST
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jungwon-
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in the next few minutes jungwon was at your door, you laughed when you saw his hair all disheveled due to rushing. it was so cute. you both sat down by the coffee table and you opened up your laptop to show him the subject. while explaining you couldn't help but start gigging. jungwon turned his head in confusion. "what?" he asked, a small smile now gracing his features. "i just think it's cute how you rushed over to help me." the second you said this you saw jungwon mumble something and his ears flushed red. which made you giggle more. "okay so molecular biology-"
heeseung-
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heeseung had your location and saw you were at the library, he rushed over and saw you struggling to carry all your books and bags. "what's all this baby?" he asked as he started grabbing a few things for you. your eyes lit up when you looked up at him, "the library needed money and so they did a sale of books! i think i bought too many though!" you pouted slightly. heeseung smiled and pulled down his mask to peck you on the lips real quick. "i don't think you bought too much, i think its cute."
jay-
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about 45 minutes later, there was a knock on your appartement door and you rushed over. your socks pattering against the wood as you swung open the door you saw your boyfriend with groceries. you smiled at him and let him in. "thank you baby!" you giggled and closed the door behind him. "i picked up some fresh ingredients for your favorite." jay set the bags on the counter and turned around to talk more to you but you just tackled him in a hug. "i love you." jay smiled down at you and kissed your head, "i love you more."
jake-
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when jake got to your home you rushed him upstairs. he saw the lights you wanted to hang up in the loft for christmas. he put his hands on his hips and pouts his lip out. "baby i dont know if i can like..." you grinned at him, "oh dont worry!" you dug under your desk and pulled out a pair of heels. jake immediately grinned back. "oh my god okay! make sure to take photos too!"
sunghoon-
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sunghoon showed up to your hotel room as you came with them on a trip to film an en-oclock. you let him in your hotel room and he was really giddy to pick out your outfit. "is this for our dinner tomorrow?" sunghoon asked as he sat down. you nodded and rushed into the bathroom to change into your dress and jacket. "okay ignore that i don't have any makeup on! which shoes are better for this outfit? and should i wear a hat?" "you look beautiful!" sunghoon grinned, you whined and told him to pay attention. "okay okay! no hat and the black shoes!"
sunoo-
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you met sunoo at this cafe and sat down at a table. "okay my love! what do you need help with?" he asked and sipped his coffee. "i wanted to talk to you and ask you this in person..." you bit your lip, "my parents want you to come home with me for the holiday and it's really important to me..." sunoo's eyes lit up, "OF COURSE!" he spoke really loudly which gained attention from people. you smiled at him. "thank you, i'm sorry i got nervous and wanted to ask you in person!" sunoo grabbed your hand, "it's okay! i needed a break anyways!"
riki-
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you sat down with your coffee at the kitchen island, you decided to work on homework since your nails were not going to be painted today. or so you thought. a ring at your doorbell startled you, both your parents were at work, so it was a little scary getting a ring. you walked to the door and peeked your head, "hello....?" "y/n let me in im freezing!" riki mumbled behind his mask. you grinned and let him in. "soooo why are you here?" you asked as you followed behind him after he took off his beanie and scarf. "to paint your nails obviously, i even picked up a few colors..." he mumbled.
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erwinsvow · 10 days
Note
i’m definitely projecting BUT i genuinely feel like shy!reader would have wavy hair and be so insecure about it (even tho it’s so pretty) so it’s always straightened but i just know if rafe saw it he’d fall even deeper in love with the girl!
oh 100%. lets project together angel why not. if you dont have wavy hair pls look away im sorry. but i do have wavy hair that i straighten all the time so ! you sent this to the right bitch
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your hair, though you've been told so many times was pretty either way, is usually straightened several times a week, if not daily. it's easy to fall into the trap of preferring it sleek and shiny than the waves that were pretty for the first day, frizzy the next, and somehow constantly clashing with the outfit you selected for the day.
you thought straight hair was easier, looked better, went with everything. even if it wasn't true, you had bought into it for long enough, your blowdryer and flat iron your two best friends.
the first time rafe met you, your hair had been straight. it was that way on your first date, as well as your second and third, as well as every sleepover at tannyhill or early morning drive to watch the sunrise at the beach. he'd never seen your hair any other way, not realizing there was, in fact, another way for it to be seen, until today.
you and rafe had spent the first hour of the morning rolling around in his bed at tannyhill, working up a sweat, which then was washed off in the shower together. rafe gets out first, listening to his phone ring repeatedly in the distance. you finish up, washing your hair and turning the water to the hottest setting now that rafe wasn't there to complain.
when you walk back to rafe's room, he's on the bed, still on the phone. you try to dry yourself off and get dressed without giving him too much of a show, settling for one of rafe's old frat shirts and using another shirt of his to start drying your hair. he looks at confused, but you don't say anything, knowing he's still on the phone. you need at least a minute to explain cotton t-shirts and scrunching to him.
rafe finally hangs up the call with barry while you rummage through your overnight bag, realizing your flat iron and blow dryer were left behind on your bathroom counter, a result of finishing up your hair for your date yesterday.
"is sarah home?" you ask, looking up at rafe.
"don't think so. and didn't i give you a towel? why's my shirt on your head right now?"
"i forgot my hair stuff at home."
"oh," he says, walking back to his dresser and returning with something in his hand. "here." he hands you a hairbrush.
"what am i supposed to do with this?"
"you said you needed hair stuff. uh, you're welcome."
"i have a brush, rafe. i meant my dryer and my iron. do you think sarah would be mad if i used hers? is that weird, though?"
he didn't think it was that serious, but you look more upset by the second.
"what'd you need that shit for? we're not going anywhere until lunch. it'll dry by then." you stand up, taking the hair out of his shirt and trying to salvage whatever waves remained.
"i wanted to wear it straight for the club, though. my outfit, it looks better with straight hair-"
"huh?"
"and i didn't even detangle or use that conditioner, it's all at home. ugh." you keep scrunching, going to the mirror and taking a look. rafe follows behind you, eyebrows knitted in confusion while he takes a piece of curly hair between his fingers. it's pretty, the way it falls around your face and certain pieces are curlier than others. you look pretty like this, though he's sure you look pretty any which way.
"how come i didn't know your hair's like this?"
"um, i like it flat. do i have to go to the club like this?"
"i like it. s'pretty. c'mon, leave it."
you turn to face your boyfriend. like everyone else, he's just saying it to be nice.
"will you take me home to grab my stuff? please?"
"if you really want it, kid, but i think you should leave it," rafe says, bringing his hand up to your hair, stroking the pieces by your face, twirling a wave around his finger. "c'mon, for me?"
you hesitate, looking up at your boyfriend.
"but i wanna look nice for the club."
"the fuck are you talkin' about? you always look nice."
"but it's not as nice. it's messy. i like it-" rafe interrupts you, bringing his hand to your jaw the way he always does, squeezing tight but not too tight.
"stop. it looks nice. stop overthinkin' it. got it?" you nod. "s'nice. you should wear it like this more often."
"sure. whatever you say."
"that's right."
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partycatty · 4 months
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dark star!johnny cage > against the world
what it's like dating the evil version of hollywood's golden boy. it's not all fun and games, even if that's how he sees it
warnings: lowkey abusive relationship like just straight up. yandere. lil smutty but nothing horrifically graphic.
notes: listened to "wrap me in plastic" and "watch me work" while writing LMFAO also please god the coat stays ON ‼️‼️‼️‼️ hes so scrummy i need him biblically
masterlist &lt;3
part 2* / part 3* / part 4* / part 5* / part 6*
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•first of all, dark star!johnny is so incredibly emotionally immature. he's a whiny bastard fr. hell hath no fury like a white man that's in the wrong during an argument with his girlfriend
•"baaaabe what's wrong?? it was just a joke!" after he says you're a 6/10 compared to a model on his phone. ZERO awareness.
•WALL PUNCHER. IM JUST BEING HONEST. your beautiful pale pink walls have so many shoulder-height white patches from you having to fix the wall every time his water has an inadequate amount of cucumber slices.
•he's got the same upbringing as the better johnny, shitty dad and dead mom. he just never really knew how to cope with it. equally as famous as his counterpart, he prefers throwing punches in action flicks. he's just somehow more of a dick about it.
•pampered to holy hell between shots, all relaxed in his chair with his name embroidered on it while one woman tends to his makeup, another to his hair, a third feeding him water. it's how he wants it to be, he needs to be perfect. he is perfect.
•spends like two hours getting ready, most of the time is spent on his hair. you tell him it'd be more efficient to trim it down a couple inches but he likes the way it flops over. you also like the way it falls in front of his face during his stunts. he's just so effortlessly sexy.
•uses his height and physique to his advantage. he loves backing you into corners and looming above you menacingly to watch you squirm, flustered. his large sunglasses reflect your pathetic little face.
•now with you, he loves to show you off, but not enough for you to steal the spotlight. you're his favorite little accessory that hangs off his arm. he chooses your outfits when you make public appearances. INSISTS on matching all the time. misty blue dress with gold jewelry to match his obnoxiously large coat.
•the good johnny plays things up for the camera and saves the sweetness for behind closed doors. dark star!johnny doesn't know when to turn off "camera mode." bro will not be sweet with you unless it gets him brownie points after he fucks up.
•he's so unfair. women fawn over him constantly and he smiles all smugly and leans into their touches. but if a man so much as looks at you for more than a couple seconds, he's beating the guy in moments.
•hates it when you find joy in other people. he will constantly fill you with thoughts that everyone will leave you one day for one reason or another, and that you should feel lucky that a world famous actor wants you.
•will make you turn against people you hold dear, he cuts them out of your life so they can't influence you like he does. this man is a smooth talker and hardcore manipulator that'll leave you anxious when you talk to anyone but him. he has you thinking everyone's out to get you.
•"come on baby, you really think they'd love you like i do? don't be delusional. it's just you and me against the world, you got it?"
•you guys have had so many public scandals, you're the main source of income for the TMZ employees.
•sex tape here, public screaming match there
•speaking of which this dude FUCKS. HARD. :3
•johnny will literally pound you into oblivion whenever he pleases. he prefers doggystyle so he can use your hair as leverage. sometimes he reaches forward and holds your jaw, chest pressed against your back as he mercilessly fucks you. he totally gets himself off on your pathetic moans.
•records it every time. partially to jerk off to later, partially as leverage against you.
•"you like that?" he'll ask in that low growl, somehow hitting even deeper. "nobody can fuck you like i do. so don't even fucking think about leaving - ngh -"
•after an argument, you'll find gorgeous purses or necklaces on your shared vanity. not because he's sorry, but because he knows you'll forget about how annoying he can be when he shells out a couple thousand on a gift for you.
•you could honestly probably do better, but who's gonna say no to johnny cage?
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driaswrld · 6 months
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one night only! — gojo satoru and geto suguru.
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wc : 2.1k
summary : fem!reader goes to a club with shoko to be free from her scary guard dog besties, satoru and suguru show up anyway, just a bunch of intimacy really. maybe one lil suggestive part w satoru?? mention of wlw shoko and possible insinuation of stoner geto lmao
part of : the star paradox collection.
notes : i headcanon poly satosugu as often toeing the line between platonic love and romantic love bcus these three idiots rlly can't tell the diff sometimes. also shoko is gay and is my gf don't @ me. also this is ooc of how satoru and suguru would be at a club cs lets be fr satoru would be an emotional drunken mess while suguru is in the bathroom smoking or smth
other : im having so many teenage romance thoughts ab poly satosugu. also this was kinda inspired by a poly marauders fic i read agesss ago
current casette : i was never there - the weeknd. me and your mama - childish gambino.
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You can feel the bass of the music in your throat, your heartbeat racing to catch up with it.
Parties like these only had one common thread : brainless, brainless fun.
“That one over there,” Shoko murmurs against your ear as discreetly as she can, but just as loud as for you to hear her over the thumping music inside the club. Your gaze moves from the sequin strap across Shoko’s shoulder and over to a girl across the way, a redhead, leaning against the bar and knocking back an expensive looking drink. “She’s pretty.” You turn your head to Shoko’s ear.
Satoru and Suguru have been… hovering these past few weeks.
You love them, truly, the bestest best friends anyone could ask for. But two popular conventionally attractive men by your side at all times? It does put a damper on your love life. Shoko would be able to understand your point of view — if she wasn’t playing for the other team at least.
The redhead looks over her shoulder out at the mass of bodies on the dancefloor, the dark blue dress she has on really accentuates her figure — among other things. “You should go tal–” Before you can finish, Shoko’s mouth is agape, eyes fixed on the girl, and being the wingwoman that you are, you shove her forward a little. “Talk to her.”
“You sure?” Shoko wobbles forward, tipsy but sober enough to take a pretty girl home. The neon lights inside the club flash pink and blue then red and green then pink and—
“I don’t wanna abandon you, name.” You only laugh at Shoko, giving her two firm thumbs up, nudging her forward again, and still, she stands there contemplating. That is, until the redhead turns around and locks eyes with Shoko.
Oh, she’s far gone already.
“Don’t leave my peripheral.” Shoko kisses the side of your cheek and begins to saunter off, just as the song playing in the club changes to a softer, more sensual song.
There’s something about parties. Something that gives you the uneasy feeling two specific people could pop up at any time – two people you’re trying very hard to make clear to that you’re your own woman.
What makes a grown man wanna cry?
You slide back to the spot on the dancefloor you and Shoko shared moments ago, and with a sigh of near relief, you let the music transcend you to a different realm. Your body sways among the masses, a tinge of alcohol probably clouding your judgement because on any other occasion you’d find dancing in public embarrassing—
When it’s time, when it’s time, when it’s time, it won’t matter
There’s a sense of complete euphoria that washes over you, and before you know it, a slender arm snakes around your waist. And despite your better judgement, you know who it is before you look over your shoulder.
It’s an eerily intimate thing, feeling the chill of the six eyes raking over you.
You’re sure Suguru must be the only other person to feel how it feels, the goosebumps that rise on your flesh, hair standing on end. But not in fear. In something else entirely—
“You’re so pretty.” Satoru whispers against the edge of your ear. He doesn’t sound drunk. At the very least he barely sounds tipsy, just a small slur of speech in between, and you look over your shoulder at him.
“Prettier than you?” You stop moving and let out a laugh, and he goes brainless. Crystalline orbs stare down at you, and he pulls your body flush against him, pressing his body into yours from behind.
“Don’t stop,” he mumbles and your body sways, resuming with the rhythm of the blaring music. A whisper of the lyrics leaves his mouth, and you nearly forget how he knows the song — must’ve been in one of Suguru’s playlists. One of those playlists he keeps.
“Satoru—” you’re about to scold him, maybe tell him this is a thin line, one you’ve been toeing for too long.
Satoru brings his other arm around your waist, both his hands meeting in accord atop the flesh of your stomach. He waits for a beat, waits for you to tell him no, but it never comes.
I’m on the edge of something breaking
His head dips to your height, his hair tickles the back of your neck. You can feel the heat from his lips on your skin as he hums along to the lyrics. “Just feel it for a little...” He whispers.
Even in his tipsy but not-so-tipsy state, he knows exactly what he's doing. You think, maybe he’s always known. At least in body but not in mind.
If I keep going I won’t make it
A sigh escapes your lips, something akin to a breath of relief, like a weight lifts off your shoulders.
Satoru’s body grinds forward onto you, and your head tilts back onto his chest, a mouthful of lyrics leaving your mouth in a gasp. “Feels good, yeah?” He grins down at you, pleased, his voice a bit off-key in a more Satoru-like fashion.
“Didn’t know you knew the song,” the words leave your lips as you both lock eyes. He rolls his eyes and sinks his teeth into the exposed flesh of your shoulder playfully.
“Suguru plays it all the time—” He replies, then continues to hum along with the song, his voice barely sounding like his own. “It’s too sexy to not know.”
There’s a sense of comfort in not knowing the depth of what you feel in this moment.
Satoru spins you around to face him, and the breath leaves your lungs. And the moment in between knowing what your relationship is and not knowing all but fades to black.
And with the way he looks into your eyes, and leans forward, you think he just might break the line two.
And it’s all because of you—
The song fades out, to a more upbeat one, and Satoru’s hands fall limp at his sides. Suddenly, you remember how to breathe. And you swallow the lump in your throat, all while he gives you the signature goofy grin you’ve come to cherish.
You turn your head to look across the mini crowd, and Shoko is still there, one arm slung around the redhead as they both knock back shots.
Temporary. It’s no big deal, you and Satoru were just tipsy.
But that sense of relief is short-lived.
Embarrassingly so.
“Boo.” A sharp exhale leaves your lips as soon as you turn your head, and instead of Satoru staring down at you, your view is blocked by Suguru.
You look at him like a lost child, and he rears his head away to laugh at you. “Don’t look so scared, name.” He smirks, slyly, like Suguru always does when he’s taunting.
“You dumbass—” You breathe, a hand colliding with the edge of his shoulder in a soft shove and Satoru can’t help but laugh at the sight before him.
Then, Suguru’s fingers wrap around your wrist, two, then four then he’s tugging you forward, straight into him and Satoru. “Don’t be so mean to me, you’ll break my heart.” He says it so condescendingly, with such a smile that makes your heart leap at your current predicament.
Satoru really wasn’t done. He just brought in reinforcements.
“As if—” You grumble, and the lights dim for a second before flashing a neon purple. And that’s all the time Satoru and Suguru need.
“—I have a heart?” Suguru towers over you, and he bends his knees just a little, resting his chin against your shoulder so you can hear him. “Or as if you could break it?”
You think Suguru’s been smoking. The warmth of his breath against your bare skin makes you shiver a little. You think you feel a little dizzy just from looking at him.
The way his eyes are downcast, eyelids heavy, like he’s bordering on the precipice of eternal sleep or the best dream he’s ever had, one he doesn't want to wake from.
He looks at you like you're the latter rather than the former.
Satoru swings his hand forward, interlocking his fingers with yours, pale slender digits finding purchase between yours as he moves to your side. “As if to both.” He rolls his eyes, and Suguru lets out a soft whistle, “You’re so cold, Satoru.”
The song playing begins to fade out, and Suguru takes advantage of the few seconds before the song switches, that small gap of silence, and he whispers, “Dance with us..?”
“Duh.” You grab ahold of Suguru’s hand with your free one, all while Satoru’s grip on your other hand tightens just a little. “Who else would I dance with?”
These things are no secret, never have been and never will be. And you have a funny feeling you know why your love life remains so stagnant.
How does the old age thing go? Never let your girl have a boy bestfriend. Or worse, two.
The three of you saunter to the middle of the dancefloor, the neon lights flashing shades of blue.
And if you didn’t know better, you’d say whoever the DJ is, they’ve got a sick sense of humor.
Because they manage to play the most romantically erotic song you could ever hear in a club setting. Ironically, a song you recognize from your playlist — no doubt you learned it from one of Suguru’s tracklists. A very extensive one titled with a leaf emoji.
I’m in love when we are smoking that—
Suguru’s arm moves to wrap around your waist from in front, and he tugs you close as the soft tempo reverberates through the room. He shrugs some of his hair off his shoulder, dark eyes finding yours and he doesn’t dare look away for a second.
Suguru must think you're a pipe dream. That you’ll disappear if he blinks.
Your bodies rock from side to side and Satoru doesn’t let go of your hand, instead he slides behind you, following the rhythm you and Suguru have set in tune, raising your intertwined hands to his lips, and for a moment he uses them as a makeshift microphone to sing—
La-la-la-la-la
Suguru grins and he presses his chin atop your head, his other arm coming around to hug you close to his chest, while Satoru meets you both halfway, and it’s really just a sandwich swaying side to side with you in the middle.
I’m in love when we are smoking that—
What initially started off as something so simple, you coming to a club with Shoko wanting to finally get laid since your best friends managed to scare all the guys off — has turned into something so soft, so intimate.
There are never many words, never much explanation when you’re with Satoru and Suguru.
And it’s clear none of the three of you know what this is or where you stand. But for now, that’s okay.
La-la-la-la-la
“You okay?” Suguru dips his head to mumble into your ear, and you nod, words failing you.
In truth, you’ve never felt so soft, so safe yet so… vulnerable. But that’s also okay.
Satoru cranes his neck and leans his body over yours to look between you and Suguru, having not heard a thing. “You two okay?”
And you laugh. Suguru does too.
Suguru’s arms around you keeps you grounded against him, and Satoru’s weight against your back keeps you firm between them. “If you need us to stop… if you need a drink I can—” Suguru tries, but you cut him off with a soft pat to his shoulder.
“Don’t stop,” you mimic Satoru’s words from earlier as your own into Suguru’s chest and he melts. “Yeah?” He whispers.
“Yeah.” You affirm, and he nods, his chin going back to rest atop your head. And you wrap a free arm around Suguru’s middle, the other still softly interlaced with Satoru’s at your side. “M’ happy here.”
“In the club?” Suguru asks, albeit a little louder so you can hear him an amused smile slipping onto his features. “No, just—” Your words fail you. But this, there can’t be any intent without feeling, true unbiased feeling.
And you feel it, coursing through you in soft waves for them.
That unbiased wavy feeling, almost like you’re floating. That feeling for them. Though you don’t quite know what to call it yet.
“Here,” you mumble and a smile stretches onto your face. “With you, and Satoru too.”
Suguru stops swaying a bit, and at the change in movement Satoru stops too, peering over your shoulder to see what’s happening.
But Suguru only grins a little. “I’m happy too,” he says. Then he glances at Satoru, and Satoru glances to you. “I guess if you two are so happy, then me too.” Satoru chuckles.
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yanderestarangel · 1 month
Note
hello! i saw you write for batman n wanted to request. i dont care what version of batman it is-but my idea is being bruce waynes boyfriend (ftm reader), n' hes just so stressed out from being batman and having to keep villains at bay. so reader is basically used as bruce's stress relief! for kinks maybe: size kink, praise or degradation im not picky, rough sex, overstimulating reader, and whatever else fits! thank you-!
TW: Batman ( 2022 ), v!sex, overstimulation, rough sex, face fuck, dom!bruce, mask kink, fingering, degradation, afab anatomy, praise, ftm reader, vulnerable!kink, size!kink, porn plot, hard smut.
A/N: My first Batman request omg, Thank you for asking, I've been wanting to write about this man for a long time, I put my favorite Batman ૮ (ㅅ´ ˘ `) ᳝ ° ♡ ˙
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It had been a month since your boyfriend had taken a break from his duty to fight crime in Gotham ── He was too tired, and the stress was noticeable in the way his jaw flexed harshly with each new call from a villain unleashed on the streets. You insisted many times that the batman just rest a little, but he always replied tensely: "it was his obligation."
But it was slowly killing him... And you needed to act soon before he had a nervous breakdown.
So when you saw your boyfriend walk through the door of Wayne Manor still dressed in his black night watchman's attire you greeted him completely naked making Bruce practically choke on his own saliva in surprise ── before any protest came from his lips you told him he could using you as an escape valve, a relief for everything that was accumulating inside him, you saw his blue eyes shine with practically every sweet and worried word that came out of your throat; a mix of love and animal dominance radiated from the man.
"Are you sure? When we started... We won't be able to stop until I speak." Bruce spoke calmly, his gloved hands were already running down and up your body, squeezing your bare ass as he grunted softly as he felt his cock stretch painfully in his pants ── a clear sign of raw need, and when the "yes" coming from you was heard The millionaire wasted no time in pinning you against his larger body and giving you a violent kiss, your tongues fought for control, radiating a heat that you both missed.
He soon broke the kiss when he saw you rubbing your pussy on his muscular thigh and leaving a wet trail on his battle suit.
"You want this... You like it, don't you?" He growls softly in his ear before applying enough pressure to your clit for you to scream in pleasure, he let go of that, forcing you to look at him while holding your face.
"Am I turning you on, little boy?" There was an undeniable hunger in Bruce's deep voice as he let go of your face and pulled you away from his thigh, he just lowered his pants enough for you to see his cock spring out already dripping precum from the pink tip.
"You're a shitty little whore, aren't you baby boy? How excited are you for this?" The batman growled softly, roughly pinning you to the nearest solid surface ── you were in a vulnerable position, your ass raised in the air as you felt his thick fingers grab a handful of your hair and his other hand came up against yours moisture opening your labia. He took off his leather glove while his bare fingers went down to your swollen and pulsating clit, watching you tremble and sputter with just his small touches.
"Calm down pretty boy, I've barely started and you're already falling apart? Such a dumb boy for a good dick, aren't you?" He mocked as he continued the rough administrations on your body ── he was treating you like a sex toy handling you like a rag doll easily and you loved every second of it, the taller man was animalistic as he made you submissive to him.
"What beautiful sounds you make, open your legs wider, little slut, come on."
He speaks sharply, grabbing your thighs, thrusting your hips even more towards him ── your breasts hurt against the cold wooden surface of the room but Wayne didn't care, not at that time, he just focused on making you sore enough.
He felt the stress go away every time you begged him to fuck you soon.
"Fuck- you look so hot like this..." Bruce stroked his own cock as he watched you drool and sob from being sore from all his stimulation. With a growl of need, he grabbed you tightly by the waist and pulled you up until your cunt lined up perfectly over his hard tip.
"You're going to take this like a big boy, aren't you?" You gasp as he slides inside you, ── His cock feels so good inside you like your body was custom made for him. He pushed into you, burying himself up to the hilt, causing you both to let out a collective moan.
You could look back and see your boyfriend's face covered by the mask──his lips open with each brutal thrust with the strength of his hips. The sound of wet flesh and lustful sounds filled the empty space of the mansion, you were a needy mess grinding against each other.
"Fuck yes- such a good boy taking my dick like a fucking champ. Holy fuck- Can you really handle me...You're so small and fragile, but you handle my dick so well- A dirty whore is what you are." He took every part of your pleasure and pain, setting an intense pace, he was fucking you like his life depended on it.
Every thrust was deliberate and possessive he was marking you as his with every movement. His hips moved forward with a dominant force, sinking deeper into your velvety heat ── but he wasn't going to cum inside you, not this time.
He came out of your hole in an erotic snap, slapping your ass hard. "On your knees boy, I'm going to cum on that pretty face of yours."
You obeyed quickly, ignoring your own needs to satisfy his desires ── your knees touched the cold floor as you looked up watching Bruce masturbate a few times and spill the hot, sticky liquid all over your face ── he let out a loud moan feeling the knees buckle as he saw you completely painted with his seed, an image he had forgotten what it was like to have, you on your knees facing him with your breasts bouncing with every breath your pussy throbbed from the denial of an orgasm and his thick cum ran down your pretty face.
It was like his personal paradise was finally at peace again; One of his hands went to your hair, giving small caresses to the top of your head.
"Good job baby boy. You really are a good boy to me."
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mrsmikaelsxn · 8 months
Text
Muggle Activities
masterlist
pairing: tom riddle x female reader
warnings: fluff, kissing, a snippet of protective/jealous tom
summary: you finally convinced tom to go to a carnival with you
a/n: guyss i have a small something planned when i get just a few more followers and im excited :) also i have no clue what the cost of the wristbands are so i just made up a price.
song: best song ever - one direction
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"I cannot believe I agreed to this," Tom aggressively sighs.
"You did it because you love me." You stand on your tippy toes and kiss his cheek.
He lowly grumbles something along the lines of, "Yeah, yeah."
You were wearing a pastel blue, knee length sundress. Along with a matching pastel blue ribbon holding your hair back behind your head.
Tom was dressed in black dress pants and white button up. His put his hands in his pants pockets and you grabbed his elbow, pulling him to the ticket stand.
The elder woman looks at you two, "Hello."
You smile at her and fidget with one of the rings on Tom's finger. "Hi! Um, may we please have two wristbands?"
"Sure, that'll be $65."
You go to take the money from your purse but Tom grabs your wrist and shakes his head. He pulls his wallet out and hands her the money.
Before you came, you and Tom went to change some of your wizard currency into muggle money.
You sigh and look at him, "Why do you never let me pay. I feel bad, you're always spending money on me."
He leans over as the lady moves to grab the wristbands. "Who's to say I don't enjoy spoiling you, darling?"
You blush and mumble, "Well, thank you."
"Alright, here you go, enjoy."
You thank the woman and excitedly move away from the stand to put the bands on. "May I see your wrist, sir?"
"Yes, ma'am."
He holds out his wrist and you put it on, he then does the same for you.
"Alright! Where should we go first?"
Tom looks around and shrugs, "I don't know, you're the one who's familiar with these things."
"Hm, let's start with... Zero Gravity!" You grab his hand and start walking towards the ride.
"Do we have to go on rides?" Tom practically whines. "Why not those things over there?" You look at him and see him watching the carnival games. "Muggles think this stuff is fun?" Tom asks as he looks at the ride that swings back and forth as people scream.
"Yep! Oh and don't worry we'll do the games. After a few rides," you grin. "Come on."
You make it to the line and to your surprise, the line was decently short, so you were able to get onto the ride quickly.
You two stand next to each other and the ride starts a minute later, spinning so fast that you two are pushed back against the padding behind you.
After it stops, you two walk off and stand out of the way. "So! How was your first ride experience?"
"It was... nauseating. I don't know what the point of that was."
"I think it was fun!" You bounce on your feet and look up at his hair which got a bit messed up.
You reach your arms up and comb your fingers through his hair, neatening it.
"If anyone else were to touch my hair, I-"
"You would use an unforgivable curse, blah blah blah."
"You know me too well," he gives you a boyish grin. He puts his arm on your shoulders and turns you. Running his fingers through your hair and tightening your bow.
"Thanks, love," you kiss his hand. "Okay, next let's go on the swings!"
He nods and follows you like a lost puppy, although if anyone were to say that they wouldn't have a tongue to say anything again.
You two show your wristbands and find your seats. The ride begins and the swings start going around as it rises into the air. Tom has to admit it's a good view since it's nighttime and everything is lit up.
It spins for about two more minutes before slowing and going low again. When it's stopped you turn to Tom, "That was great, wasn't it?"
He shrugs as you both unhook the straps, "I don't know if I would use that word, but it wasn't bad." You walk over to him and take his hand in yours, walking through the exit. "Where to now, angel?"
You bite the inside of your cheek. "How about that roller coaster?"
He looks at where you're pointing and starts to shake his head immediately. "No. Abso-bloody-lutely not."
"Come on Tom! It's not that bad." You start pulling him and you look back at him, "It's practically the same things as the Gringotts Mine Cart."
"I suppose."
You wait a bit on the line and get put in your own cart. You hold his hand and put your free hand on his bouncing knee. "Don't be nervous, love."
He scoffs, "I'm not nervous."
You narrow your eyes at him, "Mhm."
The ride starts and you go all directions at a great speed. It goes in loops and goes up before it drops.
You look over at Tom and see his eyes closed. You smile and poke his cheek. He opens his eyes and looks at you when you laugh, "You're so cute."
He doesn't have time to scold you for calling him cute because the cart takes a sharp turn before going back to where you started.
The man running the ride comes and lifts the bars. You two step out and go down the stairs. "That was amazing," you lean against Tom's side.
"Whatever you say, darling."
"Okay, why don't we get some cotton candy and then play a few games. It's already 10:45."
"Okay," he kisses your head. You two walk over and purchase two cotton candy and then walk to one of the games.
"Tom! I need to win a fish! The poor things are probably miserable in those tiny bags."
"Okay only one though because I don't think Hogwarts allows pet fish."
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"Bloody hell," Tom says holding two large buckets full of bagged fish.
"I can't leave them to die in there!"
"As much as I love how caring you are, was winning thirty-four fish necessary?"
"Yes, Tom. That lady was nice enough to let me play for almost twenty minutes. Okay! Next game."
You two walk up to the game with darts you throw to pop small balloons on the wall.
You smile at the guy working the game. He seemed about your age. "Hi!"
He looks up from his phone and Tom places the buckets on the ground. "Hey," he says, lips curving into a small smirk.
"Mind if I play once?" You ask, handing him a five dollar bill.
"Not at all," he winks and hands you three darts. You hand two to Tom and keep the last one.
Tom throws his, popping two balloons. You throw the last one and pop a balloon.
"Great aim," the guy says. "Pick whatever."
You glance around, spotting something before turning to Tom. "That looks like Novalie," you beam at him, referring to your owl. Tom looks behind you and sees the guy looking quite low in a place he certainly shouldn't be.
He turns you around and wraps an arm around your shoulder while he glares at the guy, "We'll take the owl," he says coolly.
The guy grabs it and hands it to you with a charming smile. He opens his mouth but Tom cuts him off, starting to walk away. "Let's go, sweetheart."
You glance back at the guy who's watching you two walk away. "Bye, thank you! Oh, the fish!"
"I'll get them, wait here." Tom walks over and picks up the buckets. You see him lean over and mumble something to the guy who looks like he's seen a ghost.
You hit his arm when he gets to you, "What did you say to the poor guy?"
"Nothing," he says.
"Didn't look like nothing to me."
"Nothing that you should hear."
"Tom."
"Don't 'Tom' me. We should get going, don't you want to get the fish a thing to live in?"
"A fish tank?"
"Yes."
"Yeah, luckily I saw a place called 'PetSmart' on our way here. I'm going to buy so many decorations for it."
You two walk to the car and put the fish on the floor in the back. You two sit down and as soon as you put your seatbelt on, Tom's lips are on your.
He puts his hand on the back of your neck and holds you in place.
You put a hand on his arm and the other on his shoulder. He bites your bottom lip and you lightly gasp. He slides his tongue in your mouth and slides his against yours.
You kiss him for another few seconds and then pull back breathing heavy. "Goodness me, Tom."
"I love you, you know that?"
You furrow your eyebrows, "Of course I do. I love you, too."
"You wouldn't leave me, right?"
"Tom," you peck his lips. "Never in eternity would I leave you."
"Okay. Let's go get that fish tank," he puts a hand on your thigh and starts driving.
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✮⋆˙ a love 3005 years in the making; jason grace x vlogging! daughter of persephone blurb
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content: jason grace x vlogging! daughter of persephone blurb warning: lanauage i believe but enough cuteness overload to make up for it!! author's note: im not allowed to go to bed without a shower again bc it fucked with my head so so bad- i was legit in a bad place last night but then i took a shower this morning and was fine???? and all my creative juices came back??? it's criminal i can't- anyways heres more of our beloved vloggin girl and her boy toy!! also, as always with these now, there are previous parts to this if yall feel like reading them, but tbh, you really don't have to!!
"okay, okay, first, look how pretty my momma looks," you laughed into the camera, basically shoving it into persephone's face, the goddess rolling her eyes and gently shoving it away.
"you're sweet, darling. my pretty girl," she teased back, squeezing your cheek despite your swatting hands.
"whatever, mom," you pretended to huff, but your smile betrayed your act of anger
"im sure jason would agree-"
"that's enough out of you," you laughed nervously, speaking louder in hopes of covering your mother's voice. you then took the camera around the room, showing off persephone's fancy white dress, a replica of her wedding dress. then, once you were dressed in your deep red dress and make up all done, you were braiding your mother's hair, adding the occasional flower. playing in the background was 'slipping through my fingers,' as you gave your momma a squeeze around her shoulders, smooshing your cheeks together.
the video then cut to you dapping up nico, who was tugging at his suit that his dad forced him into, grumbling about the whole event while you laughed at him.
"where's your blonde boy?" you teased and nico smirked into the camera.
"with your blonde boy," he winked back, nodding his head over to where the two suit-clad boys were conversating, oblivious as you zoomed the camera in on this, the video shaking as you and nico laughed at the situation. it did not fly over your guys head at the two children of the underworld couldn't help but bring blonde golden boys home.
you were then showing the section of persephone's garden that would be hosting the event, showing the dance floor and stealing four macaroons and racing back to give to them to your boys. while you and jason twisted your arms and attempted to feed the other a macaroon like newly weds often did with cake, trying to be cute and funny. it wasn't going well, as you couldn't stop laughing, bending over at the hips and grasping his forearm to stay on your feet. jason couldn't help but laugh with you, unable to pull his eyes from your joyous form. then you and jason were whisked away, yapping up minor and major gods and goddesses alike. hermes demanded on being in the vlog, something about being an avid fan and follower. you agreed, nearly pissing yourself as you film him from a higher angle that made his eyes looked like they were bulging and his forehead longer than normal, hermes yapping away about something you couldn't hear over your laughs.
"im gonna cry-"
"shut the fuck," nico hissed quietly, the camera turned on the two of you huddled together, tears steadily pooling in your eyes. you then turned the camera around, showing the ceremony for hades and persephone. they were speaking in ancient greek their vows, which had everyone in the crowd in tears...save for jason, who couldn't understand a lick of it.
"translation, please?" he whispered over to you, rubbing a comforting hand on your knee. you swallowed down your sobs, leaning away from nico and over to jason, who promptly pulled out his handkerchief and began dabbing at your cheeks to avoid ruining your makeup but also collect your tears.
"basically, they're talking about how distance makes the heart grow fonder. dad knew he was in love with her the first spring of their marriage as he never felt a loss like that before, he imagines its something akin to what mortals feel when a loved one dies. mom's talking about how she wishes she could go back and eat the pomegranate whole, six months apart too long for her heart despite the fact she get's to see her mother," you explained, looking up at the boy with glossy eyes and soft smile that told him you were starting to understand your parents deep love on a personal level. and jason was starting agree.
"gross mushy gushy romance stuff," nico huffed from your left, which earned him a smack from will.
"he was crying a few minutes ago, don't listen to him," will whispered, leaning around the son of death, who blushed beat red and shoved at his blonde boyfriend.
"i was not!"
"you totally wore! look, there's tear stains on your sleeves!"
"those are yn's!"
"hey! no slander against my good name. i cry, but like a grown-up i admit it," yn cut in with a whisper and nico opened his mouth to say more before some minor god whipped around and scolded them into silence.
then the camera was being picked up sloppily, the picture blurring and slightly out of focus, turning to hades and persephone's confused faces. hades leaned in, trying to read something before disappearing from frame and coming back with a pair of glasses on the bridge of his nose.
"ah! i believe it's this button, my blossom," he mused, fiddling with the camera, which cleared up slightly. persephone cheered her husband on before taking the camera back from him, leaning in like she was sharing a secret.
"alright, we really do not understand how to use this cursed mortal object, but hermes did give us a few pointers. and i know my darling daughter would want this moment on camera. and, even thought he won't say it out loud, my beloved boy too," persephone whispered into the camera with a slight giggle before turning it around and zooming in on the dance floor.
there, you and jason were slowly stepping to the music. your head was resting on his shoulder, your arms loosely grappling at his shoulders and resting above his heart. jason's head was bent down over yours, his lips lost in your hairline and near your temple, the ghost of kisses being pressed there. you said something, surely funny as balls, and jason quirked a smile, pulling his girl closer by her hips, as that's where his hands were resting.
"they're so cute together," persephone breathed into the camera.
"yes, and then there's my son and his boyfriend," hades sighed as persephone giggled, shifting the view to nico and will, who were trying to throw grapes into each other's mouths. then some pop song started playing over the speakers and will was desperately trying to drag a begrudging nico out to the dance floor. eventually, will managed to get him out there and they two were jumping about, nico pretending to not laugh and fall more in love with will, who was screeching along to the lyrics
"for a son of apollo, you'd think he'd be a better singer," hades prompted, persephone shoving at her darling husband with a tiny laugh.
"don't talk bad about him! i think this things still recording," persephone hissed, turning the camera around and squinting as she tried to turn it off, having accomplished her mission of recording her children in love.
"i'm just saying, would it kill them to bring home someone who's not blonde? someone with a little spunk, ya know? why do they have to keep falling for the softies-"
hades rant was cut off as persephone found the off button.
the video ended with a tiny collage from the night, photos of your parents as in love as could be and a few goofy ones of you and nico with minor gods and goddess, posing and just being silly. in one of them, you even managed to convince jason to do a handstand with you and a slightly tipsy hermes.
1.7k comments:
@/ur.evryday.mailman: who is that handsome man doing a handstand at the end 🤔🤔🤔
@/underworlds.favs: that's the iconic jason grace 😊🫶
@/ur.evryday.mailman: i walked straight into that one, huh? tell your boyfriend hi for me 🙃
@/user.1: IM SCREAMING- YOUR MOM RECORDING YOU- THEY ARE IN LOVE YOUR HONOR
@/underworlds.favs: the judge sides with the plaintiff, court dismissed 👩‍⚖️
@/user.2: these two gloomy dumbasses with their sunshine boyfriends i cant-
@/underworlds.favs: we know how to pick 'em fr 💪😤
@/user.3: you guys got the way you love from your parents for sure. tell them congrats on the long and clearly happy marriage for me!
@/underworlds.favs: they are, in fact, the blueprint. i don't know why bro is complaining about us bring home softie blonde's when he litterally took home the softest flower girl to ever exist. like bro, we got this from you wtf??? (also, this made my mom cry, she thinks youre the sweetest!)
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yesimwriting · 7 months
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Promise
a/n yes im using the princess! reader who's about to be forced into a political marriage with anakin again,, and what about it the vibe is so fun to me, also i love jealous anakin
warnings: 18+!!! smut (he broke me down) written by someone whose only experience comes from fanfics, so pls be nice,, also written in 1st person bc that was the vibe when i started and i didn't realize this was going to get smutty (i'm sorry yall😭 it's still my best tense)
Summary: As a princess, your future is set in stone. You'll marry someone your father picks for you to aid your country. All of this you've accepted...until you befriend Anakin Skywalker, who was originally assigned to guard you during a time of political unrest on your home planet.
----
He's still near the door, arms crossed and expression as stoic as it was when he first interrupted my meeting to escort me to an urgent consultation with my father.
I understand that publicly we need to remain as indifferent as physically possible and that any sort of friendliness we display needs to seem completely surface level. But we're not in public anymore and usually the transition from appropriate indifference to something much warmer is instant.
"...How urgent is urgent?"
The question is more for our sake than anything else. I want to hear his voice outside of the stiff way he interrupted the meeting with that last suitor. He had barely looked at me as he mumbled something about my father. I want it to feel light the way it usually does between us. I want him to make one of those jokes that always has me rolling my eyes or to smile or--or to do anything that makes him feel like Anakin.
The urge to study him begins to make it hard to just stand there so I turn towards my vanity. What I'm wearing isn't exactly inappropriate for a closed door meeting, but it's more formal than I'd like and a little itchy. If I have time to change into something more standard, I'll take it. "If I call Raina in here I can be in something a lot more comfortable in five minutes."
No response. I smooth my hair back with my palms, eyes subtly shifting towards his reflection in the mirror. Anakin's taken the slightest step forward. "Anakin?"
His head tilts downwards, eyes briefly meeting mine in the mirror before darting away. There's something about the way he's holding himself that would feel bashful it was less stiff. "There is no meeting."
"What?" My head instinctually snaps in his direction. Anakin's already watching me. "You--you made up an emergency?"
This is--Anakin interrupted a meeting with the first suitor that didn't make my skin crawl. I wouldn't have been thrilled to walk down the aisle with him, but I could have likely learned to be content with him. At least he believes that women can do more than just be brides and raise children. He'd allow me to participate in some community work to bond with his people and I'd be able to visit home.
But that's besides the point. He could have been the most repulsive candidate my father had found for me and it still wouldn't have justified what Anakin did. I don't walk out of meetings. Ever. If my father finds out about this...
"Do you have any idea what my father will do if he finds out?" I sit the edge of my vanity's seat with a tired sigh. There has to be some excuse. I could blame it on sickness or a misunderstand or--
"Then I'll take the blame." Anakin's words pull me out of my thoughts. His voice is still stiff and lacking its usual warmth in a way that only adds to my unease. Why is he acting like this? "I'll tell him that it was my fault and that I misunderstood your schedule debriefing."
My fingers dig into the soft fabric of my dress that's pooling over the seat. "Don't." My voice sounds so small, so vulnerable I have to hate myself for it. "He might take that the wrong way and--" I exhale slowly, forcing myself to cling to rationality. "And he might arrange your removal."
Anakin scoffs. What is his issue? "Like that'd bother you."
My throat tightens. After everything we've been through, after telling him things that I've never been able to tell anyone...How can he just dismiss all of it? And why is he being so mean? "What?"
"You've found your ideal suitor and now you can get married and be sent away and never--" Anakin cuts himself off, eyes tearing away so quickly like there's painful about looking at me. "You don't need me anymore."
Oh. That's what this is about. "Anakin." He's staring at some distant point on my wall. "That's not true. You know it isn't."
Everything about him remains stiff. "You were smiling." He briefly glances at me, eyebrows drawn together so sharply it tugs at something in my chest. "A real smile, not your practiced one." Anakin lets out a sigh that feels as pointed as a sarcastic laugh. "And you laughed."
"What?" I'm not miserable in one meeting and now he's acting like I hate him. "I--I might have been making the best of it because he's the first suitor who didn't spend the entire time listing off the requirements for his bride, but that isn't the same as liking him." And even if I liked him, would that be such a terrible thing? Would it really undermine our entire friendship if I found a way to be married and not miserable? "I'm going to have to marry one of them at some point, and I d--"
"Don't marry him." Anakin blurts the sentence out in one wavering breath. The letters run together so closely it feels more like a single word.
For a moment, all the shaky request does is sit between us. I've been on several outings and meetings with potential suitors and Anakin's never reacted like this. What was so wrong about this last one? "Don't marry him? What do--"
Anakin's eyes finally meet mine. The way he's looking at me stings, all glossy eyes and a pouty frown that's trying its best to be harsh. He seems more pained than angry and that's somehow worse.
Don't marry him. The words too strained and small to be about just the man from earlier. Don't marry him means don't marry any of them.
Oh.
I scratch the back of my wrist as Anakin's eyes drop to the ground. He knows that I have no interest in marrying for my father, but even if I did, why would that bother him?
With a sigh, I push myself to stand. Why it upsets him doesn't matter. So much is already weighing on him.
Anakin doesn't look up as I start walking towards him. "I--I can't promise that." My nails dig into the skin of my palm. "I wish I could." The words leave a bitter taste in my mouth. "But it doesn't matter." Anakin's rigid as I carefully extend my hand and bend my fingers against his forearm. "You're always going to be important to me."
He pulls his arm forward instinctually. My hold on him loosens, but before I can take my hand back, Anakin adjusts his to squeeze mine. He's holding on just tight enough for it to feel uncomfortable, but I don't mind it. It's grounding.
"Until you're married." He's staring at where our hands sit between us. There's something I should say, something comforting and easing. Nothing's coming to mind. The reality of the situation is set in stone. I'll have to marry eventually and that--that will change things. But it'll never change the way I feel about Anakin.
Anakin, who always listens when I need to purge all of the resentment about the rules that control my life. Anakin, who sits with me when I can't sleep. Anakin, who has the worst sense of humor that can always pull a smile from me even when it feels impossible.
He moves our hands, releasing my hand at my side. The brief loss of contact makes my ribs feel cracked. "No." It's instinctual. "It's--" I reach forward, hand reaching for his arm. "You're the only person I can tell anything to, the only one that never expects anything from me and just--just likes me for who I am."
The realization that Anakin might be the only true friend I've ever had hits me hard and fast. All of that and a part of me has always been selfish enough to imagine what it'd be like to live in a different world that could allow for more. Though, that's barely been a thought that I've allowed myself to have. Neither of us are in a position to get attached to anyone in that way, and even if we were, Anakin wouldn't see me that way. Besides, his friendship is no small thing, so it definitely takes the sting out of the impossible.
"Who wouldn't?" The comment comes out so soft, so absentminded I nearly melt on the spot.
A lifetime of being a daughter instead of a son has a reflexive a lot of people attempting to crawl up my throat. I swallow the bitterness like bile before I can make this about me and settle on a much lighter, "You'd be surprised."
Any lift in his expression falls again. "You don't see it."
I do try to think about it, but nothing that makes sense comes to mind. "See what?" Anakin pauses, lips pressing together. I'm expecting some kind of response. Instead, Anakin shakes his head once dismissively. "Tell me." His lack of response has me gently shoving his shoulder. "I thought we didn't keep secrets."
He lets out a small breath, we're so close I can feel the warmth of it against my skin. "It's nothing." When my only reaction is to glare, he reaches for my hand. "I don't want to talk about them anymore."
Strange. What does whatever he's talking about have to do with what we were talking about? Yes, the suitors want to court me but they want me the same way they want an ornament or my father's leniency in a business deal. Before I can remind him of this, his hand finds my shoulder.
If Anakin notices the way I freeze, he gives no indication of it, he just trails his thumb up and down the start of my collarbone. It's not the first time he's done this, but until now the gesture has been reserved for late nights when I can't sleep. I'm so used to it being soothing that it immediately gets rid of any fight in my system.
"You've had more meetings recently."
I nod, still too focused on the feeling of his hand on my shoulder. "It's a busy time...celebration season is always elaborate, and things are...tense."
He nods. If there's one thing he knows about, it's the precariousness that seems to be reaching everyone these days. But my time with Anakin is limited. He's been assigned to be my personal guard during the celebration season since the year a political protestor took my mother's life. The season always feels like it will be long, but time always slips away quicker than it should when it comes to Anakin.
I know I shouldn't do this. He doesn't need any type of encouragement after what happened at today's meeting, but something's clearly been weighing on him and I do miss him. The additional events, the public outings, the suitors...all to save face as the threat of war continues to become a more pressing issue. "My father had most of my afternoon blocked off in case that last suitor wanted extra time."
Anakin frowns, his thumb stopping its outlined path across my shoulder. He is so dramatic. "I shouldn't be telling you this because it might sound like I approve of you making up an emergency, but if you don't have anything to do, we can catch up."
He tilts his head, a hint of a smile turning up the corner of his lips. "Catch up? We're together all day."
I extend an arm, gently pushing him. First, he basically throws a fit because he convinced himself it was possible for me to like a suitor more than him, and now that I want to do something with him, he's trying to make fun of me. "I mean about before you came here. We've barely had time to talk since you've gotten back."
"Okay," his thumb brushes back down where my collarbone meets my shoulder, "We can talk." He squeezes my shoulder before retracting his hand. "The garden or the library?"
Our two most frequented spots. I grin. "The garden, the weather's nice today." He smiles, taking a step back. "Give me a minute to change. I turn away from him, walking towards my closet. "I've been ready to take off this dress since Raina put me in it this morning."
Raina spent longer than a minute trapping me in between scratchy fabric and a stiffly structured top. All of those ties and buttons that I still can't reach. Ugh. I wonder if calling Raina in will lead to more attention being drawn to the fact that I left early. Technically, the official meeting would likely be over by now but my father wanted it to go well. He kept things open in hopes of it lasting a little longer.
It's probably better not to ask. Drawing any attention to me and Anakin isn't the best idea in general. We're good friends, which is okay in front of some people but wrong in front of others. Raina is a little skeptical. It's nothing personal against Anakin, she just knows me too well, which means she reads into things.
I stretch my arm back as far as it'll go and manage to undo the bottom of the lacing and a few buttons. Anything that's more than halfway up my back is impossible to get to. I twist and turn and push and I can't reach.
"Everything alright?"
Anakin's voice carries through the short hall. I sigh, giving the fabric one last desperate tug. "Everything's fine I just..." I squeeze my eyes shut before pinching the bridge of my nose. "Can you come here?"
A brief wave of silence that leaves my face burning lingers until the sound of footsteps ends it. Anakin appears in my closet's doorway. "You're okay?"
"Yeah," I mumble, "Yes, I just--I can't get the buttons." As if to make my point, I try again in vain, trying again to reach the tiny clasps.
"You need help?" Anakin's voice comes out lower than usual.
Maybe he feels just as awkward about this. "If it'd be easier, you could just call in Raina."
"No," I can hear his weight shifting off the doorframe, "I can do it."
He takes a few steps forward. Before I know it, he's directly behind me. Anakin smooths a hand over my hair before gently moving it over my shoulder. The way heat begins to crawl up my neck makes me glad that my back is to him. His hand settles against my back.
I pull my arms forward, crossing them in front of my chest. He takes over, fingertips grazing against my back. The longer he works, the looser the dress begins to feel. I should be feeling cooler now that I'm getting closer to just being in my thin layering dress, but all of my earlier warmth and discomfort is now rising up my face.
"Raina put you in this this morning?"
I nod, "Raina woke me up earlier than usual today to make me up." The final button is pulled apart. I have to keep an arm at my chest to keep the dress from pooling at my feet. "I think this might have taken longer than my hair."
The comment is meant to be lighthearted. Instead of taking it that way, Anakin lets out a breath as his hand settles against my hip. "Won't things be easier when you don't have to worry about finding a husband?"
Now it's my turn to sigh. I make a point of pulling his hand off my side. I wander further into my closet. "You know I want nothing to do with this." My grip on the dress tightens, my sudden movement making it harder to keep the heavy dress on. "And if you honestly think I find any joy in being packaged in suffocating fabric and bodices so structured that they stab into my ribs every time I breathe, then you don't know me."
I turn around and let go of the dress, allowing the gown to pool at my feet. I step out of the puddle of fabric before reaching for one of my hangers, a casual day dress that I've barely looked at.
"I didn't mean it that way." His voice comes out low, almost reluctant. It's not enough to ease me, so I make a point of scoffing. Something warm pulls on my forearm. Before I know it, I'm facing with him. Oh. Anakin's closer than I thought he'd be. "I'm sorry." He exhales, voice tight, "Don't be mad, princess."
I keep my expression neutral. Though I'm in no mood to be reminded of my title, Anakin has a way of making it feel like a term of endearment. "If you're bothered by my situation, I understand that." He's staring me with such intensity I have to make the conscious choice to not look away. "I really understand that, but do not treat me like this is my choice. Not all of us are meant for more and can do whatever we want."
"Not whatever I want," he whispers, voice strained.
Now it's my turn to wish I had bitten my tongue. Anakin's told me enough of the stories for me to know that while sometimes the fact that he gets to leave and be an active source of good makes me wish my life was different, his isn't exactly easy.
His eyes hold mine for a beat before drifting downwards. For whatever reason, that makes me aware of the fact that this is likely the least dressed I've ever been in front of anyone. Sure, Anakin's seen me in pajamas and casual wear, but the silk dress under my gown is thin and low cut.
"And don't say that this is what you're meant for." He pulls my arm down with his hand, letting his fingers interlock with mine. "I've seen you in meetings and the way that you care about your people. You don't need to do this."
Again, it's like he's trying to convince me to change my mind. Like this is something that I want. I don't understand what he's trying to convince me to do. "Try telling that to my father."
I'm not sure what it is, but something about Anakin's expression looks a little flatter. Maybe even disappointed. I get it, this isn't exactly a fun topic, and we have no reason to dwell on it now. It's not like I'm getting engaged tonight. And I rarely get time to just be around Anakin, my future marriage has already taken enough from me, it doesn't need to take this too.
"Why are we still talking about this?" I pull my hand back, ready to grab my dress. "It's not like anything's happening now, let's just go to the garden like we--"
Anakin reaches forward before I can turn around, his hand finding my shoulder.
"I--" He cuts himself off, "There's been a rise in meetings with potential suitors, it's not as easy to ignore as it used to be."
I know exactly what he's talking about. All of my energy has been focused on not thinking about that. But that's because it's my inevitable future. How could this possibly matter this much to Anakin? "Ignore what?"
"Do you have any idea how difficult it is to know what they're feeling? What they're thinking about you?" Anakin's breath catches itself in his throat, his thumb slipping beneath the strap of my dress. "What they're thinking about doing to you?"
Heat rushes to my face. I try to swallow to clear the lump in my throat but my mouth has gone dry. "Anakin?"
"I've spent so long trying to let you go."
What? Is he--is he saying that he-- "What?"
He tilts his head downwards, "You don't need to do this. I--"
"Don't say it." My hand is quick to grab the one he has on my shoulder. Push him away, I should push him away. My hand won't move. The one person I've always known I won't ever be able to have.
"Why not?" He asks the question so innocently, like he couldn't ever fathom a reason for me to shut this down. After a moment, his eyebrows pull together, a small frown playing at his lips. "You don't want me?"
If this was any less serious, that would have made me laugh. That is, most definitely, not the issue. "That's not true."
He relaxes slightly, his thumb trailing down my shoulder. Before I can explain issues that we both are definitely aware of, he leans impossibly closer. His weight on mine is nearly enough to make me forget the concept of logic entirely.
"Anakin," it's meant to be a warning. The breathiness of my voice takes away all of its severity. "We can't." I'm arguing for more my sake than his. He already knows all of the reasons that we need to agree to remain just friends before things get any more complicated. "What I want doesn't matter. Nothing I've wanted has ever mattered." He hasn't moved away, but at least he isn't trying to get any closer. "And even if it did, it's not like we'd suddenly be able to be together."
Anakin's hand adjusts on my shoulder, his grip tightening. He has the audacity to look like he's not sure what I'm talking about. "The Jedi code?" He blinks, still giving no indication of understanding why everything about us is impossible. "I'm sure I don't need to remind you why that matters, chosen one."
He scoffs. "I don't care."
I place my free hand on his chest, willing myself to create some distance between us before my judgement finally lapses. "You can't--you can't say that." My eyes squeeze shut, "I know that it's unfair, but time will pass and you'll feel rational again, and it'll be easier."
"Don't do that." The harsh quality of his voice nearly makes me step back. "Don't treat this like it's a political compromise."
Something about me trying to keep things together the only way I know how is hurting him. I don't know how to get through this without taking the emotion out of it. Still, I don't want to make this harder on him. My hand moves up his chest and rests on his shoulder. "I didn't mean it like that."
He nods slowly, visibly relaxing at my touch, "You're only pushing me away because you're afraid."
"What?"
Anakin's thumb drags across my skin. "You're afraid that if you let yourself even admit that you might want something that your father hasn't decided for you, and that if you're selfish for even a second, your entire world will fall apart."
If it came from anyone else, I'd be offended, but coming from Anakin, it just makes the real reason why I can't just say it and give in hurt more. "That's not it." Anakin doesn't respond. He wants me to say more and I'm not sure that I can. "It's--" What I'm afraid of is that I let myself admit that I want Anakin out loud, I'll have to decide whether or not I want him more than everything I've been working towards my entire life and that I won't like my own answer.
"It's that," I start over, staring at my hand on his shoulder in case looking at him directly will make the confidence I've gathered to wither away. "That if I let myself think about it, about you--like that--for longer than a moment, I might want you more than any of this."
He pauses, likely thinking through his words. Maybe he'll try to promise me that he wouldn't make me choose while not understanding that being with him at all makes that decision for me. Or maybe the amount of care I'm implying will scare him into second guessing this.
His hand slowly moves off of my shoulder. If my deep, dark secret has finally gotten him to understand why we're better off as we are, then maybe it's worth how hard it was to get out.
His fingers settle against my jaw. Slowly, he gets my head to turn. I look at him, expecting some kind of rejection to be written across his face. Instead, all I see in his eyes is a pool of emotion ready for me to drown in. "Would that have to be a bad thing?"
This time, the softness of his question doesn't feel like an attempt to dismiss our reality. It's so genuine it turns into a physical ache between us.
I'm reminded that despite all of his talent, confidence, and sense of humor that I've tried so hard to enjoy less, he's still a boy who's experienced so much heartbreak. The council constantly dismissing him and refusing to grant him the title he deserves, the loss of his mother, all of the expectations on his shoulders...
Would it be such a bad thing to want him more than anything else? To love him more that much?
I tilt my head back, just enough to press my lips against his. Anakin's quick to reciprocate, turning the barely there press of lips into something else with no warning. He shifts his weight so that he's fully against me. My back hits the wall of my closet before I realize what's happening.
It's heavy, my bottom lip being pulled between his teeth. The hand that's not still cupping my jaw settles on my hip, the silk of my slip dress crumpling between his fingers. I pull my head back, Anakin attempts to follow, teeth tugging on my lip one last time before letting us separate.
He doesn't let me get far, resting his forehead against mine as we both struggle to catch our breaths. "I'm sorry, I should have--"
"Don't be sorry," I manage between slow pants, "Not for that."
Anakin smiles, and for once, I don't mind feeding his ego. "I can feel how much you need me." The urge to squirm away and hide any potential embarrassment is strong, but I have no way to act on the impulse. I'm pinned between Anakin and the wall of my closet. He slowly pulls my dress, exposing another inch of skin. "Do you think any of your suitors could make you feel like this?"
I shake my head, "No." That's an easy thing to get out, "Only you."
Another tug that has more fabric pooling around my waist. "Promise you won't marry him." His head dips forward, his lips brushing against the end of my jaw. "Any of them."
My eyes instinctually shut. I need to hold it together. "You--you know I can't just--" He places an open mouthed kiss against my neck. "Anakin."
"Promise." An order.
I exhale, struggling to focus. "It's not--" Another kiss. "It's not f--air." My voice cracks on the last syllable as Anakin moves further down my neck. "You know I'd never break a promise I made to you."
"What's not fair is having to watch you meet with men who look at you and to know that this..." He pulls the strap of my dress off of my shoulder, exposing more skin that he immediately presses his lips against. "Is what they want to do to you."
What? I had never thought that my suitors fantasized about anything, everything about those meetings always feel so cold and political. I'd question it if I could bring myself to care about the revelation with Anakin's teeth pressing into the pulse point of my neck. "To have to watch them look at what's mine."
"Anakin..."
One last shift of fabric and the hem of my dress is now over my hips. His hand leaves my jaw and skims the waist of my underwear. "Promise."
His fingers finally reach where I need him most. My eyes instinctually shut at the sensation, a wave of pleasure I've never felt before nearly making me jump. Noticing my tension, he presses a gentle kiss against my cheek.
I have to give him something, and maybe that'll be enough to at least put this conversation off until I'm in a position to negotiate. "I'm yours." My ability to form sentences is quickly fading as his finger presses into me. "Can't that be enough?" A small part of myself hates how easily I'm cracking. "For now?"
Anakin does the meanest thing imaginable, he stops. "Promise me."
A pathetically desperate whine escapes me. He can't be serious. He won't walk away now just because I can't immediately promise to never marry anyone.
He straightens enough to pull away from the crook of my neck. "Anakin." I meet his gaze, and behind the harshness of his eyes, I see that he means it. "You know I--I can't--"
"We can work it out." That genuine side of him returns, softness bleeding back into his expression. "All that matters is that you want to."
"Of course I want to."
He leans forward again, forehead pressing against mine, "Then promise me..." Anakin's eyes briefly shut, "Promise me you won't marry anyone else."
I let myself take him in, how it feels to let him consume me entirely. It's too late for me, anyway. I wouldn't be able to will myself to walk down the aisle the same way I couldn't force myself to push him away. "I promise."
His lips are on mine in an instant. When I don't part my lips fast enough, he hooks two fingers between the waistband of my underwear and tugs them down my legs in one, swift motion. I gasp, giving him all the access he needs to drag his tongue against mine.
He moves back, beginning to press his lips against my jaw. "Anakin."
"Say it again." His fingers find the spot that makes me see stars. "Promise me that you're mine."
A whiny breath slips past my lips, "I promise." His teeth drag against my throat and my nails instinctually dig into his shoulder, "Only you."
A rough sound escapes from the back of Anakin's throat. He removes a hand from my hip to adjust his own robes. I'm too distracted to realize what he's doing until it's obvious. "Again."
I reach my hand forward until my fingers are wrapping around his length. "Only you, Anakin." He groans. "I--I won't marry anyone else." Anakin places his hand over mine, guiding my hand up and down his length. "I'm yours."
He buries his face in the crook of my neck, "Maker, you're--" The rest of the sentence is murmured into my skin at a pitch that I can't make out.
His fingers press into me even harder. "Anakin," my whininess would be embarrassing if I wasn't so distracted by the coiling feeling in my stomach, "I--I--"
"Tell me," he lifts his head enough to speak the words into my ears, "Tell me that you want me."
My eyes screw shut, "I--It's more than want." It feels like a confession. "I need you."
Another strangled breath escapes him. Anakin pulls away enough to line himself against my entrance. He presses in slowly, the feeling in my stomach reaches a height I didn't think possible. "Anakin."
"You're so," he's getting the words out through gritted teeth, "Tight." Anakin pushes in even more. A gasp escapes me. "Say it again." I'm too lost in what I'm feeling to form the words. He pulls back before pushing his entire length in with no warning. Anakin shows no reaction to the pitchy whine he forced out of me. "Again."
"It's--it's only--you," I pant. "I won't marry any-one else--just--just please, Anakin."
His thumb presses against where my nerves are at their most on edge. I can't breathe or focus on anything. "Please what?"
"I need you."
He rubs tight circles against me and picks up the pace. My head falls against his shoulder, eyes squeezing tight. "Look at me." I--I can't keep my head up. Anakin's hand tugs at my hair, forcing me off of his shoulder. "Look at me."
I force my eyes open. "Anakin."
"Feel good, hm?" All I can do is nod. "Can't even talk anymore?" His lips find their way against my jaw. "What would all your suitors say if they could see how easy it was for me to get you like this?" His lips find a spot on my neck that leaves me dizzy. "First breaking all the rules and now you can't even talk." It's hard to focus on anything that isn't how he feels. "Who has you like this?"
I take a shaky breath, "You, Anakin." My voice is shaky, "Only you."
His lips press against mine. Hard. I give in entirely and it's all teeth and wanting a closer that doesn't exist. He pulls away just as quickly, "I've got you, princess," he exhales, "come for me."
My body knows what to do more than I do. I cling onto him. Anakin's thrusts become less even without losing speed. He continues until an all consuming pleasure has my body practically shaking. My orgasm hits so fast and hard I can barely hold myself upright.
"Oh, you're squee--" Anakin cuts himself off, pulling out before he can finish inside me. "Maker, you're perfect."
After it ends, I expect to be filled with some kind of regret or remorse. Instead, all I feel is a sense of peace as I recover with my forehead pressed into Anakin's chest. He keeps his arm around me loosely. "It's just you and me, princess."
I nod against him weakly, desperate to accept what he's saying. "Just you and me."
He smooths circles against my back. "We'll figure it out together."
It's not an easy thing to believe, but trusting Anakin is natural. I finally lift my head to look at him, "We have time." I don't know how much time, but it's definitely not happening today, and if I can push this until our political crisis becomes the ultimate concern, my father won't bring it up until this is resolved. Maybe if I prove myself as a leader, he'll see that I can be more. "I'm tired."
He smiles lazily, "You're saying I tired you out?" I roll my eyes. "Come on, we have some time before you have to meet with your advisors." Anakin squeezes my shoulder, thumb soothingly tracing a pattern against my collarbone. "Stay with me?"
I have to bite my tongue to keep a much too emotional always from coming out, so I just nod. He takes my hand and leads me into my bedroom. Anakin helps me into bed before laying next to me.
Drowsiness pulls at my eyelids. I fight against the exhaustion as best as I can, but Anakin's gentle touches and whispered terms of endearment aren't making it easier.
"You can sleep," he finally whispers, "I'll make sure you're awake with enough time to get ready for your next meeting."
It's tempting, but after all of this, all I want is to be near him and to--to talk to him and absorb his presence before I can't. "But--"
"I'm not going anywhere," he says, reading my hesitance easily, "We have time."
My eyes are already closed, "Promise?"
Anakin's head dips forward as he presses a chaste kiss against my temple. "I promise."
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dontyouworrydaddy · 10 months
Note
Can you please do 141 where the reader and them are talking about there Highschool years and like “I would have dated you in high school “ type thing THEN they see a pic of reader in high school (prom,first day,or any thing for that time) SHES FINE FINE like imagine 90s type vibe, then they remember what they looked like in that same year and they say back “ IM glad u didn’t meet me then cause u would have no interest “ AND SHES STILL FINE FINE where they think it’s a recent photo!
idk know what I’m doing I just got an idea and your my favorite writer so I wanted to let you know!!!!
YOU ARE LOVED!!!!!❤️❤️❤️❤️
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thᥱ most bᥱᥲᥙtιfᥙᥣ ᥕomᥲᥒ ιᥒ thᥱ ᥕorᥣd
Task Force 141 + fem! reader
I ABSOLUTELY love this idea!!!! Like as soon as they see your pictures they‘re like "damn. I‘m glad we didn’t meet back then because she would definitely reject me and on top of that probably make fun of me." I‘m sorry but especially with Soap😭 This dude probably had the craziest hair back then (he still has but we love him for it).
Also I‘m so thankful for your kind words🥺🥺 They really mean so much to me and you just lighten up my entire day<33 I wish I could hug you right now☹️ Remember that you’re also always loved by someone and MEEE🫶🏻🫶🏻💘💘
Thank you really so so much 🌸💕💕
‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵
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Simon Riley
It was a quiet evening at the your apartment . Simon found himself reminiscing about your high school years. As the conversation flowed, nostalgia filled the air.
"You know, Y/N, if we had met in high school, I would have totally dated you." Simon said with a playful smirk, leaning back against the wall.
You chuckled, a blush creeping onto your cheeks. "Oh, really? And why is that?"
Simon's gaze turned thoughtful as he recalled those distant memories. "Well, you are always confident and stunning. I would have been a nervous wreck around you."
Grinning, you teased, "Are you saying you weren't attractive back then?"
Simon chuckled, running a hand through his dark hair. "Let's just say my teenage years weren't my finest hour. I had an awkward sense of fashion, let’s not talk about my hair... Definitely not the smooth operator you see in front of you today."
Curiosity piqued, you both began reminiscing about those high school days. Simon had a mischievous idea and suggested pulling out old photo albums to see just how different you both were.
Rummaging through the dusty boxes, you stumbled upon a photo of your younger self. It was a picture from prom, in your beautiful dress. You were radiant, your smile lighting up the frame. Simon's eyes widened as he took in the sight.
"Damn, Y/N, you were fine then, and you're still fine now!" he exclaimed, feigning surprise.
You laughed, not realizing his little trick. "Well, thank you, Simon. I try my best."
Simon's expression shifted, his voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia. "You know, seeing this picture reminds me of why I'm glad we didn't meet back then. I don't think I would have stood a chance with you. You would've rejected me in a heartbeat."
Your smile softened as you leaned in closer. "Simon, you underestimate yourself. I would have seen the incredible person you were, braces and all. It's the person you are inside that truly matters."
Simon's eyes locked with yours, and a genuine smile graced his face. The air was filled with a sense of camaraderie as you both laughed at the absurdity of it all.
As the evening came to a close, Simon made a decision. He carefully tucked the photo of your younger self into his pocket, a keepsake of a moment he cherished. You remained unaware of this little secret, but somehow, deep down, you felt that this memory would always be a part of your bond.
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John MacTavish
It was a lazy Sunday afternoon and John and you were lounging on the couch, flipping through old photo albums. The nostalgic memories flooded your minds as you reminisced about your high school years. The room was filled with laughter and teasing as you playfully pointed out your younger selves in various snapshots.
John looked at a picture of you, radiating confidence in a stunning prom dress. He couldn't help but stare in awe, captivated by your beauty and timeless charm. With a grin, you turned to him and said "You know, John, I would have totally dated you in high school."
John's eyes widened in surprise, his heart skipping a beat at your words. He never expected you to make such a bold statement. "Really?" he asked, a mix of curiosity and disbelief in his voice.
You nodded, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Oh, absolutely. You are the mysterious and brooding type. I was drawn to that kind of intensity back then."
A flicker of doubt crossed John's face as he remembered his own high school years. "I'm glad you didn't meet me then" he said, his voice tinged with self-deprecation. "I had this crazy hair phase, and trust me, you would have immediately rejected me."
You chuckled, playfully swatting his arm. "Come on, John. Show me that picture. I'm sure it couldn't have been that bad."
John hesitated for a moment, then reached for another album. He turned to a page and revealed a photograph of himself, his hair styled in an over-the-top, eccentric manner that seemed to defy gravity. His expression was a mixture of embarrassment and amusement as he looked at his younger self.
You burst into uncontrollable laughter, clutching your stomach. Tears formed at the corners of your eyes as you struggled to compose yourself. John couldn't help but join in, the embarrassment fading as he found joy in sharing this memory with you.
Once the laughter subsided, you looked at him with a smile. "John, you have no idea how much I would have loved to meet that version of you. That hairstyle is absolutely cute!"
John's face softened, his heart swelling with affection for you. "You're incredible, you know that?" he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "Even if I looked like a total goofball, you would still find a way to make me feel special."
You reached out and took his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. "That's because I've always seen the amazing person you are, regardless of how you looked or what hairstyle you had."
John leaned in and gently kissed your forehead, his love for you evident in his eyes. "I'm the luckiest man in the world to have you by my side," he whispered and kissed you on the lips.
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John Price
You and John sat side by side on the couch, flipping through an old photo album filled with memories from your high school years. The two of you had decided to take a nostalgic trip down memory lane. You couldn't help but smile as you stumbled upon a particular photograph that brought back a flood of memories.
"Oh my gosh, John, look at this!" you exclaimed, pointing to a picture of yourself at the high school prom. You were dressed in a stunning vintage dress.
John's eyes widened as he gazed at the photograph, taking in your breathtaking beauty. "Wow, you were absolutely stunning" he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "If I had known you back then, I would've also been head over heels for you."
A playful grin spread across your face. "Oh, really? So you're saying you would've dated me in high school?"
John chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "Well, I probably would've been too intimidated to ask you out. Plus, I had a weird sense of style back then. Trust me, you wouldn't have been interested."
Curiosity piqued, you leaned closer, showing him the photograph of yourself. "Well, let's see if that's true" you challenged him.
John's eyes widened even further as he looked at the picture. "Wait a minute, is this recent? You look exactly the same!"
You burst into laughter, your heart warming at his genuine surprise. "No, John, this is me in high school. That's why I said I would've dated you back then."
He let out a low whistle. "Well, damn. I definitely lucked out then."
You playfully nudged his shoulder. "Come on, John, you can't be that bad. Let me see your high school days."
John reluctantly handed you another photograph from the album, showing his younger self with a mischievous grin. He sported a rather peculiar outfit that seemed to be a mixture of different styles. It was elegant and had a touch of cowboy style, mixed…
You burst into laughter once again, unable to contain yourself. "Oh, John! I can't believe this was your fashion sense back then."
He smirked, looking slightly embarrassed. "Yeah, I had a bit of a weird phase. Trust me, if we had met during those years, I would've been instantly rejected."
You shook your head, still laughing. "Oh, John, you have no idea. Even with that fashion sense, I would've been all over you."
His eyes sparkled with affection as he pulled you into a tight embrace. "Well, I'm glad we met when we did, then. I wouldn't change a thing about how we found each other."
You smiled, savoring the warmth of his embrace. "Me neither, John. We're perfect for each other, weird fashion choices and all."
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Kyle Garrick
Kyle and you sat side by side on the couch, surrounded by photo albums from your high school days. You decided to take a trip down memories from back then together. As you flipped through the pages, looking at the good old times, you stumbled upon a photo of yourself from prom night.
"Oh, wow!" You exclaimed, holding up the photo for Kyle to see. "Look at me back then. I can't believe how much has changed."
Kyle's eyes widened as he took in the sight of you in your beautiful prom dress, radiating a timeless beauty. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret as he thought back to his own high school days.
"I would have dated you in high school" you mused, oblivious to the effect the photo had on Kyle. "You're such a great guy, I would have definitely dated you."
A small smile played at the corners of Kyle's lips as he stared at you, captivated by your words. "Thank you love, but believe me, you're better off not having met me back then. I was a total nerd."
You furrowed your brows in confusion. "What are you talking about? I‘m sure you were cute."
Kyle's expression turned pensive as he reached for another photo album and opened it to a picture of himself from the same year as your prom. His hair was a mess, his glasses too big for his face, and his clothes screamed "geek."
"See?" Kyle pointed to his photo, his voice laced with self-deprecating humor. "I was a freak. If we had met in high school, I would've been immediately rejected. You would've never given me a second glance."
Your eyes widened in surprise, and then you burst into laughter, shaking your head. "Baby stop. You look adorable!!"
He blinked, unable to comprehend your words. "Wait, what?"
"I'm serious!" You continued to laugh, your heart swelling with affection for the man beside you. "You're looking at this picture like it's some embarrassing relic, but all I see is the person I fell in love with. Baby Kyle looks so so cute here"
Kyle's gaze softened as he absorbed your words. The weight of his insecurities began to lift, replaced by a newfound confidence in your unwavering love. "I‘m 17 here love… not 6…"
Placing the photo album aside, you leaned in closer to Kyle, intertwining your fingers with his. "High school was just a phase, but what we have now, this incredible relationship, is what matters. I love you, Kyle Garrick, then, now, and always."
Kyle smiled, his heart overflowing with love for you. "I love you too, more than words can express."
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