#if you keep doing something and pressuring it over and over and over

[genderqueerdykes]

there really is a cultural pressure for transmascs & men to detransition, and it comes from all sides. it comes from the queer community too, not just terfs and cishet transphobes.

it took me a while to realize why transphobic people and transandrophobic queers utterly despise trans guys & mascs who are over the age of like 25- it's because it pisses them right off that we've resisted their attempts to make us detransition. it makes them so angry to see they were unable to groom that person into a life of self-shame and repression. it really seems like MOST people believe that trans men will just detransition eventually in life? people NEVER think about older trans men, only teenage trans boys and trans men in their very early twenties.

when i was involved with my local punk scene i was addressed with condescension, almost everyone around me didn't accept transmasculinity as a legitimate identity and thought that we would've transitioned by now in life. i encountered folks who would talk about transmasculinity with subtle disgust that made me feel like i was doing something wrong, and people who expressed overt disgust, saying in plain english that they were disgusted by breasts and vaginas because they were gay men. all along the way i was literally mocked for not having a penis, and one of my roommates started treating me differently once they found out i didn't have one (because they were attracted to me)

i've been on T for 9 years, and been out as a trans man for a bit longer than that, and i noticed as i've aged i've also attracted a lot of folks who have tried to deter me from identifying as a trans man, either through directly telling me that trans men are inherently dangerous, or by implying that women or another gender are safer, quieter, calmer, "less traumatizing to be around," etc. one of my exes told me they were terrified to date me (despite literally going out of their way to do so for over half a year) because they were scared i would be transphobic to them because i'm a transmasculine lesbian.

i received pressure from online friends to either detransition and become an intersex butch woman, or to something feminine adjacent or nonbinary. for years i dealt with a few friends who kept subtly hinting that i should stop identifying as a trans man or trans masc because of how awful transmascs are- going as far as to sending me screenshots of transmascs speaking, complaining about them and calling them whiny, annoying. talking about how all transmascs are entitled, how all transmascs take things too personally, how we complain too much, and so on.

people make no effort to make space for transmascs and men. i met 0 transmascs in my local punk community that i was able to stay in contact with. none. i met a few in passing but none that actually were introduced to me in a capacity where i could actually try to befriend them. it really felt like other punks in the scene were desperately trying to keep the transmascs apart at times. excuses were made as to why i couldn't hang out with other transmascs i liked, but i was constantly being forced to befriend transphobic cis gay men and transandrophobic transfemmes who outwardly expressed hatred and disgust of us. it really felt like it was on purpose... almost as if other members of this community wanted our attention, but never wanted us to give each other attention or a sense of community. like we were objects, not people to be included in the community for real. satellite friends, if you will.

i'll be honest with you. i was at my lowest at this point. i realized i wasn't just a trans man and that i'm a genderqueer person who experiences multiple genders, including womanhood and an "other" gender, which was great. however now i was being forced to completely stuff down being a man for the sake of other people. instead of folks telling me they'd rather not hang out with transmascs, folks rather just attempted to guilt me for identifying as such in the hopes i'd stop identifying that way. i was being told daily that trans men and mascs are inherently violent and terrible to be around. i was in discord servers where transmascs were being kicked constantly for getting even slightly upset about transandrophobia, or being unfairly targeted by staff.

it's violence, but nobody wants to call it that. i pulled myself out of there and am now able to contact other transmascs and trans men who are proud of who they are and have elevated me back into a headspace where it's okay to truly be myself. just keep in mind that if you feel like you're in that situation, you're not alone. people who attempt to groom others are often very subtle it's not always up front. they will start slipping in hateful sentiments very slowly and make you feel like maybe they're the ones who are actually right.

it feels good to be an almost 32 year old trans guy. there's nothing to be ashamed about there. people project their feelings on to my gender and that has nothing to do with me. it has nothing to do with you, either. people will just project on to you for whatever reason- hatred is usually the motivator there. if you encounter folks who keep trying to badger you out of identifying as your gender, no matter who you are, transmasc, transfemme, transneutral, trans anything- they are not good for you. they are not your friends. they do not accept you as you are and you deserve so much better.

#transmasc #trans #lgbtqia #lgbtq #lgbt #queer #gay #lesbian #bisexual #genderqueer #non binary #nonbinary #enby #ftm #transmasculine #trans man #trans men #transgender #transsexual #ftm gay #trans gay #trans lesbian #transmasc lesbian #butch #butch lesbian #dyke #genderfluid #intersex #about us #our writing

[pucksandpower]

Party Girl

Happy Nation: A Series of Standalone Fics

Logan Sargeant x Hunt!Reader

Summary: Logan tries to save a notorious party girl from herself (or in which going wild runs in the Hunt family)

Warnings: illicit substances and peer-pressure

The nightclub’s bass thumps through Logan’s chest as the trio approaches the entrance. Lando and Oscar turn to him with matching grins.

“You ready for this, mate?” Lando asks.

Logan eyes the mass of people spilling out onto the sidewalk. “Is this really a good idea?”

“Of course!” Oscar claps him on the shoulder. “It’s gonna be brilliant. Especially with you keeping an eye on the hostess.”

“Me?” Logan’s brow furrows.

Lando nods. “You’re our designated driver tonight, so you’ll be the soberest one here. We need you to keep Y/N from going too far off the rails.”

“Why me though? I barely know her.”

“Exactly!” Oscar exclaims. “She doesn’t really know you either, so she’ll actually listen instead of brushing you off like she does with the rest of us.”

Logan frowns. “I don’t know, guys ...”

“Oh, come on!” Lando wheedles. “You’ve heard the stories about James Hunt. Partying is in her DNA. We just need to make sure she doesn’t take after her grandad too much tonight.”

With a sigh, Logan relents. “Alright, fine. I’ll do my best to keep her out of trouble.”

The two grin and clap him on the back before leading the way inside. The throbbing music and flashing lights assault Logan’s senses as they enter. He scans the crowd, quickly spotting a vaguely familiar mane of untamed waves.

You’re laughing uproariously at something one of your friends said, drink sloshing precariously in your hand. Your cheeks are already flushed, eyes bright with intoxication and mirth. A pang of concern flutters in Logan’s chest — Lando and Oscar weren’t kidding about keeping an eye on you.

Making his way through the press of bodies, Logan sidles up next to you. You glance over with a brilliant smile.

“Heyyy, you made it!”

“Yeah, uh, hi,” Logan replies, suddenly feeling awkward. “Your friends invited me to, you know, keep things under control.”

You giggle. “Under control? What fun is that?”

Taking a swig of your drink, you spin away to dance with your friends, moving your hips enticingly. Logan swallows hard, trying not to stare. This is going to be harder than he thought.

The evening blurs by in a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds. Wherever you go, Logan follows at a respectful distance. He rebuffs anyone trying to offer you illicit substances and intervenes whenever your friends get too rowdy.

A few times you shoot him annoyed glares, but he just shrugs apologetically. He’s only doing what Lando and Oscar asked. Besides, he reasons, better to have you mad at him than in real danger.

As the hour grows later, your movements become more uncoordinated, laughter louder and words more slurred. Logan hovers closer, concern mounting.

“Ohhh, Logannnnn,” you croon, draping yourself over him. “You’re sooo stuffy. Live a little!”

He gently extracts himself from your embrace. “I think you’ve lived enough for tonight, Y/N.”

Pouting, you turn away petulantly. Logan watches as a few of your more unscrupulous friends surround you with sly grins. Alarm spikes through him when he sees one of them press something into your palm.

“Hey!” Pushing forward, he places himself between you and them. “Back off. She’s not interested.”

You blink at him owlishly while your friends sneer.

“Who’re you to decide for her, pretty boy?”

“Someone who actually cares if she’s okay.” Logan holds his ground.

With a drunken giggle, you lean against his back. “S’ok, Logieee. Lemme have some fun!”

“No, Y/N.” He spins to face you, gripping your shoulders firmly. “That stuff is bad news. You don’t want it, trust me.”

Your eyes are glazed, but you search his face like you’re trying to understand. One of your friends makes another attempt to press the little baggie into your hand. Without thinking, Logan bats it away. It goes flying across the club, spilling white powder everywhere.

“Dude!” Your friend shouts, outraged.

Logan doesn’t give them a chance to react further. Scooping you up in his arms, he starts carrying you away from the crowd. You’re tiny and warm against his chest, still giggling faintly.

“Mmm, Logan ... gonna getcha in trouble ...”

“I’ll take my chances,” he mutters.

Pushing his way through the throngs of people, Logan finally breaks free into the cool night air. He sets you on your feet, but keeps a steadying hand on your waist when you sway unsteadily.

Up close like this, he can make out the flushed skin across your nose, the flecks of light reflecting in your warm eyes. For a moment you just gaze at each other, the sounds of the party muffled behind the club’s doors.

Then your brow furrows. “Why’d ya stop me? I was jus’ havin’ fun.”

Logan shakes his head slowly. “That kind of fun isn’t good for you, Y/N. Your friends, they ... they weren’t looking out for your best interests back there.”

“You don’ even know me!” You protest, pushing away from him on unsteady feet.

Without thinking, Logan catches your hands in his. They’re so tiny, delicate, yet topped with nails sharp enough to take an eye out. Just like the rest of you — an enigmatic mix of fragile beauty and uncompromising tenacity.

“You’re right, I don’t really know you,” he admits. “But I know that you’re strong. Braver and tougher than anyone gives you credit for. And you don’t need that junk to be the life of the party.”

For a long moment, you simply stare at him, eyes wide. Then, slowly, you nod. A few stray tendrils of hair fall across your face and Logan’s fingers itch to brush them back. He tamps down the urge.

“M’sorry I made a scene back there,” you mumble, averting your gaze.

“Hey.” Logan ducks his head to catch your eye again. “Don’t be sorry. Those people, they ...” He shakes his head in disgust. “You deserve better friends than that.”

Pink dusts your cheeks as the corners of your mouth tick upwards. “You’re sweet, Logan. A real gentleman.”

“I just call it like I see it,” he replies with a shrug.

You laugh softly then, a warm, rich sound that sends tingles down Logan’s spine. When you speak again, your voice is clearer, more sober.

“I guess tonight got a little out of hand. Sometimes I go too far trying to live up to the reputation of my last name. It’s stupid, I know.”

“Hey, we all have things we’re trying to prove.” Logan squeezes your hands reassuringly. “But you don’t have to prove anything to me, Y/N. I can already see how amazing you are.”

For a beat, you simply stare at him, eyes shining. Then, surging up on your tiptoes, you throw your arms around his neck and kiss him hard.

Logan freezes for half a second before melting into the embrace, pulling you flush against him. His fingers tangle in your hair as he kisses you back with everything he has.

When you finally break apart, breathless and flushed, Logan rests his forehead against yours.

“Wow,” is all he can think to say.

You grin impishly up at him. “Now there’s a party I wouldn’t mind getting carried away at.”

Logan can’t help but laugh. Tucking you into his side, he presses a kiss to your temple. “Let’s get out of here. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

***

Logan jolts awake to the sound of insistent pounding on his hotel room door. Squinting against the bright sunlight filtering through the curtains, he rubs the sleep from his eyes and shuffles to answer it.

“About damn time!” Lando’s voice greets him as soon as the door opens. “Do you know how long we’ve been stuck outside?”

Oscar shoulders past Logan into the room. “Yeah, mate. Abandoning your friends at the club? Not cool.”

Logan’s brow furrows in confusion until the previous night’s events come trickling back. The party, the near miss with the drugs, getting you safely away ...

His gaze drifts to the rumpled bed across the room where you’re just starting to stir, sheets tangled around your legs. A soft smile tugs at Logan’s lips as he watches you blink owlishly.

“Earth to Logan?” Lando waves a hand in front of his face. “You still with us?”

“What? Yeah, sorry.” Logan drags his attention back to the two drivers. “Look, I can explain about last night ...”

“No need to explain why you ditched us,” Oscar interjects with a suggestive wink toward the bed. “We can figure that part out for ourselves.”

You sit upright then, the sheets pooling around your waist as you rub your eyes. “Whas’ goin’ on?”

“Well, well!” Lando exclaims with a salacious grin. “If it isn’t the life of the party herself! Get up to any ... extracurriculars last night?”

Heat creeps up the back of Logan’s neck as you glance between the three of them in sleepy bewilderment. A strangled laugh escapes Oscar’s lips as the realization hits both of them. You and Logan lock eyes from across the room, equally mortified.

“No, wait! It’s not what it looks like!” Logan splutters.

Lando claps a hand on his shoulder with a pitying look. “It’s alright, mate. You don’t have to be ashamed about finally getting some action.”

“But I didn’t!” Logan insists, running a flustered hand through his hair. “Y/N, tell them!”

Untangling yourself from the sheets, you slide off the bed — giving everyone an eyeful of the fact that you’re only wearing one of Logan’s hoodies. His breath catches in his throat because damn if you don’t look incredible drowning in his clothes.

Your bare feet pad across the carpet until you’re standing before him, fingers playing with the worn cotton hem. “He’s right, you two. We didn’t ... you know.”

Hurt flashes across Logan’s face before he can squelch it back down. Right, of course you wouldn’t want that after all the lines he crossed last night. You’d been drunk and vulnerable and now you were regretting everything, including the–

“We kissed! But it doesn’t have to mean anything,” he blurts out, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “I got Y/N out of a bad situation and we may have, uh, gotten a little carried away in the heat of the moment. But she was drunk and it won’t happen again, I swear.”

An awkward silence falls over the room, broken only by Lando’s snort of laughter. “No rizz, this one.”

Logan’s jaw clenches. He knew they’d tease him about it, but he’s a grown man and he doesn’t need to take it from the likes of–

“Logan.”

Your voice is soft but it cuts through the embarrassment swirling in his mind. You take his face gently in your hands and he’s helpless but to meet your warm gaze.

“What if I want it to mean something?”

The air whooshes out of him in a surprised breath. His hands find your waist of their own accord like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Y-You do?”

Behind you, Oscar groans. “God, he’s so hopeless.”

“I think it’s sweet!” Lando retorts. “Innocent, you know? Like a puppy getting all flustered.”

Logan blocks them out, his whole world narrowing to the amused, almost fond smile playing across your lips. You nod, leaning further into his embrace.

“I meant what I said last night, Logan. You’re the sweetest, most caring guy I’ve ever met. And I like you.” Your nose wrinkles adorably. “A lot, actually.”

He blinks rapidly, certain his heart is about to burst out of his chest. “Y/N, I ... I like you too. So much.”

Laughing that rich, warm laugh of yours, you loop your arms around his neck and rise up on your tiptoes. Logan meets you halfway, melting into the heated press of your lips against his.

Catcalls and wolf-whistles finally penetrate the happy bubble enveloping you both. You break the kiss with a breathless giggle, burrowing your face into the crook of Logan’s neck.

“Oi, lovebirds!” Oscar hollers. “Get a room!”

“Yeah, we’ve already got one!” Logan shoots back, surprising himself with the retort. He winks cheekily at you and you positively beam in response, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Alright, that’s our cue!” Lando steers Oscar toward the door. “Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do, you crazy kids!”

The door slams behind them, leaving you and Logan alone in blissful quiet. His arms tighten around your waist, keeping you pressed flush against him. For a few heartbeats, you simply drink each other in, basking in the unfamiliar but not unwelcome feelings bubbling up.

Eventually you break the spell with a featherlight brush of your lips against the corner of Logan’s mouth. “So, was that too forward? I shouldn’t have just sprung that on you ...”

“No!” He rushes to reassure you. “God, no. I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”

You poke his chest lightly, eyes dancing with mirth. “Not even racing?”

Logan chuckles, tucking a stray curl behind your ear. “Okay, maybe one other thing. But you’re definitely in the top two.”

Winding your arms back around his neck, you arch one brow mischievously. “Only top two? I’ll have to work on that ...”

His breath catches in his throat at the playful promise in your tone. “I, uh ... I wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

As you lean in to kiss him again, Logan can’t help but silently thank Lando and Oscar for dragging him to that party. True, the night didn’t go exactly as expected. But he wound up with the greatest prize of all — you, here in his arms, carefree and happy and perfect in every way.

Like the gentleman his mama raised him to be, Logan vows silently to cherish every moment with you. After all, only a fool would look a gift horse like you in the mouth.

***

Adrenaline still thrums through Logan’s veins as he exits parc fermé, helmet tucked under his arm. His cheeks ache from the wide grin stretched across his face — a double points finish was exactly what Williams needed.

Alex falls into step beside him, equally elated after their impressive showing on the track today. They did good, really good. Logan can’t wait to celebrate with the whole team.

As they approach the Williams garage, a familiar head of hair catches Logan’s eye. You’re standing front and center, bouncing on the balls of your feet with poorly contained excitement. A large bakery box is clutched in your hands, the elaborate logo on the lid leaving little doubt as to its expensive contents.

Logan’s grin widens impossibly further. Of course you’d be here with treats in tow, always ready to turn any occasion into a party. His heart swells with affection just watching you eagerly await his and Alex’s return.

The rest of the team notice their arrival and erupt into cheers, crowding around to clap the drivers on the back with jubilant congratulations. You hang back, though your whole face is lit up with unabashed pride.

“Nice one out there, lads!” An engineer calls over the ruckus.

“About time we had a good points haul,” Another mechanic agrees.

Logan waves off the compliments with a bashful duck of his head. The team has been through so much in recent seasons — they deserve this moment more than he does.

“Alright, alright! Give the boys some space to breathe!” A familiar voice rings out.

You shove your way through the throngs of people, bounding right up to Logan with a brilliant grin. He has a split second to brace himself before you launch into his arms, nearly sending him toppling backward with the force of your enthusiasm.

“You were brilliant!” You exclaim, planting an exuberant kiss on his cheek that has him blushing furiously. “Both of you! I’m so proud!”

Alex chuckles fondly as you untangle yourself from Logan just enough to loop an arm around the other man’s shoulders. “We couldn’t have done it without the team’s hard work. You should be proud of them.”

“Oh, I am!” You turn your beaming smile on the rest of the crew. “Which is why I brought a little celebratory treat!”

Holding up the bakery box with a waggle of your brows, you peel back the lid to reveal a massively decadent-looking chocolate cake. It’s one of the most elaborate confections Logan has ever laid eyes on.

A reverent hush falls over the assembled group as they all lean in to get a better look. The air is suddenly thick with the rich scent of cocoa and buttercream frosting.

“Blimey, Y/N! That must’ve set you back a pretty penny!” Alex exclaims.

You wave him off with a casual flap of your hand. “Oh, please! You don’t even want to know how many races I’ve brought an expensive cake to just in case. I’m just glad I finally got to use this one!”

A ripple of laughter rolls through the crew at that. Logan shakes his head in fond exasperation, equal parts endeared and unsurprised by your extravagant gesture.

When your gaze lands on him again, warmth blooms in his chest at the open adoration shining in your eyes. You look at him like he’s the most impressive thing you’ve ever seen, not some lucky racer who simply played a tiny part in today’s success.

Liquid courage from the race still thrumming through his veins, Logan acts on impulse. Plucking the cake box deftly from your grip, he passes it off to a bewildered Alex before cupping your face in his hands and kissing you soundly.

A startled squeak quickly melts into a pleased hum as you melt against him, looping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. Logan pours every ounce of his pride and affection for you into the heated press of his lips, uncaring of the captive audience for once.

Hoots and hollers finally break through the rosy haze fogging Logan’s mind. He breaks the kiss with a breathless chuckle, thumbs brushing over the delightfully flushed apples of your cheeks.

“Get a room, you two!” Alex hollers with a roll of his eyes.

The rest of the crew quickly devolves into jokes and ribbing at your expense, but Logan couldn’t care less. With you smiling up at him like he hung the moon, the rest of the world simply falls away.

“You taste like chocolate,” he murmurs, brushing his nose against yours.

The impish grin you shoot him in return makes his heart stutter. “Well, it wouldn’t be a proper party without dessert.”

An arm slings around Logan’s shoulders, disrupting the little bubble you’ve found yourselves cocooned in. He startles, having completely forgotten about the dozens of other people still milling about.

“Well isn’t this just precious!” Gaetan, Logan’s race engineer, gives him an affectionate shake. “Young love blossoming right here in the garage!”

Red blooms high on Logan’s cheeks even as your melodic giggles wash over him. He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly.

“We’re not that young.”

“Could’ve fooled me!” Gaetan retorts with a bark of laughter. “You two have more spark than the rest of the kids around here combined.”

Your hand finds Logan’s, tangling your fingers together as you lean bodily into his side. For a fleeting moment, he allows himself to bask in the happiness surrounding him. It’s like floating, secure in the knowledge that you’ll always be right here to keep him grounded.

“You know,” you begin softly, batting your lashes up at Logan. “This might just be my new favorite party.”

A surprised huff of laughter escapes him. But really, he shouldn’t be so shocked. From the moment he met you, it was clear you had an unparalleled zest for life. You see the joy and potential for a good time in every single occasion. It’s one of the many, many things Logan loves about you.

“Your favorite, huh?” He bends to press his forehead to yours, drinking in your radiant smile. “I’ll remember this one, then.”

Because no matter how many parties, races, or adventures you two share moving forward, Logan vows to cherish each and every one with you by his side. After all, every single moment is worth celebrating when you get to spend it with the person you love most.

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #logan sargeant #ls2 #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #logan sargeant fic #logan sargeant fluff #logan sargeant fanfic #logan sargeant blurb #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #f1 x y/n #f1 drabble #f1 fandom #f1blr #f1 x female reader #logan sargeant x y/n #williams racing #logan sargeant one shot #logan sargeant fanfiction #james hunt

[darylssunshine]

Mine.

Pairing: Daryl x Reader

Era: Commonwealth

Summary: Daryl indulges in one of your kinks.

Warnings: Poorly written smut, p in v, swearing, knives, choking

Word count: 1k (ish)

A/N: This is my first time writing smut so I am very scared LOL. The first fic you post on tumblr being smut can be very nerve-wracking. Just had Daryl indulging my knife kink rattling around in my brain and I got inspired.

~~~~~

“Shut th' fuck up, slut.”

A hand was pressed down onto your mouth as a growl exited his, while the other grasped both your wrists and held them above your head. Daryl's length was moving back and forth through your walls at a dizzying pace while your eyes rolled into the back of your head in pure bliss. Though your eyes were now wide open and staring directly at the redneck on top of you because of his previous comment. Your breath hitched and you nodded your head fervently. 

The hand that was previously pressed onto your mouth moved down to squeeze your throat, all while continuing to pound into you, causing a whine to crawl out of you, your mouth still closed. 

“Tryin’ to stay quiet for me like tha'. Good fuckin’ girl.” 

The mix of degradations and praise combined with the added pressure increasing on your throat had your head spinning and a knot building in your lower stomach. “Who do you fuckin’ belong to? Who is it, huh?” Daryl purposefully leaned down to growl against your ear, knowing each and every one of your turn ons. The mix of pain and pleasure was too much for your brain to handle, not being able to think a single thought, let alone a coherent sentence. So instead of answering, you gave a high-pitched moan in response, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth and onto your chest.

Daryl gave a raspy grunt in disapproval and gripped your chin that was previously on your throat, forcing you to look at him directly. “Didn't hear ya, slut. Who d'ya belong to?” You snapped out of your haze, not wanting to disappoint nor disobey him. “Y- … You.” You struggled to stutter out in between your fast breaths. 

He smirked. He fucking smirked, and somehow quickened the pace.

“That's.” Thrust. “Fuckin’.” Thrust. “Right.” Thrust. 

He slowed his thrusts down to a lazy pace before stopping completely, earning a dramatic whine from the depths of your soul when you felt him slip out of you. “Dar!” You dragged in an annoyed tone, Daryl already stepping off the bed and onto the carpet. He simply chuckled lightly and rolled his eyes. “Relax. Wanna try somethin'.”

He grabbed something from off of the shared dresser you had on the other side of the room, making sure you didn't see what it was and hid it behind his back. Slowly, he walked back to the bed and got in a sitting position, making direct eye contact the whole time, building anticipation. “C'mon over and ride me, but don't face me.” Your brows furrowed in confusion, but you did as you were told, crawling on your hands and knees to the middle of the bed where Daryl now was, and gently eased yourself back onto his cock, bouncing slowly. “What's this about, Dar?” You questioned, your breath already beginning to quicken. “You'll see. Just keep ridin', sunshine.” Once again, albeit confused, did as you were told, already getting comfortable with the position, letting small moans slip out, all while Daryl rubbed your hip with his left hand and still holding that unknown something in his right.

“You ready, baby?” Even while you were experiencing the bliss of riding his cock over and over, that elicited a chuckle from you. Why was he being so secretive? “For what, babe?”

Immediately after those words left your mouth, his long, sharp, hunting knife met with the base of your throat, while his other free hand gripped your hair and tilted your head back, exposing even more of the soft flesh. And he was pushing on it, increasing the pressure with every thrust. He's went out hunting with that knife before you two even met, so you had no doubt he knew what he was doing, and that thought somehow turned you on more than you already were. He swiped it slightly along your clavicle, almost drawing blood.

Your mouth went slack. No noise exited you besides your exaggerated breathing and your, frankly, embarrassing loud moans.

“There it is. You're such a fuckin’ slut. My slut. Makin' you feel so good, huh?”

All your senses were heightened. You were on cloud nine and barely even heard what he said besides registering his low, raspy, growling. Daryl was making you a wet, blubbering mess, and he only wished he could see what those eyes looked like rolled in the back of your head. So he resorted to the voice again. (He figured out about that kink the very first night you spent with each other. “You're really obvious, y'know that?”)

“Use ya words, bitch. Are you mah slut ere not?” Daryl spoke lowly but with assertion, his accent becoming more and more noticeable.

“Yes! Yes! Oh fuck, yes!” You responded emphatically, not only answering his question, but letting him know how good he's making you feel. 

“You gonna cum all over this cock for me, sunshine?”

“Fuck, yes. Yes, I will. Oh fuck…” You're surprised you even answered his question with the state you were in, but you did, albeit breathlessly. Daryl chuckled and put a bit more pressure on your throat, moving up to the middle this time. 

The knot in your lower stomach got tighter and tighter, and with a couple thrusts to your sweet spot while rasping sweet nothings in your ear, you saw white, feeling your cunt drip with Daryl's cum down onto your thighs and roll down onto his. You almost collapsed forward, but you felt a pair of strong arms grip your midsection before throwing the knife away from the two of you with a flick of his wrist.

Daryl placed gentle kisses on the side of your neck and then your temple. He hugged you from behind, his cock still buried within you.

“Hey Dar?” He slowly eased your back up against his firm chest, making it easier for him to lock eyes with you. “Hm?” He purred.

“Can you do that again sometime?” You asked softly in between trying to catch your breath. He chuckled once again and punctuated it with a sweet, open-mouthed kiss to the lips. “Hell yeah, I will.”

~~~~~

God. I NEED HIM.

#daryl dixon #twd #the walking dead #daryl twd #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon smut #daryl smut #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #could be read as female or gender neutral #knife kink #knifeplay

[theemporium]

Yay congrats!

My order: a smut-berry daiquiri (21 - if you want to come, you’ll have to beg.”)

Hot hot, can’t wait!

thank you for requesting! i partially blame @hischierhoney for my feral nico mood🤠anyways, enjoy!

21. "If you want to come, you'll have to beg."

.

It was a stupid fight. 

An incredibly stupid, downright dumb fight that escalated far more than it should have. And to be honest, on any other day, it would have been a small fight that you both would have rolled your eyes and laughed at the very same day because it was stupid. 

Today, however, was not one of those days. 

It had been a cumulation of things that led to the tension in the fight: between Nico spending every free moment on the ice or at the rink and you being swamped with projects at work, the two of you hadn’t had time for each other. It was something you were both at fault for, and the work stress did not help the situation. 

And maybe—just fucking maybe—you missed having each other’s attention. But somewhere in the stress and the tension and the pressure, you both seemed to snap over something as stupid as one of you forgetting to unload the dishwasher. 

Which led to you giving Nico the silent treatment on the first day off that the two of you had lined up.

And you regretted it almost the second you started it because half an hour in, you missed him. You missed being able to curl up on his lap. You missed listening to him tell you stories about the boys that you had missed in the last few weeks. You missed standing in the kitchen, both of you moving seamlessly around each other whilst you cooked together. You missed him and his smile and his arms wrapped around you and—

You just really missed your boyfriend. 

But you were stubborn. One of the most stubborn people he had ever met and, despite knowing how you felt considering the fact you were lingering in the living room with him instead of locking yourself away like you usually did when you were mad, you weren’t just going to give in and break the silent treatment. 

Which meant Nico had to get creative with the ways he got you to finally break. 

“I—” You cut yourself off, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you felt his soft kitten licks against your clit. 

“C’mon, baby,” he mused, a hint of something teasing and smug in his voice as he squeezed the fat of your thighs. “Gonna keep hiding those pretty noises from me still?” 

You pressed your lips together, determined to bite back the moans you so desperately wanted to let out as you pushed your face into the arm of the couch you were currently sprawled on. 

“Hm, still being difficult?” He murmured, his warm breath fanning over your soaked cunt and you couldn’t resist the urge to buck your hips a little. “Look at my girl, so fucking wet and ready for me. Bet I could just slide right in, you’d take my cock so well. Like you always do.”

And at that, you couldn’t help but let out a pathetic whine.

“There’s my girl,” he hummed, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh as his hands pressed your hips down into the couch. 

“Nico,” you groaned, squirming under his hold with a small huff of annoyance when you felt him continue to give your thighs the attention your pussy wanted. 

“You finally done with the silent treatment?” He asked, spoken so casually like he was talking about the weather. Like his face wasn’t buried between your legs moments ago.

“Please,” you grumbled, your pride long forgotten as you glanced down, the sight of him grinning up at you with a few strands of hair in his face making your stomach twist with desire.

“Nuh uh, honey,” he shook his head, keeping your legs spread just how he wanted you. “If you want to come, you’ll have to beg. Let me hear that pretty voice.” 

“Nico,” you whined but he lightly nipped your inner thigh in response. 

“You sound pretty when you beg, baby, let me hear it,” he murmured before he leaned down, licking a slow, broad strip along your cunt. He delighted in the way your back arched off the couch in response. “I know my pretty girl can be good for me, yeah? Beg and make those pretty moans and I’ll make you come as many times as you want, schatz.” 

And truthfully, you would have been a fool to turn an offer like that down.

.

#cece's cocktail celebration #nico hischier #nhl #new jersey devils #nico hischer x reader #nico hischier x you #nico hischier x y/n #nico hischier fic #nico hischier one shot #nico hischier smut #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl smut

[astroph1les]

a confession & question [h.c]

summary: your girlfriend finally tells you what she’s been keeping from you and it is nothing like what you were expecting. hazel asks you to come to an event that tony is throwing and you go on a fancy shopping trip (funded by stark industries).

pairing: hazel callahan x fem!reader

contains: spider!hazel, secrets revealed, mature content: suggestive making out, & pure fluff!

word count: 3.8K

a/n: things are brewing and they’ve made up. i hope absolutely nothing bad happens :)

SPIDER-HAZEL MASTERLIST

It had been merely a day without contact with Hazel. You were battling between writing assignments for your online classes and stuffing bears at Build-A-Bear that day wondering how to approach this situation the correct way. There was no way in hell you were going to break up with her but you wanted to truthfully and honestly sit down and have a long talk about how she was feeling.

To hear her out, to be there for her in whatever way she needed.

Hazel was a mess. She didn’t attend classes that day — which had May up the wall — as she stayed in bed sulking over being an absolute idiot. She was sleeping curled in her soft brown sheets and when she wasn’t sleeping, she was thinking of ways to apologize to you and reveal what has been itching at her for months now; that she was in fact Spider-Woman.

Should she just send a text saying: ‘I’m Spider-Woman. Please, believe me?’

No, that’s weird and pathetic.

She needs to do it in person so she can prove it to her with her suit. But when? Hazel checked her phone every two minutes in hopes your little icon would be there with a message.

It was around 4 pm when she had received a call from Josie. Hazel was pacing her ceiling in her suit, practicing on ways to show you that she was Spider-Woman. She ripped her mask off and aimed her web to her cell-phone on her desk, pressing the green button to accept the call.

“Hey, Jose. What’s up?” Hazel answered, a soft sigh leaving her lips from the tension and pressure building in her head from being upside down for a good while.

“Well, good afternoon to you. Why the hell do you sound like you’ve run three miles in ten minutes?” Josie questioned as her fingers typed rapidly on her keyboard from the other end.

Hazel grunts as she un-sticks herself from her popcorn ceiling to land on her wood floors. She runs a free hand through her unwashed frizzy hair, shrugging her shoulders.

“Just… hanging around,” she makes herself smile.

“Okay?” Josie responded. “Is that a spider joke?”

Hazel was still grinning as she replied: “Yup.”

Even though Josie knew it was a corny joke, she couldn’t help the snort leaving her lips.

“Anyways, uh, Happy told me to call you to remind you about this Sunday.” Josie hummed as she clicked her mouse buttons.

Hazel’s brows furrowed at Josie’s words. Her mind went completely blank.

“Jesus, you forgot didn’t you?” Josie sighed at how silent the spider-girl had gotten after her statement.

Hazel winces as she rushes over to her calendar for the month that was hung up above her working desk. Her eyes darted to the coming-up Sunday and there was just a tuxedo that she drew. What the fuck does that mean?

When does she ever wear a tuxedo?

“No…?”

Josie released another disappointed sigh.

“The charity event Tony is having for Heart Matters. Happy is supposed to take you shopping for an outfit on Friday.” Josie hummed which made Hazel mouth ‘fuck’ as she rubbed at her temple.

Okay, so two things she really needed to do.

“Right, yeah. No, I have a tuxedo on my calendar.” Hazel lied through her teeth.

Josie merely hummed at Hazel, still rapidly typing on her keyboard.

“Is that all you called me for?” Hazel questioned as the line had gone silent.

“Uhh, yeah, pretty much. I’ll call you with… something later,” she ended the call without saying ‘bye’.

The line beeps before clicking off to Hazel’s home screen. She smiled weakly at the photo of you two, admiring the joy on your face and her own. As she continued to look through her album of photos of you, a notification popped up at the top of the screen.

Her heart rate sped up as you had sent her a text after the most agonizing 24 hours of Hazel’s entire life saying that you wanted to have a ‘serious’ talk. Hazel wiped her sweaty palms on her thigh to send you a response that she could come to your place. You told her that worked for you.

Hazel grabbed her mask from where she had tossed it on her bed and slipped it on over her head. This was it.

It was finally time.

You were waiting patiently in your bedroom to hear a knock at your door. In all honesty, you were willing to just let it pass. Tell Hazel that you were being dramatic and apologize until your lips fell off.

That is until your PJ texted you to stand your ground and not Hazel manipulate you which was a bit dramatic but you knew she was coming from a place of love.

Your knee bounced anxiously as you tried to distract yourself as the seconds ticked by. PJ kept sending you messages that you were okay and that Hazel was nothing to worry about. It was way easier said than done. You put on a movie on your laptop to pass the time to refrain from checking the time.

About halfway through the movie, you hear a soft tapping noise. At first, you excused it as rain hitting your window. But the tapping noise only increased in volume. You take off your wired headphones and turn your neck towards the sound. Your eyes widen at Spider-Woman… sitting on your fire escape?

You froze for a moment, not really knowing what to do. The webbed hero knocked one more time and it took you out of the shock. You walked over to the window and hesitantly unlocked it to lift it up. It somehow wasn’t even registering that this could’ve been an imposter that someone had a costume on.

“Hey,” the masked woman spoke, her voice sounding like it was deepened.

“Hello? I don’t mean to sound weird but… what are you doing on my fire escape?” You let out a weak laugh, raising your brows as you stared into the white of the eyes on the mask.

The woman pointed into your room and cleared her throat.

“I said I’d come over, didn’t I?”

This time the voice wasn’t deepened. Your eyes nearly shot out of your head when you realized it was Hazel behind the mask.

“Haze?” You questioned with an incredulous tone.

You step back away from the window as your girlfriend steps into your bedroom in a Spider-Woman suit. Was this her way of trying to cheer you up for lying to you?

“What are you doing in a Spider-Woman costume?” You question as you shut the window and lock it, staring at Hazel taking off her mask.

You weren’t going to lie to yourself when you think that she actually fits the suit perfectly; like it was made for her. Hazel usually wore extremely baggy clothing which she also looked amazing in but this was a nice thing to see every once in a while.

It was kind of hot.

“Well, it’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about,” Hazel cleared her throat, rubbing her thumbs over the material of the mask.

“Okay…” You stare at her with crossed arms over your comfy pj tee. “What? Are you Spider-Woman?”

Your tone was joking, a little snort leaving your lips as you chuckled to yourself. Hazel awkwardly laughed after you but just stared at you with a patient expression. Your laughter died as soon as you saw Hazel with a tight-lip grin plastered on her slightly flushed face.

You blink.

“I am Spider-Woman,” Hazel said slowly, hoping it would click in your head that this was nothing to laugh about.

“Spider-Woman?” You repeat to her in disbelief. “That person on the streets stopping burglaries, buses spinning out of control and a sort of Avenger?”

“Yeah,” Hazel confirmed.

You again blink. You take a seat on your bed as you examine the outfit your girlfriend is wearing. Hazel was scratching at her arm as she waited for a legitimate reaction.

Was this a joke? Why would she joke about something like this after the argument you guys had just had?

Your girlfriend is a superhero. A mutant. Your eyes widen as it settles in your stomach that she in no way is lying about this.

“You’re not joking, are you?” You cover your mouth with your palm.

“I can… prove it if you want,” Hazel rushes out, glancing up at your ceiling.

You, too, glance up at your ceiling with confusion as to why she did. That is until in the blink of an eye Hazel was hanging from your ceiling by her fingertips. You scrunch up your face at the sight, feeling like your brain is short-circuiting as you’re watching your girlfriend just dangling by her hand from the ceiling.

“What the fuck?” You whisper as you haven't moved a single muscle since you sat down.

Hazel released her body and landed back on her feet with a soft grunt. Her big blue eyes were waiting for a response.

“I— I didn’t know how to tell you before because Mr.Stark was extremely persistent on not letting anyone find out. Especially you and May but now you both know so I’m probably screwed but I don’t care anymore. I hate lying to you. I needed you to know so that you don’t think I’m doing it because I don’t want you to know. Do you know how hard it is to not tell you everything that I’ve done as Spider-Woman? I want to share everything with you and—“

“Hazel!” You interrupt with a light-hearted chuckle.

Hazel sucked in a deep breath due to her panicked rambling. You stood up from the bed and walked over to cup her face. You tilt your head to kiss her gently, inhaling as Hazel’s hands settle on your hips.

“Are you mad at me?” Hazel whispered against your lips, eyes fluttering when you pulled away slightly.

You hum and shake your head, running your hands over her shoulders. What was this suit made of? That material was surprisingly thick.

“Haze, I’m just… in shock, I guess. I mean, it’s pretty badass that my girlfriend is Spider-Woman.” You shrug your shoulders, tracing her jaw with your thumbs.

Hazel blushed at your words, feeling all the more at ease that you were not pissed with her anymore.

“I’m sorry again that I kept it from you,” Hazel sighed , her eyes flickering across all your features. I love you, she thought and almost vomited at the overwhelming feeling.

The two of them still haven’t said the three words yet. Hazel has known how for sure she was of her love for you within the first month. You, on the other hand, have been scared and hesitant to accept feelings so intensely because of your past relationship. Hazel never wanted to press and pry about something that was so personal.

It hurt to not shower you with the love that was pent up inside of her.

“Baby,” you shake your head, the pet name putting Hazel at ease. “I’m not mad. I wasn’t really mad, just afraid, I think.”

Hazel frowned at your timid voice.

“Afraid?”

Her sweet and comforting tone almost made everything come spilling out.

“It’s a me thing,” you scoff and wave your hand in hopes she wouldn’t focus on that.

Hazel’s big blue eyes were pulling you in though like she was hypnotizing you into spilling about your past. You needed to say something else to distract.

“So the webs come out of you?” You suck in a deep breath and you take one of her gloved hands into yours.

“Uhh, yeah. It feels really weird but I’ve gotten used to it,” Hazel explains but is still looking at you with worry.

“That’s insane. Were you born this way?” You trace over.

Hazel shook her head, watching your fingers trace the stitching of her custom suit.

“No, it was a spider from that field trip we took to that lab months ago. It died, like, as soon as it bit me. I didn’t think it was anything until I woke up the next day in a cold sweat, my senses heightened by ten and weirdly toned?” Hazel chuckled as she briefly explained her backstory.

You let out a breath that you didn’t realize you were holding in. There was something both reassuring yet terrifying about this. Hazel would be getting into danger pretty frequently and the thought of her risking her life daily made your stomach turn.

“When did you decide you were going to use your… power for something good?” You questioned.

“Well, you, actually,” Hazel admitted with a rose blush.

Your eyes soften as you mutter: “Me?”

“Yeah, I thought if I could protect the people of the city, I could protect you.” Hazel turned a shade of red you had only seen a few times.

It was sickenly adorable.

“Hazel,” you lean in to kiss her flushed cheeks.

Hazel shakes her head as she allows you to kiss her cheeks. You let out a few giggles as she tries to act like she isn’t enjoying every moment of your lips on you.

“You know,” you pull away to rank your eyes up and down her body, “this suit is kind of…”

“Kind of what?”

“I don’t know,” you begin to shy away, intertwining your hand in her back into your bed. Hazel follows you with narrowed eyes as she watches you.

“Is this,” Hazel motioned down to her skin-tight suit, “turning you on?”

You shrug your shoulders. “Maybe?”

Hazel nodded to herself, a flush on her cheeks.

“Really?”

“Baby, you always turn me on.” You tease as you grab her hand and shove her down on your comforter.

Hazel bounces slightly on the springy mattress as she stares up at you hovering over her face. Your knee was in between her lower thighs and your hands were on either side of her shoulders. Her blush deepened as a sly smirk was plastered on your face as you leaned down to kiss her slowly.

Her gloved hands settled on the soft of your waist, her thumbs skimming the waistband of your cotton pajama shorts. You hum as you pull away to kiss her jaw once. You adjusted yourself so that your knees were now on either side of her hips, straddling her red and blue cladded thighs.

Hazel’s eyes beamed up at you as you lifted your shirt up and off your body so that your lounging bra was the only piece of clothing on your body.

“Wait, wait, wait before we… get to it, um, I got to ask you something,” Hazel massaged your hips as she sucked in a deep breath.

You were trying to pay attention but her palms on you really weren't helping. You tilt your head as she speaks, watching her fumble over her words and her blush deepen.

“Would you want to go with me to this charity event that Mr. Stark is hosting for Heart Matters? I—I have a suit fitting this Friday and I’m sure that Mr.Stark can get you a dress too,” Hazel grinned up at you as your fingers played with the hair at the nape of her neck.

You pretend to think about it before giving her a few loving pecks on her lips.

“Are you kidding me? Of course, I’ll go with you. I haven’t seen you in a suit since prom.”

“Okay, this will be a designer brand. Not whatever me and May could grab at the thrift store,” Hazel grinned cheekily, rubbing at your sides.

“Hey, I liked that suit.” You frown.

There was even a photo from the photo booth at your prom on the wall right above your bed frame. Hazel's slightly baggy suit fit her so adorably, her tie matching with the color of your dress. It was one of your favorite photos of the two of you.

“Yeah, me too,” Hazel muttered before straining her neck to kiss you again.

Mid-makeout, you randomly remember that your girlfriend is Spider-Woman.

You’re sucking face with Spider-Woman.

You and Hazel approach the large glass doors lined with deep black . You squint one eye and raise your hand to shield your eyes from the glaring rays of the sun. Hazel’s hand interlocked with yours, giving it a small squeeze.

“Dolce & Gabbana?” You read the lettering, glancing into the empty store.

“Yeah, Mr.Stark insisted,” Hazel nodded slowly. “Happy should be inside somewhere.”

You give her a curt nod as you anxiously stare through the glass. You and Hazel hesitantly walk through the doors, instantly feeling out of place under the bright lights and sleek white floors.

You felt like everyone could see the poor on you.

Well, it was sort of obvious as you were wearing your beaten-down sneakers, a pair of baggy 90’s jeans and a ribbed graphic tee. Hazel sported a similar outfit except everything was a lot baggier.

“Can I help you?” A woman with a slicked-back bun and slim square glasses approaches you two.

“Uh, we’re here with Stark Industries,” Hazel grinned at her.

“Oh right. Mr. Hogan should be just down that hall for your customs,” the woman motioned her perfectly manicured hand down a long hallway.

“Thank you,” you tell her with a kind smile.

You try not to roll your eyes at her obviously fake grin. You walk down the hallway, hand in hand with Hazel as you round a corner. In a big bright room, there stood a man with a peppered goatee and a black and white suit and a woman in the same form of business casual.

Before you knew it, you were standing in the middle of a designer brand store with your girlfriend and her billionaire boss’s assistant watching you get sized for a custom-made dress. You never thought this would be something you’ve never thought you’d be doing.

Hazel was sitting next to Happy, both of them sipping on sparkling water. You felt slightly awkward as you had to squeeze into shapewear to make it much easier to get your dimensions. Hazel reassured you every once in a while that this was going to be perfect.

“So let me ask you something,” Happy cleared his throat as he set his tall glass to the side, pointing at you.

“Sure,” you grin, eyes wide and anticipating.

“How did… you two happen?”

Happy is pretty nice from what you can tell. He gives a teddy bear vibe, trying to be snarky and mean when he’s pretty sweet. Like now wanting to know the gossip of how you and Hazel’s relationship blossomed.

“Hazel was my stalker,” you tease your girlfriend as she turns beet red.

“What?” Happy’s face dropped for a moment, leaning away from her.

“No, no, we were in the same class senior year and we got partnered for a project. Then we just started seeing each other everywhere: her uncle’s bodega, the same coffee shops, thrift stores. Everywhere. One day she came up to me and asked if I was following her. I freaked out because it did seem that way but I like to think it was just meant to be,” Hazel spilled, twirling her few rings around her fingers.

“That’s our little story. I asked her if she wanted to come with me to try a new coffee shop that neither of us had been to. She kissed me on the first date,” you share with a chuckle.

Your eyes soften as the workers around you begin to ‘awe’ at Hazel’s rundown. Happy’s eyes flickered between you and Hazel’s blushing faces, a small smirk on his face.

“I did not think you would be the one to make the first move,” he replied, raising his eyebrows at Hazel.

You bit back your amused grin as Hazel scoffs. The sweet worker measuring your waist made eye contact with you, holding back her own grin as well.

“What does that mean?” Hazel frowned at Happy.

“No offense to you, kid, but you don’t seem like the type to make the first move.” Happy tried to defend Hazel.

She looked over at you with a frown. You scrunched up your face a little to show that you agreed. Obviously, you knew Hazel little moves here and there but she did give a nervous-unable-to-flirt vibe. But in a charming way.

To you, of course.

“Baby, if it makes you feel any better, I think it's adorable,” you beam at her.

Hazel nods to herself as you reassure her that you love how cute she is.

“There,” the worker measuring you finalized.

You stepped off the lit up platform, giving her a kind smile and a ‘thank you’. She pointed a finger at Hazel and curled it for her to stand on the platform that you were previously on. Hazel stood up from her seat to give you a gentle kiss on your cheek before taking your place. You take hers right next to Happy, glancing at him nervously.

“So, what’s it like working for superheroes?” You question, smiling kindly.

Happy took a sip of his drink before letting out a long sigh: “Amazing.”

His tone told you otherwise. You nod slowly, messing with the fabric on your legs as you wait for Hazel to be measured for her suit. Hazel stood eerily still which kind of freaked you out.

“Baby, breathe,” you state with a teasing smile.

Hazel released a breath as she sent you a weird grin. “Sorry.”

You knew Hazel tended to forget to breathe when she was put in unfamiliar situations.

“You know, you two are a lot cuter than I had thought. This one over here could not stop talking about you every single time we were alone,” Happy chipped in after another round of silence.

You beam at the man, turning towards him as you press for answers.

“H-Happy, you’re sworn to secrecy!” Hazel interrupted with a stutter.

Happy held his hands up in defense as Hazel’s eyes kept darting to you and Happy as the woman measured down the length of her arms.

Happy, even though being sworn to secrecy, leans in to whisper to you: “She’s a real sap for you, you know?”

Your heart flutters as you nod. You think about the many, many photos Hazel would send you of random updates throughout her day, the little gifts she got you, and how often she reminds you how much she cares about you. But you always make sure she receives the amount of gentle gestures she gives you.

You’ve never felt like this with anyone before. Well, you thought you’ve felt like this before. This time it felt true.

“Yeah, I know. But I’m one for her too.”

TAG-LIST: @atyourmerci @mih11 @camilleee222 @mxlti-fand0m-imaginess @alesbianperson @slaughtercarrie @cllhan @ahdbodhr @ih8chickentenders @bluerazberrystarz @sc0ttstre3ted @ilovevampires99 @sam-cooperrr @guzzlingplastic111 @rubycruzin4abruzin @cyberchomp @lucicorn72 @angelsknifeprty @lamolaine @cinnamonmilf @elliesprettygirl

#hazel callahan #bottoms movie #hazel callahan x reader #bottoms 2023 #wlw #sapphic #hazel callahan x you #ruby cruz #hazel callahan fic #spider hazel #spider woman

[vickyvicarious]

Oh yes, the feeling that you have to rely to the creeper who you loathe so much that you have come to hate even the rooms he resides in, that he's not the scariest thing in your life, that you have to run to his arms for safety. Horror! Dracula claiming him was the high point of the entry (than the almost-bite)

Honestly, yeah. The dynamics between Dracula and Jonathan are so scary, to the point that all the supernatural events are the cherry on top rather than the main course, as far as the horror of this section goes.

Dracula does so much manipulation here, holds so many different kinds of power over Jonathan, and multiple levels of each too. He's got physical power - both in the sense of the castle being a prison, and in the sense of his incredible strength. He's got social power - as a noble, and as a client/boss. He's got monetary power over Jonathan too, able to potentially make or ruin his career. He has so much control over Jonathan's ability to express himself - he's the only company available to him, he's forcing him to keep up a pretense of friendship, he's limiting and controlling his communication with others. Jonathan has no escape: he can't go out of the castle because he's locked in, he can't go many places inside the castle because he's locked out of them, and now he can't leave the rooms Dracula wants him in because otherwise the vampire ladies will get him, and within those rooms there is nowhere safe from Dracula himself. Jonathan has seemingly no action he can take: if he sneaks around behind Dracula's back, a greater threat awaits. If he acts openly, Dracula's own threat may become realized. If he doesn't act at all, he's doomed. If he acts at all, he's doomed. If he trusts Dracula, he's doomed. If he doesn't trust Dracula, he's doomed.

Of course, the supernatural elements are the mechanics by which Dracula increases the stakes, the threats underlying the charming veneer. Specifically, the introduction of the vampire women is what puts Jonathan in this seemingly inescapable box, and one with potential threats to something even greater than his life.

But Dracula's playing this Bluebeard role and could have done so with some more mundane threat as well, without changing too terribly much about his own actions. Where he's scariest (at least to me) is in these interactions with Jonathan, in these manipulative webs and traps he lays out in his words, in the way he pushes so many boundaries until they're forced to collapse or warp under the pressure. Jonathan's privacy keeps getting worn away. Dracula's speech and touch get more familiar and more possessive. He started out the first night blaming Jonathan for the things he did himself ('oh, why did you make your conversation so interesting we had to stay up all night?') and escalates until now he's making Jonathan be the one to act, and to suffer the consequences: whether in forcing him to lie to his loved ones, or in dangling the bait of sleeping outside his room and then only barely saving him when he does. And Jonathan has no real choice but to act. To fail to do so, in one way or another, would mean giving up all hope at escape or likely even survival. But because he has to act, he winds up feeling complicit. He ends up in situations where Dracula thanks him, forgives him, saves him. It keeps putting them on seemingly the same side, with Jonathan in a lesser/reliant role. And that's all a huge lie, at its core. But in a very real way, it's true too, to an extent. More and more, he's getting layers of resistance scraped away, and having to seek safety from Dracula now is so, so horrifying. In many ways all he truly has left is his will to live, his internal determination to resist - and now he's been given powerful incentive not to trust in that latter part too much. It's absolutely brutal.

He's walking a wire that just keeps getting thinner and thinner. All he can possibly do is try to keep this balancing act going, and hope for something to change that will give him more options down the line.

#dracula daily #jonathan harker #count dracula #rikiteekeetavee #replies #dracula claiming him was nearly the worst part of the entry. but for me jonathan's thoughts about it after the fact are even worse. #and it's not nearly rock bottom yet!

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ Somewhere Only We Know ♡

♡ Pairings: artist!boyfriend!hyunjin x fem!reader

♡ Genre: fluff

♡ Summary: Things have been hard for you lately so you retreat to your boyfriend's apartment where you find all of the love and reassurance a girl could ask for.

♡ Word Count: 1.2k-ish

♡ Warnings: None really but reader's been going through a lot so she is indeed a little sad tonight.

♡ A/N: This is a request from @jehhskz who I promised to write a literary hug for so I really hope I lived up to my promise. Thanks so much for the request you beautiful human.

The night hangs quietly over Hyunjin’s loft, the fresh earthy post rain air gradually filling the space. Seated at his desk facing the open window, Hyunjin hums along to the music flowing from the record player tucked in a nearby corner. Before him on the desk sits an open sketchbook, textured canvas paper coated in a gradient of pastels that mirror the night sky.

And seated on the floor between his legs, wrapped up cozy and warm in his favorite blanket, is you. Working with his pastels typically dictates that Hyunjin use two hands but tonight he makes due with one, the other preoccupied with more important things like playing with your hair or tracing the contours of your face.

With your head resting against his inner thigh he can only reach one side of your face but that’s more than enough room for him to silently praise those beautiful features that take up more space in his mind than you know. The tips of his fingers are delicate, each brush of them across your skin so deliberate that it’s almost as if you’re one of his paintings. 

Lately it seems that the whole world’s caving in on you. The pressures of life have begun to take their toll and it’s all so much…too much. What you’ve needed more than anything is a safe place to be, somewhere to get away from it all, and Hyunjin couldn’t be happier to be that for you. “Jinnie…” you say—the first thing you’ve said in at least an hour—and the scratching of a midnight blue pastel against paper comes to a halt. In an instant everything around him disappears. There’s only you.

Hyunjin reaches around, cupping your chin, and tilts your head up towards him. You lock eyes, him looking down and you looking up. His eyes are the moon, yours are the sea, and, oh, how he moves you. “Need something, sweetie?” he asks, strands of dark hair falling loose from the hair band keeping it out of his face. You shake your head, the tiny hairs on your arm standing up as he strokes the side of your neck. “No, it’s just…do you ever wanna…I don’t know, run away?”

Hyunjin gasps, pretending to be on the verge of tears, “She said I’m so boring I make her wanna run away.”

“You’re such a drama queen” you giggle, rolling your eyes, “It’s not that. I mean, I do want to run away but not from you. From…” Your chest tightens at the thought of what troubles you, stopping your words short.

Hyunjin leans down to kiss you on the forehead, grounding you in this moment with him. His way of reminding you that you are safe here. “From everything else? Just drop it all and run as fast as you can to escape it? I feel that way all the time. Way more than I’d like to honestly.” 

“So how do you get over it?” you ask, relieved to finally have someone who gets it. “Hmm,” he sighs, glancing out at the endless night and back down at you, “Someone once told me that when we feel bad things that’s just our hearts telling us that something’s not right. So we shouldn’t just get over it. We should pay attention to it.”

You shudder at the concept, paying more attention to what you’re feeling is the last thing you want to do. “But every time I think about it I get so upset. I feel weak.”

Hyunjin’s expression sours the second the word “weak” leaves your lips. Sitting back in his chair, he holds his arms out to you, “Come sit.” Staying snug in your blanket burrito, you make your way onto his lap, quickly adjusting to your new spot. Hyunjin laces his arms around you, holding you close to him like something too valuable to let sit unprotected.

“Never say that again” he says, empathetic but unwilling to let you doubt yourself, “You are not weak. You’re human. Life sucks sometimes and you don’t have to force yourself to be okay with it. Not for anyone.”

Fidgeting with a loose thread in the blanket’s stitching, you fight your hardest to choke back the tears that inevitably come streaming down your cheeks. Life may be overwhelming but this—being loved by him even when you’re falling apart—is overwhelming in its own way.

Hyunjin pulls the sleeves down on his sweatshirt, using the smooth cotton to wipe away your tears as they fall. “So, where are we running to?”

“What do you mean?” you sniffle, blinking through the tears. 

Hyunjin looks at you like his reasoning’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You wanna go so let’s go. Right now. We don’t even have to tell anyone. Let’s just…fuck it…let’s go.” 

“You can’t just go, Jinnie. You have that thing tomorrow and—” 

Hyunjin kisses you, wiping your brain clean of any thoughts of pushing him away. His lips play a game of catch and release with yours. Drowning you in their soft embrace, letting you come up for air, and dragging you back down again. “What’d I say to you when I asked you to be my girlfriend?” 

“You said, ‘It’s me and you’” you recall, as if you could ever forget. 

“Me and you and you and me and me and you” Hyunjin says faster each time until you’re giggling through what’s left of your tears, “We’re in this together. You’re stuck with me.” 

He lingers closely enough to your face that you could steal a kiss of your own if you wanted to and you do. Your body rushes with so much heat that you let the blanket fall away, exposing you to a light breeze. Hyunjin pulls you over so that you’re stadling him, his arms locking around your waist.

“Take me wherever you want,” you whisper, “As long as I’m with you I don’t care.” It gives him butterflies to hear you say that and you notice his cheeks begin to go all rosy on you. It’s the cutest thing. Hyunjin plants his feet firmly on the ground, lifting you up without warning, and carrying you towards the bed. You cling to him for dear life, only letting go once he has you safely on the bed. Even then the two of you can’t quite untangle from each other. Not that either of you try. 

“Cuddle tonight and prison break in the morning, deal?” he asks, lit up with all the possibilities of where you could escape to together.

You yawn, settling into the fluffy mattress, eyelids growing heavy, “Deal.”

Hyunjin pulls you in, your head nestled against his chest, and strokes your hair as he hums along to the music once more. You drift off to sleep in no time. Comforted, loved, protected, and safe in the knowledge that tomorrow won’t be like the others have been because you’ve finally let him in. Finally let yourself trust that it truly is you and him. 

And him and you and you and him and…

#stray kids x reader #stray kids x female reader #stray kids x you #stray kids fluff #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #hyunjin fluff

[johnslittlespoon]

omg it was so hard to pick butttt could i request 1 and 2 from the smut dialogue list (list 3) with buck and bucky!

prompts | "i want to hear you beg" + "arch your back for me" + playing around with smth a little different for their dynamic <33 ~800 words of filth below the cut >:-) this was so much fun ahh thx sm for the request!!

“Oh, baby,” John rumbles appreciatively, sitting back to get a good look at Gale while he rolls his hips languidly into him. “Look at you.”

Golden hair frames Gale’s head on the pillow like a halo, blue eyes half hidden by heavy eyelids, doll–like lashes fluttering each time John sinks his cock in deeper. Messy love bites mark a trail south, scattered across his chest and stomach and increasing in numbers where angular hip bones and soft thighs had just begged for John’s teeth to make themselves at home.

Gale rocks his hips down, dragging his kiss–bitten bottom lip between his teeth to muffle a needy little noise as John’s eyes rake over him. That just won’t do.

John stills, wrapping firm hands around Gale’s thighs where they drape over his own, squeezing gently.

“Keep going,” Gale breathes out, eyebrows knit together in frustration, still trying to fuck himself on John’s cock.

John purrs out a laugh, heart twisting in his chest at the glare Gale shoots him; it’s hard to look intimidating when he’s laid out pliant and pretty and cock–drunk beneath him, but John doesn’t tell him so. He just snaps his hips forward once, watching with satisfaction when the scowl leaps off of Gale’s face as flushed lips fall open to let out a gasp.

“John,” Gale almost, almost whines when he makes no move to continue, lithe hands coming up to wrap around John’s wrists imploringly, and John hums thoughtfully, stroking his thumbs over Gale’s thighs.

“You need something?” He tilts his head, feeling a little thrill at the huff he gets in return.

Gale levels him with an unimpressed look, but the light flush that creeps over his cheeks betrays him.

“I want you to ask for it,” John murmurs. He grants Gale with the smallest roll of his hips to egg him on when he stays silent, and he feels his hands tighten around his wrists.

“Want you to fuck me, John.” 

And oh, that’s something– his cock twitches at the rare vulgarity, and judging by Gale’s sharp inhale, he feels it. But it’s not quite what John’s looking for.

“That’s good, baby,” he praises him, delighting in the way his flush deepens. He leans down, sliding his hands up Gale’s hips as he goes, settling them on his waist. He brushes his lips against Gale’s in a ghost of a kiss, trailing them along his jaw until he reaches his ear.

“But I wanna hear you beg for me, Gale,” he whispers. 

The immediate pressure around his cock as Gale reflexively clenches down has his head dropping into the crook of Gale’s neck momentarily, cursing under his breath. He can’t help but press his hips forward, needing just a bit of relief, sitting back up once he collects himself, determined to keep the upper hand.

“C’mon,” he rasps out, running his hands up and down Gale’s sides, fingers splaying over his ribcage. “I know you can do it, angel.”

Gale does whine this time, high and desperate in his throat, eyes slipping closed to hide from his own embarrassment. But–

“Please, John,” he says, barely above a whisper. “Need you.”

“Jesus, Gale,” John breathes, head spinning. “Good, so good, baby.”

John’s not going to push– that’s already a lot more than he’s usually able to goad out of Gale, and he’s going to unravel a lot quicker than he intends to if he keeps talking like that.

“Arch your back for me, pretty thing,” John prompts instead, beginning to shallowly fuck into him, and Gale does, tilting his head back on the pillow to bare his neck as his spine curves beneath John’s hands.

The sight nearly knocks the breath out of John, and he groans, sliding one hand under Gale to flatten his palm against the small of his back, feeling the way it flexes as he jerks his hips forward.

Gale cries out so sweetly when he really starts driving his cock into him, grasping desperately at John’s arms, face going slack as he finally gives him what he needs, and it gets to John like nothing else, forever dizzy with the knowledge that he gets to make Gale feel so good.

Dragging those pretty noises out of Gale and feeling him tremble because of him is what really does it for John every time, and it’s what inevitably has him tipping over the edge seconds after Gale spills over his stomach with a broken whimper.

John sinks his teeth into Gale’s collarbone just to feel him squirm beneath him as he fills him up, hands digging into his hips, rutting into him like he can bury his cock impossibly deeper, feeling nails scrabble at his back as the softest mewls escape Gale’s mouth.

He laves his tongue over the fresh indents in apology before lifting his head to capture Gale’s lips in a messy kiss, swallowing his gasps and sighs as he gives him a few more lazy thrusts, chest warm and fuzzy and lovestruck. 

John smiles into the kiss, and Gale laughs softly, and god, he’s going to be the death of him.

#a bit of cheeky service!top john standing his ground for once because he wants to make his pretty thing beg? yeah <3 #little headcanon that some nights when john's in control he still knows not to push too hard or he'll end up pinned beneath gale lol <3 #sometimes it's a real effort to stay composed and in control because if gale wants to he knows exactly what to say to unravel john #but they both love the push and pull and the fight for control is half the fun some days mwah #buckbucky #clegan #johnslittlespoon asks #johnslittlespoon spicy #johnslittlespoon prompt fills #still taking request asks from the prompt list btw! just very slow at getting to asks atm bc i'm busy writing yad(iym) <3

[101maverick]

hey i saw your requests are open and i was wondering if maybe you could write smth hurt/comfort with jason please? like they had a big fight and then they make up after something happens🙌🏻

A/n: okok srry if it took me a few days but school and other projects are kicking my butt, hope you enjoy!! I decided to use your request to study Jason from a more ak! Point of view if that makes sense? I haven’t consumed the media but i’ve read some really beautiful works with him and hope it makes him justice :)

Word count: 1206 words

Execution At Sundown

Jason was at your place, sitting on the side of the couch with your tv remote by his side, cup of soda in his hand.

He still hadn’t shown you his face even after months of dating, and even though it stung you understood that it was a huge show of trust on his part, so if he was content sipping his soda from a straw that went under his mask you wouldn’t say anything about it and keep your feelings to yourself.

Everything had been going fine, you had just been hanging out while watching a movie.

It all hit the fan when you decided to go get another soda, rising up from the couch and padding down the hallway to the kitchen to fetch the drink.

After retrieving your drink you made your way back, and as the couch came into view you saw that Jason was now engrossed with something on his phone.

You didn’t think too much about it, just eyed the now empty soda resting in his left hand. On a whim, you walked up to his side of the couch and leaned over, going to grab his empty cup to replenish it.

Before you could do much more than make contact with the clothed skin of Jason’s shoulder though you found yourself being slammed back, loosing your balance and falling on your behind.

——————————

Jason reacted out of instinct.

One second he was relatively relaxed on his girlfriend’s couch, looking at a map of his territory for anything suspicious that might be going on, and the next there was a pressure on his shoulder, somebody leaning in and- “Why don’t you scream a bit for me, Todd?” and then there was pain-

He grabbed the body pressing in on him and pushed, slamming his attacker back and watching, half-standing and with his torso turned in a way that pulled at the knotted skin marring every inch of him, and even if the assailant was on the ground they still hurt him, that damned clown still dug his claws in and he always screamed but nobody heard him and-

Oh. It’s you.

It’s you, who had wormed his way into his heart in a matter of months.

It’s you, who had caressed the mangled skin of his hands and said “That’s okay” in response to the proof of him having been broken and put together crooked and wrong. As if it really was.

It’s you, legs sprawled on the floor with a bewildered expression on your face, wide eyes staring up at him in shock.

Jason stares back at you, his own features turned to stone under the mask as he feels his throat close up.

He had hurt you. He had thrown you to the ground. Guess the apple never falls far from the tree then, uh? Guess he was just like Willis after all, smacking around anyone without the ability to control his feelings. A rabid animal.

An animal. A pet. That’s what the Joker used to call him. What the Joker still calls him every day, in his wretched mind. A mindless thing, twisted and contorted to be ready to bend at his master’s will, and the fact he didn’t have one here anymore didn’t mean he was suddenly upgraded to ‘human’, did it? He was still incapable of controlling himself, succumbing to the green just like Willis had to the bottle. Not even capable of recognising his girlfriend the only person who had accepted his crooked form and chipped edges, throwing her around simply because even gentle and casual touches were ruined for him by that forsaken clown-

“Jace?”

The world comes back into focus, his eyes zero in on the spot of the wall he had been staring at in his haze and then shift down to you, now seated more comfortably on the ground. You haven’t moved, you haven’t come closer to him.

You’re scared of him.

Jason feels his throat constrict, and he punches the words out around the lump forming in his throat. “I- I didn’t- you were- sorry- I-”

Gosh he’s such a mess, can’t even explain to you how pathetic he is, how he still lets a fucking clown torture him with his mere shadow, and now you will realise the honeyed touches are not made for him, not anymore, maybe they never were, or else someone would’ve come-

Now you will realise that all those jagged edges are places you could cut yourself on. Now you will realise a rabid dog like him just needs to be put down for good.

He stutters out a last sentence for you, spits it out on your clean parquet, and even that feels too much like dirtying your sanctuary for his liking. “I- sorry, I’ll- I’ll go-” and he’s not even finishing his sentence before he’s stalking towards your apartment’s door, steps as sure as he can make them as he walks away from the only hands who had held him oh so gently, only like Catherine ever had, his mom, and he wills his legs to keep moving or else he won’t make it out of here for good-

“Don’t leave, please.”

Your voice is quiet, quiet as it breaks his heart and his resolve.

Because Jason has never been strong, and the little crack he can hear coming from his heart hurts but so does the knowledge he’s too weak to keep going the last few steps to your door, the few steps that’ll lead him back to how it was before and you back to a life of safety, free of the burden that is Jason Todd.

He turns around. You’re leaning in the doorway to the living room, staring at him on the other side of the hallway.

Your stance is relaxed. You aren’t holding yourself like you’re hurt. Your eyes are wide, and sad, but they’re not wary.

With his attention on you, you speak again. Your voice is soft, and now also kinda trembly. “I know I don’t know even the start of the story, but I know you have one and it’s the reason things like this sometimes happen.” Your eyes stare into the white lenses of the mask, desperately searching for his gaze under it. “I’m not gonna say it’s okay, because it isn’t.”

There it is. The proof he fucked it up, like is his design.

“It’s not okay,” you continue, startling him. He was getting lost again. He waits for the axe. “because something or someone hurt you, and you still suffer from it.”

He looks at you. Jason looks in your eyes, and gets the feeling you know he’s returning your gaze.

“I want to help you, Jace. Any way I can. Any way you let me. Because I know that when things aren’t okay, sometimes all you need is someone there with you to help you make it so.”

Your voice was sure through it all, but now it falters a bit. “So, so if you want, I could be by your side. If that’s how you’ll let me help. So, so don’t leave.”

His eyes don’t wander away from you.

And as he gazes into your eyes, glinting with the light from the tv bathing your side in neons, he knows that he never could.

The axe doesn’t fall.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #red hood #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd fanfiction #red hood fanfiction #hurt/comfort #dcu #dc #dc comics #dc universe #arkham knight #arkham knight jason todd #maverick answers #maverick’s prompt fill

[hippiegoth97]

Dr. Feelgood: Eddie Munson x Reader

Collage by Me :)

Master List

Tag List: @rafescurtainbangz @voyeurmunson @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @mediocredreams @slowandsteddie @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @babygorewhore @rattkween86 @violetpixiedust @bimbobaggins69 @purplehazed-h @morning-rituals @eddie-van-munson @msgexymunson @munsoneightysixx @impmunson @mysticalstar30 @jenniquinn @oneforthemunny @succubusmunson @ddeadly-succubus @prettyboyeddiemunson @sanctumdemunson @stalactitekilla @s6raphic @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne @ohmeg @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever @ahoyyharrington @micheledawn1975 @costellation-hunter @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @yourdailymemedelivery @spacedoutdaydreamer

Description: You meet up with Eddie to buy some weed from him. You've never smoked before, so he helps you get the hang of it. And the effects of the drug make you both very forthcoming about your feelings...

Content Warning 18+ Only: Drug use, swearing, female reader, smut, oral sex, fingering, unprotected sex, mentions of anxiety/depression and social pressure

Word Count: 5.2k

Divider by @strangergraphics

Dr. Feelgood

You've been so anxious and stressed about your midterms, you spend every waking hour lately studying. Flash cards, note-taking, reading the same vital textbook passages over and over. You know your stuff and are sure to ace everything, but your mind will not quiet down. Constant thoughts of potential failure outnumber everything else. You have so much pressure put on you by your family to do well. You haven't had the highest quality homelife, and have often gone without the things others thought of as a given. You've worked hard through all your years of schooling, trying to prove yourself worthy of something better.

Since your grades were unmatched by anyone in your graduating class at Hawkins High, you'd been awarded all the scholarships and grants you could have dreamed of. Your parents were so proud, but made a point to tell you to not ever let this greatness slip. Because the moment you do, none of your hard work matters anymore. One mistake, and it all ends for you. You know they just want you to succeed, to give yourself better than what they could manage to offer you growing up. Better than what they got from their parents. You can't let them down, let yourself down. Some days these thoughts are so overwhelming, they make your head want to explode.

You need some relief, or you're definitely going to do the one thing you've always been told you can never do. You'll blow it all and fail. You need to give yourself a break. You need something to calm your endless nerves. So you call Eddie Munson, your local dropout drug dealer. When he first picks up, he seems surprised that you even know his number. You'd been given it by a close friend before graduation, you weren't even sure Eddie lives in the same place. But he does, and he's more than happy to do business with you. You agree to meet at the picnic table in the woods behind the high school. His famous selling spot. You dress casual, just wanting to get your weed and get out, and you head on your way.

Eddie makes it to the spot before you, as you find him sitting atop the table. He has his feet on the seat, and his hands are resting in his lap. He hears you approach, looking up at you with a grin. "Well, well, well. You finally made it. You know, you're not very punctual for a bookworm." He hops down to take a proper seat, gesturing for you to join him. "Step into my office."

"Okay." You take a seat across from him, keeping your distance. You don't remember him being so cute before. But his joking nature and overall look seem to be having a special effect on you. You fidget with your hands nervously, not saying anything. You want him to do all the talking, you feel somewhat embarrassed just being here. It isn't like you to do this sort of thing.

"So, what's got you calling me for illicit substances, Y/N?" He looks at you, seemingly at least slightly concerned. He notices your hands, and your leg nervously bouncing up and down. "You know, we don't have to do this if you don't want to. I can pack up shop and leave right now. We can pretend it never happened." He starts putting his 'goods' back into the lunchbox he brought it in. But you don't want him to leave, you don't want to chicken out. You know you need this.

"No!" You say a bit louder than you mean to. He looks at you cautiously, raising an eyebrow. "I mean, I just-" You look down at your hands, unsure how to form the right words. You sense him still staring at you oddly. You meet his gaze again. "I'm just having trouble coping. With school. I'm working on studying for midterms and I know that I know my stuff. I've been testing myself nonstop, for weeks. I can barely sleep, or eat, or think. I just-" You pause. Realizing you're just dropping all this on him when he doesn't need it. He's not your friend, or your boyfriend. He's just here to make some quick cash. "Nevermind. It doesn't matter to you. You aren't here to listen to my problems. But money is no object, I've been saving up from my job at the supermarket. So just give me whatever you recommend, and I'll get out of your hair." You look down again, cheeks burning bright red at your over-sharing.

He must think you're stupid, just another goody goody who can't handle the pressure. You're sure he'll tell all his D&D buddies about it later and they'll have a good laugh. You're holding back tears now, he'll probably laugh in your face if you cry. You sense his weight leaving the table, and he walks around to your side. He sits down beside you, legs facing outward, back leaning against the table. He lifts your chin with his finger to get a look at you. He notices your eyes threatening to let the floodgates open, and he gazes into them kindly.

"It does matter though. I may just be a lowly dropout who deals drugs for money. But I make a habit of hearing who I'm dealing with telling me why they need things from me. I don't want anyone to get hurt, that's not what drugs are for. At least not to me." He smiles gently, no ounce of joking or mocking to be found. "So, please, continue. And don't hide your face anymore, it's too pretty for that." He lets his hand fall away, but you keep your head up. He's waiting attentively to hear the rest of your story. You're taken by his genuine interest in you, what you're saying. You suppose it could be he doesn't want any accidental deaths on his hands. Nothing more.

"Well, I just have myself all amped up over the exams. Like, what if I fail? Then all of my hard work is null and void. I'm just another disappointing member of my broke family. Working dead-end jobs for the rest of my life, struggling to get food on the table. I can't go back to that. I can't let them down, Eddie." You start to sob, tears rushing down your face. He just listens quietly, nodding along. "I can't be what everyone thinks I deserve to be. Always poor, always below everyone, always having less. The world doesn't respect people like that."

You can't talk through your sobs anymore, and they make your body shake violently. You feel sick, stupid, exposed. You move to put your face in your hands, wanting to hide. But Eddie stops you. He takes your hands in his. Eddie's hands are large, warm, and soft. You gasp slightly through the sobs, your palms tingling excitedly at his touch. "Y/N, I am so sorry you feel like this. But I think you've got it all wrong."

"What?" You knit your eyebrows, preparing to yell at him for mocking you. But you wait to see how he explains himself.

He takes notice of your change in face. He shakes his head. "What I mean is, you are the smartest person I know. Fuck it, you're probably the smartest person in Hawkins! I understand the stress and pressure you're feeling, I got that a lot until I was deemed a waste of time."

"Really?" You don't mean to sound doubtful of him, but he doesn't take offense.

"Yes, really. But I think your issue is that you think the whole world is watching, waiting for you to screw up so it can turn on you. But it's not. I also think that because you're the first one in your family to get this far, it's scary. It's unnatural territory. It's okay to be scared, but you can't let the fear overtake you. You'll work yourself sick trying to keep up with unrealistic expectations. I know you'll pass those tests, but even if you didn't, it doesn't matter. At least not as much as you think it does. One failing grade isn't the end. You get far more chances than that. I should know, I used all of mine! You just don't know since you've never failed in your life before. Does that make sense?" He asks. His hands leave yours once your sobs have mostly subsided.

"It does make sense. But it's not that easy to make the thoughts go away. Can you help me quiet them down at least?" You gently place your hand on his thigh. He tenses slightly at your touch, but he puts his hand over yours, squeezing it.

"Sure thing, princess. If anyone deserves some stress relief, it's you." He turns to reach for the lunchbox, dragging it over with his fingers. You figure it's time for you to get ready to pay him, so you reach for your purse. He swats your arm, shaking his head again. "Oh, no. You're not paying today. Consider it a gift from an old friend." He smirks as he portions out some weed for you. He puts it into a plastic baggie, and zips it closed. He hands it out to you. But you realize you have no idea how to use it properly. "What? Are we being picky now, Y/N?" He's genuinely confused.

"No, I-" You feel embarrassed again. "I just haven't done this before. I'm not sure how to, either." He must really think you're stupid this time.

"That's no problem, I can help you." He says matter-of-factly. Eddie places the bag back onto the table, and pulls out some rolling papers from his box. He looks over at you a moment, noticing your burning cheeks again. "Really now, Y/N." He tuts at you. "There's no need to get all flustered and embarrassed about it. Everyone has their first time. Even I did once, a long time ago." He winks at you, focusing again on the task at hand. He opens the bag, and sets to work rolling a blunt for you. When he finishes, he shows it to you with a flourish. "Ta-Dah! Your first blunt!"

"Well done, Munson" You giggle at his theatrics.

He chuckles back, then gets down to business. "Alright, now I'll light it for you and show you how to inhale properly." He gets up onto the table again, sitting cross-legged on one end. He gestures for you to follow suit, and you move to sit in the mirrored position. He lights the blunt, inhaling deeply. He holds the smoke in a moment, smirking at you when he lets it go. You giggle again, taking in how strangely hot he looks doing that. He hands it over to you, and you just copy him. You inhale, and do your best to hold it in. But you end up coughing violently, letting all the smoke out. "Shit, I should've told you to take it easy at first. Sorry 'bout that." He smacks his forehead at his forgetfulness.

"It's fine, it's my own damn fault for trying to dive right in like that." You make a second attempt, gentler this time. You successfully hold it in and release it. Eddie applauds you, making you blush again. You hand the blunt back over to him. You take turns passing it back and forth in silence until it's all burned away. After a short period you start to feel the effects. You feel like you're moving through molasses, like in dreams. Your head is light and airy, your body buzzing. And then you find yourself in a giggle fit. But you can't seem to figure out what's so funny.

Eddie begins laughing too. "Ladies and gentlemen, we've got a giggler!" He gestures at you, laughing heartily. He leans back, almost falling off the table. You lunge forward to catch him, moving to his end of the table. You just barely grip him by his shirt collar, saving him from the fall. You pull him back into his original position, but you're still gripping his shirt. Your face is very, very close to his. You're both silent now, the only sound is your panting breaths fanning towards one another. You let his shirt go, moving back slightly.

"Almost lost you there, freak." You joke, a quiet laugh shared between you to break the tension.You sit directly in front of him now, your knees touching his. Your eyes are fixed onto his. You reach your hand forward to touch him, and he grabs your wrist.

"Whatcha doin' there, Y/N?" Eddie asks, giving you a curious smile.

"Can I?" You gesture at his face, almost compelled to see what he feels like. He nods, assisting you to caress his cheek. He lets your wrist go, and you continue to touch him. His eyes flutter closed as your hand moves slowly down his jaw, his neck. You stroke his chest over his shirt, and then move to his arms, using your other hand now too. He hums lightly at every move you make, eyes still shut. You move to his ankles, knees, thighs. Your fingertips feel so strange while touching him, but it feels so good you don't want to stop. But he opens his eyes again and stills your movements. You look at him, confused.

"It's your turn now." He says quietly. He reaches forward, touching your face now. Your skin lights up in flames and buzzes as he mirrors all your movements. He reaches your chest, apprehensive to make moves there.

"It's okay, go ahead." You whisper to him. He wastes no time, gently running his fingers along the curves of your breasts, and your own eyes close now. You moan slightly, you've never felt these sensations before. It's like you're flying, but still grounded. He moves to touch your ankles, knees, thighs. His hands stop, laying gently on your thighs. You open your eyes, meeting his gaze. He looks different now, feels different. He looks at you with his mouth slightly agape.

"Do you want to keep going? It's okay if it's too weird." He says, not wanting to pressure you.

"It's not weird. It feels really nice. I want to feel more, if that's okay." He nods, leaning his face closer to yours. You lean in as well. Your lips are just a whisper apart. You're both panting again, waiting to see who makes the first move. You decide to be brave and close the gap, pressing your lips gently into his. He kisses you back, his hand reaching behind you to grip your hair. Your hands pull on his shirt collar, yanking him forwards as you lay down on the table.

"Mmm." He grunts as you're moving him with you. Eddie's leaning over you now, his knees on either side of yours. The kissing gets rougher, he bites your bottom lip. You gasp, allowing his tongue to slide in. You moan as he explores your mouth, his hands still tangled in your hair. Every movement, every touch is amplified by your weed-induced state. It's like you're moving in slow motion, each kiss lasting hours. You never want it to end.

"Eddie, everything feels really good. Is that normal?" You ask dumbly.

"Well I would hope so, Y/N. Don't tell me you've never done anything sexual before either!" He teases, smiling down at you. You playfully smack his chest.

"Of course I have, Eddie. I just mean, everything feels...I don't know...just better I guess?" You stumble over your words as they lazily fall from your mouth. It's hard to keep any thoughts straight like this. You find yourself giggling again.

He chuckles slightly. "That's one of the many magical perks of marijuana, doll. Everything is better. Food tastes better, movies are funnier, sex is mindblowing. Emphasis on the last part." He lowers his head down again to start kissing your neck. You moan loudly. It's like he's lighting fireworks on you with his mouth. Your hands go into his hair now, and you can't resist the urge to tug at it a bit. He groans when you do so, looking up at you from where he was working on your neck. "I see you've found one of my weaknesses, princess. Be careful with that information." He grins, before returning to his work. His hands move to grope your breasts, squeezing them roughly. It causes you to moan again. He moves one of his knees between your thighs, grinding it slowly against your clothed core. You're so wet, you're sure he can feel it through all the layers between you.

"Fuck, Eddie!" You whine, feeling so many sensations at once. You swear you could cum just from his current actions. He chuckles into your skin, and nips at you.

"We'll get to that all in good time, Y/N." You laugh at his poor joke. You pull his head up to yours, smashing your lips together again. It's as if your whole body is being boiled alive, and you're desperate for more. You pull away from the kiss again, trying to lift your shirt over your head. He helps you, discarding it into the grass and fallen leaves. The cool air hits your skin, making you gasp. "Too cold?" He asks. You shake your head.

"I couldn't possibly be hotter right now." You sound so needy, becoming embarrassed again.

"Well, I disagree. Just you wait until I'm through with you." He just can't help himself, can he? He lifts you up to reach your bra clasp, undoing it with ease. The bra falls down your shoulders, and you toss it away. He takes a moment to get a good look at the view of you topless. Your tits are at attention, your nipples hard in the cold air. His breath hitches at the sight. "Goddamn, you look so gorgeous like this. You have amazing tits by the way." He leans down and starts on your neck again, using a hand to massage your left breast. You moan his name. His lips slip down your neck and chest, leaving open-mouthed kisses along the way. He licks the valley between your breasts, then nibbles the skin. He moves to your right one, taking the hardened bud into his mouth.

"Jesus fucking Christ, everything feels so good. Too fucking good." Your breath is fast and hot, your body reacting to every touch to an unbearable degree. His knee is still working your core through your jeans, making you so unbelievably wet. You tug his hair again, wanting to get some reaction from him. He groans loudly even with his mouth working on your tits. You realize Eddie still has all of his clothes on. You push him off of you gently. "You're overdressed, baby." He sits upright, pulling his shirt over his head. You take a moment to look him over. His tattoos, toned chest, and the simple necklace make your eyes widen with lust. "You look so beautiful, Eddie. I hope that's not weird to say."

"Not at all, darling. I pride myself on lookin pretty." He smirks, still upright. You reach up to pull him back down to you, and you run your hands up and down his chest. He groans when you drag your nails down it, leaving red marks along the way. "Careful with the claws, babe." Your arms reach onto his back, scratching him again. He moans even louder. "Fuck, you really like pushing my buttons, don't you? You're playing with fire, exploiting my weaknesses like this."

"I guess it's just nice to know you have them." You reply, smiling up at him. A mischievous grin forms on his face.

"Well I'm sure you have plenty too. I mean, you've already been pretty vocal so far. Sounds like I don't have to do much to make you come undone." He says, his tone laced with danger. You lay here silently, realizing what you've gotten yourself into. He gets off of you, and stands in the grass next to the table. "Move to the edge of the table, love." He says plainly. Like an order.

"Okay." You obey instantly, sitting at the edge, legs dangling over. He stands between your thighs, putting his hands on your waist. He kisses you softly, leaning you both so you lay down. Once you are, he stands up straight again, moving his hands to your thighs. He squeezes the flesh roughly, rubbing his clothed erection against your core. "Fuck." You mutter as you watch him.

"Let's get you fully undressed, shall we?" He slips your sneakers off, and your socks. He undoes your jeans, pulling them off roughly. You're only in your underwear now, feeling very exposed again. He brings a hand up to slowly stroke your heat through your panties, the wetness you've built up seeping through the thin fabric. "Mmm, you're so wet. Is that all for me?" He asks as moans fall repeatedly from your lips. He pulls your underwear off, putting them in his pocket. You open your mouth to protest, but he shushes you. "I'll consider them a gift from an old friend." He chuckles, taking a moment to drink all of you in. Your shocked face, your perfect tits, your beautiful legs. His gaze falls on your pussy, and he can't help but stare. You're so wet and shiny for him, dripping slowly onto the crisp leaves below.

"See something you like?" You slyly question him. He meets your gaze with lust-filled eyes. He doesn't reply, only nodding. He drops to his knees in front of you, gripping your thighs again. He kisses his way from your left knee to just before the spot where you need him most. You moan when his lips meet your inner thigh. He continues on the other side, teasing you with his pace. He's directly in front of your pussy now, his warm breath fanning over it. "Eddie, please don't tease anymore. I need you." You plead. He responds by licking a long stripe from your entrance to your clit. "Fuck!" You practically scream. Eddie takes your curses as fuel to the fire. He licks your bundle of nerves ferociously, like the man is having his last meal. He inserts two fingers into you, pumping in and out at a punishing pace. You keep involuntarily bucking your hips off the table, causing Eddie to grip you tighter in place. His tongue and fingers work you over. Curses, moans, and Eddie's name spill from your mouth like a mantra. He's got you under his spell, and he has no intention of letting you go anytime soon.

"You taste so good, Y/N. So fucking sweet." Eddie says breathlessly. He resumes his work on you, tying the knot in your belly tighter and tighter with every stroke and lick. He worries his teeth on you gently, causing you to gasp. You're so close you can't stand it.

"Fuck, Eddie! Please, right there! Make me cum, I'm so close!" You cry out to him, desperately asking for release.

"That's my good girl. Make a mess for me. Cum on my face." He says just before he sucks your clit into his mouth. You feel the knot snap, and you swear you've been shot into outer space. Your legs shake violently, and you feel yourself dripping onto Eddie's face. He licks up every last drop he can, causing your cunt to spark as your high subsides. He finally gives you a break, standing up to look in your fucked-out eyes. "Fuck, Y/N. You are so unbelievably hot." He leans over you, pressing a kiss into your lips. You moan as you taste yourself on him. He stands again, bringing the fingers he used on you to his mouth, sucking them clean while staring at you.

"It's your turn now." You slide off the table, kneeling before him. You grasp his belt, using it to pull him closer. He assists you in undoing it, and you pull his jeans down to his ankles. He kicks his shoes off, and tosses his socks away. He steps out of his jeans, leaving him just in his boxers. You reach up and palm him through the thin material, causing him to moan. You pull his underwear off, letting his cock spring free. You waste no time taking it in your hand. You stroke Eddie slowly, before licking the tip in circles.

"Shit, Y/N." Eddie gasps, letting his hand fall to your hair, gathering it into a makeshift ponytail. You take as much of him in your mouth as you can, swirling your tongue as you move back and forth on him. He lets out moans and curses frequently as you work him.

"Mmm." You hum around him to rev him up further. You drag your nails up and down his thighs, leaving light red marks behind. He falters, his other hand gripping the table behind you. He's breathing heavily, you look up at him. He looks so gorgeous like this, a light sheen of sweat on his skin, mouth agape, eyes screwed shut. He opens them briefly to look down at you, smirking again.

"It feels so good, Y/N." He breathes out. "Keep going, I'm almost there." You nod at him, picking up the pace. He moans again as you pump him mercilessly, gagging yourself as he hits the back of your throat. "Jesus, fuck." He chokes out, falling off the edge. You feel his release spilling into your mouth, making sure to swallow every drop. You release him with a pop, smiling up at him. "My, my. You're a master at giving head, darling." He offers his hand to help you stand up. Then he grabs you by the waist, lifting you onto the table. His lips attack yours, his hands roam all over your body. Eddie moves his mouth to latch on your neck again, you cry out when he bites you roughly.

"Christ, Eddie. I'm not a chew toy." You sigh contentedly. "Feels pretty fucking good, though." He responds by biting the other side of your neck. You gasp, digging your nails into his back. He stops to look in your eyes again.

"The weed will wear off soon, we should move this along." He lets you go, climbing back on the table. You turn around to see what he's got in mind. He lays down, motioning for you to come to him. "Come here and ride me, princess." You go to him, positioning yourself just below his cock. You lean down to kiss his neck now, leaving plenty of hickies on him. He moans loudly when you bite down on the skin. You lift yourself to your knees, taking his length in your hand. You move his cock slowly back and forth against your folds, causing both of you to whine. You look down at him, grinning as you sink down onto his dick.

"Fuck, Eddie. You feel so good inside me." You start to bounce gently on him, moaning his name over and over as he fills you to the brim. He's the perfect size to hit your g spot each time you come down on him. He grips your tits with his hands, squeezing them roughly, teasing your nipples between his fingers. Your moans grow in volume, and the sound of your skin slapping together echoes through the woods.

"You're doing so good, Y/N. You take my cock so well." He says, low on breath. You're both slicked with sweat, which makes the slapping even louder. He lets go of your tits to squeeze your ass. He moves you into a new angle in his grip. You practically scream as your g spot is being hit harder and better than before. Eddie also makes a point to thrust himself up into you occasionally, your moans catching in your throat.

"F-uck."You roll your hips as you ride him into oblivion. You sense another orgasm coming on. Waves of pleasure crash over you, building to a hurricane. Your pussy starts to clench around him involuntarily, and Eddie can tell how close you are. He moves a hand to rub your clit in gentle circles, making the waves crash harder over you.

"Keep going, darling. I'm close, too. Cum for me." He rubs your clit rougher now, and you feel the tropical storm overtake you.

"Oh, fuck! Eddie!" You scream, juices leaking out of you and onto his stomach. Your cunt clamps down on his length, which makes him groan as his own release overcomes him. Eddie's load spills into you as you keep riding him through your high. Your orgasm subsides, and you collapse onto him, still seated on his dick. You're both breathing heavily, and you can hear Eddie's heart pounding in his chest. His arms wrap around you, and he kisses the top of your head.

"You look so pretty when you cum, Y/N. Wish I got a picture of that."

"You can have one next time." You reply, not fully realizing what you just said until the words have left your mouth.

"Next time, huh?" He questions. Your cheeks burn as you realize he probably doesn't want to see you again. Why would he? You're nothing special. "It's a date." He says, and you sit up to look at him.

"You really want to see me again?" You're in disbelief, thinking this might be the joke now.

"You don't have to act so surprised, Y/N. I like you, and clearly you like me too. Now, maybe we should continue this conversation when I'm not still inside you. How's that sound?"

"Okay." You say quietly, feeling rather silly. You lift yourself off of him, your mixed release pouring out of you and onto Eddie's cock. You both look at it in lustful shock. You lean down to lick it all up, not leaving a single drop behind. Eddie watches you with wide eyes, and you just smirk at him.

"Jesus, Y/N. You just keep getting sexier by the minute." He pulls you into him again, kissing you passionately. He groans at the taste on your lips. You break the kiss, hopping off the table to gather your clothes. You hand him his, and you both dress quietly. Once you're fully clothed, you sit back down at the table. He's sitting with his legs outward again, and you're positioned sideways on his lap. You both playfully rub each other's arms and legs, sharing kisses and giggling. The weed has worn off now, and you wonder if that's all this was. But you still feel a fire burning inside you for Eddie. You're just worried he doesn't have one for you.

"Are you sure you like me, Eddie? It's okay if you don't." You look down at your lap, afraid of what he might say now that he's sober.

He lifts your face to look at him again, looking deep into your eyes. "I can tell you right now Y/N, I really like you. And I'm not one to lie. I get that you're worried about it just being the drugs, I can't say I wasn't either. But I want to be with you, high or not."

You don't say anything else, you just grab his face, pressing your lips onto his again. He returns the kiss, and you feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

The end.

#hippiegoth97 #smut #fanfiction #stranger things #eddie munson #hawkins #1980s #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader

[theworldofotps]

Painting (Drabble)

Pairing: Lord Debling x Reader Word Count: 743 Description: Y/n is struggling with a painting when she recieves some much needed help.

So, I have never written fanfiction for Bridgerton before but after watching the first half of season 3 and meeting Lord Debling I couldn't help myself. I'm also very nervous to post this because it's a bit out of my comfort zone but I hope you enjoy anyway.

Dedicated to: @madhatterbri who encouraged me to write this, helped form the plot and is overall one of the best. I appreciate you so much thank you! (I haven't added my normal tag list since those are usually just for wrestling. If you'd like to be added to a tag list of anything I write besides wrestling let me know!) __________ Y/n let out a soft huff as she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, staring at the canvas in front of her. She’d spent the last two hours trying to paint a bird from the book set on a stool in front of her. This was a painting she just didn’t want to mess up on but the more she stared at it the worse it seemed to look.

“Is everything alright m’lady?”

“Yes Ruth, just having a bit of difficulty getting these colors to work and blend the way that I wish them too.”

“Please let me know when you are ready, and I shall draw the bath for you.”

“Thank you, Ruth.”

Watching the maid leave, Y/n turns back towards her painting and examines the book once more. Adjusting the apron she wore over her dress to keep from ruining it, she dipped into her paints again. More time passed and her frustrations only grew as the colors started running and made the bird look like a mess.

Dropping the paintbrush in the pot of water she hung her head in defeat, deciding to just start all over again. Not having heard the door open she nearly jumped, feeling a pair of arms wrapping around her before a chuckle sounded in her ear.

“Sorry to startle you love I thought you heard me enter.”

“That’s alright my lord I just was focusing on something else.”

Alfred glanced around to be sure they were alone before pressing a soft kiss to her neck.

“Tell me what’s the matter.”

“I’m trying to paint this bird and all of my colors keep running I’ve spent hours on it but alas to no avail.”

Remaining silently as his eyes drifted over the canvas in front of them, since they had began courting he was trying to take interest in her hobbies. When he found out she had a love for painting much like his mother, it was one he quickly did his best to learn all he could about it.

“Allow me to offer my assistance to you.”

Grabbing her hand gently together they picked up the brush, the sparks of electricity she felt as they moved together dipping into her paint pallet. She could barely concentrate at the feel of him pressed against her back. When the brush touched the canvas, she let out a soft laugh.

“What is it brining you such joy my dear?”

“Your beard tickles my cheek.”

Y/n spoke softly as his own smile grew to match hers the two talking in soft whispers as he helped her fix the once ruined picture.

“What do you think?”

“It looks so much better thank you for your help now we both must sign it.”

She said pointing to the feather quill and pot of ink sat on the desk a few feet away from them, Alfred reached over grabbing the quill. Signing the name Debling then placing the quill in her hand so she could sign her last name.

Placing it back in the ink pot Y/n slowly turned to face him their eyes meeting hers lighting up as his softened.

“Miss. Y/n  I know this may come forth as a bit forward but may I kiss you?”

He asked a slight nervous quiver to his voice if you listened close enough she remained silently causing him to clear in throat. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel pressured into anything. After a moment her smile grew as she leaned closer to him their lips brushing in the softest touch before a knock on the door sent them apart. Composing themselves she turned to see Ruth entering one more.

“Excuse me miss but your mother is looking for you.”

“Thank you, Ruth please tell her, that I will be right there.”

Ruth nodded, leaving them alone again y/n sighing softly she turned back to Alfred who gently touched her cheek.

“I must be going as it is rather late, I shall call upon you tomorrow afternoon would that be alright?”

“Yes, I would enjoy that very much my lord.”

The pair left the room and y/n saw him to the front entrance, his fingers once more touching her cheek in a bid farewell. Watching him leave she sighed her arms wrapping around herself, the thought of his arms around her caused her face to heat up. Turning, she went off in search of her mother.

#lord debling #bridgerton fanfiction #lord debling x reader #bridgerton #lord debling fanfiction

[peachyogurtwithchocolate]

Harvey SDV Headcannons

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A/N: Hey there!! Im very new to actually writing on Tumblr so i just wanted to give a little warning.

I absolutely love it when people reblog my stuff so feel free to! All I ask is that you don't claim my stuff as your own.

And obviously as with all fanfics, these are just my opinions!

Word Count: (idk, I was too lazy to check)

Warnings: None!

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Before Dating (Friends)

I feel like Harvey doesn't communicate super well with friends. Obviously I know that he can only have so many lines in the game but even when he does speak to the farmer, its ALWAYS about work.

Lets face it: Harvey definetly isnt the bravest. But when he doesnt see you a couple of hours after you say youre going into the caves, there he goes, up into the mountains past Robin's house.

When Harvey finds you passed out in the mines, he freaks out internally. He tries to keep himself composed but you can tell by his sweaty palms and flustered appearance.

Harvey is very adamant about you having regular check-ups (and everyone else in Pelican Town, of course). Like this man will not leave you alone until he does the basics, such as taking your blood pressure and hearing for an irregular heart pattern.

Harvey is very awkward when it comes to gift giving. If he were to get the farmer as a secret friend at the Feast of the Winter Star, he would freak out.

After literal HOURS of searching through Pelican Town, I feel like he would settle on something simple like a wine, candle, or soft blanket.

If the farmer were to give him a gift at the Feast of the Winter Star that he LOVES, he woulf absolutely melt. He thinks its so emdearing to have a friend in Pelican Town that genuinely took the time to listen to him and pick out the perfect gift

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Falling in Love/Dating

While on the topic of the Feast of the Winter Star, I think that a gesture such as you giving him his favorite gift would make him realize that there was something between you

When he realized that he was falling in love, he distanced himself slightly. Harvey is totally the type of person who would never really think about the idea of love until he was faced with it. He probably had no idea what to do and just chose to ignore it for a while.

Harvey doesnt have the heart to just ghost the farmer, however, so eventually it comes to the point where every hangout just gets a little uncomfortable and awkward.

Once Harvey worked up the guts (yes that was a Dr. joke), he would ask the farmer out. It would start as a normal hangout, walking past the fountain near the community center. After a while, he wohkf convince you to take a walk up past the mountain and near the train station. A bouquet of flowers had been waiting for you at the end of the walk. Once Harvey had gotten over his anxiety, he would confess to you in a small speech that he had memorized. As soon as you said yes, he was a blushing mess.

If the famer got around to asking him first, however, Harvey would almost be embarrassed in a way if that makes sense. Deep down he knew that he didnt have the confidence to ask you out, but he still feels a little awkward about it.

After a short and sweet "yes" from him, you too were literally inseperable. Like I'm talking holding hands no matter what and sharing small pecks on the cheeks when nobody is looking.

Overall, falling in love with Harvey is a very sweet and wholesome experience filled with many awkward moments along the way.

#harvey x reader #harvey stardew valley #sdv harvey #stardew harvey #fanfic #sdv farmer #sdv #stardew valley #stardew valley x farmer #stardew valley x reader #stardew farmer #stardew

[keelt9]

Chapter 1

Masterlist

I collapse on the couch, letting my bag crash on the floor, taking a slow breath; all the walls have the same color, a creamy yellow, basic furniture already set, the only thing out of place is my suitcases… and me.

The apartment is a few blocks away of the rehabilitation center; Liam, my coach made all the arrangement for I just focus in my recover, in a couple of days we met the physiotherapist, a renowned one, Anton Guille, after a deep researched of the coaching team, he stand out as the best option for help me get through my injury.

The weather here is kind of cold, but I guess it is normal for the end of the winter, and fits perfectly with my morning. This day in particular it’s cloudy so before I leave the apartment I try to put on my hoodie.

Like a chronometer exactly after 30 minutes of his text Liam knocks the door, I rush for open as I try to put my hoodie on, just my head is in, and my shoulder is reluctant to move. 

“Here, let me help you.” Liam said as he enters helps me to roll it down. “Bad day?” He asks me if I feel more pain than usual. 

I grab my bag, and shake my head. “No, it’s…the painkillers are taking their time for work.”

Liams has that concern expression all over his face.

“Let’s go, or we'll be late.” I cut that thought by grabbing the keys and walking to the door, hearing him bluffing about something.

The center has those classic motivating colors, blue, green and white. As we walk to the room I keep watching different kinds of athletes training, doing rehabilitation, some with painful expressions, others with exhausted looks, and few of them with proud eyes.

We didn't have to wait because just after we closed the door, it opened again. This time, a tall man appears in sports clothes, probably in his early 30́s.

“Hello, you must be Y/N.” He walks and shakes my hand. “I’m Anton, I heard great things about you. Let me see what we are facing.”

Anton examines me with a long hard look, just with the simple touch on my shoulder I feel a hell all over my body.

“Well?” I asked him as he softly laid down my arm, he took a few notes and sat in front of us.

“It’s a severe bursitis; my biggest fear was that the damage already reached an important muscle but we are on time to avoid it.” The shoulder bursitis it’s a type of injury that used to happen for the excessive use over the shoulder, small “bags”, called <bursas> swelled up causing pain and stiffness.

I guess my expression must be talking for me because he takes a deep breath and smiles. “Don’t worry Y/N we will work harder and in a couple of months you must be brand new.”

Days passed and Anton along with Liam set a new routine for me, some changes in my daily activities and a lot in my exercises; some days I feel my body exhausted, others in a constant pain, slowly feeling my shoulder start to gain more range of movement.

“Easy Y/N, take it with calm, it’s the first day with this, don’t pressure your body.” The internal rotation stretch will help me to improve the rotation of my shoulder. Who will think grabbing a towel will be the most painful thing I do in months.

“Ok, slowly, that’s it, well done.” Anton helps me to relax my shoulder. “It’s all for today Y/N, go home, rest, sleep well, we see you tomorrow.” Liam gave me the last instructions before I went out.

I walked to the small garden the center had where a few athletes usually take their time for rest after a long session or just looking for fresh air. I checked my cell phone, stopping in the video of my team in our daily practice, even though they told me I shouldn't be sad; I can't avoid that nostalgic feeling. I was so distracted in the video that I didn't notice when my bottle of water slipped from my legs and got stuck between the crystal doors.

“Great.” I whisper, knowing that pulling it out will be a hard task. I slowly sit on the floor next to the door, seeing the wall across the garde, I stretch my left arm feeling with the tip of my fingers, the bottle not being able to grab it.

The irony of my situation makes me bluff, the only way to reach it is to twist a little bit my chest to give my left arm a few more centimeters, and grab it; as I do I feel a stabbing pain in my right shoulder. I grab the bottle but the pain is consuming me that the bottle slips one more time from my hands rolling through the floor.

I stand grabbing my shoulder but my bottle is already in front of me. “Here.”  

“Thanks, sorry I’m clumsier than usual.” I grab the bottle, by the time I raise my sight his face looks familiar, but the pain clouds any coherent idea.

“Injury?” He points to my bracelet, a sign that I'm in rehabilitation. Everyone who gets in the center and is there for rehabilitation gets one.  

“Shoulder bursitis.” He lends his head and pouts his mouth, I explain to him what is, he genuinely listens all the time.

“Sounds painful, still seems you're dealing really well.” I don’t know if it was sarcasm or a compliment. 

“I have to, if I want to be ready.” The Archery World Cup Team Event will be next year. If I want to be there I must be with my team for the primary competitions. 

“Hey Max, let’s go.” He observes that the person was at my back before extending his hand. 

“I’m Max, by the way.” I took his hand and shook it. “I guess I’ll see you later.” I nod to him before he leaves the garden.

Late at night in bed my mind with painkillers working, my mind clears. Tall, blue eyes, a curious face, blue cap with the logo of Red Bull, name Max. 

DAMN IT! 

#fic #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x female reader #max verstappen imagine

[grogumaximus]

As a performance engineer, he is the man who keeps an eye on all the data in a complex world like Formula 1 and leaves no stone unturned to see how to get even more speed out of the RB20. “For example, I can see how the tires behave individually, how high the temperature of the brakes is and how the hybrid systems of the engine behave,” says Hart in the Red Bull hospitality area.

Together with Lambiase, Michael Manning and David Mart, he is part of the regular group of engineers around world champion Verstappen.

“And GP is the one who talks to Max during sessions, so he has to filter all our information and assess what he finds relevant to pass on to Max. And then as a driver he now has an enormous library of experience. Max is ultimately the best sensor. He senses what he is up against and can make it very clear whether he wants to try something different and what exactly. He is very direct and knows what he wants. There is no room for politics or bullshit.”

In order to be able to empathize with Lambiase's work, Hart occasionally takes his position as race engineer, as was the case on Friday during both training sessions in Imola. Hart explains how a weekend is broadly divided.

“First we have to make sure that the car behaves as we expected. Then we look at how we can get more out of the speed over one lap. Where do we lose time in the bends, does Max feel limited somewhere at the beginning or at the end of such a bend? We then look at the longer runs and how we can protect ourselves against possible dangers.”

With the help of his engineer, a driver can adjust the necessary things on his steering wheel, for example when it comes to the brake balance or the differential. As far as Verstappen and Red Bull are concerned, the Azerbaijan Grand Prix last year is a good example of this. For Verstappen, that race in Baku was the turning point in the season.

“In those first four races, Checo (teammate Sergio Pérez, ed.) and Max were close together. But in terms of setup and the tools he uses, Max has gone in a completely different direction since that race in Baku. He has twelve so-called switch positions that he can use. He tested many of them in Baku, while normally you use two or three in a weekend. Max learned a lot then, and so did we."

Since that race in Baku, more than a year ago, Verstappen has not won only three races. While the Dutchman himself is almost never completely satisfied with how a race weekend is going, this also appears to apply to his engineers.

“Coincidentally, we were still talking about it together on Thursday evening. We as engineers are a bit like the goalkeepers in football. It's only when we make a big mistake that it becomes noticeable. We have to keep pushing to see if we can improve anything in areas where we are not yet performing optimally. And even if we are faster than the rest in every corner, we are still not satisfied and we look at where we have left something behind. Everything worked great in China, and then in Miami with the same car we didn't have the speed. And then afterwards you can understand so well why that is, here in Imola there is a completely different asphalt, the conditions are different and the tire compounds are also different.”

Given the immense pressure and expectations, Hart considers Verstappen's victory in 2021 in front of his own audience in Zandvoort as his personal highlight. The Englishman started working as Alex Albon's performance engineer in 2020 before being transferred to Verstappen the following year.

“With Alex we mainly looked at how we could close the gap with Max with the same material. With Max you look less at the other side of the garage. His experience, not only in Formula 1 but also with other cars, helps us. Actually, after a racing weekend I am also a kind of translator. In the debrief Max tells us what his limitations were. Drivers speak their own language. We then look at his words with the people in the factory in combination with the collected data.”

And yes, Verstappen may be the most important sensor, but he also sometimes has to rely on the information from his engineers on the pit wall and in the garage. They now have the complete overview.

“Especially in races where we play the longer game ,” says Hart. “We can see what the lap times of the other drivers are and how the different tires are worn. For example, if we say that Max needs to change something on his handlebars, he may well think: the balance is now just right. But then we have to prepare for later in the race. If you wait until the front tires are on, you will be too late. We always have to think one step ahead, otherwise you go too slowly.”

#i didn't know tom hart was the other guy whos always around max with gp n that he was alex albon performance engineer #also the baku'23 part is interesting #max verstappen #gianpiero lambiase #tom hart #better they fix whatever those imola setups tho 😄

[angelofsmalldeaath]

Hiii, same anon that requested the bath time with Andrew here…I loved it so much, thank you for taking the time to write it!!

I don’t want to bother you with requests and all but I just came with this concept/idea and felt the need to share it with you.

Andrew is a big dog lover (we have proof of that) and so is his s/o. They have Elwood from time to time but after he returns to his parents the house feels different so they adopt a new dog. After a few weeks, his s/o thinks that another one won’t hurt them…Andrew thinks otherwise. She doesn’t listen to him and brings another dog to the house. The man can’t say no to her so they live happily with two furry friends. But that’s not the end, she keeps seeing dogs around the property and brings them with her. She tries to find good houses/owners that could keep them but some doggies are too old or very wounded so she prefers to keep them around. Andrew has been on tour for the majority of the last adoptions 😅 and when he gets home he founds his s/o with the two “”original”” dogs and three more. He witness how she bakes something and the dogs are around her keeping her company…making his heart melt at the same time he accepts she’s going to keep them coming and he’s not that mad about it 🥺❤️

Sorry this is so long!! You don’t have to write it or anything, I would love if you do but please don’t feel pressured to…I just needed to share!

oh my god!!! my heart!! 😭

i tweaked this a little and this is much shorter since this is only a continuation of your ask, hope you like it tho!!

cw: very brief mentions of animal cruelty but absolutely nothing in detail

he comes home to an unexpected dog barking at him.

he knows their dogs know him, they would never do that—but this is not "their" dog. and before he can say anything, she comes running out the door, smiling sheepishly, guilt written all over her face.

"sir meatball!" she scolds him gently and the old dog whines like a puppy would, all sweet and gentle and nuzzling her leg. she pats his head.

"sir meatball?" he asks, about to say something more when another (unfamiliar once again) dog comes running out. this one's bigger than the last, this one's got crazy eyes and a loud bark and an almost feral face when she crouches down and scratches his head.

like magic the dog calms down and yips—chirpy little puppy yips that sound so odd coming from a dog his size.

"and this is bruce," she says, wringing her hands.

"bruce and sir meatball," he raises an eyebrow, utterly clueless. "have i...did i come back to some alternate universe?"

"no i..." she scrunches her eyes shut, shaking her head. "right, i have a good reason, i promise!"

"oh no..."

"oh yes!"

and then he has no choice really...he leaves his bags by the door, follows her inside and settles on the settee, waiting for this explanation, trying to maintain a poker face (which does freak her out a little bit more and makes her ramble before she can launch into a proper explanation.)

"so i found sir meatball—and i didn't name him, it was on his collar—abandoned. i called the number too and talked to the most vile man ever," her face twists into an expression of disgust and he tries to hide a smile. "the man, ugh, the man said, and i quote 'you can keep him for all i care, my son don't want a useless, fat, old dog anymore.' can you imagine?! he's not useless! he's a sweetheart!"

he tries not to show it on his face, but his heart melts then. "and bruce?"

"he's a rescue, from a dog fighting ring—"

"why were you at a dog fighting ring?!"

"i wasn't!" she protests, "someone at work told me about him, they rescued him and couldn't keep him and he needed a loving home and i couldn't let him go back to the shelters! they would have put him down for being 'too aggressive'. he's not, he's a sweetheart too, i prom—"

"darling, breathe..." he moves to sit next to her, places a hand on her knee in an effort to calm her down. "i—"

"you won't make me send them to other families, will you?"

her eyes are huge, shiny too like she's three seconds away from bursting into tears and oh if he were even capable of saying no to her in the first place, that one expression...that would have got him.

"i won't," he sighs, "of course not, baby, i'd never do that."

"i love you, i love you, i love you," she hugs him tightly, mumbling i love yous and thank yous until he laughs and hugs her back. the she pulls away and bites her lip. "there's lila too...she's a little shy..."

"oh god, have you adopted an actual child?"

"no!" she giggles, "lila is a golden retriever, she's very old but she's so shy. she's loves our first two dogs though. they're probably in the backyard. do you want to meet them?"

he sighs deeply, closes his eyes for a long minute. "do i have a choice?"

she doesn't answer...she just grabs his hands and pulls him off the settee. and without asking any more questions, he simply follows.

#hozier #hozier x reader #andrew hozier byrne #andrew hozier byrne x reader #requests #hozier fluff #writblr #writeblr #writers on tumblr

[purplecoffee13]

Mr. Sunshine - Part Four* (final part)

Summary: “You take Harry back to your dorm, things go down, and confessions are made.”

Wc: 2.5k

Tropes: grumpy!MC x sunshine!Harry

Warnings: SMUT, dirty talk, praise kink, overstimulation, gentle dom!harry

A/N: Happy Friday loves! I finished writing the last part of Mr. Sunshine today, and I wanted to share it right away! I loved writing this story line so much and I’ll definitely do check-ups on Sunshine!Harry. This chapter is shorter than the previous ones, but I almost cried while writing it. (this may also have to do with hormones, but oh well) enjoy!!!

Series Masterlist

General Masterlist

From the moment you and Harry are inside your room and the door shuts, his lips are on yours again. Your lips are tingling with how much they had missed Harry's in the short moment that you opened your front door. But now you were inside, walking backwards until Harry pushed you onto your bed, slowly climbing over you.

Your roommate had gone to her parents' house for the weekend, as it was her mom's birthday, so you had the room all to yourself tonight.

You let out the smallest fraction of a whine at the feel of Harry's fingers tracing up and down your body, feeling every last bit of you in the process. You feel the way Harry's lips cockily curls up before engulfing you into an even deeper kiss, with that sparking an even louder sound of pleasure from your mouth.

"Fuck. Such pretty sounds you make, sunshine." Harry says breathlessly in between kisses, his mouth leaving yours and latching onto your neck, kissing his way down. Your heat is on fire, at least it feels like that. Harry's touch is so familiar and it felt like it belongs on your skin.

"Harry..." you roll your eyes as he sucked on a sensitive spot on your neck, fondling your breast with his free hand. You wrap your legs around him in an attempt to bring him closer. You need him as close as he can get; you need him inside you.

"Talk to me, sunshine, what do you need?" He asks in a soft, teasing tone. You let out a whimper, your head too fuzzy to create any real sentences right now. When he senses that you aren't going to answer any time soon, he decides to taunt you some more. "I can't give you anything if you don't tell me what you need."

He lets another few seconds go by, and when still no answer fall from your lips, he starts to pull away. And just like clockwork, you break.

"No!" You yelp, propping yourself up on tour elbows. Your eyes widen at the sound of your own sudden desperation. You spot the amused glint in Harry's eyes, and sigh.

"I—... I need you."

The words leave your mouth in an irritated mumble, and it's when Harry realizes he's got you right where you've got him ever since that first project.

"C'mon sunshine, you can do better than that. Say it like you mean it." He demands, grinning from ear to ear as he leans over you again. You let yourself lay back on the mattress, and breathe. With his scent above you and in your memory, you allow yourself to let it all go. Let the pressure and the pride flow away.

"I need you, Harry. I need you so bad. Don't be mean, don't keep me empty... please?" You go against your own rationality, instead doing something that you've secretly longed your life to do, let someone else take control. Harry just stares at you, eyes nearly popping out of his sockets at your sly words. He swallows.

"Holy fuck... Of course, baby, I'll give you everything you need. Everything I have." He says, hiking up your dress and taking off your panties. Harry sits back, watching your wet cunt all spread out for him. He cannot believe you are here, lying in front of him with a hunger in your eyes that he only believed him to be capable of.

His thumb traces over your clit, slightly rubbing it. You gasp at the contact, it sending a shiver down your spine. With lazy eyes, you stare up at him, waiting for his next move. You squirm, the tender touch not being enough in the slightest. Harry laughs, tutting you as he shakes his head.

"Desperate little thing." He murmurs before sticking a finger inside your slick pussy. A strangled moan escapes your lips, your eyes falling shut at the feel of his long finger — and soon fingers, because he is quick to add another — pumping in and out of you. A string of sounds come from you as Harry keeps on digging his fingers in and out of you. He leans forward, his breath fanning against you ear.

"Is this good for you, sunshine?" He asks rhetorically, because the way you are crumbling under him is indication enough. He seems to know so too. "That's what I thought, baby. Just needed someone to take care of you, didn't you? Well, I'm here now. I'm not going anywhere."

His digits drive deeper into you, and you bit your lips to contain your moans at the combination of his fingers and his filthy words.

"Is that it, hmm? Need someone to take control? Take your mind off everything other than cumming over and over again?" Harry asks further, and you let out a strangled 'yes'. He chuckles lowly before leaning back, instead paying full attention to your pussy.

You let out somewhat of a scream when Harry's lips plant themselves onto your clit, your back arching from the sudden rush of pressure. Your orgasm is nearing, and Harry's lips will only have you riding out your high in no time.

"Oh my god... I'm going to cum—" but before you can even finish your sentence, Harry intensifies the suction on your clit, and soon you are coming all over his fingers. He makes sure to pump out your high, then softly taking his fingers out of you. You nearly come again at the sight of him sticking his own fingers into his mouth to taste your cum.

In a flash, you are reaching for his pants. You unbuckle his seatbelt and lower his pants and underpants, letting his cock spring free. You are about to return the favor he just gave you, but Harry puts your hands away.

"No foreplay for me, I just want to get inside of you." He says in a husky tone that has you melting for him. "Do you have a condom?"

Fuck.

"No." You say, your voice sounding strained as the word leaves your mouth. No! You can't believe you don't have a condom. Actually you can, because you didn't hook up with anyone in a really long time. But you couldn't not do this. You needed Harry inside of you. When he pulls away from you, you start to panic.

"No! Wait, no. Just get inside me. We can do it raw. I'm clean. I'll take the morning after pill." You start to plead, but it dies down when you see Harry grab his wallet and pull a condom out of it.

"You— you had a condom in your wallet?" You ask him hesitantly . He shakes his head.

"I have condoms in my car. I took some with me when you invited me in." He shrugs, wrapping the condom around his hard shaft. He leans over you once again, lining himself up with your slick cunt.

"You're sure about this?" He asks, the faintest hint of a smirk on his face, because at this point he is just making you suffer.

"Harry, stop teasing. I can't wait any longer, I need you so bad— ah!" You interrupt yourself with a loud moan when Harry pushes himself into you. He lets out an equal volume groan at the feel of his cock buried inside your pussy. He's been dreaming about this since forever. He never dared to dream he'd ram inside you after you begged for his cock. It strokes his ego in a way that nothing else ever had.

Harry begins pounding into you harshly, your whole body and bed moving along with his violent thrusts. You try to hold onto his arms for steadiness, but Harry has a different idea. He pulls up your dress over your head, but leaves it around your arms, forcing them to stay above your head. It restricts you from having further authority of how your body bounces around, and you are now completely at his mercy.

"This is it, huh? What you needed? Getting fucked so hard until the only thing your pretty mind can remember is my name?" Harry growls, throwing a leg over your shoulder so he can dive deeper into you. He succeeds at doing it, and his rewarded with a loud 'yes!' from you. "Just needed me to take the reins, right? So bratty for me during the day, but you just want to give all that control to me in between the sheets, don't you?"

You don't want to answer, and even if you did, you can't. Harry has been fucking you completely dumb for the past minutes and even the thought of a coherent sentence can't be processed right now. Harry laughs at the way you lay there,

"Don't try and deny it. The way you begged for my raw cock proves enough. Poor baby was nearly gonna cry at the thought of not getting my cock." Harry's thrusts become harder, having you nearly flying off the bed if it isn't for him holding you down by your hips. Your tits shake along and the sight of it is more than he can bare.

"Well you don't have to worry, sunshine. I'll  give it you whatever you want. Although, I'm sure that you'll be satisfied with whatever I choose to give you. You'll just lay there and take it, won't you?"

That's what does it for you. It takes you over the edge. Your eyes fall shut as you scream out Harry's name, and even the way he keeps on hammering into you fades for a second as the high hits you. By the time you see clearly again, you notice that Harry's pace hasn't faltered, and he is even circling your clit with his thumb.

With your jaw slack, you try to protest against the overstimulation, but every sound that comes out sounds like you are in total agreement with it. And you are, but you just haven't felt this much... ever.

"You need to cum with me, baby. I have to feel it." Harry orders. You scream out at the harshness of the circles he is rubbing, but the slight pain only inches you closer to the edge you had visited only a minute ago.

"G—gonna cum again, ah fuck!" You tell him, slowly opening your eyes to find his. "Come for me, come inside me. Please, please."

Harry's pupils dilate at the way you are begging for him. It is more than he can handle. His thrusts become sloppy as he lets out a string of curse words, hot spurts of cum spurting into the condom as he groans out your name. He lets himself fall forward, steadying himself with his arms, that lean against the bed on both sides of your body.

He leans forward, planting his lips against yours. The kiss is smooth and tender, filled with the love that has been pouring out since he saw you for the first time.

"I can't believe you're mine." Harry smiles at you like a fool as you run your hand through his soft hair. You cock an eyebrow, playfully.

"I wasn't aware we had established such labels yet." You argue, and Harry shakes his head, laughing at your need to have control over everything.

"I think that the fact that I'm still inside of you counts for establishment, does it not?" Harry counters with a smirk, leaving you speechless. Your silence soon turns into a chuckle, and you shut your eyes at how ridiculous this all is. Harry joins you in your laughter.

After a while, he pulls himself out of you carefully, studying your face to see if he is not accidentally hurting you. You hiss at the loss of the feel of him anyway, and it might hurt more mentally than physically to not have him fill you up anymore. It feels strangely empty. It is as that thought crosses your mind, you realize: you are utterly fucked. Literally and figuratively.

If you miss someone whose chest is still pressed against you, it is the result of the failure of your coping mechanism, and the success of years of trying. You look at Harry, who is now lying next to you, with big eyes.

"How did you do that?" You ask, scanning over his face.

"What?"

"Make love seem so easy." You blurt out before you can even become aware of what you just said. Your cheeks turn bright red once it dawns on you, and while you are sure your eyes radiate panic, his face is as calm and secure as ever.

"Because loving you is easy, sunshine." Harry answers simply. As if it isn't a big deal. As if he hasn't just confessed that he loves you. For some reason, he can't find it in himself to worry about you running away. It wouldn't have mattered if you did, he would have still said it. He just needed you to know.

Your eyes begin to water, and your ears are ringing in the aftermath of hearing a sentence you had always feared to be untrue. These past two years you had done nothing but keep your distance, from anything and everything, to the very point where you feared you could never change your mind if you wanted to. You were too far, and the wall around you was too tall for anyone to brave, including yourself.

And now you are lying next to someone who built a door between those bricks and waltzed through it as if entering his own house. How lucky you are to have someone change the construct of your mind's constraints and tell you it didn't feel hard, or difficult, or exhausting.

"Loving you sure is easier than tutoring you, Mr. Sunshine." You stifled out a laugh as your welled up eyes let a couple of tears roll over your face. Harry's mouth creeps up into a crooked smile, alike yours. He grabs your hips and pulls you on top of him.

"Mr. Sunshine, huh? Is that the title we are establishing?" He asks, stealing your answer away by interrupting you with a kiss. You let his lips run over yours, tongues dancing around each other, already having memorized each other's favorite steps. You lean back, nodding at him.

"You have always been more sunshine than me, anyway." You shrug, your fingers tracing over his chest. Harry's eyes analyze every bit of you, before locking with yours.

"Mr and Mrs. Sunshine, I like that." He hums in approval, his hands gliding up and down your upper thighs. You smile, leaning forward and letting yourself lay on top of him, head tucked in between his neck. Harry's hand immediately digs into your hair, toying with the strands as you take a deep breath. A full one, a safe one, a whole one. Harry's head shifts so his mouth his by your ear, and he whispers:

"I'll have you know that you are the biggest light of a person I know. You're not just Mrs. Sunshine, you are the sun, okay?"

You nod into his neck. "Okay."

#harry styles #fanfic #writing #blurb #fanfiction #harry #one direction #smut #one shot #excerpt #mini series #grumpy sunshine #grumpy sunshine trope