#Pls give us michael back | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

seattlesellie · 5 months

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Jealous. 🎀

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

cw: mean dom!ellie sub!reader, jealous kinda toxic ellie, eating it through the panties, orgasm denial, spit play (literally spits down ur panties like), exhibitionism, some dude named michael.

an: pls be gentle, i haven’t written in a long time! 💗 credit to angel gbc for the mod used in the picture above <3

something we can all agree on is the importance of aftercare — right?

Ellie is big on that obviously, as she should. Caressing her slim fingers down your body, planting wanton kisses on your shoulders, running her palms across your shaky thighs, whispering words of encouragement in your ear;

“Did so good for me, babe”

“I love you, so much”

“Need anything? hm?” She’d murmur against your skin whilst cradling your body from behind.

And she always insists on cleaning you up. She consistently renders you nothing but an achy mess, dried up juices staining your wobbly jelly thighs, combined sweat on your breasts and ribs, back of your neck. The ritual of bringing a wet towel to bed, swiping it’s fabric across your inner thighs, your face, your behind — is a sacred one for her. Not solely because she loves hearing your sweet, exhausted sighs of relief as she cleans the soil away, but also not solely because she gets to see your naked body in all of its glory again.

It’s the act of taking care of what’s hers. In a way, when she wipes your cum away, she’s taking care of herself — too.

Here, lays a solid proof that she can break things apart and put them back together again. She’s not a total fucking fuckup.

The ability of making you scream and cry, then moments later have you whisper in that saccharine voice of yours an airy “love you s’much, Els…”

It’s fucking exhilarating.

She loves it every time, she does it every time.

But today… today you pissed her off. You poked the bear, for real this time.

There’s this new Michael guy in Jackson. He’s handsome, tall, has coal black curls that somehow stay soft and shiny even in this apocalyptic hellscape. He told Ellie and you where he was from, what he did, why he came. Ellie didn’t listen to a thing he was saying. It was like he turned into a fly and started loudly buzzing in her ear. He kept looking at you weird. Smiling at you, smirking, laughing at your jokes, even the ones that weren’t all that funny. She knows you have this affect on people, that damn charm, hell — you have this affect on her.

And she’s usually just playfully jealous, manages to keep it relatively tame and simple by tightening her grip on your waist.

But you just wouldn’t stop bringing him up. “Michael” this, and “Michael” that, “Michael invited us for dinner”, “Michael said this funny thing earlier”,

For all Ellie knows Michael could die in a ditch and she wouldn’t give a fuck.

You're on your way back home from the Tipsy Bison on a chilly Thursday night. Jesse was there, Dina, Maria... and Michael. She thinks of his name and it leaves a bitter taste in her mouth, tart, pungent.

"Meh, I'm more of a Tequila girl, Whiskey tastes like shit" you announced with a giggle. Michael rested his hand on your thigh, and agreed with a nod and a chuckle. For you, it meant nothing.

For Ellie, it meant everything.

Her blood pressure was usually low, steady, healthy as a bull. As of now, Ellie felt like she just ran a marathon. The blood rushed to her head and her brows furrowed without intention. She cracks her neck and moves it left and right, takes a long and burning sip out of her Whiskey and shuts her eyes. She repeats a mantra in her head; "I'm not angry, I'm not angry, It's fine."

But you're so damn intuitive.

"Els? y'tired?" you murmur towards your auburnette girlfriend. She suckles on her bottom lip and considers saying no, but she lies.

"Exhausted"

You leave the humble bar hand in hand, wrapped up in her big coat that smells of mint and wood and Ellie. She prays you won't mention his name, prays you could just go home and forget about this whole thing, but you do, innocently.

"Oh, Michael said one of the horses is sick, I'm thinking of helping out in the barn tomorrow an—"

She stops you mid sentence with a scoff and a tightening grip on your hand. "Oh, mhm, Michael said that?"

Her voice mocks your own a little.

You stop and shift your gaze towards Ellie who has her lips tucked in a tight line. Internally, she's cussing herself out. You don't deserve her anger, but she can't help herself. Your answer is an unsure hum. Her grip tightens even more, and it hurts your palm but you keep on walking side by side, quietly. Five minutes manage to pass with no words being muttered by no one. That's until she shakes her head and lets go of a husky chuckle.

"Did I do something?", you mutter doe eyed. Ellie stops in her tracks and inhales. She grabs you by your waist and walks towards you, making you have to clumsily pace backwards until your back meets a cold grey brick wall with a resounding thud. "Uhg!" You hiccup, breath catching down your throat. You even sweetly giggle, thinking in your head that this could possibly be just a sweet attack of PDA.

But her eyes are dark, gone from emerald to pine, pupils pitch black as big as a button. Her warm whiskey breath meets your nose and your top lip, you gulp. Why isn't she laughing? teasing?

"El?" your voice is still candied, always. Ellies mouth is agape, scarred eyebrows scrunched and furrowed as if she's confused, or pissed, or provoked. Her forehead meets yours so automatically, you attempt to connect your lips with a kiss but she backs away meanly. Albeit her taunting position, how intimidating and truly scary she looks whilst you're caged within her frame, your'e still smiling, you're still thinking she's just teasing.

You're not used to this, she knows, but god knows she yearns to teach you a lesson.

You don't fuck with what's hers.

She licks her bottom lip before she starts speaking.

"Take off your skirt"

Her voice nearly renders you drunk, It's huskiness, gruffness, it's depth, and really, you've only had one shot. Your cheeks heat up and your ears feel as if they're nearly burning. Her lips are so damn close to yours and she still won't let you kiss her.

"Wh... we're in public, we can't—" you stutter, eyes shifting downwards towards the knee she has shoved near your barely covered crotch. When she brings it upwards just to brush delicately on your inner thigh, you let go of a small gasp.

She responds to your gasp with a barely audible "Mhm?", her eyes sharpening with intent.

"Yes we can", she tsk's, and her voice taunts. Her eyes graze over your face, and you expect her next sentence to bite like the last one did, but her voice goes softer. "For me?", she cocks her head to the side.

And it simply pushes you over the edge.

You peel your skirt off of your body, asscheeks plastered over the brick wall as her body squeezes you further back, and you're left half naked with a piece of fabric scrunched below your knees, resting on your shoes. She eyes your body up and down, meeting your pleading and still confused eyes — and for a moment, thinks of just carrying you home and taking care of business once you get there. No jealousy, none of that.

But it's still bitter down her throat, and she can still picture his disgusting hand meeting your soft thigh, her soft thigh — as your body is hers, so that thought is ever so fleeting. It's either now or now.

Her cold as ice finger traces faint circles on your lower tummy, making the fine hairs of your body rise like soldiers. You whimper quietly as her finger snaps the elastic band of your panties and lets it smack down your pelvis. You rub your thighs together, but you're ever so pliant as she makes your legs spread wide with a boot covered foot opening up your calves like a gate.

She whispers in your ear. "Are you wet?", it makes you shiver.

"M'cold" you whine.

She scoffs.

She kneads your bra cup with her palm, squeezing an erect nipple with her thumb and middle finger. "Didn't ask that"

Her eyes meet your gaze and again she reconsiders this whole thing — because you truly look so needy, and your lips are so pouty and sweet and red with cold, you look as if you'd die if she didn't kiss you right now so how can she even be worried, let alone be jealous?

She knows how much you love her, how much you yearn for nobody but her, how her touch leaves you speechless time and time again.

But it's like something takes over, a dark figure, a figure that's thirsty and starving and wants to prove a thing it already knows.

It's an internal struggle, she doesn't want to be possessive,

She can't help it.

Your panties are striped with pink and white, and she looks at them as if they're the most expensive lace in the whole entire world. Her breathing gets heavier as she curls her fingers inside the cotton fabric, pupils darkening when she notices a sweet clear string of your arousal clinging from the entrance of your cunt to the bottom of your underwear.

She chuckles, followed by a sigh of relief that you notice. You are wet, right in the middle of the street where an innocent soul could catch you at any given moment. "Didn't answer cause you're shy?" She knows you so well. You bite your lip and nod, butterflies fighting in the pits of your stomach. A chaste kiss on the lips is all you get from her, and you deeply whine into the air. "At least kiss me!" you beg, — god, you're so cute when you're pissed.

Before landing on her knees, Ellie looks from side to side in order to check that there's truly nobody around, and no — not because she's scared to get caught, but because she'd die before she let someone see her girlfriend half naked with her skirt down her thighs.

Ellie is face to face with your quivering, pantie covered cunt. A wet patch greets her — a fuckin' pleasure, one she can't help but swipe her tongue across. Your choked up, terrified sound of a moan is a symphony to her hears, fuck Mozart. Her eager muscle of a tongue is so warm against your pussy you nearly forget it started snowing yesterday.

You buck your hips inwards, she groans. "No moving", she warns — simply to assert a dominance that has already been asserted. She kisses your little clit, coo's at the way it slightly pokes out of the fabric, erect and pumping on her tongue. "Ellie... Ellie... Ellie", you babble like a prayer, which she nods to. "S'my name, that's fuckin' right", she groans as her husky voice is muffled by your soaked panties.

"Ellie..." you repeat, thighs beginning to ache as you try and spread them further apart, almost sitting on her face.

Ellie, not Michael.

She smiles, greedy, triumphant.

She flicks her tongue on your clit, once, twice, three times before biting on your meaty pussy lips. You bite your knuckles in order to keep your voice down, but she glares up at you. "Do that again n'I swear to god I'm stopping" she growls.

You're not used to this side of her at all, but her voice makes your hole leak a small stream from deep inside. She feels it's wetness on her tongue, eyes closing in ecstasy as she audibly suckles your sweet, tangy, heavenly juices from the now sheer fabric. Her own spit runs down her chin, she doesn't even bother to wipe it off. All you can hear are your breathy, whiney moans, tiny begs of "take 'em off, please", regarding your panties, and Ellie's throaty groans. You're so wet from your own juices and her saliva it nearly gets uncomfortable, but then again you're so goddamn close to cumming.

You try taking matters to your own hands, attempting to peel off your panties from your waist with a shaky hand but she snarls and slaps your wrist away.

"Nuh uh, pussy's fuckin' mine, don't touch it"

With relentless sucking on your drenched clit, and soiled panties, she opens her eyes to merely glare at you again with a warning look. "When you're close, you let me know" she bites.

You don't respond.

A stinging slap meets your pussy, which makes your thighs shake, whole body jolt, and throat ache with a high pitched yelp.

"You're not listening" Ellie warns.

"You listen when I talk" she warns again. Her tongue meets your clit and it pushes it further and further up. You shake, eyesight gone blurry, you're close, you know it by the way the coil down your stomach threatens to snap, and by the way it tickles down there so damn bad.

"M'close" you brokenly wail.

She grunts deeply and stops completely. your heart nearly breaks, no no no no no. "Ellie, Ellie, Els, no!" You try and buck your hips forward but she holds you in place with an iron like grip. You buck them again and she peels off the fabric of your underwear, slightly rising up as she stares inside at the mess she made of you. There's a devilish smirk that creeps up from her lips, apple of one cheek rising. You let out a sigh of relief, thinking that perhaps she'll actually fucking eat you out properly instead of letting you suffer inside a warm, wet material of a mess that truly doesn't look like something wearable anymore. Instead, she audibly spits inside with a "Ptu'", letting the band snap shut. Her saliva mixes with your warm sleek. You're so confused she nearly feels bad, but she's such a cunt that she really doesn't.

"Were going back inside," she murmurs so casually as if she didn't just fuck you up in the middle of the street, as if her chin isn't shiny with your precum. "N'if Michael puts his hand on you again, I'm eating it in front of him"

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams x you

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sl4sh3rsub · 9 months

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rz michael myers hcs (nsfw: mdni)

rz michael myers x reader (AFAB, AMAB, FtM, MtF)

warning: a lot here. mikey has a monster cock, insecure + inexperienced michael, he doesn't talk but makes noise + mouths words + grunts syllables sometimes (selectively mute ig?), oral sex (both giving and receiving), excessive creampies, fingering (receiving), no lube we die like men his dick n spit does it for him, masturbation, rimming (both giving and receiving), knife kink, excessive mentions of precum + spit + cum, creative use of cum/arousal fluids in arts projects, musk kink, choking (receiving), mentions of sex toys, thigh humping, mention of canon SA and violence (nothing w/ or directly involving reader), p in v + anal (all unprotected - pls stay safe irl), cum eating, slight somnophilia, bruises and hickeys, cockwarming, slight worship (receiving), dry humping, handjobs, 2 mentions of him having a mini shrine to you, mentions of needle hrt in ftm + mtf bits (feel free to ignore), mentions of the institute/asylum

a/n: sorta edited. tried not to be too ooc, but it's more focused on a softer side of michael - personally i think his character is very different to og/peepaw myers! rz mikey is more based in instinct rather than previous experiences/societal expectations, so there's more general hcs than separate sections this time. NOTE: feel free to read any sections, tried my best to not use gendered terms in agab sections but lmk how i can improve :3

order: general hcs first then amab + afab then ftm + mtf, different sections = different content n tried not to repeat much

_ _ _ _ _

general hcs

as michael is very inexperienced with kissing, he'll smash his lips against yours and become a huffing mess after he gets worked up from your breath mingling with his and your darkening gazes meeting

if you play with his hair and gaze into his eyes, he can't help it if he gets half-hard - his body will always needily react to your attention and affection

he's most at home in grey sweatpants - he's very used to wearing them while making his masks and associates them with comfort and the years of creatively honing his craft

so naturally, don't be surprised when his already impressive girth pulses and thickens at the sight of you bending over or reaching something off a high shelf

mikey will absolutely make you your own special mask!! although, the glue he uses for your personal paper mâché mix is a bit more,, personal. he'll also use your arousal to paint the inner layer of his favourite mask :( he simply needs to have some semblance of you with him at all times, especially whenever he's out on the town and away from your embrace

he's borderline hypersexual and gets half-hard and extremely sensitive without reason, however he doesn't always feel the need to act on his urges with you. expect him hiding his arousal during mundane activities, getting flushed and shy when he realises that you notice :<

if he's comfortable on the couch, he'll make himself at home with a horrendous manspread. naturally, this leads to him getting flustered whenever you kneel in between his legs with a mischievous glint in your eye. if you ask him sweetly, he'll be more than happy to sit you in between his strong thighs and let you hump into his hand while you both watch a movie

if he's not feeling like he wants to be inside you, he'll lie on his back with his knees up, pulling you to straddle his waist and lean back against his thighs. from this angle, he's able to watch you play with yourself and masturbate above him while feeling your weight grounding him, just out of reach but almost close enough to taste

he loves taking you from behind and kissing the base of your neck, your breathless giggles echoing in his ears as his long hair tickles your shoulders and back

michael loves having you cockwarm him while he makes his masks!! he adores it when you doze off with your cheek smushed into his shoulder during a late night arts-and-crafts session, the slow pulse of his heartbeat deep inside you

he's so, so incredibly thankful for you, that he's able to unleash his frustrations into you, whether it be about a ripped mask or just about pentup emotions. he's eternally thankful for your love and under the table support

you are mikey's angel, his true saving grace. after his long bout at the institute, he was fully convinced that being loved by anyone was impossible for him. your welcoming arms and gentle praise proved him wrong and completely changed his image of heaven - to michael, it's no longer a cloudy sky mentioned in those old books, it's your warm embrace and loving gaze. it just took him a little while to realise that he was in his own little paradise with you

he tries his hardest to treat you with absolute reverence and adoration T-T he's devoted to making you feel good with him, no matter what. usually, this means holding back from skullfucking you at a brutal pace whenever you give him head. your throat is just so tight around him :( it's got him steadying himself against a wall with his hand, shaking and sweating from holding back, with his gorgeous, garbled moans encouraging you to swallow the saltiness of his length

mikey's wandering hands always end up on your ass or tummy whenever you cuddle together, it's just comforting for him

he's one of the strongest, largest men to ever walk the earth, but the way he gently traces your facial features makes you forget that completely. michael handles you like you're made of porcelain, only using soft pressure unless you assure him he won't break you easily

he has a big, strong and beefy body. lord knows how he maintained it in the institute but with you, he's gonna try his damnedest to put all of his strength to good use - whether it be getting you off while fingering you, his toned forearms barely breaking a sweat or his tree trunk thighs tensing while you ride them

mikey is not trimmed or well-groomed downstairs, his pubes are a wild and unkempt cloud of blonde and light grey hair, so you know he's not caring about how you look at all. you're a fuckin deity in his eyes and he'll dispose of anyone who makes you feel anything other than heavenly

michael is uncut, big and thick, with a large vein running up the underside - so heavy and large that it can't even stand up against his belly, instead slightly bobbing with his pulse and hanging low. it's the type you see in lewd magazines, where it tilts down even when fully hard

when you're on your knees for him, expect his weepy cockhead to drip onto your face while you kiss and nip at his heavy, full balls

oh yeah, this man has the definition of breeder balls; hanging low, swollen and filled to the brim with his potent cum. he truly has so much to give, so you'd better be ready for multiple loads throughout the night

in contrast to michael's hard cock, his nipples are soft and incredibly sensitive. if he's trying to cum as fast as possible, he'll sneak a hand up his shirt and pinch at them relentlessly - make sure they're puffy and spit-glazed after you've been ontop, he goes absolutely feral would really appreciate it

mikey has massive hands too - his fingers are enough to fill you considerably, but he often resorts to stuffing your mouth with them or using his palm to muffle your noises if you're being vocal. he definitely doesn't want the cops called on you just because he's great at pleasuring you

his cock feels heavy inside you, almost like he's deep in your chest whenever he bottoms out. the weight is absolutely dizzying as it stretches you out each thrust and rubs all of the right places. he easily gets drunk on the feeling of you clenching around him, leading to his head being tossed back with drool dribbling down his chin at the sensation

he has the biggest size kink possible but he really doesn't want to get carried away when exerting his strength and size on you - he doesn't want to get carried away or hurt you too badly :(

michael uses whatever knife he can get his hands on during foreplay to add a bit of risk and edge. cutting off your underwear and shirt, tracing down thighs and hips and gently nicking your skin every once in a while, but he quickly tosses it if you beg him to fuck you desperately enough - he doesn't wanna hurt you that bad, not before he's even gotten started

mikey is incredibly insecure about himself and his own worth as a person. he fears your love is only temporary and that you'll move on, leaving him behind as a memory or an adrenaline rush of foolish regret :( for that reason, he's terrified to go too hard or hurt you badly - he's convinced you'll be in pain and be fearful of him if he fucks up. be sure to reassure him when you're together after you have a rougher time and he's manhandling you more <3

initially when he learnt about dry humping, he was confused as to why he craved the friction so desperately but he's learnt to give in - michael will almost immediately cum in his pants if you quietly reassure him you'll clean up the mess you're both bound to leave on his clothes. half the fun (in his eyes, at least) is seeing you get flustered over the sheer amount of his load that's seeping into his boxers from just that little bit of friction

his favourite place to have you is on his lap - cockwarming, cuddling or napping, he does not care. he needs to have your face pressed into his neck with his larger frame providing you with warmth and stability

will rarely fist his cock but if you ever catch him, you might be able to make out his lips repeating the shape of your name over and over

for a long while at the start of your.. arrangement, he had no idea how to initiate sex. he'd just hover close to you, desperately hoping you'd notice the heat radiating from his massive, obvious bulge. would start to bite the inside of his cheek and guide your body towards him in a desperate hint if you didn't clock it immediately

he also did not know shit about the human anatomy, so he'll need you to guide him to where you want to be touched and with a bit of coaching, he'll learn the correct pressure and pace to get you off easily

if you tease him while he's in his overalls, the sight of his lower region slowly darkening with his endless pre and the sound of his haggard breathing devolving into animalistic grunts is nearly enough to make your knees give out

michael isn't a massive fan of fucking you on your bed, especially if your room is in a similar layout to his back at the institute. haunting memories brought on by the guards cast negative clouds across his mind and that is the last thing he wants with you. he'd much prefer to go at it against a wall, the couch or even the floor. most of the time, around his desk is where the action happens and your bed is solely reserved for sleep <3

he loves smearing his precum all over your face, loves letting his musk seep into your skin while your eyes glaze over with lust

he cups your chin, cheek and jaw whenever you have his full attention and his heart melts when you nuzzle into him - his thumb plays with your bottom lip and if you decide to suck on it to keep your mouth occupied, so expect to have mikey silently begging you to cockwarm him while his brain goes fuzzy

while you relax for the evening, watching a movie together, expect him to position you with your head on his thigh (your face way to close to his crotch ofc)

michael loves you sucking on his soft cock and warming him with your mouth, he adores the slow feeling of him growing hard as you moan and gag around his length

when you introduce him to the concept of the sixty-nine position, he absolutely short-circuits. what do you mean you can both suffocate in each other's musk while getting each other off?? what do you mean he can prop himself up above you so he can spend time teasing you while forcing you to choke on his length???

michael always cums a bit too quickly and a bit too much - the moment he enters you for the first time, he can't help but fill you up immediately (good thing he's blessed with inhuman stamina)

he's also the biggest fan of you offering to clean up the mess of his cum dripping down his shaft - if your ass is a bit tender and sore from his rough pace, he's more than happy to soften in your mouth while the two of you catch your breath and wind down

mikey isn't very confident with toys and would much rather pleasure you by himself, but he wouldn't mind learning slowly what you prefer over time

he's also not a fan of lube - it feels too cold on his skin and the slippery nature of it scares him a little, so the best way to get him all coated in pre (for your comfort ofc) is to rim him. his tip drools and spits out so much of his arousal whenever you fuck him with your tongue, rest assured it'll bubble down his shaft and drip onto your chest. the delicious flush of his neck and upper chest is a glorious sight to behold

he first feels the urge to make love to you slowly after he sees a steamy, romantic sex scene with a married couple on television - he wants to give you the warmth and care the actors portray on screen

when you first offered to give him head, he tentatively slapped his cock against your tongue to test waters and see if you liked the taste but ended up addicted to the feeling. he'll smack it against your lips and tongue every time you're on your knees for him

his heavy balls slapping against your chin while he floods your mouth with salty, thick warmth is one of his favourite sounds

he starts breathily whimpering in his gravelly voice whenever he fully bottoms out in your heat, one of the rare moments when he totally loses control over his lust for you

he grunts out the syllables of your name when he's about to cum, digging his fingers into your hips and nipping your neck, leaving deep marks on your skin

mikey gets the same rush whenever you both cum together as to when he stabs someone and kills them after a long game of cat and mouse - there's a reason why the french call it 'petit mortis', a little death

the first time the two of you had sex, it brought out such intense emotions from michael that he was left shaken, crying from confusion about the onslaught of feelings he just shared with you. he is originally torn between holding you close and never letting you go as well as instantly leaving and isolating himself in his own space - like he's used to. he needs time to fully mull over the situation and new sensations he experienced but he would really like to have you nearby incase he needs a hug :(

on a long day, after you've given him head, he'll softly catch his breath while watching you blissfully hum and rest your cheek against his thigh. he huffs a small chuckle as you press light kisses into his softening cock

myers really doesn't want to hurt your ass or bruise your upper thighs too much as he needs to have you perched on his lap whenever he can, but you can expect tender skin from his hips slapping into you as well as bruises from his grip on your waist and hips

if he was too rough with you the night before (maybe accidentally leaving bone-deep bruises or purple marks and scratches along your body), he'll disappear early next morning and return during breakfast with a fistful of fresh tulips as an apology, with their stems partially crushed. just be sure to rinse off the dirt still attached to the roots, it's the thought that counts :<

michael may be inexperienced and bashful but he'll try anything once if it gets you off and brings you pleasure

michael loves to place his hand around your throat, just as a reminder of his sheer strength and power over you. with the slightest amount of pressure, he could make your brain go dumb and your tongue loll out

he chokes you until your eyes become unfocused, your little gasps and whines becoming softer and softer. the proud glint in michael's eyes is deserved, as you fully trusted him with your life while you were in your most vulnerable position. he holds you close while you unsteadily catch your breath, mumbling about how good you are to him and stroking your hair all the while

if you're too shy to look up at him while he fucks you or gives you head, he'll tilt your chin up and groan when your cheeks flush at his blown out pupils

he's the type to not pull out after, needing to soften and catch his breath while still feeling connected, inadvertently overstimulating you without fail as his whole body is racked with aftershocks

if he's feeling mean, michael will make you hump his thigh while he palms at his dick during one of his arts and crafts sessions

he wipes the last dribbles of his cum on your inner thighs after he pulls out. he'll clean it either way - with a damp towel or his tongue, it's up to you <3

occasionally after a spree, he'll need to let his mind rest and will use you as his cute little fleshlight, burying himself deep inside you while guiding your hips along with his rhythm at a bruising pace. if you pay close attention, you'll see his lips forming silent prayers and whispers of apology whenever you yelp from the pace

his post-kill musk is potent enough to make your head spin. if you rest your cheek against his pectoral, you'll be able to feel his heartbeat start to slow against you :<

his guilty pleasure is pulling out while cumming thick spurts, slapping his tip across your skin while smearing his load all over you, be it your lips and cheeks or ass and thighs

michael doesn't want to disturb your sleep if he's needy, so he'll slip your hand in between his boxers and pajama pants to feel your smaller hand against his throbbing bulge. he's content to doze like that but expect to feel him humping into your fist while he sleeps. you may wake to the sound of sheets rustling as he licks up the mess he made, much too tired to change sheets but not wanting it to dry and soil your sheets

he insists on placing his hand firmly on the back of your neck whenever he takes you from behind - to stop you from fucking yourself back on his cock and squirming at his pace

after sex with mikey, it's a common occurrence for you both to be a panting mess on the floor when he's done, your throat sore from mindless babbling and loud moans - all complete with a wet, drool-covered spot on your shirt from his grunts through gritted, gnashed teeth. when he's floated back into the right headspace, he's absolutely mortified by his behaviour and is tentative to even glance at you in a less than innocent way for the next couple hours

if your soft body goes limp in his arms after a mind-blowing orgasm, he gets scared at first and stops his thrusts. he's worrying he hurt you but, once he realises you're alright, he'll support your head and neck and go completely feral, thrusting and grinding until he reaches his high as well

whenever you fall asleep ontop of him, he needs to have your face tucked into the crook of his neck - the scent of your hair and sex in the air lulls him to sleep quicker than any sedative could

he adores your attention while you both bask in your respective afterglows - your hands gently cradling his face while he tucks himself away is one of his favourite, most soothing actions of yours. he'll always rub circles into your skin in return

_ _ _ _ _

amab hcs

michael is inexperienced and completely driven by instinct when it comes to giving head - he wouldn't be deep-throating, instead focusing on your tip and licking along your veins. he's a master of giving handjobs, with the amount of spit he shamelessly coats you with (not to mention his rougher hands)

if he's particularly needy, he'll come up behind you and gently undo your belt while tracing his fingers over your zipper, nosing at your jaw and softly rutting into your ass while panting above you

the moment your fly is undone, his breathing gets ragged and drool nearly starts dripping down his chin

cages you against a bench or wall to rut against your ass and breathe in your scent after a long day at work

if you introduce him to rimming,, lord save your soul. his scruff rubs your ass raw with how often he goes to town on your tight, puckered hole. his favourite bit is pulling back and admiring how you glint in the light with his spit shining all over

of course, the extra spit only helps his efforts of bullying his throbbing cock into your poor hole

whenever michael is close to the edge while buried deep in you, he starts uncontrollably twitching and bumping your prostate, causing you to let out a pitchy whine at the unexpected feeling. every time without a doubt, his eyes roll back and growls into your ear at you clenching around him

he has a small photo shrine of your cocks together, a mess of cum and spit framed for his appreciation (he's a romantic)

his dirty fantasy is getting your attention while you're on the phone in bed by mouthing and groping at your cock, working you through the fabric of your pants

michael is obsessed with rutting his cock against yours, covering each other in your arousals, cum spurting up onto your chests as you nip and kiss at each other's chest and throat

_ _ _ _ _

afab hcs

mikey loses his mind a little each time you cream on his shaft, feeling your arousal dripping down to his balls and coating the insides of his thighs. just the thought of your slick coating him is enough to make his eyes roll back

he rips or cuts your underwear off you if he's too impatient to wait for you to fully undress

once michael is fully stuffed inside you, he gently traces where you meet, in awe of how he manages to fit in your heat

his large hands span over the bulge of his cock in your tummy, making you tear up at the pressure and drip onto the sheets

leans his head closer to your ear just to make sure you hear his groans and grunts while he destroys your pussy

his favourite sight is his pearly globs of cum oozing out of your puffy, soaked hole - made complete by the fucked out glaze in your eyes as you stare at the blurry spectre of a giant between your thighs

he tentatively gropes your thighs and enjoys warming his hands by sticking them up your shirt. if you both happen to make an appearance in public, expect him to crowd around you to try and shield you form from wandering eyes - he may be yours but you're also his, so no one has a right to touch or even look at your precious body (especially not your soft tits or ass, they're for him only)

teach him to tie his hair in a messy bun or acquire a hairband for him to keep his hair from getting sticky whenever he does down on you, slurping and worshipping your pussy like it's his god-given purpose on this earth

once he tries taking you in a mating press, he accidentally discovers heaven. he can fully dwarf you in his shadow and also cradle your pretty face while erratically thrusting and groaning in that raspy voice you love. if he fucks you dumb, he's more than happy to wipe away your tears

sometimes michael hesitates pushing into you for fear of it hurting too much, unintentionally resulting in him working you up by teasing your entrance with his thick cockhead then nudging your clit, fully soaking his length in your arousal

_ _ _ _ _

ftm hcs

mikey initially gets scared if you administer hrt yourself with a needle - he knows what happens to rowdy patients who get the needle back at the asylum. however, as he slowly notices physical changes in your body, he'll marvel at your form developing before his very eyes

michael's sadistic side comes out when he spanks your cock until your sloppy boycunt is drooling onto the mattress. he makes sure to gently slip his finger in your hole every so often, his delight in your whines is very evident when you can feel him throbbing under you

his strong forearms easily hold down your hips to stop them from rutting into his mouth whenever he sucks you off, making you shiver with every thrust of his tongue. his dick is neglected while he goes to town, not that mikey minds at all. he knows he'll be able to go balls deep after you've cum at least once to loosen up for him

due to his strength, he'll keep you still even while you become overstimulated, the pleasure bordering on pain but he's too far gone to care - this man becomes so pussydrunk that he can barely process that he's stained all of the material in your immediate vicinity with your arousal; your pants, his shirt, the carpet and not to mention the couch or bedsheets from his erratic wiping of his fingers when they get too slippery

loves to have you bouncing on his cock - grabbing your hips until they're bruised to control the pace and depth, pushing you to take all of him inside

sometimes if you look extra delectable while attempting to reach something off of a high shelf, michael may not be able to control himself and his craving for your taste - he will bend you over with no hesitation and make out with your cunt, nose glistening in your folds as his chapped lips graze against your tdick and his chin dripping with your pre. his massive hands groping your ass as he spreads your legs for better access

the rhythmic clapping of his heavy balls slapping your sopping cock is forever engrained in his mind, sometimes resurfacing at the most inconvenient times - he will be forced to rush home in the middle of an attempted spree just to feel your body against his

_ _ _ _ _

mtf hcs

michael chases the sensation of having you pressed up against him while you're wearing clothing he's gotten you

he loves you feeling pretty whenever you're on top, tucking your hair behind your ear and using his thumb to swipe his cum off your chin

he will make you do your makeup before you fuck, needing you to feel as beautiful as possible while he absolutely destroys your hole - lipgloss smeared, mascara running, hair mussed and bruises all over your hips. he views you as a goddess, so expect him to make you feel like one

when you guide him to take your balls in his mouth, he'll eagerly suckle on them then return to your tip for his reward, eager to lap up your arousal with obscene slurping noises and proud huffs of satisfaction

he has a small shrine of your panties he's borrowed, keeping the ones with the dainty floral details for 'creative inspiration'

mikey gently squeezes on the back of your neck when preparing to take you from behind - he cannot simply cum from you squirming in impatience and grinding into him, he's not even inside you yet (it would be a waste quite frankly)

as his stubble rubs you raw whenever he eats you out, prepare for the bubbling heat beneath your skin to return tenfold whenever he fucks your thighs like a madman

_ _ _ _ _

sorry if writing quality dropped, this took so long lmao. art the clown is next btw, look out for that.

thanks for reading. lmk if you liked it. if i got anything wrong, don't hesitate to tell me.

stay safe.

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doki-doki-imagines · 2 months

Note

PLS PLS CAN YOU DO THAT CHAT THING WITH KAISER, NESS, SAE AND NAGI WHERE READER TEXTS THEM SAYING “your face is so pretty I just wanna sit on it” AND THEIR REACTIONS😍😍

author note: Idk how to use fake sms app so I went for an ol' classic gif reaction.

Michael Kaiser:

-What is he looking at? At his reflex on the mirror obviously. -A laughter starts to blossom from his chest, already pushed out like a proud rooster. -He slicks his hair back, blue eyes shining with joy. Michael licks his teeth, perfect as he is. Damn, anybody would like to sit on his face; he is so fucking handsome. -He picks his phone up ready to message you something along the lines of "C'mere. I'll give you the ride of your life." Michael smirks, proud of coming up with such a hot line(it isn't). -But the message you sent got deleted. -His eyes bulge out almost cartoon style. Did he dream about it? Was the message from someone else? Michael checks the other chats, but nobody messaged him. -He doesn't want to message you about that, he isn't desperate! But a voice in the back of Michael's mind screams at him. -"?" He sends back. "Did you need something?" "No, Michael. Thanks for worrying." You reply immediately. -His heart picks a worryingly fast beat. You replied way too fast. A lightbulb turn on in his head, but the idea he comes up with is pretty risky. Michael feels blood running to his ears when he finally presses send. -"If you are free wanna come over? I need help choosing the new bed covers."

Alexis Ness:

-He is mind-numbing happy. After all, it is a pretty nice compliment to read from his crush. -If Alexis had a tail it would be wagging left and right now. A dumb smile is plastered on his face while he keeps looking at his phone. -"What are you looking at, Ness?" It's Michael's voice calling him back to work, mildly annoyed that the other boy's attention wasn't fully on him. "Oh- It's nothing, Kaiser! Let's go back to training." Alexis hides his cell phone under the last layer of his gym bag. Michael doesn't dig further for once. -When Alexis opens his phone back the sun already left his place for the moon. He obviously forgot about your message 'till he reads the new ones. "Have I crossed any boundary, Alexis? I'm sorry if it happened." "Please I don't want our friendship to be ruined by this." His heart sunk to his ass and climbed back into his throat in a matter of seconds. -Alexis calls you, clearly worried. You pick up fast for Alexis' heart health. "I'm so sorry I didn't reply sooner! I had practice and I had to go then-" he keeps blabbering "I'll do anything for your forgiveness." "…Anything Alexis?" "Yes." "I wasn't joking when I sent you that message…my or your place?" "Yours. It will be my pleasure." He says, voice finally calm. -He wasn't joking.

Sae Itoshi:

-"I must have forgotten the part where I asked your opinion." -HE IS RUDE. -Sae knows it is a joke. A stupid one to try to tease him. He may not be the brightest mind, but he understands what you are trying to do. -He goes back to training like nothing happened. Then he showers and all of sudden Sae has the urge to add another line to the previous message he sent. -Meanwhile, you replied with a ton of sad emojis and other dumb blabbering Sae's mind doesn't even register. -"Anyway I prefer to eat it from the back." Sae smiles thinking he has just sent the king of the comebacks, an earth-shattering line. Soon he gets a reply, that makes his smile drop. "I must have forgotten the part where I asked about your opinion." -Maybe you are really made for each other.

Seishiro Nagi:

-What a nice message to receive. Not. -You are hundreds of kilometres of distance what is supposed to happen? Honestly thinking is tiring him out. -Seishiri sends you the thumb-up emoji and throws his phone somewhere on his bed, pc already turned on to play the newest game. -But now a worm dug a hole in his head, making Seishiro thinks about the message and not at his ranking flopping; such a noob behavior. -He thinks about your soft thighs pressing his ears, your warmth enveloping his face… -Seishiro facepalms, fingers messaging his temples before brushing away some of his snow white hair strands away from his forehead. -He doesn't even notice he already dialed your number. -"Talk dirty." "What? Muddy pants? Sweaty shirts?" "Don't play dumb. It's all your fault if I can't concentrate now. And don't let me explain, it's bothersome." You chuckle at the other end. He can feel the mirth in your voice. "Sorry angel. You'll have to work if you want the prize." -He groans in annoyance, head thrown back. -It seems like Seishiro will have to break his "5 days doing nothing useful" streak.

#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk headcanons #blue lock headcanons #bllk imagines #blue lock imagines #michael kaiser #michael kaiser x reader #alexis ness #alexis ness x reader #sae itoshi #sae itoshi x reader #sae x reader #nagi seishiro #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi x reader

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sameschmidtdiffname · 2 months

Text

Slip

Mike Schmidt x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: At some point or another, the words slip out. It's just that, naturally, you're an idiot who can't pick the right moment.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific pronouns for reader, night terrors, disassociation, attempted comfort, miscommunication, brief non sexual shower scene, unintentional harm, anxiety, sweet ending. (fr this time, I'm not pulling a 'Repentance.') Slight spoilers for 'Petals On The Wind' by V.C. Andrews.

Notes: I had a vision and I tried. Pls give me mercy.

▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎

The night air is sweet, fresh with the smell of citrus from the soap I had used earlier that evening in my shower mixed with the damp smell of the dew forming on the grass and the leaves outside. The curtains shift slightly as the air spills into the dark room, the only light born by a small lamp clipped to the cover of my book as I read quietly.

Beside me lays Mike, facing the ceiling and looking as peaceful as he ever could. It was a relaxation that doesn't come to him in consciousness, too busy with thoughts I sometimes am not privy too. But I don't pry. I've heard most of the story from him and from Abby, and he is allowed to grieve the past alone. He knows I am always available to help him.

It had been a long day for him. He didn't need to tell me, it was obvious by the way he'd sat at the kitchen table, thinking he was alone and hands buried in his hair. I hadn't meant to spy on him, having just slipped out of my shower. He wasn't crying, but his face was pale and dreadful. The bags under his eyes a dark purple that they hadn't been earlier at dinner, and the haunted quality of his stare had increased in an alarming manner since I'd left him. Had he moved since dinner? Abby was in her room, her voice trailing quietly down the hall as she hummed to herself behind the closed door. The overhead yellow light directly above Michael made him look like a painting of doom, covered in shadows with sharp edges as dark as his thoughts.

When I guided him to bed he wouldn't talk to me. Not when I removed his shirt to change him into something clean. Not when I opened the bottle of pills he'd been able to relax on for the past couple weeks. And not when I held a glass of water to his lips, his mouth only moving to take a long drink before I guided him onto his back, where he stared at the ceiling quietly while I stroked his hair, watching him carefully until he drifted away into a drugged dream of obliviousness where hopefully he could find the peace he needed.

More often than not I read before bed. Usually Mike would lay his head on my chest, his eyes reading the same bits I would and commenting on something here or there, once in a while spoiling the next paragraph for me. But I never minded when he did, it was always an accident.

It did get to the point where Mike imposed a limit of two chapters a night, knowing I could become so enraptured in a story I wouldn't even pay attention to the world around me until I finished it, usually with the early light beginning to peak through the branches outside and create dancing rays of sun along our bed. It wasn't really a rule, more so a concerned request. There was no punishment if I didn't comply, if I deprived myself of sleep reading all that would exist as a reprimand is my own exhaustion. Mike would always silently pick up on this, more gentle with me and luring me away from my nightly ritual with his arms wrapped around my tired body, fingers combing through my hair and his even breathing coaxing me into the sleep I needed until his alarm would wake us, still wrapped around each other and warm in the morning glow of a new day with a new chapter. And recently I realized it was something about him I loved. Though I dare not say it out loud. Not yet.

I'm only a handful chapters into this book. It's one that I've read before, an ironic favorite from when I was younger and snuck books home that I'd borrowed from the woman next door after playing with her granddaughters. The subject of the novel was taboo, Gothic horror I would hide under my bed away from my mother's eyes until she would lay in her own bed, allowing me to click on a light and read until school the next morning. It's been years since I've revisited it, and this copy I had bought at a local thrift store for only a quarter with an excited smile, causing an amused look on Mike's face as he'd watched me.

"Shouldn't you read something you already own?" He'd teased while we walked out of the store hand in hand, Abby leading the way to our car.

I'd rolled my eyes, smiling as I checked for cars coming through the parking lot with no regard for little girls.

"Am I not allowed to spend a quarter on my passions?" I said.

"You absolutely are. I'm just wondering how you're going to read everything," he said with a small squeeze of his hand.

The answer is by drinking a cup of tea and working through the book in one sitting as he lays next to me, no work ahead of me for the next two days that would demand proper rest. No limitation able to stop me now. I'm a few hours into my plan when I notice his leg jolt beside mine, no movement otherwise.

I glance at him quickly, seeing if he's woken with a start. His eyes remain closed, lips parted slightly in sleep and otherwise seeming fine. So I resume my book, flipping to the next page to start chapter eleven.

Halfway through chapter thirteen, Mike gasps. Loud and quick, causing a cough to escape him. I slip a finger inbetween my pages, turning to face him and worry stabbing my chest as I wait for him to choke and thrash frantically. But he doesn't. He remains still, his pulse visible near his adams apple as his breath quickens slightly. I watch him, waiting for any signs of distress. But he remains still in sleep, and reluctantly I return to my book once more, having decided it was just a dream.

Finally, at the early hour of four o'clock his hand reaches out, nails digging into my thigh desperately in a way that's painful against my bare skin, raking down and surely creating a trail of blood in his wake as a short, startled yell of Abby's name pierces the air, his body going ridged. And then he's still, body shaking and eyes wide open in confusion, darting around the room as though he cannot place his environment in his still drugged state.

"Hey," I say softly, abandoning my book and turning to face him, unsure if I should touch him or what I need to say to tear him away from the horrors of his mind. "You're okay, you're awake now."

If he hears me he doesn't give any indication, his breathing so quick and unsteady I'm scared he'll knock himself out from hyperventilating.

"It's okay, it was a dream," I tell him. I place my hand apprehensively on his chest, feeling his heart slam against the cage of ribs below my touch. "You're awake now."

His head turns slightly towards me, but he's still panicking, his hand gripping my thigh hard enough hard with nails he hadn't meant to let grow out for the past couple weeks that I have to make a conscious effort to not whine in pain.

He's saying something, quiet and mixing with his irregular breathing as his other hand grabs my hand upon his chest, pressing it tightly against him. But I can't make it out, I can only hear fragments of 'sorry' and 'take.' And the words only blur more as he starts sobbing beside me, the noises he makes terrifying as he struggles for air.

"Let's sit up. Come on, let's sit up," I say. I'm close to panic myself, trying to find his shoulders to pull him up in fear of him choking in such a state. But his hand is too tight around mine, and trying to take it away seems to only cause further distress, his teeth gritting and nostrils flailing as he tries to breathe in as much air as possible. I manage to get one arm under his shoulders, wrapping it around his body and pulling us both up. The shift of his body seems to make something click, his hand suddenly releasing my thigh as he gasps once more, eyes seeming to show recognition of something.

"You're home. We're in our room, Abby is down the hall," I tell him.

"They'll come here, they knew where we live," he says in a rapid but finally coherent voice.

"Who?" I ask. He's scaring me, making me want to join him in my own hysteria. But I don't show it, the pain throbbing in my leg giving me a point of focus to keep my voice even. "No one's coming."

"My aunt- she- they-"

"She's not coming over, no one's coming to take Abby," I tell him, stroking him arm and trying to shift my body to face his. "Everyone's home and safe. I won't let anyone go."

This seems to hit him, his shoulders relaxing slightly. He looks at my face, staring and trying to focus on me.

"I won't let anyone go anywhere," I repeat gently. His shoulders relax, his body leaning towards mine.

"You don't have to worry," I tell him. "I'm here."

His head lands on my shoulder, hand still pressing mine tight against his chest as his arm finds my waist, body wracking with sobs.

"It's okay. Slow your breathing," I say softly, my hand finding his hair and holding him close against me. "Focus on me and slow your breathing."

He's trying, I can tell by the way he gasps against my chest in even tempo that he's trying to regain his breath. His skin is hot against mine, body wet with sweat. Maybe I should get this shirt off of him, take away the sticking cotton and allow his skin to feel the cool morning air against it to prevent overstimulation. Or maybe the sudden change would throw him into more distress. I don't know what to do, what to offer.

"Do you want me to distract you?" I ask. At this he lifts his head slightly, a small 'what?' Asking for me to repeat the question. "Do you want me to distract you?" I repeat, anxious I've said something wrong.

He seems to think for a moment, his heart still beating at a concerning rate.

"How long have you been reading?" He finally asks, eyeing the book I'd practically thrown to the edge of the bed in my panic.

"A few hours," I say. "Started reading when you went to sleep."

He nods, going silent once more for a few more minutes. I focus on his hair, how some curls wrap perfectly around my fingertips, how soft his hair is even though he doesn't take proper care of it.

"Is it any good?" He asks softly, his mouth against my neck as he tries to relax.

Okay, talk about the book. Book with dead parents. Ah, fuck.

"Not... particularly," I admit. "The first one was better."

"Yeah?" Mike asks. "How so?"

Well, Mike. This is a V.C. Andrews novel. So there's an unsettling amount of incest that serves a horrifying point that I don't think you wanna hear about right now because that's gonna take several hours for me to explain. I wish you'd asked sooner.

"...questionable decisions," I decide is how I'll phrase it.

"Sounds like me," he mutters against my skin.

"I promise you it isn't," I mutter back, trying to think of what to say next.

Mike doesn't say anything, still breathing hard against my skin but finally gaining a steady rhythm. His body shakes less, my fingers gently combing through his hair as I finally speak again.

"It's something you'd laugh at if you felt better," I feel stupid, useless as I try to bring him back to me. But it seems to work, his shaking decreasing as he focuses on my words. "The main character is... dramatic, and... passionate."

I feel his smile against my skin, his fingers stroking my waist. "Oh?" He asks.

"Mm-hmm," I say. He hums, waiting for me to continue. And I'm not sure if I should.

"What's the plot?" He asks. Not something you should hear in your state, Michael. Lots of people die.

"It's about..."

Fucking half the town out of spite.

"...family."

That's one way to put it.

"And... doing what's right."

By burning a house down.

"And taking care of those you love."

Well, at least that point is accurate.

He seems content with this, pulling me down onto the bed once more and keeping me close.

"Are you okay?" I ask him carefully.

"I will be," he says softly. "Thank you. For caring."

"Of course I care," I say with a small laugh of nervous relief. "I love you."

Oh.

Oh motherfucker, no.

"What?" Mike asks in a small voice, his body going still, mine going stiff.

Goddammit.

We've been together for about a year. And this is a normal point to finally say the words to each other, a sweet moment of realization and commitment that I'd been wanting to have. And I'd been trying to find the right moment, wanting to say it while he serves pancakes in the morning that he douses in syrup because he hates them dry. To say it when he pulls me close at night, taking a deep breath as he smells my hair. When he falls asleep on the couch or with his head on my lap. And maybe he's wanted to say it too, the way his eyes linger on me when I spin around the room with his sister, or when I fix her hair before walking her out the door, or when I slip out said door to return to my own home only to find myself back here the next day anyways, unable to stay away.

But this is the wrong moment. A moment of fear and terror and I have been selfish enough to dare utter such words that he may not even reciprocate while he's in such a vulnerable state. Shit.

"What did you say?" Mike asks, pulling away to look into my face, suddenly awake and clear of any fog that had been torturing him.

I can't speak. I can't tell him. What if he doesn't feel the same way? Or worse, what if he says it back in a desperation for approval after such pressure has been placed upon him to respond. Or what if he convinces himself he feels the same way only because I do?

"I- Shouldn't-" My head is shaking, eyes wide in worry as I try to think of a response.

"Shouldn't?" He says in the most heartbreaking voice.

"No!" This is all wrong! It all sounds wrong.

"Oh," he says quietly, eyes casted downwards.

"No, wait a minute. This is wrong-" I stutter, my hands shaking slightly.

"I heard you the first time," He says flatly, eyes avoiding mine.

"I'm sorry," I blurt out. "I didn't mean to say anything."

"Then stop saying things," He says sharply, pulling away and turning to face the room.

"I'm not- I can't-" One of the ways Mike and I understand each other is by the way vulnerability makes us choke, gagging on sincere words for fear of rejection and becoming fools. And this time is one of them, even if I'm fighting against it. The silence is too long as I choke on my own tongue.

"It's fine," he says. He stands from the bed, not looking back at me. "I'm gonna take a shower."

I open my mouth to speak, my mind urging me to extend my hand in explanation. But he walks quickly, opening and shutting the door before I can even begin to put the words together in my mind. And I'm alone. With no one but my book to offer comfort.

I try to read. Try to focus on Cathy's piss poor plan that ends with her toes broken because of her terrible husband that she married to avoid her adoptive father. (Don't ask.) But all I can think about is what I should have said. And what Mike must be thinking. Of course he misunderstood me, his mind still racing from adrenaline and nightmares of losing his sister, addled by his sleep medication that would still be in effect. Vulnerable situations are already tricky with Mike, who'd lost his family young and had been forced to create his own stability with no comfort or care returned to him until the past few years when he finally began to create a new inner circle. It was understandable that he was gun shy around this sort of topic. And his already darkened mind earlier today? What a horrible day for a moment like this.

It feels like an eternity, but it must have only been about half an hour when Mike comes racing back into the room. Wet, towel crudely wrapped around his waist and holding up his hand as he rushed towards the bed.

"There's blood on here," he said. "Who's is it?"

I squint as I try to look, reaching out for his hand. He offers it quickly, and at the sight I remember. My thigh. Earlier when he'd gripped it so hard, nails digging in. I can see the blood underneath his nails, dark and most likely having just been noticed by him.

"Earlier when you were upset you grabbed my thigh," I say. Within seconds he's on the bed, ripping the sheet off of me and dripping water all over the place. It's not exactly a pretty sight, cuts from where his nails had dragged and sunk into me. His eyes go wide, cheeks turning pink with shame.

"Jesus," he says. "I didn't mean to."

"I know, you were scared," I say. "Don't worry about it."

"Let me clean this," he says, moving to stand from the bed.

"Mike, we need to talk," I say, grabbing his wrist. He doesn't stop, trying to pull his arm free.

"After I clean this."

"No, now," I say. My voice sounds so much sharper than it should in a situation like this, like a command rather than a request. But he finally stops his rush, his eyes meeting mine as he stands still, gripping the towel around his waist as he contemplates.

"I left the water running," he finally says.

"Clean me in there," I offer thoughtlessly. He raises an eyebrow at me but doesn't question it, tugging me up by my hand and not letting go as we walk to the bathroom in silence.

The water stings on my cuts as Mike kneels in front of me, his body between my slightly parted legs as his hands wash me carefully, lathering soap and working at my thigh with careful concentration. 'It's been ten minutes. Say something, dumbass,' I think to myself.

"I love you," Mike blurts out suddenly. His hands don't rubbing soap onto my thigh, and his eyes don't meet mine. "And you don't have to feel the same way, but you should know that I do."

There's another long moment of silence, dread filling my chest.

"Why are you saying this?" I finally ask. He looks up at me with an unintentional glare.

"What?" He asks sharply.

"Are you saying this for me or for you?" I ask. His brows furrow.

"I don't know what you mean," he says.

"Earlier I said I love you and that was a mistake-"

"You don't need to remind me."

"No, my timing was a mistake. You were vulnerable," I say quickly, sliding quickly down the shower wall to join him on the floor of the bathtub. "Are you saying this because I said it or because you mean it?"

Realization seems to finally sink through, Mike blinking at me slowly.

"So, you love me?"

"I'm sorry that I was an idiot earlier-"

"But you love me?"

"I've been trying to say it for months, but I couldn't-"

Mike's kiss is hard and clumsy, teeth clicking together and making us both draw away in a fit of stupid, teenage like giggles from the way he'd tried to be romantic and jump on me, my face now covered in the orange scented soap from his hands.

"You need to lead with that next time," he says, laughing and covering my face in quick kisses without care that he's smearing the soap onto his face too. "You had me scripting our conversations for the next month in here."

"I was trying. You know I can't- that-" I can hardly respond between his kisses, tasting awful but so sweet I can't help but want more.

"I love you," he says. Then he says it again, and again. Like a dam has been broken and he can't stop the river spilling forth. "I love you."

"I love you too," I finally say, relieved and melting into his touch under the warm stream that he drags me under, holding me close to his body.

Later, as we lay in bed, I finally tell him the real plot of my book, to which he says "I take it back, get out," before dragging me under the covers to repeat his devotion again and again until we can't say it anymore. Coherently, that is.

¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

I'm gonna be fr, I haven't been happy with my writing lately and that's mostly due to my packed schedule. This is a draft I've been working on in bits and pieces for the last couple weeks when I've had a spare moment at work, and honestly will probably regurgitate at some point in the future when I have the time and energy to get more detailed with this concept in a more detailed fic. But for right now, I did want to put this out as a drabble. So, I hope you enjoyed it, and I promise I'll try to get some more properly fleshed out content out soon for y'all <3

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 @jhutchissupercool . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

•▪︎Masterlist▪︎•

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supervillain-smut · 1 year

Text

How do the slashers react to orgasm denial?

You’ve managed to get the jump on them and successfully restrain them. How you did it, you don’t know, but now that you think about it, they’re kind of hot, and completely under your control… It’s your turn to torture them. Give them a taste of their own medicine, in your own special way.

(THIS WORK FEATURES NON-CON ELEMENTS (MOSTLY SLASHERS RECEIVING), CURSING, DUBIOUS CONSENT, AND ORGASM DELAY/DENIAL. 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!)

FEATURING: BO & VINCENT SINCLAIR, BRAHMS HEELSHIRE, BUBBA SAWYER, GHOSTFACE (GENERAL PERSONA, WHICHEVER YOU FANCY), DR. HANNIBAL LECTER (ANTHONY HOPKINS), MICHAEL MYERS, RUBEN “RUVIK” VICTORIANO, STEFANO VALENTINI, THOMAS “TOMMY” HEWITT, AND HARRY WARDEN/TOM HANNIGER

AO3 LINK

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Bo Sinclair: He’s at a loss for words.

“F…Fuck! Will you just lemme… Ahhh! God…”

The man who was just about to torture you in this dingy little basement, who’d seemed like such a sweet-talker only hours ago, could not form a complete sentence. The anger was still in his eyes, oh was it ever, but he’d given up on getting out around an hour ago and had only focused on convincing you to let him cum.

He wasn’t about to beg, oh no he was far too proud of that, but if he wasn’t going to before he is sure as shit he might now.

You could tell he was getting close again, the time it took was becoming shorter and shorter, as he leaned his head back, his breath came in short gasps, and his hips strained against the rope you had used to tie him down after he couldn’t stop bucking into your hand in a vain effort to reach completion.

He swallowed hard, his mouth dry from hanging open, panting, and attempting to talk for the last half hour, his voice beginning to sound hoarse. “Pl… GOD will you just let me cum? FUCK it hurts… Aaarrggh!!” He growled as you took your hand off his cock again.

“I don’t know. Maybe I should think about it.” Bo’s eyes widened in fear at your words, and he began to fight his restraints again desperately.

You walked away to the beginnings of his screams of threats, the last one fading in volume as you shut the door.

“DON’T YOU FUCKING WALK AWAY FROM ME! DON’T LEAVE ME LIKE THIS!!”

Brahms Heelshire: He begs.

You didn’t really have to restrain him at all. More like telling him to stay like a dog and he reacts like he’s bound. Even still, you’ve tied him to the headboard, and not once has he fought it. He’s been surprisingly good.

“I’ll be good, I promise!” He whines as he tries to buck his hips into your hand. “I won’t hurt you! I would never! I wanted to protect you! He hurt you!” He cried out as he let his head fall back into the pillows. You could see him swallow thickly and feel his hips still in an attempt to ‘be good’ for you.

You almost felt bad for the last four times he was close. Almost.

You stilled your hand again and heard him whine. He was almost pathetic with how easily he submitted to your demands, how he’d let you tie him up and tease him for this long, even though you could see it in his body that he wanted to fight back, to take control back, and yet he didn’t. Not once.

You watched him steady his breathing and pick his head up to look at you. You made the mistake of meeting his eyes; the biggest brown puppy dog eyes looked straight into the empathetic part of you. He was so patient, and he was being good… You resumed your pace, running your thumb over the head of his cock and he keened in return. His hips thrust forward just slightly, and you corrected him.

“Ah-ah! Be good and you can come. Don’t move.” He groaned, but still, you felt his hips stop.

You pressed just behind his balls and his back arched before he slammed back down onto the bed, remembering your order; he was really trying, you could tell. You felt him pulse and twitch in your hand, signaling he was close as precum oozed from the tip. You didn’t stop this time and watched as thin, watery jets of cum erupted from his cock, coating your hand and his stomach as he cried out again and again.

“Good boy, Brahms. Such a good boy.”

Bubba Sawyer: He’s obedient.

“So you’re going to be good, play nice, and help me out of this place, right?” You needed to make sure he was going to help you, but at this point, you were pretty sure he’d do anything, probably including chopping off his own hand just so he could come. You pressed your foot harder into his erection and he moaned, hanging his head as the ropes that bound his hands behind his back and around the metal pole took his weight.

He was drooling and bucking his hips into whatever touch you gave him. You knelt down and tipped his head up. His eyes pleaded with you. You slowly slid your hand up and down his shaft, and he began to hit his head on the pole in frustration. You quickly brought your free hand to the back of his head and did your best to stop him.

“Hey, hey! Don’t do that. I’ll let you come, and then you help me out of here, okay?” He met your eyes and nodded frequently and mumbling something you could never understand. “Okay, then.” You picked up the pace and he was breathing hard, his noises were getting louder and louder. Finally, he came, his sounds muffled in your hand covering his mouth, his cum blending in with the rest of the mess that covered his apron.

“There. Now, your end of the bargain.”

Ghostface: He screams for hours.

You needed earplugs or something. What started out as a good idea in your mind now that you had the bastard that had tried to kill you tied up in a chair and completely at your mercy had eventually turned into a goddamn banshee of threats and insults. He sounded like the one being murdered now.

“You fucking bitch! I’m going to kill you! I’m going to gut you like a fish and skip rope with your intestines!”

Yeah, you stopped having fun a while ago. Around the third time you didn’t let him come.

“You know what?!”

“What?!”

“You can fucking stay here and rot for all I care. I’m grabbing a drink from the store, and you get to stay here. Scream all you want, you’re caught red-handed by the security cams trying to kill me, and I stopped them before I started to have my fun, so as far as they know you were just some pervert that was trying to kill a defenseless person!”

Silence. For the first time in two hours, complete silence from both of you. He sat there and, what you assumed, was staring at you. You grabbed your bag from the floor and pulled on your shoes.

“Wait, where are you going?” You didn’t respond. “You’re not seriously leaving me here, are you?” You continued towards the door and opened it, turning to look at him. “You wouldn’t dare. You get back here!” You backed out of the doorway. “Don’t do it you little bitch!” You slammed the door. “GET THE FUCK BACK HERE!” He was muffled from down the hall and behind the door, but not by much. Man, that guy could scream.

Dr. Hannibal Lecter: He acts unfazed.

You had stopped him from coming four times now. You wouldn’t be able to tell by looking at him, the only evidence you’d even so much as started to have your way with him was the slightly red flush to his cheeks and the small beads of sweat on his forehead.

“How?” He lifts his head to look you in the eyes, his baby blues as stubborn as they were intrigued at what you’ll try next.

“How, what? Be specific, otherwise, I can’t answer the question.”

“How have you not gone crazy yet? Surely you want to come.”

He stayed silent for a moment before answering, looking you up and down. “Why? Would you have? Besides, if I admit what I want you’re just going to keep taking it from me. Best to keep you guessing whether that’s what I want or what my body wants.” You tilted your head in confusion.

“What’s the difference between what you or your body want?”

He smirked at you. “The difference, my dear, is that your body merely reacts to stimuli, meanwhile your consciousness and your wants make all the difference as to whether it truly affects you.”

You thought for a moment. “So you don’t want to come?” You smirk back at him, leaning into his game. “I didn’t say that. Then again… I didn’t say suggest anything to the contrary, merely stated a fact.”

As he was talking you began to stroke him again, running your thumb along the prominent vein on the underside of his cock. You finally noticed something you hadn’t before; he gasped when you did.

You paused everything. “Thank you for that fact, Doctor Lecter. It’s given me a great deal of insight.” It was his turn to tilt his head at you, as much as the hand truck dolly he was restrained to, as well as the mask to keep him from biting you, would allow him.

“You do want to come.” He stayed silent, but his eyes betrayed him.

“Clever girl.”

Michael Myers: He never stops trying to escape.

You had dodged death many times on Halloween night. Once by avoiding death via The Shape, otherwise known as Michael Myers, and about seven more times since you’d somehow, by some miracle, managed to restrain him. If you weren’t dead before, you’d absolutely be if he caught you. He hasn’t stopped struggling since he noticed he was trapped, wrapped up in extension cords and strapped to the table with his arms pinned at his sides.

You’d been taking advantage of this new and exhilarating scenario heavily, starting with merely feeling him up while you had the chance, then palming him through the mechanic's suit, until you were jerking him off and had even dared to deny him release. He was not happy about that. Not at all, given the amount of struggling he was really doing now.

You were hypnotized by every muscle, every muffled grunt of effort, frustration, and fury that escaped his lips that you couldn’t see, obscured by his iconic mask. You moved to take it off, and you could’ve sworn he’d nearly given himself whiplash with how hard he jerked his head away from you. He began to struggle again, and you leaned back in your chair, expecting it to be another fruitless endeavor of his. That was until his arm came shooting out toward you, stopping just before your face.

You launched out of the chair, unsure what to do; you couldn’t restrain him again. You thought too long about it, and by the time your mind had caught back up with reality, his hand was around your throat. Finally, as he brought his face centimeters away from yours, could you see his eyes. Something in them told you he wanted revenge. How he was going to get it was the terrifying part.

Ruben “Ruvik” Victoriano: He threatens.

“Let go of me. Now.”

That was how it started, anyway. His voice was as calm yet deadly as the sea. Now, however, it shook with desperation.

“Once I get out of this… I’m going to… Ahh! Fuck!” You started to stroke him just as he began another empty threat, staring him down as those icy blue eyes glared a hole straight through you.

“We both know you either won’t do anything, or you can’t do anything. If you could’ve, you would’ve by now. I’ve got you right where I want you, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” You spoke calmly as you stopped moving your hand, opting to instead circle the head of his cock with your thumb, watching as his chest rose and fell as he watched you, a moan rumbling from his throat. The gurney wasn’t the most ideal thing to strap him to, but unfortunately, the only thing you had.

“I can absolutely get out of this. This is my world. You’re in my world!” You raised your brow at his words, feeling his cock twitch, threatening you of its release.

You let go of his cock and walked away as Ruben gawked at you from the gurney.

“Alright then, get out. Or off.”

Stefano Valentini: He bargains.

“Oh, tesoro per favore non fermarti*!” Stefano whined from under you as you held the knife to his throat, pressed your knee harder into his chest, and stroked his cock at a fast and relentless pace, watching as his face scrunched up in pleasure. His mouth was agape, panting and pouring honeyed words in Italian as he gave in to your demands at knifepoint.

You had somehow managed to get his knife off of him and his camera lay forgotten, at least for now, a good five feet away from you both, unharmed. You had left him on the edge of euphoria three times now, and the view was incredible. He sat in front of you with his back pressed to the wall as you held him steady with his own blade, your knee pressed flat to his chest as if he needed any further reinforcement not to move, and your other hand was on his cock.

“You know, if you let me go I can really fuck you properly. I won’t lay a finger on you that you don’t want to be there, I swear.”

You couldn’t lie that his propositions weren’t making you incredibly wet; you wanted him, of that there was no doubt, but you did doubt if he’d hold up his end of the bargain. You considered his offer, slowing your pace, but hardening your grip on the knife. You had decided as you removed the knife from his throat, much to his delight evident in his eye, and you slid it across the floor far away from you both. He smiled earnestly at you, and then he was on you in a flash.

*Honey please don’t stop

Thomas "Tommy" Hewitt: He glares.

His body shudders violently and he groans as he nearly reaches his peak before you take your hand away and pull harder on the ropes tying him to the chair he had in the basement. You can’t look at him and those chocolate eyes filled with hate and murderous intent, solely for you. He hasn’t taken that gaze off of you since you managed to tie him up.

You let him sit for a little while before working his cock again, pulling an animalistic growl out of him as his hips desperately tried to thrust upwards into your hand, but his position wouldn’t allow him. You ran your thumb over the head, causing his head to fly back as he moaned hoarsely. Maybe if you stopped teasing him, he’d stop glaring at you like that.

That was your plan as you worked him over the edge, as he gasped and whined, jets of cum hitting his apron and oozing onto your hand as you gave him a few moments to catch his breath. Once his breathing had slowed back to normal did you lift your gaze to his. He was still glaring at you like a big cat in a cage, unrelenting in the slightest. You couldn’t let him go or he’d absolutely kill you, so you tied the ropes into knots behind him and began working on your escape.

Vincent Sinclair: He writhes.

He despised the fact that he was currently strapped down to his own bed, in his own workspace, with his twin brother just upstairs, completely unable to hear him, and completely unaware the person he was looking for was just below, torturing him. Vincent couldn’t help the way his body was reacting, begging for release as all he could do was let out hoarse moans and pleas. His hips desperately chased his release as you stilled your hand once again, causing him to throw his head back and arch his back as much as the restraints would allow him as he cried out.

His legs and arms were working desperately to free themselves, to no avail as you left him on the edge over and over again. He was beautiful, you had to admit; his one blue eye silently pleaded with you as his pitch-black hair lay sprawled on the bed, some strands stuck to his sweaty forehead as the heat of the basement and the heat building inside him proved too much, his mask was removed long ago when it had started to lose its form.

He attempted to buck up into your hand once again, and he wailed as you completely removed it, his body still writhing, although he was unsure why anymore. Was it to escape and end you, or a vain attempt to find some other way of release? He had all the time in the world to figure it out.

Harry Warden/Tom Hanniger: One hates it, the other loves it.

When Tom was in control, it was a consensual bit of fun, edging him until he couldn’t take it anymore and gave in. He loved those times with you, seeing how long he could last, sometimes beating his previous record, other times giving in much earlier. But when Harry was in control, when that mask was on and all you could hear was his heavy breathing, it was a whole different game, a whole other test.

Tonight was one of those nights. Instead of Tom coming home to you, Harry Warden stood at your doorway, had forced his way inside and onto you, still feeling the adrenaline of what seemed to be a fairly recent kill given the amount of blood that dripped from his pick, which he leaned against the door frame.

He had made it clear exactly what he wanted as he forced you onto your knees, but what he didn’t anticipate was your rebellious nature as you had seemingly obeyed, taking his cock into your mouth and eventually down your throat, until you felt him twitch, his breathing heavier than before, his right hand digging into the wall behind you as his left clenched into a ball at his side.

You could hear the gasp and groan that escaped him when you stopped completely with his cock down your throat, your hands on his hips to keep him from thrusting into your mouth. He stood there, eerily calm as you waited until his breathing slowed again before you returned to swallowing him.

This went on twice before he’d had enough, gripping your hair at the back of your head, pushing your hands away, and relentlessly fucking into your mouth, forcing himself down your throat until he came down it. He pulled himself out of your mouth as you gasped for air, and he gently wiped the tears that had fallen, before he roughly picked you up and threw you onto the couch; apparently, he wasn’t finished with you just yet.

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ughkat · 7 months

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hi! could you write calum x reader where calum has a crush on her and ashton exposes his crush on her during a live or something?

pls and thank u

i might do a part two of this idk 😳

crush | c.t.h

calum x fem!reader

part two here

got excited writing this sorry ab the lengthiness!

alcohol, swearing

not proofread

"I'm heading over right now."

"We'll be here.".

I finished my phone call to Ashton, who had just minutes ago invited me for a routine hangout with him and the other three boys.

My friendship with Ashton had sprouted prior to his band forming. We were best friends, some would describe as inseparable. Once joining the band, they immediately brought me in as well. Though never having the same connections as I did with Ashton with them, Calum, Luke and Michael never failed to make me feel at home.

Since then, we've grown up and blossomed into larger things in life, yet we still keep our bond close. Routine effortless hangouts and conversations on almost a daily has kept out growing friendships alive.

Recently, I had began to notice a shift in energy with Calum. I tried to think nothing of it, but the conversations began to get shorter, and his words for me grew small. He almost made me feel as if I did something wrong.

I gathered my belongings, checking my outfit before heading outside to my car, shivering at the cold weather. I dressed lazily in a large grey hoodie, along with black leggings and converse. I quickly turned on the heater after starting my car, and pulled put of the driveway.

I drove quietly as my mind wandered about confronting Calum for his change of mood towards me. I knew I was safe to bring up an issue to my friends, but I was concerned this was only a me problem.

My wandering mind passed the time quickly, arriving me to Ashton's apartment. I pulled slowly onto the curb in front of his apartment, sending off a quick "I'm here" text before exiting my car.

"Heyyy!" Ashton cheered goofily, raising his arms as he appeared from the front door. I giggled as I made my way up his driveway towards him. He reached an arm out for a quick hug as he spoke.

"How ya' doing?" He smiled, ushering me inside. I sighed dramatically.

"Could be better." I raised my eyebrows with defeat as I made my way inside. I set my bag and keys down on his kitchen counter which was decorated with various alcoholic beverages and snacks. I turned to the living room, being greeted by Calum, Luke and Michael at the couch. I watched as Calum's eyes quickly met mine, then shot back down to his hands.

"Well..." Ashton began, moving behind me swiftly, "Have a shot." He grinned, I turned to look at Ashton who had presented me with a small glass with a shot of mystery alcohol in it. The three boys from the living room shouted dramatic miscellaneous cheers and encouragements from behind me. I let out a laugh and reached for the drink. I looked at Ashton and shook my head laughing. With a shrug, I tossed my head back, taking my shot quickly. I scrunched my face briefly before frantically searching for a chaser.

"Give me a drink. I need a drink." I mumbled, shaking my head. Luke whistled from the couch with a laugh, holding out a Coke can. I hurried to the open drink and took a large swig.

"You didn't take that shot, that shot took you." Michael joked as I found my seat on the couch. I scoffed with furrowed eyebrows.

"Fuck off." I giggled. I glanced to Calum who had been awfully quiet. He was heavily focused on picking at a loose string on his t-shirt, faking an amused look on his face. I immediately noted his off mood. The boys continued whatever conversation they had before I arrived, laughing and cracking joke's beside me. I watched Calum carefully as he loosely followed their words, more in his own head than present with us. I decided to finally speak up.

"Cal." I chirped, snapping him out of his trance. His head perked up quickly as the room fell silent.

"Hm?" He raised an eyebrow, his eyes darted to everyone in the room nervously, then back to mine. I anxiously slouched back down at the unexpected and unnerving silence before speaking.

"Are you mad at me or something?" I questioned, keeping a cool tone. I watched from my peripheral as the boys eyes flashed to Calum. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he shook his head slowly.

"No..?" He muttered quietly. I bit the inside of me cheek and looked to the other boys, hoping one of them would agree with my observation of Calum's negative mood. Instead, they watched Calum like a bomb.

"You've been so quiet and weird with me lately. I know they see it too." I laughed anxiously, motioning to the boys. I widened my eyes at them, begging for some help. Calum looked to the boys, licking his lips anxiously.

"I-.." He began nervously, "I've just been feeling kinda off recently. I'm sorry." He stuttered nonchalantly, his eyes failing to connect with mine. "Kinda off?" I thought to myself, "Bad excuse.".

"I think he just means in the studio and such. We've all been pretty tired recently." Ashton jumped in quickly, glancing at Calum after speaking.

"Right." I replied, not buying whatever game they were trying to play.

We continued the night many hours into the early morning, as we normally would, we watched a few movies and ordered a bunch of junk food. Calum kept up his unusual behavior, trying his best to fake it, but I never let go of the thought that I would find out what was going on with him.

"You sure you don't wanna spend the night? It's late, and you've been drinking." Ashton offered as we walked to his front door. I gave him a hug and stepped outside.

"No, it's okay." I looked down to my phone, noting the time of 1:45 am. "I have work tomorrow and I'm okay to drive. My last drink was hours ago and all those snacks and fast food have taken over my veins." I groaned dramatically. Ashton giggled before nodding gently.

"I'll see you later." He patted my back and sent me down his driveway, watching me as I entered my car.

On my drive home, I was left unsatisfied with my confrontation with Calum. I thought our closeness would have led him to be more open, but he was so blatantly lying. Ashton obviously covering the lie for him only grew my suspicions more. My mind raced of the possibilities of what could be bothering the boy.

I lazily kicked off my shoes as I entered my apartment, tossing my keys of a small side table beside the door. Filled with junk from Ashton's house, I skipped my kitchen and headed straight for my bedroom.

I slipped out of my black leggings and hoodie, changing into a large shirt and underwear. As I tossed my laundry into the basket, my phone let off a ding on my bed. I flopped onto my bed, reaching for my phone and reading the notification. It read that the boys had started a live stream on twitch. I let out a giggle, amused at the boy's inability to rest. Clicking on the notification, I settled into my bed.

"We just saw each other 20 minutes ago!" Ashton cheered sarcastically from the livestream. I smiled at the faces on the screen.

"Hey, Y/n is here." Ashton chuckled, looking closer at the screen. I watched as the boys talked to the viewers of the stream and to each other, making jokes and messing with filters.

"Calum's sad cause Y/n yelled at him." Michael joked. Calum sent Michael a death glare, earning a chuckle from me.

"She didn't yell at me." Calum scoffed with a forced smile. I rolled my eyes sarcastically at his stubbornness, continuing to tune into the stream.

"He's sad cause he's in love with her." Ashton mumbled looking down to his phone, widening his eyes quickly and looking up at his screen after speaking, realizing what he had said.

"Dude." Calum spoke quietly. I narrowed my eyebrows at his words, him looking just as surprised as me. Ashton turned off his camera, followed by Calum, as if he had said something controversial. I put the speaker to my ear as the live suddenly fell quiet. Incoherent whispers came through before Ashton appeared again.

"Alright we'll see you guys later." Ashton forced a smile and a wave to the livestream before ending it abruptly. I stared at my empty screen in confusion, trying to make sense of Ashton's words. Did I hear him wrong? Was my phone glitching? I decided to play it cool and text Ashton calmly.

"Hey, why'd you end your live?"

I watched the three dots appear and disappear repeatedly before his message appeared.

"You should text Cal.".

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ef-1 · 6 months

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WHERE is the AD18 post you liar 🤕 jk ilysm pls take your time I'm just curious

sorRY I FORGOT OKAY

let me preface this by saying that there really wasn't anything notable about AD18 (Fernando was "retiring" but we knew that for months in advance, Charles was replacing Kimi at Ferrari but we knew that for months in advance, it was Daniel's last race at RB but we also knew that for months in advance etc) most of what I feel about that weekend is probably nostalgia but. It was the ✨️vibe✨️ the vibe was so immaculate. Drivers used to say that the last race of the season feels like the last day of school but 2018 really just captured that sentiment, no one wanted to be there but in the best way possible you know?

Formative event for me personally was Sebastian and Lewis trading helmets. I think what makes #sewis compelling now is how far they've come. But how far they've come also has the added disadvantage of neutering and sanitising what Seb and Lewis were back in the day. I mean 2018 literally started in Aus with Lewis telling Seb he wanted to wipe the smile off his face. At the beginning of 2018 Lewis was a 4 time champion, tied with Seb. Seb said again and again and again that he had a vested interest in Lewis not winning anymore championships, for his sake and for the sake of protecting Michael Schumacher's record. Anyway it was like. WILD and heart-warming and a very big deal

Re: Fernando retiring. So like. At that point, his last race of his career*, Fernando had already shat on McLaren in literally every fucking conceivable way, calling the engine an f2 engine (gp2), when asked about the very expensive updates on his car he replied "feels good. Much slower than before. Amazing". And ofc in AD18 he couldn't leave without one last jab, his race engineer was trying to gas him up to fight for p10 and he's like "you can fight for that 1 point ☝️ Fernando🔥🔥 1 point is on the table💯" to which he replied "👹I HAVE 1 THOUSAND AND 8 HUNDRED POINTS⁉️👹"

Re: re Alonso retiring, they painted him an ugly ass mural (support artists pls but it looked funny) in the driver's meeting room and during the important drivers debrief while Carlos was giving a lecture about safety or something Daniel lost it and Fernando filmed him losing it

nothing will ever go harder than this im afraid + obvi it was the champions sending Fernando off with 🍩 but fate is a fan of aesthetics so Kimi who was supposed to do donuts with them retired from the race (I think it would have thrown off the composition of the photo with 2 red cars so I'm glad)

Lewis offering Seb a Monster and Seb replying "I prefer Red Bull" (<-I Died that day)

During the last Team Principal conference of the year, of course they sat Christian and Cyril next to eachother. And of course they asked him about losing Daniel and the renault engine, to which Christian decided the best way to answer that question is to remind Cyril that while they're both basically the same age, when Christian was the youngest TP in F1, Cyril was working in the kitchen 😭

In conclusion it was chaos and I loved it so much and it will forever hold a v special place in my heart

#2018 was very very VERY painful but AD was beautiful and iconic and bitter-sweet and for the history books #f1 #daniel ricciardo #lewis hamilton #sebastian vettel #fernando alonso #Christian Horner

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sidneyprescottswhore · 8 months

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BROOOO IM IN LOVE WITH AMBER AND UR WRITING IS AMAZING AND U NEED MORE AMBER FICS SO IM GOING TO REQUESTTTT🥶🥶 SO LIKE CAN U DO SMTH WHERE LIKE AMBER AND READER ARE ENEMIES SO LIKE AMBER BREAKS INTO READERS HOUSE TO KILL HER BUT FINDS HER HIDING IN LIKE A BRA AND PANTIES AND LIKE FUCKS HER BC SHE LOOKS SO CUTE🙏🙏🙏🙏 also pls add mommy kink ik u said she might have a daddy kink but pls do mommy instead😖😖😾😾😾😭😭

your hands were on my hips, your name was on my lips

over over again, like my only prayer

amber freeman x fem!reader.

warnings: g!p amber, choking, other shit… however i am so fucking lazy sorry <3

after finishing this i realized i forgot a mommy kink! well oops also this is short and sucky sorry i have no fucking motivation and really want to write for lana

that phone call.

that same voice from the threatening phone call you had recieved minutes before, was now booming through your house.

you had obviously thought they were joking.

“im gonna tear through your house, and then through you next.”

god, could they have worded that any worse? “im gonna tear through you.” to you, that had just sounded like a more, rough, way to talk about sex.

but, maybe, maybe you were just a sex freak.

so obviously, you had went back to what you were doing before. hanging up the phone, not giving a shit less of what that person had to say.

but now, you regreted just sitting there, rather than calling the police. you chose not to think of your regret, but more or less to just stay quiet, and still. there was someone roaming throughout your house. of course you were gonna stay quiet?? what the fuck else would you be doing?

you were embarrassed shitless. at this time and moment, this stranger couldn’t have wanted to kill you at a worse time. you were stuck, in lacy white panties, finished with a pink little bow. even had a matching bralette. it was fucking freezing, and you were gonna die in the most provocative outfit you could have ever worn that day. you felt like you were sitting on bricks, as you sat atop on all of the piled up shoes in your closet.

as you stood up to move the shoes covering the floor, you heard your bedroom door slam open, you immediately fell to your feet, hand cupping your mouth in order to not let any noise escape.

what an uncomfortable way to die… damn.

you heard the footsteps approaching that closet door, and you immediately started to think of ways to seduce this person, because.. it was really all you could do, considering you were dressed up as if you were a hooker. as if you were waiting for this moment, to use your charm. to use your body to seduce one who was there to kill you. to show it off to all your hooker friends. but no, that was not the case at all.

your mind was cluttered with so many thoughts that you had lost all attention to the world, it wasnt until you felt the cold metal of what looked like a knife underneath your chin, that you had realized.. some person.. in a mask, was staring right at you. it was a dumb mask, really. like, lets say, michael myers… but if he got his face melted off. the way the eyes and jaw hung low made you giggle as you looked this ‘killer’ in the eyes of the mask. it wasnt till after your giggle fit that you realized: this guy might be for real, i mean, you could even feel that knife sliding down to your neck, the cold metal point poking you just so slightly. drawing the tiniest prick of blood, and the tiniest tear in the corner of your eye.

“aww.. what’s wrong? i thought that.. that it was funny?”

the once menacing voice that was on the other side of that phone line, was now gentle and teasing. even stuttering between words. its like he wanted to pity you.

as the guy slid the knife away from you, you could hear his breathing pick up. he sucked in a breath and began to talk to you once more.

“you’re cute you know.. makes me not wanna kill you.” the knife was now sliding down to your bra. “adorable” he closed..wait, he? HE? no, this person was not a “he”. the voice was more clear as he said that last word. less groggy and robotic, more… feminine.

the “guy” who was gonna spare your life because of your charm.. was a woman.

you snapped back to reality at your nipples being exposed to the cold air, you looked down to see she severed the fabric of your bra. it sat ontop of your lap, your nipples hardening from the air.

“such cute nipples.” she said. her hands dropped the knife that sat in her hands originally, now moving to remove her gloves, and then her mask.

straight, pretty, black hair was revealed first, then a pale, beautiful face next. her eyes were gorgeous, her face was glistening in the light from sweat, her hair sticking to her forehead. god, you were… you were mesmerized.

you didn’t realize how long you had actually been staring for until you had realized her robe slowly being removed.

jesus christ.

you stared right at her black lacey panties, the bulge catching you off guard. it had looked like her cock was practically straining against the fabric, begging to be free.

you didn’t care that she had a dick, you didn’t care that she was just holding a knife up to your throat, you didn’t even care she came here solely to kill you.

you just wanted her so bad.

you started by slowly removing her panties, her cock springing out infront of your face. if you were being honest, she wasn’t that big. her cock was almost 6 inches, with a slight curve. but that didn’t even matter to you.

“i’m sorry that it wasn’t what you were expecting.” she frowned, obviously self conscious about her size. “no, no. it’s so fucking-“ your breath was hot on the tip of her cock as she took it into her hand, a slight amount of precum leaking from it. “-so fucking perfect.” you finished.

you took the tip into your mouth, catching amber by surprise. she seemed sensitive, already slowly bucking into your mouth. “easy there.” she nodded at that, stopping immediately. your tongue swirled around the tip, tasting that precum from before.

“look at me.” you spoke, your eyes looking up at her as she screwed her own shut, she attempted to open her eyes, not wanting to disobey. “you feel- so g-good..” she whined as you took the full length into your mouth. your hands snaked around to grab her ass as you continued to take her cock in your mouth, drool was sliding down your chin, you were sloppy but it just made it even better.

“oh, o-oh god.” she whimpered, resuming her movements as she bucked back into your mouth. “baby.. please” she was begging at this point.

“cum for me.” she cried at that, god she was so fucking sensitive. you took your mouth off of her, stroking her cock slowly. “please.. faster i can’t cum like that-“ she was whining, desperate and on the fucking edge.

“thats too bad, come on.. you can do it.” you cooed, rubbing her cock slow as ever. “f-fuck!” she moaned, feeling herself release all over your face. you groaned at that, continuing to stroke your cock until every last drop was gone.

“you taste so good, doll.”

#smut #scream #scream masterlist #x reader #scream fanfics #scream smut #amber freeman #amber freeman x afab reader #amber freeman x reader #amber freeman smut #amber freeman x afab #scream franchise #scream iv

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seeingivy · 9 months

Text

the ensemble cast

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting fic, masterlist here

content: eren being possessive for no reason, cherry + coke slushies, reader gets criticized online, good old teasing, reader mentions feeling anxious/having anxiety

an: lalalalalallalala lights camera action babes pls enjoy :D

previous part linked here

The set that Attack on Titan is filming on was originally from a previously scrapped project. Three weeks ago, when you and Eren first moved in, the two of you had pilfered from the leftover set dressings and props to see what you could find.

That’s where you find the tandem bike. The breaks don’t work that well, and the seat in the back is really uncomfortable, but it works well for you and Eren’s purposes, which is running away from set on lunch breaks to get slushies at the convenience store two blocks down.

As Hange said, you and Eren wouldn’t really have to do any method acting to become best friends. He’s literally the only other person on set besides Levi and Hange, who are usually too busy workshopping the set and the scripts to talk to you.

You guys eat breakfast together, go to class, and spend hours talking at night when you’re both too bored to do anything else.

You’re both leaning against the bike, two straws poked into the extra large slushie that you and Eren got. The cashier, Michael, gives you guys the slushie for free, but only one since he’s “not made of money.”

Hence, sharing. You guys always split the slushie in half - the right side is Coke for you, and the left is Cherry for Eren. It always swirls together halfway through when it starts melting, which is when you and Eren start playing with the straws - smacking yours into Eren’s and vice versa.

“Do you think it’ll be weird when everyone comes tomorrow, Eren?”

“Maybe a little bit. There’s a lot of them coming. And we’re used to having the place to ourselves.”

Tomorrow is the first official day of filming.

You and Eren have been filming scenes for the past three weeks. But tomorrow, the rest of the ensemble cast arrives, and you start really filming. And you can’t even lie - some part of the entire ordeal fills you up with anxiety.

Because the rest of the cast knows know each other already. Because they’re better actors than you. Because you’re kind of a fraud.

Eren mentioned that most of the people on the ensemble cast were great people because they were part of his class when he went to the SHWA. Meaning he already knew them. Meaning they all knew each other - that they had spent two years going to boarding school together and socializing within the same cohort.

Eren has already co-starred with Mikasa, and he and Jean used to do cameos on a different show together. He used to room with Reiner when he lived at the SHWA, and they’re all still really close.

Eren said it was kind of like a cult at times, how the industry seemed to function in that way. You just think he’s trying to make you feel better for being the sore thumb of the group.

But even beyond just meeting the cast, this entire week is a big deal. The ensemble cast is supposed to attend a panel that WIT hosts every year to answer questions and play the teaser trailer. Hange and Levi are panicking because first impressions can mean everything to a start-up show like this.

Eren tells you that there’s really big advertising company called the Elms that posts reviews of shows before they come out. They have no connections in the fields since they’re advertisers, but their opinions and reviews are basically written law once posted.

They’re the industry equivalent of a Michelin Star.

That’s why the pressure is on for this week - for the cast to get along, for us to finish filming and taking pictures for the promo, and to do great at the panel at the end of the week.

There’s so much to mess up you can’t even fixate on what to worry abo-

“Y/N. Stop it.”

You look over to find Eren glaring at you, shuffling his straw through the bottom of the ice at the cup. His lips and tongue are tinted pink from the drink, his expression annoyed.

“Stop what?”

“Thinking so hard. They’ll all like you, even if you didn’t go to SHWA.”

“I don’t know. I feel like you’ll all have inside jokes without me or something and leave me out. I don’t want to feel like a loser.”

He takes the cup from your hand, now empty, and swishes it into the trash can a few feet away from you. And then his ice-cold hand is in yours, squeezing.

You learn quickly that Eren isn’t the best with his words, but he’s always touching you in some way when a situation like this arises. He squeezed your shoulder when you forgot to bring your harness to set, delaying the entire crew for twenty minutes. And when you didn’t do so well on the French test you had last week, he put his hand in your hair but didn’t really say anything.

If it were anyone else, it wouldn’t work. But it’s Eren, and for some reason, it just does. It’s almost comforting now that you can rely on his hands to be on yours whenever you feel awkward.

“You’re not a loser, Y/N. And if someone thinks you’re a loser, I’ll just tell them they’re wrong about you.”

“Okay.”

“Plus. When they see us act, they’ll change their minds. You’re electric on the screen.”

Eren yanks the tandem bike off of the stand and pulls you up by the hand, the two of you lazily biking back to set. You try to ignore Eren’s comment and how it makes your entire body buzz.

You and Eren make ramen every morning. Because Levi said that the first time he did, it was a one-time occurrence, and he can’t feed you guys daily. He leaves out all the stuff for you, even going as far as cutting up all the vegetables that you like to put in your bowl.

“Eren.”

“Hm.”

“Try to catch the extra carrots in your mouth.”

You’re both playing the game a little bit too competitively as you start racing around the kitchen, trying to throw them so far that you both have to chase after them. And when Eren throws it all the way into the foyer, you go running.

That’s when you bump into him.

There’s a guy in the walkway who you accidentally knock into the ground from running so fast. He has short brown hair, the strands closer to his hair darker. And now that you’ve fallen on top of him, his hands are secured around your waist, both of your cheeks burning red.

You quickly scramble off, awkwardly running your hands through your hair.

“S-sorry. Me and Eren were playing a game.”

“No problem. I’m Jean.”

“Y/N.”

He smiles, his eyes glinting at you.

“Jean.”

“You said that already,” Eren grumbles from the kitchen.

You can see Jean’s cheeks burning red as the rest of them pile into the room, the quiet house suddenly bustling loud. You can’t help but get overstimulated by everyone you’re meeting, trying your best to remember names - Armin, Sasha, Bertholdt, Annie, Connie, Reiner - as they all start milling around the kitchen, sitting at the table.

“So, when are we eating?”

“Sasha shut the fuck up. All you’re worried about is eating.” Connie responds, smacking her across the forehead.

You walk over to the side of the table, tapping Sasha on the shoulder.

“They’re catering since you all flew in. They should be here in twenty minutes.”

She gives you a gleaming smile, returning to arguing with Connie. You can feel a hand tugging on your wrist, the guy from earlier yanking on your arm.

“So if they’re catering, why are you making ramen?” he asks, his cheeks pressed in his palms.

“Ah. Eren and I are kind of in the habit of making it. We kind of forgot they were supposed to cater today.”

“Well, it smells really good.”

“Did you want it, Jean? I don’t mind because Eren and I kind of ate before.”

“Oh, no. I couldn’t-”

You march over to the kitchen, where your steaming bowl of food is, much to Eren’s dismay, and return to place it in front of Jean. And when you return to the kitchen, you watch chaos ensue.

Connie and Sasha claim that Jean should share because they’re best friends. Jean says that Sasha’s asking for too much. Then Ymir says that Jean’s face is asking for too much, and now everyone’s arguing with each other.

You lean over, whispering in Eren’s ear as you talk.

“Are they always like this, Eren?”

“Unfortunately.”

He pushes his own bowl of ramen to your side, placing the chopsticks in your hand.

“Oh. It’s okay. I was the one who willingly gave my breakfast away and started World War Three, so.”

“Don’t be stupid, Y/N. Let’s just share.”

You and Eren shuffle the chopsticks in between your hands, taking turns eating from the bowl. And you’re so distracted because Eren’s asking you about Falco and Colt that you don’t realize it when it happens.

Connie taking a picture of you two.

And suddenly, they all stopped arguing with each other and started teasing Eren.

“So this is why you didn’t tell us anything about her? Trying to keep her all for yourself, huh?” Connie says first, smirking at Eren.

You can see the tips of Eren’s ears turn red as he denies it vehemently, only goading the rest of them on more.

“Eren. Do you think Y/N is pretty? Do you love her?” Ymir asks, swinging her arm around your shoulder.

“Where do you get off, you little bitch? Why would you even ask me that? Do you think Historia is pretty?”

“Yes. I do think Historia is pretty.”

You crane your neck over to Historia, whose sitting at the table, her cheeks glowing pink in her hands. Mikasa and Armin are sitting right next to her, focused on typing away on their phones, but you can see the smile pressed on both of their faces.

“You didn’t answer, Eren. Do you think Y/N is pretty? Do you guys kiss each other goodnight? ” asks Reiner, this time leaning even more forward. They’ve backed you and Eren into a corner, the six of them smiling bloody murder at Eren.

Eren hates being put into a corner like this. But he hates it even more when you’re looking over at him, your eyes boring into his, expectantly waiting for an answer.

“Yes. I think Y/N is pretty. No, we don’t kiss each other goodnight.” he murmurs, his cheeks burning red.

You can feel your own cheeks heating up as Levi comes by, dragging the rest of the new people to set with the promise of food. Sasha’s the first one to leave.

Leaving you and Eren alone in the kitchen again, the half-finished bowl of ramen between you.

“Eren.”

“They’re always like that. It’s so embarrassing. Now I’m never going to hear the end of it. Especially from Connie and Reiner, they’re so fucking annoying sometimes it’s-”

You place your hand on Eren’s shoulder, stopping his rant in his tracks.

“I think you’re cute.”

“Huh? What?”

“You told me that you think I’m pretty. Just thought you should know I think you’re cute,” you say, shrugging your hand off and grabbing your harness from the ground as you walk off to the set.

Eren joins twenty minutes later.

He needed the extra time to get his heart to stop violently thumping in his chest.

Armin is the only one brave enough to ask. He leans over, straight into Levi’s headspace, and asks.

“Levi. What are they doing?”

The eleven of them have been watching you and Eren do this for the past few minutes. You’re both…standing there, staring at each other. You’re not exactly talking, though you do whisper something to each other a few times. You’re just kind of…standing there together.

“They do this before they shoot scenes. Y/N said it’s not really a thing for her, but Eren says he needs to feel some… tingle before he can shoot.” Levi responds, yanking his headphones partially off.

“Tingle?” Armin repeats.

“Tingle.”

“That’s not a tingle. He’s just excited to see Y/N.” Reiner responds, the rest of them chuckling.

You’ve asked Eren to explain it to you maybe a hundred times. And he always says the same thing. That he needs a second before he can shoot to stop being him, Eren, and being the character, Eren. And he knows he’s thought about it hard enough when he can feel this… writhing in his chest.

Most of the time, it’s not bad. He usually just stands there for a few seconds, looking at the ground or the set, and he’s ready. But today, the entire thing is making your cheeks burn. Because not only are the rest of them watching you, but he’s staring at you - green eyes, all soft and warm. He never really looks at you like that, straight on.

“Are you nervous, Y/N?”

“A little bit. They’re all watching, and it’s kind of a hard scene.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“Why are you taking so long today? You’re literally just supposed to look all passed out in my arms.”

“For you. You’re like nervously twitching and have to stop before we can start.”

The scene isn’t too bad. You’re just supposed to get suspended in the air and then grab Eren when he comes out of his titan. Levi and Hange said it was preferable if you could try to cry, which Eren has been trying to coach you on for the past few days.

It’s supposed to be an emotional scene. You’re supposed to think Eren’s dead and that he’s returned to life. That your best friend, the only person whose been with you since you were little, will still get to be by your side.

(Hange’s really dramatic when they explain scenes).

And when you do it, you can feel your hands shaking. They’re blowing a lot of steam onto the set as you and Eren stick out of the prop titan, making your hair stick to your forehead and your skin sizzle under the lights.

You’re sure Eren feels the same way. You place your hands around Eren’s face as he starts wobbling in the air in your hold.

You’re not supposed to say anything. You’re just supposed to feel it.

That’s what Hange wrote on your script, next to the blocking for this scene. You place your hands around Eren’s face and take the sight in. The red marks streaking down the side of his face, the way his eyes are closed, and you’re not sure what makes it happen, but you really want to hug him.

Because if this were really true, if you really did think Eren was gone, you would want to hug him. You would want to hold him in your arms, press yourself into his skin to make sure that you can feel him, so that you knew he was really there.

So you do. It wasn’t in the script or what Hange and Levi wanted you to do, but it just felt right. To hold him like this. Some part of your stomach is burning because Eren isn’t really wearing a shirt and even Eren awkwardly shuffles when you do it. You whisper down into his ear.

“Sorry. Felt right.”

And when Levi yells cut and they pull you and Eren down, Annie is the first one to say something.

“I get it now.”

“Get what, Annie?” Eren asks, yanking his own harnesses off.

“You’re not a good actor, Eren. I was really confused when they picked you as the lead. But I get it now. You guys have really good chemistry.” she replies, milling off.

You apologize to Levi for not following the script. He, in turn, tells you to do it more often.

After four days of filming, Eren’s more pissed than ever. Because he figured that his jealousy or possessiveness would wear off by now, that it was just because he was used to it being just him and you for the past three weeks.

And he gets why everyone wants to talk to you because they’ve all known each other for years, and you’re the shiny new toy, but do they really have to talk to you all the time?

He can’t eat ramen with you in the mornings because Sasha always begs you to make her some too. Then she’s milling around in the kitchen, asking you mindless questions while you make some for her.

He can’t do homework with you in your room because Reiner always joins - and he gets that Reiner is really bad at French, but does he always have to ask for your help with the assignments?

And he can’t even talk to you at night when he’s bored anymore. Because Mikasa’s always there too - teaching you how to braid your hair, the two of you giggle about things he doesn’t understand.

He loathes it, which is why he has the outburst that he does.

He invited you to go for slushies with him on Friday before you fly out to Cannes for the panel. But when he yanks out the tandem bike and Jean asks to go along, he can’t help but get irritated at him. So he yells at him . Like bloody murder yells at him. Which is why you and Eren quietly bike, awkwardly sharing the slushie on the bench.

“So.”

“I wasn’t going to let him come, you know? Slushies are our thing, Eren.” you respond, swirling the brown and red ice together.

“Oh. Really?”

“Well, yeah. Some things should be just ours. And I can’t help it for other things - like when Sasha asks for food, or Annie wants help with the props - but I can for this.”

Relief floods through Eren’s chest, and he smiles for the first time in five days. Thank god.

“Okay. Good.”

“Were you feeling… bad about it or something? Like I wasn’t really talking to you?” you ask, Eren not meeting your gaze and instead focusing on the geese walking across the street.

“I know you’re not like supposed to talk to me or whatever, but like. I just kind of missed you, that’s all.”

You smile, leaning your head against Eren’s shoulder.

“I missed you too, Eren.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You and Eren bike back, matching pink lips, which is just asking to get teased at this point. Ymir asks how long you and Eren were sucking your face to get lips that pink, which just pisses Eren off to no extent. Levi makes them both sit on separate sides of the plane.

“Each person answers the panel questions in sets of two or three. There are three panels, so ensure you’re with the right person for each part.”

Your first panel is with Ymir, which you lucked out on. Because the second they start asking questions, your face is burning, your throat is itching, and you can’t answer even a single one they ask you.

You’ve never really been the anxious type. You’ve acted in school plays before and performed for big crowds. But that was always low stakes in your mind. The only people in the audience were people that you grew up with, their older sisters that always compliment you on their hair, and their parents that love to take pictures with you.

This crowd is something different altogether. They’re all wildly unfamiliar, with big cameras and notepads in their hands as they scribble down every little detail they can. Before you and Ymir could even introduce yourselves, even give them something to write down or take a picture of, they were already going hard.

That’s why you feel petrified on the stage. One of the questions is literally what your name is, but for some reason, this crowd of adults with shiny cameras and notepads makes you choke. Ymir saves the day. She’s charming enough to woo them all on her own, with a few comments from you here and there throughout the panel. Every word out of your mouth feels like balmy chalk running down your throat.

Your second panel is with Mikasa and Connie, who are surprisingly a really comedic duo. They’re both so different that they complement each other really well, providing funny anecdotes from set and talking about what it’s been like to film.

Connie, much to your dismay, tells the audience that you and Eren are inseparable - so much so that he’s caught you cuddling together on set before.

That was an accident. You were just tired from shooting on set for eleven hours. You can sneak by with another comment here and there for this panel too.

But the third panel is just you and Eren. And you know you can’t choke here because you and Eren are the leads. And granted, you haven’t really been acting like a lead this entire time by squeaking once like a mouse, but it’s infinitely worse to do it now.

“What’s wrong?”

You can feel the tears welling in your eyes as Eren looks over, concern washing over his face.

“I-I can’t do this.”

“What? Why not?”

“I don’t know. I already messed it up. My entire panels I- I didn’t even say anything because I felt so weird and like- I don’t know, I just can’t be a lead role. I’m not cut out to-”

He shakes his head, yanking you forward to push you into his embrace, his arms warm. His mouth is hovering by your ear, his voice so soft that it sends shivers down your spine.

“You’re going to be fine. You’re literally everyone’s favorite person on set because you’re just the best to be around. And it’s the same thing out there, just with people you don’t know.”

“You guys…you guys have to like me. And it’s hard when they’re all looking at me.”

“Don’t look at them. Just look at me. Just pretend you and I are sitting there, and the person asking the question is me, not them.”

You shake your head, burying it deeper into his shoulder. You can feel your panic subsiding, but there’s still a bubble of anxiety right in your throat.

You and Eren walk out, Eren’s hand pressed in yours, as you sit at the table, your hands still locked together under the fabric.

He squeezes three times before starting, introducing the two of you. The first question is for you.

“Who is your favorite person on set?” asks the lady in the front.

“Um. Maybe Hange. I’ve always looked up to them for a really long time, and getting to work with them has been re-really cool.” you mumble straight into the microphone.

You look over at Eren, who feigns shock as he talks into his.

“I’m offended, Y/N. My favorite person on set is you but your favorite person on set isn’t me?” he says, the crowd laughing.

“What? You’re so full of it, Eren. If they asked you, you probably would have said Levi because he did your laundry once.”

The crowd laughs again, and Eren smiles, his eyes warm as he looks into yours.

“You’re annoying, Y/N. I’ve literally said you’re my favorite person on set on every panel. You think you’re special to someone and find out they don’t even like you that much.”

“Oh, be quiet Eren. You’re so irritating. You know I like you.”

“What was that? Say it louder for me, I didn’t really hear you.”

“I like you.”

“One more time, Y/N. Use your big girl voice.”

“I hate you, Eren. You’re not funny and you’re not cool.”

The entire crowd laughs, Eren squeezing your hand under the table as they ask him questions next. You’re doing it.

And for some reason, you’re really in awe of this side of Eren. You never figured that he was the type of guy to be really good at press since he seems so awkward and stumbly when he’s around you, but he’s…really charming when it comes to this. He’s cracking jokes, poking fun at you while answering all the questions.

“Last question. For Eren. What was your favorite scene to film?”

“There’s this scene that we filmed a few weeks ago. Y/N did some really good improv in it, and when Hange and Levi showed it to us for the first time, we were just so excited for the show to start airing. Basically, you think my character is dead, but-”

You feel your eyes widen as you clamp your hand over Eren’s mouth, stopping him from spoiling the show before it airs. And you forget that you’re on the microphone because you accidentally start berating him into the speakers.

“Eren. You’re so full of shit. Stop spoiling the show before it can even come out.”

For some reason, the entire cast finds the entire ordeal so funny that they’re clapping bloody murder for you and Eren as you deck out.

And when you get to the back of the stage, Hange’s applauding you both for doing so well and Levi’s threatening Eren with promises of masking tape on his mouth the next time he tries spoiling the show.

You’re just thankful Eren held your hand through the entire thing. You wouldn’t have been able to stomach it if he wasn’t.

The review comes out early the next day. The eleven of you huddle around the computer, you and Eren sharing a chair as you wait for Hange and Levi to return with Erwin from the airport. The man of the hour himself has finally arrived to set, meaning you can watch the review.

It’s two girls with short blonde hair on both of them as they dissect the teaser trailer Hange and Levi produced for the panels, and the individual speaks themselves.

They introduce each actor and their character, commenting on past roles, character dynamics, and how they feel about the character overall. Almost everyone gets a glowing commendation except for Armin, who they feel doesn’t look the part.

You can tell from the way Armin shifts uncomfortably in the seat that he’s a bit put off by the comment, but Jean and Marco are already coming to his defense, whispering reassurance in his ear.

“Now, onto the leads.”

You instinctively grab Eren’s hand under the table, the two of you leaning closer to the computer to listen.

“The male and female leads for Attack on Titan are Eren Jaeger and F/N L/N. Eren Jeager was in the fourteenth SHWA cohort and already has a nice plethora of credits behind him - even going as far as to have already co-starred with major parts of the ensemble. We’re sure he will be a great lead for the show, a career-defining role if he does it right.”

You squeeze Eren’s hand three times under the table, everyone patting him on the back and squeezing his shoulders in congratulations.

“We’re unsure if the same can be said for female lead F/N L/N. Upon closer inspection, head casters Hange Zoe and Levi Ackerman have chosen something a bit untraditional by not picking an SHWA-affiliated actor. We’re unsure if she can hold her own on a show with big chops like this one since she could barely handle the panels themselves. Sure, everyone has been gushing over how cute the two leads are together, but Eren can’t really carry that part of the charm for her on screen. We’re unsure how it’ll play out, but it’s feeling pretty bleak for now.”

Eren squeezes your hand under the table, but you let go altogether. And when you look back, they’re all awkwardly staring at you, Hange and Levi pinching the bridges of their nose.

“Um. I’m not in the next few scenes, actually. So I’m just going to go eat dinner if that’s okay.”

“We’ll come with you,” Mikasa responds, yanking Sasha up from her chair.

“Oh, you guys have to stay on track with filming. You shouldn’t backlog the schedule. It’s okay.”

Eren watches you walk off set alone, Hange and Levi already doing damage control on their side. Levi’s already screaming bloody murder that they have no right to say that when they have no experience in the field, and Hange’s getting ready to run off and comfort you.

“Hange. Let me come, please.”

Eren watches Hange's features contort as they shoot him down.

“Sorry, Eren. I don’t think she really wants to talk to anyone right now. And I’m just going there to sit with her till she’s ready to talk.”

“She’ll talk to me. I can sit with her, I do it all the time. We’re best friends. And I just want to come. Please, please let me go.”

“Eren. These are all your scenes. You need to stay here. I’ll let you come check on her after, okay?”

Eren watches Hange run off and angrily acts through the next seven scenes.

When he’s done on set, he basically all but sprints to your room, snatching the video camera from Levi and Hange’s office, and knocks on the door lightly. And when he sees it, he can’t tell which emotion he feels most strongly. Never mind, he’s almost positive it’s anger.

You’re lying flat under your soft blanket, Hange’s hand in your hair. He can tell that you’ve probably been crying for a better part of the day, your eyes were all swollen and pink and your nose all runny.

Eren climbs under the blanket with you, hand locking with yours under the sheets. He squeezes your hand three times, which you return as you wipe the excess liquid from your face.

“Y/N.”

“What, Hange?”

“I’m going to call your mom and tell her that you have a boy in your bed.”

You and Eren laugh, rolling your eyes at Hange as you reach up to pull on their hair. Hange hops off the bed, retreating downstairs to get make the ramen that you asked for, as you and Eren shuffle under the blanket.

“Y/N. You okay?”

And at the sound of the question, you immediately start crying again, eyes burning as you lean your head into Eren’s shoulder.

The entire thing - it’s just so fucking embarrassing above anything else. It’s already humiliating enough to get called out as one of the only bad actors in the cast. Sure, they really dug on Armin too but it wasn’t to the extent that they did it to you. And Hange said that was because you were a girl, and they’re always going to be more critical of you than him, but it sure doesn’t feel that way.

You can’t act. You can’t do press. And for some goddamn reason, you’re the one leading the show with Eren instead of someone else. Maybe it should have been Mikasa or Historia or something, they’d surely be doing a better job at this than you.

“Nothing you say is going to make me feel better, Eren. Hange’s been trying for the past few hours, but you’re all just lying to make me come back to set.”

“What do you mean?”

“You guys just feel bad that they said that about me, even if it’s true. And now that you’re stuck with me, you have to make me do it. I’ve been telling Hange - I don’t know what they saw in me even to pick me in the first place. They clearly made a mistake.”

“Hange and Levi didn’t pick you.”

“What?”

“Well, they did. But, I picked you too.”

He reaches over, grabbing the shiny black recording camera from your nightstand. He pulls his arm around yours, holding the camera a few feet away from your face as he holds the looks for the video. And when he plays it, you recognize the same soulless room you did your chemistry screening in, Eren sitting in the chair.

“So Eren. We’re picking through the last few candidates for the lead. Is there anyone you want it to be in particular?”

You can recognize Levi’s voice over the video, and you’re sure Hange has to be the one recording from how the videos wobble around so much.

“You’re going to let me pick, Levi?” Eren from the video asks, eyes wide from shock.

“We’re in between three and we can’t pick one. And this person is your co-star, you’re probably going to spend a better part of the next five to six years with them if things go well. Should be someone you like.”

“Y/N.”

Hange comes into the frame on the video, pinching Eren’s cheeks as they ask.

“That was fast. Any particular reason?”

“I don’t even remember the names of the other ones. That’s how lame they were in comparison.”

“You sure, Eren? You really want it to be her?”

“Positive. I’d even bet on it.” Eren responds, looking over to Hange.

Hange smiles, circling a name on the clipboard, turning to the camera as they speak.

“F/N L/N it is.”

The video ends, the white screen glowing back on you and Eren’s faces.

“You… you picked me?”

“Yeah. And I’m not lying to you when I’m trying to make you feel better or tell you that you’re great. Maybe Hange and Levi are, but I’m not. I’ve always thought you were great.”

You and Eren lean back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. His hand is still in yours under the blanket, warm and sweaty, but you don’t really want to let go. Eren doesn’t say much after that, but when Hange comes with dinner and he has to go back, he says one thing which such confidence that you can’t help but believe him too. That you want it to be true.

“You’re going to prove them wrong, Y/N."

next part here

taglist: @platrom @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha @daisynik7 @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @bsenpai @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @squirrelspoetry

pls comment on this post or any of the chapters if you want to be added to the taglist <3

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chycoin · 2 months

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HUGE SPOILER AHEAD!!!

Watch “TRASH FRIENDS” before reading. If you haven’t watched it and still read this, pls don’t say I didn’t warn you 🫠👍

Just watched “TRASH FRIENDS” and the thumbnail really made me think this was going to be an episode focusing on the way Mario has been treated by Smg4 and his friends (at least that’s how I see it) but I wasn’t expecting an episode about Smg3’s insecurities and fears (mostly insecurities)

I really was caught lacking because I was expecting something and I got the opposite lmao. I should be familiar with this guy’s content already and know that the only thing expected from these episodes is the unexpected xD, but anyways back to talking about the video.

In previous episodes we see that he gets a little bit of customers such as in the episode “You used to be cool” and “CEO OF RIZZ” but in this last mentioned episode he tries to advertise his café after Boopkins’s date works out in the end and so does the same in “SMG4’s NEWS.”

At first you think “Maybe he wants more than what he has” but after watching this episode you realize he’s actually struggling with his business and last weeks episode you change your view from his actions and see him as more desperate rather than greedy after watching this latest ep.

Constantly trying to get more people into his café and taking every single chance he can see to advertise no matter the place or time, like life depends on it.

And talking about chances ._.xD

(This goober losing the video to a basketball, I’m dead😭)

Smg4 comes to this guy’s café for his help to get his “Michael Jordan Endorsement Video” back because boi lost it and he wants Smg3’s help because their “FRIENDS”

Of course Smg3 saw this as a chance to advertise his café because HOLY SHIT MICHAEL JORDAD!!! A famous basketball player that anyone would want to have the chance to meet and that’s a chance that Smg3 is willing to take because it means his business would BLOW UP *someone throws them a chair*

Btw when Mario shows up to offer his help, I expected Smg4 to be more happy that he has his avatar buddy always trying to help him but instead…

Don’t get me wrong, I know they got a little weirded out about the fact that Mario is a regular around the Junkyard due to him eating at that location but still, that dialogue still sort of hurt me man qwp

But anyways back to my review of this episode and giving my acoustic povs that nobody asked for.

They arrive at the junkyard and after being there for 5 seconds, they find the legendary pokemon that goes by the name of “Michael Jordan Endorsement Video” (sorry for my weak ass jokes, I just woke up and my humor is a little broken rn)

After having the video on sight, Mario pulls a Yoshi and beats the crap out of the spaghetti plate where the video so happened to land on, in one go. Obviously, causing the other two to try and force the USB out of him but both failed as Mario did a BLJ through the trash and forcing 3 & 4 to dig through everything to find him.

Now… the part I was dying to talk about and hopefully I can let out my thoughts the proper way.

As the two spend an entire evening just digging through trash, they start a friendly conversation until Smg4 touches the Smg3’s CnB topic which causes Smg3 to get nervous and lie about everything being fine because he has something that every human being has unfortunately, ✨I N S E C U R I T I E S✨.

Which I understand because bruh, 3’s been seen as a bad copy of 4 who’s the total opposite of him for a good piece of his life, if not his ENTIRE existence and now that’s he’s going through a change in his life for the better, he’s going to face a lot of these insecurity episodes because he’s so used to being seen as the bad guy, the bad copy, The Villain. Always people seeing what 4 does and never looking what 3 does which got him into that dark path.

Is like the Sun and the Moon kind of thing. The Sun (Smg4) can shine the brightest while the moon (Smg3) is just a floating rock shining the least. I’ll bring this up again at the end of the review.

But yeah, Smg3 has insecurities and is more shown when they reach the entrance of Mario’s hiding spot.

-Part 2 🫠👍-

#smg4 #smg4 review #smg3 #smg4 smg3 #I wasn’t planning for this to be a 2 part thing

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tigertofu · 9 months

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ok i've been chipping away at this Thing for a long time and i think it's finally ready to be vomitted out into the internet. without further ado, here is my

Stupid-Long List of Trevor Headcanons

divided into chronological sections !

((the NSFW shit is hiding at the bottom))

CW's for: mentions of drugs/alcohol, addiction, cannibalism, violence, gross sex stuff. typical Trevor things

and heres a gif of him cuz ig thats the tumblr thing to do idk i never made one of these lists b4 :x

the past

• he's a scorpio and the reason he has a scorpion tat on his hand is bc he's like. very mildly into horoscopes. he was born some time in november

• he doesn't have a middle name cuz his mom didn't give enough of a shit to give him one

• despite playing hockey and golf as a kid, he was never really that into the sports themselves. he only did hockey because he saw it as a way to beat up other children and not get reprimanded for it, and he did both in the hopes of being good enough at something to earn his mother's praise for once (it did not work :()

• hates his dad bc of how he treated his mom and is glad he abandoned him at that shopping mall when he was a kid

• he (w/ Brad's help) would play "pranks" on (aka BULLY) poor Lester during the north yankton days. some fav pastimes included (but were not limited to): pantsing him, hiding his walking cane, and replacing his asthma medication with laughing gas

• was highkey jealous of how easy Michael could get girls during the north yankton days. when he actually was able to convince a girl to come back home with him, he would make sure to be loud as hell about it so that Mike would know he wasn't the only one getting chicks

• all of his hand tats and a lot of his other tats were done in prison, even tho he was only in for like 6 months

• prison was a mixed bag for him. on one hand, anal. on the other, having to restrain himself from arguments and physical altercations so he could get out early on good behavior

• went thru a breakdancing phase in the 90's (i THINK this one might be canon. idk. could've sworn i've heard him try to tell Lamar this in an attempt to impress him. pls feel free to prove me wrong or right)

• one of the scars on his eyebrows is actually the result of getting a fresh eyebrow piercing ripped tf out during a barfight in the 00's. prob for the best that it was cuz we all know that shit wouldve ended up getting infected and rejecting out of his face anyways

• he moved to Sandy Shores not just because it's nice and isolated, but because it was the place most opposite of north yankton he could think of. never any snow. he absolutely fucking hates cold weather and snow because it reminds him of a certain bank heist that happened in '04

• between Ron, Chef, and Wade, Chef was the first one he met after moving to Sandy Shores. they used to cook meth together in a trailer out in the desert (another one that i THINK is canon but im not sure idk. it all blurs together, idk whats canon and whats not anymore, my brain is too rotted from spinning Trevor around in it like the world's most dried out little shriveled husk of a rotisserie chicken for the past three years, the fog is coming, yk how it is)

• he acquired Liquor Ace the same way he "acquired" the Vanilla Unicorn. the previous owner just mysteriously disappeared one day. nobody in Sandy Shores cared tho once word got around that the new owner was gonna start cooking crystal in the upstairs and selling it

• yk how in the game he said that his heart momentarily stopped once cuz he put an axe thru a power cable? he did that cuz the power had gone out in the middle of him watching an Impotent Rage episode he hadn't seen yet. for some reason (was prob very high and very angry) he thought that he could bring the power back by hitting the sparking wire with an axe. it didnt work. he smelled like overcooked bacon for a week afterwards. he enjoyed that part tho

the present

• he makes Ron cut his hair with a pair of rusty kitchen scissors when he needs a trim. he used to go to the nice barber lady in Sandy Shores but got banned after loudly moaning about how good her nails felt on his scalp once

• once smoked an entire cigarette in one long inhale. Wade witnessed this and found it extremely impressive

• he'll eat pretty much anything but he especially likes foods with strong flavors. salty, sour, super sweet, spicy, etc cuz his taste buds are SHOT from the years of smoking/drug abuse. he abuses condiments, especially hot sauce

• thinks that any restaurant that doesn't have a drive-thru is a "fancy" restaurant

• LOVES candy cuz the meth has given him a major sweet tooth, but prefers anything with chocolate over fruity/gummy candies

• has a weird fascination with eating raw meat.....of any kind. except for sushi. he thinks sushi is "fancy prissy city people food"

• also has a weird fascination with making stews/soups similar to the eyelid one that he tries to feed Michael in that one cutscene. it's the only type of food he knows how to cook. may be a comfort thing for him because microwaving a bowl of canned soup was the most effort his mother ever put into making a meal for him when he was a kid. and she did it like, twice, maybe. he for sure remembers both times very clearly tho and considers them to be some of his fondest memories

• will go for days without eating anything solid before finally sitting down and consuming enough food to feed a family of 5. sometimes he just like. forgets that eating is necessary for survival

• can open beer bottles with his teeth. between that and the meth habit, its an absolute miracle he still has all his teeth

• go-to pizza order is a large meat lover's. he tries to make vaguely sexual passes about "loving large meat" at the poor pizza delivery guys every time he orders delivery. does not tip, but will say shit like "hey, if you come inside i've got a little tip for ya" while the delivery guy quickly vacates the premises

• honestly? i think there is a good 50/50 chance on whether or not he is ACTUALLY a cannibal. maybe he posters as one cuz he likes the reactions it incites, maybe he genuinely enjoys the psychosexual intimacy of consuming the flesh of another human being........ who knows !! not knowing is half the fun :)

• ok ok hear me out u know that stupid tiktok sound that was going around a couple years ago that goes "hi my name is carmen winstead -- HAAAAAHHHGGCHH" ??? look it up if u don't cuz that's what his snoring sounds like. the fucking "HAAAAAHHHGGCHH"

• once he's asleep he is out like a fucking light. guy could sleep thru nuclear war

• is not opposed to drinking hand sanitizer when out of other sources of alcohol. it tastes just like the shitty moonshine Ron makes in his backyard anyways and gets him even drunker so why not !

• hates horror films bc they make him angry. at least, any of the ones where somebody survives at the end. thinks the murderers in them are stupid. starts yelling shit at the TV like "HE'S GETTING AWAY YOU STUPID FUCK,, WHAT ARE YOU DOING !!!!"

• believes baby pink and orange are "his colors"

• will sit on his sofa or bed and try to shoot any cockroaches scurrying around his place with a pistol for funsies when bored sometimes

• enjoys playing darts at the Yellow Jack with anyone who'll play him but absolutely fucking sucks at it cuz of his shaky hands. accidentally threw a dart into another bar patron's head once. will rage and insist his opponent cheated when he loses. will then get physical if anyone tries to tell him its impossible to cheat at darts. is much less of a sore loser when playing with Mike, Frank, or Lamar tho he will still grumble about losing for up to hours on end afterwards

• is an illegal immigrant bc he never became a US citizen. does not own an actual ID, but has several fakes lying around, all with fake birth dates and fake names that are wildly varying levels of believable

• will absolutely flip his fucking lid if Wade comes around him while wearing Juggalo face paint

• speaking of Wade. yk how he has a shitty tattoo of his own name on his arm? (at least i think he does. i tried looking to see if he does and i couldnt tell so now im unsure if thats just yet another detail that my brain completely made up or smth that i actually saw). ANYWAYS, Trevor gave it to him (stick n poke. it was a longggg process but Wade didnt mind too much cuz he was high at the time and consented to it beforehands anyways) when Trevor first "took him in" cuz he kept forgetting his name and got tired of referring to him as "Hey, you" (which Wade did not respond to most of the time anyways)

• is an ugly crier. like, a butt-ugly crier. snot, drooling, wailing, red face, the whole nine yards and he is loud as hell about it too

• loves back rubs cuz ofc he does he's an old man. often makes Ron or Wade give him massages

• his boomer-ass super-zoomed-in LifeInvader profile pic was taken by Ron. it took them a dozen tries before they got it

nsfw

• he sucks at eating out.........kinda? but what he lacks in precision and consistency he makes up for with sheer (sloppy. slobbery) passion. and endurance. can stay down there (and will, if you let him) for hours

• is not much better at blowing. "accidentally" uses too much teeth every time

• ~4 inches. MAYBE 4.5. good girth tho. not cut

• has a thing for chubby/thicc ppl

• is a biter and won't ask before biting so uhh watch out ! part of the reason for the above is bc there's more to bite

• loooooves loves loves to suck on things. fingers, necks, tits, dicks, anything. also looooooves having it reciprocated. particularly likes shoving his fingers in your mouth

• loves to involve mouths as much as possible. spitting/being spat on, the aforementioned biting as well as being bitten, eating food off of your body or having food eaten off of him, the type of makeout sessions that involve shoving each other's tongues down each other's throats.. anything that involves mouths and/or the motions of eating drives him fucking wild

• will beg you even when not explicitly told to when he's not feeling dominant. will beg and beg and beg and beg and it's hot but can also quickly become incredibly annoying

• but he LOVES to be annoying on purpose too. via the begging, or by teasing/edging, mocking, etc. loves to get a rise out of you and loves the attention (even if negative.. ESPECIALLY if negative) it gets him

• occasionally cries after sex. will expect you to hold him while he does. will start to angry cry and say you don't actually love him if you refuse

• now ik this one is nothing groundbreaking and seems to already be the general consensus amongst the Trevor enjoyers but im gonna say it anyways. he def has a thing for public/semi-public sex. be careful about sitting next to him while in any public space. he WILL try to touch on you and it WILL be in a way that makes it obvious to everyone in the immediate vicinity what's going on. does he do it on purpose as an exhibition thing? maybe...... does he genuinely think he's being slick about it? also maybe. if ur with him, expect to be banned from multiple establishments

• lowkey has a breeding kink in the sense that he loves to finish inside (not just bc it feels nice but also bc of the intimacy of it) and thinks that pregnant women are hot as hell

• is most likely infertile due to the years of meth use tho

• loves to both overstimulate and be overstimulated. just bc you've both climaxed doesnt mean he wont keep going for god-knows-how-long

..................andd that's all she (i) wrote. ty for reading !! i've got more shit to say about Trevor cuz ofc i do but this is already like 2k words so if u wanna hear my headcanons on anything specific at all,, pls do throw it in my ask box ! <33

#trevor philips #trevor philips headcanons #gta v #trevor philips/reader #trevor philipsxreader #gtav #gta 5 #gta5 #gtav headcanons #gta headcanons #headcanons

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fourmula1 · 6 months

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For the prompt game hehe 7. Silent fury pls 🥺 (your fics are amazing btw <3)

Flufftober Day 8: Silent Fury

max/daniel. 324 words. depressed omega daniel universe.

Max doesn’t understand it. He’s never been depressed. He doesn’t know exactly what Daniel feels, but he knows how it all makes himself feel.

Silent fury.

He’s angry for what happened to Daniel last year. He’s angry that he had to watch his mate wither to skin and bone. He’s rageful for the exhaustion, bone deep, within Daniel. He’s furious that his beloved, funny, loud, energetic, golden omega has been reduced to a shadow of his former self.

He wants to put his fist in Zak Brown’s face and force him to look at Daniel and what the last year did to him.

Max loves Daniel still, anyway. Daniel can be sad, and exhausted, and withdrawn, and Max loves him anyway.

He has to have faith that Daniel will be okay; that the Daniel he fell in love with will return from this ever-present battle against himself.

That one day he’ll come home to the sound of Daniel’s bad singing in the kitchen, or he’ll want to go running with Max and Brad and Michael again, or he’ll look forward to going out for dinner like they used to.

Maybe one day he and Michael won’t be conspiring behind Daniel’s back to make sure he eats something. Possibly some day he won’t be literally forcing Daniel to get out of his depression nest and into the shower. Perhaps sometime Daniel will feel like coming with Max to a race and being in the Paddock.

Eventually, on the grid in Red Bulls together.

Max sighs as he watches his mate sleep, reaches out to card his fingers through Daniel’s dark curls. He has to have faith, and moreso, patience. He knows Daniel is trying his best. He knows Daniel’s giving everything he’s got. He knows he needs to be patient and supportive and encouraging.

It’s hard, though, watching his mate go through this. He’s got to be strong for Daniel. For them.

But it’s hard.

#flufftober 2023 #maxiel #depressed omega daniel #my ficlet

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karahofthedawn · 1 year

Note

Thinking about Fred and George’s reaction to overhearing someone from Hufflepuff quidditch team talking about Y/N and just the boys jealous reactions they would have hearing someone talk about their girl like that……and then that causing them to play extra hard and rough during the game and when they get off the pitch the poor reader is confused and innocent, but they just want to make sure she knows that she is theirs and only for them and img I can’t pls feel free to use this idea I need it

Here you go! ☺️

A cool February breeze brushes your shoulders as you climb the stands that surround the quidditch field. It was the first time since last year that you’ve been to a game. The Triwizard Tournament did take over all of the school events, but that didn’t stop the house teams from wanting to play against each other. After a discussion with Dumbledore, he gave the OK for there to be unofficial matches that anyone could attend.

You wrap your wooly black and gold scarf around your neck tightly and lean over the edge to try and catch a glimpse of the teams. It was Hufflepuff versus Gryffindor, which means you finally get to witness the Weasley brothers back in action. Slowly the crowd trickles in around you, murmurs of conversations that are immediately pushed to the back of your mind as you scan the field.

Your heart leaps to your throat as the pair of fiery haired twins come into sight. They were chatting with the other Gryffindor players with big smiles across their faces. The Hufflepuffs follow behind Cedric, who you are surprised to see. You had expected him to opt out, considering all that the Tournament put him through thus far. Yet he looks in high spirits, as always, with his head held high and strutting forward.

They pause at the edge of the field, their brooms in hand and standing proud.

—-------------------------------------------------

“Are you sure he won’t show?” Angelina Johnson asks Fred for the third time today.

“I’m sure,” he responds hastily.

They can hear the low murmur of the crowd from above as they reach the edge of the field. Clear skies with a slight breeze - a perfect day for quidditch, even if Harry didn’t want to join.

After the brothers hounded him for hours over the past week, they finally gave in once Hermoine lectured them. They knew he had his hands full with the tournament, but so did Cedric Diggory and he decided to play. He was their best chance at getting the snitch, and having Katie Bell replace him was not exactly increasing that percentage.

Angelina sighs and rubs her creased forehead. “I just thought he’d have a change of heart.”

“We tried to wear him down,” Fred says with a shrug. “Asked him about a million times.”

“Maybe even a million and one times,” George adds, then nudges his brother’s shoulder with his.

Once making eye contact, George gestures to the stands with a quick nod. Fred follows his gaze and catches a glimpse of you leaning over the stone barrier. A mixture of excitement and happiness swells in their chest as they both look at you. Your hair and scarf blowing in the wind, your arms tight against your torso. You never liked the cold, yet here you were, out to support them both. It meant more than they could ever say.

A few of the Hufflepuff players began snickering. Anthony Rickett and Michael McManus hold their brooms out, slowly rubbing the tips of them suggestively. “What I wouldn’t give to -,” the rest of the words were washed away as the crowd gave an encouraging cheer.

“Merlin’s beard, I’d give my last Galleon,” Michael laughs.

This was a background noise for the brothers, until the keyword of ‘Y/N’ is said. Both of their heads turn in automatic unison towards the conversation.

“As if you even have a Galleon,” Rickett retorts and shoots another hungry look your way. “I bet you Y/N would pay me after I’d have my way with her.”

Fred and George are both scowling, looking directly at the boys who continue laughing amongst themselves.

“She wouldn’t even look at you,” Michael taunts and swishes his hair from his forehead. “I bet you my last Knut that I could easily have her before you.”

Fred clenches his jaw, George mirrors him with closed fists. The rush of anger was beginning to rush through their veins the longer they eavesdropped. The excitement and happiness they felt just moments ago was melting away and being replaced by something else - something that made them want to run forward and smash Michael and Rickett’s head full force with their brooms.

“You really want to make that bet? I’ll try after the game,” Rickett says with a cocky smile.

Michael shakes his head. “You can try, but I’ll be sure to have her screaming my name behind the greenhouses before then.”

George’s breath catches in his throat as the imagery of you and Michael hits him. This boy’s greedy hands all over your delicate curves. Him tasting you. Him knowing how you sound when you’re trying to hold back moans. This was sacred. You were sacred to them, and he only ever wanted him and his brother to know these intimate things.

“You’re on,” Rickett snorts. “But who knows, if she’s as easy as I think, maybe she will take on both of us.” This time they both erupt with laughter, which almost sends Fred forward but George promptly stops him with a stiff arm.

Fred curses under his breath and digs his toe into the ground like an angry bull. Anger travels through his veins, his face a shade of red not too far from his hair. His pupils are tiny and fully focusing on the two who dare to speak about Y/N like that. He knew they couldn’t have you. That was never a question. But to stand there and make bets on who gets to capture you. Who gets to have you.

The twins look at each other, an understanding between them at once.

They’re going to pay.

—----------------------------------------------

The players are lining up now. You rub your hands together, breathing into them to try and bring back some warmth. Two of the boys from the Hufflepuff team kept periodically staring up your way. Surely there’s for someone in the crowd that they’re waiting for. It’s odd though, you could swear they’re looking directly at you.

Your mind drifts off as you focus back on the Weasley twins, both standing tall with an expression of determination across their faces. You take notice that they seem more serious than normal, but their competitive nature always brought out that side of them.

With a call from the announcer, both teams scatter off into the sky. The golden snitch is released and the game has begun. Rocking from the balls of your feet to the tips of your toes, you watch with a slack jaw as both brothers go rocketing across the field with their bats held with whitening knuckles.

Not too long after it starts, George hits a bludger off of a post and misses Michael McManus’s head by inches. Still trying to comprehend the close call, Michael was almost thrown off his broom by Fred who slams into the side of him.

“Watch it!” Michael yells shakily, then takes off to prevent Angelina from scoring.

The bludger finds Rickett this time as Fred hits it directly at him, making contact with his ribs. There is a loud thump and the announcer audibly groans with the crowd.

The ball wasn’t even on that side of the field, yet he was chasing down this now injured player who was desperately trying to flee.

George on the other hand was with Angelina, safely allowing her to score a point. The students around you burst out with a mixture of applause and booing. You clap and jump up and down with the fellow Gryffindors, leaving the Hufflepuffs eyeing you with judgment.

George zooms by so close that your hair blows like mad and curtains over your face. You quickly shake the knotting strands out of your sight just in time to see him practically kick Michael off his broom. Your attention is then immediately brought back to Fred, who was red faced and charging at a screaming Rickett. In the middle of the field was a dumbfounded Angelina, who was watching this unfold with wide eyes.

For the rest of the match, the players were just merely blurs. The Weasley twins are smacking bludgers left and right at the Hufflepuff players, leaving them very little time to plan. From the short period of times the messy haired gingers go stationary, you could see their eyes narrow and focused.

You hold your breath as Katie Bell dives and grabs the snitch in one quick swoop from right under the nose from Cedric. The Gryffindor student erupts into cheers. You join in, clapping and calling out to Fred and George who ceased chasing the Hufflepuff beaters.

They were getting closer. You assume they probably want to take in the applause, they earned it after all.

It isn’t until their brooms were only a few feet away, you realize that they were staring directly at you. Your chest blooms with excitement as they dismount their brooms and push past the crowd to meet you. With their arms outstretched, you run to them and fall into their warm arms.

“You were great!” You exclaim while smiling up at them.

Fred’s eyes dart to your lips and he dives in for a kiss. His soft hair brushes your face as he tilts you back, deepening his hungry kiss. The students around you holler and clap, making your cheeks turn scarlet red.

Once he pulls back, George takes you by the hips and replaces his brother’s mouth with his. You gasp from surprise, and he responds by rolling his tongue gently against yours. You fall into him completely, not caring what anyone else thinks.

Fred makes eye contact with Rickett and Michael and tilts his head with a devilish grin. Their jaws drop and they quickly fly off to the other side of the field.

You ask once George breaks the kiss, “what’s all this for?”

“Because we wanted to,” he says sweetly, placing a kiss on her forehead.

“And we wanted to thank our good luck charm,” Fred adds.

You rub your flushed cheek as you look between them. “Oh,” you say simply, falling short of any words that would cover how much you love hearing that.

“And,” Fred says, taking your hand in his shaking grasp. “Now everyone knows that you’re ours.”

Your mouth runs dry. Your heart pounding in your chest almost deafens the loud chattering around you. “Yours?”

“If you’ll have us, that is,” George says with a snicker. You take him by the collar of his shirt and stand on your tippy toes to kiss him. His lips are inviting and intoxicating, forget that there’s an audience until he stops you. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

You roll your eyes and look between the two of them. “It’s what I’ve always wanted.”

“Perfect,” Fred beams, giving you one last kiss before walking to his broomstick with George following behind. “We will catch up to you soon.”

“There’s something to attend to, and I believe it will leave us with a few extra Sickles.” George explains with a wink.

They take off in the same direction as Rickett and Michael, leaving you confused but with your heart filled to the brim with happiness.

#fred and george weasley #george weasley #fred weasley #george weasley x hufflepuff!reader #harry potter fanfiction

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callmewrinkles3 · 1 year

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Come Back, Be Here - DR3 x Fem!OC

Masterlist

Summary: One race until the end of the season, and one race until Dan gets to go home for New Years and six weeks of family time. But he and Emmy are facing their longest separation since 2018, and neither of them are facing the truth of what it means.

Words: 7.2k

Warnings: Abu Dhabi 2021, angst (it’s this series what do you expect), explicit smut (18+ only pls!), mentions of breaking laws in Middle Eastern countries.

AN: We had to share something for the DannyRic GP, and why not the moment that started the downward spiral for these two? We are aware that they probably wouldn’t get in trouble for being physically affectionate in public, but Em sticks to the rules and is a worst case scenario person so here we are. We hope you enjoy! Alex and Cíara xx

December, 2021

This leg of the race calendar was punishing. It didn’t give you a moment to breathe, three double headers in a row. And hardest of all for Dan, the last three races were in the Middle East.

He’d learned more about the human rights side of things, but he’d never consider himself well educated on it. He’d talked to other drivers, looked online, all of that. But on a purely selfish level Middle Eastern races meant that he and Em were back to their old pattern of separate hotel rooms, one of them slipping out of the others at the crack of dawn so they weren’t caught sharing. It was stupid and illogical and he missed the feeling of getting to wake up slowly with her half sprawled across him, of soft kisses and slow sex to get ready for the day.

Instead it was mumbled goodbyes and kisses on her forehead. Qatar wasn’t too bad, they finished the race and got to head back to Europe. He spent more time on the sim, trying to get to grips with how the car reacted and bring back some of the magic from Monza. And then he’d go home and open up the door of that little flat to see Em on the couch still working away, or she’d arrive in just after him from Blake’s with a smile and a “I was asked to remind you the walls are thin, please don’t make me scream tonight again.” She always blushed and he grinned, kissing it away and wrapping her in a hug to put aside the mixed feelings he had about McLaren.

But they were in Saudi Arabia and he fucking hated it here. He hated that for the next two months he couldn’t hold Em’s hand. He couldn’t wake up beside her in bed. That he’d get on the plane to Perth and she’d be left behind because she was going back to London and he didn’t want to do it.

Originally how late the calendar ran because of covid was perfect. They would arrive into Perth just as the major restrictions would be lifted, the hotel was booked for two weeks, they’d be home just after Christmas. It would work. And then the rules changed and it was citizens and spouses of citizens only and there was no way around it. They were in Austin when they got the news, cancelling the flight for Em with tears.

It was just after the race in Saudi, sitting in his driver room and wanting to head back to the hotel when Michael walked in. Everything was ready and he stood, but one look from Michael made him sit and stay quiet.

“Are you gonna ask Em to marry you so she can come home with us?”

He thought he was about to laugh at the question, but Michael’s face was sincere.

“Mate, no. God I wish I could. But no. I have a plan, and her thinking that I’m only asking her so she can come is not in it. I wouldn’t do that to her.”

“You have a plan? Shouldn’t you at least go on a couple of dates? Have dinner out like a couple? Work out if it’s what’s gonna happen?”

He could see the surprise on his best mate’s face, watching as Dan took a deep breath and stretched out his back. He’d had the plan since the four of them were in lockdown together on the farm, when Em got off the wooden lounger she was sharing with him to get four more beers. He sat there, took the last gulp out of his bottle, and said “I’m going to marry her some day. Emmy’s the one. She’s it.”

Emmy had come back and curled on his chest again before they could say anything else, sitting there in the cooling night air while he ran his hand up and down her arm. It was perfect and he knew that was it, she was the one. The ring was sitting in his bag waiting for the right moment.

“Mate I know it will. We live together. We do dates when we have our Italy trips, and she still hasn’t forgotten I owe her for Lake Como last year because I won Monza instead. We don’t need dates.”

“Just take her on one. Mate, seriously, take her out. Do it properly.” The insistence was weird, it was never how Mike usually was. In fairness he and Blake usually stayed out of whatever he and Emmy were doing, unless it interrupted Blake’s sleep and he got an angry text. They’d gotten a lot better at not doing that though.

“Did she tell you something? Why are you making a big deal about this? I know what I’m doing.”

“She hasn’t said anything, but just…I see the way the two of you look at each other. You’re not gonna see her for six weeks, and I’m pretty sure the last time the two of you went that long without seeing each other was that gap between her coming to Monaco and whatever the race she went to after in 2018. Take your girl on a date and make sure she’s your girl.”

“I fucking can’t!” He was louder than he meant to be, opening and closing his hand and standing up. The fucking “cultural norms” and rules that meant they couldn’t do it. If they were just tourists then yeah, maybe. But there’d be cameras and people would see and he wouldn’t put it past a government to make an example of them.

“Why not? It’s easy. “Hey Em I’m in love with you and have been probably since I brought you to Perth for the first time, lets go for dinner before we spend six weeks apart.” That’s all you have to say. She’ll say yes.”

“Because we’re in the Middle fucking East. I’m not even supposed to get in a car with her, let alone be in public with her alone. And it’s pretty public that we’re not married so we can’t risk it. And don’t remind me that it’s gonna be fifty one days without her. That’s how long it’ll be till I see her once we get on that plane.”

“Dan…” But he was on a roll, finally able to explain everything that had been so painful to think about.

“We break so many rules in so many countries just to be able to sit at each others sides. I can get in trouble for sitting by her side in the car, holding her hand. It’s my thing every single day to be with her in the car. It’s our thing to go on ride to get to be alone for a minute before the rest of the world gets me. I can’t even stay in the same room as her if there isn’t someone there. I’m not supposed to go to bed hugging the girl of my dreams. Do you know the risk that I take every single time I sneak out of her room? The danger she’s in? There’s literal fucking morality police here. And every night we decide fuck it, it’s worth it and I just hug her tighter because it could turn into a living nightmare for her. So please. Don’t ask me “why not” like it’s some simple question because it’s not. There’s nothing I want more than that.”

It was quiet as Dan took a breath, the reminders of last year and the way they worried as he got back into the car after watching Romain escape the flames hit him again.

“Remember Bahrain last year? The way I hid in my drivers room with her?” Michael nodded. “That could have gotten us arrested for just being alone together and all that happened was she held onto me and stopped me from wanting to scream. The fact that we’re here so we have to do this? We have to pretend that it’s ok not to even get to hug each other? I’d kill for a podium, or even imagine a win, but then she couldn’t hug me. It’s backwards and it’s fucked and yeah I’m rich and white so we’d probably be fine but it’s not worth the risk. We do it anyway. Because we have to.”

“Mate. I’m sorry.”

“Just please. I have a plan. When we move into the new place I’m gonna talk to her about admitting everything. And next time she’s able to come to the farm I’m gonna propose. I’ve had the ring for a year. A little longer isn’t going to hurt.”

“As long as you know what you’re doing. I trust you, but don’t hurt her. Don’t hurt yourself.”

“I won’t. We’ll be good. She knows me better than I know myself.”

They nodded at each other and left the room, Blake and Em standing outside the hospitality with a few feet between them. Instead the four walked out to a car available for them to go back to the hotel. Ten days till the flight to Perth. He had to make the most of them.

—

Once they arrived in Abu Dhabi Em was counting down. They got in on Monday ahead of most of the rest of McLaren, checking into the hotel and getting their rooms. She had the emails and went to the counter, getting the keys and pointing out the boys across the lobby and the ridiculous amount of luggage they all travelled with. Travelling light was not a thing Formula One did.

The four envelopes were slid over, Em taking them and checking the keys. The little printed labels with their names were the same as in nearly any other Hilton, but seeing Dan’s on his own and hers on her own made her so frustrated.

She knew she’d been putting off thinking about the flight home after the race. Until they got to the airport she could pretend they were getting on the same plane, holding hands over the little divider like they did so often, curling up in bed and look at new apartments. They had months left on their self imposed timeline of the summer break, her lease was month to month, but they wanted this. A place that was theirs felt right for once.

“You ok?” Dan asked when Blake and Michael had gone up to their rooms. They were sitting on opposite sides of a coffee table, each fiddling with the envelope in their hands. The evening was a free one before the chaos of the final race of the season began. Both titles coming down to one race? It wasn’t going to be pretty.

“Yeah. Just…yeah.”

“It sucks.”

“It really sucks.” She smiled wistfully, trying to get herself together. They still had time. They weren’t leaving till Tuesday night, Lando agreeing to do the final day of tyre testing so Dan could make it home. The offer was there for Em to fly home early, as if that would happen. She hadn’t let them book her on an earlier flight to London. It wasn’t worth having a little less time with her boys.

“I just hate being apart. I hate not getting to share a room with you. Not even getting to give you a hug in public. I know it’s stupid, but this week?”

“It’s not forever.” Dan sounded different and she looked up at him, watching him search for his words. “After we move, y’know? Next year. We find the apartment and we move in and then we can figure out the rest.”

“That sounds really good.”

Their rooms were at least on the same floor, and she handed Dan the spare card for her room, watching him grin as she did. She went in and did her usual unpacking routine - toiletries in the bathroom, her planned clothes for the circuit hanging up neatly, checking the locks worked and the mirrors were real after one too many TikTok’s that terrified her. Her final step was putting her pillow on the bed, the habit Michael had made her pick up after one too many complaints about her awful sleeping habits. It didn’t particularly help, but she did it anyway.

They’d gotten in late, but there was only a one hour time difference. The room service menu looked good, a lamb kofta and lemon tart for dinner. The food arrived not long after she ordered and she settled at the desk to eat.

Three minutes later there was a knock at the door and it opened, Dan coming in with his own plate. A kiss to her head before he sat down with his steak, Em watching as he cut in and smiled at how it was cut.

“You’re a simple boy, eh Dimples?” She asked, enjoying how the first nickname she gave him that drunken night had stuck.

“I’ve got you and a steak, what else could I possibly want Emmy?”

“You know you don’t need to charm me, right?” He held out a forkful of peppers for her, in return she gave him some fries.

“But if I want to?”

“Then by all means, but don’t expect magic. I didn’t bring anything fancy considering what customs here is like.” The last time she’d brought anything involving what she considered her nice underwear was in 2019 when her luggage had been searched. She wasn’t doing that again.

They ate in mostly silence, Dan leaving only to put his room service cart outside his door and hang the do not disturb sign on it. Once he was back they got ready for bed, another episode of Criminal Minds on TV as they cuddled and got comfy. Em couldn’t tell you what happened, instead lulled to sleep by Dan’s fingers in her hair and a kiss against her forehead every few minutes.

The next few days passed, and she could see the seething rivalry between Red Bull and Mercedes was going to spill over. Thing were tense in the paddock, she’d never felt an atmosphere like it. Her first two years were a party mode, people glad a season was over, relaxing and looking forward to the break. Last year was covid and weird. But this felt strange.

She was sitting having coffee with Britta on Thursday morning before media really kicked off and asked her the magic question.

“Has a final race been like this before? It feels…weird.” The other woman laughed, checking her watch and taking a sip before answering.

“2016. 2012 a little, but we won so I kind of forget it. Things didn’t feel as poisonous then. Everyone knew unless Sebastian didn’t finish he’d probably win, so that was the aim. But 2016 was rough, and we weren’t near Mercedes then. It’s going to be interesting.”

“Definitely.” She wanted to see Dan at the top of the standings, wanted to see him race and race well. But this felt weird. She’d known Max just out of his teens, focused and sure and cocky. Lewis had become a friend. It was weird calling him that, but it was how things were.

Seeing Dan finish out of the points wasn’t great, but it was over and the season was done. The safety car finish that wasn’t a safety car finish, the way it all ended up left a weird taste in her mouth. Em had no loyalty to any team despite the friendships she’d made with people across both of them. Splitting the trophies felt just. But it was still strange. That night they all went to a party held by someone, drinking and dancing. In the rented out room it felt safe to be near Dan, but as soon as they were leaving for the hotel it was that gap between them. Into the provided car and through the lobby and up to her room, Dan stepping in behind her and pinning her against the wall. The sex was fierce and frantic and desperate, both of them putting everything they had into it. Dan rubbing against her, filthy words falling out of his mouth about how she looked, how she felt, how good she was as she begged him for more and more until they were seeing stars and clutched together.

Monday was promo. Em sat at the side of the garage with her iPad, already slotting in dates for the following season. Her earplugs were carefully in her ears as she watched the filming happen, content for the off season between Lando and Dan. It was exhausting, but the season was over. So many flights and hotels and this and that and the other. They’d done the maths and realised they spent more time in hotels than their bedroom during the season. She wanted to go home.

But she didn’t. She didn’t want to be in the cold London apartment alone. She didn’t want to sit on their couch and hit her leg off the coffee table Dan hated. She didn’t want to put his helmet on the shelf alone. They had a ceremony for it, Dan’s arms around her as she slid it into its new home. But their time together was ticking away shorter and shorter and she didn’t want to think about it. So she pulled up the latest apartment listings he’d sent to see if any of them suited. And then frowned when she realised he was looking in his rental bracket, not hers.

“Penny for them?” Blake asked, slipping into the chair across from her. She made herself smile up, hitting the lock button on the iPad and closing the case.

“Not a lot. Looking at apartments, wondering what the hell Danny is thinking of with some of them. I told him my budget.”

“And you know Dan. He wants the perfect place. You two doing ok?”

“There’s no us two, Blake.” Her words were short but she’d had enough of everyone saying they were together.

“Tamothy you’re either being wilfully or deliberately blind. He worships the ground you walk on. You’re moving in together. I live beside you, I hear too much.”

“We’re moving into a two bedroom.” She took a breath before continuing, letting that sink in. “Dan and I are…we are complicated and messy but he is my best friend. He knows me better than anybody else does. And whatever is going on with us is between us. You know I love you, you know you’re my brother, but you have to let this be between us. Ok?”

She took a sip of the iced tea beside her, stretching out her shoulders and arms the way Michael had instructed her to every half hour she was typing away. Blake looked like he was going to say something but Dan arrived over, grinning and wearing yet another OKX shirt.

“Did you take a look at the listings? I really like the SE1 one, it’s got balcony views over the Thames. If you can view when you’re back we can do the deposit?” He took her bottle and half emptied it, handing it back to Em who took another sip before looking up at him.

“I saw, except it’s five times the budget we said. Dan, seriously.”

“Emmy we can afford it. If we decide to do a budget by income like we should it’s me covering most of the expenses. Have a look at it?” He tried widening his eyes but she was immune from them. Mostly.

“No. We’re looking in the price range you and I set. Then if we can’t find anything that suits we’ll go higher. Understood?” He nodded. “This shoot is only supposed to be another twenty minutes, how’s it going?”

“My part’s nearly done. What’s next?”

“You get a full thirty minutes for lunch if you’re on time. Then it’s a couple of Android ads. I got them to give Blake a Pixel phone and tablet so you can look like you use them all the time instead of being the Apple geek we know you are. Once that’s done it’s a Gulf Oil pre-tape, a couple of holiday messages to record - Christmas, New Years, Lunar New Year because that’s before you’re back from Australia - and then you’re mostly done for the day. Apart from the Pirelli test meeting at five. That’s just going over the tires for tomorrow, the aim, introduce you to how the mule cars will work. That kind of thing.”

“You are my calendar countess, thank you Emmy! Going back to work now, are you both getting lunch then?”

“I’ll drag her from her desk!” Dan grinned at Blake’s response before jogging back. Once he was gone Blake stared at Em with wide eyes. “You drank from your bottle.”

“And?” She waved her hand at the papaya insulated metal bottle she carried with her everywhere. Water usually, but in hotter places it was iced tea with ice cubes carefully prodded through the lid. Everyone regularly in the garages had one.

“You never do that. I saw you nearly slap Michaels hand away for doing it. But you let Dan who was sweaty from being under huge lights all morning drink out of it and you drank out of it straight away.”

“So? It’s not a big deal.” It wasn’t. She was sanitary, that was all. Dan’s tongue was in her mouth most days, it wasn’t a big deal to share a water bottle. She forced Blake’s words out of her mouth as she started planning the 2022 Ric3 release schedule, only interrupted by going for lunch before spending the rest of her day on it. That night she didn’t do her usual day before checkout routine, instead curling up in bed with Dan for a lazy make out session before they went to sleep.

The next morning Em stopped packing and looked up at Daniel, watching him pace around the hotel room that he hadn’t left that morning, needing the extra time with her. He was more anxious than usual before getting in the car.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” She pulled his chin down so he stared at her before getting on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. “You’re going to be fine. I promise.”

“I just wish you were going to be in Perth with us. The kids miss you and want to see you, Mum and Dad keep bugging me that I have to be able to do something to get you in. We could do Melbourne or Sydney and spend it—“

“And you’d spend it away from your family when the entire reason you’re going back to Oz and spending fifteen days in a very small hotel room with Mikey is to see them. It sucks. It completely sucks that we’re going to be apart for two months. It sucks that we’re not spending Christmas together when we’ve spent almost every day of the last two years together. But you need to see them.” She couldn’t help the tears falling at her words, the realisation that she had to spend so much time away from her boys hitting her. They’d been her entire life, but they needed to see the other people who loved them even though she couldn’t go. She and Dan had poured over the regulations but had come to the same conclusion. She wasn’t Australian, she wasn’t married to an Australian, so she couldn’t enter Western Australia. None of Dan’s connections could get the restrictions lifted, even though she’d asked him not to try. He still had because of course he had.

“Emmy, don’t cry.” He sat on the bed and pulled her close, cradling her the same way they’d curl up on a jet together. Mike would be at the door any minute telling him to get his ass downstairs, testing was starting soon, but he didn’t care. She came first.

“I’m sorry. I just…ugh. I want to be there. I miss everyone. I want my big hug from everyone and the reminder to eat up because we don’t settle down in one place enough. I want to spend a day cooking with Grace and Michelle and getting shown the recipes she doesn’t trust you with. It’s just not fucking fair.” Dan’s hand ran through her hair, pushing kisses to her forehead as he soothed her. Seven fucking weeks. Fifty one days. It was the longest they’d spent apart since she’d gone to Barcelona in 2018.

“None of this is fair. I’ll come back to London, we can spend Christmas in the flat and start looking for our new place. I don’t want you alone for it or having to get the train to Liverpool.”

“You’re going to Perth. You already paid the stupid amount of money for hotel quarantine, we both know you don’t have a choice. I’ll be fine.”

She nearly convinced herself as she got off his lap the moment before Mike came into their room, wiping her eyes and picking up her tablet before joining them in the car. Blake had told her to take the day off, but there was already dates for sponsor videos and the next car launch, and some stupid OKX campaign involving Dan as a magician that she thought was ridiculous but she’d seen how much money they were personally paying him so it had to happen. While Dan drove laps around Yas Marina to put the season that had the highest highs and the lowest lows behind them she worked, tapping away at the keyboard with more force than she intended.

“What did the poor machine do to you?” She turned at the American accent, Zak Brown standing behind her looking her up and down. Emmy shook her head and put her press smile on.

“Decided to push more things onto a schedule than there’s hours in the day. What can I do for you, Mr Brown?” The older man’s expression was smarmy and she dreaded what he was about to say.

“We need Daniel to drive tom—“

“No.”

“You didn’t let me finish.”

“You want Daniel to drive tomorrow morning instead of doing the full run today. That’s not going to work. He’s booked on a flight to Perth at three in the morning and is booked into his hotel quarantine for when he arrives in Australia. This is non negotiable.” She wasn’t afraid to stand up to Brown anymore, not after the rumour Carmen had slipped her he’d spread.

“Lando can’t drive in the morning, he’s booked on a flight then.”

“I don’t care.” She stared at him, taking a breath before speaking. “Lando’s family is in England and he was able to spend most of 2020 and basically all of 2021 with them. They were able to be at races with him. Dan hasn’t seen his family since April last year apart from FaceTime, and thanks to the season running so late this year he’s already missing Christmas and Boxing Day with them. He’s not delaying seeing them by extra time. Plus, there’s flights to London nearly every hour, Lando can get any one of them. Dan’s flight isn’t changing. Don’t ask again.”

“And if I ask him to?” She hadn’t realised the car had pulled back into the garage, Dan making a beeline for his manager’s assistant and the CEO speaking in harsh whispers at the back of the garage.

“If you ask me to what?” He swallowed part of the protein smoothie Mike had handed him while waiting for Zak to speak.

“I was telling your little assistant here that Lando needs to go back to London tonight to see family, so I need you to do tomorrow morning’s testing session. She told me you wouldn’t do it, but I know you will, right?” Emmy looked at Dan, dreading his response

“I can’t. I’ve organised hotel quarantine with the WA government, I’ve paid for it. If I’m not on that flight then I miss my quarantine spot and there’s no guarantee I’ll get another one. Lando told me yesterday afternoon he was fine about it, he had plans to spend Thursday golfing in Dubai before flying home. If Emmy says something about my schedule then that’s my schedule, she’s the one who keeps all that.”

They were a united front, and she could feel the heat radiating from his sweaty race suit just behind her. Instead of leaning back like she wanted she stayed still to watch Brown take in Dan’s words.

“Ok. We’ll make it work. Dan, Emmy.” He turned to walk away, but Emmy stopped him.

“Mr Brown?”

“Yes?”

“It’s Emma, if you don’t mind. Only certain people call me Emmy, I’d like to keep it that way.”

They watched him walk out of the garage towards hospitality and it took Dan less than five seconds to grab her hand and pull her back to his drivers room.

“Dan?” She asked once he’d closed the door, pushing her against it.

“That was fucking hot. Making sure I get to go? Standing up to him? Not letting him call you the name I gave you? Hot as hell.”

His lips dropped to her neck, tracing the length of the silver chain she always wore until he reached the number three on it. It was her birthday present from 2018, given to her during the summer break. Just weeks after they’d decided to be friends who slept together.

She hated the word friends.

“You have to eat. And drive. We can’t right now.”

“At the hotel? I want to say goodbye to you properly. Two months is too long.”

“I know, Babe. I know.”

She pressed open mouthed kisses to his jaw before pushing him slightly, pulling her ipad to her as she perched on the little desk before Mike arrived back. They were the picture of professionalism, apart from Dan’s pinkie running up and down her thigh.

When he was back in the car she had her last meeting with Michael, the two of them running through the final plans for the online platform over the winter, the pre recorded information ready to go.

“You doing ok?” Michael asked and she nodded, trying to smile. “Really?”

“I will be. It’s just gonna be weird spending time without the three of you. Dan and I haven’t been apart since we were all in lockdown.”

“Any news about you and Dan?”

“Gossiping, much?!” She tried laughing, not letting her worries show. “He’s my guy, he’s my best friend. Whatever the media or anyone says doesn’t matter. Danny knows more about me than anyone else.”

“You know we’re on your side.”

There was nothing else she could say to that. Fortunately Dan appeared out of the car, changed but unshowered.

“Winter break, here we come! I’m thinking hotel to nap, and then we can get food before we change and head to the airport? Book the restaurant for eight thirty?” Dan’s curls were wild and he still had the balaclava marks on his cheeks that Em loved to kiss off his face. Instead she stood up, adjusting the bright orange shirt as she picked up the last few things she had.

“Yeah, works for us. Make sure we’re all packed up so we can just grab them and go straight to the airport. Who’s driving? Emmy?”

“Nah, not tonight. I’m too tired, and considering the way things are around here a woman driving a car full of men?” She smiled, Blake and Mike realising the excuse she wasn’t saying.

“I’ll drive. Be fine. Let’s head back.” Blake shepherded them out, everyone saying goodbye to the team they’d worked with for the year. Em checked her watch, eleven hours until she’d have said goodbye to her boys for two months, and she wasn’t ready.

The drive back to the Hilton was quick. Mike took the passenger seat without asking leaving her and Dan holding hands in the back. When they were in the garage they waved goodbye, everyone going to their room and agreeing to meet later for dinner. Once the door to their room was closed Dan pulled her close, his hands half lifting her as her legs wrapped around his waist when she jumped.

“Dan,” Em groaned, holding onto his shoulders.

“Ive got you baby girl, I’ve got you. I promise I’ve got you.” His lips moved further down her neck as he pulled the team shirt off her body to reveal a new pink bra. “For me?”

“Wanted to look pretty for you, give you something to remember.”

“You say that like I could ever forget you.”

She was lost in the sensations, both of them shuffling clothing off in a desperate attempt to be closer. Dan’s fingers slid through the matching underwear, long digits brushing through the wet folds.

“Dan I need more. Please?” Her hips bucked up and he laid her on one of the beds in the room, hovering over her.

“I’ve got you, Emmy. I’ve always got you.” Dan’s brown eyes were clear, the depths of emotion starting. She gasped as he entered her fully, filling her to the hilt in that way she knew so, so well. Every single time they slept together it felt right, Dan stretching her perfectly. She rolled her hips and smirked at the groan he let out, taking the hint to move.

Never ask Emmy what he did in those moments, the way he moved and brought her to her first orgasm, and then her second. They were chasing their highs together, lips clashing and his thumb rubbing circles around her clit just above where she was so gloriously full.

“Let me feel you, Emmy. So perfect right like that, let me feel how good you feel.”

“Danny…Danny please babe, just there please.” She couldn’t tell who came first, the two of them hitting their climax at nearly the same time.

The last thing she wanted was for him to pull out and move, to remind her that their time together was getting shorter and shorter and they’d have to say goodbye soon. Dan seemed the same way, pushing kisses to her chest before being forced to move. Getting cleaned up after sex was easy for them now, but instead he lifted her up and carried her into the bathroom, ignoring Emmy’s complaints.

“Dan! Put me down! PUT ME DOWN!! What are you doing?!” She called, trying to wriggle out of his tight grip.

“Bath. If we don’t get one for a while I want a proper one. We don’t have wine, but we can relax for a little while. Please?” She could never say no to his big brown eyes, reaching up to kiss his cheek.

“Sounds perfect.”

The tub in the suite was large enough for both of them, Em leaning back into his arms in the hot water. Every so often she felt Dan push a kiss to her head, smiling at the movement.

“Are you going home for Christmas?” He asked and she fought but failed to stop her body going stiff. “Shit, sorry.”

“It’s fine. London’s as much home as anywhere else, either there or Monaco or Perth. But no, I’m staying away from Liverpool. I didn’t even get a text asking what I was doing for it this year.” The realisation that she hadn’t gotten anything after her happy birthday text in August hurt a little, but she just relaxed into Dan again.

“I’m sorry. It’s not fair.”

“None of it is, but it’ll be fine. I’ll curl up, take care of Blake’s plants, get your schedule for the start of next year done. Who knows, I might use some of the ridiculous salary you pay me and take a holiday. Chloe said she and Scotty are spending New Years in Switzerland. She doesn’t want me to be lonely.”

“They’re good friends. You should go. Don’t spend it all alone in the flat without me. I might look up some places for us? I’ll find some that are in your price range, I promise.” She leaned back against him to relax before she replied.

“That’s the plan Roomie.” The moving in talk gutted her every time he brought it up. As friends. Friends who slept together and were intimate together and who loved each other so much it hurt to be separated.

“I’ll see what I can find. Somewhere with lots of light and a balcony I think.”

“Sounds perfect.”

She could have fallen asleep there but the alarm she’d set went off, making her stand up as Dan ran his fingers down her legs.

“Emmy…”

“No, Danny. We need to get ready. Once we leave here you know what the rules are.” The stupid unmarried couple UAE rules. The reason she insisted she stood between Blake and Mike for most of the time they were outside, because if she and Danny were beside each other holding hands was the least they usually did.

“You know, right?” His voice was plaintive, Em dropping a kiss to the top of his head.

“I know. I know you do but y’know, right?”

A squeeze of her hand was the only response.

Dinner was fun, the four of them at the table, laughing and joking. The time of year and what was about to happen was strictly off limits for discussion, as was the safety car that had fucked up Dan’s chance of points in the last race. Instead they talked about watching other teams do tyre testing, Kimi’s retirement party that the guest of honour had left after twenty minutes, the way teams had shaped up for the next season.

“Yeah I’m surprised Haas kept Mazepin, but I guess money talks.” Blake gestured with his fork as he spoke, Em rolling her eyes.

“Just keep him away from me next year, ok? I…yeah. The rumours are bad enough. He creeps me out.”

“Did he do anything?” Dan put his cutlery down and looked at her, Em shaking her head immediately.

“He didn’t get the chance. But he knows exactly where to go to find certain people, he knows what to do. Nothing I can report and say is inappropriate, but enough that I can tell he knows he’s crossing the line. It fucking sucks. And I can’t prove it but he was spreading the worst of the rumours over the summer.” She twirled spaghetti around her fork, eating it before she could say anything else. Spending time with Mick trying to badly teach her German generally meant Mazepin was around and she hated that.

“If anything happens.” An eyebrow raise told her the rest.

“I know what to do.” She took the chance to run her foot along his calf, making sure he could feel how calm she was. She wasn’t ruining the last part of her day with her boys with crap.

The drive to the airport was fine. Two cars had been ordered because of the law that she wasn’t supposed to be in a car with any of the boys, but instead of her slipping into one of the SUVs alone Dan got in opposite her. The driver was discrete and kept quiet, Em and Dan holding hands for the entire drive to Dubai. The hour passed too quickly, and they arrived ready to go in the dark night.

Check in and security was quick, Em picking up a few things in the duty free shopping. Once they were ready the four of them went to the Emirates lounge, settling into a corner. Mike and Blake took the outer seats so she and Dan could be beside each other, a glass of champagne for everyone on the low table between them.

She couldn’t stop the tears from flowing now, the clock past midnight and the realisation she was saying goodbye to them. Her fingers were linked with Dan’s and they were silent, three occasional squeezes the only form of communication between them. She could tell when Blake and Mike noticed what was happening, their nudges between each other. Em held her breath, but then Dan realised what was happening and pulled her in.

“We can’t,” Em gasped out, worried about what would happen if anyone saw.

“I don’t care. Emmy, you need some comfort. This isn’t…fuck. Fuck it all. I’m done. I’m going up and changing my flight, I’m going to London. How the hell am I supposed to leave you like this? I don’t want you to be alone.”

“You can’t.”

“Watch me.”

“Danny, you can’t.” She looked up at him and made him stare at her, fixing his gaze with her own. “You haven’t seen your family in more than eighteen months. You’ve got your hotel quarantine ready to go. They’re holding Christmas dinner until you’re out of quarantine and can see them all. You have to go.”

“I don’t want you to be alone.” He squeezed her hand three times but she could see his resolve breaking.

“I’ll be ok. We’ll FaceTime every couple of days. But look here.” She lit her phone screen, showing him the photo of her, Isaac, and Isabella from Christmas 2019 when the kids were so much smaller and a pandemic was barely a thought. “Those kids are so excited to see their uncle Dan again. You have a full suitcase of presents waiting to be loaded. Grace is dying to hug her boy and she and Joe just want to congratulate you for Monza. You have to go.”

When Dan pulled her into a hug she knew she’d won, and the two of them stayed curled up in a chair like that together. Mike and Blake moved chairs so nobody could see them as a just in case, but Dan held her and Em breathed in his scent deeply. Fifty one days. She could do this.

“Passengers for Emirates flight EK 420 to Perth, First Class is boarding shortly. Please proceed to the boarding gate for transport to your plane.”

She went to stand at the announcement but Dan didn’t let her go, squeezing her tight.

“Another minute. Please?”

“Ok.”

They got another three before Blake shook Dan’s shoulder to get them to move.

“Mate, we have to go. C’mon.”

Em forced an all too fake smile on her face as she hugged her boys, Michael holding her close for a moment.

“Look after yourself,” she murmured, watching as he nodded seriously.

“And I’ll look after him for you, Wiggle. I’ll email you those new video ideas and we can see what works?”

“Perfect.”

Hugging Blake was the same, arms wrapped around her as he pushed a kiss to the top of her head.

“Wish you were coming back with us. If we could…”

“It’s not your fault. Blame Australia. Gonna miss you Blakey.”

“Miss you too Ems.”

Dan was the final one to grab her and she didn’t want to let go. He pushed the quickest kiss to her lips as he hugged her, Em wanting to deepen it but knowing she couldn’t.

“I’ll change to the London flight. I’ll do it now.”

“And then your family will hate me. I’ll see you soon. You know, right?”

“I know. Y’know, right?”

She kissed his cheek before letting go, stepping back to give distance between them all.

“Go get your flight. I’ll text when I land in London, please let me know when you get into Perth. Good luck with the quarantine.”

She waved as they walked away, tears streaming down her cheeks. Ever since they’d been locked down on the farm she’d spent every single day with at least Dan, if not Blake and Mike right there beside her. But now she was facing fifty one days alone and all Em could do until they announced her flight was cry.

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kusaka6e · 2 years

Text

CHICAGO

prohero!izuku x fem!reader

implied/mentioned nsfw, 18+!!

insp by chicago by michael jackson

wc: 3.5k

this took me FOREVER to finish writing and idek if i like it anymore sigh, the ending kinda sucks so pls bare w me

[part two]

———

he hadn’t expected to meet you the way he did. or for things to go as far as they did.

you both happened to be on the same flight back to japan, him in the window seat and you in the aisle.

“is anyone sitting here?” you gestured to the empty spot between the two of you, hoping to set your bag down there.

“it’s mine, i always buy two seats when i fly. you can use it if you want.”

with his massive build and broad shoulders, you could see why he felt the need to buy two. the spray of freckles across his face shifted as he smiled sweetly.

why does he look so familiar?

“you just passing through japan, or?”

“going home, actually.”

“me too!”

the pilot begins to speak overhead as the flight attends begin the safety demonstration, making both of you go silent.

the plane lurches forward, making it’s way down the runway to take off.

“i’m izuku.”

“(f/n), nice to meet you.” he seemed sweet enough, but you rarely told people your real name. your job as a private investigator had made you hyper-aware of how dangerous even the most unsuspecting person could be.

“so, what was it that brought you out of japan?” he gulps as you cross one of your legs over the other, trying his best not to stare.

“i took a contract with some pro heroes overseas, but it’s over with now. what about you?”

pro hero?

holy shit

japan’s number-one hero was staring at you like a lovesick puppy.

“what do you do for work?”

“i’m a private investigator.”

“so you could dig up dirt on me, if you wanted to?”

“depends. got anything to hide?” you give him a sultry grin as you slightly lean forward, shamelessly switching your gaze from his bright eyes down to his lips.

dear god

the six hour flight flew by with you two making conversation, izuku almost growing sad when it was over. he learned that you were single (miraculously), had two kids and were trying to work through some issues with their father, and that he was insanely comfortable talking to you already.

he hesitated as the plane landed, mind racing as everyone around the two of you began to pull their bags from overhead compartments.

“this might seem forward but, could i call you sometime?”

the small nod you give him makes his stomach drop, fighting the urge to smile so hard his cheeks hurt when you began to scribble on a napkin from the meal earlier in the flight.

“i dont keep a personal phone, with work and all. if you text that number, just make it seem like you’re a client.”

“o-okay.” he curses himself internally for his stuttering habit coming back, amazed that you were able to spike his nerves the way you did.

“i hope i see you again, izuku. be safe out there.” you give him a wink before you disappear down the aisle, leaving him staring at your silhouette longingly.

“mommy!” you grin as you open the door to your house, your lavender haired daughters both sprinting towards you.

“hi pretty girls.” you smile warmly as you kneel to hug them both, their never-ending excitement to see you tugging your heartstrings.

you stand after a few minutes, your husband’s tired eyes meeting yours.

“hi ’toshi.”

“hey.” you frown as he gives you a half-hearted hug with one arm, noticing how he dodged your face to make you kiss his cheek rather than his lips.

you let out a sigh as he grabs his keys, hero costume on.

“i’ll be back tonight.”

“alright. be safe, love you.”

he closes the door before you finish your sentence, making your shoulders drop. if he replied, he hadn’t said it loud enough for you to hear him.

i guess being away didn’t make him miss me after all.

“mommy, what’s the matter with dad?”

“he’s just tired baby.”

a bittersweet feeling rises in your chest as your daughters run back to their rooms, ignorant to the depth of the issues between you and their father.

you go into work a few days with puffy eyes from a screaming match with hitoshi the night before, thankful that your office space isn’t shared with anyone else.

a notification from an unknown number flashes across the screen of your work phone, making your face twist in confusion.

unknown, today 8:24 am

could i book an appointment at your next availability please?

your mind goes blank for a second, before you break out into a grin.

izuku.

fortunately i have availability later today

i’ll pencil you in for my 3:00 opening

the tasks of your workday begin to pile up, phone calls from other clients distracting you and before you know it, hours have passed. a knock on your office door startles you, before you hear his voice.

“hi, uhm, is this the right office? for the three o’clock appointment?”

you try to force away the blush creeping up your cheeks, suddenly extremely self-conscious about your choice in clothes for work that day. you were almost sure he’d forget about you, or not take your offer seriously. that was part of the reason why you’d lied about not having a personal phone, and why you were so bold towards him. and even when he texted; he was literally the top hero in japan, why would he have time for you?

but there he stood in your office doorway, black t-shirt straining against his biceps and towering over you.

“hi.”

“hey.” he gives you a nervous smile as you gesture for him to come in, closing the door behind him.

after some initial awkward conversation, you’re amazed at how easy he is to talk to. he leans on his forearms onto your desk, giving you a better view of the constellation of freckles and scars surrounding his bright eyes.

“digging up anything exciting today?”

“nah, just run of the mill stuff.”

“c’mon, you have a cool job like this and you’re telling me there’s nothing crazy going on?” you’re taken aback by his genuine interest, not having spoken to anyone about your workday in months.

“well, there is this one case…”

before you know it, you’d ranted for almost an hour, sharing as many details as you can without violating the privacy of your contract, izuku listening intently and chiming in every so often.

“i’m so sorry, i didn't mean to talk you to death.”

“don’t be sorry, i’m really enjoying listening.”

something about his dialect and body language left no room for you to doubt; he really was holding on to your every word. he notices a framed photo on your desk, grinning at the picture of your girls.

“your daughters?”

“yea.” your stomach drops, thankful that you’d rearranged recently, and that the framed picture of you and hitoshi was no longer displayed by your computer monitor. when you noticed his wedding ring sitting on his nightstand rather than his finger, you took it upon yourself to change a few things too.

“they’re adorable.” he slightly cocks up an eyebrow, their wild lavender hair strikingly familiar.

“i feel bad being here so much, instead of being at home with them.”

“i’m sure they’ll understand. you’ve gotta do what you have to to take care of them, right?”

“i do, i just wish i could do that and spend more time with them.”

“you’re doing the best you can, that’s all you can do.”

“you’re right. it’s just so difficult, especially when i don’t get much help from their dad, and my family lives out of the country. i’m starting to think they might like their nanny more than me.” your last sentence makes both of you chuckle, but you don’t miss the concerned look in his eyes.

nothing you were saying was necessarily a lie; hitoshi had been acting like he was married to his job instead of you, and your family really did live out of the country. you just opted to not mention that your kid’s father was also your (very estranged) husband.

“with you being there for them, i bet you three can get through anything.” he cautiously grabs your hand across your desk, heat rising in his chest when you gently squeeze his palm.

soon enough he had to go back to his agency to fill out paperwork, to both of your dismay.

“it was really nice to see you again, (f/n).”

your breath catches upon hearing the fake name you told him, watching his smile slightly drop in confusion.

“izuku, i’m sorry, my name is (y/n). i give almost everyone a fake name the first time i meet them.”

he has an unreadable expression on his face for a moment before his smile returns, no trace of animosity to be found.

“that’s understandable. with your line of work, im sure there’s lots of weirdos you have to steer clear of.”

he pulls you in for a hug before he goes, his secure embrace nearly melting you on the spot.

“i’ll see you soon, (y/n).” he leaned down to speak close to your ear, such a simple gesture being wildly attractive coming from him.

after he leaves your office you have to take a few breaths to refocus, trying to be sure what just happened was real.

“dude, you’ve been smiling like an idiot all morning. what’d you get laid or something?” denki nudged izuku as they walked into the hero conference the next morning, making him roll his eyes.

“i can’t be in a good mood?”

“that’s not just a ‘good mood’ look, i’m not stupid.”

some of the top heros were meeting with the commissioner that morning, to be briefed on a new assignment that would be pretty widespread among the pro-heros in the city.

“you’re up early. don’t you usually work at night?” you frown as you’re met with hitoshi adjusting his modulator in the kitchen, an unusual sight for the morning.

“we’re getting briefed on some big assignment with some of the top pros, i’ve gotta be at this meeting early.” your stomach drops at his words, instantly thinking of izuku.

hitoshi double-takes, chuckling at the sight of your tired eyes and bedhead. he rarely got to see you in the mornings anymore, and it was a view he didn’t realize how much he’d missed.

“i’ll be back late, i’ve got some stuff to do at the agency after this meeting.” you nod, nearly jumping in surprise as he ruffles your already wild hair, kissing one of your temples.

“have a good day, love you.”

you stare at the front door absolutely dumbfounded, wondering if you were dreaming. that was the first time in months he had not only not dodged your advances, but made the first move to be affectionate towards you.

you shake off the thought as you dress for work, your daughter’s nanny showing up shortly before you leave.

your mind races as you sit down to check your morning emails, particularly towards a green-haired pro-hero.

“hitoshi?”

“izuku?”

“what’s up?! long time no see, how have you been?”

“you know, the usual graveyard shift stuff. how about you, big shot? you’ve been tearing up the charts lately.”

izuku grinned as him and shinso caught up before the meeting began, happy to see his friend again after so long. since shinso did more underground hero work and izuku was constantly working on bigger cases, on top of his overseas case, he’d barely seen any of his friends lately.

it was another two weeks before you saw him again, and you were giddy with excitement the next time he came through your door. hitoshi’s new assignment had him busier than ever, making you go a few days in a row without seeing him sometimes.

“izuku!”

“hi!!” you giggle in surprise as he hugs you tightly, slightly lifting you off the ground. you were in such a rush to open the door for him that you barely hear plastic crinkle at your side. as he sets you down, you see an elaborate bouquet of flowers in his hand, making heat rise in your cheeks.

“i thought you might like the purple, to remind you of your girls.” you freeze for a moment at the connection he made, his consideration nearly making your eyes well.

if only he knew who else purple reminded me of.

“izuku, these are beautiful.”

“i’m so glad you like them.” he breaks into a wide grin, noticing you double taking at his face.

“what happened here?” almost instinctively, you gently cup your hand onto the side of his face, noticing a new wound below one of his eyes.

“o-oh, it’s nothing, just typical work stuff. it’s not major, i promise.” the new touch lights fire under his skin, relishing in how soft your hands are.

he stays in your office for another few hours, conversation flowing easily again and updating each other on your lives. you’re both speaking animatedly with lots of hand gestures, resulting in your fingers brushing each other repeatedly. eventually, he just grabs one of your hands and toys with your fingers as he talks, the size difference in your hands being almost comical.

his phone rings, groaning as he sees who’s name is on the screen.

“hello- okay don’t raise your voice at me asshole. yes, yes, alright i’ll be back soon. boy, shut the hell up.”

“work?” you let out a chuckle, recognizing dynamight’s yell on the other end of the phone.

“unfortunately. i’ve gotta go, but i’ll see you again soon.”

he wraps you in a hug, making your breath hitch when he quickly kisses the top of your hair.

“bye, (y/n).” he flashes his signature grin as he closes your office door, leaving you smiling like an idiot.

“good day at work?”

“what makes you say that, mai?” your nanny smiles as she hands one of your daughters a snack, before she hurries back into her room with her sister.

“you’re glowing.”

“yea, something like that.” your cheeks heat as you set your purse down, your thoughts running in the direction of your new muse.

“it’s nice to see you smile again, (y/n). whatever’s going on, i hope it keeps up.”

your eyes go wide at her words, stopping in your tracks.

was it that obvious how much you were struggling ?

“midoriya’s got a girlfriend.”

mina nearly chokes on her water, staring at izuku expectantly

“do i now?”

“there’s no way anyone would ever wanna date your nerdy ass.”

“like you haven’t wanted to since we were kids?” izuku’s comment makes the group laugh, but mina doesn’t miss the way his eyes sparkle, looking off into space with a goofy smile.

izuku found himself in your office at least once a week, looking forward to those meetings more than anything. he wanted so bad to see you somewhere other than your office, but his status made it almost impossible for him to even think about going anywhere without paparazzi pouncing on him. the only reason you two’s office meet ups weren’t suspected by anyone was because it was completely normal for the pro heroes to work with investigators on all the different cases circulating the city.

but he was fed up with only seeing you in your office. so a few months into seeing him, you found yourself checking into a local hotel under a fake name, to preserve the secrecy of his identity.

you gently knock on the door to the room, gasping as izuku barely opens the door and pulls you in, quickly closing it behind you.

he looks you up and down, still processing the fact that you’re really standing in front of him.

“hi.” he grins widely, his voice barely audible.

“why are you whispering?” you giggle as you match his volume, cradling his face as you step towards him.

“i don’t know.” this makes both of you break into full blown laughter, giddy at the interaction.

there’s comfortable silence for a few moments, izuku’s eyes glittering as he analyzes all the details of your face up close. you feel like you’re shrinking under his gaze, his attentiveness and excitement to just be in your presence feeling so foreign.

“you’re so pretty.”

maybe it’s the sincerity in his voice, or the stability you feel from his large hands holding your waist, or the excitement of his green eyes dancing all over your facial features. something about such a simple statement tips you over the edge, pulling him against you before you can think twice.

he gasps when your lips meet his, freezing for only a second before lifting you off the ground easily, wrapping your legs around his waist as he makes his way towards the bed in the room.

he’s kissing you

izuku is kissing you

you are kissing izuku

his mind is racing as he sits down, sitting you atop his lap and never disconnecting from you. he’d daydreamed about this more times than he could count.

izuku was observant, that was no secret. and as you two fell into rhythm with each other, you realized just how observant of you he was. his hands worked against your body like the movement was natural, confident as his fingers traced every curve of your frame.

guilt washed over you as he began to pepper kisses down your neck, momentarily second guessing your actions.

he slips his hand under your shirt, rubbing up and down your back as he kisses you.

“you have… no idea… how long i’ve wanted… to do this.” he nearly whimpers, kissing along your jawline before meeting your lips again. something about the desperation, the gratitude in his tone, made all your doubt wash away.

he pulls your shirt over your head, eyes catching on the intricate tattoo on your ribs, trailing down your side.

you’re on your way home a few hours later, feeling like you’re walking on clouds. but as you pull into your driveway and pull your keys from the ignition of your car, everything in you deflates.

what the hell am i doing?

“so, i met someone.”

“i knew it!” denki nearly launches off of his chair, making shinso groan.

izuku grinned at kaminari’s excitement, his friends all looking expectantly to hear about his new muse.

“how’d you meet?”

“we ended up sitting next to each other on my flight back from the US. i asked for her number when we landed, and it just kind of took off from there.”

“you look like you’re about to start kicking your feet like a damn schoolgirl.” bakugou scoffs.

“wait, i wanna hear more!! details, izu. is she hot? what’s she do? do we know her?” mina leans forward onto her elbows, eyes glittering.

“i don’t think you guys know her. she’s a PI, she keeps her life pretty secret.”

“sounds just like (y/n). she’s a PI too, most people don’t even know she exists.” shinso chuckles fondly, taking a sip of his beer.

“yea, sh- wait, what?”

“oh shit, you were overseas when we got married. my wife, (y/n), is a PI.”

shinso cocks up an eyebrow as izuku’s face pales.

“what’s the matter midoriya?” kirishima looks curiously between the two.

izuku sighs heavily, quickly putting the pieces together.

“dragon tattoo?” he gestures to his ribs.

“yea, how do y-“ shinso cuts off his own sentence, knuckles tingling when he realizes what izuku is insinuating.

“aw shit.” kaminari is the first to break the silence, the tension thick between the group.

“nice going, nerd.”

“you’re married?”

“you’re fucking my wife?!”

“neither of you even wear a wedding ring, how was i supposed to-“ izuku stops as shinso storms up to him, gripping the collar of his shirt.

“hitoshi, hold o-“

“sit the fuck down.” he barks, effectively making kirishima and kaminari return to their seats.

as bad as he wanted to swing, he knew izuku would destroy him in a physical fight. thankfully, he had other ideas.

“how long?” he growls

“shinso-“

“how long have you been fucking my wife, midoriya?”

izuku feels his mind cloud, shinso’s quirk making his body go slack.

“a few months.”

“did she tell you she was married?”

“no.”

“that we have kids?”

“yes.”

“call her.”

mina clamps her hand over her mouth as izuku pulls his phone from his pocket, shinso putting the phone on speaker so everyone can hear the ringing.

“hello?”

shinso chuckles bitterly, biting down on the inside of his cheek as hearing your voice confirmed everything.

you look away from the cartoon your daughters had playing, realizing they’re both asleep on the couch where you three sat.

you see izuku’s name flash across the screen of your work phone, stomach turning as you slide your finger across the screen to answer it.

“hello?”

“go on, tell her, midoriya.”

your breath catches, the voice on the line all too familiar, even though it didn’t belong to izuku.

“shinso knows about us, (y/n).”

shit.

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