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#i have so many thoughts about a certain number person
gabugabs · 4 months
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that's reality tv babeeeyyy /// @infamous-if
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inkskinned · 10 months
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so one of the things that's so horrifying about birth control is that you have to, like, navigate this incredibly personal choice about your body and yet also face the epitome of misogyny. like, someone in the comments will say it wasn't that bad for me, and you'll be utterly silenced. like, everyone treats birth control like something that's super dirty. like, you have no fucking information or control over this thing because certain powerful people find it icky.
first it was the oral contraceptives. you went on those young, mostly for reasons unrelated to birth control - even your dermatologist suggested them to control your acne. the list of side effects was longer than your arm, and you just stared at it, horrified.
it made you so mentally ill, but you just heard that this was adulthood. that, yes, there are of course side effects, what did you expect. one day you looked up yasmin makes me depressed because surely this was far too intense, and you discovered that over 12,000 lawsuits had been successfully filed against the brand. it remains commonly prescribed on the open market. you switched brands a few times before oral contraceptives stopped being in any way effective. your doctor just, like, shrugged and said you could try a different brand again.
and the thing is that you're a feminist. you know from your own experience that birth control can be lifesaving, and that even when used for birth control - it is necessary healthcare. you have seen it save so many people from such bad situations, yourself included. it is critical that any person has access to birth control, and you would never suggest that we just get rid of all of it.
you were a little skeeved out by the implant (heard too many bad stories about it) and figured - okay, iud. it was some of the worst pain you've ever fucking experienced, and you did it with a small number of tylenol in your system (3), like you were getting your bikini line waxed instead of something practically sewn into your body.
and what's wild is that because sometimes it isn't a painful insertion process, it is vanishingly rare to find a doctor that will actually numb the area. while your doctor was talking to you about which brand to choose, you were thinking about the other ways you've been injured in your life. you thought about how you had a suspicious mole frozen off - something so small and easy - and how they'd numbed a huge area. you thought about when you broke your wrist and didn't actually notice, because you'd thought it was a sprain.
your understanding of pain is that how the human body responds to injury doesn't always relate to the actual pain tolerance of the person - it's more about how lucky that person is physically. maybe they broke it in a perfect way. maybe they happened to get hurt in a place without a lot of nerve endings. some people can handle a broken femur but crumble under a sore tooth. there's no true way to predict how "much" something actually hurts.
in no other situation would it be appropriate for doctors to ignore pain. just because someone can break their wrist and not feel it doesn't mean no one should receive pain meds for a broken wrist. it just means that particular person was lucky about it. it should not define treatment.
in the comments of videos about IUDs, literally thousands of people report agony. blinding, nauseating, soul-crushing agony. they say things like i had 2 kids and this was the worst thing i ever experienced or i literally have a tattoo on my ribs and it felt like a tickle. this thing almost killed me or would rather run into traffic than ever feel that again.
so it's either true that every single person who reports severe pain is exaggerating. or it's true that it's far more likely you will experience pain, rather than "just a pinch." and yet - there's nothing fucking been done about it. it kind of feels like a shrug is layered on top of everything - since technically it's elective, isn't it kind of your fault for agreeing to select it? stop being fearmongering. stop being defensive.
you fucking needed yours. you are almost weirdly protective of it. yours was so important for your physical and mental health. it helped you off hormonal birth control and even started helping some of your symptoms. it still fucking hurt for no fucking reason.
once while recovering from surgery, they offered you like 15 days of vicodin. you only took 2 of them. you've been offered oxy for tonsillitis. you turned down opioids while recovering from your wisdom tooth extraction. everything else has the option. you fucking drove yourself home after it, shocked and quietly weeping, feeling like something very bad had just happened. the nurse that held your hand during the experience looked down at you, tears in her eyes, and said - i know. this is cruelty in action.
and it's fucked up because the conversation is never just "hey, so the way we are doing this is fucking barbaric and doctors should be required to offer serious pain meds" - it's usually something around the lines of "well, it didn't kill you, did it?"
you just found out that removing that little bitch will hurt just as bad. a little pinch like how oral contraceptives have "some" serious symptoms. like your life and pain are expendable or not really important. like maybe we are all hysterical about it?
hysteria comes from the latin word for uterus, which is great!
you stand here at a crossroads. like - this thing is so important. did they really have to make it so fucking dangerous. and why is it that if you make a complaint, you're told - i didn't even want you to have this in the first place. we're told be careful what you wish for. we're told that it's our fault for wanting something so illict; we could simply choose not to need medication. that maybe if we don't like the scraps, we should get ready to starve.
we have been saying for so long - "i'm not asking you to remove the option, i'm asking you to reconsider the risk." this entire time we hear: well, this is what you wanted, isn't it?
#where's the word woman in this u might wonder if u suck#good news i am nonbinary and have a uterus so that is something that can happen#im also gender fluid tho which means im immune to certain psychic damage bc if u call me a woman i'll be like <3 okay <3#writeblr#the tightrope of ''ppl need access to this''#and like also#''what the fuck is going on over there'' is like. so difficult as an activist#i was <3 punctured <3 during mine#and almost bled out on the table :) they didn't have anyone standing by bc it's ''just a little insertion''#so i started crashing and i vaguely remember apologizing for the fuss as i heard my heart rate monitor start going <3 tachycardic <3#she wasn't even a bad doctor tbh#ps btw the reason i even HAD a heart monitor is that i have a genuine heart condition and they knew GOING IN that there was a chance#i'd crash on the table#like my heart just likes to do fun little tricks and <3 stop working <3 (i do not want to discuss the specifics ty i am okay im ontop of it#and they were like 'oh u will be fine' and then she did do a puncture thru my uterus . pop!#and im sitting there dizzy and feeling my heartrate start to drop bc it feels almost. beautiful. like. the whole ground just#woosh! out from under you. and shit is like grey's anatomy. i'm looking up at her grey eyes#she's old she wears this nice shawl she's like got Cool Lesbian vibes and people are sprinting into the room#from other parts of the clinic unrelated to me. while the monitor is like a little aria singing#and shes like hey youre okay stay awake stay with me something went wrong we have to keep trying#and i remember thinking - i was trying to think of nice things. i have so many beautiful places that now overlap#with this terrible memory#i became dimly aware that there was too much on her wrists and hands. like#that was too many liters#and then when they had finished all this. i packed up and drove myself home#i have had (bad thing) happen to me. and the same feeling happened after#that numb almost lamblike bleating. you cry without noise. like. ur body is so shocked and ur mind so empty#you just stare at the road and everything everything is happening behind glass and static and you are standing so far away from it#while you hold ur hands at 10 and 2. and something in ur brain is SCREAMING at you - IT WAS BAD AND IT SHOULDNT HAVE HAPPENED#and ur just watching the alarms in your body going off and youre thinking. a little pinch! ha. i think i just lost something important.
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celestemona · 1 month
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WHEN THEY’RE DADS
and how they deal with their children and domestic life. part ii.
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pairing: dad & husband! cyno, kaveh, alhaitham x fem! reader
cw: original characters, slightly ooc to fit the plot, domesticity, fluff. pregnancy is mentioned to introductions but not too elaborated. not beta read. a bit longer than the previous ones.
kazuha’s part | part. i
reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡
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 Cyno
If there was something that the General Mahamatra valued beyond justice and absolute truth, it’d be the loyalty of those around him without asking for anything in return. Cyno could count on both hands the number of people he’d risk his life to or who’d have his back, and to be honest, there weren't many of them. Thus, the passing of the years only solidified this philosophy, confirming that trust wasn’t something to be given, but earned — it being the reason why he only kept a certain number of people close to him.
However, this belief had also shown Cyno that some priorities were greater than others, and ensuring your happiness and safety became the main one of them all. Especially when you were also the one carrying his babies.
Your pregnancy announcement was unexpected, but the change in your husband's personality wasn’t. As your belly grew, you could notice that Cyno became a little more clingy with you, enjoying being by your side or placing his warm hands on it to feel his children's kicks. Though, the mahamatra also couldn't help but be more overprotective or bossy towards you, traits that seemed to have intensified over the months. 
Cyno liked to think that his overprotectiveness was justified since not only had he become a first-time father but of twins. His bossy acts weren’t for nothing either. It was just because your husband knew you and your impulsiveness very well, so the slightest thought of the risks that you could put yourself out there of your own free will stressed him out already.
And this last one you seemed to do on purpose to test him since you had put yourself in critical situations more times than he wished to count.
So, to ease his worries and keep an eye on you, the decision to temporarily settle in Vila Aaru was mutually agreed, providing Cyno with a momentary sense of peace knowing that his very pregnant wife would be surrounded by competent and trustworthy people. And then, his children could be born in a comfortable and safe environment.
The decision couldn't have been the best because a few months later and just a few minutes apart, Aryan and Isaar were born on a cold night.
The leader of the Matras still can remember that it was when he was returning to the village from a patrol when he was greeted first by your painful screams and then by the sight of your sweaty and tearful figure. Your husband didn't think twice before taking Candace's place behind your back to give you the support you needed, sharing his strength with you and whispering comforting words in your ear.
Internally, Cyno felt more than terrified for this new stage in his life despite all the previous months of mental preparation. But as he watched in amazement Aryan in his arms and Isaar in yours, the mahamatra concluded that there were no books or scrolls in the world that could describe the feelings that coursed through his veins at that moment. There wasn't enough knowledge that could teach him how to be a father, and even so, he knew he’d learn along the way to be the best he could.
The first few weeks of adaptation were exhausting for both of you. Cyno was on leave from his position, being at yours and his babies disposal and dealing with most of the household tasks, which relieved you a lot. But if he ever thought that nothing would overcome the hardness of his work at Akademiya, the sleepless nights with his newborn twins proved him wrong. 
It wasn't something he complained about or refused to take on, though. He preferred you to rest as much as you could after spending the whole day with the children — it was more his lack of confidence in dealing with the little ones in your absence that tormented him.
As time went on, however, what he thought were difficult tasks became routine, so he could say with some confidence that he had adapted to fatherhood quite well. The bond between father and sons was also something that developed beautifully as the days went by, and some mornings, you’d be greeted with the sweet sight of the General Mahamatra sleeping on the armchair in the twins' room while holding both of them in his muscular arms.
Speaking of the twins, Aryan and Isaar couldn’t be as physically similar to Cyno more than they were already. The babies, just a few months old, have already demonstrated that they share the same personality with each other, which they also take after their father — the stoic and slightly indifferent expression frighteningly similar to Cyno. Aryan was a little more sullen, refusing to acknowledge others' attempts to make him smile while Isaar willingly raised his arms to familiar faces with the intention of getting something in return. 
While you watched them in disbelief, your husband smiled proudly. It seems his children were already good judges of character.
Strange in its own way, but a home full of love. That would be the phrase to define your family. Although both you had divergent methods of raising your children, the twins still had complete freedom of decision about what they judged to be right or wrong. Cyno would never punish his sons for their choices; instead, he’d wisely correct them. Even though outwardly he shows rigidity and authority, Cyno is quite soft when it comes to his family so he can't stay mad at you for long.
It was honestly a strange sight for many, mainly his subordinates and the scholars who knew the man's unorthodox methods of discipline very well.
Even so, they couldn’t help but admit that fatherhood suited him well. Strangely, but still.
They only feared the possibility that in the future the boys would develop a sense of humor as horrible as their father.
Kaveh
If they asked Kaveh what his greatest achievements are, he’d readily answer that there are three of them, although two had the greatest highlights.
Even if the architect was proud of the effort and dedication that led him to give life to the Palace of Alcazarzaray, the importance of the project seemed to be irrelevant compared to the fact that he managed to win you heart. After all, maybe there was nothing so disputed between men and women all around of Teyvat but to capture the attention of the Gem of Liyue. And in a way as ironic and simple as it seemed to be, Kaveh was the only one to be able to accomplish such a feat.
As the younger sister of the Tianquan of the Qixing, it wasn’t surprising that you were also known for your intelligence, elegance and beauty, so it was expected of your people that you’d marry someone with all these qualities and wealth that could satisfy your desires. 
However, they didn't know you as well as Ningguang and how Kaveh came to know you, and so, it was unexpected news that resonated for weeks when you announced your marriage.
At that time, so much uproar from the press and liyuean citizens had made Kaveh doubt himself because, well… did he even have all the means necessary to provide you with a comfortable life? He was slowly recovering from his debts and had barely started building his own house. Compared to you who literally lived in a mansion and ate from a golden platter he had nothing.
Nevertheless, you assured him that no gold or mora in the whole world could equal the love you had for him, only his reciprocal affection was what you were looking for.
And because your husband cares and loves you so deeply, Kaveh couldn't feel anything but thankfulness when you granted him with the greatest pride of his life. His daughter, Zahra.
The baby hadn't even been born and was already very adored by her father. During your pregnancy, Kaveh had been nothing but a passionate and devoted husband, helpful and attentive to both you and her. His passion for art led him to challenge himself and bring only the best when it comes to projecting Zahra's room, as well as designing the crib and its decorations. You couldn't help but watch with a smile on your face as he worked hard to provide only the best for his child.
When Zahra decided to come into the world, your husband's tearful, fascinated face only confirmed what you already knew: Kaveh would be an extraordinary father.
“I swear that I’ll protect you from all the cruelty of this world. And even if the day comes that I don't have the strength to do so, I’ll still keep you safe”, he promised as he placed a kiss on the baby's forehead.
You just smiled with equally teary eyes at the sweet scene.
Kaveh didn't know the meaning of the word tired when it came to his daughter. The blonde man loved having the baby in his arms, and when it came to her basic needs, he was a great help by proudly taking on the tasks. In fact, in the first weeks of Zahra's life, he had refused to let her sleep alone in her new room, and when you insisted on putting her in her crib, Kaveh would spend the entire night by her side. He’d never forgive himself if something happened to his little princess in his absence.
You could just roll your eyes.
As Zahra grew up, she became an increasingly beautiful girl and was much loved by her parents. Her naturally rosy cheeks and golden hair decorated with barrettes or bows made people compare her to a doll. The girl has a beauty and features similar to her father, though her sweet and laughing personality is her own traits. Kaveh feared that one day the evil of the world would take away the melodious sounds of her laughter, but there was a slight mischievous gleam in her golden eyes that betrayed that she was quite clever too.
In addition to her parents' unconditional love, Zahra also has a close relationship with her mother's sister, who has a weak spot for her niece, and with her paternal grandmother. 
Shortly before marrying you, the older woman had tried to invest more in her son's life, now making sure of participating in dinners, commemorative dates or holidays.
For a long time Kaveh believed that he wasn’t worthy of such happiness. After his father's death and his mother's estrangement, the architect had a single objective: trying to survive one day at a time, fighting his own demons and relying on what little was left of his savings. He had never considered himself a man of honor, someone who was worthy of having his own family and a home to return to. In fact, he didn't consider himself a lucky man at all.
And yet, he couldn't feel as fortunate as he did because through all the paths he took and decisions he made, one of them led him to you and gave him the greatest achievements of his life.
Alhaitham
Hardly anyone would admit it out loud, but your presence in the halls of Akademiya was as fresh as a breath of spring air.
As the new Darshan teacher of Haravatat, your intelligence and passion for knowledge were characteristics that not only your students came to admire, but even the sages themselves gushed praise about, which eventually earned you a reputation that spread throughout the dendro nation. Furthermore, your beauty and charisma only complemented your charm, so there were many hearts that you had caught along the way — and consequently also have broken, as the slight bulge beneath your clothes and the golden ring shining on your left ring finger made it very clear who yours already belonged to.
To say that the beginning of your relationship with the Akademiya’s Scribe was even the subject of an academic thesis would be an understatement given that Alhaitham wasn’t someone who was known for his friendliness much less cordiality. In fact, his disinterested expression and acid humor worked precisely as a mechanism to purposefully keep people away from him, and even his friends weren’t immune to his unpleasant comments.
But even though the question remained, the students quickly learned that this attitude would never apply to you.
Like a moth drawn to the light, Alhaitham was equally drawn to you, they concluded. There was something about you that just your presence was enough to generate a small and not so noticeable change in Alhaitham's aura, even if to others he remained as rigid as he was. Besides, the progress of your pregnancy had also shown them that the scribe was as human as they were, he just had a less flashy way of showing his concern and care for his wife.
What the scholars and citizens of Sumeru saw, however, was just the tip of the iceberg compared to the affection you received from your husband when the doors to your home closed. Although Alhaitham hadn't shown his excitement as openly as you, the scribe was internally happy to begin a new stage of life by your side. And you could see this in the number of maternity books and notebooks with notes organized in his office, in the meals he had prepared meticulously thinking about nutritional values ​​or in the care he took to suggest and choose a simple and meaningful name for your baby.
His actions were small and discreet, but enough to prove to you that he already loved the child as much as you did.
Hakim's arrival into the world also showed you the efforts your husband would make for his son. With a smile gracing his lips and slightly teary eyes, Alhaitham allowed himself to express himself a little more in the face of such a beautiful moment. It wasn't something that even you saw frequently and, therefore, you’d certainly make sure to eternalizing the picture forever in your memory.
“Thank you”, was the only thing he could say to you while looking at you with enormous tenderness.
Despite the overwhelming happiness that coursed within him, the scribe also couldn't help but feel a little empty at his grandmother's absence. Even though the longing was something he had managed for a long time now, it was in moments like these that the lady's absence came back. He was sure she’d love meeting you and her great-grandson, but wherever she was, he also knew she was taking care of his family in her own way.
Furthermore, looking at you and the child that slept so peacefully in his arms, Alhaitham knew that there was nothing to fear and that his son would grow up in a home filled with as much love as he was.
Therefore, fatherhood wasn't something that scared Alhaitham nor did it make him doubt his ability to take care of his son. If someone asked him what his biggest challenges were, he wouldn't be able to think of any because every day he was faced with something new and learned from it. Plus, Hakim was a sweet and quiet baby, a mix of both parents' personalities. Understanding his child's needs was as easy as if they were his own.
Still so small, Hakim would be surrounded by reading and multiple knowledge, often being found in the arms of one of his parents while you were working or simply reading for pleasure. You discovered that the baby liked to listen to you or Alhaitham reading aloud, so it wasn't strange to find you or your husband somewhere in the house reciting some academic article with the little one within reach.
When the boy was old enough to sit up, that’d be the time when you’d return to teaching at Akademiya, and even if your baby's presence during classes had already been discussed and authorized, Alhaitham wouldn’t hesitate to take over his care — whether taking him to his own office or to the Sanctuary of Surasthana where he would spend hours enjoying the attention of Lesser Lord Kusanali.
You could say that Alhaitham is a simplistic man. He recognizes his flaws and knows that he came with many of them, which is why he distances himself from so many people. But it was in the moments when he returned home, returning to you and your son who were waiting for him with great enthusiasm that the man thought that there was nothing as perfect as his own home.
.
.
you guys will have to forgive me again but i did not beta-read this part (clearly) nor i'll have the patience to do so because i'm currently traveling at my granny's home and it's so hot here that i couldn't even write this whole headcanon without stop everytime to take a breath of fresh air. therefore, i won't have the patience to look for mistakes now. i'll let it with you tho.
also, i remember i've said in the last part that if perhaps i start to write a genshin dad series i'd write only for the first four man i came up the idea to. however, i'm hypocrital and slut for the sumeru men too so i couldn't stop myself but draft their children biography.
i really hope you've like it so far because, for real, alhaitham's part was the hardest one and somehow i feel like this isn’t good enough to be posted. nevertheless, thank you for your reading :)
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rene-darling · 19 days
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WOULD- he send n00ds? And how?
...would these modern college AU genshin men send n00ds to you?...
...Xiao...wanderer...lyney...
Xiao
No.
Absolutely- not.
The very idea is preposterous and disgusting. And after all, he's heard wayyy too many stories of a person's nudes getting leaked, and he does not want his stuff all out there.
He trusts you, yes. But especially at the beginning of your relationship, there's not enough trust for him to do that.
Xiao doesn't usually go to frat parties, but his friend is the one throwing this one so he felt obliged to go. What could go wrong?
Xiao doesn't drink, nor does he party, but after chugging drink after drink and being sat in a circle playing truth or dare, his tipsy mind is feeling rather- ballsy.
So it goes as follows, he picks dare and gets dared into sending nudes to the last person he's messaged, Xiao's great at keeping secrets so no one knows that you're dating, truth be told- even in his drunken state if the last number he texted had been anyone else, he wouldn't have done it.
But it's you. So his drunken mind agrees. He takes a rather risky photo, some alcohol is dripping from his mouth, sweat runs down his forehead, his back is arched and he gives such a sultry look. Then, he presses sent. The rest of his night is spent partying and drinking more, so his memory of doing this fades into bliss- that is, until the next morning.
Accompanying his painful headache is a certain memory, that makes him physically gag in remembrance, he rushes to check his phone, hoping- praying that you didn't see it- he thinks he's gonna faint from embarrassment when he sees the little *seen* at the bottom of the text.
Fuck. You saw it. You didn't even respond- he shoves his head into the pillow screaming externally and internally- you fucking saw it! And-...you didn't even respond..does that mean you don't like it..? Wait. That's the least of his worries!!!
He's happy about the fact that he doesn't have to see you in his first few classes. But then, it's time for a class that you both have together.
He has half the mind just to skip, but eventually, he has to face you, better be it now than later right?
Whatever, it'll be fine, he'll just explain to you- that he didn't mean it, he was drunk n at a party he wasn't thinkin-
Suddenly Xiao hisses as he's pulled into the janitors closet on his way to class, he swiftly turns his head to glare at the person who did this- it's you.
"So, Xiao, about the pictures you sent. I called you at least 10 times after those, but..you didn't answer." He opens and closes his mouth like a fish, his whole plan goes out the window as he just meekly stares up at you. This wasn't what he expected, but it wasn't something he disliked-..perhaps...he should send some to you even when he has clarity of mind?
Wanderer
Far too skeptical to entertain such a thought.
If you mention it first he'll just scoff at you and give you a dirty glare "Do I look like one of your whores?" "But baby- you're my only whore not one of them-" expect to get a glare from him the whole lecture, in and out of the class. His stare is practically sending you a death threat
Later, if he catches himself thinking about what you asked of him he cringes at himself and the thought.
He's not one to trust people easily, he's been stabbed in the back, and betrayed far too much to be vulnerable enough and to trust you enough to send nudes.
His head runs wild, what if you didn't like what you saw? What if you decided he was so ugly you needed to share those photos with those around you? What if, what if what if.
It's only later on, deep into your relationship that the thought of sending pics crosses his mind once more.
He's tapping his foot harshly against the ground. He's sitting at his seat as students pour into the lecture hall, his eyes scan the room as he sees you walk in and wave at him, just like always. You sit next to him, but he just can't maintain eye contact.
He has his phone in his right hand, staring at the screen intently as the sound of the classroom processes as background noise for him. Should he? What if you don't like it? What if you just meant it as a joke and you'll actually get disgusted once you gaze upon the photos..?
He sighs resting his head on his desk in contemplation. 'I mean...I took some measures just in case, I'm sending it on snap so she can't save or look at it again..fuck-..it should be fine..right..?' his thoughts are jumbled but ultimately he- "fuck it." And he presses sent.
Now it's just a matter of waiting for you to check your phone, it's like the clock is ticking extra slowly and you're doing this on purpose, aren't you? You heard the ding so check the goddamn phone already- and then you picked up your phone, once you noticed it was your boyfriend who texted you, you glanced at him, a confused expression, he's sitting right next to you- so why would he- oh.
Almost immediately you duck your phone down under your desk, you don't want to share this sight with any eyes that aren't yours.
"..why now? Fuck- you look pretty..?" Your mumbling- he has you mumbling. That's a good thing right?
And- and you complimented him- that means you liked it right?
He's such a brat, sending you a photo of his back arched, his tongue sticking out as he was wearing a short skirt with thigh highs, you could catch a glimpse under it from the picture- in which you could tell he wasn't wearing anything.
Your boyfriend who loved baggy clothes and dark styles was wearing a pink flirry skirt!
Heats pooling in your pants as you glare at him,
He had a smug look on his face- looking oh so proud. Anyways- he thought you would wait and fuck him after class. But once he felt your hand creeping up his thigh his eyes widened in shock as he realized you had no plans to wait until after the lecture.
lyney
Agrees.
Well- he's definitely startled at your request, out of all things...this is what you desire most?
"mon amour- out of all things I- gulp didn't expect you to ask for n-...indecent photos." He's startled to say the least,
But he's not completely against the idea of it.
Your darling lyney is a magician, quick on his feet, he quite quickly puts that flustered face away to replace it for a rather cheeky one.
"Mon amour, I knew you missed me whenever I was busy practicing for my shows but to this extent! my-"
"forget it." His smug attitude is a turn off. At times.
Letting go of the idea you didn't really think he would go through with it anytime soon.
You don't expect anything unusual to happen today, like always you kiss lyney good luck for his show before heading to the audience to watch him perform from there.
Lyney's cheeky grin is noticed by you, but you just assume he's giddy for his show, heading into the audience to wait for your boyfriend,
you hear a ding. And as you open the message you drop your phone to the ground. It's a simple picture, it's of lyney, he sends you pictures of himself on the daily so what was so shocking about this one?
Well- for starters he's naked. Tied up with intricate red ropes, they look tight, especially around his thighs- wait. You recognize those ropes, they're the same ones he's gonna use for his performance today!-
And he does. Flaunting around those ropes in his performance, the same ones from the damn photos.
Lyney walks into his dressing room as usual- that is before he's pinned to the wall by none other than you.
"oh? Are you that excited to congratulate me on today's performance?" As your hand tightens around his wrist he starts to feel even more giddy
"what the fuck was that? " "Hm? Did you mind? It was a present." He's so smug.
"no- the ropes. You used the same ones from the performance didn't you- you cheeky fuck-"
"the ropes are over there, if you plan on doing something you should hurry, I have a fan meet n greet soon~" "oh I'll hurry alright."
You didn't hurry, for some reason unknown to his fans, the magician was unable to attend the meet n greet.
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kaunaz · 8 months
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hey. so. i need the Ultrakill community to understand something, in case Hakita doesn't say anything about it.
Unity, the company, has decided to begin charging developers that made games with their software, once they meet a certain threshold. if a game earns $200,000 within 12 months, and 200,000 installs of said game happen total, the devs will be billed a flat rate of 20 cents per install. RETROACTIVELY. which is already a major blow to everyone who's ever found success with Unity (hint: Ultrakill is made in Unity).
to make this worse, the company is not planning to use tracking software to figure out how many installs have happened, like we THOUGHT they might, and aren't doing a good job of clarifying what an "install" even means. instead, they have stated that they'll be using a "proprietary data model" to determine this number per game. translation: they're making up numbers with AI. they don't even care. it's basically robbery and we're pretty sure this is mad illegal.
these changes are being finalized by January 1st of 2024.
game developers have the following options:
1) pay the bullshit fee.
2) port their entire game into another engine and re-release it in said engine.
3) cancel their Unity subscription and remove their game from all stores.
i don't know what this means for Ultrakill. maybe Hakita can pay the fee. maybe he'll try to port into Godot or Unreal. or maybe he will just decide it's not worth it to keep going. i don't know. i don't know what sort of person he is.
no matter what happens, PLEASE try to enjoy the game while you can. if development continues, expect delays. lots of them. above all, DO NOT GET ANGRY AT HAKITA IF THE GAME NEEDS TO BE DELAYED OR SHUT DOWN. THE BLAME FOR ANY PROBLEMS GOING FORWARD LIES SOLELY ON UNITY'S CORPORATE GREED.
Hakita, if you're reading this, please just do whatever you think is best. it's your game, your life. we enjoyed everything you've done so far, and for me, that's good enough.
1K notes · View notes
webslingingslasher · 2 months
Text
Unknown Sender
happy valentine's day!
MONDAY: 13:52 
‘hi.’ Peter squints at the message, then the unsaved number. He's not sure how, but it’s a scam. 
‘i’d like to have your attention, please.’ Peter rolls his eyes, swiping left to not only delete but report the number as junk. No doubt it was a bot or someone with a flair for sextortion. 
A new number. ‘that was actually so rude of you, parker.’ 
‘unblock me right now.’ 
Peter shifts in his seat, he does a slow look around the room and finds nothing off putting or alarming. 
‘Who is this?’ 
Green bubbles pop up. ‘unblock me and i’ll tell you.’ Peter was right to guess about extortion. Another swipe, blocked and reported. Peter wasn’t participating in any games. 
A new number. ‘oh, now you’re just being cute.’ 
Peter feels his heart pick up a bit, it’s a tad threatening and now he’s overthinking it a little. What if someone has it out for him? Is there a mark on his back? ‘Please leave me alone.’ 
‘no.’ 
‘can we play 21 questions?’ 
Peter’s face scrunches up, he spins his head around one more time, someone is fucking with him. He has no clue who has time for something like that in university, but he’s not a willing participant anymore, not since high school. 
‘Leave me alone. Go torment a freshman.’ 
‘i don’t like freshmen. i like you.’ Peter chews at his bottom lip, there was a second of hesitancy but he knows the truth deep down. ‘I’m blocking you.’ 
‘sure. i’ll keep texting you, too.’ 
‘I’ll change my number.’ 
‘noooo please don’t do that. i had to work hard enough to get it the first time.’ Peter doesn’t respond. He blocks the number and moves on, and they don’t try to text him again.
Until the next day and Peter knows two things for certain. There is a note in his backpack, and it wasn’t there before his econ lecture. He remembers pulling that pocket open before he started notes, then when he went to zip it up, a note. 
This upsets him. What good was any sense when someone could get that unnoticeably close to him without him knowing? Second, it’s a little frustrating not to know who this person is and how it most likely is connected to the texts he had a few days ago, and that it’s an extremely long played joke that’s mostly boring. 
‘Peter Parker- 
You’ve been secretly admired. It might not be very secret, because I think you’ve caught me staring at you a thousand times. I like you a lot. 
Hopefully liked back, 
-X’ 
But a part of him believes it’s true. He’s trying to think of who’s in his lecture, if he’s caught them staring then they’re either to the side or behind him. There are too many faces, too many times he’s been looked at, he’s almost centered, it’s his fault for choosing a focal point. 
Instead of throwing it away, he refolds the pink handwriting and puts it back into place before hitching a strap over his shoulder and sliding behind chairs. One, two steps up he glances at your face, you have a weak smile, he returns the same kind, it’s more like a polite nod. Peter’s always thought you were pretty and he thinks you're nice. 
But really, he’s wondering who left the note. 
10:30
‘did you get my note?’ Peter does his normal scan across campus, again, his fault for being out in the open. This person could be anywhere, he’s on a picnic bench with a group of friends. If he’s smart, he’d start limiting himself to contained spaces and make you show yourself. 
‘Yeah. Who is this?’ Peter’s thumbs dance around the screen waiting for a reply, it comes quick. ‘i told you. x.’ He stops himself from rolling his eyes, he doesn’t know anyone with an ‘X’ anywhere in their name. 
‘Is that an initial?’ 
‘actually, i’m pretty sure it’s british for kiss.’ 
‘That’s a wild take. Are you saying the UK is responsible for XOXO’s?’ 
‘i’d like to make you responsible for my xoxo’s.’ Peter chews his bottom lip, he won’t play into anything in writing. He doesn’t believe this for a second, everything about this feels off. Someone’s fucking with him and they’re also in his class, or they have someone in on it in his class. 
But this is too advanced.
‘sorry. i don’t mean to like harass you or anything. you’re really hot but you scare me, i don’t think you would like me so idk, maybe if you talk to me you’d like me for me or something.’ 
‘i just think i’m punching wayyyy above my weight class here and i may be making this worse because there is no doubt you think im weird.’ 
‘i am weird. i should leave you alone now. i’m sorry.’ 
Peter reads his screen four times, it’s still not clicking. He’s nothing special and he doesn’t mean that in a way to dog on himself, he’s just nerdy and quiet. It seems a little too authentic to be fake, but he’s got to make sure. 
‘How’d you get my number?’ 
‘your friend. they have been sworn to secrecy but they know what i’m doing and they are in full support. take that as you will.’ 
‘Depends on the friend.’ 
‘i’ll tell you when you find out who i am.’ 
‘I’m going to find out? You’re not going to tell me?’ 
‘i don’t think i’ve been hiding it. you just haven’t been paying attention and now i want you to.’ 
‘Oh, but you’re shy?’ 
‘i’m about to pass out on the lawn behind this fucking screen, don’t play with me parker.’ A slip, you’re around him and you just admitted it. ‘Tell me, admirer, what are you wearing?’ The more detail the better, but he could work off of just a color. 
‘nice try. but you’re looking mighty handsome in the blue.’ A glance down, he suddenly feels watched. ‘Are you stalking me?’ 
‘oh no! no no no. i PROMISE you i’m not that fucking psychotic.’
‘i’m just a “sneak a note into your backpack” level of crazy. i’m here with my roommate and her boyfriend. i saw you and just wanted to know if you got it, i promise.’ 
‘You do understand that this situation makes you seem psychotic, right?’ 
‘yes. but i am not.’ 
‘That sounds like something a crazy person who got my number from a third party would say. Especially after I blocked you six times.’ 
‘it was three and you didn’t understand my intentions but okay. you have a fair point and i extend the olive branch of brett. he gave me your number and he knows me pretty well.’ 
Brett? Easy enough, he nods his head towards him and slides his phone across the table. “Explain.” His friend scrolls through the thread, a trustworthy smile spreads. “Yeah, I gave her your number.” Her. Okay, it’s something. “Who is she?” Brett shrugs, “you know her. She’s kind of a firecracker, you just make her nervous.” 
“That gives me nothing, Brett.” His friend blinks, “she’s not crazy. She likes you a lot for whatever fucking reason and has no idea how to approach you.” Peter’s letting his words soak in, “don’t believe me? Ask her about the grilled cheese, and make sure you tell her that I told you about how she went on for five fucking minutes about the grilled cheese.” 
“What grilled cheese?” Brett slides Peter’s phone back, he’s telling him to ask you. Something tells Peter it’s enough to embarrass, or it might be Brett being the ultimate wingman.
‘I’ve been told to ask you about the grilled cheese.’ 
‘oh god. there is no need to ask about the grilled cheese, did brett tell you about the grilled cheese?’ 
‘He told me to ask you. And to specify that you went on for five minutes about it.’ 
‘five is excessive, it was more like three. second, there is nothing to speak about.’ 
‘I would like to hear about it.’ 
‘i’d prefer if you didn’t.’ 
‘But you’ll do it for me?’ 
‘i’m weak for you and you know it. it’s sicking, parker.’ 
‘i heard you talking about making one in class and you said something about the crust and i really fucking love grilled cheese’s so i had a trip to fantasy land where you made me one and how it’s probably the best thing i’ll never get to taste.’ 
‘Wow. Five whole minutes on that?’ Peter won’t admit it made him feel a little warm on the inside, the most mundane of things to have someone so squirrely makes him feel unworthy. 
‘three.’ 
‘Tell me who you are and I’ll make you a grilled cheese.’ 
‘you have no idea how much that almost worked.’ 
‘What’s the plan then, master manipulator?’ 
‘i don’t know yet. i’m hoping you show me how smart you are and figure me out, then you can do all the hard questions.’ 
‘Hard questions?’ 
‘you know, do you wanna go on a date, do you wanna be my girlfriend, do you want to take my hand in marriage and have a summer home in the french alps? that kind of stuff.’ 
‘Totally not psychotic.’ Peter tucks his bottom lip between his teeth to hide the smile that wants to spread. 
‘mostly not.’ 
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WEDNESDAY: 13:57
Peter doesn’t know who X is, but they’re clever and have zero effect on his sixth sense. He doesn’t know if that’s a good or bad thing. Either way, he’s reading a note scribbled in blue pen and as he studies the words he knows it was rushed. It’s proof that he wasn’t being followed everywhere, instead you saw an empty table and an opportunity. 
‘Peter- 
You use mostly gender neutral pronouns. I think that’s very cool. Is it weird that I notice those things about you? Also- what is it that you’re always drinking from Nuthouse? Asking for a friend… 
Have a good day! 
-Your not so secret admirer, X. 
‘Not so secret,’ Peter isn’t sure about that. You’ve done a good enough job at not trying to be obviously known, he might have looked up your number last night to find dust. One was from an app, but the one you’ve been using is a burner phone. 
What he’s really not understanding is how you’re able to get so close to him without him noticing. You had to have been millimeters away when you rested the letter on his backpack, he was gone for less than two minutes and he had zero awareness. 
Peter folds up the note and sticks it in the same pocket as the other one, his back slung around one shoulder as he moves up the stairs for the library. At the same time, you come down the opposite side, Peter gives a friendly acknowledgement. 
You choke down the lump in your throat. “Hi, Peter.” He’s already past you, it’s echoed behind his shoulder. “Hey.” It’s something. You’re trying, you’re trying to be bold for him. But he’s not going to notice, he’s never going to notice you and if you tell him who you are you’ll never live past his disappointment. 
Your phone vibrates, the other phone. Your heart picks up, Peter texted first. 
 14:02 
‘Dirty chai.’ 
‘best of both worlds. how fitting. you’re such a nonconforming king.’ 
‘I don’t even know what that means.’ 
‘But thank you?’ 
‘you’re welcome!’ 
‘anything fun on the roster today?’ 
‘Roster? Who are you?’ 
‘idk you make me nervous. blame yourself.’ 
‘Well, coach. Nothing fun on the roster, just some math. Wanna swap places with me?’ 
‘gross. i hate math so if you like it that’s good with me. one of us has to be smart and it’s not me.’
‘Smart enough to use a burner phone.’ 
‘oooooh, someone tried to find meeee.’ 
‘Can’t blame a guy for being curious, can you?’ 
‘were you disappointed when you found nothing?’ 
‘A little bit. But, you know, it keeps the imagination alive. A little unfair advantage on your side though, you already know what I look like.’ 
‘if it helps, you already know what i look like too.’ 
‘I do?’ 
‘yeah. we’ve talked before.’ 
‘Wait, so I know who you are?’ Brett said he did but Peter thought he meant you’d be familiar, not that he actually knew you. This just opened the floodgates to a million more possibilities. 
‘not really but yeah i guess. you know i exist but we’re not friends or anything.’ 
‘I’d like to think we’re friends, but okay.’ 
‘not outside the texting.’ 
‘That’s your decision.’ 
‘HATER.’ 
‘Anymore hints?’ 
‘.... no.’ 
‘HATER.’ 
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FRIDAY: 12:15
You’re about to spill hot tea everywhere but it’ll be worth it to see his face. You ignore your pounding heart and stand in front of him. He’s got no clue you showed up, zoned out looking at the clock on the wall across from him. 
“Hi, Peter.” 
Full frontal attention, he’s looking at you. He’s perceiving you, he’s smiling at you. “Hi,” your eyes expand, he knows your name and it sounds so nice coming from his mouth. Sure, you’ve chatted with each other- even shared a few highlighters, but nothing serious. You’ve always been too scared to try anything else but maybe your fear has been mistaken for indifference. 
“I um, I lucked out today at Nuthouse so if you like dirty chai’s I got an extra one.” Your knees feel weak at his bright eyes, “my favorite. I’d love one, thank you.” You pass over the paper cup, your fingers brush and you think you’re about to collapse. 
“Yeah,” a weak laugh. “I had a feeling.” Peter tilts his head at you funny, you wonder if you pushed a little too far. “Okay, um, I’m gonna… have a good… lecture.” Peter nods and watches you go two rows up, he’s finally got a gut feeling. And it tells him to keep an eye out for you. 
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TUESDAY: 12:10
Not that Peter was reliant on your attention, he was used to it. So when the texts stopped for three days and he was unable to find any letters he assumed you had lost interest and moved on. That felt fair to him, no harm no foul, at least he never really got to know you. 
Nevermind, there’s a folded notebook page on his miniature desk and his heart speeds up. His next task, put eyes on you. Bottom level, book and pencil in hand. He makes sure to note it’s a pencil and not the green ink that’s spread across the page. 
Peter thinks it’s a mind game, you were smart enough to know he’d look. Unless he was totally wrong on his guess. 
‘Peter- 
I ran out of minutes on my phone and I’m having a broke college kid moment. However, a friend took pity and donated a twenty to the campaign. I hope you’ve been good- I’ve missed talking to you. 
- Your not so secret admirer, X’ 
ps. stop keeping your backpack so close to you.’
It wasn’t anything personal, you just ran out of minutes. Peter smiles so wide he has to drop it, he almost clutches the paper to his chest in a thank you. Eyeing his backpack, he nudges it a little further behind him, following instruction. He’s kept it close in hopes to catch you, but instead he’s pushing you away. 
Peter’s committing the writing to memory as if he’s going to find you by the handwriting alone. A quick glance at footsteps, you’re three steps away when you smile. “Hi, Peter.” He nods, “hey.” You pause for a moment, mind racing for words. 
“Did you, um- did you do anything fun this weekend?” You’re about to crawl into a hole and die, it takes a moment to click that you were speaking to him. He went as far to look behind himself, then he spewed the answer to try and make up for the lost time. 
“Oh, uh not really. My aunt got a new bed so I had to lug the old one down seven flights of stairs.” Your eyes widen, you feel your mouth go dry and your tongue go thick. “By yourself?” Peter crosses his arms over his chest, a boyish grin swept over and you feel heart eyes form. 
“I’m a good nephew.” You want to pat his head and tell him you’re sure he is, then maybe hold him at gunpoint and tell you more stories about how he’s a perfect humanitarian. But you act like a normal human and smile back, “you sound like it.” 
Peter thanks you and you return to your seat with wobbly knees and a weak stomach, it’s silent torture to tease yourself like this with him. But you can’t help it and it’s only in effort to go after what you want. Even if it blows up when he figures out who you are. 
12:13
‘you’re looking mighty handsome today, mr. parker.’ 
‘I’m wearing a hoodie, but thank you.’ 
‘i said what i said.’ 
Boldly, ‘i see someone had another dirty chai. can’t stay away from them, can you?’ 
Another tick in Peter's stomach, he almost looks behind his shoulder at you, but he doesn’t. ‘It was a generous donation from a classmate.’ 
‘oh? pray tell, peter. pray tell.’ 
‘What? You don’t have a clue about who gave it to me?’ 
You swallow thickly, before you could get something out he sent another message. ‘No chance you didn’t see it go down?’ 
‘how could i? I was still on my way.’ 
‘... or was i?’ 
‘Tell you what, X. It one of the best teas I’ve had in a while.’ 
And you’d be damned if that didn’t make your entire chest flutter. 
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FRIDAY: 15:29
“Here,” Peter’s hand clasped over the paper slapped into his chest. A hint of a syllable, Brett cuts himself off. “She asked me to give this to you.” Peter quickly read it and stared down before confiding in his friend for a second. 
‘Peter- 
Roses are red, violets are blue, all that I think about is you. 
It’s sweet in a cringy way, right? Boo on you for skipping class today, if you want, I could get you some notes. 
I hope I’ll see you Tuesday. 
-Your (really) not so secret admirer, X
ps. A pen exploded in my pocket. 10/10 chance my thigh will be stained.’
“I think I might know who it is.” 
“Uh, huh.” 
“But, she’s way out of my league.” 
“Correct.” 
Peter raised his eyebrows, “so it’s her?” He clarified with your name, Brett shrugged back. 
“I won’t be confirming or denying.” Peter knows what that means, “the lack of a no usually means yes.” 
“Bro,” Peter starts sputtering, “oh, c’mon! You know what I meant, I just meant that, I just- c’mon, Brett. Is it her?” 
“I have no idea who that is.” Peter wants to call bullshit, he has a gut feeling and he swears it’s you. You’re right, it’s not so secret. In fact, you’re painfully obvious. 
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FRIDAY: 23:14 
‘you are soooooooo cute’ 
‘like your hair is so cute’ 
‘i looooove curly hair on guys and you have that!!!!!!!!!’ 
‘and you’re really funny cause like it’s so quick and witty like you have such good one liners’ 
‘also you’re really fucking hot and i KNOW you’re hiding something under those fucking sweaters and the second i see skin i WILL go feral.’ 
‘Something tells me you’re at the Kappa party.’ Peter’s pretending he doesn’t have a searing blush. If he’s got an inkling this could be you… then he might have proof for the non-believers that god exists. 
‘yes!!! are you here?? i should come see you.’ 
‘I hate to disappoint you, but I’m currently at a friend's house playing a Mario Kart drinking game.’ 
“But it’s nice to know that you’d give me your identity that quick.’ 
‘oh i can tell you who i am.’ Peter frowns at the text, he’s been doing nothing but crave the answer to who’s behind the love letters but it feels wrong. It’s not satisfactory enough for him, it’s also not what you want, you’re just drunk- and Peter’s going out on a limb here- horny. 
‘Save it for later.’ 
‘And maybe drink some water.’ 
‘i’d do anything for you cause you have the world's prettiest brown eyes’
‘Thank you for the compliments.’ 
‘you’re super welcome i try to hold them back because i’m a good girl but you’re just so cute i had to let you know’ 
‘I think you’re going to super regret this in the morning.’ 
‘false. maybe fact idk’
‘i should trust you tho because you’re super smart and you’re a nerd.’ 
‘I fear this is taking a turn for the worse.’ 
‘and that is so fucking HOT’
‘Oh. Back to compliments. Thank you.’ 
‘if you were here i’d give you a kiss’
‘IGNORE THAT!!!!’
‘I DIDN’T MEAN TO SEND THAT!!!! IGNORE IT’ 
‘Not ignored. How cute.’ 
‘screaming crying throwing up’ 
‘i really didn’t mean to send that it was a joke ha ha funny.’ 
‘Idk, sounded authentic to me.’ 
‘peter?’ 
‘Yeah?’ 
‘i’m a little drunk rn. and you should know how cute you are.’ 
‘Oh, I’m talking about record breaking levels of regret. This is amazing.’ 
‘i have to pee but i do not reget this!!!!!!’ 
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SATURDAY: 09:54
‘i stand by my claim and do not regret a thing.’ 
‘correction. i regret this hangover and the way my previous texts are not very cool girl of me.’ 
‘but i would like to know if you won mario last night.’
‘also, who’s ur fav character?’ 
11:12
1. Proud of you for owning it, that’s very cool girl of you. 
2. I did not win. 
3. Petey Piranha. 
‘who tf is petey piranha.’
‘Mario Kart Sunshine. Came out in 2002. (Originally on GameCube but recently released on switch.) (Hell yeah.)’ 
Your heart thumps, he’s such a nerd and you wanna kiss the air out of his lungs. ‘out of all the characters and u choose him. why petey piranha’ 
‘One guess.’ 
‘PETEY PIRANHA.’ 
‘OH MY GOD.’ 
‘you’re petey piranha <333’ 
Peter fights a grin, ‘I am.’ 
‘you’re so cute. i love that.’ 
‘Personally, in the past 24 hours I don’t think I’ve heard enough about how cute I am.’
‘you’re insufferable and it’s sexy.’ 
‘Oo, new one to the mix. You’re making me blush.’ You really are. He’s never been considered sexy before and it feels really nice. 
‘and i bet you look super cute.’ 
‘Super true.’ 
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TUESDAY: 12:34
‘white t shirt white t shirt white t shirt WHITE T SHIRT.’ 
‘You like?’ 
‘i’m about to cry i’m biting my fist so fucking hard.’ 
‘:)’ 
‘you’re so ubuibabeyia.’ 
‘Bless you.’ 
‘?’ 
‘Sorry, I assumed you sneezed.’ Peter never whipped his head around so fast at an audible laugh behind him. It was short, it had escaped without being thought about. He’s looking for you, but it doesn’t seem like it was you who laughed. You’re engrossed in chatting to your neighbor. 
On the other hand, you almost blew it by clasping your hands over your mouth. Instead you looked next to you and said, directly and with a burning gaze, “I need you to pretend we’ve been talking this whole time.” 
‘Someone’s losing their edge, you’re just begging to be caught.’ 
‘oh, i’m begging all right.’ 
‘can you hear me whimpering too?’ 
‘Easy, killer. Let’s not start sexting at noon on a Tuesday.’ 
‘are you saying there is a time for it?’ 
‘Give me a little wave and we’ll see.’ 
‘too late, i’m passed out on the floor. the only thing that can resuscitate me are those thick arms wrapped around me.’ 
‘Let these strong arms sweep you off your feet, all you gotta do is come talk to me after lecture…’ 
Peter says that, but he doesn’t mean it. He’ll definitely eat his words when he sees it’s you, then he’d be coming up with a thousand ways to back out of it. He’s so much more than you deserve, you feel so safe behind a keyboard but in person you can barely say a sentence. 
It’s stupid and a little humbling because you’ve never felt this way about a guy before. 
‘trust me, i’m better in your imagination.’ 
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WEDNESDAY: 14:22
‘Peter- 
You know a little about a lot and I think that is one of my favorite things about you. Or maybe it’s your voice. I could listen to you talk forever. 
-Your not so secret admirer, X’ 
A note under his textbook, if he follows his hunch then he’d be looking for… you. Conveniently three tables away and to the right of his own, you’re not looking for his reaction, you’ve got your focus on your own textbook but he swears you’re retaining none of it. It’s a distraction, or maybe it’s a diversion. 
Peter doesn’t mind. He’s going to wait. He has all the time in the world today and he’s going to sit here with his eyes on you until you look up at him because he knows you’re going to and once you do, he’s going to have his answer. 
If he’s right, and he swears he is, he’s going to absolutely lose is shit because what do you mean you like him and are intimidated? You boldly lied when you said you were punching above your weight class. Does it make him a jerk to say he wasn’t even thinking of you as a suitor and maybe a girl with a much more average look?
 Peter counted to sixty twice, you glance up, eyes shooting to the note you left on the table. The next stop, Peter’s face. And oh, you were not prepared to have him looking right back. Panic, you shoot a wave, a desperate attempt to pretend you’re seeing a familiar face. 
Peter waves back but he looks much more satisfied than you did, you wonder if the jig is up. Did he crack the code? Was he just trying to find a friendly way to let you down? Deny til death, he has no proof it’s you. You pack your things up, a hurried scramble before you could lose your cool. 
On the way out you almost stop breathing, your forearm caught in Peter’s hand. You’re staring down at it, he’s not removing it. It burns in the best way. “Hey,” you wait, you can’t stop looking at his hand, the muscle, the subtle flex, his fingertips paler to show his grip. “Hi, Peter.” 
It’s breathless, you think you’re about to die. If he asks, you don’t know how you’ll lie your way out. 
Guess who’s got a stained pocket? The corner edge darkened with black ink that would never be washed out. Peter has his answer. You’re her. You’re X. “Thanks again for the tea.” 
 Maybe you wanted more, you feel a bit deflated when it’s all you receive.
“You’re welcome.” Your arm feels cold when he drops his touch, you linger for a second too long, you’re not sure when you’ll be this brave again. It was too much of a close call. “I hope the rest of your day is good.” 
Peter’s got a charismatic grin, he feels settled now that he knows you’re the anonymous lover in his life. Even more so when you find yourself shy and reserved in person, it almost makes him giggle to think of the stark changes in confidence.
“You too.” Your body engulfs into flames when your arm is caught again, you’re struggling to keep calm at his boyish smile. “Quick question,” you nod slightly, trying to show zero paranoia for the following words. 
“Do you have a boyfriend?” 
Short circuiting. You see black spots, you think you’re about to pass out. There is only one thing that means, no guy asks that if they weren’t interested in changing that, right? 
“No.” It’s anything but graceful. It sounds like you’ve never had a boyfriend before. It makes you sound like you’re scared he asked it. 
But, Peter doesn’t take it like that. He smiles wider, like he already knew the answer before he asked it.
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THURSDAY: 16:37
A new letter, stuffed under the top handle of his backpack. Peter listened and stopped setting it next to him, in return he was rewarded. He can’t stop the small smile, you make it involuntary at this point. Peter’s never felt so special in his life, a little part of him wants this to never end. But he’d much rather look you in the eyes. 
‘Peter- 
I had a dream with you in it last night. Don’t worry, you had your clothes on. I’m not sure what we were doing but you were across from me at a diner and we were sitting in those super thick booths and our friends were there. 
I don’t know who these friends were, and I don’t think you do either. But I knew them as our friends. 
It felt really nice. I’m happy to know you, even if I just get this little piece. 
-Your not so secret admirer, X’
Peter’s been wrong a lot in his life but this time he really thinks he has it figured out. He’s much more bold now, this letter tells him it’s not infatuation, it’s love. 
You love him and he thinks he could love you too. 
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FRIDAY: 20:08
‘Hey.’ Peter could be making the worst decision of his life here, he could be reading everything wrong and ruining this for himself. 
‘hi peter!’ But he really thinks he’s got it right.  
‘I really, really liked talking to you for the past few weeks but I think I should tell you that I like someone else.’ 
Gut wrenching despair. You knew it was too good to last, you knew he’d find someone more in his league. Someone who’d be willing to show him their face. There was no reason to respond because what would you say to that? 
‘thank you for letting me know that opening up to you was all for nothing!’ 
‘thanks for making me doubt love!’ 
‘hope you and her are so fucking happy together!!!!!’ 
Fuck it all and fuck Peter. He just liked the attention until it came from somewhere else. You don’t think you like him all that much anymore. You think you’re lying, too. Before you can give into the desire of hurting him just as bad, you calmly turn the phone off and stuff it in the back of a desk drawer to never be uncovered again. 
You slowly sit in bed and tug the blankets over your head. And only then, do you allow yourself to sob. 
Peter chewed on his bottom lip and waited an hour with constant phone checks before he realized a response was never coming. It really set in during the weekend but even further when he got no note or letter on monday. Not even when he left his backpack unattended for five minutes. 
TUESDAY -he was able to see you and how you avoided his eyes. How you pretended you didn’t see him send a small wave. How you had pulled back from him. 
And if he hadn’t hurt your feelings, or X’s feelings, why would you do that? 
You look up at a two fingered knock at the corner of your desk. “Hi.” You blink and ignore the white noise buzzing in your ears at the sight of Peter standing in front of you. “Hi, Peter.” 
“How was your weekend?” Bitter. Terrible. Lonely.
“Fine. Nothing exciting.” Besides you breaking my heart. 
Watching his fingertips dance on the edge of the plastic, you feel everything in you brighten. “You look sad.” There’s a burn in your stomach, he’s the reason for both the sting and the sadness. 
“Do you need something? Or are you just doing a friendly check in?” Peter bites back the grin when you snap at him, he’s so, so, so right and it feels so, so, so good. “Neither. I’m just confirming my suspicions.” 
“Suspicions?” 
“Yeah. You passed.” Your eyebrows furrow, before you could try to question further Peter was giving half a wave, saying bye, and skipping a step to his aisle. 
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FRIDAY: 12:08
You stop breathing for a solid second before feeling your brain spark back to life. It could be anything, it could be from anyone, but you know there’s only one person who would’ve left a note on your desk. 
Your fingers slightly shake when you unfold the graph paper, little squares bled through with black sharpie. 
‘X-
Am I right?
Hopefully, 
-  Peter’ 
You can’t breathe, you can’t talk, you can’t move and you definitely can fucking not look at him. No, no, no. You can feel his eyes on you, you know he’s watching for your reaction. Peter figured you out and had his own fun along the way. 
You were the girl he liked. Oh, wow. Is this how special you’ve made him feel? Something just for your eyes, from him. A secret you both shared between lines. 
You spin and swear you can feel his gaze running over your back, he’s aching for the answer. You almost scream at a tap on your shoulder, a peek lets you know it’s the person you’re hiding from. 
Another note, folded up just like the other one. It’s pushed into your hand, Peter doesn’t say a word, he just offers and leaves. He’s not watching this time, he’s sitting and focused on the front, you feel air leak back into your lungs. 
Full on panic shaking, you’re so happy he’s not watching. 
Your name is addressed on the front, just like you do for him. 
‘I like you. 
I think you not so secretly like me too. 
We could talk more about it at dinner tonight. Will you let me take you out?
Circle yes or no. 
- Peter.
PS. XOXOXO now you’re responsible for mine, too.’ 
1K notes · View notes
shawnxstyles · 4 months
Text
the only one
DATE: JANUARY 2, 2024
summary: you go on your first date with peter, and it ends even better than you could have ever expected. ;)
request: yes!
words: 6.3k
warnings: SMUT (f-receiving [oral, fingering, multiple orgasms], protected sex, dirty talk), language, and the most gentlemanly man.
note: i cannot believe i’m finally writing another gyno!peter after all this time… anyway, this is NOT an actual series, simply just more situations/scenes of these two together!
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gynecologist!peter x patient!y/n
Every date that you’ve been on in the past never made you this nervous. You didn’t spend two hours just deciding on what to wear and taking an extra hour to prepare yourself. You worked for a fashion magazine, editing and reviewing comments and critiques. You were surrounded by clothes and creativity all day, but struggled to pick a “first-date look” from your closet. You swore you read something about that before…
You never thought first dates were anything more than a simple introduction, a first impression of another human being. It was one of the foundations of the question, “Could I get along well enough with this person to go on a second date?”.
You had only been on two first dates: one with your ex, who you were with for four months, and recently with that guy from your work. The second one was mainly just a hook-up, and the first one obviously led to some type of relationship that didn’t work out in the end. Maybe you didn’t have enough experience in the dating world to be wondering if the amount of nerves you had right now was healthy.
Your hands were clammy as you strapped on your black heels. You noticed you were swallowing more frequently than normal, and you didn’t understand why. When you looked in the mirror, your hands flattened out your black dress more times than you could count, ridding wrinkles that aren’t even there.
After your appointment a few weeks ago, you had texted Peter. More specifically, you texted him the next day. Immediately after simply saying hello and your name, you thought of how many other people he may have given his phone number to. Or worse, how many people he had fingered in his office… You started worrying if you shouldn’t have texted him at all because he was a doctor. He was probably too busy for anything. It was just a nice gesture, maybe?
But an hour later, in the evening, he had texted you back with a short apology. He was working a little past the clock in order to get more doctor stuff done. Even his texts were sweet with a dab of charm. How do women control themselves around him?
Or maybe it was just you, and you were a fucking weirdo.
Yeah it could be that.
Peter and you went on to texting every now and then to texting daily. Texting him was something to look forward to after a long day at work. It also became pretty clear that he wasn’t texting anyone else because well, he was working throughout the day doing doctor stuff while you were doing editor stuff. He would even text you during his lunch break and that always made your heart skip to see his message in the middle of the day.
One night in particular, you were complaining to Peter (yes, you had gotten to the point where you could complain about little inconveniences) about your sink malfunctioning. Instead of asking you to send pictures of the pipes under the sink, he had you FaceTime him. It was the first time you guys have ever called and the second time you’ve ever seen his face, so your heart was a little race-y. But when that charming, wide grin flashed on your screen, he easily slipped into conversation. Peter helped you fix your sink with a little wrench movement along with replacing a broken screw through the phone.
It wasn’t awkward. It was relieving.
You didn’t have to force a certain personality in order to engage in a conversation with him. You felt more yourself than you ever have when talking to him, flowing easily like two streams into one. You hadn’t even realized how late it was by the time you guys ended the call until he was gone. The serenity of your place felt a little more emptier than usual without the sound of his beautiful accent from your speaker. It was nearly midnight by the time you went to bed, wondering how things would be if you and Peter took your friendship a bit further.
Would talking always be this simple? Would he always be this charming?
After that night, you would make excuses to call him. He never denied you, even after he told you he had a long day at the hospital. You guys were not only texting now, but calling daily. You would get excited for his texts and calls, looking forward to talking to him. That’s when you realized you wanted more with him. It felt like you knew each other forever, but it had merely been a few weeks. You wanted to go on a date with him, wanted to be with him in person again. And of course, your mind wandered to the thought of how he is in bed.
If he was that good with just his quick fingers, then how good was he with more space and time? You began to dream about it.
Then he finally asked you. It was so sudden, you honestly didn’t expect it.
You were debriefing your plans for the week and what you had to do at work.
“Sometimes, I feel like my life is on repeat,” You chuckle, but it sounds tired.
“You’re always doing the same thing every week?” Peter questions. He found that he loves just listening to you talk for hours about whatever. He prompts you with questions, and you always answer thoroughly. It’s like an unspoken routine for you two.
“I mean, it feels like that. I never have time to go out and do anything. And when I do, I don’t go out,” You half-smile to yourself as you look down at your lap. You sounded kind of lame, so you were trying not to cringe at yourself.
“You told me your agenda for this week, but what about Saturday and Sunday?”
“Oh, well, you know I don’t work on the weekends. Sometimes, I get extra stuff done at home, but only because I’m bored. I watch TV…” You squint your eyes, trying to think of things you do on the weekend when you’re not busy. “You know, I’m listening to what I’m saying, and I am so lame. God, I need a life outside of work.”
“You’re not lame. Just busy. Give yourself some credit,” he waves off your dig at yourself, and you don’t stop yourself from smiling. He’s just too nice. You can’t take your eyes off him through the small screen as he watches you back.
“Yeah, yeah. Enough about me. What are your weekend plans?” You definitely talk too much, so you always attempt to ask him questions back.
“Well, I was thinking of taking you out,” he very casually says, nonchalantly staring at you through the camera. “Unless you’re busy watching TV.”
“W-What?” Heat crawled up your neck and ears, skin flaming off of his quick words. He’s always charming and always confident with you, so why are you surprised he’s this smooth? You wonder if he’s been thinking about it for a while or if he just got the idea randomly. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. Unless you don’t want to. In that case, I am joking…”
“I want to, Peter,” You smile with the words. It feels impossible to lower your cheek muscles because of the giddiness coursing through you. “If I’m honest, I’ve kind of been waiting for you to ask me.”
“I was a little slow, yeah?”
“Yeah, both the turtle and the hare beat you to the finish line,” His wonderful laugh echoes through the speaker of your phone, and it fills you with warmth.
While other people have belittled you and forced you to be one way, Peter naturally allows you to be yourself. Your wit flourishes, and your insecurities fade into unique parts of you. Whether you two are friends or more, you need more people like Peter in your life.
After you two had confirmed the plans for Saturday, you two both went to bed when the call ended. When your head hits the pillow, it’s instantly filled with scenarios of you and Peter. Mostly how your first date might go. Is he the type to pull out a chair for you? Definitely. Would he pay without a second glance? Probably, knowing he has that doctor paycheck. Would he kiss you after walking you back to your door? Maybe, maybe not.
But he did finger-fuck you in his office, so nothing is really that impossible.
So, you let your mind wander for the rest of the night while you sleep peacefully. Yes, you had some great dreams.
Instead of texting you that he’s here, Peter knocks on your door. The sound itself made your heart accelerate instantly as you stride quickly to answer it. You’ve been overthinking all the ways that this day could go bad, seriously hoping that it doesn’t.
“Hey,” Peter says, clearly eyeing you up and down. He sounds slightly breathless, but not as if he just ran to your door. No, more like he’s speechless. But you could just be overanalyzing every little detail.
“Hey,” As you repeat the word back, you’re both silent for a second. It’s not awkward as it is tense. You’re both just observing and taking in the appearance of the other, appreciating the time and effort in the looks. Peter’s wearing a navy button-up with black slacks. The first two buttons are undone, giving you a peek at his seemingly smooth chest. He’s not wearing a jacket, so you get a view of his arms. From the way the rich fabric stretches around his muscles, it’s obvious that he works out. He just keeps getting better. He continues to check more of your boxes. “Let me just go grab my purse really quick.”
You snatch your bag off of the coffee table after checking you have everything. What if his one flaw is that he won’t pay for at least half the dinner? You must prepare for all the possible outcomes.
“You look brilliant,” You can see him swallow before his compliment, and you wonder if he’s as nervous as you are. He never makes it a point to look even the slightest bit unsure, which you admire. He’s very charming, which takes a lot of confidence, and he’s very good at it. When he asked you out in his office, you saw that persona slip just a tad, enough for you to see that he is human and that he gets nervous too. You found him adorable. You still do.
“You as well,” You blush as you shut the door behind you. The two of you walk to his car, and of course, he opens the door for you. You can’t stop blushing. “Seriously, how do you make such a simple outfit look so good?”
“Unbutton it,” he answers before gently shutting your door closed. Your mind instantly went to places that it shouldn’t have, making your skin burn. You thought about unbuttoning his shirt slowly and sensually until it fell down his bulky arms. You thought about unbuttoning his slacks and palming his cock. He would be so hard for you, and you didn’t hesitate to get on your knees. God, you wished it was real because you truly would not hesitate for this man.
You shake your head, attempting to rid yourself of those dirty thoughts, so you can have a peaceful date. A first date with Peter.
When you guys get to the restaurant, that small voice in the back of your head expects it to be awkward the second you sit down. But once again, you were proven incorrect.
Peter instantly engages in a smooth conversation, asking how your week was overall. You told him all about work and the papers you’re reviewing, and he told you about some of his patients. Every time he mentions anything doctor related, it just makes you swoon. It’s impressive how intelligent he is, and even more so how hard he works. It’s obvious he loves what he does, and you never realized that loving one’s passion was a must-have in your partner checklist.
You also just love the way he talks. His accent makes your skin hot and your spine tingle. Your mind wanders to places it shouldn’t more often than not. And his gaze never leaves yours, only when talking to the waiter when ordering.
There is never a dull moment. Even as you were patiently waiting for your food, you still found things to talk about.
“What do you think they’re celebrating?” he asks, observing two people in the back corner with smiles on their faces.
“They’re dressed nicely, and they’re holding hands too much to be together for that long. I’m going to guess the three or four month anniversary.”
“What about them?” he nudges his head in the direction of the people not too far from you two, sitting with straight faces.
“Oh, they’re not celebrating. Probably breaking up.”
“Who goes to such a nice restaurant for a break-up?”
“I don’t know. Sounds like rich people problems to me,” You joke, and you both share a chuckle. It feels nice to casually chat and people watch with somebody else. When your food arrives, you both eat with more adding silence, slipping in words slowly.
“Did I tell you you look really good tonight?” Peter changes the topic, eyes fixating back onto you.
“Yes… Thank you,” You feel yourself blushing all over your body. You use your napkin to wipe your lips, but you’re really using it to protect your face. It was so obvious what his words did to you, that’s probably why he said them. Suddenly, the room feels a little too hot, even just in your dress. “Took me a while to find out what to wear.”
“You could have worn a garbage bag and still looked great,” Peter says, causing you to roll your eyes.
“Oh, stop it. You’re such a charmer. What’s your game? What do you want?” Your words are playful, but the look in Peter’s eye seems more serious. More powerful and heated. Eyes you haven’t seen for a long time in another person, and it freezes you still. The only thing that’s countering the lust circling his irises is the uprising smirk on his lips.
“To take you home.”
Boy, was he a charmer.
“Don’t ask if I’m kidding because I’m not,” he adds, setting down his napkin on the table. He leans over, a curl falling onto his forehead. A hand reaches halfway across the white cloth and rests delicately on your hand. Even his touch was warm and soft, not forceful in any way. “If you want, I’d like to.”
“I…” You were speechless. You knew what your answer would be, but you were just starstruck. How can one person be so gentlemanly yet hot? Cocky yet so sweet? God really didn’t give anyone a chance when making Peter. “Yes, I would like that a lot.”
Your thumb rubs reassuring circles on his thumb while you smile like a fool. Peter’s smirk only got bigger as the night went on.
You talked. You laughed. You smiled.
But as he drove you to his house, you got nervous again. Maybe you guys would do something as normal as watch a movie. Maybe even cuddle a bit. But you really, really hoped it was more. Especially after your first meeting, you knew Peter wasn’t too shy about sexual matters. However, maybe he didn’t want to do that with you yet and just wanted to take things slow.
But his office…
When his hand was on yours on the table, your memory was brought back right to the moment of his fingers inside of you in the chair. You remembered the feeling of him pushing his digit in and out repeatedly and how good it felt when he removed his latex gloves. Your core rumbled with lust, getting off on the mere fantasy of it all.
When you arrive at his house, you both silently get out of the car. Besides the sound of nature, you could only hear your racing heart and how it was racking against your ribcage in intense beats. He unlocks his door, keying jingling while the breeze flows past. You’re hyper-aware of every noise as if Peter could hear your choppy breath. When he finally opens the door, he lets you in first and you smile, trying to not let your obvious nerves surface.
But you clearly fail when he points it out.
“What are you thinkin’ about?” Your eyes lock on his hands as he rests his key on his door side table and feet as he casually slips off his dress shoes. Everything about him was mesmerizing. You swear you could just watch a documentary of a regular day in his life and you could be starry-eyed.
“Bunch of things.” But it was really just one thing.
“Care to share?” Peter shifts to the kitchen and you follow him like a helpless dog, clutching your bag for dear life.
“I keep thinking about…the last time we were together,” the words fall from your mouth as you round the counter. You felt like you needed to create some distance between you two if you were going to admit something like that.
“What about it?” Peter’s knack to ask questions right now is making your face burn from embarrassment under his bright kitchen lights. He grabs two glasses and fills them up with fridge water without even asking if you wanted some.
“You know, the fun part,” You round the counter to reach the water, slowly taking a sip. When you set the glass down, your eyes don’t leave his chest. You’re too afraid to look into his eyes.
“I thought it was all pretty fun,” he says, placing down his own glass and taking one large step towards you “Especially the part where you came all over my hand.”
Your skin flames, eyes peering at him for a moment before dashing away. His finger slides beneath your chin to turn your face back to him. He could feel your radiating heat and could see the widening of your pupils under the luminous lights.
“Were you thinking of that?” His finger directs your chin upwards, forcing you to look at him. His voice was low and husky, only for you to hear. “Because I haven’t stopped since the day I walked out of that room.”
“Peter…”
“Just say the word, honey, and I’ll kiss you right now.”
You could just melt into a puddle on the floor of his kitchen. His words are so sensual, there is no way you could ever say no to this man. He’s irresistible without trying too hard.
“Please,” You mustered out seemingly breathless while your eyes were locked into his surely.
He doesn’t miss the beat. His head turns as his lips crash against yours. Your lower back hits the island of the counter of marble, but you don’t flinch. His lips electrocute yours, sending jolts of energy coursing through your body like a shock. Your hands naturally find his neat yet messy styled hair on his nape, fingers rummaging through the curly ends. One of his hands holds your waist down from moving as if he already knows you’re antsy to grind on him. His other caresses your jaw in a stable position, the type of dominance you’ve been craving since that day in his office.
His hand goes underneath your thigh, leading you to wrapping your legs around his waist. You thought he was going to sit you on the counter, but he walked all the way to a bedroom without breaking the kiss.
Peter gently lays you on the bed, causing you to depart from the kiss. He wordlessly goes to unbutton his shirt, but you quickly sit up to do it. You’ve been thinking about doing it since he picked you up, so it only seems right that your fantasy comes true, right?
Just like you imagined, you slowly flicked off the buttons and delicately removed the fabric until it was a bundle of cloth on the floor. On the edge of the bed on your knees, you stare up at Peter with a lustful glint in your eye. That glowy look caused Peter to kiss you again, hungrier than before. His force makes you fall onto the mattress again, making you gasp. He trails down your neck in sloppy kisses, touching every inch of your neck and chest with his lips.
“Where did you get this dress?” You didn’t expect him to ask you that while he was groping your breasts through the material. You moan at the feeling of his rough thumbs on your nipples. It’s very distracting while you try to remember where you got the dress that is currently in the way.
“Um Zara? I-I don’t remember,” You moan loudly, not having time to conceal it as he suckles a mark on your neck.
“Do you like it?”
“What?”
“The dress.”
“S-Sure, yeah. It’s-It’s not my favorite, though,” His tousled hair tickles your face as he gets closer to your boobs.
“Maybe you should have worn a garbage bag.”
“Why?” You pull back a little, moving his head up so you can see his face. You thought maybe you would see some expression of disgust, but he only has pure enjoyment. His soft smile turns into a smirk that you’re growing really fond of. It means he’s about to do something hot.
“Because then I wouldn’t feel so bad about ripping it off of you.”
Just like that, the thin straps are easily snapped from his large hands while he yanks the long dress down your body and onto the floor. His mouth instantly went onto your nipple, sucking until he was satisfied with the raw peak of it. He repeated the same movement the opposite one until you were a panting mess, huffing and puffing from just his mouth on your chest.
You can tell he knows how to do this. Yes, he works in gynecology so it’s a benefit that he knows the female body inside and out. But he’s actually skilled in his technique. Although he is hungry and nearly primal, he takes his time with certain areas, making your body want him more and more each time. It’s incredibly smart, and you’re wondering why every man doesn’t know how to properly treat a woman.
You don’t even know your body the way he seems to know it.
His mouth is at your panties before you could even process it. Right when you think he’s about to widen your legs like you so desperately want him to, he stops when his hands rest on your knees gently. He had been going at a fast pace, but now, he’s slow and controlled. Taunting in a way. Torturing.
“I’m going to remove these now, yeah?” He knows you want it now because he has you in his bed right where you want to be. His tone is not as shy as it had been in the office. It’s more controlling yet still soft. “Words, Y/N.”
That demand was all too similar to his words back in the chair with his hands on your waist. He was about to pull off your underwear then for professional reasons, and now, he’s going to yank them off for selfish ones.
“Please take them off,” Just like you had then, you clenched around nothing. Just his sensual words that make you spiral into horny oblivion. Your wavering tone makes him smile as he tugs down the thin material from your legs, tossing them somewhere in the room.
Then he finally widens your legs, facing your aching pussy that hasn’t forgotten about him since all those weeks ago. You were throbbing and leaking to the damn bed sheets, but you couldn’t give a fuck less. You wanted his fingers, his mouth, his cock–anything that he was willing to give you.
“That day,” he starts, “I really wanted to taste you. You were dripping all over my fingers. It was so hard to stay professional.”
He leans down and gets really close to your cunt, inches away from doing what he really wants to do.
“You’ll let me taste you, right?” he asks in an innocent kind of way, but there’s hints of taunt in there. It makes your core burn, and you almost moan at the way his breath hits your center.
“Yes, please. Do whatever you want,” You say that because it’s true–he can do whatever he wants to you, and you would be grateful.
“So polite. So eager,” he kisses your thigh, dangerously close to you now, “And so, so wet.”
“Peter, please,” You were begging now, but you didn’t care. You would beg all night for Peter to touch you the way he did in his office. You’ve tried to replicate it, but it’s no use. You’ve been craving that feeling for weeks now, and he seems to be the only one who can get you there.
“So polite. Good girl.”
To your luck, he doesn’t say another word. He finally puts his mouth on your pussy by slurping up all of your juices. You immediately moan, just by the mere knowledge that his mouth is on you. His tongue slips through your folds all the way up to your clit. Peter suckles on it, feeling it throb in his mouth.
“Taste even better than I imagined,” You don’t know if his whispered words were meant to be heard by you, but you heard them. They caused you to clench right as his tongue slotted inside of you, desperate to taste more of you.
His large hands are pressed against the insides of your thighs, forcing you to stay spread for him. You can feel them ache, but nothing feels as prominent as his tongue inside of you. And then, just when it starts to feel good, he makes it feel even better. One of his digits finds your clit, circling pressure until you’re a moaning mess.
“Fuck, Peter. That’s… so good.”
His mouth pops off of you for a second to catch a breath. But he could honestly drown in the taste of you. He smoothly slides a finger to replace where his mouth was, filling you up just like in his office. Now, his mouth is sucking on your clit, needing to make it throb. You feel that feeling you’ve been chasing for the past few weeks building up in your stomach, and you know it’s not going to be long at all until you achieve it.
“Come. Show me what only I can make you do,” Peter grumbles, his words cascading over your body. The deep rumble of his voice tips you over the edge, causing you to come all over his fingers again. After cleaning up some of your orgasm, he lifts his mouth, but doesn’t remove his fingers. He continues to pump them in and out, even though you’re sensitive.
“So fuckin’ tight, and I haven’t even given you a second finger,” one of his fingers taps of your clit, causing you to gasp at how sensitive you are. “Can you give me another?”
“A-Another one?” You’re panting and sweating from just one, but he wants to give you another? Who is this man, and where has he been all your life? “I can’t.”
“Oh, but you can. The body is an amazing thing,” he inserts another finger into your cunt and increases his intensity on your nerves. You gasp again, moaning without caring how loud you are. “See, your clit makes you do that. And I love that.”
“Oh, Peter,” You helplessly whimpered. As he thrusts his fingers inside of you with that charming smile and a hint of a smirk, you already feel your high approaching you again. The sight and the feel of him was just too overwhelming. With each thrust of his fingers, his arms bulged, forearm veins popping deliciously. He was a sight for sore eyes.
“C’mon, baby. Give me another. Want to feel you clench around my fingers. Imagine it’s my cock. Imagine how big my cock is going to feel in your little, tight cunt.”
His words oozed sex. So it only made sense that you came not long after. Your release coated his skilled hand once again, and this time, he seemed satisfied with your two orgasms.
When you could finally catch your breath, you didn’t see him reaching for his belt like most men do. But you really, really wanted him to reach for his belt.
“Are you tired? How do you feel?” The tone in his voice was soft. He was easily able to change from sex Peter to caring Peter. Your heart melted at his concern.
“Tired, but good tired. I’ve only ever had three orgasms, and you just gave me two of them,” You laughed breathlessly while he chuckled. “Would I be selfish to ask for more?”
That made him laugh. It was wholehearted and deep, echoing throughout the room. “Not at all.”
And then he reaches for his belt. You feel your organs twist in that lustful, horny way that they do when he does anything. When all his clothes are discarded and you’re faced with his raging cock, you’re practically drooling. He was right when he said he was big; thick and veiny all along the sides. It seemed unfair, really.
He reaches over to the nightstand and grabs a condom, ripping it and rolling it on easily. You continue to watch him in awe as he strokes himself a few times over the condom. Truth be told, he’s already incredibly hard. The second he slips inside of you he fears he will come on the spot because of how tight you are.
But he leans over your body, elbows holding himself up. You can smell his fresh scent, full of pine and wood.
“Did I tell you you look beautiful tonight?” he whispers next to your ear, his warm breath hitting your skin, which gives you the shivers. Your hands trail up over his body until they’re resting on his broad shoulders. You can feel his tensed muscles working to hold him up right, even though it looks like an effortless task to him.
“Oh shush. But thank you,” His comment makes your face warm, like a candle right next to your cheek.
“You look especially pretty under me,” his cock brushes your cunt, sliding delicately through the folds. You’re not shy of gasping, trying to mentally prepare yourself for his impeccable size.
When he finally pushes the head in, you take a deep breath and release it in a small whimper. You know you’re tight because you haven’t been with anyone in a few weeks. The most you’ve taken are Peter’s fingers, which are nothing compared to his cock.
He waits a few moments before moving again, giving you time to adjust. But you don’t think you’ll ever be able to fully settle with his size. It seems like he’ll always be stretching you out, no matter how many times you take him.
“Breathe, baby,” his words are breathy and wavering, but so sweet. The small nickname gives you the butterflies you haven’t felt for a while. Not the nervous butterflies, but that tingling, excited feeling of fondness. It’s one of your favorite feelings, and you’re so glad Peter gives you them.
You listen to him, taking deep breaths. He takes the opportunity to push himself a bit further until he’s fully inside of you. He stays still, looking at your face as you grow more comfortable. He watches as your expression contorts into desperation, which is what he’s been waiting for.
“You’re so tight, honey. But you’re taking all of me. Knew you could,” Peter reassures you, even as you clench snuggly around him. It’s embarrassingly hard for him to stay still, given how warm you feel wrapping him.
“Please move. Fuck, I need to feel you.”
Slowly, Peter removes himself and then slots in again. You remember to breathe as his movements become less languid and more fluidly quick. Soon, his thrusts have a bit of speed, causing you to scratch his shoulders at the intensity.
“You’re so big… so deep,” Your moan bounces off the walls of the room, making Peter smirk as he continues to move. His cock pins your hips, shutting down your squirming.
“No one’s ever fucked you like this? Never been this good, baby?” A small huff of his breath hit your skin and you were awed. His words alone could get you off, and then he’s pumping himself perfecting inside of you too, just making you go insane. He knows where all the right spots are, lifting up one of your legs with ease to get a better angle. You love that you can just let him take over you without having to work for your orgasm like you’re used to. You’re used to being on top, but it’s evident that Peter just wants to take care of you. He wants you to be satisfied for once, and you’ve never felt so seen. You’ve never felt so… good.
“Y-You’re the only one,” You sigh as you bite your lip, loving the way he's speaking to you. He’s all sultry in tone and even sexier with his words. You believe he has no flaws that are worth noticing.
“S’right. I’m the only one who can make you feel this good. You can only take my cock like this, deep in your cunt,” All you can do is moan and shake as you feel your next orgasm approaching.
Just when you go to reach down to your clit to push yourself even further, he reads your mind and does it for you. His thick finger circles the throbbing bud until you’re arching your back. Your fingers play with the pebbled nipples on your chest as your insides grow more tight. You haven’t had an orgasm feel this intense yet, so it’s hard to anticipate the feeling.
“Gonna come, baby? Come all over my cock, I need to see it. Need to know I’m the only one who can make you feel this way.”
With one entire pump inside of you, you’re coming over Peter’s cock and showing him that he’s the only one. All you can see is his charming, fatigued smile surrounded by stars. His brown hair is tousled and a dash of sweat is above his eyebrows, but God, he’s never looked so fucking hot.
It’s not long after that he’s coming after you, his release filling the condom completely. Peter was trying his best to hold himself for as long as possible. But with you, he discovered it was very difficult. Like he thought, the second he was inside of you, he could’ve come. You’re so slick and warm, just so alluring.
He gets up from the bed to discard the condom in done trash while you lay there in naked awe. You already know that you’re going to be sore tomorrow like the day after the gym.
As Peter comes back, he has a wipe that he uses to clean you up.
“What are you doing?” You ask before he starts to wipe you.
“Cleaning you up. You know, like aftercare. You can go to the bathroom and even take a bath if you’d like,” Peter answers while you sit straight up dumbfounded. “May I?”
“Yeah, yeah go ahead,” You allow him to soothingly clean you while you just accept it. Your mind is still whirling with confusion. Are all guys supposed to do this? Or is he really just that great? “Thank you. I… No one’s ever done that before.”
“Really? God, you were really with some twats, Y/N,” he shakes his head and walks back to the bathroom while you chuckle. It’s funny that you had to go through those two guys in order to get to Peter. Third time’s the charm. “Want to take a bath?”
You ponder for a second. You were tired, but not like you would drown in the tub. Maybe if you had better stamina you would ask Peter to join you, but for now, maybe you just need to sit and think about what’s happening alone. Peter is too good to be true. He’s such a gentleman, he never misses a beat. You hope you’re not overstepping by accepting.
“Can I? Or is it too much—”
“Nonsense, I want you to be comfortable. Now, do you like the right or left side of the bed?” You stare at him in confusion. One, because that was a random question. And two, because when did he put on boxers?
“What?”
“Which side do you sleep on?” You felt your cheeks burn for some reason, and then you realize you’re still naked while he’s semi-dressed.
“Um right, I think. Why?”
“So you can sleep there. You are staying, aren’t you?” Peter’s cheeks tint rosy red, that peek of nervousness shining through. It made you smile because even if he seems too good to be true, there is a little human in there who’s just like you.
“Yes, of course,” You can visibly see his tenseness fade as a small smile grows on his lips.
“I’ll start the bath then get you some clothes then, or else you’ll keep me hard all night.”
Your skin burns, but you feel like that’s not the last time that will happen to you. Not with Peter. No, you know.
thank you all for being patient!! i also think this is the longest taglist i’ve ever had, so thank you again!! 💞
taglist:
-> @motheroffae @noa217 @nelly-belly97 @spidermanffh3000 @httpscomexe @mysticdaisy21 @emilyparkerholland @deathst9r @ellenita98 @ellabellabus07 @mrstealuregirl @bisexual-desi @sherlockstrangewolf @madsttx @graywrites20 @bradtomlovesya @princesspannnn @sageisswaggg @purplerose291 @girlbossnancy @lockwood-lover @marzipaanz @eatshitanddiee @invisibletrolleyson-jeremy @lnmp89 @crybabyddl @pretty-npeach @marine-mayday @aerangi @justanotherpasserby-blog @tinafuentes @moniffazictress11 @eywaheardyou @alwaysclassyeagle @raajali3 @likeapplejuicenpeach @winuvs
crossed out= not able to tag
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harleehazbinfics · 1 month
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Cannibal Overlord!Reader [Cannibal Chef!Reader Spin-off!]
Cannibal chef! reader m.list | Author profile
a/n: I've seen a few fics about reader owning Alastor's soul, so I'm gonna put my own spin on it in Cannibal Chef. >:]
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"Madam, the table is ready."
"Oh, thank you Alastor!" You groan, leaning against your chair clutching your aching head.
"These demons can't do anything right!" you roared slamming your fist down on the table sending papers flying, which Alastor calmly collected and places back on the table.
He smiles and waits for you to stand. On your own two feet, you latch onto him and whined, "You won't leave me won't you, Alastor? I'd hate for my most important and capable person to leave!"
"I wouldn't dare think of it, Madam," he replies as he covers your hand with his as he guides you to the dinner table, where several plates of food you loved was presented so fancily. You gushed at the food, and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before sitting down and tasting a few pieces of everything.
Alastor recovers from your affectionate gesture and pushes your chair in and drapes a napkin over you to not soil your clothes that he meticulously picked.
This was (Y/n), one of the most powerful overlords who reigned over Pentagram City. She controls quite a number of souls from decades of ruling. They say she manifested in hell, seemingly overnight, toppling overlords who were once held an iron grip over the denizens of hell. Tall tales were spread about your fearsome power and your signature cleaver. After establishing your position, you opened a meat shop and restaurant. Cannibal and non-cannibal options of course. You were crazy, but you had class, okay?
Many are frightened at just the thought of you alone, some sinners say that all demons that crossed you would end up on their plate. To set a clear stance what would happen if they dared question her power.
"Oh, Calastor! Good morning, my love! Did you have a good nap?" you ask picking up the red cat who gave you kitten licks on your face.
However, all Alastor could see was a very cheerful and clumsy woman. He recalls the first time he met you. He was roaming and analyzing where he was and how the power was at play arriving here shortly in hell. Unexpectedly, he got caught in a crossfire between you and large dinosaur like demon. When he saw you transform into your larger demon form, he was mesmerized at such power. You didn't hesitate for a second to go for the kill.
After capturing the dinosaur demon and keeping him in your inventory to make a meal out of later. He failed to dodge the hand that grabbed him and pulled him closer to your face.
"And who might you be?" you asked sultrily with a dissonant voice that overlapped with each other making him gulp at the wonders it was doing for his body to react a certain way towards the sound.
"Alastor, Madam. Pleasure to be meeting you!" he replies with his usual transatlantic tone, keeping composure despite seconds away from being crushed in your hand.
You smile and replied, "You're polite, how cute. You wouldn't mind if I keep you right?"
Without even a chance to reply, you return to your castle where you changed him into a butler uniform and bombarded him with your troubles and how you were so lonely that no one wanted to be friends with you. So, when you saw him ogling you, you couldn't help but keep him to yourself. You couldn't bear the thought of someone else picking him up other than you.
Alastor, in all his years, didn't once try to escape despite his situation. Sure, it was peculiar and sudden, but he never once felt uncomfortable in his setting. On the contrary, he felt very much at home with you, and even accepting your affectionate gestures.
A few pecks on the lips, cheek and neck wasn't disgusting when it was from you. He enjoyed your warm hugs where you'd eventually fall asleep on him and have him take you to your room. Only for you to pout and pull him on the bed with you and sleep with him.
He just couldn't say no to you. After all. He did love you. He was yours, as you were his.
IM TAKING ASKS FOR THIS ONE TOO
🔗Cannibal Chef! Reader TAGLIST:
@bonnie-02, @marxo5, @whaatttlaufey, @froggybich, @rybunnie, @midorichoco, @lucifers-silhouette, @kimmis-stuff, @bontensbabygirl, @janey, @akiqvq, @wonderlandangelsposts, @spoiled-slutt, @roboticsuccubus83, @atlas-rin, @yuriohoe04, @azullynxx, @milk-bulb, @rainynyy, @s2tng, @aria-tempest, @speedycoffeedelight, @0strawberrysorbet0, @amitiel-truth, @corvid007, @kaminarithebest, @enby-goblin
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jacevelaryonswife · 6 months
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Bad idea right?
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Going out with your friends was great, really great, but it’s been a long time since you had fun with a guy. A considerable time that you thought was affecting lower parts of your body in relation to your roommate.
pairing: Michael Gavey x roommate fem!reader
warnings: p in v sex, fingering, loss of virginity, praising, english is not my first language. 3,455 words.
ewanverse characters masterlist
The idea of having a place only yours has always been something that cheered you up. Independence, silence and calm were very tempting qualities that always ended up being put in the background when the accounts were put on the table. In addition to the rent there was energy, internet, water, food and God knows if something breaks. You postponed the project for a long time while saving more money in the expectation of finding something more affordable, until the perfect option appeared on one of the announcement panels of the central building of the Campus. It was a beautiful coincidence actually, since you didn't used to go to such a place on a daily basis, but apparently the small white poster listed all the features you wanted in your small apartment for a price that fit in your pocket.
There was only one catch, a big catch.
The place already had an owner who was looking for a roommate.
In days past that would be enough for you to ignore the ad and follow your search, but the price and location seemed too tempting to ignore. You would give it a chance and call the number.
And then an even bigger but appeared: the voice on the other side of the line was masculine.
The idea of sharing an apartment with an unknown man was terrifying at all levels and almost made you hang up the phone. For some reason you arranged to visit the place the next day, obviously taking a friend and a knife in case the idiot wanted to play the smart.
And that's how you met Michael. Introverted, nerdy and brutally honest Michael Gavey. Obviously there was a lot of tension during the whole moment that led you to get to know the rooms and talk to him. About the place: it was quite comfortable and bigger than you expected, really organized and warm in the cold season of the beginning of winter. It was ridiculously pleasant. And as for Michael, well, you hadn't decided if he was a harmless nerd or a serial killer. Still, he seemed to interpret the female fear when he offered himself by saying:
"I understand that it's difficult for a woman to live with a lad she doesn't know."
But the point was: you had really liked the apartment, and when he started saying the rules of coexistence the distance between nerd and possible killer became bigger, much bigger. That was not a one-sided conversation, especially when you started questioning him in a not very subtle way about his life. What did he do? Where did he come from? Did he hide bodies in his room? (The latter was in your imagination, but you managed to spy on his room without being noticed).
Michael said that some people showed interest in the ad but that they did not fit the standard of roomies he wanted. Disorganized, drugged and very noisy, as soon as he classified them.
His methodical personality did his best to try to build a positive (or less negative) image you could have of the arrangement. And honestly, he seemed to be a quiet man, who appreciated a certain silence and calm that you wanted in your home most of the time. Obviously you checked the criminal record of the guy with caramel hair and beautiful blue eyes as soon as you left the building, relieving yourself by not finding anything. But hey, he was a student like you, it couldn't be so hard to find something about the guy!
By another incredible chance of fate a friend of a friend had some classes with Gavey and was very efficient in giving some information about the subject:
"Really smart, a little pretentious and clumsy, but he's a nice guy, doesn't have many friends and is definitely harmless."
Obviously it took much more than that to make you invest in the property, but what really mattered was that that weekend Michael Gavey had received a call and agreed with the idea.
So officially you were moving to the place you wanted, well located and cozy, but with a roommate who owns the place. And for the next few weeks after the move you slept with a knife under the pillow.
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Living with Michael proved to be something very calm. Your classes took place at the same time, which culminated in sharing the rest of the day together. Initially things were strange, especially when you tried to talk to each other in the first days without any subject that caught the attention of the other, which defined the following days with dialogues only about the needs of coexistence. It was much easier that way and ensured that the dynamics between you happened in a more organic way than thought, since both were easy to deal with in your own ways. The apartment wasn’t complete yet, with few kitchen utensils and cleaning that you didn't mind buying. Michael was very hygienic and almost never left anything for you to clean (if it happened he would leave a note in the sink or bathroom indicating that he would take care of it later).
He wasn’t so good in the kitchen, but that wasn’t a problem when cooking was an almost relaxing activity for you, and it was very gratifying to receive compliments about your food. In addition, at the end of dinner he would make a point of washing the dishes to help.
Everything seemed to go very well over the weeks, the first month, the first month and a half until things started to change in the way you saw it.
Going out with your friends was great, really great, but it's been a while since you had fun with a man. A considerable time that you thought was affecting lower parts of your body. You see, Michael wasn’t bad looking, not with his caramel blonde hair, beautiful blue eyes and a formidable face; not with his terribly long fingers and delicious hands, not with his height much higher than your usually covered your body when he approached. No, the point was that you never had a relationship with someone like him. A little introverted, methodical, with a particular sense of humor and a little grumpy. On the other hand, he knew how to be pleasant and malleable when he wanted, he was almost shrewd and a little lonely.
Adding this to a nice body, a perfectly sculpted face and the looks he sent you when your clothes were tighter or more tidy, the sum was that you wanted to fuck that damn nerd in every room of your shared apartment.
Initially the feeling was repressed. Maybe it was just your fertile period and the sad reality of being for a long time without a male comfort — not the fact that he looks like a delicious prey easily edible. However, as the days went by the realization of being really invested in your roommate was more explicit and palpable, really palpable. Something needed to be done on the subject and some ideas were already around your mind about how to convince Michael to have sex madly in the next few days.
You looked good as an advantage, although you weren’t the most beautiful woman in the world, you were beautiful enough to take off a good looking partner. It couldn't be so difficult (or he could reject it). Therefore, acting with subtlety was your first option, although there was the uncertainty of him not realizing even if his mind was too sharp to do so. But in your state of urgency by instant action the games that would make him gradually succumb would be extremely stressful for you, so you would grab him at once.
But how would you proceed?
It was Friday night and your friends were dismissed for your onslaught to happen. Should you arrive as a hungry lun or a sneaky fox?
Fuck it, you'd jump on it with everything you had.
Wearing only a lacy white lingerie and an unbuttoned silk social t-shirt you left for the attack, opening the bedroom door and floating like a feather to the living room where your sweet roommate was distracted by the laptop. He didn't seem as focused as the times he studied, in fact he was almost relaxed in his gray sweatpants and thick pumpkin-colored sweater and a rare soft look on the screen. It was the ideal moment.
With a sensual feature and melodious voice you announced your presence with a simple "Hey," calling his attention.
And as you called it.
The poor lad could barely blink when he saw your half-naked and inviting figure approaching with a false innocent smile.
His reaction was a real treat. With his blue eyes wide from under his glasses and half-open mouth. He was terribly shocked, that was a fact, and it only encouraged you to go ahead. "I was thinking, if... you wouldn't have some time available for me." In a bold action, you gently pushed the laptop away and sat on his lap with one leg on each side of his waist, leaning your hands against the breastplate and leaning close to his flushed face to whisper on his perfect lips. "I'm thinking of something we can do together."
Blinking a few times for your dubious suggestion, Michael's hands landed uncertainly on the side of your thighs as he tried to formulate some audible answer in his now unstructured mind. “D-do you?” He asked tense, panting.
“Yes, but only if you want too,” you purred against his mouth, rubbing your noses and moving your dressed pussy against the newly hardened bulge, making him both moan low in anticipation.
Interesting fact about Michael: he's never had any girl rubbing against his body like that before. In fact, he never had a girl in any way.
It was something that didn't bother him full time, very worried about books, classes and science, but it would be a lie to say that he didn't think what it would be like to fuck a girl whose attraction to him was genuine. But that, well, that was better than any fantasy he's ever had throughout his life, that's why it was so costly to believe and answer your question with a blown and whispered "Yes", quickly amended by a more assertive confirmation: "I want to."
“Good," you smirk satisfied and collided your lips on his in a demanding and intense kiss, giving no chance to any doubt that he will feel. Your hands grabbed the back of his neck and his soft caramelized hair, avoiding any body separation.
Michael moaned when your fingers pulled some sensitive threads from the back of his neck, holding your waist and ass in a firm grip. That could only be a big wet dream. Yes, he really stole glances at you many times, more than he was proud of, but to think that this would happen? That way? Not even fucking.
He pressed his hardened cock against your pussy again and broke a kiss with a grunt when you started grinding on it. It was a delight to feel the impressive hardness below your body and see it all red and anxious, capturing another panting, long and tongue-filled kiss. Not even when you ripped off his sweater and discarded your social shirt, your lips separated. Although he was a skinny nerd, he had a really nice body. You wanted to fuck right there, but it was exciting to see him follow your trail like a hungry puppy. And he was fucking hungry, although equally nervous about being his first time.
Michael wasn’t stupid to think it would last long, he heard the stories, he knew how the male body worked to hump for the first time, he knew it would be disastrous, so when you leaned against him again his words were quick to reveal his secret.
“Wait… I need to say something,” his eyes faced the ground, posture hardening as he quickly lowered his head. At that moment you were sure of your implications on your roomie's sexual history, but wanted to respect his process in stating clearly. "I've never done thid."
With a gentle hand groping the left side of his face, you tried to calm him down: "it's ok, really. We can stop if you don't feel comfortable."
"No, no, I want that, really-," he was quick to contest, "I just didn't want to disappoint you."
“Hey, it's okay, I'm not going to make fun of you for that. Besides, I can teach you how to use these fingers to make women cum," you bit your lower lip, looking at it sensually. "Let me take care of you, babe."
And he became meek like a lamb, letting you take off his sweatpants before he himself hurriedly took off his shoes and socks and was only in his underwear, being guided to lie on the bed while your body climbed on his hips and groped his arms, breastplate and milky abs. "You have such a great body," you purred and leaned to kiss him, savoring his hands kneading and squeezing your arse, climbing up your back and daring to open the clasp of your bra, to which you were rewarded by your satisfied tinnitus. “Good boy,” and then your tits were exposed to his delight, being touched and exploited by two large, warm and inexperienced hands. God, he never thought that tis could be so amazing.
His thumbs rotated your halos experimentally, with a little more force than necessary but without being uncomfortable. Your hands covered Michael's and guided them to your waist, squeezing, landing them on your hips.
"Women like caresses and kisses to get in the mood. Kisses on the neck, jaw, clavicle, boobs..." you started, "I don't need these things at the moment, but next time this will be welcome."
Although excited about the idea of a next time suggested in advance, Michael didn’t want to spend his luck betting that your thought would be kept after sex, as a result, he sat in bed with you on his lap and attacked your neck with kisses, bites and hickeys. His work against the encounter between neck and shoulder made you purr with pleasure and close your eyes, really enjoying how he gently pulled some strands of hair from the back of your neck. The boy had potential.
“Keep going, babe”
The wet and anxious trail followed your lap, top and valley of the tits until capturing a nipple in the hot mouth, sucking and nibbling greedily. He couldn't believe that you were on his lap letting him suck your tits, that he was the reason for your moans and soft whining. Damn, he was already in the clouds and hadn't even actually laid you — or the opposite.
And although the feeling was terribly pleasant, the heat in your pussy was too aggressive to ignore, you needed a quick and urgent relief.
"Michael" you called him. "I need to get the condom," with that, you walked away against his will to pick up the package from your nightstand. "Now, take a deep breath when I start and try to distract yourself with something else to last longer, I'll go slowly but it's very intense and better than your hand, so hold tight," you warned him before pulling his boxer down to reveal his beautiful dick shining with pre-cum. Holy shit, Michael Gavey was fucking nice. “Damn, you’re fucking handsome. I should have seen this before."
And he was already out of breath before you stretched around him, his glasses crooked and a little blurry, half-open mouth and body hurting in anxiety, cock writhing with every touch received on his skin.
“Put it.”
And he put on the condom while you removed your panties and crawled into his lap again, making him lie down again. “Hold on, big guy.”
And then, picking up his cock and guiding him to your entrance, you sank slowly, giving him time to squeeze your hips with each centrimeter swallowed, caressing and smelling his soft hair when his head fell against your neck. Nothing had prepared him for that, no handful of lubricant came close to the tightness, heat and moisture of your pussy. If he was in the clouds before, now he was sure he was in the sky. “Wait! Wait! Don't move yet." And for that he needed to make sure it lasted.
"Okay... just breath babe, relax, think of something else." you instructed him panting, savoring the feeling of his cock inside your silky walls. Everything about his member was perfect, from the size to the thickness, filling you perfectly. A whining fell from your lips and you hugged him. “So good, mm.”
"Fuck," he grunted in despair, squeezing your body against his.
“Don't worry about it, it's okay, just enjoy it while it lasts,” you whispered against his temple.
That was the damn point. “I won't last long,” he said.
“So just enjoy, Mike,” biting his earlobe, you started jumping constantly, moaning uninhibitely at how good that nerd felt. He pushed his face even more on your neck and held your waist to the dear life, moaning and grunting and pulling you to lie above him. He was a panting mess with blurry glasses and a half-open mouth, a damn sight that made you more aroused than usual, very proud to be the reason for his snatched state.
“Oh fuck, fuck- I'm gonna-“
“Come for me, babe,” you rubbed your groin against his one, two, three times when he fell apart intensely with a long, hoarse moan, heavy breathing and a blushing face.
Withdrawing from him, your body fell on the bed still hot and longing to be satisfied, watching him gradually recompose in a brief comfortable silence.
"So... did you like it?" You asked, fingering his breastplate.
Did he like it? Damn, that shit blew his mind. “So fucking good.” Although part of his mind was eager to reward you, he had to. He had to make you cum. Turning to face you, Michael stood at your top before while asking: "what should I do now?"
Smirking maliciously, you leaned your feet on the bed and spread your legs more to him. “Fuck me with your fingers,” you purred, taking his right hand and guiding him to your wet center. "I like it when guys don't forget that I have a clit, I don't understand why, even why it makes your work easier," you circled your hill with his fingers, showing him the place before going down to your entrance. "Heat me up with one, then put on another."
And he followed your rules like a good boy, sticking a long finger pumping slowly.
"Mhm, just like that," you bit your lower lip, but very very very impatient to wait for the development of a slow orgasm, you needed to cum as soon as possible. Taking his hand, you held your index finger and made him join the middle one. “Go faster.”
And although sloppy and a little strong a few times, his fingers felt so fucking good on your velvet walls, reaching the sweet point that made your toes curl. “Fuck! Keep going Michael!”
He was hypnotized by the wet sounds that your pussy was making, by your body writhing and his fingers disappearing inside you, squeezing, wetting...
That set of things went straight to his cock.
"Roll your fingers slowly," you ordered, arching your back when he pressed against your spot, intensifying the tingling at the base of your stomach and making you moan louder. “Don't stop, I-I'm close!”
His glasses were on the tip of his nose, almost plummeting from his face, but it didn't matter at the moment. Deciding to use your previous tip on the clit, Michael used his other hand to circle your pearl with pressure, making his eyes close.
“Oh fuck! I'm gonna-" your whole body trembled when the coil burst and a warm pleasure flooded your senses, holding the bed for the darling life and closing your legs with the strong spasms.
That was better than any porn he watched. And with that he encompassed the last minutes from your approach until now. Michael was still very stunned by everything that happened, that’s why when he lay on your bed it was as if he was recovering from an electric discharge, his mind and body ridiculously overloaded and active. As for you, after a while restoring from a delicious orgasm, you rested your head on his chest and traced patterns on the milky to soft skin, playing with some fine and lost hair. "So, do you want a second round?"
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a/n: I know we don’t have much about Michael, but I was so anxious about this hot nerd that I couldn’t wait for the movie.
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monzabee · 1 year
Text
girl crush – dr3
masterlist || part 2 ||
Summary: The one where both you and Daniel meet your celebrity crushes in the course of a weekend, and decide to give it a go. 
Pairing: daniel ricciardo x actress!reader
Word Count: 4522
Warnings: fluff, shy daniel, shy reader, max being a menace (we love you max), awkwardness, 2023 australian gp, oscars (i love you Jamie Lee Curtis, you rock), slight age gap? (the reader is around the same age as Max)
Request: this is a long one besties, but you can read the request here! + “Hello! Can I please request nepo!reader who's an actress and maybe has an oscar or something? Maybe with Lewis or Daniel”
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! this title changed so many times i lost track, but at the end, i went with the song – mainly because harry styles. i don’t know what’s wrong with me but this was very hard to write because i had BIG plans for it, so i’m sorry it took a while for me to finish it. also, i listened to a lot of la la land for some reason, so here you go. i hope i did it justice, and this was definitely very fun to write and i had a great time writing it, so thank you, to the anons, for the request, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 
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Growing up with parents who were obsessed with Formula One had finally taken its toll on you, you decide as you walk towards the Red Bull Hospitality. Your father’s sudden retirement from acting, combined with your mother’s stubborn personality is the reason why you suddenly find yourself at the 2023 Australian Grand Prix. You don’t really know why they didn’t wait for the one in Miami, or perhaps Las Vegas, since their primary residence is in the US, but you had no choice but to join them when they pulled out the ‘We’re getting old’ card. So there you are, after 15 hours of flying over the Pacific Ocean, in Melbourne and ready to enjoy the racing weekend. Or so you think – because you spend the entirety of Friday catching up on lost sleep while cursing every single time your parents decide to call you to let you know how much of a great time they’re having. 
In the end, you get ready Saturday morning, to get breakfast with your parents before leaving for Albert Park. Just as you’re about to leave your room, your eyes fall on a familiar hat, adorned with a certain number, and you put it on your head without giving it a second thought. Your parents don’t comment on your choice of merchandise even if they find it odd, which is good, you think, because you don’t particularly want to hear your father tease you over your “teenage crush”.  The whole paddock is buzzing by the time you get there, and you immediately feel guilty because you missed the practice sessions the previous day. You quickly lose your parents to the crowd around you, too busy looking at the action around you, when you hear your name being called from somewhere. You look around trying to find the source of the voice, when you find a familiar face which makes you smile. 
“Oh my god, what are you doing here?” You ask, quickly pulling Samira for a hug, who in return points to the camera. 
“Weekend job, babe.” She laughs. “I’ve interviewed your father just a couple of minutes ago, actually.” 
“Oh no,” You laugh and shake your head. “Did he tell you about his petunias?” “He did, indeed.” Samira nods and hands you one of the microphones in her hand. “Are you up for a quick interview?” She asks you as she gives you an innocent smile. 
You nod while letting out a chuckle. “Well, someone has to save your viewers from my father’s garden talk, so why not?” 
“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Samira tells you, her words coming of a bit slurred because of the way she talks too fast. She then turns to the camera after making sure that your mic is working. “Welcome back to the second day of the Australian Grand Prix, I’m here with Y/N Y/LN, whose father we just spoke to; Y/N, is this a family day out, or what?” 
“This is definitely a family day out, Samira.” You laugh, nodding to strengthen your point. “Not a very usual one, we usually prefer to stay a bit more local for the weekend outings, but you never know where we’ll be next, I guess.” 
“By ‘local’, do you mean the Oscars, perhaps? I mean, can we talk about your win for a moment? How does it feel to be the receiver of the award for the Actress in a Supporting Role?” 
You take a deep breath as you feel your smile widen, as you can’t even try to hide your happiness. “It feels amazing, let me tell you. It was an amazing opportunity and I can’t thank enough to the lovely director and everyone who made the movie possible.” Samira nods with a satisfied look on her face as you answer. “Congratulations once again for your win. I have to ask, big Red Bull fan?” She asks you in a teasing voice.
“What?” You asked, confused. Only to realise the hat sitting on your head when she points to it with a silent chuckle. You let out a laugh while instinctively touching the hat on your head. “Oh god, you could say so, I guess; yeah.” 
“I mean, I have to comment on the obvious part here.” She points to the hat while shooting the camera a look. “Number 3? You do realise the changes in the grid, don’t you?” 
You laugh at her teasing voice, shrugging and smiling with an innocent look. “What can I say, I like to avoid the reality and live in my delusions.” After a few more teasing from Samira, you explain with a laugh, “No jokes, though, I honestly hope Daniel Ricciardo returns to Red Bull somehow because I don’t know how I’ll cope without him for another season.” 
“A big Danny Ric fan, then, I presume?” Samira asks, pointedly. 
“Oh yeah, been for a while now.”
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After you’re done with your interview and bid adieu to Samira, who thanks you a dozen times more, you find your parents at the Red Bull hospitality, speaking with none other than Christian Horner himself, accompanied by Max. It’s a slightly awkward transition when you join their conversation, but it passes quickly. It doesn’t take long for your parents to be involved with their own conversation with the team principle, and for you and Max to speak amongst yourselves. Although you ask him every single question that comes to your mind about racing, whether it makes sense or not, and he answers each of them without discouraging you. 
He pulls a funny face when he realises your choice of merch, pointing to your hat with a mischievous smile on his face. “Interesting choice, I would have gone with Checo.” 
You roll your eyes and huff, taking your hat in the process. “You’re just jealous because it’s not your number, Max.” 
“You wanna try that again?” Max raises his eyebrows. 
“So what if I’m wearing his number?” You ask, arms crossed over your chest. “He’s a very good driver.”
“Who is not driving this seaso– Ow! Stop it!” Max exclaims as you hit his arm repeatedly in an attempt to stop him talking. “I hope you’re just as charming when you meet him.”
You pull a face while asking, “What do you mean ‘when I meet him’?”
He gives you an unamused look. “You’re either a very good actress, or you are very bad at checking your social media.” His eyes widen when you match his look, which tells him everything he needs to know. “You know he’s around, right? He’s shooting promo stuff, I think.” 
“What do you mean he’s around?” You shriek in an attempt to hide your hat, as if Daniel is actually around to see it. 
“Yeah, wait, let me call him.” He takes out his phone and quickly dials him before you have the opportunity to tell him not to do that, but he quickly shoves his phone back into his pocket when he spots someone familiar over your shoulder and waves them over. 
Your eyes widen as you hiss, “You’re the worst, you know that?” 
He winks at you a playfully in return, “Don’t forget to invite me to your wedding.” Then, he shakes the hand of the driver, who finally makes his way to both of you, and pulls him into what you can only describe as a ‘bro hug’. “Hello, man.” 
“Hello, mate.” Daniel greets him back. His eyes widen in recognition when he catches your eyes over Max’s shoulder, and he side-steps to shake your hand with excitement, which only makes you clutch the hat closer to your chest. “Hello, you’re Y/N Y/LN. Oh my god, I’m a big fan!” 
“M-me too!” You manage to get out, and then quickly add, “A big fan of you, not myself. That would be very egotistical of me.” You inhale a sharp breath as you ignore the look Max gives you, and close your eyes for a moment before opening them again. “Please ignore that, I think the jet lag is finally catching up with my brain.” 
“Sure, we’ll call it the jet lag.” Max mumbles, which earns him a hit with your elbow in his ribs. “Ow!” 
“I’m this close to switching teams and supporting Mercedes instead.” You lift your hand to show the minimal space you’ve left between your thumb and pointer-finger. 
“I think I should take over, here before you drive her away, Max.” He jokingly shakes his hand in a motion to make him go away, and then turns you with a warm smile as Max leaves the two of you to join some of the engineers nearby. “Now, should we get you a Red Bull?”
Talking to Daniel is very easy, you realise quickly. Once you (both) get over your shyness, the conversation just flows in a way you’re not used to. He, too, answers any questions you might have like Max did, but the look in his eyes are different when you show interest in something he’s particularly passionate about. He asks you about receiving your first Oscar, and you ask him about how his wine business is going – which ends up with him promising to send a few bottles over so that you can give it your stamp of approval; you both decide that your review is going be on the back of the bottles. 
“But doesn’t it get into your eyes when you’re spraying it?” You ask him, trying to comprehend how the champagne they spray doesn’t go everywhere. “And doesn’t it burn? It has alcohol, and… bubbles.”
“You might be onto something here.” He mumbles in thought, thinking whether the champagne burned his eyes or not. “Occupational hazard?” He asks in an uncertain voice, hoping it satisfies your question as an answer. 
“Oh, right.” You nod, taking another sip from the can he got you. “It’s crazy, you’ve won like what? 8 races? That’s crazy, you’re crazy.” The way you keep saying whatever comes to your mind makes Daniel smile as the energy you’re feeling taking over your body for the time being. “Wow, I’ve never felt like this, is this what energy drinks do to you?” 
“Probably why you shouldn’t drink too much.” He agrees.
“Sorry.” You smile apologetically, suddenly very aware of the fact that you are, in fact, rattling nonsense in front of your biggest celebrity crush. “You must think I’m crazy, and I shouldn’t be holding you back. I’m sure you have better things to do.”
Daniel is panicking inside when you start to get up, his mind scrambling up words to find a way to make you stay – he feels like a kid who’s asking his parents to let him play for a little longer. It’s not that he is not a social person, he is, but the conversation the two of you share is one of the most meaningful ones to him, even though you’re not actually talking about anything that deep. But he realises there is no pretences with you, no expectations, nothing to hide. He enjoys the way you speak what’s on your mind, whether it might be complimentary or the opposite, but he enjoys how you present your opinion and why you have it. He knows he’s extremely starstruck at that very moment, god knows he’s met enough famous people to know what it feels like, but it’s the kind of starstruck that makes him want to be not shy about it. He wants to keep talking to you for as long as you can tolerate him, because in his mind, he might be the one who is butchering the whole conversation up just by shutting up and succumbing to his shyness. He’s hyperaware of the fact that he has held himself back over the past hour, just because he was thinking about the fact that your hair is looking very shiny under the Australian sun and it is his number on your hat. It’s not something the two of you talked about, yet, but when he realises that it is his number on it, there is this inexplicable pride surging over him.
So, with his entire courage, he says, “Stay.” He clears his throat to buy himself some time to think of something else to say. “I mean, I don’t have anything else I need to do, and it’s very nice to talk to you. So, you know, if you want to, we could maybe, I don’t know, continue to talk?”
“Oh.” You let out a breath, eyes wide with excitement (and a little bit of apprehension), but despite all the nervousness you’re feeling, you find yourself back in your seat, and mumbling. “Of course, it’s very nice to speak with you too.” 
And so you find yourself immersed in another conversation with the Aussie seated across from you. He is open about the past year – which as a fan you’re dying to know what happened, but don’t want to question him because he is only human after all. But for some reason, it comes naturally to talk about his pseudo-retirement with you. He tells you about his plans for the year, and how he hopes to get back to a seat by the start of the next season. In return, you tell him about the time how you almost stopped acting, but the last project you gave a change brought you an Oscar. It’s a much deeper conversation than before, but somehow you find yourself talking without feeling nervous to do so – without any second thoughts. 
“I, uh, I like your hat.” He smiles nervously, pointing to the discarded hat on your lap. 
You laugh nervously as your fingers occupy themselves with the visor of the cap. “Thanks, it’s my favourite.” 
“Yeah?” The question that leaves his mouth is so soft that you think you would miss it if your eyes weren’t so focused on him. 
“Oh, yeah.” You assure him with a little shrug. “Much better than orange, let me tell you, I look hideous in orange.” 
A large smile finds its way onto your lips when he lets out a hearty laugh, shaking his head. “I somehow find it impossible to believe.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re flirting with me, Daniel.” You tease, causing him to smirk back at you. He doesn’t answer you, but instead looks at you with a very particular look which confirms what you’ve just said. Your small stare-down is sadly broken apart by Max, who calls out Daniel’s name to let him know that Christian is looking for him. 
There is a sad look in his eyes when he realises that he has to go for real this time, but you give him a sad smile as you let him know you’ll be watching the screens for him during the quali. As you feel the wind breezing around you, you instinctively wrap your arms around your middle to get rid of the shiver the colder air provides. A look of recognition passes through Daniel’s face as he asks, “Are you cold?”
“A little, but it’s oka–”
“I’ll be right back.” Daniel announces as he leaves you and Max, causing the latter to turn to you with his phone in his hand. Max lets out a deep sigh, mumbling something under his breath in a language you don’t recognise, most likely Dutch. 
“What are you doing?” You ask him, head tilted to the side to try and see what he’s looking at on his phone. He turns it to you after a while, apparently finding what he was looking for. “What’s that?” You ask, pointing to the phone which displays a paused video of Daniel sitting in a chair. 
“He’ll probably kill me once he realises I’ve made you watch this, but the way the two of you looking at each other like lovesick puppies is making me nauseous.” He points to the phone with his head. “Play it.”
You give him a sceptical look, but do as he says and press the little triangle in the middle of the screen. The interview starts to play, and Daniel is talking about racing and the ongoing season. You let the video play for a while before looking up at Max again, more confused. “What am I supposed to see?” 
“For fuck’s sake.” Max groans, taking his phone out of your hand and fast-forwarding the video to find what he’s looking for. “Here.” 
You press play on the video once again, but this time it starts with the interviewer asking Daniel about his celebrity crush. While he’s thinking about his answer in the video, you throw an unamused look at Max, who urges you to direct your attention back to the video. Just as you move your eyes back onto the screen, his answer echoes through the phone speakers which makes your eyes widen. “What?” You ask Max as you scramble to play back the section of the interview. 
“So, any celebrity crushes we should be keeping our eyes out for?” The interviewer asks, out of frame. 
There is a thoughtful look on his face as he thinks about his answer and once he decides, there is a smile breaking on his face. “I mean, probably Y/N Y/LN. I’ve watched everything she’s in, probably multiple times, she’s just so talented.” 
You watch that particular part of the video back a couple of times before Max takes his phone out of your hands with a look asking if you’re okay. “When was this?” 
“I don’t know,” He shrugs. “A couple of years back, but I don’t think his answer has changed over the years.”
You blink a couple of times, trying to digest the fact that your celebrity crush also named you as his celebrity crush. “Oh, wow.” 
Daniel returns a few moments later with a hoodie in his hands. He smiles at you warmly as he hands it to you. “Here, that should help.” 
“Oh, Daniel, you didn’t have to.” You breath out, taking the hoodie out of his hand and putting it on with his help when he gives you a look that says he won’t accept it back. After you fix the oversized hoodie on you, you turn to him with a smile as you also put on the hat on your head. 
The smile he gives you in return when he sees you in his number and merch fills your stomach with butterflies, and Max must be feeling weird about being a part of the scene because he lets Daniel know that he’ll wait at the garage. As Max leaves, Daniel turns back at you with a sad smile on his face. “I really don’t wanna leave, but–”
“You have a job to do, Daniel.” You smile with an understanding, putting an encouraging hand on his forearm. “Although I would love to keep you to myself, I’m sure there are fans out in the world who would love to see you back as much as I do.” 
He lets out a small groan. “Please tell me you’ll be here tomorrow as well.” 
“Well, I came all this way to watch the race too, so I’ll probably be around.” You tease him. 
“So I’ll see you tomorrow?” He asks you in a hopeful voice.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” You affirm. 
After a final look, both of start walking in different directions. And just as you’re about to leave the hospitality, you hear him call out your name. When you turn to look at him over your shoulder you hear him yell, “My number looks good on you.” 
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In retrospect, you wanted to arrive earlier to find a certain driver, but you couldn’t sleep last night because you couldn’t stop thinking about the day’s events. So when you wake up later than your alarm Sunday morning, you rush to get ready to leave your hotel room. By the time you arrive at Albert Park, it’s almost noon. You’re not late to see the race, there is still couple of hours until the big event, but your eyes look around the chaotic hospitality to spot Daniel. You can see a few familiar faces, some engineers you met yesterday and the drivers talking to some crew members near the garage, but there is a small frown on your face as you keep looking for the Australian driver. You’re about to give up when, suddenly, you feel someone grabbing your arm – which makes you jump back with a shriek. 
“You scared me!” You exclaim, looking at the stranger who, thankfully, lets go of your arm after your outburst. “Sorry, can I help you?” 
“Sorry! I thought you were lost and looking for your boyfriend.” They respond, pointing towards the garages. “I saw him enter a few minutes ago.” 
“I don’t have a–” You start the say, but the person is already starting to walk away to the opposite direction. “Boyfriend.” You sigh, deciding to take the advice and see if Daniel might be at the garage after all.
If you thought there was a chaos outside the garage, you’re greatly wrong, because the only word you can use to describe the Red Bull garage is chaotic. There are crew members everywhere, trying to get the cars ready for the upcoming race. So, you do your best to slip through them without disturbing their work. Some of the members you met yesterday greet you, which makes you smile as you greet them back. You catch a familiar set of eyes, which lose the boredom in them and widen with recognition once they meet yours and he starts walking towards you.
He's beaming by the time he reaches you, as he exclaims, “You’re here!” 
“Hi!” You greet him and then pull him for a quick hug.  
“I’m glad you made it, Y/N.” He smiles down at you, without letting you go, and then gestures around the garage. “Have you looked around?” 
You nod, matching his smile as you look up at him, “A little bit when I came in, it’s crazy out there today?” 
He lets out an affirmative voice. “It’s always like that during a race day. Where are you watching the race from?” 
“The Paddock Club, I think?” You answer him with a small frown. “We watched the quali from there yesterday.” 
He pulls away from you slowly, and begrudgingly, holding your hand and starts to pull you away from the entrance. “I have a better idea.” He walks you towards the front of the garage, stopping right in front of the barriers and asking a crew member for a headset. 
There is a playful smile on his face when he turns to you with them in his hands, which makes your eyes widen with concern. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here?” 
He waves his hand, passing the headset to you as he assures, “Of course, it’s the best seat in the house. Plus, it’ll be easier for us to find each other.” 
“You’ve thought this through, haven’t you?” You ask him as you do your best to narrow your eyes. 
“Absolutely, yes.” He nods with excitement. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re kind of my celebrity crush.” 
You giggle in response. “Oh, I know. Max made me watch a video.” 
“He– what?”
“It was a lovely compliment.” You assure him, patting his arm with a sympathetic smile. 
“I’m going to kill–” He begins to say, but one of the engineers call out his name, telling him that they need him before the race. He turns to you with a groan, jumping over the barriers instead of going through the door, which makes you chuckle, and points to you while walking backwards. “We have to talk about this.” 
“We will.” You assure him. Just as you watch him walk by, you call out, “Daniel!”
“Yeah?” He calls back at you. 
“You’re my celebrity crush, too.” 
Instead of answering he winks at you over his shoulder, which makes you giggle. You’re sure that you’re also blushing, but decide not to think about it too much and focus on the race which is starting. You’re on the edge of your seat the entire time, from the start to the second restart to the end. The people around you are not much different, everybody holding their breaths every time one of the cars make a sharp turn. You let out an occasional gasp, or wince throughout the entire race, your hands covering your shocked expression. But, at the end, you’re happy to see that Max is P1 and Checo managed to finish the race in P5. Everyone around you seems to be sharing your opinions, since they are celebrating the good results when you take off your headset. 
Daniel finds you eventually, after speaking with some of the engineers and pit crew, and there is a huge smile on his face as he asks, “So, how’d you like it?” 
“Are you kidding me? It was insane!” You exclaim, using your hands to relay your point. “Eight cars, Daniel, eight cars! That’s crazy!” 
“I get you’ve liked it?” He asks, his eyebrows raising. 
You let out a scoff while shaking your head. “Of course I liked it!” 
“I’m glad you liked it, Y/N.” He smiles, “So, I’m your celebrity crush, huh?”
“Oh please, you already knew it!” You roll your eyes at his smug expression. “I’m wearing your number, aren’t I?”
He shrugs, letting his hands occupy themselves with the end of the hoodie you’re wearing. “And it looks good on you.” He tilts his head to get a better look at your eyes as he asks, “You’re wearing it again today? Isn’t it some sort of fashion crime in Hollywood?”
“Well, I’ve never fit in much anyway.” You shrug, letting a smirk break at your lips. “It might just become my favourite item of clothing, just so you know.” 
“Yeah? I’m happy to hear that.” 
“You should be, I’m very particular about my hoodies.”
He smiles at your comment, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes for some reason. “When is your flight back?”
“Tuesday.” You answer him, suddenly very aware of the fact that you don’t have much time left in Melbourne at all. “But I can be convinced to stay for longer.” 
His eyes widen with surprise, excitement taking over the sad look in record time. “You can? Really?” You nod your head, which makes him pull you closer to him with the hand still holding your hoodie. “Let me take you out on a date.” His eyes seem to beg. 
You nod your head once again, tilting your head backwards to keep your gaze locked to his. “Yeah, I’d like that.” 
“Yes? Are you sure? It’s the point of no return.” There is a playful tone to his voice. 
You roll your eyes, taking off your cap and placing it onto his head. “I’m sure I’ll be fine, ‘honey badger’.” You tease. “Who knows? You might just convince me to say a while longer.” 
“Yeah, I’d like that, too.” He echoes your words from earlier. 
2K notes · View notes
welcometomyoasis · 18 days
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Seventeen with an s/o who experiences hyperfixation
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Synopsis: How seventeen would help their s/o through hyperfixation/ hyperfocus episodes. Svt x gn! reader | fluff, comfort, established relationship | 1.6k words | warnings: hyperfixation, hyperfocus, stress, mental health issues, neglecting self-care, food | requested by @4momorin Disclaimer and a/n: I do personally experience hyperfixation episodes so I am aware of how this feels like. Hyperfixation/ hyperfocus can be caused by several factors and are usually symptoms of ADHD, or mental health issues such as anxiety, OCD, depression etc. It’s not inherently good or bad either as it can manifest itself in many different forms. You can read more here. I hope I did this trope justice? I wasn’t quite sure how to write it without making it too angsty so i just split it into 2 broad groups…
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☾𖤓 He’s your anchor. He holds you down firmly when you feel like you’re adrift at sea.
Seungcheol, Junhui, Hoshi, Dokyeom, Mingyu, Dino
➵ Honestly, he wouldn’t really realise you’re beginning to spiral into one of your hyperfixation/ hyperfocus episodes. It's not because he’s not observant or in tune with your emotions. Rather, the objects of your fixation are so so varied. Plus, not all your episodes are negative. There was the time you ate a particular food for weeks until you got sick of it because you found it so tasty, or the time you binge watched a 16 episode show in 24 hours because you fell in love with the plot. Ah, and don’t even remind him of the time where you fell in love with a certain character. You were drooling all over the character, buying their merch, changing your lock screen. Like, he’s right there? You can kiss him and hug him, he’s a physical being. Please give him attention and not that fictional character. Yea, he was all sulky and whiny for the entire time you were obsessed. 
➵ You’re just such an easily excitable, adorable person with a big heart. It’s only natural for you to be obsessed over different things at different times. At some point, he’ll realise that you are in the middle of your episodes. But as long as it’s not an episode stemming from stress and you’re continuing to take care of yourself, he really isn’t going to intervene. Your fixations will pass eventually, and you’re happy, healthy, eating and sleeping well (even if you stay up longer because your mind is swimming with thoughts about the object of your fixation). That’s all he could ask for. In fact, he will even encourage you more or indulge you in your fixations. You want the same food for 7 days straight? He’s ordering it on his phone for you. You want to watch the same show again although he’s already sick of it? Sure, whatever you say baby. You want merch of that character? Uhm, he’s kind of crying inside but sure… he’s pulling out his card just for you. If keeping you happy through your fixations will keep you happy, he’s willing to do whatever it takes. 
➵ He will only intervene to attempt to pull you out of your hyperfixation episode when he thinks your wellbeing is at risk. Your mental and physical well being is his number 1 priority. And admittedly, there are many times where your hyperfixation episodes manifest themselves negatively. You could be hyper focused on work that it’s causing you so much stress. You’re not eating, sleeping. You barely have time to relax. Or, your episode could stem from anxiety, depression, etc. You could be pouring all your time and energy into something as insignificant as a cup that was placed in the wrong cupboard because that’s just how your mind has decided to cope with all the complex feelings you were dealing with. It’s a transference of your jumbled emotions to something else. The worst part? As insignificant as your fixation might be, in your mind, it can feel like you’re on a sailboat adrift at sea. It’s captured your attention so deeply that your mind is in overdrive, the currents in your mind constantly pushing you forward. You end up floating further and further away into the middle of nowhere, where there’s nothing to be seen for miles except the object of your fixation. It’s as if you’re staring into the horizon with no land in sight.
➵ So, he intervenes. He’s your anchor. He’s going to ground you, and help you stop your mind from drifting too far away. He’s going to be firm, but gentle. He will tell you outright that your hyperfixation episode, it’s hurting you. He doesn’t care that you might get angry at him for prying, or if you get defensive and deny anything is going on. He rather you express those emotions at him rather than for you to bottle them up inside. You need help. That’s what he’s here for. Please understand this isn't a confrontation, it’s an intervention. He’ll stand firm (even if it means pestering you) until you cave in and let him help you. Cry to him, rant to him, use him as a bolster, whatever makes you feel better. He will pamper you so so much and treat you like royalty. He needs to make you feel loved, like you’re heard, like your feelings are valid. His presence and his care for you will help you feel a little better, even if you’re not completely pulled out of your hyperfixation episode yet. It grounds you by helping you ease that helpless, airy feeling that you’ve been dealing with. It’s certainly going to take time to completely get over your hyperfixation episode, and it won’t be easy, but please know that he’s here for you, and you can overcome whatever it is you’re going through together. 
☾𖤓 He’s your gentle ocean wave. He lightly nudges you along when you feel stuck and feel like you’re about to sink. 
Jeonghan, Joshua, Wonwoo, Woozi, Minghao, Seungkwan, Vernon
➵ As you begin fixating on something, there are both subtle and obvious signs your boyfriend picks up on. You’re more distracted, your eyes glaze over occasionally as if your mind is far away. You’re becoming more quiet. You’re lost in your thoughts because your mind is whirring with information, or because you’re desperate to get more information when you’re in that “i must research everything phase.” Of course, there are more obvious signs. You could be researching something specific for hours and hours on end, or you could be showing him the specific object of your fixation on your phone regularly. You could also be mentioning something more frequently. There was once you mentioned the same food stall 4 times in a row in the span of a 5 minute conversation, and this continued for a few days. And then there was the time you went on and on about your horrible progress in your school project for days until you finally submitted it. 
➵ Usually, your boyfriend knows you’re having a hyperfixation/ hyperfocus episode before you do. It’s an unconscious thing your mind does, and sometimes you don’t even realise your hyper fixating on something until days or even weeks later. But he knows, and you can be sure he will keep a close eye on you from that point forward. He’s more than happy to stand to the side and let you ramble or babble on about your new favourite show, food, object. He thinks it’s cute how your eyes sparkle and come to life when you find something interesting, and he loves it when you come talk to him about it. It makes him feel so special and loved because he’s one of the most important people in your life, a person you’d so willingly share your joy and interests with. Actually, what makes him the happiest (even if he doesn’t say it), is when you begin to hyperfixate on something positive related to him. There were times when you would go down a rabbit hole of sorting through your old photos and memories with him, and times when you would hyperfixate on him (or have you always been hyper fixated on him?). As irrational as hyperfixations can be, to him, he thinks it’s rational, and endearing that you go through phases where you would just be extra clingy and affectionate to him. It makes him fall in love with you all over again when he sees just how much love you have for him. 
➵ He will take a more delicate approach to your hyperfixation episodes compared to the previous group. He takes note of all the signs you exhibit when you begin to spiral. He will also assess what you’re going through at the time and your behaviour. There are times when you suddenly get into a new show when you have a whole bunch of work to do or when you’re horribly stressed. Other times, you have this overly hyper, happy smile plastered on your face when you continuously bring something up, and he can tell it is a happy facade you put up as an attempt to hide the emptiness in your eyes. It’s your mind’s way of protecting you and dealing with your emotions. You’re avoiding the root cause of your problems and jumbled emotions by fixating on something that makes you feel like you’re not you. Shows, food, characters, a new game, these things help you feel other emotions and it makes you feel other emotions besides anxiety, stress, depression. Then there are also times when you’re so stressed and burnt out dealing with work where you’re just sitting at your desk staring at your screen blankly while your mind goes into overdrive trying to force something out. 
➵ As soon as he realises you’re spiraling for negative reasons, he’ll try to do all he can from becoming sucked into the deep abyss of your mind. For you, it feels as if you’re approaching a whirlpool, you are stuck and all you can do is let the current pull you in. You don’t have the physical and emotional strength to swim away and fight it. So he acts as a gentle ocean wave, he wants to change the direction of the current. He’s going to be that outside force you need to help you steer away from the whirlpool. The moment you exhibit the signs of a spiral due to your deteriorating mental health, he’s sitting you down and taking you into your arms gently. He understands your hyperfixation episodes are intense, and sometimes, even with him there, there’s no real way of breaking you out of it immediately. But, that’s no reason not to try to help you avoid it. He will ask you if you want to talk about it. If you do, he’ll be listening so attentively and empathetically while holding you like you’re a delicate raft about to break against the rough seas. If you don’t, he’ll take you out and pamper you. You could go for a walk to clear your mind, or go on a date. Whatever it is, he’s going to be doing everything he can to keep your mind occupied with other things and off your complicated emotions. With his help, you’ll get through this quickly and safely. And you’ll bounce back stronger than ever. 
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taglist: @weird-bookworm @wonijinjin @babyleostuff @wishing-fieshes @kwanienies @mayashu @megseungmin @porridgesblog @haecien @mirxzii @scoupsofcherries @eightlightstar @brownsugarbaybee @zaggprincess2 @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @treehouse-mouse @vcutparis @heavenfilm
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skipper1331 · 8 months
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Protective Moms // Jessie Fleming
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a/n: based off this request. Hope you like it :)
Matchday.
Canada vs the United States.
Girlfriend vs girlfriend.
Jess and you met in London, both playing for the blues.
The two of you hit off straight away, same interests, same sense of humor, you were similar in many ways but also so different that you completed each other perfectly. It came as no surprise when you revealed your relationship to your Chelsea teammates. They loved you together.
Only the Chelsea girls knew about you though. You both thought it was important to tell them yet you couldn't tell your national teammates. You kept your personal life private which is why you decided to tell them in person and not through the phone.
Considering that Tobin Heath played for Arsenal you could've told her as well as Christen Press but to be honest you were afraid. Tobin was one of the first players to approach you after you had your first call-up. She took you under her wig and became a mentor. So did Christen. You respected them so much and despite the fact that you would do anything for Jess, you were still afraid that Tobin and Christen would be disappointed in you. Or worse, if you introduce Jessie and they wouldn't like her.
As the Call-Up for camp came you were excited. You loved the chelsea girls but you also missed your friends at home. What you didn‘t like though was that you would play a friendly against Canada. There was always a certain rivalry in those games, it was physical, intense and nobody goes down without a fight.
As usual, you wore your headphones on the bus ride to the stadium. Next to you sat Rose, your bus buddy, while Press and Heath sat in the row next to you. They'd be lying if they didn't say that they noticed you checking your phone a lot and smiling at it. However, they didn’t do anything about it. If you wanted to tell them something, they would be there but they wouldn't force you to. They've known you long enough to know how you handle things.
Flem🔥
Can I have your shirt later? x
You
Only If I get yours too xx
Flem🔥
deal
Shortly after the game started, the first slide tackles came from both teams.
The game was balanced, sometimes Canada had their chances and sometimes your team, the goalkeepers definitely had something to do.
Jess and you didn‘t interact much, yes, off pitch you’re a couple but rivals on the field. The only interaction was when Canada had a corner kick and you pressed your body against hers. The canadian would bet that you did it on purpose as your breath hit the back of her neck. It made her go crazy, weak in the knees. Well, after all, it was the first time in 2 weeks that she saw you and could feel your proximity. (Spoiler: whether she had seen you or not, she still would have had weak knees and a racing heart. She always had when she’s near you)
It was 0-0 at half time. A solid result, but not satisfying.
Every single player on the field got more eager to score which resulted in more ruthless tackles.
You were in the opponent's half when Chapman took the ball away from you. Immediately you’re after her to get the ball back. You’re close behind her as she played a pass, her elbow slamming with so much strength in your face, right on your nose. "Fuck" you couldn‘t even scream out of pain because it hurt so much. You fell to the ground as you held your nose, your head hitting the ground. The game continued without anyone noticing that you were lying there. The only one who noticed was the person who caused it, she was standing by your side yelling at the referee. The game was only paused after a number of boo‘s from the stands and as soon as your girlfriend saw you curled up on the floor she ran to you as fast as she could. "Get the fuck away from her!" the brunette shoved Chapman as she kneeled down. She wasn't one to swear, but seeing you on the ground? It turned her into someone else, a protector who must protect you, her girl, at all costs. "Can you take your hands out of your face?" the sweet voice of your girl asked, taking a hold on your wrists. Just as she was about to pull your hands down slowly an angry Tobin Heath pushed her body to the ground, "Don‘t touch her" she hissed. Wrong move. Because when Tobin touched the young Canadian, Sinclair stepped in, "You don‘t touch her"
While Heath and Sinclair provoked each other, Christen went completely nuts on the bench. Still no medic team anywhere near you. Jess was by your side again, your hands out of your face as she could see the blood that was spread across your face. Definitely a broken nose and a possible black eye. You hated blood. You'll immediately feel nauseous and dizzy when you see it whether it’s your own or someone else's. "The medics are almost there, love. Keep your eyes open" her voice laced with worry as your eyes kept closing.
Finally, when the medic team arrived, they tried to stop the bleeding. After a minute or two everything seemed to be fine and you were able to stand up again which turned out to be a big mistake because as soon as you got back on your feet you passed out. They didn't know if it was because of the blood you saw or because the knock was so bad. Either way, you got substituted.
"Sub me off! I need to be with her. Please" Jess begged as she saw you getting carried of the field in the stretcher. Sinc had never seen the small Canadian so desperate while talking to their coach.
Unfortunately, Chris, who actually wanted to be by your side, was subbed on for you.
When Jess got subbed off which was 5 played minutes later she ran to the medic room. She had never felt so helpless.
On the pitch, your mentors played sloppy, everyone could see that your injury effected them. Canada as well couldn't play accurately without one of their key players. The game was dominated by bad passes and missed shots.
"How is she?" Jess questioned as she entered the room, "Broken nose and a little concussion."
You were lying on the bed, your nose bandaged with plasters, sleeping. As the last medic team member left the room the canadian sat next to you on a chair. She held your hand while her thumb stroked over your knuckles.
"I would swap shirts but mine is blood stained" you murmured. Your throat was sore but your face hurt less than before, the painkillers slowly working. "Please don‘t joke" the girl whispered, still not able to calm down "I was so worried"
"My girl, i‘m a fighter-"
The door was swung open as a worried Christen Press entered with Tobin Heath behind her, "Are you ok- What are you doing here?" the same woman asked who pushed Jess away from you.
Frightened, the canadian jumped out of her seat, turning to look at your team moms. Chris with a smile on her face, connecting the dots while Tobs had a scowl on hers. "Um.. I.." your girlfriend stuttered as she let go of your hand.
"Jess is my girlfriend"
"What?!"
You groaned as your head ache got worse due the loud noise, your hands massaging your temples. "What did the doc say?" united states number 23 asked, placing her hand on Tobins back, changing the subject. "Broken nose, little concussion. I need to rest" you answered. Tobin was glaring at your lover who was shuffling with her feet. "We‘ll talk about this, madame" the veteran said before she left the room. She was concerned about you but the news that the canadian was your girl was something she had to process first.
Her little boo with a girlfriend.
She‘d witnessed your highlights, watched you grow in the game, supported you, accompanied you at the lowest point in your career. You had been through a lot together, so maybe it was her pride that hurt because you didn't tell her earlier about your love story and that she had to find out about it through an injury, almost going for Chapman's throat because of that, by the way.
"She‘ll come around" Christen said as she saw how your face saddened, "I‘ll talk to her" she went to your side before she pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead to assure you that everything will be fine.
"Maybe we all could get some coffee?" the suggestion coming from Jessie, "If you want to get to know me? Officially, i mean"
-
A few days later you‘re sitting at a little coffee shop waiting for your team moms to show up. Jess was next to you, holding your hand. It was unclear who was trying to calm whom. The brunette was nervous because she was meeting people you cared so much about and wanted to show them she was worthy of your love and you were nervous because you wanted them to like Jessie.
"Hi" you both greeted synchronously, slightly giggling at one another. "Hey" the dark haired women pressed a kiss to your forehead as she hugged you, carefully not to touch your injured nose. Jess stretched out her hand for Tobin to shake as she repeated her greeting. "Hello" the forward replied, accepting her hand. You felt relief as you saw their little interaction. Christen had definitely spoken to the forward about her behavior a few days ago.
The four of you talked for a while, there was no tension or anything negative. Everybody was enjoying the 'parents meet kids girlfriend'-meeting, it even seemed like scary Tobin Heath liked Jessie but there was this one question on the tip of her tongue that she wanted answered. "Jessie, I need to ask you this" she started as Jess looked at you nervously, your hand finding her thigh, "What are your intentions with y/n?"
She rested her elbows on the table, leaning forward to show her authority, Jess gulping under Tobins stare "Well," helplessly, she looked at CP who, however, was also waiting for an answer. Just because she, in terms of her protectiveness, acted calm and collected didn‘t mean she didn't want a straight answer to the question. She also had to know if your girlfriend was enough for you. "I love her. Umm, we‘re young but.. umm.. hopefully she‘ll be my wife one day" the canadian didn‘t really know how to answer that question. Her intensions were only good ones.
She wants to make you happy.
She wants to make you proud.
She wants to support you no matter what.
She wants to sit in the stands and she wants to cheer for you.
She wants to show you that you only deserved the best.
She wants to love you for the rest of her life.
She wants to be by your side as long as you‘ll let her.
She wants you.
Christen smiled like a proud parent as Tobin grinned widely. Jess looked cofused around, not understanding why the moms looked at her like that, you looking at her with the biggest heart eyes, "Oh no" she said as she understood those faces "I said that out loud, didn‘t I?"
"Jup"
Christen and Tobin got up, "My job here is done", ready to go.
"You chose a good one, y/n/n."
This time it was Christen who commented like Tobin would. In her mind, Heath agreed yet she would never admit stuff like that in prensence of Jess.
But Jessie was indeed a good one.
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pt. 2
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buckysegan · 1 month
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how silly of me, to fall in love with you.
Summary: when one of the new pilots around base get's an idea in his head about a certain nurse john egan, is having none of it. john x she. Word Count: 1.1k A/N: i saw a prompt in the tags about john not being willing to give up his jacket. but i think our little possessive bucky would willingly hand it over to lay his claim....i also wrote this in 30 minutes with no edits forgive me. a little prequel look to this pairing.
there was two things about john egan that any one that had been around base for more than five minutes were sure of, the man couldn't sing, and he didn't share her or buck. it was unfair of him and irrational really, to the point that just for just a moment bucky wondered if all of this was moderately cruel of him. despite all the thoughts in his head though, he couldn't help himself.
they weren't at the pub today which meant for a change he didn't have to watch the usual british majors hit on his girl, that was where his usual source of anguish came from because the boys knew that despite the fact bucky liked to advise that the pretty nurse was too good for any of them, especially him, the way his eyes lingered on her was enough of a claim. especially after lil and dye. and john knew, he knew that he was around her just enough that he managed to keep the rest of the boys at bay. that was what was so cruel off him, he wouldn't take her. honestly he didn't think he could because a man like him couldn't taint something so pure.
he just didn't want anyone else having her either.
it seemed that the message that she was his though, hadn't reached a number of the boys that had piled in over the last week and john was pretty sure he was one wrongly placed hand away from loosing it all together.
not even the hand on his thigh and gentle mumblings of his best friend was enough to calm the frazzling of nerves that were building in him. bucky was pretty sure he hadn't smiled in at least an hour, that had to be a record and someone needed to be careful. "she's not looking at them bucky, you don't have a damn thing to worry about." brady offered from across the table where they were all propped, as if each of the men were waiting for their major to blow and ready to pull him back given they'd heard plenty of stories of just how many of them it would take should he decide to loose his temper.
the scraping of bucky's chair had everyone's eyes pulled in his direction, even hers though she had been trying to ignore the way the pilots baby blues had burned into the back of her skull all night whenever she had been asked to dance with one of the boys. she had simply been a welcoming host, every one that knew her knew she was blind to any of the attention that she had received throughout the evening. now she along with the rest of the party was left watching as john stormed in the direction of the door muttering something about being back soon.
barely ten minutes had passed when she felt the heavy fabric droop over her shoulders, the hands on her waist with such boldness confirming just who had appeared despite the fact she had been talking to lieutenant hart. "john..." she trailed, spinning in his grasp as she moved to look up at him, only to realise slowly just how quiet the room had gone. john himself, couldn't bring himself to care at the audience, he had never been shy of a performance and this might have been his best one.
"hi baby." he hummed, fingers cupping at her chin for a second as he looked down at his handy work, the light sheep skin now crowding over her favorite person. "it seemed a little chilly in here, figured that you should be taking care of yourself." he mused quietly and he made no attempts to wipe the smirk that had replaced the glare he had been wearing as he had stormed out of here.
she could feel her cheeks turn an unfortunate shade of red that no amount of powder was going to be able to help her with. this over grown, infuriating man the very cause. at some point in time, when now she couldn't remember, she had fallen immovably in love with john egan. not that he seemed to notice, or if he had, not that he seemed willing to do anything about. she had never questioned why either. she had looked at him plenty, looked at the other nurses following him around base, she knew the options he had which only furthered her confusion at the jacket now slunk around her shoulders.
"no one else is wearing a jacket bucky." she was quick to huff though she had made no move to rid herself of the damn thing, marvelled still at how small this man managed to make her feel. "mhumm, that's the point baby, i'll see you at work tomorrow?" he asked, a side glance at hart telling him that the majors message had been received loud and clear and he knew the message would have been accepted on a wider level too. not everyone had met her, the damn light of his life that wondered around base like his very own sunshine, but everyone knew the distinct jacket that bucky flew in, and now everyone had seen her in it.
backing away to his table john already knew the taunts he would be greeted with but fishing for his glass as he sunk back to his seat, he didn't even bother to hide how proud of himself he was. "jesus john." gale was the first to groan at him, the others soon joining in. "why don't you just piss on her next time, that would be less obvious." brady again, was quick to jab. bucky himself could only offer another shrug of his shoulders as he let his gaze fall to the bar, where he knew she was now watching him from where she was propped. john egan didn't deserve her, he knew that, and neither did anyone else here, he was protecting her, that's all it was.
one day, when her husband came along and she had someone else to love her how she deserved, someone that wasn't a changed man. he would let her go, he'd move on and someone else could keep her safe. just for now the jacket would have to do, it was better than his alternative plan, to grab her, kiss her in the middle of the room and tumble out some sort of confession - how silly of me, to fall in love with you.
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pastel-kingdom · 1 month
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I think people who think having DID is so quirky and cool forget that
Theres times where I feel extreme emotions coming from someone but I’m not sure who.
Sometimes it happens during the day or night and It can get very overwhelming, especially if I don’t know who it is and cant help them.
Dreams can occur that will consist of said alter reliving certain situations or trauma
Or simply, thinking about a person or situation that happened and getting a wave of their emotions.
This can be good or bad but, I don’t talk about how often it happens, we don’t talk about it happening.
Sometimes we would just rather keep it moving and forget about it, but lately I’ve been feeling certain anxiety coming from someone and another person feeling regret and guilt or just depression.
Thankfully we have a sys self helper and a soother to lessen that load on the system and whoever is fronting at the time but again, this can be very stressful
Especially if one of those people feeling said emotion is the soother.
I think about how many people on tiktok have gotten caught outright faking or exaggerating their DID to make it seem like its so fun and so amazing to have this disorder but the truth is, its not.
Theres good and bad days but in the end it’s literally having some number of people in your head with their own thoughts, their own emotions, their own lives and their own faults.
We go through our own struggles, our own traumas and our own lives. All we want is security and happiness, no drama, no more trauma or shitty memories, no more flashbacks no more weird ass dreams, we just want to be happy.
Thanks for reading my little vent.
- Roman B
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utterlyotterlyx · 1 month
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Hiii <3 Could you do number 4 from the prompt list with Eris? It's my first time asking for a prompt or anything so i hope this isn't rude. 😅
Aw my loveeeee it isn't rude! Request your little heart out <3
I've already done 4 but I'll do it again for you with a different spin on it.
Can't Keep My Hands To Myself
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Modern!Eris x Reader
Summary - It's no secret that Eris has always wanted you, and now he has the perfect excuse to get up close and personal.
Warnings - slight pining, some fluff, swearing, hand fetish
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The sun bounced off of the hood of Cassian's car, and if you looked closer you could have sworn you could see wisps of steam rising from the matte black finish.
Folding your arms over your chest, you huffed, already knowing what was coming as soon as you'd point out a certain problem.
It had been Elain's idea to go to the coast that day, mainly so that you could all go to the theme park that ran along the beach, all being yourself, Elain and Lucien, Nesta and Cassian, and Eris. The latter of which was leaning against the hood of Cassian's vehicle with a sly grin written on his lips, sunglasses low on his nose, and hands bundled into his pockets.
Eris Vanserra was the bane of your existence, the cocky son of some noble lord in England who had moved to your state for college and had set an unfortunate eye on you. The heir could have anyone he wanted, but he was too busy chasing you to notice.
Eris had crashed one too many of your dates, and when you had made it clear that he needed to stop being an alphahole, he would slyly quip that none of the men you allowed into your life deserved you. He would always show his face at Elain and Lucien's apartment when you were there, which made you certain that one of them, probably Lucien, was sending him updates whenever you would show up. Eris stuck to your side when the entire circle decided to go out, whether that be bowling or dinner, or even clubbing, Eris was always reluctant to leave your side.
Possessive bastard.
You had lost count of how many times exactly you had denied his advances. It wasn't that you weren't attracted to him, you'd be foolish not to be, but you didn't really fancy ensuing a relationship with a future lord, you quite liked your life the way it was.
You majored in architecture, you had always appreciated the beauty of buildings and landscapes, you had travelled Europe and spent weeks in Paris where you sketched and redesigned buildings until your heart was full and bursting with inspiration. There was nothing you couldn't create.
Life as a lady didn't appeal to you, but life as an architect travelling the world and creating masterpieces very much did.
So, you made it your mission to deter the heir in whatever way you could, from cold shoulders to harsh quips, but it only seemed to spur him on more.
Eris stood before you, red hair perfectly styled into pushed back waves, looking far too good in his black jeans and open collared black shirt, a thin chain hung around his neck which matched the bracelet on his wrist, rings littered his fingers and you found your gaze drifting to his hands, hands you had thought about often when you were alone. You imagined them running through your hair and pulling at it, you imagined them around your throat, you imagined his fingers drifting along your thighs and gripping the skin there.
It was so sinful how much you thought of Eris' hands.
The door opened behind you and you rolled your eyes at the Archeron sisters who walked ahead of both Cassian and Lucien, who both looked exhausted from their bickering already.
Unfurling your arms from your chest, you pulled down the edge of your tennis skirt and tucked in a loose section of the deep green polo you adorned, "About time," you told them, "I'm baking out here."
"I know a place that could cool you down," Eris drawled from behind you, and you turned your head slightly to see him at your shoulder, looking down on you with his usual longingly seductive eye, "You, me, the Swiss alps on skis."
"Sounds positively awful," you smiled sickly sweet at him before moving your attention elsewhere, "I also hate to state the obvious but there are only five seats in Cass' car, and there's six of us," you motioned between the circle you had all formed and shrugged.
"What if you-"
You held your hand up in front of Eris' face, shushing him into silence, "If you're really about to suggest that I sit on your lap, I will kill you."
Cassian threw his head back and laughed, a howling one that filled you with pride as he walked to the driver side of his car, "Hate to break it to you Princess, but you don't have a choice."
"Why me?! Surely it makes more sense for Elain and Lucien to cuddle up?"
Elain ticked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, flinging the passenger door open, "It's my birthday so no, plus Lucien injured his knee at baseball practice so he needs to be able to stretch it out. Sorry, Y/N," Elain wiggled her eyebrows at you and dipped into the car, no doubt securing her spot in the middle seat.
Scowling, you turned to Eris who had never looked happier, fluttering your eyes in annoyance, you pointed at him, "Don't get any ideas, Vanserra."
Eris threw his hands up in mock surrender but the smirk didn't leave his lips as he spoke, "Wouldn't dream of it, y/l/n."
It took you a few moments to become settled in his lap, and you cursed yourself for allowing yourself to be friends with bright and shiny Elain, if you hadn't then you wouldn't be sat on some heirs lap, nestled on his thighs like some kind of trophy.
As soon as you were comfortable, you propped your feet on Elain's lap which she was happy to hold since you drew the short straw, and you leaned back onto the doorframe, half on the body of the interior and half on Eris.
His scent was earthy, wafts of pine and freshly blown out matches, you knew he smelled good, but you didn't realise how much.
Eris draped one of his arms over your legs and the other around your waist, and you couldn't exactly bark at him to fuck off when they were the only two places that his hands could go. His fingers delicately danged off of your thighs, his fingertips lightly brushing against your skin with every bump in the road, the coolness of his bracelet clashing against the warmth of your skin.
If only his fingers could go a little higher, and just grab the flesh of your thigh...
No, y/n.
Elain had convinced the car to play a game, a game that you and Eris had quickly denied, you were both quite happy with the silence. That is until you felt him frown and lean over slightly to peer at something, his fingers drifted along the hem of your skirt and he lifted it slightly to take a peek.
Your gaze found him, his russet eyes darkened with intrigue, "I didn't know you had a tattoo," he hummed, allowing his eyes to trace along the swirls of black ink that created an arrangement of delicately drawn roses and geometric shapes that encased your entire hip.
Cassian's car hit a bump and you jolted on Eris' lap, his arms instinctively wrapped around you to keep you in place as your head hit the roof of the car, "Sorry, y/n. These roads are awful," Cassian apologised, one hand on the wheel and the other gripping Nesta's jeaned thigh, rubbing soft circles into the fabric whilst she idly read her book in the front passenger seat.
If that were you, your soul would no doubt be going feral.
Then you felt it, you felt his had travel from your waist to your unbound hair, he ran his fingertips along your scalp and rested his palm on the top of your head, "Are you okay?"
It took you a moment to reply, trying to control the shivers that spread in your soul like wildfire at his touch in the place you had dreamt of, "Yeah, 'm good," your tone was relaxed as he worked his fingertips into the crown of your head, kissing away any pain from the jolting force that had pushed against it.
"Do you like that?" Eris purred, and luckily no one was paying attention to either of you, Nesta was reading, Cassian was driving, and Elain and Lucien were looking out of the window of the travelling car talking about whatever animals they saw in the clouds.
"It might feel nice," you admitted bashfully, knowing you couldn't lie to the sly fox whose eyes always found you no matter how far apart you were in a room.
Eris let out a low hum, tilting his head to the side as his fingers slid from your scalp and rested on the back of your neck, "You're a touch starved little thing, aren't you?"
"No," it came out a little harder than what you had intended it to, but he wasn't wrong, especially when he was the reason that you were so touch starved and basking in his affection.
Eris chuckled, seeing straight through you as always, as his hand ghosted down your spine whilst his other found your thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze, smirking as you wiggled on his lap, "Careful sweetheart, you have no idea how close I am to losing it," his voice was a rough whisper in your ear, he knew exactly what effect he had on you.
"I can't help it."
"I know, you have no idea the effect you have on me," his finger grazed down the earring that dangled against the curve of your jaw.
"Oh?"
Eris hummed, "One date, y/n. It's all I ask."
"Eris..."
His digits slipped between your thighs and he traced circles into the skin he found there, "Just one. Let me show you the life we can live together. Please?"
You weren't sure if it was his deep tone or his hands on your body that made your mind foggy, but he had convinced your head and heart to agree. Moving your head to meet his eye, you narrowed your own and pursed your lips, "Fine. One date. Make it worth my time, Vanserra."
Eris' whisky amber eyes glistened in the sunlight, "I think you forget how well I know you sweetheart. You're not a coffee date girl, or a movie date girl, you're not a hiker either. You're a dreamer, I see you all of the time looking at the stars, I see the heavens in your art, I see the sky in your eyes. I think I know the perfect way to make sure you never entertain anyone other than me."
The confidence he radiated made your thighs clench together, an act that didn't go unnoticed by him as his eyes darkened again with desire, he licked his lips, throwing his head back as you squirmed on his thighs again and did his best to suppress the moan bubbling in his throat.
"One chance, Vanserra. Make the most of it."
Eris straightened his posture and winked at you, letting his hands roam freely over your back and thighs, "One chance is all I need."
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Authors Note
Just a short little drabble - I did a 13 hour shift today and your girl is TIRED.
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eddiezpaghetti · 3 months
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It has come to my attention that SOME OF YOU who read my last Byler post remain UNCONVINCED. So I'm gonna tack onto it this:
I'm older than fucking God and air, and I've been out and proud since 2007. Yes, I know what homophobia is, and yes, I know what queerbaiting is. I know about Supernatural and Teen Wolf and Sherlock and blahdyblahdyblah. No new ground is being covered here. I thought I made that clear in the original post, but, clearly, I did not.
I am aware of queerbaiting and homophobia, and I'm still wholeheartedly certain in Byler being canon anyway.
Okay, so there are three types of relationship I want to discuss when it comes to queerbaiting. They're all, like, "queer relationships that could have happened, but didn't".
First off, queer-coding. This isn't really a thing so much anymore, but it still crops up every once in a while. I'd argue it probably happens most with male-male relationships in family shows these days. First example that comes to mind is Mr. Smiley and Mr. Frowny from Steven Universe. You can't make a relationship canon because some shitty overhead bastard overhead said no, so you get as close as you can without compromising the show. Can't make someone gay? Well, now their comedy routine is a blatant allegory for a romantic relationship. Boom-shaka-laka. This is something I don't see being a problem with regards to Stranger Things, but I want it to be there as contrast, a demonstration of one of many things queerbaiting is not. However, one could argue that, thus far, Will Byers is, canonically, queer-coded. It's pretty fucking heavily implied in the show, and the creators have confirmed it, and you're gonna be able to see it if you're not FUCKING BLIND, but word of god is not technically canon which means that interviews don't technically make something canon, blahdyblahdyblahdyblah, technicalities, Robin has been explicitly stated in the text to be queer while Will has, thus far, not, outside of good ol' Show-Don't-Tell. Of course, anyone with two brain cells to rub together can tell that that's going to change by the end of Season 5, but, hey, for what it's worth, I'm throwing this out there.
Alrighty, Thingamajingama Number Two: "Oops, I accidentally made the greatest love story known to man." AKA, a genuine, honest-to-goodness mistake. Unfortunately, we do live in a heteronormative society. Sometimes people who don't think about being gay much write a friendship that's incredibly compelling and don't even consider the possibility that it could have been read as romantic. Something something Top Gun something. This is, again, not queerbaiting. This is Steddie, this is Ronance, this is Elmax, this is your favorite flavor of non-canon ship this week, this is not Byler. The creators know DAMN well what they're doing. They've talked about it. We know this. Nothing new here.
Which brings us to the topic of discussion here. Actual queerbaiting. This usually starts out as an "accidental greatest love story", and then reacts to fan response. And when I say "reacts", I mean like a goddamn chemical reaction. Like bleach and ammonia, bitch. It's noxious and it's gonna kick your fucking ass without mercy. This is when a creator is like, "Hey, let's get our queer audience invested, but we're not actually going to give them what they want because our straight audience isn't here for that/we personally think it's gross/we don't give enough of a shit to want to research a goddamn thing to write a real gay character," blah blah blah whatever excuse they want to come up with this time.
And when you think "queerbaiting", I want you to think "bullying". Because that's what it is. It's lucrative bullying, like beating us up and taking our lunch money, but it's bullying all the same. And it's a real goddamn thing, even if people misuse the word a lot, often when they mean one of the two above, sometimes when they mean "bury your gays", which is another homophobic thing entirely that I'm not going to get into here. Queerbaiting is the thing we're focused on, and it's real, and it's bullying. And here's the reason I want you to think of it as bullying:
They
Think
It's
Funny.
They are actively making fun of us.
That's why Dean had the "Cas, get out of my ass," line in Supernatural. It's why the "Do you like boys?" line happened in Teen Wolf. It's why "Lie with me, Watson," happened in the RDJ Sherlock Holmes movies. Because "It's just a joke, mate." "It was just a prank, bro." "You didn't really think it would happen, did you?" "You should see your face."
So here's probably the biggest reason I don't think it's specifically queerbaiting in this specific instance of Will Byers and Mike Wheeler.
Stranger Things has never, not once, made a gay joke. Ever.
Every single time queerness comes up, it's dead serious.
Lonnie calls Will a fag, and the show is not at all reluctant to show what a goddamn horrible person he is. And when Hopper latches onto that, it's not as "Hahah, is he gay, though?" It's because he's trying to determine a potential motive for Will's disappearance, and even if someone had interpreted it as a joke, Joyce immediately has a line that functions as snapping her fingers in front of the audience's face and yelling "FOCUS" when she says "He's MISSING." Basically outright saying "This isn't funny!"
Troy calls him a fairy, along with targeting Lucas and Dustin for their skin color and disability respectively, and Mike gets damn near murderous. Troy is portrayed as a goddamn monster and the show portrays it as justice when El makes him piss his pants and later breaks his arm.
Steve calls Jonathan "queer" as a slur and gets the shit beat out of him for it.
Billy's father is revealed to be homophobic and abusive in the same breath.
Mike says "It's not my fault you don't like girls!" and we're shown how devastated Will is and Mike immediately follows him to beg for forgiveness.
There is a joke in Robin's coming-out scene, but it's not at Robin's expense. It's at Steve's. Specifically for being heteronormative.
Jonathan has multiple scenes where he's trying so hard to tell Will that he's always going to love him as he is, whether he's gay or not, without pressuring him to come out before he's ready.
Even when there's a little bit of ribbing at Robin's expense, it's always because she's an awkward nerd who's nervous around pretty girls, just the same as Lucas and Dustin are teased when they both first develop crushes on Max, and even then, even then, it always comes as a package deal where they make fun of Steve's girl problems at the same time.
Stranger Things is an emphatically pro-gay show. It may not be the core point of the show the way it is in, say, Our Flag Means Death, but there is nothing less than respect for its queer characters. Its queer characters are always taken completely seriously. No one is making fun of us. They never have. That's why I have serious doubts that this is queerbaiting. It would come completely out of left field for the bullying to start in Stranger Things' final season.
So it's not at all likely to be queerbaiting because queerness is taken completely seriously. The creators have talked about Will's queerness, at least, so it's not an accident. And queer-coding would be silly to expect from this show when it's already on its final season. Like, what is Netflix gonna do? Cancel it? Not to mention all the explicit queerness that's in there already. And no one's gonna "What about the children?" a show that's had sex scenes in it since the first season.
There's no fakeout here. It's gonna happen. Breathe.
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