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#this poll took years off my life
alspacedout · 2 years
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thank you for your service kings 
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navybrat817 · 7 months
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Hollow
Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky touches on memories from the past and wants to start a new tradition with you.
Word Count: Over 2.3k
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal fingering, dirty talk, slight use of knife, established relationship, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: Fic #7 for Navy's Trick or Treat Nonsense! Newlywed Mob!Bucky won the poll.❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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A different side of Bucky came out when the leaves began to change. Subtle, but different. It wasn't noticeable to most since he showed people what he wanted them to see. It was a skill he perfected over the years, almost as if he wore a mask to hide his true self. What you saw, however, was ice in his eyes, the same that no doubt ran through his veins. Something weighed on his heart and mind.
You were determined to get to the bottom of it.
As his partner, it wasn't just your job to chase his demons away, but a need to protect him from whatever haunted or hunted him. You wanted to soothe him and let him know he wasn't alone. You knew if the roles were reversed that he'd eliminate anything or anyone that removed the light from your eyes. To have someone that loved you that much was still a bit of a dream.
How thin is the line between love and obsession?
“I can hear you thinking from here, Printsessa,” Bucky said. He knew you were watching him as he sat in his study, even as he focused on something else in front of him. He didn’t turn his back to anyone, except for you. He knew you would never put a knife in it. That was how much faith and trust he had in you. “Don’t want to join me?”
“I didn’t want to interrupt,” you replied, walking further into the room so you could get a better look at him. He had the sleeves of his button up shirt rolled up, giving you a moment to admire his metal left arm and the tattoos on the right. He commanded the room without standing.
“It's never an interruption if it's you,” he reminded you.
He twirled one of his signature knives between his fingers before he went back to work. The love of your life was an expert in many weapons, but had an affinity for knives. While it didn’t surprise you to find the head of the Bratva with a weapon in hand, you hadn’t expected to see a pumpkin in front of him. “Pumpkin carving? You’re just full of surprises.”
He snorted a little. “I like that I can surprise you.”
Watching him start to carve a pattern in the pumpkin with ease, his eyes narrowed in concentration and hand moving with care, was like a dance. He led with confidence and control. It was a beautiful thing to witness.
“Do you know why some people carve pumpkins?”
You finally took a seat beside him on the sofa, resting a hand on his thigh. His muscles relaxed and you wondered what had him so tense. “I think most do it today to decorate, but some do it to ward off evil spirits,” you said, moving your hand in slow, circular motions as he hummed in acknowledgement. “Is someone haunting you? Do I need to scare them away?”
He tilted his head, a glimmer of pride flickering in his blue eyes as he smiled. “You’d scare them away? You don't think I can handle them myself?”
“I have no doubt you could handle them on your own,” you said with complete certainty. He more than earned his Winter Soldier nickname. “But if something or someone is after you, I want to help.”
He studied you as he lowered his knife and covered your hand with his, holding it like a lifeline. Some protected and fought for him because it was their sense of duty. Others did so out of loyalty to his bloodline. You did it out of love.
Because you did love him.
“No one is after me. At least not today,” he assured you, bringing your hand to his mouth to kiss it. “But thank you.”
“Then why are you holding my hand like you can't let go?”
The look he gave you melted your heart a bit. “Because I don't want to let you go.”
It was almost as if he was worried you'd bolt if he released you. The only time you'd run would be when you wanted him to chase you. Or maybe he imagined someone would try to take you away from him. He'd never let anyone get you. “What's on your mind then?”
And how do I help?
“My family,” he admitted, your eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “My mom used to carve pumpkins. I haven't done it in years.”
You didn’t speak for a moment. His family wasn’t a topic he discussed much, so you didn’t want to say the wrong thing. “Did she teach you how?”
A faint smile appeared and fell just as quickly. “She did,” he said, admiring his handiwork. “I thought it was strange at first, you know? Encouraging me to pull out the insides and leave it hollow. And to carve a face? It almost seemed like a form of torture. Probably why dad demanded I use a decent knife.”
He didn’t hide the hint of anger when he mentioned his dad. You turned your hand over so your palm connected with his, letting him squeeze it to ground him. “But that’s not why your mom did it. She was teaching you to do something beautiful instead of harmful.”
“That's exactly what she did,” he agreed, leaning forward to pick up the knife. “It also encouraged my critical thinking skills. You can’t just dive in without a plan. You have to think it through.”
Bucky sometimes teased that his best friend, Steve, was the man with a plan. The truth was, they both were. Each brilliant in their own way, there was a reason they stayed in power and why so many feared them.
“And I felt proud when she displayed them. Valued,” he continued, his voice a little choked up before he cleared his throat. “It was a tradition I didn't realize I missed.”
Maybe the nostalgia was the reason his eyes looked a bit colder in the fall. “Sounds like a beautiful memory,” you said.
“I hadn’t formed beautiful memories in years until you came along,” he said, his lips skimming your temple. “But you're my family now.”
Tears didn't fill your eyes, but you felt them in your throat. The man was ruthless when the occasion called for it. Terrifying in his rage. You were the lucky one who would never be on the receiving end of it. Only his love. His need. But you could take his rage if you had to.
Like his old memories, you could make it something beautiful.
“You're my family, too,” you told him. You hadn't expected that of Bucky when you met and part of you wanted to stay away from the dangerous world he helped rule, but how could you not want a life with him?
His gaze softened, which warmed your heart. “And I would feel very proud if you helped me finish this,” he said, moving further back against the cushion and opening his legs for you to sit between them. “Maybe it can be the start of our own tradition.”
Your heart raced as you stood up and took a seat on the edge of the cushion, exhaling as he pressed himself against you. “I’m not good at this,” you said, closing your hand around the handle as he placed the knife in it. You didn’t want to ruin the intricate design he already worked so hard on.
His warm breath tickled your ear as he whispered, “We’ll do it together.”
“Guide me?” You asked.
“Of course, Printsessa.”
At the root of everything, Bucky was a man who didn’t want to walk this earth alone. Power and money meant nothing if he didn’t have someone to share himself with. It would’ve left him as hollow as the pumpkins he worried about carving as a child. And if helping him finish this one would make him happy, you’d do just that.
Time passed as he helped you cut into the pumpkin and urged you to follow the stencil, the smell from the pumpkin seeds off to the side bringing a pleasant layer to Bucky's woodsy cologne. There was something intimate about him having you close, his hand directing where yours should go. Like when he taught you how to properly shoot a gun. He said you didn't need his help, but he gave it to you all the same.
Your hold almost slipped when his metal hand snaked between your thighs, softly rubbing your pussy through your underwear. It barely covered your mound, just like your flimsy nightgown. “How am I supposed to concentrate?” you asked, arching as he firmly pressed his palm against you.
“You asked me to guide you. I will,” he said, the light scratch from his scruff making goosebumps rise on your skin.
“You're distracting me,” you whispered, trying to keep your breathing nice and steady.
“Would distracting you be so bad?” he whispered back close to your ear. “We're almost done.”
His fingers gently played with your clit through the fabric, drawing a breathy sigh from you as you squirmed. His almost feathery touch made you all the more determined to finish up, especially since he refused to let you close your thighs to get any friction. You were on the edge of release and he was relentless in loving you.
But he didn't let you come.
“Good girl,” he praised once you finished carving, stopping his fingers as you set the knife down. You bit back a whimper as the rising pleasure faded. “It's beautiful.”
“It is,” you breathed. Instead of a smiling face you saw on so many pumpkins around Halloween, he designed a merged sun and moon. “It's us, isn't it?”
“It is,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before he gestured for you to hand him another knife. “You're my sun.”
“That makes you my moon,” you said, stiffening when you felt the blade at your shoulder. “What are you-”
Bucky sliced through your strap and kissed your bare skin. “I'm starting a new tradition,” he said, doing the same to the other side before he slid your nightgown down. He dragged the knife across your exposed breasts, taking great care not to cut you. “Carve a pumpkin. Cut your clothes off. Make you come.”
“You mean tease my pussy without getting me off,” you said without much bite.
He chuckled, a deep rumble as he set the knife aside. “I always get you off. I’m going to make you feel so good, Solynshko.”
With gentle kisses along your jaw and neck, his large hand slid up to fondle your breasts. The rough pads of his fingers teased your nipples as you gasped and reached back to grasp his hair. He moaned as you twisted your fingers in the strands, his hand sliding down to your wet heat again. Thankfully, he didn't tease you through the fabric this time. His fingers dipped into your underwear and you knew he was eager to feel your arousal.
Everything in your core tightened when he caressed your folds. You met his gaze as you tilted your head back, wanting him to see your desperation as his gaze darkened. “Make me come, please.”
“People beg me for money. Power. Mercy,” he said in a low voice, nuzzling your cheek as he sank a finger in, your walls contracting around him. “Not you. It's only pleasure you ask for.”
“It's you I'm begging for,” you admitted in a whisper. Even when you pushed or questioned why he wanted you of all people, you gave him your love. You yielded only to him and you would never bend your will for anyone else. To deny him would be to deny yourself.
He brushed his lips along your jaw and dipped another finger in as you shuddered. “You begging for me to fuck your pretty pussy with my fingers? Make you ruin this couch before I give you my cock?”
Your head fell back against his shoulder as you bit your lip. “Yes, I am. Ruin me. Love me,” you moaned.
“I love you more than anything,” he promised as your eyes slipped shut, dots of white dancing behind your eyelids.
He gripped your jaw to turn your head back to him, seeking out your lips with his. There was nothing tentative in the kiss, his ice meeting your fire and creating an explosion of need within both of you. Your body hummed as you felt the peak of your impending climax, ready for him to tear you apart.
“Come for me, Printsessa,” he demanded against your lips.
Your pussy clamped around his fingers as you lost yourself to the daze of your orgasm, shamelessly crying out his name. Your juices dripped down his fingers as he helped you ride it out, praising you in your ear and guiding you the way he did with the carving. He was telling the truth before: He always got you off.
“Are you okay?” you asked once you caught your breath, the question you meant to ask the moment you entered his study. He seemed more at ease, though lust now clouded his eyes.
“I'm okay,” he said in a rough voice, slowly pulling his fingers out as you sagged against him. He pulled you closer, enveloping you in his strong arms. It was safe. It was home. “But I think you need my cock.”
“I think I need it, too,” you smiled once you caught your breath, knowing his cock likely twitched in his pants as he tasted you on his fingers. “And you owe me a new nightgown.”
“I ordered you a new one before you came in here,” he said, his expression smug as you turned your head to stare at him. “Now sit on my cock. We have a long night ahead of us.”
“Bossy Pakhan,” you teased.
But if giving you orgasms, ruining your clothes, and making new memories brought the light back in his eyes, you wouldn't complain.
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Oh, to belong to him. Love and thanks for reading! 🧡
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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hotvintagepoll · 1 month
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Propaganda
Katharine Hepburn (Bringing Up Baby, The Philadelphia Story, The African Queen)—This woman. I have been obsessed with her for years. I know the urban legend is a popular one at this point of her walking around set in her underwear when her pants were stolen and she was left with only a skirt, but the pants thing is honestly enough for her to be the hottest in the room in my book. She refused to wear anything else at a time when the public in general and especially the studios did not like that. She was independent, stubborn, and so so very capable. Competency kink anyone? Also, if you want one final way that Katharine's entire life was saying "fuck you" to the establishment, it started young! Her mother took her to suffrage events, and she never got rid of that attitude of justice. I feel like I have barely scratched the surface of all the ways she was such a badass that I'm turning into a rambling mess instead.
Gene Tierney (Laura, The Ghost and Mrs Muir, Leave Her to Heaven)— The class, the elegance. The way she walks into frame and immediately all focus is on her. She had a pretty lengthy struggle with mental health that she describes in her book, which I think made her all the more sensitive in portraying characters like in leave her to heaven. Also she dumped JFK so
This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Katharine Hepburn propaganda:
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I'm sure one million people will submit her as an iconic Hollywood star but that iconicness might lead people to forget just how insanely hot she was like she had it ALL she was skilled she was funny she was smart she was beautiful AND she was likely bisexual
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The single word I would use to explain Katherine Hepburn's appeal is *range*. In her acting career, that meant covering all the ground between lush period dramas and the comedies she did with Carey Grant and Spencer Tracey. In terms of hotness, it meant an uncanny ability to bring anything from a Dietrich-esque androgyny to some of the best Classic Hollywood Glamour you will ever see.
Katharine hep was so cool. The VIBES, the INDEPENDENCE,,, living life on her own terms.
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she just had this.... bearing to her, this power. she could be funny, even silly (like in bringing up baby) but also so regal and elegant. she was nobody's fool and dear GOD that's so hot
Fancam link
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She’s not only stunningly gorgeous (those eyes that pierce your soul! a jawline you could cut glass with!) but her delivery and physical presence in roles gives off confidence and authority in such a sexy way (truly the biggest dick energy of Old Hollywood). Her fiery energy in The Philadelphia Story? Unmatched.
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God she's. She's so hot y'all. She has the range!!!!! Funny and dramatic and lovely
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She IS the transatlantic accent. Classically gorgeous and such a strong personality.
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She's literally one of the funniest women to ever live! She goes shot for shot with Cary Grant in Philadelphia Story and we damn well love her for it! She's the most annoying creature to ever live in Bringing Up Baby but she's so insane and funny that we simply cannot help but fall in love with her (and root for her to give Grant an aneurysm!)
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i know she's accounted for but i really want to be sure someone has submitted the scene in bringing up baby where she's pretending to be a gangster
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She simply stuns onscreen; you cannot do anything but be captivated by her presence. Also a non-gender-conforming icon and mild tumblr celebrity by virtue of that one picture from The Warrior's Husband (stage play).
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Katharine Hepburn was out here casually changing the lives of young butch lesbians with her gender swag! She wore pants even when people said she shouldn’t, she refused to marry or have kids, and she wore menswear in at LEAST one movie!
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If I start thinking about her face for too long I will cry she is so so hot. Katherine is so charismatic and charming in everything she appears in - watch her adopt a leopard and fall in love with her. Also she has the biggest dick energy ever (she and her pal Lauren Bacall share that accolade). Also had an incredibly long and varied career from screw ball comedies to serious dramas - she’s a queen of the screen and I adore her.
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Someone's got to mention it, but she's won the most Oscars out of any performer and is largely considered one of the greatest actresses ever. She's got an incredible voice, an incredible presence, and she absolutely steals every scene she's in. She was private person and deemed standoffish and unapproachable, but she was also profoundly concerned for people's rights and was an outspoken supporter of abortion access. Finally, the Katharine Hepburn slacks look is just iconic. I mean look at her.
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(I hope someone else submits real propaganda but just in case they don't:) Cries. Screams. Wails. The woman who singlehandedly made me realize I was bi. A real "do i want to look like her. be her. or be with her.' crisis, where the answer was all three. Holy shit please all three.
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Gene Tierney:
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The entire plot of Laura is that a guy has to become completely obsessed with a woman after just seeing her portrait. This only works because Gene was cast in the role. I 10000% believe anyone could fall in love after seeing her face.
Those eyes! Just look at those eyes! She’s at her hottest in Leave Her To Heaven— I literally want her to ruin my life.
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Absolute grade-A babe, she is the perfection incarnate.
Gene Tierney was beautiful, poised, intense. I associate her with roles where she was murderous or an intelligent woman being patronized to - like a woman on the edge! As far as I am concerned, she deserved to do whatever she wanted.
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She had a slight overbite which was amazingly sexy, and a throaty voice that was very memorable as well. She’s terrific in Laura, which reminds me I should watch it again.
EYES!! Her diabolical acting in Leave Her to Heaven is just perfect, Rosamund Pike definitely took notes for her Gone Girl from her.
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Oscar-nominated and simply one of the most beautiful women to ever walk this Earth.
Absolutely stunning. In Leave Her to Heaven, she reaches Rosamund-Pike-in-Gone-Girl levels of “holy fucking shit?!?!?!” She had a fling with JFK in the ‘40s and also dated the exes of Rita Hayworth and Hedy Lamarr (Prince Aly Khan and W. Howard Lee, respectively). Sadly, her daughter was born with a disability (during a time in which there were few good mainstream options for disabled children and their parents), likely because of a fan who was sick with measles and went out of her way to meet Tierney (who was pregnant) anyway. Topical! Sure would be good if people stayed home when they were sick! Anyway, she was also a Republican, which sucks. Laura and Leave Her to Heaven are great viewing though.
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dixons-sunshine · 1 month
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Through The Good Times And The Bad | Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader
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Summary: Of everything Daryl wanted to do with you, fighting certainly wasn't on that list. However, in every relationship, there was bound to be disagreements, but Daryl didn't know if you'd forgive him for what he had said. It took one night for him to realise that you weren't going anywhere.
Genre: Angst to fluff.
Era: Pre outbreak.
Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams universe.
Warnings: Like one swear word, self deprecating thoughts.
Word count: 1.1k
A/n: Here's this short fic to make up in advance for the few days that it's gonna take me to write the fic that won the poll. Not gonna reveal too much about it, but it's called "I Never Lived For The Applause". I'll let your minds run wild with that.
As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests, as well as Scud Frohmeyer requests.
Stupid. That's what Daryl Dixon thought of himself. What he'd been thinking of himself for a whole week at that point. Stupid for lashing out at you. Stupid for what he called you. Stupid for not approaching you for an entire week. Stupid for not falling to his knees and apologising, begging for your forgiveness.
Sleep eluded him completely that night. How could he let that happen? How could he ruin the one good thing in his life? You'd been there for him since you moved to the trailer park when you were both merely twelve years old. You were his best friend, now his girlfriend, and he'd seemingly messed it all up in a matter of minutes.
Looking back, Daryl knew that he had been in the wrong. You were simply trying to help him, to reassure him that he didn't need his brother's approval, and he'd lashed out at you. He'd said some nasty things that someone as sweet and caring as you didn't deserve, all because you told him that he didn't have to help Merle with some stupid drug deal. He had seemingly damaged your relationship, in the end only to tell Merle no anyway.
Daryl scoffed to himself and turned over, wincing at the friction it caused on his freshly wounded side. His father had been relentless the past few days, bestowing beatings on him whenever he laid his eyes on his youngest son. Daryl had grown accustomed to sneaking out to your trailer when things got too bad to handle on his own, but now he didn't know if he was allowed to. He didn't know if you'd tell him to go to hell, and he wouldn't have blamed you if you did. You had every reason to hate him.
Frustrated by the inability to fall asleep, Daryl sat up in his bed. His body screamed in protest at his movements, the beating from only a few hours prior taking its painful root in his body. Trying to ignore the pain, he reached into his nightstand to grab a few painkillers you'd bought for him to help him when you couldn't. However, as his hands fell upon the bottle, his eyes caught sight of a Polaroid picture. It was a picture you had taken of the two of you a month prior. The picture was ridiculous; you had somehow convinced him to wear a facemask with you and had him pose with you for a photo. Despite the fact that he was against the idea initially, it definitely was one of his favourite memories with you. He loved you, and he didn't ever want to lose you.
Before the thought could fully register in his mind, Daryl was climbing out of his window and sneaking away from his trailer towards yours. He didn't know if you were still awake or if you'd even want to see him, but he needed to see you. He needed to apologise to you, even if you hated him. At least he would have gotten it off his chest.
In a matter of moments, he was standing outside your window. He hesitated for a moment, flashes of your argument a week prior flooding his mind. However, he shook the thoughts from his head and knocked on your window. Almost immediately, your lamp flickered on and your footsteps could be heard approaching the window.
Your window opened and without hesitation or demanding an explanation, you extended a hand to Daryl to help him climb in to your room. Once inside, he turned to you, ready to apologise, but you cut him off by bringing him into a comforting hug. You nuzzled your face into his chest, letting out a deep sigh. Daryl was caught off guard for a moment, but he wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head before resting his chin there.
A minute of silence passed between the two of you. You simply stood there in each other's arms, basking in the comfort the hug brought the both of you. However, Daryl soon broke the silence, guilt and regret gnawing at his insides.
“M'sorry fer wha' I said. Fer lashin' out at ya,” he mumbled into your hair, closing his eyes when he felt you press a kiss against his clothed chest. “Please know tha' I didn't mean tha'. Not a single thing. Yer perfect to me.”
“It's okay,” you reassured him, pulling back slightly to gaze into the beautiful blues of his eyes. “You were just mad at your brother. I don't blame you at all.”
Daryl shook his head. “Ya should. I never shoulda said tha' in the first place. I wouldn't blame ya if ya hated me.”
“Daryl Dixon, you listen to me right now,” you started sternly, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. “One little fight isn't going to scare me off. When I agreed to be your girlfriend, I didn't just sign up for the good times. I'll be here through the bad times as well. Nothing will ever change that. You're gonna have to do more than cuss me out for me to run for the hills.”
Daryl stared into your eyes for a moment, a small smile gracing his features. He nodded slowly, subconsciously leaning into your soft touch. “I love ya,” he whispered.
You smiled up at him before giving him a small kiss. When you pulled back, you rubbed his cheek with your thumb. “I love you too, you hard ass. Through thick and thin,” you assured him, before grabbing his hand and leading him over to your bed. “Now sit down while I go grab the first aid kit. By the way, you're staying over tonight. I'm not letting you go now.”
Daryl didn't mind the sound of that at all. In no time at all, you had cleaned his wounds, turned of the light and ushered him into bed. You had brought his head down to rest on your chest, and he wrapped his arms around you. You played with his hair, placing a tender kiss on his forehead, lulling him into sleep.
And for the first time that week, Daryl fell asleep without being plagued by nightmares of losing you.
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lizzieisright · 3 months
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hey hurt/comfort idea:
soo what about the reader and abby being best friends for years and reader always had a crush on abby. they go to a party and abby introduces her new gf to u. she always liked her but thought reader didn’t (always a bit horny around reader, but they know eachother since childhood so abby mistakes readers flirting as being flirty like friends) so reader gets absolutely hartbroken, drinks till she passes out but abby takes care of her ofc. abbys gf is always with her tho so it just hurts even more.
she avoids abby till the next frat prty or smth (maybe it’s college!au) and then they hook up, abby can’t remember cause she’s too drunk and is back w her gf
very messy but i hope u get the idea :P
(also to make it more hurtful make abby mean while she’s drunk bc she’s going through a rough time but isn’t telling anyone)
It took me so long, I'm so sorry
Palestine: what can you do
I've changed a few things (they don't hook up) because I can't deal with cheating, and I couldn't decide on what ending I wanted so there's a poll in the end.
Tags: Modern AU, childhood friends, Angst, pining and unrequited love, of course.
_______________
Abby is a fucking God, and you come to this conclusion when you're 11 and she helps you with your stupid assignment.
When you're both 14 you start to understand that what you feel for her is not, in fact, an admiration. 
You come to this conclusion when you sit in her bedroom and she jokes about teaching you how to kiss because you're a loser and you agree - and yeah, the kiss is a mess, but now you both know that you want to kiss girls. And you want to kiss one girl in particular, but Abby is your best friend and you won’t do anything that will lead to losing her.
Being a God means Abby is out of your reach and you have to live with your stupid feelings.
You're jealous of every boy who jokes around her to get her attention.
You're jealous of every girl who dares to look at her a little too long.
Abby is popular and she starts dating and it breaks your heart every time, and you can't look at other people because all your gods look like Abby.
"Why don't you go on a date?" Abby asks once when you're 16 and you're eating pizza in your bedroom, watching another marvel movie. "I think Jen likes you."
"I don't want to." What would be the point if the only person you want to date won't ever look at you this way?
"Why? Don't you get horny like the rest of us mortals?"
The worst part of being in love with your popular best friend is that she recently lost her virginity and she can't shut up about sex because she is excited about it.
"I have my hand, Abby." You roll your eyes at her.
"But it feels better when the other person does it." Abby winks and puts her hand on your thigh. "It's better, isn't it?" She rubs your thigh and your breath hitches. She looks at you, playful, and goes a little up on your thigh, and your face burns.
"You belong in horny jail, Anderson." You laugh, but don't move her hand: if you move it she'll call you a chicken, but she is a chicken enough herself to not move it further.
And she doesn't.
You live your life peacefully, dealing with your feelings as best as you can.
Then college starts and you're too busy to think about Abby 24/7 and you feel like it gets easier. Like you can breathe around her and you almost don't feel pain when she talks about her sex life.
Almost.
You know it's easy to deal with because all those girls in her bed are temporary while you're in Abby's life forever, and not because your feelings suddenly fainted. Abby likes to sleep around, she is a flirt even with you - a lot, actually, she thinks she can get away with a lot by saying she is touch-starved and then her hands wander off somewhere they're not supposed to be, and you let her, because you'll take whatever you can.
So you go through Abby's fuckboy phase with ease, because sex talk is way better than feelings talk.
A few years pass and suddenly the feelings talk starts, and you're slowly dying inside, because Abby likes someone. Abby talks about how nervous she is around her, she is always on her phone texting her, she is always busy when you want to spend time with her.
You hate this girl with all you have, because she takes Abby away, she takes everything away - Abby is not touchy anymore, she only hugs you briefly when you see her, she is not listening to you half of the time, too caught up in her fantasies.
You hope her girl is a bitch and an asshole and toxic so you can talk Abby out of it, but then Abby tells you she is going to introduce you at the party and you cry yourself to sleep that night.
"How do I look?"
"Like you need Jesus." You say honestly because Abby in the muscle tee and a pair of cargo pants makes you ache.
"Yeah?" Abby looks at you through the mirror with that fucking smirk she knows you like. "Am I fuckable?"
"We both know you prefer to be on the other end of that word, Anderson." You roll your eyes and put your shoes on only to straighten up to Abby's face way too close. She looks you up and down.
"You're very fuckable though."
"Fuck off." You huff and open the door of her apartment, hoping she won't tease you for being flustered. "Let's go before Manny gets so drunk you'll have to carry him. Again."
You spent the night in dread of meeting Abby's girl, dreaming of seeing her red flags or something to have a real reason to hate her to Abby's face, but then Abby lights up and she excuses herself to go and meet her girl, while you try so hard to not throw up from your nerves.
The girl is gorgeous.
"This is (y/n)." Abby motions at you and you smile politely. "This is Mia."
"I'm so happy to meet you." Mia smiles and she looks kind and genuine and fuck, you can't hate her. There's no jealousy in her, no fake smiles, no tense body language. "Abby loves you so much."
You swallow hard.
"I put up with so much of her shit, she doesn't have a choice." You joke and Mia laughs.
Mia is funny and cute and you understand why Abby likes her, because it's impossible not to. Mia is a type of girl that you'd think of as a bitch because she is popular, therefore arrogant, but when you get to know her she is a total sweetheart who'd help you find a way to your class if she notices you're lost.
This is hard.
This is going to break you.
You can't cope with this. You can't cope with seeing Abby's gentle gaze on Mia, with her careful touch and constant care. So you excuse yourself and go to the bar to get drunk, as if you can drown your feelings by dragging them to the bottom of the bottle. You dance and you drink, you dance and you drink and repeat it five other times until all long islands make you feel sick and you can't walk by yourself anymore. You're an independent woman and you refuse to ask for help, but when you can't order a taxi for the fifth time because your eyes are so blurry, Mia comes to you and holds you by your elbow.
"We will take you home, okay?" She says kindly and you feel your lips tremble. We.
"Jus- can you c'll a taxi f'me?" You slur, but you feel Abby's hand on your waist as she supports you. "Don't wanna ruin your night."
"You're not ruining anything." Mia says cheerfully and orders a taxi when Abby gives her your address. "Happens to the best of us."
The drive home makes you super dizzy and Abby has to put her hand between your head and the car door because you hit it all the time. The moment the car stops and Abby goes around to help you get on your legs, you throw up on the ground and it's a miracle you don't get everyone's shoes dirty.
Abby decides to carry you to your place and you can't shut up even for a second.
"I'm s'sorry guys. Not a good first impression. I really like you, Mia. You look kind. Like a grandma. In a good way, I'm sorry." Mia giggles. "Your laugh is very cute. It's cute, right Abby?"
"Yeah." Abby agrees quietly and what you don't know is that for her your drunken rant was way cuter than her girlfriend's laugh.
"Yeah. You look great together, I'm s'happy for you Abby. Haven't seen her that nervous because of a girl in years, can you imagine, Mia? You make this asshole nervous." You're chuckling sadly, you want to cry because you don't make Abby nervous.
No, you just embarrass her in front of her girlfriend because you're so pathetically in love you can't deal with it and drink half of the bar until you forget how to walk on your own.
Abby helps you change and Mia gives you water. She makes sure there is fresh air in your room and she tucks your blanket, and you close your eyes to hide your tears because Mia is so nice. She is a dream girl and Abby is so happy and there is no space for you anymore.
Because Mia took your place in that forever equation.
On the next day you text your apologies to both Abby and Mia (she followed you on instagram and asked you how you felt) and you can't deal with this. It hurts so much because you love Abby so much and you want her to be happy but it seems like the price of it is going to be your heart.
So you start avoiding her as best as possible, and what is more sad - it's not even that hard. Abby is always with Mia, fuck, Mia even asks you to come with them to hang out, which you always find an excuse not to. Library, fever, other plans, other plans again, sorry, paper is due tomorrow, my aunt is in town (she is not). Anything to not meet with them.
You still see Abby during classes and you give each other life updates, but it's been weeks since you actually hung out and you accept the reality that yes, there's no place for you in Abby's life anymore.
You cry every fucking night.
Then Abby suddenly remembers you exist and she asks you if you want to hang out, just the two of you, because she misses you. You miss her too and you agree.
You regret it the moment she cuddles you in front of her tv. She has a girlfriend now, why is she so touchy again? Did something happen with Mia that Abby came to you?
"Is everything okay with Mia?"
"Yeah, she is great." Abby says and buries her nose in your neck.
No. You can't deal with this.
So you start avoiding Abby at all costs after this - you can't shake the feeling that this is cheating, because for you Abby's touch has never been platonic, no. And it never felt platonic either, it was always giving you hope because Abby was flirting and touching the way friends don't touch each other. Maybe one day she'd finally give you a chance, you thought, but this day never came.
It is another party a month and half later - yay, Abby and Mia have been together for two months now! - and you don't know if Abby is going to come, but you hope she doesn't. You know she knows something is up and she will want her answers if she meets you.
But you have fun. You play games, you drink, you dance, you get flirted with and you forget about your pain just to get so drunk again you can't help but go outside to find a place to cry in peace.
You miss Abby, you miss her because she is a part of you and yes, you're in love with her, but she also your best fucking friend and you hate yourself for being in love with her, because it ruins your life. It has been ruining your life since you were fourteen and actually understood what you felt, but now it was getting serious.
"(Y/n)?"
Fuck.
You wipe your tears and look at Abby who is standing right in front of you.
"Hi." You squeak and she drops on the knees to look at you.
"Did something happen? Why are you crying?"
"I'm just sad. Don't worry." You try to smile but Abby's frown makes you cry more. "I'm going home anyway, so you can enjoy the party."
"What the hell are you saying? I'm not leaving you."
She should. She should leave you and not complicate it further.
Abby calls a taxi and you chuckle in your head - If you had a nickel for every time Abby was taking your drunk ass home, you'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.
You tell her as much because the meme is funny and you try to be positive.
Abby helps you out of the car and this time you don't throw up.
"You know, last time I totally embarrassed myself in front of Mia." You chuckle and make your way upstairs with Abby's arm around your waist. "She is cute, I'm so happy for you."
Abby chuckles and leads you inside your apartment, but between the two of you she is mostly sober and she has some questions, and she wants her answers. You know this too, so when you sit on your sofa you feel like all your shields are crumbling: you’re giving up on hiding this from her. If this is the end, so be it.
"You've been avoiding me." Abby says quietly, looking you in your eyes like she is just a little bit mad. 
"Yeah, I know." You admit with a chuckle. "You have a girlfriend now, it's so cool. When was the last time you liked someone like that? Back in school?"
"So you've been avoiding me on purpose." 
"I don't think you can avoid someone accidentally, Abby.” You say, not holding back your venom. “Anyway, I’m so happy for you.”
“Why are you avoiding me?” Abby moves closer to you  and you swallow your tears because there’s nowhere to run.
“Because it’s easier.” You shrug. “I just want you to be happy, okay? Does Mia make you happy?”
“Yeah.” Abby admits and you start crying again: it hurts so fucking much. 
“Good. It’s good. I’m happy for you.” You sniffle and Abby huffs, annoyed.
“Stop saying that. Stop avoiding my questions.”
Inside you all hell breaks loose.
“I love you, okay?” You finally burst. “I love you, and it hurts so fucking bad and I can’t fucking see you with her or know that you’re with her! What do you want me to do? What would you do if you were me? I can’t- I can’t-” You throw your hands desperately and bite your lip, too angry with this whole situation.
“I love you too.” Abby says, confused.
“No, no Abby, you don’t understand.” You’re quiet and angry, almost spitting every word out. “I’m in love with you. I’m not jealous as a friend, Abby. I’m jealous because I want to be in her place, okay? Fuck, I wanted to be in your every girl’s place since you started dating girls!” 
There is silence. You thought it would be terrifying - this silence - but right now you feel nothing except how dizzy your head is. You feel empty and there's no tears anymore. Abby stares at you in shock, her fists clenched, and you chuckle cynically. 
“So can I continue avoiding you now or should I suffer more?”
“Fuck, (y/n)..” Abby sighs and rubs her forehead, going over her face with her palm. “Fuck. Don't do this to me.”
“Well.” You huff, annoyed. “Not like I have a fucking choice, Anderson.”
Abby throws her head back and stares at the ceiling while you do the same, trying to keep your drunk ass stable. You feel like eternity passes before Abby speaks again, and it is strangely comforting, having your best friend here with you, in this boat of pain, and sharing it with her. 
“All these years. All these years we could have been together.” Abby sounds like she is mourning. 
You thought your heart broke when you met Mia? Forget it, it's broken now.
You sob, howl almost, and Abby is suddenly holding you in her arms, placing kisses to your hair. Her heart can't handle seeing you cry, never could - yes, she tried to move on with Mia, and it worked partially, but all her effort went to shit just now. You're the most precious girl to her and nothing can change it. Abby swallows and braces herself, suddenly making a decision in her head, all her anxiety about what is a right thing to do gone. 
“You know what? Fuck it. Fuck all that time we've missed. I'm not letting you go now.” Abby says in your ear and you sob even more violently. “Come on, baby, I'm here. Let me see your face.”
You can't believe it. You can't even process it: is it your drunken dream? Are you hallucinating? It would definitely not be the first time. But you look up at Abby and she gently wipes your tears and there’s so much love and hurt in her eyes it’s hard not to break into another sobbing fit. 
“I've been in love with you since we were seventeen.” Abby smiles at you and you shakily smile back. “I’m sorry it came to this. But I'm here now.”
“I love you.” You say feverishly and Abby's restraint breaks.
She kisses you hungrily, practically devouring you, and you're weak, so you return her kiss and press into her, soaking in her warmth and strength. Abby is solid and tender, she holds you like she cares and you cling to her for a moment.
But then you remember yourself and push Abby away, shaking your head.
“No. You're better than this. You're not going to betray Mia like this. I'm not going to let you, Abby. We're not doing this,” You motion between yourself and her. “Behind your girlfriend's back. And I'm also fucking drunk.”
Abby chuckles and kisses your forehead. 
“Come on, I'll help you get into your bed.”
Everything else after is a blur as Abby helps you change and covers you with your blanket, and you fall asleep. You can't wait for the morning to come.
****
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bitchlessdino · 1 year
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Do it already (m)
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Pairing: best friend's brother!Chan x afab!reader
Genre: smut, slice of life
Word count: 6.5k
tags: actor!chan, childhood friends!chan, possessive!chan, yearning!reader, plot rich, reader with tits, reader masturbation, kitchen counter sex, reference to drugs, oral (giving and receiving), mouth fucking, choking, spanking, pussy slapping, degradation (slut, whore), praise kink, unprotected sex. tender love and care
Summary: You and the Lee siblings were like three peas in a pod. That didn't last long when Chan went for his dream and left you and sister to yourselves. That was no problem since she was the best friend you could ever have. Now he's back, hot, fit, oozing sex appeal and you're wondering what it'll take for him to rail you like a train on tracks.
author note: this banner took 3 minutes to make. It's take a lot shorter if i didn't have so many spelling errors. point is this banner is the coolest bc i found a template already premade. it's been a while since i wrote a lengthy chan thing that wasn't just smut so, here you go. enjoy! and thank you to everyone that voted on the poll to make this happen. also, every thought the reader had been once my own, I overindulged once again
tag list: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @honglynights @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han
You remember Chan eating dirt at the ripe age of 5. You were the cause of it. You thought it was funny to make a dirt and worms pie with real dirt and worms. You were right. He’s hated you since.
His sister, Chanmi, agreed with you. She thought you were really funny. Chan eventually got over the dirt pie, and found it incomplete without your presence. You became best friends after that and basically followed them everywhere. You always wanted siblings and since mom couldn’t afford to push out anymore, you settled on being fake siblings with the Lees.
Then Chan decided to pursue his dreams when he was 14. That was okay. You had more in common with Chanmi, anyway. His disappearance made you and Chanmi closer. She relied on you and you doted on her. It was a mutual symbiotic relationship. You couldn’t see a life without each other.
You ended up in the same college as well, living across the hall from each other in the same dormitory. Now you really couldn’t see a life without her. 
When it was time to graduate, you really worried you’d drift apart by now. When she reassured you wouldn’t, you trusted her word, as she trusted yours when you made that same commitment. It was time to commemorate it, so in came your joint graduation party. Your families and mutual friends had joined together and celebrated the end of an era. You would now go off into a world that you feared more than it would fear you. But you had Chanmi. You couldn’t imagine a better person to do it with.
Chan had hardly crossed your mind in all these years until the very moment he walked through your front door. You could hardly recognize him in the Armani blazer and dress shoes, but it was him. He had the same sharp yet attentive brown eyes since he was a teenager. He was simply all grown up now, as have you. Chan had come to visit a few times in the time he’s been gone but you only ever saw him a brief passing, caught up in your own life. 
Once our eyes have landed on him, it’s as if time has stopped. The acting school must’ve done this because his image seemed to be crafted in utter perfection. He was slightly taller than you remember, chiseled than you remember, and the least of all, more handsome than you remembered. You emphasize that you never saw Lee Chan attractive, not once, but here you were, devouring every detail of him.
He saunters over with flowers in his arms–noticeably two bouquets, one full of daisies and another with sunflowers–and stands before you and your best friend with a smile on his face. He congratulates Chanmi, handing her the bouquet of sunflowers and a hug, and within earshot saying how he knew she could do it.
Then came you. The expression on his face is something you’ve never seen him make. It bordered the line of surprised, startled, perhaps aroused, and you don’t know what to make of it. You clenched your legs anxiously before you pushed yourself up from your seat, seeing how much taller he really gotten since. It was funny since you had gotten used to being the taller one in your youth but it seems some of that has changed, along with everything about him.
“Congratulations, Y/n.” He hands you your daisies, unable to tear his gaze from you, fingers brushing against yours as he places them in your hands and electricity flows through you both.
“No hug,” you ask, trying it. His grin gets wider, arms now coming around you, and you feel his larger than life biceps close in a tight embrace. The scent that entered your personal circle now engulfed your senses, blackberries and cream. He smelled sweet, comforting, and if you help it, down right edible. 
You sigh, hugging closer, closing your eyes to fully appreciate his warmth and he spoke to a lethally soft tenor, “You’re looking good, Dirt cake. Welcome to adulthood.”
He felt strong and safe, yet left you breathless when he smoothed his hand over your back. You wonder how there can be so much tension in a seemingly platonic gesture. He makes you feel like the only other person to exist, but it ends when he pulls away, and his ghost lingers over your form.
The attention is all on him when his parents see Chan arrive, proud to have gotten the family back together again. Your parents greet him the same, having once known him to be a placeholder of a son they would’ve loved to have. Everyone is joyous.
You couldn’t stop thinking about him, the rest of the party or the rest of the night that matter, thinking only what he’d like underneath those clothes. As children, you’ve had your fair share of beach days, pool parties, joint family vacations to rented lake houses, but that was a time when Lee Chan wouldn’t even be considered in your dating pool. You were both children, almost like family at some point, and thinking of him in any manner besides that was icky. So, so icky.
But you’d be lying if you didn’t watch him tear off that blazer and put it away in a closet. His muscles ripple through his expensive dress shirt, sleeves pulled up to cut off at the elbows, revealing blue veins so thick and pulsing you imagine how they’d feel against your tongue at the sight of them. You lie in bed at the thought of them, overwhelmed at the pool it causes between your legs and goes to reclaim your arousal. Your digits languidly follow the trail of their escape and bite on your other pillow to muffle your ache.
Your head throws back into the duvet as you plunge two eager digits in your sopping core. The perfect arch you make goes unnoticed in your lonesome. You pleasure yourself in solitude, when in your mind one other person takes your fingers’ place.
“Cum all over me, sweet angel. I can feel you close.”
He had never uttered those words in his life, at least not you, but can hear them almost as clear as day.
Your hips slew in a circular type motion. Your moans get more curt as you bite hard into the cotton felt. Legs tense up, lifting off the bed, and hushed whimpers are all you communicate as you’re overcome with your release, taking the time for your legs to settle down. Your pulse would take a longer time to process your journey. Chan was still on your mind after all. Along with all the guilt built up from the considered betrayal you’ve made to his sister, your best friend, you were wondering if you could ever face her, or Chan, again.
“Oh my god, when was the last time we were out together like this?”
Chanmi’s enthusiasm combated your desire to hide away forever from guilt. You pick apart your burger, making sure there were no pickles as you’ve requested, and humming content as your message was received. “3-4 years. If you include that lunch, Chan took off in 10 minutes.”
The culprit chuckled, depositing a fry in his mouth. “I'm in high demand. You should be proud to be sitting so close to me.”
Chanmi snickers, shoving a nugget in his face, “Here, shove this in your pie hole.”
He happily accepts the excuse to shut up and enjoys it like it’s the most delicious thing on earth. “Yummy.”
You all laugh at his lighthearted nature and talk as if no time has passed. It’s familiar, warm, but jarring, because seeing you all united together proved that time came with age, and apparently for Chan, a new appreciation for a fully equipped gym.
He’s the same personality-wise, but you can’t help but focus on the physical. Looking at him while talking felt like he had been body swapped with some foreign adonis. You don’t forget the more stylish hair cut he sports, tapering slightly short at his sides and longer up top. He was becoming everything he meant to be.
“How’s shooting,” you curiously ask, “I’m sure it’s really exciting to be working on a bigger project like this.”
Chan took off the middle of your childhood to enroll in a boarding performing arts school. He wanted to pursue acting professionally one day, and he believed the networking and immersion of the curriculum would allow him to hone that skill. He made a pretty penny doing TV commercials in his attendance there, but his senior year he finally got cast in a small film. His mini break.
He played a minor role but got all the perks of a lead, besides the fame. He pushed himself hard to get recognized in his field of work. Corpses on criminal mind-esque shows, taking on five-minute extra characters, becoming a regular on a cable show with a beloved modest fandom, and finally now he’s done it. He was going to be a lead on an online streaming series that would be broadcasted internationally. Although, he hadn’t gotten the male love interest he strived for. He had claimed the role of the second love interest instead, and everyone always loved the second lead more than the first, he rationalized.
“It’s so exciting. Everyone is so talented and cool. I almost can't believe it.” He expresses with an excited glint in his eyes.
“It’s a big deal,” You cover his hand with yours, squeezing it affectionately. “You deserved this.”
You exchange proud smiles at each other. You wish you could feel the warmth from his lips as he lets out a quiet “thank you” as he places his over hand on top of yours. This feels too tender to be real, and you wonder how you could ever have noticed those creased smile eyes in the past.
The moment is interrupted when a text tone goes off and Chanmi claims it. “Oh, gotta go. I have a date.”
Chan rolled his eyes as his giddy sister hops out of her chair, releasing himself from your hands, and they suddenly drop cold. “Can't believe you planned a date in one of the few days I’m in town.” 
Chanmi lands a quick peck on your cheeks and sticks her tongue at brother in defiance, scurrying away in a quick farewell and she’s gone behind those double doors of the restaurant. This leaves you three: you, Chan, and the impending arousal that slicks your walls for being alone with him any longer than a second.
“It’s crazy isn’t it,” Chan breaks your silence, “you guys graduating, me being in a lead. It’s so wild how far we’ve come.”
You nod, “It really is. Everything’s different now.”
“Well, besides school, what else has happened? Now’s the time to catch up.”
You hummed, “where do I start?”
Let’s see where you could start.
The moment you walk right through that front door, I cannot stop thinking about your hands on my body how you would press me up against a wall and fuck me senseless, stupid, or just straight up use me until I can’t even remember my own name. It’s been only a few days since I last saw you, but every day since then I thought about you. I touch myself to the thought you. I wondered how you would say my name. I wonder if you would say my name at all. I even wondered what you would want me to call you, if that was even necessary. For you, I would lay my body with only the purpose of fulfilling every one of your desires. I’d have myself milk you until the end of our days.
You kept that to yourself. You were ashamed those words even ran through your mind in the brief moment it did, and you held your breath. “Well, since college is over, I can focus on the internship I got into. It’s a lot less intense than I’m expecting, just waiting for that adrenaline to pick up when it does.”
“You’re so grown up. I can believe I missed that.” There’s so much tenderness and fondness in his eyes.
I could say the exact same about you.
“So, Chanmi’s dating. You seeing anyone lately?”
If I was, they’d be gone the second I saw you.
“No, not really,” you respond, averting your gaze to your drink, “college guys kind of suck if I’m being honest.”
Humor is evident as Chan stifles a laugh, wiping away the reminder of his sandwich away from his face. “That I’ve heard of. Good. You deserve more than a guy just trying to get his dick wet.”
You halt, pleasure churning in your stomach at his vulgar language, hunching over the diner table in anguish. The pool of arousal spreads further. “That’s one way to put it. And you? Anyone caught your eye?”
Please say no. For the love of god and Buddha, say no.
“No luck on my end, either.”
Fuck yes.
“Oh, well, that sucks.”
“I have had a lot of work on my hands, so I don’t really fall into the practice of dating. I guess I’m just taking things as they come”
You nod, completely aligned with him. You didn’t see the point in dating apps if its purpose was only to put you out there in the world. You did plenty of that on your own. 
“And sex?” What are you doing?
He snorts, his pearly whites on display. “What about sex?”
Stop before you’re in too deep. “Are you having any?” For Christ's sake.
He bites his lip, amused, taking the last sip from his sprite before setting it aside. “At the moment, no. Why? Are you offering?”
YES.
“No,” you scratch your head, blinking in feign innocence, “just gathering intel to sell to paparazzi before you become a superstar and leave us.”
He crumbles up a napkin, a scrunched up smile on his face, before launching it at you, “You jerk. And no, I’m not fucking anyone.”
God, the way he cusses feels like drugs in my veins.
“Are you asking because you are,” he asks, “are you having sex with someone?”
There’s a sense of childish curiosity in his voice, like peers gossiping about the latest tea, but beneath it is something else. He circles his drink from his hands, eyes locked in place, mouth dropped in a way that screams ‘I dare you to answer’ and how his jaw tenses up after immediately asking, sets a fire into your inner thighs.
You let out a suffocated breath, pinching the skin of your thigh to snap you back into reality before the heat in his gaze singed your mouth shut. “Nope.”
He hums, relief grazing his harsh brows. “Not hung up on anyone?”
“No. Need an ex to be hung up with someone,” you quickly answer, before the bitter taste of regret stings your tongue.
“Interesting.”
You narrow at him. “What's so interesting about it?”
You want me. Just say it so I can lunge across this table to get to you.
“I haven’t seen you in years and you’re beautiful, smart, single. It doesn’t sound right.” He answers with a shrug.
Call me beautiful one more time. I will suck your dick right now under this table. I don’t care about being caught.
“There’s not really a reason, it’s just how it is. And maybe I’m not looking. Considered that?”
The only person I’m looking at is right in front of me—God, I can smell your cologne from here. Fuck. I want to devour you.
“Maybe, but me personally, I’d sweep you up before any guy could get the chance.” He chuckles.
Then do it. Stop teasing me.
“Chanmi would probably kill me tho. Probably say it’d ruin our dynamic.”
Oh shit. Here you were, lost in a head fogged up with lust and you hadn’t considered your best friends seeing you get shacked up with her brother. You were betraying her every second you though about her brother in a lewd sense. Although, she made no indication she’d be bothered by such a thing, but who wouldn’t? You weren’t going to let yourself off on a technicality.
“Don’t think we have much to worry about, though. I think we’ll be just fine.”
His words were like an anchor dropped in your gut. You didn’t know what was worse. Messing around with your best friend’s brother or the possibility of him rejecting the idea before it even started. You lose feelings in your legs, exhaling through your nose, and cry a little on the inside. You force an agreeing smile on your face. “Yeah. Chanmi doesn’t have to worry about anything.”
The meal comes to a close and you tell Chan you should get going home and he insists on driving. You were insane if you were going to spend another second in his presence, knowing fully well how he made you feel. He’s basically rejected you. It was over. Quit trying.
“Let me know if the AC is too cold. I can turn it down.”
You were that insane. 
“All good.”
You sit in silence. The radio envelopes the air and you interlock your hands in discomfort, while Chan focuses on the road. It's not a long drive from your place, but it sure felt like it was. But it gave you all the time to reflect. You needed some of that. Maybe you could get your common sense back.
Of course, Lee Chan wasn’t going to fall for you. Not like this. Maybe if you and his sister weren't attached at the hip, it’s possible. But then again, he would be living a life of fame, the spotlight, other people way hotter and more suitable for him. Face facts.
“So, since you haven’t dated anyone, I’m assuming you’re a virgin.”
Oh. He was going to keep going.
“Um, not quite,” you chuckle nervously.
He raises a brow. “So, you lied to me.”
You shake your head, “Of course not. I’m not having sex right now with anyone or a single person consistently, if that’s what you were saying, but I’ve had sex.”
“Did you?”
Something in his tone makes you want to turn your head to his side. You don’t regret your decision seeing the whites of his knuckles as he grips the wheel. His voice may have sounded friendly, but he held himself taut, visibly restraining himself.
Oh, Chan.
“Yeah. I didn't consider them exes, just flings,” you thought to add.
“Flings.” He repeats. 
You grin to yourself. “Yeah. I think a few times in high school and then a few more in college.”
“My, my. Aren’t you all grown up now?” You can almost hear him gritting his teeth, and you relished in it.
“Well, this is me.” You point at the building Chan forces himself to park at. He tightens his jaw in view, tapping the leather of the wheel in contemplation. Possibly at the revelation you’ve revealed to him. You lean in where your face comes into view, smiling an innocent smile. “Want to come in, Chan?”
You can see the dilemma in his eyes. There's a war going on his brain and either way, he was losing. Inevitably, he helps you unbuckle his seat before deciding to do the same thing to him. He plays your game with a humorless smile. “Why not?”
When you’re finally alone in the comfort of your home, it took everything in you to not jump him right then and there. His eyes scan over your living area, taking in the kick knacks, the tchotchkes you bought over time. It was as if he was rediscovering you, all of you, and for some reason, that made you more nervous than anything else. But that meant he was curious about you. He wanted to know more past what he saw as a child. He wanted to see you.
He snorts, crossing his arms, eyes finally landing on you. “I like your apartment. Am I the only guy you brought here you haven’t fucked?”
That could change.
You shrug, gallantly walking further and further away from him. “I don’t usually bring people over here. If I’m hooking up, it’s usually at their place.”
You let him watch. His eyes trained on your walk, a resisted urge tempted in every step you take. “You know that’s incredibly dangerous, right?”
“Anymore dangerous than letting them know where I live?” you retort.
He saunters over to you, side grinning in challenge. “Why are you trusting towards me?”
“Because,” you mimic his arms, “We have nothing to worry about. You said so.”
He glares down at you, taking one step closer. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Whatever do you mean, friend?”
He cocks his head, “You’re really testing your luck aren’t you, Y/n?”
You shrug, an obvious grin on your face, “I’m not testing anything. Exactly what are you implying?”
“Don’t push me, Y/n. You don’t want to find out what happens.”
“That’s funny,” now you’re the one backing him in a corner, pushing him, showing him, knee his shins until his fingers grip back in the arm of a couch, saying words you only ever dared to think, “Maybe don’t be a coward and fuck me already.”
His breath noticeably hitches and drinks in your assertion and feeds you back tenfold, pushing himself off the couch and colliding your lips, and a shock of immense arousal takes over your body. Goosebumps pebble your skin and involuntarily you moan in the lip lock, taking you longer than necessary to realize that Chan has backed you against a wall.
Your hand crawls into his hair, pushing him down to deepen your kiss as his hard member prods at your stomach. Hands run down to catch him, his clothed cock in your hands, feel how the zipper of his pants constricts him from taking up any more space, and you help spring him free.
“All this fat cock all for me? Chan, you shouldn’t have,” you playfully comment.
“It's what you wanted, isn't it?” He thrusts up against you, hiking up your leg to dig into your already pulsing core. “You want me to want you. To fuck you? Is that it?”
“Yes.” You answer definitely. “I want you to want me so bad it hurts. Just as badly as I want you.”
“It’s not some addiction you have? Move on from one fuck thing to the next?” He questions, venom on his tongue. He speaks with doubt, but his body defies him, drawn to you like opposing ends of a magnet, in need of you as much as you were in need of him.
“I don’t say things I don't 100 percent mean, Chan. If I wanted to just fuck you, I’d do it already.” You squeeze around him slightly tighter, wrapping your fingers around strands of his hair harder, hearing that stuttering grunt of his to reveal itself. “There's fucking, and then there’s you, Chan. I  don’t just want to fuck you. I want to worship you.”
You catch a glimpse of his reaction to your startling response before lightly shove him off of you to get on your knees, scraping them against the textured wood. Lowering yourself gave a good view of the shift in his eyes, watching how they go from pure animosity to earth shattering enthrallment. Your hands come up to his hips, fingering from the waistband of his briefs and pulling it down with his pants, just to push it aside. His cock is big, hard, veiny, perfect to push down your throat. 
You wrap your fingers around his girth, fingers trailing over his veins, counting the estimated inches. Disappointment didn’t even cross your mind.
“You have such a pretty, pretty cock,” you gasp, “have you thought about it? My lips wrapped around your cock. I know I have.”
Chan’s bottom lip gets trapped between his teeth. His eyes dilate as your lips purse over the curve of his tip, kissing the slit. His mind then settles on your previous words, wondering what they entail. “Worship? With that kind of offer, I’d hate to refuse. What about you?”
“What about me?” His shaft hugs the curve of your cheek.
“If you’ll worship me, what’ll happen to you?”
Your smile stretches across your face before kissing his length between speeches. “Well, if you let me. I’ll be all yours. Your tits”—kiss—“ass,”—kiss—“your pussy,”—“your mouth. I’ll be all yours.”
Chan can’t help but smile with you. His hand finds a way to thread through your hair, getting a good angle tug, and ripping a flirtatious giggle from your lips. “I get all that? Deal of the century.”
You hum in agreement before you feel him hug the inside of your mouth, fluttering your eyes at his size. Your tongue runs along his skin, taking it calmly, slowly. You make sure you’re breathing from your nose, savoring every second. 
Chan breathes out controlled breaths, boring his lust driven gaze into your presence. His cock is more than pleased in your hot, wet mouth coating him in drool Your sweet, swollen lips were like the cherry on top of sundae. They were gloriously full and glossy getting him off. “Your lips are perfect around me. And this mouth is mine, you say?”
You nod as you bob down, not expecting him to thrust inside you, flinching against the wall. He puts either hand on either side of your head, holding you in place. Your eyes shut tight, feeling him twitching in your throat before pulling out. A ribbon of translucency stretches from your lips to his head.
“My pretty, little mouth.”
There is a darkness in which he stares at you, like releasing of pandora’s box. He was lost in power, greed, filth. Whatever it was, you were ready for more and you didn’t mind what it took. He pets your hair, dragging his fingers from root to tips, saying his scary final words before he fills your cheeks more with his cock. “Cherish that last breath. You’ll need it.”
Your head stays pinned to the wall, cock plunged in your mouth, the view of Chan’s unfailing erection and groin the only sight you’re able to take in this moment of suffocation. He wasn’t slow with it and he didn’t plan to be. Groaning, his hips push in your mouth, the back of your head hitting the wall behind you with every thrust, and the length flossing the pipe of your throat. You become a makeshift version of a glory hole. Your hands steady themselves on his hips until they are forced to pin above your head.
You wretch at his sheer force, but take every inch. Your tears burn your cheeks, feeling the tremble of your limbs. You cough, gag, swallowing him as you’re pushed past your normal limits and finally meet the base of his cock. He rams in you, lips to lap, mouth stretched and sore. Full didn’t even begin to describe how it felt for him to fuck your mouth like this. 
He shows mercy when he feels close, thrusting in all the way and holds in your mouth for an exact five seconds until he lets you go. Your saliva and his pre-cum dribble all over your chin and neck, but a dazed smile on your face despite the mess. A hand to your neck, he pulls you up from the ground, pressing you full bodily back in the wall. 
“Well, aren’t you a pretty fucking whore.” he hisses.
His hand invades the depths of your pants. Your sopping folds are easy to find as they coat his fingers like syrup, sweet and thick. “Pussy’s mine, hmm? Ass too?”
“Yes. yes, take all of me.” You impulsively part your legs, the gateway of your throat closing up as his grip gets tights. All the stars you were seeing shined brighter than the stars in the damn sky.
Chan tugs off your bottoms, throws it aside like garbage and lifts you on top of a kitchen counter. The cool marble stings your ass cheeks but you hardly notice as Chan nose deep in your pussy. His fingers dig deeper, tongue flicking starved at your entrance. “Sweet Jesus, you’re fucking wet. Fucking dripping down my arm.”
“I wasn’t lying to you, Chan.” Your leg hangs off his shoulder, feeling light as his tongue makes himself home in your warmth. “I want you, every part of you.”
They were more than enough words of encouragement as he’s lost in your thighs. The curve of his lips suck on your clit, eliciting a moan and would forever be ingrained to every wrinkle of his brain. His fingers–now down to his knuckles–traveling you at an unforgivable pace. He makes it known that he’d give you what you want, anything and everything in between, but he wouldn’t give you his patience.
His hand comes down at you hard on the center of your core, rubbing between every strike as he licks deep stripes, causing your whines of ache to grow louder. “More, Chan please. Touch my pussy more, like that.”
Your pain receptors could usually take so much pain, but with Chan, you’d sacrifice your nerves just to have him cum covering every inch of your body. 
Swiftly, he reveals his upper body. Taut, firm muscles, packed in every region. Gleaming with sweat, his honey glazed abs flexes from the tension in his stomach. God, it was better than you ever imagined.
You watch as his strong arms pull you closer in his mouth. He latches on you like a leech, draw circles, finger fucking you until you’re drawing out his name in short bursts. Your jaw drops slack, clenching around his tongue, and pressing himself against you until you’re close. Oh, so close.
He pulls off at the worst moment and before you could protest, you taste your arousal on his tongue, feeling him pull off your blouse in the process. Tits in either of his hands, he roughly squeezes them, pinching tight at your stiff peaks enough for you to let out high pitched screeches. “Chan hurts!”
“Good.” He takes one in his mouth, nibbling one in his teeth before pinching the other one just as hard as before. You’re stuck between pain and pleasure, but as liquid escapes past your legs and the victor is clear.
“My tits…taste so sweet…like honey.” he mumbles.
You feel loved, worshiped, wet. You were wrapped around his finger, and if you get to be soe lucky, he’d feel that same way about you. After he’s done swelling your skin, he’s escorting you to what clearly is your room despite the first time of him being there and he dumps you on the bed.
“Ass in front, right now.”
Promptly, you do as he says, getting on all fours on the bed, lifting your ass welcome for him to take.
“Spread wider. I want to see that pretty pussy.”
Your legs naturally part further, the pigment of your sensitive flesh clear on display. Chan takes initiative. Putting himself between your divide, his tongue finding that familiar sweetness he parted with only a few minutes ago. “You taste so fucking good. I forgot all about saying that while in there earlier. You seem to do that to me.”
His hands come over the flesh of your ass, the sting of his hand is momentary before his tongue’s presence takes over, tasting you, inhaling you delicious scent, “Condom?” He manages to breathe out.
You shake your head, perspiration trailing your forehead. “But I’m clean, and on the pill. Like I said, you can do anything with me.”
Chan is blown over with a sense of relief, fishing his erection before lining up at your slit. He takes full strokes inside you, achingly slow, and you quiver at the fullness but whine when you’re immediately empty. He does that repeatedly, giving you the sensation before he rips it from you in mere seconds.
Yo pound your frustrated fists in the mattress. “Chan give me your cock… I want you please..”
“Really, Is it me you want?” He teases, “Or it is my cock fucking so deep in your pussy you feel it in your mouth?”
Vivid images in your head, you shudder at the depth of his now husky voice, “I want that from you. Only you. Please, I want you to cum in me…”
“Shit.” Hearing that made close already. “F-fine. Just shut the fuck up.”
He thrust in you, finding a pace to reside in. His mouth makes an o-shape at the clench of your wall. “Fuck wet pussy,”—slap—“wet, tight. All for me.”
Chan recalling your moans laced with ecstasy. Hearing you, watching the recoil of your ass hitting his lap, it was something he could get used to, but he could try. He forces his knees on the bed, pushing deeper inside you. He finds your hair before pulling, pushing you into to the mattress and muffling your moans until they melt into an oblivion.
“That reminds me,” he thinks to bring up, not minding the fact you were drowning in the duvet, “what is it you like being called?”
You muffle a response but if you were being honest, you could hardly think with his weight pushed back into you.
“Come on. What is it? Pick your poison.” He slows his pace, a hard, deep stroke taken with every term of endearment, “Baby? Sweetheart? Angel?”
You moan, but not enough.
He blinks, thinking it’s going somewhere when a light bulb goes up in his head. “Mmh, let's try this then. Clench harder, slut.”
You moan even louder, immediately following his command. He then pounds harder in you, lacking any clear remorse as his language becomes grunts, calling you ‘slut’, ‘whore,’ ‘fuckhole,’ every name in the book until you buck at his hips.
Shake as hard as an earthquake, saying his name, speaking your orgasm into existence. It’s all you feel as your vision becomes further away from the comprehensive. You become a lifeless body that takes every second as if you never would again, collapsing on the bed. 
Chan, a man with solutions, flips you on your back. A leg of yours comes up on his chest, ankle over his shoulder and he bottoms out inside you, another tidal wave that jumpstart your adrenaline. “I’m not fucking done with you yet. You said you’d be mine and you will be for as long as I want.”
Your leg takes his side as he folds into you, lips messily meeting yours, tongue tasting the inside of your mouth, he takes you even deeper and your way to feel can't be described as anything else but bliss. You caress his face, while his hand reconnected with your neck. You’re trailing down to feel down his torso, the pads of his fingers pushing against the column of your neck tighter. Life leaving your body, you count each ab, cup each peck, palm over each stiff peak, and trace over each muscle. If you could leave earth by this method, you would. Your voice is raspy, but takes no break from praising him. 
“You’re fucking my pussy so good, feel so fucking good in my hands. Don’t. Fucking. Stop.”
“You like that,” kissing you in a curt repetitive action, sweeter than intended, “can you take…my…cum?”
“Yes,” you frantically nod, “cum in me. I want all your cum in me. Breed me please. I want you, only you, to fuck me, empty out in me, and repeat.”
His load is as warm as a home cooked meal, shooting in you, jerking into your body in a well-practiced motion. His body embraces you, closing in on you, while he tucks you in tight. You only remember the smile on his face when he cums. It looks like love in his eyes, warmth, and you are positive that that’s what it is because you're looking at him the same way. It feels like a perfect happy ending.
But nothing is over until Chan says it is over.
That day turned into night before you know it and all you’ve done is be in each other arms and fucking your shared cum back into places they belong. Despite the performance, Chan ended up being a gentleman, asking you where your spare clean towels were and helping you clean up the mess you’ve made. All the time and energy drained you both and with the lack of motivation to cook, you both called food to be delivered.
In an attempt to be presentable, you take the shirt he once wore and display it on yourself, his scent enveloping you like it were his embrace. That meant Chan had to walk around topless, and by George, that was quite the sight. You join him on the couch. His arm slings over your side, tenderly kissing your face as you feel up his body. You couldn’t help but grin like a love stricken puppy, memorizing every dent of every chiseled muscle, appreciating its entirety. “You’re so fucking sexy.”
Chan hums, before muffling a thanks and taking your kiss-swollen lips in his. “I think you’re sexy.”
You giggle, reciprocating, already finding yourself straddling his lap, and that erection that’s already gone and inflated himself. This man had it all didn’t he?
Then it dawned on you. Maybe too late, but it did.
You part from him, eyes furrowed in worry.
Concern is written all over his face, and he curls your hair behind his ear, “what’s wrong?”
“What are we going to do about Chanmi?”
His expression soon matches yours as he sighs. His hand comes behind your head, kissing foreheads, and curls up in a reassuring smile. “I’m sure she’ll be happy for us.”
“And If she isn’t?”
His hands tighten on the fabric of the shirt. “She’ll just have to.”
“She’s my best friend.”
“And she’s my sister. And I’m her only brother. We are two people she cares about and we’re happy together. Why wouldn’t she be happy?”
Your lips curl up in a small smile. “We’re together?”
His smile reaches his eyes. “I don’t think I’d spend all day like this with you if we weren’t.”
You kiss him, chaste and slow, and letting go before the heat travels back to your head, fogging your rationale. “I like you a lot, Chan.”
“I like you a lot, Y/n.”
“What about your career?”
He rolls his eyes, filling rubbing circles in your hips. “Why? Scared this superstar will run away from you for his chance in the spotlight?”
You grin mischievously, “No, aren’t you worried I’ll outshine you on the red carpet? I’ll be your date for every one of them now.” 
“Then they’ll have no choice but to put me in everything under the sun.” He grins back.
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greynatomy · 8 months
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regret
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leah williamson x reader
actually finished writing something! wooo! the poll i put out was a close one, but this pair ultimately won. thanks to all who voted.
i’ve decided to split this into two parts, so this isn’t the end peoples!
part 2
———
“Alright. Remember, when we get there—”
“—pretend that we’re still happily married. I know.” You say annoyed, getting out of the car.
“Hey, don’t be like that!” Leah gets out of the car, catching up to you.
“Be like what? I’m not the one who got us in this situation.”
“Can we just be civil? This is the last time we’ll go through this.”
“Piss off will you! We wouldn’t have to act civil if you kept your mouth to yourself. And you had the audacity to file for divorce.”
Before Leah could reply, the front door opens to reveal Amanda, Leah’s Mom.
“Oh, I’ve missed you girls so much!”
Putting up a smile on your face, you engulfed the woman in a hug.
“Missed you too Amanda.”
“Come in! Come in!”
“Oi! David how’ve you been pops?”
“Oh, I’ve been wonderful! Glad to have you here!” He pulls you into a hug.
“There’s my favorite sister!” You hear behind you, Jacob just coming down the stairs from his room.
“Come here you! It’s been a while, huh?”
“It has! You gotta visit me more often.” You tense a bit, but not enough for him to notice in your embrace, putting up a smile on your face.
“I’ll try to visit more.”
What you don’t see behind you is Leah watching your interactions with her family.
You’ve known each other young. You’ve both been dating since you were fifteen, marrying at nineteen, divorced at twenty-one.
Her family’s have welcomed you with open arms since the beginning. You were her first serious relationship. The only one of her girlfriends that her family loved. You’ve had your whole life basically planned out, Leah would become a footballer, you a doctor, marriage, kids, the dream basically.
Leah didn’t know the exact reason why she did what she did, but it happened and she couldn’t take it back. She knew this teammate of hers has liked her for a while and never told her off.
She woke up to an unfamiliar bed, an arm around her that certainly wasn’t you. She regretted it the moment she woke up, didn’t know how to tell you, but you found out before she could. Ashamed of herself, Leah filed for divorce.
———
Leah didn’t know what she was thinking divorcing you. She didn’t have the right to be the one to file as she was the one who fucked up. It was impulsive and shameful. It was the best option she could think of at the time.
Now here she was, five years later, at the Emirates training grounds, about to run for the first time since her ACL injury. She missed you so much during this time. Every time she was injured in any way, you were always by her side nursing her back to health. You were her support system, making her fall more in love with you. This time, without you by her side, she realized how much she took you for granted, how she didn’t show you enough love, betraying you in the worst way possible.
She’d already signed the divorce papers, pressuring you to do the same all while making you go to her family’s for a dinner pretending that nothing has changed between the two of you. It was when she finally saw your signature on the papers was when she realized how she’s lost you for good.
———
Getting back home after a family walk, Amanda spots a stack of papers on the kitchen counter, a folded paper on top, along with two rings. Curious, she opens it up and quickly skims through them, shock fills her body after she finished reading.
“Leah!” She yells for her daughter.
“Yeah, mum?” Leah walks into the kitchen to see her mom holding something up.
“What the hell is this?”
Leah being clueless, grabs the sheet, reading it herself.
Leah,
I’ve finally signed everything you’ve been wanting me to sign. I don’t know why I’ve put it off for so long even if I’m not the one at fault. Guess it’s just hard to let go of the one you love the most.
Don’t contact me. Don’t look for me. You’re free.
Yn
Leah couldn’t even respond to her mother. All the emotions she bottled up came at her all at once, breaking down in front of her family. Six years of relationship, one year of marriage over.
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exhaslo · 7 months
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Ghostface!Miguel x Reader PT.1
A little drabble until the poll is done~
Warning: Minors DNI, murder, drugs
It had been a long day and you were ready for some R & R. At least, you wanted to. It was Halloween and you would have loved nothing more than to go home, shower, and watch Halloween specials while munching on some candy and popcorn. That would have been your dream night after a long day of work, but those plans had derailed. One of your dear friends had invited you to a Halloween party. And what's better?
Apparently, your long time crush, Miguel O'Hara, was going to be there.
Now, Miguel was your friend. Had been for years since college. He was as fine as fine could be. You went from good friends to touching yourself to wet dreams of him every night. You had wanted to confess to the man, but he had girls all around him. Miguel was smart and stern. It was like he never took a day off to relax. You wanted to be his stress reliever.
"I can't imagine him at a party. Let alone a Halloween one," You mutter under your breathe as you put your costume on, "I hope this isn't too slutty."
You arrived at the location of the party, growing more worried by the second. This place seemed like those frat parties back in college. Miguel avoided those like the plague. You hesitantly grabbed your phone and noticed an unknown number calling you,
"Um, hello?"
"Hello, (Y/N)" The voice on the other line whispers. You tense slightly,
"Sorry, do I know you?"
"You tell me."
"Look, it's really loud and I'm super nervous right now. I can't even remember if I locked my own door, so I can't say who this is." You admitted, still hesitating on entering the party.
"Why are you so nervous?"
You gulped, "I was told the guy I like would be at a party and, well, it isn't somewhere he would be at...normally. That, and I feel so self cautious with my costume," You admitted.
What harm was there to let your heart out? It did make you feel better.
"Then call him and find out." The voice said in a demanding tone. You sighed softly,
"I was going too, but then you called. Anyway, you are you?"
"Someone willing to spare you."
The call dropped. You stared at the number in confusion, trying to think of who would call you like that. As you finally entered the building, you suddenly recalled the recent murders on the news. The only connection that was made was a random phone call from an unknown number. You heart rate spiked as you immediately called Miguel.
"(Y/N)?" Miguel answered. You bit down on your nail,
"H-Heeeey, so, super random. I was told that you were coming to this party uptown and well....I'm like freaking out because I got this strange call and you know how my brain leads from one thing to another and-"
"(Y/N), I need you to breathe. I'll be there soon."
-----------
You felt relieved when Miguel told you that he was coming. That was about twenty minutes ago. Time was going by slowly and your anxiety was rising. You were on your phone, googling everything about the Ghostface murders. He wouldn't attack you in a public place like this. Right? You were so focused on the news articles that you failed to notice some guys spike your drink.
You tried to calm down by drinking the thoughts away. You had a few shots, plus your tainted drink. Another ten minutes had passed and you were starting to feel woozy. You couldn't focus and decided to head to the bathroom in case you needed to throw up. As you stumbled, your phone rang again with the unknown number.
"Miguel?" You slurred, leaning against the wall.
"..." The voice was quiet at first, "You sound different from earlier."
"I don't feel too good. Migueeeeel," You groaned lowly. The voice grunted on their end,
"Don't hang up on me."
"Hey there, miss. Why don't we take you home?"
Your vision was blurred, but you could see two figures hovering over you. You tried to push them away, gripping onto your phone for dear life. The two men took it upon themselves to take you outside through the back alley door. The phone was taken out of your hands and tossed towards the concrete ground. You tried to complain, but they had covered your mouth.
"Don't think we can wait for the car-"
Before they could even finish their sentence, Ghostface appeared and started to stab them repeatedly. You slumped to the floor, unable to register what was happening. All you saw was red. You tried to come to your senses, barely registering that Ghostface was killing the two men before you. He didn't match the reports. Ghostface was supposed to be a calm and silent killer, not a stabbing maniac.
"(Y/N)! Are you alright?"
All you could do was whimper as you faded to black.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
PT.2 Will be in a bit!
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unforth · 6 months
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I had a day off yesterday.
And I can already practically hear the assumptions that such a statement is prompting the reader to make. Those assumptions are wrong. I don't mean I didn't work. I did, for about 8 hours. That's not at all what I mean.
I mean my wife took the kids out at 9:30, spent the night with her mom, isn't back yet the next morning.
There are things I NEED people on this website to understand about parenting. And I've talked about it before, and I'll talk about it again, because honestly the way that Tumblr as a cohort talks about parents makes me sick. Multiple polls have shown that only about 2% of people on here are parents. We're a huge minority, and we're constantly talked over, ignored, or accused of being bad parents (like, personally, I have had people reply to my comments or come on to my posts and tell me I shouldn't have my kids). In my case, being a parent means I'm almost 41, I'm married to @ramblingandpie, and our children are inching up on being 8 and 6 years old.
My entire day, and therefore my entire life, revolves around them. I'm up most mornings at 5 AM, because that's the earliest they're "allowed" to wake up, and so my brain just defaults to being awake around then - better to wake up before them, at least then I get a few minutes in the morning. Between 5 and 7, I sit with them, do my social media, work on side blogs, study Chinese. Then it's helping them get ready for school, then my wife or I or both get them on the bus, and then I work until the last possible minute, which is either when I need to go pick them up for an after school activity or when I need to go down and meet them off the bus. My afternoons are after school activities, chores such as washing the dishes and cleaning up toys, talking with them, working with them, playing with them. Their bedtime starts at 7:40, and my son gets scared if I leave before he falls asleep so I sit with him until about 8:15. As soon as he's asleep, I go fall on my face, sleep as best I can, then wake up and do it again. Overnight, it's hard to sleep deeply, because about once a week someone will wake up in the middle of the night and need help. That could be as minimal as a hug or as complex as having to completely change the bedding on a bunk bed at 2 AM while also comforting a child who is afraid they'll be in trouble, or afraid they're sick, or afraid of their nightmare, or, or, or. Further, if a child is awake, there is always noise. I usually study Chinese with two or more competing sources of noise. I read the same way. My life is loud, and active, and consists of constant interruptions.
I adore my family, and I love my children, but this is terrible for me.
I do all of this as an neurodivergent introvert. My clinical depression is at least medicated, mostly because post-partum depression after I gave birth the first time nearly drove me to suicidal in under a week (we were expecting this and were prepared, fortunately, getting help was as simple as a phone call). The constant noise and interruptions and forced socialibility are about the worst combination of home-life I could be subjected to. I spend far too many early mornings just breathing deeply and gearing myself up to be subjected to the wall of Loud, Boisterous, Needing-My-Attention that is every minute when anyone else in the house is awake.
So what did my day off look like?
I helped get the kids ready to go and did some morning chores. I'd been up at 4:30 AM so I also had already social media'd and studied. Then, while my wife finished the preparations, I started work, and I worked from about 8 am to about 4 pm, straight. I didn't get hungry so didn't bother stopping for lunch. No one interrupted me, no one asked me to look at anything they'd built, no one broke my concentration, no sounds could be heard except those I'd chosen myself.
I'd been out the day before at a local shopping street and listened closely to the things the kids said they wanted, so at 4 I grabbed a couple orders I needed to ship for work and drove to our local downtown, dropped the orders in a post box, then went back to the shops and did some Christmas shopping in the 45 minutes or so before everything closed. I think I'm basically done with what we'll get them - other bigger things will be left to grand parents - so that's a load off, I literally had a stress dream earlier this week about it being 12/24 and having forgotten to do the shopping and having to go to (oh horrors) the mall on the day before Christmas. (Reminder: I'm a Jewish atheist. It's just virtually impossible not to Holiday in the Culturally Christian Hellscape that is the US. Also, my wife is Christian. So.) Found something cute for my wife, too, even tho I already know the main thing I'm getting her. Then, I realized - one of my favorite restaurants is on that block. So. I went there. I sat by myself at a table, only the indistinct restaurant hubbub around me. I read four or five chapters of my book, and ate a savory crepe, and drank lovely fruit tea, and got a scone to-go that I'll eat for lunch today. It was more than I probably should have spent on myself - about $25, including tip - but fuck it. I only get maybe a handful of days off all year, and I'm allowed to indulge a little.
Then I came home. There were no lights on. There was no noise. I had considered doing some more merch work while watching TV on the actual television (my kids are too young for subtitled shows, so usually if I want to watch My Shows I either have to do it on my computer when they're not around, or put them on and read all the subtitles aloud while trying to keep up and process the actual meaning of what I'm reading). But when I got back, the quiet and dark was so goddamn NICE that instead I curled up on the couch and read more of my book. I did that until bedtime - still about 8:15, because I'm exhausted. Then...I went to bed. And I slept long and deep, knowing that there was no chance I'd be interrupted and woken up, I didn't have to be, even in sleep, alert to every noise and possibility that I'd be needed.
I'm still exhausted and burned out, but even one night to myself felt really, really nice.
Saying "Tumblr does X" as a universal statement is doomed to failure, but generally speaking, the parenting posts I see on Tumblr, the ones with tens or hundreds of thousands of notes, speak what's apparently widely seen as a truism on here: that unless someone wants to spend 24/7 with their kids, to be 100% emotionally available at all times, is always kind and patient and perfect, they are a bad parent, maybe even abusive. I remember when covid started, there were multiple posts actively mocking the "oh god, my kids are now home all the time, how am I supposed to do this?" attitude that a lot of parents posted in despair. WhY dId YoU hAvE kIdS iF yOu DoN't WaNt To SpEnD tImE wItH tHeM?
Look at what my usual day looks like.
Look at what my day off looked like.
Do you really think I don't want to spend time with my kids? Do you really think I don't love my kids?
But I'm not a fucking MACHINE. I'm a PERSON. That's what people on Tumblr seem to forget. PARENTS ARE PEOPLE. The same tumblrinas who post ~uwu be kind to yourself rest if you need to, you should forgive yourself for that mistake you made~ will turn around, with zero sense of irony, and post "you're a bad parent if you ever raise your voice around a child."
Expecting parents to be perfect means expecting parents to be inhuman. It also means that a parent can't be poor (can't spend all your time being the perfect parent if you have to work multiple jobs or weird hours!), can't be introverted (can't be a perfect parent if you're not completely emotional available, god forbid socializing is exhausting for you), can't be on the ADHD or autism spectrum (what do you mean you forgot to get your kid to a doctor's appointment once? what do you mean over-stimulation can make you angry? how dare you get angry at a kid!), can't be depressed (gotta get out of bed every single day, gotta always be upbeat, patient, happy, or else that's Evil), can't be (like my wife) physically disabled (what do you mean your hands hurt too much to hold a child's hand? are you denying them touch?? CRUEL). And when the only answer you can offer to that is, "if you can't be that perfect you shouldn't be a parent," then you're saying people who aren't middle class to wealthy, people who aren't neurotypical, people who aren't physically able, shouldn't have children.
And honestly...what the fuck is your problem?
I'm not perfect. I tell my kids to just leave me alone sometimes. I raise my voice, especially when one of my kids starts punching the other, but also sometimes just cause I'm exhausted and Can't Anymore. I've forgotten an appointment by accident and felt like a total fucking idiot, and I've skipped an after school activity because I just wasn't up for taking them. I've served them more unbalanced, unhealthy meals than I can count. I've made many, many mistakes, but I've also done my best, and I love my kids, and I hope that when they grow up, they'll still love me even as they recognize that I wasn't perfect, just as I've come to accept my own parents' short-comings while still loving them very much. They're people, too, and the older I get, the more I understand where they were coming from.
When I fuck up, I apologize.
When they tell me they're unhappy with something I've done, I apologize, and I try to do better. Sometimes I even succeed.
This shit is hard, yo. And it's getting harder every year.
I'm BEGGING Tumblr: you need to start seeing parents as people. The way y'all talk about parenting on here is toxic, and genuinely harmful, and frankly exhausting. You have no idea what the reality of raising kids is like, and you need to shut the entire fuck up.
I had a day off yesterday.
I might get one more before the end of 2023.
I already can't wait. I am so, so, so tired. sigh
(if you actually read this whole rant and even a single word of it resonated for you, please reblog it. I'm tired of never seeing positive posts about parenting while I see negative ones with a bajillion notes.)
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81folklore · 8 months
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new years day - HS
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pairings: harry styles x gn!reader (fc: none)
summary: harrys partner reminisces on instagram over the past 2 years of love on tour before the final show
authors note: i was listening to my sleepy taylor playlist and this song started playing and it took me back to all the love on tour edits so i had to create a smau for it.. i promise im working on the drafts i put on that poll!!
authors note 2: i used they/them pronouns when writing because nothing ever really specified readers gender so please imagine as you will!!
masterlist
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yourusername has added to their story
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*text on first photo reads: a couple of my favorite love on tour fits over the years💙*
seen by harrystyles, gemmastyles and 637,572 others
yourusername
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liked by harrystyles, harry_lambert and 826,891 others
its going to be impossible to not miss this☹️
view comments
harrystyles: ❤️❤️
user7: oh i love them so much
user18: the support you show for harry is so lovely :’)
user73: im going to miss guessing what the styles will be wearing every night☹️
harry_lambert: so many outfits! so many fun nights!
yourusername: ahh ill miss seeing what youve put together for h
annetwist: ill miss seeing you so often darling!!
yourusername: you wont be able to get rid of us, promise🤍
yourusername added to their story
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*text on first photo reads: and with that my final love on tour outfit is done💗* *text on second photo reads: bring on the finale🥹*
seen by harrystyles, annetwist and 752,174 others
yourusername
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liked by harrystyles, lloyddddddddddddddddd and 1,118,592 others
tagged: harrystyles
theres glitter on the floor after the party, girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby…
i have never been as sad as i am right now writing that love on tour is officially over! this has honestly been one of the craziest experiences for everyone; myself, the fans and for you harry. being able to watch you grow as an artist and an individual on and off stage for the past two years has been an honor and i cannot thank you enough for bringing me on this incredible journey with you
the love i feel for you is one i struggle to describe, its a feeling of joy when i see you on stage, its a feeling of hurt when i see you at your lows, its a feeling of pure happiness when i see you being who you are. loving you is something so genuinely special and i cannot believe i am the one who gets to witness all of you, all of your life
love on tour is truly something that is one of a kind and the family you were able to create with it will be something that lasts forever along with the memories created these past years
i dont think i will ever get over being the one to see you achieve everything you have ever wanted, getting to be the one you come to after a show and just hug until your hearts content, getting to be the person you cry on after a show like slane or wembley where you just felt so overwhelmed by the love and support you received
i will thank you everyday for choosing me to be that person, to be the person you love, to be the person you have join you in this life youve created for yourself
thank you love on tour and thank you harry
i will love you both forever and ever❤️‍🩹
view comments
capitalofficial: im not crying you are🥲
harryflorals: we love you both💐
gemmastyles: 😭😭😭🤍🤍
harrystyles: 💗💗
user6: i need harry to learn how to use instagram properly i NEED to see his response😭
user89: sobbing and screaming
user35: they love him so much😭😭
harrystyles: baby the love i have for you is endless, thank you for coming with me on this journey and thank you for letting me love you. i love you so so much
user35: and HE LOVES THEM SO MUCH😭😭
user62: i feel sick they love eachother so much❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹
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yourusername added to their story
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seen by user56, user77 and 916,473 others
*first story has the song ‘new years day’ by taylor swift attached* *second story text reads: 🏠*
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rakurairagnarok · 10 months
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Heres the poll result!!! Please enjoy!! My commissions are still open!
Summer Bod
Derek sighed. It was a hot summer day, and he was sweating bullets. His classmates had invited him to the beach. Not that he was particularly close to any of them, but he couldn't pass up on a trip to the beach. He didn't feel like being left out like the rest of the year. They had told him to leave his swimsuit at home; Greg's father allegedly had extra pairs from his store, and he had to lose them so Greg had told him he would give them to his classmates. Once Derek arrived though he figured it was set up. The only pair they had extra was a large pink pair, which was way to big. Derek turned red.
"These were the only ones left Derek, we're soooo sorry." One of the guys snickered.
"They do suit you though, such a girly color...oh right you're a guy." One of the girls grinned at her own remark.
Derek took a deep breath and grabbed the shorts. He was not gonna let them bully him out of this day. He was gonna man up and show them. He walked to the changing rooms, tossing the shorts on the side, and started to undress.
He pulled the shorts over his skinny legs and looked at himself in the mirror. His scrawny body had caused him to be bullied and picked on for most of his highschool life. Derek pushed his big glasses up his nose and sighed. "I wish I wasn't so powerless."
As soon as those words left his mouth, the shorts started to heat up, and Derek froze. Not voluntarily, his body litterally wouldn't move an inch.
"What the hell?" Derek frowned as he tried his hardest to get his body to listen to his commands, to no avail. A sudden cramping in his legs caused him to stop trying, as he cried out in pain. He looked down and saw his calves contracting, as if he had been working his legs constantly. Curiously, as they relaxed, his calves seemed to have grown slightly. Before Derek could look more closely however, they cramped up again. This time, his quads flared up as well. This continued, untill his whole body seemed to be on fire. Derek looked, through the tears in his eyes, at the mirror and saw his whole body pulsate. After about a minute he actually saw proof of his muscles growing.
His abdominal muscles, which he had never trained, started to push out, leaving a decent sixpack behind. The cramps started to focus more on his legs again, as his quads started to thicken tremendously. The shorts that were almost hanging from his fragile frame were quickly straining to contain his thickening legs. His calves and feet also grew, and an extra harsh cramp on his right leg caused an intricate tattoo to form all over his calve.
Panting from the pain, Derek didn't notice his legs were finally unfrozen. They still had a mind of their own, flexing the large muscles, and even jiggling the bubble butt he had gained.
The cramps moved up to his torso, his flat chest quickly pushing out into thick strong pectorals. His back widened, while his waist shrunk slightly, giving him an improved widened posture. Another rough cramp just above his groin introduced his body to another new tattoo, spelling 'Willpower' in an elegant font. His side screamed in pain as another intricate tattoo was scratched into his skin.
Just like his legs, his whole torso began to flex; his pecs were bouncing and his tight abs were striking every pose imaginable. His obliques were spreading, almost like wings.
His arms were next in line. It began in his shoulders, which were quickly rounding into large muscular orbs. His posture widened even more, making Derek almost twice as wide as he once was. His bisceps and triceps were blowing up. His former twigs were now almost the size of his head, and his fore arms were not far behind. His hands tightened, years of rough work scraping off layers of soft smooth skin, leaving behind tough and calloused hands.
More seething pain called in more new tattoos, one on his right and a more colourfull on his left.
His arms began to frantically pose in every stereotypical arm pose, flexing his huge bisceps.
The cramps finally moved to his face, completely rearranging his facial structure. His previously boyish face hardened out, giving Derek a hard and strong jaw. His acne dissappeared and in its place grew a thick manly beard.
His nerdy glasses started to morph into an expensive pair of sunglasses, while his equally nerdy haircut got millimetered to a fresh buzzcut. His vision got darker as a baseball cap firmly planted itself on his head.
As the cap tightened, his head began to feel blissfully empty. All his fear, pain and embarrassment drained, leaving behind only arousal, joy and some gym routines. The unnecessary thoughts all dropped down into his steadily growing balls. His underdeveloped rod joined its sweaty globes, and began growing. Inch after inch began sliding down the pink shorts leg.
Derek grinned as he saw his python alive and well. He was happy he was a grower, otherwise not a single pair of pants would be able to contain his massive 12 incher.
He pulled down his shorts to admire his python, not only big in length but also a respectable girth. A clod of pre ran down its length. Derek slowly began to stroke, his balls quickly responding. Before long, thick ropes of cum shot against the mirror, his former life leaving Derek in the most pleasant way possible. Not a trace of the old Derek remained, apart from the bright pink shorts he was wearing, which he couldn't wait to pull off and plant his dick between a cute twinks plump cheeks.
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Wanna get a new life? Call Rakurai Inc. Or place an order in my Dms!!
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bitethehnd · 2 months
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softbutch!julien x highfemme!reader hcs ♡
cw : sfw, afabfem!reader, petnames, butchfemme dynamics, disustingly cute fluff, musician!reader, curly hair!reader, pre-relationship and established relationship :) heavily inspired by this fic, go read it!
a/n : i realize this isn't for everyone, i love all my gnc / non-femme babies! if this dynamic doesn't apply to you, go ahead and skip! this is very self-indulgent and i didn't really think i'd every publish this, but you guys requested it in my poll! for all my butches and femmes, ily ♡
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✧ from the moment julien's eyes locked with yours, she knew she had to meet you
˖ the day you two met was around four years ago. you were a small, nashville-born artist performing with your band in a local lesbian bar. the crowd wasn't huge, and the pay wasn't great, but you loved performing to people that shared that same connection with you. the feeling of growing up different and the alienation that came with it
˖ you were on the small stage in the back of the bar, singing your heart out to the small crowd. the people around were dancing and drinking, enjoying one of the only places they felt comfortable in. julien was amongst them, but she was alone. she had come to this small bar to get inspiration for her new album. she thanked the heavens above that she made that decision. she got to see you for the first time. you were the prettiest thing she had ever seen. she knew she would kick herself for the rest of her life if she didn't talk to you after your performance
˖ the deep red dress you wore was lacy and frilly, matching the pattern of your stockings. your hair was tied half back with a bow the same shade of crimson. you bounced around on stage like you had trained your whole life for it. the flawlessness and perfection of the way you sung pulled julien in, becoming mesmerized by your siren-like voice
˖ your eyes full of excitement scanned across the room curiously, observing everyone with interest as you sung into the microphone. as soon as your eyes connected with julien's, you felt a jitter in your lungs. she stood on the side of the stage, a glass of water in hand, just silently observing you with curiosity. she was beautiful. utterly handsome. she wore a white button down tucked into a pair of baggy blue jeans, black oxfords on her feet, and simple jewelry scarcely scattered around her body. you quickly took your eyes off her and to a random point around the room, feeling your face heat up. julien smiled at the sight and immediately knew she had to know you
˖ after your band finished the small show, you all headed into the back room of the bar. you all stored away your instruments to pick up later, as you all decided to mingle about the crowd and stay for a while. you grabbed your purse, put on a fresh coat of lip gloss and made your way back to the front. you stayed close to your guitarist, daisy, at the bar, feeling a bit overwhelmed in the presence of all the people there. you ordered a simple cherry coke, not feeling like being hungover tomorrow when you had to go back to your day job
˖ soon enough, daisy left you alone to go talk to a woman that caught her eye. you took small sips of your drink as you sat at the bar, doe eyes gazing around you. in that moment, you saw the handsome woman from before. she was engaged in a simple conversation with one of the other bartenders farther down from you. she turned her head, and you locked eyes again. she seemed to have a conflicting look on her face before excusing herself from the bartender and making her way over to where you sat. your eyes widened as she walked over, not expecting her to actually come and talk to you
˖ julien strolled over and stood next to you, setting her glass of water down on the bar top. she had a small smile on her face, almost a smirk, as she looked up at you. “hi, sweetheart. can i sit?” you quickly nodded your head in confirmation. you turned your body to the side to face her as she sat, a shy smile on your face. she was even prettier up close. “i’m y/n! it’s nice to meet you,” you said gently. “i’m julien, nice to meet you too, sweetheart. your performance was wonderful,” she said softly, her confidence slowly deteriorating. she could hardly think when all she smelled was your vanilla perfume. “oh god, thank you! i’m glad someone was listening. usually, my band only plays small shows so it’s hard to get people engaged.” god, you were adorable. “of course. it would be hard not to listen, your voice is so beautiful. i’m in a band myself, actually.”
˖ thus began the meaningful conversation about music and your own bands. julien told you she was a part of boygenius. you revealed that you knew of the band’s ep released two years prior and loved the music. you even knew a couple of her solo songs and told her your favorites. this made julien smile brightly and the connection deepened
˖ eventually, your other bands members came up to you and said they were leaving after about 30 minutes of conversing with julien. you were disappointed but bid her goodbye. before you could make an exit, she grabbed your bicep gently to hold you back. "could i... get your number?" she asked with hope. you immediately nodded your head with an excited smile, typing your number in her phone, putting a little heart by your name. she grinned at your cuteness. just before you left, you pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. she touched the spot absentmindedly as she walked to her car, a red print of lips stuck to the apple of her cheek
✧ julien courting you
˖ your meeting at the bar was the first, but definitely not the last time you saw julien. the next day, she quickly texted you as she woke up. she wanted to text you as soon as you left her sight the night before but didn't want to seem too eager. she shot you a message to let you know it was her before asking how you slept, ever the gentleman. you two quickly got caught in another conversation, both smiling on separate ends of the phone. she asked all about your hobbies. she learned that you didn't just have an affinity for music, but also for art and history. she decided then and there that she had to take you to an art museum
˖ your text conversations went on like this for a few days. all you could do when chatting with her was lay on your stomach on your bed, kicking your feet and feeling your face heat up. you felt like a high schooler all over again. you constantly felt yourself biting the inside of your cheeks to stop the grin from spreading on your face every time a message from her popped up on the screen
˖ thus begun the start of your dates. julien followed through with taking you to an art museum, loving the way your face lit up with joy at all the paintings and sculptures. some frequent spots for the two of you were homey coffee shops (julien's favorite, obviously), magical gardens, taking hikes among beautiful trees, and just sitting and talking. it didn't matter what you two did, it just mattered that you were together
˖ julien adored the way you wrapped your arm around her bicep, when you let her drape her coat over your shoulders, the sweet kisses you pressed to her cheek. the smirk never fell from her face for hours after you did anything affectionate. you felt giddy every time she called you 'sweetheart' or 'pretty,' when she protectivly wrapped her arm around your waist in crowded spaces, or when brought you small gifts. she never came to get you empty handed. she always came to pick you up from your apartment complex, open the car door for you, and always had a gift waiting for you on the seat. some common ones were records you had talked about, flowers, books, or a new one of your favorite foods that changed every week. julien never missed the little things you said, always storing them into her memory for a later use
˖ you loved getting to know her. nights spent sitting on the roof of your apartment, gazing at the stars were your favorites. every little single thing about her was interesting to you, and vice versa. you loved hearing about the bands that inspired her to make music, her favorite tattoos, or funny stories from her childhood. she loved when you talked about your favorite stuffed animal you religiously slept with as a little girl, your ramblings about the pros and cons of lipgloss brands, or just how pretty the sky looked at a particular moment
˖ after about three weeks of seeing each other almost every day, she asked you to be her girlfriend. a little slow compared to most lesbian relationships, but julien wanted to find the perfect time to ask. she didn't wat this to be a whirlwind romance, she wanted seriousness and commitment. you were both willing to give it to each other. she took you to that art museum she remembered you saying you liked. you looked utterly gorgeous strolling around and gazing at all the paintings, curly hair tied with a bow swinging behind you. you two walked around for about an hour, her arm wrapped firmly around your waist. every time you commented about how pretty an art piece was, she'd reply with "not as pretty as you." it never failed to leave you more infatuated with her
˖ after the museum date, she took you to a beautiful park filled with the blooming flowers of spring. you gazed around in wonder, eyes taking in the pretty sight. julien sat you down on a park bench, turning to face you, clasping your hands into her own. you were a bit confused and the anxiety of her telling you she didn't want to see you anymore crept up. before you could voice your thoughts, she asked the question, "can i be your girlfriend?" you answered immediately with a loving kiss to her lips, which she took as a yes. after the moment of passion was over, she pulled out a small box from the pocket of her leather jacket. she handed it to you with a small, nervous smile on her face, telling you to open it. inside the red velvet box was a heart shaped necklace with the letter 'j' on it. she pulled up the sleeve of her jacket to reveal a matching bracelet, the heart having your initial on it instead
✧ when you’re dating, julien never stops falling in love with you, and you fall right with her
˖ even after you two get together, the dates never come to a stop. at least once a week, either you or julien plan something together. whether it be a cooking class, sitting in a field and sketching, or playing each other your new music
˖ after about two months of dating, she asks you to move in with her. lucy warned her it might be “too quick,” but julien wasn’t hearing any of it. she wanted to be around you all the time, completely infatuated. you weren’t much better. you joke that if she could crawl inside your skin and live there, she would. she doesn’t disagree, but she wasn’t going to tell you that
˖ now, as a butch, moving in is julien’s thing. she’s anxious and over-prepared when she shows up to your house the day of the move. she refused to hire moving men because she insisted she could “do everything a man could do and better.” she’s not wrong there, so you don’t protest. she disassembles all your furniture that you’re taking with you to her house with ease. she wasn’t lying when she said she was handy. and she refuses to even let you carry the lightest box, smirking and saying, “don’t want you to chip a nail.” you smack her on the back of the head and plop down on the ground, just watching her. you do sneak a couple boxes though…
˖ after you got all of your belongings loaded into the u-haul truck (ironic, i know), you set off to her house. during the whole drive, she rambled about where to put all the new furniture and how exciting it was going to be to live together. you just stared at her with loving eyes and a soft smile, nodding alone to whatever random thought popped in her head
˖ when you got to her apartment, she got all of your essential things in and decided she'd get the rest in the morning. while she did that, you rummaged through her cabinets to find something to cook for dinner. you picked a simple meal of spaghetti and meatballs. as she placed the last box down, you served the pasta at the dining table. she wiped the sweat from her face with the bottom of her shirt while you tried so hard to not stare at her abs, you failed. she gave you a cocky smile when she caught you but said nothing. you two sat and ate your first dinner in your shared apartment, basking in the glow of love
˖ the longer you two lived together, the more accustomed you guys got to a routine. you'd be the one to get up first in the morning, julien still snoring like a middle-aged dad, while you made breakfast. you'd gently shake her awake and lead her to the kitchen, tempting her with the aroma of coffee and bacon. she always swore you made coffee "better than dunkin,'" but you knew that was a lie. never get in the way of that woman and her dunkin' donuts. after breakfast, julien would go on a jog. while she did that, you read a favorite book of yours or plan out some new songs
˖ the list of pet names she called you lengthened every day. there was a rang of sweet ones, like baby, babe, princess, angel, sweetheart, honey, doll, etc. but she also called you ones you figured she pulled out of her ass, no idea where she even got the idea from. you knew they were all a joke and it made you laugh with disgust ever time. some are pookie (phoebe's idea, of course), snookums, the wife (your favorite), boss, the missus, sugar tits and punk. you have some for her too, but she defiantly wins in the pet name category
˖ dancing in the kitchen in the middle of the night, illuminated by the refrigerator light ♡♡♡ she puts on some records from the 50's and you slow dance until the sun comes up. she keeps a firm hand on your waist and yours on the shoulders, her twirling and dipping you just to hear you giggle in delight
˖ let me tell you, this woman cannot keep her hands off of you, especially when in public. she always has a hand on the small of your back, leading you through crowds. or her fingers interlaced with your while doing mundane things, like getting groceries or walking through the park. it intensifies even more when at your apartment. her hand acts like its glued to your thigh during movie nights or her hands around your waist, standing behind you while you're doing the dishes
˖ she loves loves lovesss watching you do your hair or makeup, even offering to help sometimes. you look so focused applying your mascara or gliding on lip gloss. she even lets you give her makeovers sometimes, but only with the premise of no pictures (you do sneak a few though). she especially loves doing your hair. she's as careful as possible, understanding your hair is hard to deal with and can be knotty at times. she knows by heart to "only brush it when it's wet!!!" she has straight hair, so she does extensive research on what products and techniques are best for your hair type. she adores putting little bows all over your curls
˖ overall, the relationship is healthy and so full of love. you and julien fit so well together, it's almost like you were crafted to be each other's soulmate
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© bitethehnd ୨ ♡ ୧ let me know if you guys want more parts to this! i also wanna do highfemme!gf reader for all munagenius members so give me some ideasss
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hotvintagepoll · 3 months
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Propaganda
Heather Angel (The Informer, The Undying Monster)—no propaganda submitted
Katharine Hepburn (Bringing Up Baby, The Philadelphia Story, The African Queen)—This woman. I have been obsessed with her for years. I know the urban legend is a popular one at this point of her walking around set in her underwear when her pants were stolen and she was left with only a skirt, but the pants thing is honestly enough for her to be the hottest in the room in my book. She refused to wear anything else at a time when the public in general and especially the studios did not like that. She was independent, stubborn, and so so very capable. Competency kink anyone? Also, if you want one final way that Katharine's entire life was saying "fuck you" to the establishment, it started young! Her mother took her to suffrage events, and she never got rid of that attitude of justice. I feel like I have barely scratched the surface of all the ways she was such a badass that I'm turning into a rambling mess instead.
This is round 1 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Heather Angel propaganda:
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Katharine Hepburn propaganda:
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I'm sure one million people will submit her as an iconic Hollywood star but that iconicness might lead people to forget just how insanely hot she was like she had it ALL she was skilled she was funny she was smart she was beautiful AND she was likely bisexual
The single word I would use to explain Katherine Hepburn's appeal is *range*. In her acting career, that meant covering all the ground between lush period dramas and the comedies she did with Carey Grant and Spencer Tracey. In terms of hotness, it meant an uncanny ability to bring anything from a Dietrich-esque androgyny to some of the best Classic Hollywood Glamour you will ever see.
Katharine hep was so cool. The VIBES, the INDEPENDENCE,,, living life on her own terms.
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she just had this.... bearing to her, this power. she could be funny, even silly (like in bringing up baby) but also so regal and elegant. she was nobody's fool and dear GOD that's so hot
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She’s not only stunningly gorgeous (those eyes that pierce your soul! a jawline you could cut glass with!) but her delivery and physical presence in roles gives off confidence and authority in such a sexy way (truly the biggest dick energy of Old Hollywood). Her fiery energy in The Philadelphia Story? Unmatched.
God she's. She's so hot y'all. She has the range!!!!! Funny and dramatic and lovely
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She IS the transatlantic accent. Classically gorgeous and such a strong personality.
She's literally one of the funniest women to ever live! She goes shot for shot with Cary Grant in Philadelphia Story and we damn well love her for it! She's the most annoying creature to ever live in Bringing Up Baby but she's so insane and funny that we simply cannot help but fall in love with her (and root for her to give Grant an aneurysm!)
i know she's accounted for but i really want to be sure someone has submitted the scene in bringing up baby where she's pretending to be a gangster
She simply stuns onscreen; you cannot do anything but be captivated by her presence. Also a non-gender-conforming icon and mild tumblr celebrity by virtue of that one picture from The Warrior's Husband (stage play).
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Katharine Hepburn was out here casually changing the lives of young butch lesbians with her gender swag! She wore pants even when people said she shouldn’t, she refused to marry or have kids, and she wore menswear in at LEAST one movie!
Someone's got to mention it, but she's won the most Oscars out of any performer and is largely considered one of the greatest actresses ever. She's got an incredible voice, an incredible presence, and she absolutely steals every scene she's in. She was private person and deemed standoffish and unapproachable, but she was also profoundly concerned for people's rights and was an outspoken supporter of abortion access. Finally, the Katharine Hepburn slacks look is just iconic. I mean look at her.
If I start thinking about her face for too long I will cry she is so so hot. Katherine is so charismatic and charming in everything she appears in - watch her adopt a leopard and fall in love with her. Also she has the biggest dick energy ever (she and her pal Lauren Bacall share that accolade). Also had an incredibly long and varied career from screw ball comedies to serious dramas - she’s a queen of the screen and I adore her.
(I hope someone else submits real propaganda but just in case they don't:) Cries. Screams. Wails. The woman who singlehandedly made me realize I was bi. A real "do i want to look like her. be her. or be with her.' crisis, where the answer was all three. Holy shit please all three.
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377 notes · View notes
talaok · 11 months
Note
Hey. I have an idea for pedro and reader
The reader's ex calls her in the middle of the night begging her back to him and the reader gets out the bedroom trying not to wake pedro up and avoid any fight but he wakes up and gets jealous and angry
Jealous Pedro is my own personal curse lol, I genuinely don’t get why you like him. But for you? Anything babes. Also, happy ending won in the poll, but thanks to an anon I've decided to write both endings bc I'm an asshole
warnings: jealousy, angst
Pt.2
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Oh fuck please not again.
Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, and you didn’t even need to look at the caller to know who it was.
Only one person would call you at 4:45 am. the same one that had been flooding you with texts and calls for a week now.
You had been ignoring him, telling yourself that “It’s just a phase” and “it’ll pass”, but god, had you been wrong.
You and Jason had broken up two years ago now, and casually, just when you had finally made your relationship with Pedro public, he felt the need to connect with you again.
That's not how Jason had always been, he was once caring and fun and everything you needed... until he wasn't.
He hadn't taken your breaking up with him well, and you tried to be understanding of it, god knows you had been in the same position too once or twice, your heart broken, your mind confused- but then when after two months he'd still call you crying, you decided to give him a little tough love by texting him something that could be summarized in "I know you're hurt but this is getting kind of ridiculous at this point" and by blocking him.
Somewhere after that, for some godforsaken reason, you had decided to unblock him, and to really show off your decision-making skills, you even answered the phone when he had called you last week, finding him in tears, begging for a second chance.
If you were anyone to judge, this call wasn't gonna be much different, but this story had to end at one point, and as you got up from the bed, sneaking out of the room as Pedro breathed soft snores into the air, you decided the time had come.
"Jason?" you whispered, tiptoeing to the living room.
"baby? Oh my god it's really you, I've been trying to call you"
"yeah I saw" you stated, not short of sarcasm
"Oh t-that's ok, you were busy I jus-"
"no Jason I wasn't busy, this is inappropriate"
"Wha-what are you talking about baby, I love you" 
there went the tears again
"Jason I'm sorry alright, but I don't, I have a boyfriend, I'm happy"
"no you don't understand babe I can't live without you, I love you more than life y/n, more than anything... I- I need you"
"Jason we broke up a long time ago. It's over. It has been for a while now"
"you don't mean that baby, we love each other, remember how good we were together? I know you do"
"stop calling me baby and stop calling me in general Jason. I don't love you and I don't want to get back together" Your voice raised to a whispery-yell as you got more frustrated.
"Why are you whispering- Is he there? Let me talk to him"
"why would I do that? What would you even want to tell him?"
"I'm sure I can make him understand, man to man y'konw-"
"oh shut up" you rolled your eyes "Jason stop calling me"
"but bab-"
"No. No buts, it's over. we're never getting back together. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going back to sleep, and I suggest you do the same"
"y/n please- I love you, I need you I-"
"goodnight Jason. Don't call me again" You didn't give him time to finish as you hung up, throwing your phone on the couch and closing your eyes as you took a very well-deserved deep breath.
Fuck this shit man.
"Who was it?"
You jumped on your feet, a shiver of fear running down your spine as you turned towards the ominous voice.
"Pedro-" you sighed, taking in his sleep-filled expression.
"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you" he apologized, with a soft chuckle "Who were you talking to?"
shit
"uh- don't worry, it was no one"
"I don't think it was no one if you got up at 4 in the morning to answer, did something happen?"
"no-no nothing like that, it's stupid, don't worry"
He frowned as he studied your expression, clearly confused at your secrecy.
"Who was it?"
Your eyes focused behind him at the glimpse of your room the opened door granted.
Everything was fine just 10 minutes ago...
"It was Jason"
Pedro paused a moment, taken aback by your answer
"Jason as in your ex-boyfriend Jason?" he asked "And why exactly was Jason calling you in the middle of the night?"
"it's not what you think" 
This was why you didn't want him to know.
He had a history with unfaithfulness, the woman before you had cheated on him multiple times and left him hurt and bruised, and it was hard for him to fully trust you - or anyone for that matter- after that.
you didn't want him to close off again, you trusted each other, and you feared this would have given him a reason to get back to old habits.
"It's not? 'cause it sure looks like it"
"no, let me explain-" you got closer to him.
"I'm so fucking stupid" he huffed, not listening to you 
"no you're not, just-listen to me" you said, putting a hand on his chest in an attempt to calm him down
He watched you, hurt and anger in his eyes, but he took a breath, nodding as he grumbled a "fine"
"He's been calling me for a while-"
"is that supposed to make me feel better?"
"Baby, let me talk" you reminded him, and he gave you another non-enthusiastic nod "He's been calling me since I made our relationship public, saying that he wants to get back with me and that he loves me..." you paused, glancing at the way he tightened his fists by his side "and I've been ignoring him because-" your lips turned into a soft smile as you reached for his hand "...well because I've got you, and I don't want anybody else in the world except you"
You intertwined your fingers with his and brought his hand up to your mouth to leave a quick kiss on it.
"and the only reason why I answered tonight is because I was sick of it, and I wanted to tell him once and for all that we're done because I love you, and only you Pedro" You stood on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek "I promise"
You saw the way your words affected him.
And as much as he tried to fight it, you were always the only one able to calm him down, even when his worst fear came to life. Because he loved you, but most importantly... he trusted you.
"are you telling the truth?" he finally asked, as if in his mind he wasn't praying for you to be doing just that.
He didn't want to lose you, he couldn't.
"I am baby. I swear" 
His eyes left yours for a second as he took a deep breath
"why didn't you tell me? I would have done something, I would have gone have a talk with that asshole"
You let out a small laugh
"yeah, a talk" you teased, raising your eyebrows "And besides it didn't matter, it was just a stupid thing not worth your time"
he took your other hand in his, shaking his head
"if he, or anybody else, does this again you tell me, ok?" 
As much as you wanted to joke about how many crazy exes he believed you had, you decided this wasn't the time.
"ok" you smiled "I promise"
"good" he nodded, bending down to ghost your lips "Now let's go to bed so I can remind you of a few things I'm sure I'm better at than Jason"
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or... (angst with no happy ending)
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"It's not what you think"
"It's not? 'cause it sure looks like it"
"It was just a phone call Pedro, just let me explain"
"A phone call with your ex-boyfriend"
"yes, exactly my ex-boyfriend"
"This is unbelievable," he huffed, passing a hand through his hair in a frustrated gesture "I fucking trusted you. You made me trust you, and then... then you go screw that fucking asshole behind my back"
"I'm not screwing anybody"
"sure you aren't" he turned to walk away, but you grabbed his arm.
"Listen to me"
"To what? more lies?" he snapped 
"No Pedro I can explain if you just let me talk"
"I don't need an explanation, I know exactly what's going on, just- leave me, I'll go"
"Just like that?" you questioned "You don't even wanna hear me out for a second? You so easily lose all the trust you had in me?"
"Can you blame me?" 
"This is ridiculous, I've answered the phone to tell him to stop calling, that's the only reason why! I'm not cheating on you" you spoke, your tone getting louder "And the fact that you came to that conclusion so quickly is fucking insulting"
"right" he snickered "so you answered the phone at four in the morning to tell him to stop calling, very believable y/n" he shook his head "and to think you're a fucking actress"
"fuck you Pedro" you spat out "You know what? I deserve someone who trusts me, who lets me fucking speak and explain myself, not someone who at the first mistake throws me out like trash"
"And I deserve someone who's not a cheater. Guess we both deserve better"
"I guess we do"
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fluffyprettykitty · 6 months
Text
Billy Russo's NSFW alphabet
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Pairing: Billy Russo x female reader (no other specifications!)
Word Count: 2000 words
Warnings: oral sex, multiple sex positions, sex toys, gun kink, choking, temperature play, cum play, sub/dom roles, praise kink, phone sex, if I missed anything major please let me know!
Author’s Note: what won the poll yay! template can be found here! Dedicating to my fellow billy hoe @that-sarcastic-writer, ily, here's some porn <3
PS: dividers & banners by @/saradika
Main Masterlist ・❥・Billy Russo Masterlist
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Billy is big into aftercare after sex, he likes taking care of their partner, soothing their skin, applying lotion, helping them shower, and cleaning them up thoroughly, he is into taking care of his own so he wants the same treatment for his partner.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Billy's favorite body part of his is of course his cock, he is the type of guy who has given a nickname to it and always refers to his cock as a second person rather than a body part. Now as for his partner Billy is into necks, he loves kissing and caressing and watching you squirm just from the most innocent touch.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Billy truly does love cumming, he says that it's a work of an art. and god's gift to mankind to cum on your body, he does prefer cumming on you rather than inside you cause he loves watching it spread but he's never opposed to a creampie either.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Billy would never directly tell you because he loves not losing control but he loves it when you take care of him, like praising him, telling how good he's doing, it just makes him go harder and rougher on you hearing your sweet praises. His pride though won't let him admit it because he also loves playing into the sensual dominant role as well.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Billy is one of the most experienced men in the world. He has been into women since he was a teen and knew how to chase them and make them his therefore there have been many one night stands in his life, some longer than one night and some multiple times a year. In short Billy has never met a woman he couldn't flirt with.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Billy loves it when you top him. He loves sitting back on the couch or the bed and watching you work your body on him. He will guide your hips or hold your back or your breasts helping you leverage your movements better. He is truly into the visuals and if he could he'd had you like this several times a day.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Billy is more serious than most, he loves praising you or guiding you and in a moment he might tell a joke to relax you a little but for the most part he sticks to the main part.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Billy is very much into himself therefore he takes really good care of his body with several trips to beauticians and what not so he is very well groomed and most clean.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
He can get very intimate as in he loves being a romantic a heart and he loves that primal position of taking care of a woman. He loves caressing you and soothing your skin and kissing you again and again making you feel loved in the moment and watching you look at him with eyes full of love. He will whisper several i love yous in the right moment when he feels the need to.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Billy mostly likes jacking off to your pictures or videos you took together when he's away on his business trips. He loves setting up his screen to watch your pretty body or calling you to hear your sexy voice and he grunts and strokes his cock when you tell him to. He is very into masturbating together over the phone.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
He is a very kinky man. There isn't any sexual position he hasn't yet tried but one of his favourites is lingerie. He loves buying you the goods himself and watching you model for him, or keeping one of your panties in his pocket.
Billy is also very very into choking you but also loves it when you choke him as well. He gets extremely aroused when you wrap your hands around his neck and squeeze and if it wasn't for his extraordinary military discipline he'd cum right there and then.
Another kink of his is temperature play, whether wax or ice or anything else he loves that slow sensual build it gives you, and loves taking his time fucking you and building up the suspense towards the main act.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Billy is the type of person who could have you anywhere and on any surface available but he's absolutely favorite is shoved up in a corner a little bit away from preying eyes because he honestly couldn't wait to get you home to fuck you. Second favourite is the car for the same reason. Then comes the bedroom only for that nice long morning fucks.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
What doesn't turn him on. Billy is a very horny man by design, because he's incredibly passionate and genuinely extremely active in all senses he rarely rests. Being in the same room with you is what drives him crazy the most, he can't spend too much time together without wanting to fuck you or thinking of how to shove you in the nearest corner. If anything you've always wondered how he can live with constantly having an almost hard-on.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Billy would never do something you didn't want to do. He is very big on boundaries and discussing kinks and what not with each other.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Billy does love giving more than receiving only cause he is such an expert with his tongue and he knows how much you also love it. Billy loves taking his time and turning into an all night activity with his shirt off cause he will get sweaty, his fingers working inside you or on your thighs and his tongue close to your cunt teasing you and working you. He also loves eating you out from the back whenever he watches you lean a little too much on the counter and he can barely help himself. Billy also likes when you ride his face whenever work stresses you a little too much.
Now as for him, he is never opposed to one although his favorite is when you want to do it while he's driving. Something about your mouth on him, your ass up with his spare hand slapping you or fingering you gives him such an insane power trip that keeps him going. Although he never would say no to a messy blowjob when he's working hard on a case.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Billy can truly be anything you need him to be. Fast or slow, he loves to build it all to keep the momentum and give you the maximum pleasure. Billy switches it up several times, going from slow to rough back to slowly kissing right before hitting the edge and back at it again. At stressful days at work he works your body like a boxing cage and on other days he works your body like a violin. It all depends on the circumstances.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
He is not opposed to a quickie although he does prefer it longer. He usually goes that route during dinner parties or outings with other people. He is incapable of keeping his hands to himself even if you had fucked a minute before arriving everywhere so his option to not let other people get too suspicious is a quickie. A quick fill as he loves to call it.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Billy loves experimenting, trying new things, new positions, several role play parts, trying out new toys or new ways. He is a very risky man in all aspects of his life so he makes sure his bedroom activities are also extremely adventurous.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Billy's stamina is incredible, he is the very definition of an insatiable man and therefore it's hard for him to stop. He could last a whole day teasing your denying you his cock when he feels like to but if you keep on teasing him yourself he would try his very best to please you. He always make sure you cum first regardless, but mostly he gives it all in the end.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Billy didn't had toys on his own before he met you but after he managed to build quite a collection. All of different speeds and volumes and what not, all to be used on you, when you get him his first cocksucker he almost whines about it but he does secretly use it when he's away. Now as for the cock ring he keeps it on until you tell him to take it off and he listens like the good boy he is!
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Billy loves to tease but his endgame is always to fuck so his teasing doesn't take too long to stop. He just loves watching you squirm in the moment until you beg him.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Billy can ber very loud for a man, he moans and grunts and talks a lot during the act. He moans when he eats you, he grunts when he fucks you and he groans when he gets inside you. It's hard for other people not to hear you when you go at it.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Billy does love his toys. But what he loves the most is his guns. He is not one to hesitate to use it during the act once he knows he can trust you and you are about as crazy as he is. He loves taking the cool metal side up your things and teasing your entrance till he slips int inside and in the same vain he likes it when he keeps it against your neck fucking you from behind. He might like it a little bit more when he also makes you cum on it and then has you lick it clean but that's for you to find out.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Billy has a perfect adonis-like body, his military training has given him the discipline and the motivation to always keep at it so this with the combination of how well-groomed he is gives him the perfect body. Now as for his cock, he is a bit lengthy cause of his tall build and girthy enough to make you remember him forever.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Billy has an incredible sex drive because he is a constantly horny man. Even worse than a teenage boy. He is always ready for it anywhere and in any place.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)
Billy does sleep quickly afterward especially after having taken a shower with you and wrapping you tenderly inside his arms. He sleeps with his chin on your shoulder and drifts when your breaths match up.
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bones4thecats · 4 months
Text
When They Protect Their S/O From Harm
Type of Writing: #6 - Poll Result Characters: Izana Kurokawa, Kakucho, Ran Haitani, and Rindou Haitani Name: When They Protect Their S/O From Harm Original Poll Link: Here
A/N: This was fun to write, ngl!
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🎴 Izana is a possessive person by heart, since he has lost so many people in his life, he doesn't want to ever feel that same pain again, and he made that very clear the day you started your relationship
🎴 And while he does trust you with his life, he was not amused by the newest recruit of his gang
🎴 Kakucho had informed his friend that the new member was seemingly acting very out of sorts and was getting far to close to you, asking you questions that were mainly about the gang
🎴 Ever since then, he has had the Four Heavenly Kings watch over the guy, just to make sure he wasn't attempting to cross a boundary
🎴 But, when the man jumped out from the gang during a confrontation between a fairly new and dangerous one, he wasn't surprised
🎴 What did surprise him was how he was so bold with his actions, not caring who he was hitting, he even lunged and began to attack Ran and Rindou without someone beside him
🎴 He definitely had balls
🎴 Izana gritted his teeth in a smile as the numerous members fell by his hits, the only reason his smile faltered was when he saw how he lunged after you with his fist raised
🎴 His eyes darkened as he sprinted away from his intended hit and kicked the guy with full force into a nearby wall, growling lowly as he noticed a long knife, one similar to a butcher's fell from his jacket
" If you ever try harming my S/O again, I'll kill you so painfully that you'd rather have your organs torn out by a vulture's pointed beak. "
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🍂 He trusted you with his life and his jealousy level never was sky-rocketing like his friend, Izana's
🍂 Despite that information, Kakucho was getting nervous with how a new member of Tenjiku was acting around you, and he was trying to keep it not super obvious
🍂 You were speaking to the young male near daily, and he could tell that he wanted something more than an ally or friend in you
🍂 Watching as he just wrapped an arm around your waist in a hug, he clenched his fists, providing amusement to Ran and Rindou, who were prodding at his jealousy
🍂 He could tell you were getting uncomfortable with how touchy he was with you, and he was attempting to let the guy down nicely with his words
" Excuse me, would you take a hand off my S/O. You're making them uncomfortable. "
🍂 Kakucho watched as the guy's eyes widened as the yells of Rindou's entered the base, and Kakucho knew what he was yelling, there was a rival gang invading
🍂 He glared as the man took out a blade and held it to your neck, yelling on how he was gonna slit your throat like a pig and let you die unless they let him go
🍂 Izana ran up behind Kakucho and laid a hand on his shoulder, giving him a nod as he readied himself for battle
🍂 Your boyfriend began to walk around the guy as Izana lunged, making the man holding you hostage back away and hold his blade up to attack
🍂 Thankfully, Kakucho ran around and kicked the guy from behind as Izana caught you from falling, saying how Kakucho would be back and the guy would be thoroughly punished while the rest of the gang handled his
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🐈‍⬛ Due to his stance in many different areas of the delinquent-life, Ran has made quite a few enemies in the past few years, and he swore he would keep them far away from you
🐈‍⬛ But, Izana had banned him from trying to unleash fights inside of Tenjiku, pushing his anger to be further enlarged as he saw the guy playfully mess with you
🐈‍⬛ That was his job, not his
🐈‍⬛ As his anger grew, he could tell you were getting suspicious of the man, since his questions were drifting to more of your boyfriend and you than the gang or any upcoming fights
🐈‍⬛ When the man revealed himself to be working for a rival gang, due to the constant pressure from Hanma, you ran behind your boyfriend, to make sure the guy couldn't grab you
🐈‍⬛ But, unfortunately, while Ran was handling him, another member of the guy had snuck behind you and began to chock you out
🐈‍⬛ Turning around and not finding you standing there, dodging attacks was something that Ran did not expect, so, when he saw the guy holding you down and obviously saying things only he should be saying to you got him pissed beyond belief
🐈‍⬛ He grabbed his baton from his side and swung it so hard the guy was knocked out and bleeding from one shot and one shot alone
" Nobody touches my S/O in that way or even talks to them in that way other than me. And if anyone else has a problem with that, come at me bastards. "
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🐈 Rindou, much like many different characters in Tokyo Revengers, is protective over his S/O
🐈 And while he understands they can defend their-selves to a specific amount, he cannot help but think the worst of what could happen
🐈 Unfortunately, this happened because of a certain traitor in Tenjiku, and that situation ended up with one person possibly on the brink of death
🐈 Your boyfriend was arguing with his twin, which was quite common, and you just chuckled as they argued like two teenage girls, since Ran had decided to tick off Rindou for fun
🐈 He was busy dealing with Ran when Kakucho announced from the entrance to even look around for you, he expected you were ready to fight, like always
🐈 Sadly, he was completely wrong...
🐈 He had heard a loud slam and he turned around to kick someone back when he saw your body, completely unconscious with blood lightly coming out of your head
🐈 Anger consumed him as he noticed Ran launched him forward alongside him, and he understood he knew exactly what he was going to do
🐈 Ran held his baton up as Rindou pinned the guy down in a lock, his famous locking the man's joints and eventually putting enough pressure in to break his limbs while his twin began to beat him senseless with the metal poll
🐈 The man yelled in pain as Rindou let go and kicked the already broken leg of the male's deeper into the ground, and he ran to your body, carrying you in a bridal pose and brought you to a safe area
🐈 Ran could hold his ground for a little while
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