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freedomfireflies · 1 year

Text

Show Me*

Summary: The second part to Teach Me*

Class is in session, and this time, Harry needs a little help exploring his favorite kinks. Like...how to get somebody off underneath a table.

And you're more than happy to lend a helping...hand.

Word Count: 6k

“So…how did she like it?”

Harry laughs as he slips out of his car. “Wow, I think that’s a new record. Waited a whole thirty seconds to ask me.”

“Bite me,” you retort as he makes his way toward where you’re waiting on the sidewalk. “Well?”

He shrugs, hands shoving into his pockets. “Dunno. We never got to it.”

“So, just straight to the fucking, then, huh?” you question. “No foreplay at all? I mean, hey…if that’s what she’s into…great. But, personally, I think the foreplay is the best—”

“All right,” he interjects with a wicked yet amused grin. “That’s not what I meant. She got called into work before we could.”

“Oh.” You offer him a pitiful frown. “Sorry, bud.”

“Bite me,” he mimics as he brushes past you. “S’fine. It’ll happen when it happens.”

“That’s the spirit,” you encourage as you fall in-line beside him. “Gives you more time to find your nerve.”

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly, glancing down at the concrete. “Or more time to practice…other things.”

“Other things?”

“Yeah,” he says again, one brow raising as he looks back over. “You know, like…how to eat ass.”

Finally catching onto his joke, you groan and reach out to shove him away from you, watching as he stumbles with a laugh. “Fucking hilarious.”

“Listen, I was actually looking forward to it,” he continues, hand over his heart as if disappointed. “I bet you really know how to eat some ass.”

“Ha…ha.”

“What? You do, don’t you? Cause of…Eric?”

The familiar but dreaded name sends a shiver down your spine as you recoil away and scrunch your nose in horror. “Ew.”

He looks proud. “Well? Am I wrong?”

“Yes,” you huff before sighing. “…no. But he wasn’t that great of a teacher, anyhow.”

“No fucking kidding,” Harry snorts with a smile. “You’re much better.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course,” he beams, reaching out for the door of the restaurant to swing it open. “After you.”

“As it should be,” you tease, winking to hint at the double entendre, and his eyes roll.

You find your large group of friends already gathered around a table near the back of the room, and quickly make your way over.

For the next few minutes, you all exchange pleasantries, catch-up, and tease Harry about his failed attempt at mating.

He’s a good sport about it, flipping everyone off with a smile before changing the subject.

Because, despite the jokes, all of you know that Harry could have anybody he wanted. Maybe his experience in the bedroom is lacking but that’s only because it was a personal choice that he made. And everybody knows it. As far as charm and seduction go? Harry Styles is a king.

Perhaps even a God.

…no, that’s giving him too much credit.

You shake your head, clearing the thought away as you listen to your friends gossip about the newest celebrity drama and reality TV scandals.

And you try to care. Really, you do.

But your mind keeps…drifting.

To Eric.

God, you could just kill Harry for re-planting that seed in your subconscious and reminding you of the worst mistake you’ve ever made.

Because there was a time when Eric was everything to you. When you were closer to him than you were to Harry. When you trusted him—completely—with your mind, soul, and body.

And of course, he just had to shit all over the self-growth and progress you’d made.

You feel your phone vibrate from its place on your thigh, and you glance down to see Harry’s name flashing across the screen.

Sneaking a curious sideways peek his way, you swipe up to read his text.

So…Pete Davidson is Kim Kardashian’s stepfather now? Am I hearing that right?

Confused, your brows pull together as you look over at him.

His explanation is to nod at your friends across the table with a smirk, and you laugh.

I don’t know, you type. I wasn’t listening.

Oh? Why not? This is fascinating stuff.

Idk. Just wasn’t.

Harry’s expression seems to fall as he studies you before his fingers are flying across the screen. You were thinking about Eric, weren’t you?

…nooooooo.

His eyes narrow.

So what if I was?

Bee…you can do better than that. Even in your head.

See, you say that, and yet…here I am.

Because you’re not doing better. You can…you just aren’t.

Yeah? And how exactly would I do better?

You catch the way his lips pull back into a Cheshire-like grin as he begins to type.

Well, you kind of already did do better. With me. The other day.

Swallowing a scoff, you type, That was only because I felt bad for you.

Think you felt a lot of things that day, Bee. But bad wasn’t one of them.

You toss him a playful glare. Are you ever gonna let that go?

Not likely. After all, you did promise me another lesson.

You don’t need another lesson, you just need to stop being so goddamn annoying.

Come on, you can’t deprive me now. Not when I know I have so much to learn.

Google it.

Ouch.

You’ll live.

It’s not living if it’s not with you.

This time, you do groan, and reach over to swat his arm. “Stop,” you hiss. “You really are fucking annoying.”

“Learned from the best,” he retorts, leaning closer to you in an attempt to conceal the conversation. “Learned a lot of things from you, actually.”

“Harry,” you huff again, but you’re smirking. “My god, you don’t really wanna learn how to eat ass do you?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess I don’t really know what I wanna learn. That’s why I need a teacher. To teach me what I want.”

You know he’s fucking with you. You can see it all over his face and yet, for some reason…your interest is piqued. “Thought that was a one-time deal.”

“It was,” he agrees. “But…the door to knowledge is never closed.”

He follows this up with a devious chuckle to let you know he’s teasing, and you nudge him again. “See? Annoying.”

For a moment, you both put the topic to bed and return to the conversation happening across the table.

But again, your mind wanders.

Wanders all the way back to your bedroom and the image of Harry’s curls wound around your knuckles.

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about that afternoon quite a few times since it happened. After all, you’re only human. And Harry had done a rather excellent job. Sure, you’ve had a tad better. But for his first time…it wasn’t half bad.

And you’d waited to feel weird about it after the fact…but you never did. Which was strange. The two of you returned to your normal routine as if it had never happened.

And you were certainly glad for that. So why is it that now, as the opportunity for a relapse is placed so obviously in your lap, are you not repulsed by it?

Why is it that you haven’t immediately shut the idea down? Laughed it off? Why is it that you’re…considering it?

Again?

You almost want to shudder at the very thought, but as you look over to the chair beside you and take in Harry’s relaxed smile as he listens to your friends talk…something seems to shift.

You will admit, since your little…experiment…you’ve begun to equate those kinds of memories and feelings with Harry instead of Eric.

And that’s another thing you wouldn’t dare complain about. You like the idea of being able to associate pleasure with someone that makes you feel safe. Secure instead of unhinged.

And perhaps this is a huge mistake…but suddenly, you can’t seem to see the harm?

He gets to learn how to make a woman feel good and you get to erase Eric from your past permanently.

What could possibly be so wrong with that?

Subtly, you clear your throat as you turn your head to him, calling his attention away as he raises a brow.

“Okay, so…if I were to agree to another lesson…” you begin hesitantly as his eyes grow wide. “I’d need a little…information.”

He angles his body toward you as well, murmuring, “Yeah? Like what?”

You think for a moment. “I don’t know…what kinds of kinks do you have?”

“I don’t know,” he repeats smugly, nodding his chin at you. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to help me find out?”

You quickly glance across the table to make sure nobody is listening as you lean in and whisper, “Well…I don’t even know where to start with you. You’re a virgin, it’s hard.”

“I’m not a virgin,” he corrects with a scoff. “I just…haven’t done it a lot since the first time.”

“Mhm,” you snort. “Doesn’t change the fact that if you don’t know what you like, there’s no way I’ll know.”

He studies you for a second, seeming to think. “Well…why don’t you tell me what you like? Maybe I’ll get some ideas.”

You hesitate. What do you like? “Uh…okay. I mean, I like pretty much everything, I guess.”

“Yeah? Like what? Name something.”

Well…shit. “Um…I don’t know. Have you ever heard of…exhibitionism?”

He runs his tongue over his teeth in thought, brows lifting up with intrigue. “I’m 27, I’m not dead.”

“Hilarious.”

“Why? S’that something you’re into?”

You swallow but force a relaxed and nonchalant demeanor. “Kind of, yeah. Fun to play with what’s mine when anybody could see.”

He almost seems impressed, leaning back as he looks at you. Really looks at you. “You don’t fucking say.”

“Okay, don’t make it a whole thing,” you whisper urgently, already swatting at him in warning. “It was just an idea. We can always think of something—”

“Show me.”

You pause. “Show you…what?”

He nods his chin at you. “Show me how you’d play with what’s yours when anybody could see.”

Your expression falls. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” He nods. “I’m a vessel. Show me. Teach me.”

And maybe it’s the glass of wine offering you an extra ounce of courage, or maybe it’s the fact that you’ve already done this once before, or maybe it’s the fact that it’s Harry…

But whatever it is, you reach out, and smooth your palm along his upper thigh, just to watch his breath catch. “Are you sure?” you ask softly, careful to keep beneath the suspicion of the group across the table. “Because I need to know if you can…handle it.”

You feel him tense, his fingers flexing across the tablecloth as he regards you. “I’ll handle anything you want me to.”

Your hand drifts a little higher. “And you’ll sit here? And be a good student?”

He shoots you a coy smile. “The best.”

A little higher. “And you know your safe word?”

“‘Stop,’” he answers, teeth tugging on his bottom lip. “Don’t think I’ll need it, though.”

“You might.”

“Won’t.”

“Maybe.”

“No fucking way.”

You slow to a stop, centimeters away from the rather obvious dip in his pants. “Don’t say that. Just use it. If you need to.”

His expression softens. “I know, Bee. I will. Promise.”

“Good.” So, with that and a deep breath, you take the plunge, ghosting your touch over his covered cock.

And it’s different this time because it’s you touching him. It’s his body in your hands and this far exceeds your usual high-five.

You aren’t sure what you expected. You kind of already know he’s big from the few times you guys have gone swimming together. And he’s accidently brushed up against you before when scooting past you and worn sweatpants that did absolutely nothing to help him hide an erection (another reason why you’re never watching a Margot Robbie movie with him again).

But feeling it now…knowing exactly what this man is in possession of…feels forbidden.

You keep your expression stoic, refusing to give him the satisfaction of your awe as you watch the way his lashes flutter.

“Easy,” you warn in a delicate whisper. “Rule number one…make a sound and I stop.”

His teeth grit as he leans back against his seat. “Fine.”

“Good.” You bring your fingers together until you can cup your palm around him, adding just the slightest amount of pressure before glancing back at your friends.

They’re laughing about something, you don’t really know what, but you smile and nod along as if absolutely enthralled.

And as the seconds pass, you feel Harry grow harder in your hand. Needier. He shifts at least three times a minute, clearly struggling to keep from bucking up into your touch.

You’re being as easy on him as you can. A few squeezes, a bit of palming, and some light brushing just to tease him.

He’s gripping onto the edge of the table so tight, you’re surprised it’s not shaking. But he’s restraining himself, as best he can, and you feel oddly…proud.

You maneuver a little closer, head dipping until your lips are close to his ear. To anyone else, it might look like you're merely trying to be heard over the loud music.

But Harry knows better.

"This...is where the fun is," you tell him. "Knowing it would be so easy to have you coming in your pants. Right here, right now. In front of everybody."

You add a bit more pressure and watch the way the veins in his arms begin to strain against his skin. The way the muscles in his jaw constrict and the way his Adam's apple bobs when he swallows.

“You feel it, don’t you?” you murmur as his fingers begin to scratch down the table, desperate to grab onto something. “Feel what it does to you…to be played with. Just like this…exactly like you wanted.”

He sucks in a quiet gasp for air as his head threatens to drop back, little curls falling across his forehead.

He’s not stopping you. And you know he won’t. He’ll happily let himself go right into his trousers, in front of the whole goddamn resturant. Right here, right now.

But that wasn’t apart of the lesson.

So, just when you can feel his resolve begin to crumble…you stop.

He exhales a long, deep breath, slumping into the chair as if completely drained of all energy, and you almost want to laugh.

“So…what did you learn?” you ask softly as you lean back in.

“That Eric’s a fucking ass,” he replies instantly, shooting you a lazy grin. “And that we’re definitely not kids in a tree house anymore.”

“No kidding,” you agree. “Anything else?”

He mulls this over, eyeing you closely. “That I think I’m more of a…hands-on learner.”

Your brow raises. “What does that mean?”

His answer comes in the form of his touch, hand outstretching for your leg, long fingers brushing across the hem of your dress. “It means…I need to see for myself.”

He pauses down by your knee in order to allow you the time to understand and either accept him or reject him.

But you simply blink, focus falling from his face down to your lap. “Ah…I suppose that makes sense.”

His lips roll into his mouth. “Mhm…what do you say, Teach?”

Your nose scrunches at the nickname but you smile. “I say practice makes perfect.”

And he wastes no more time in slipping beneath the fabric to travel up your thigh and toward your hips.

Now, you’re the one forced into restraint, a gasp immediately hitching in your throat as he brushes his thumb down the front of your underwear.

It instantly brings you back to the last time, and his touch, while familiar and oddly reassuring, makes your head spin.

You slowly look over at him, taking note of the way he’s so goddamn proud of your reaction, and the way he returns his attention to your friends.

Exactly like you had.

Because this is the lesson after all. The concept of teasing and torture and watching somebody come undone so easily.

The idea of getting caught.

You could tell from the moment you reached for him that this was something he was into. But even when he was trying not to thrust up into your hand, it was obvious that his interest lied with you and your pleasure.

With the idea of putting you under this sort of duress.

He really is a sadist.

Good to know.

"How's this for practice?" you hear him murmur as you become vaguely aware of the way he's scooted his chair closer to you.

You open your mouth, lips parted and ready to respond, but you can feel the beginning of a whimper threatening its escape.

So you swallow—thickly—and nod your head once.

"Good, then?" he asks, and you have to fight the urge to cross your legs over his hand. "Bee...I need you to speak."

But you can't fucking speak. The pressure of his touch has increased, and it feels so...so fucking good. "It's....yeah. Fine. It's fi—"

Suddenly, you gasp, and thankfully, it's lost beneath the jazz music still loudly playing through the restaurant.

But it's not lost on Harry, and you watch his smug smile expand as his teasing begins to slow. "Uh-uh," he tuts softly. "You know the rules. Make a sound...and I stop."

You exhale the singular word, "Har," and he hums.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that. What?"

You have to physically fight the urge to whimper with desperation. Truth be told, he’s hardly even doing anything, but his hands…

You’d fucked up by sneaking a glance down at the tattooed skin disappearing beneath your dress. Because it’s sinful to feel the cold, metal of his rings brush against your warm thighs. Sinful to know he’s pressing his thumb into you just to feel the way you’ve begun to soak the material he’s so effortlessly playing with.

He…is sinful.

And then suddenly…his touch disappears. Retreats from between your legs as your mouth just about drops open.

And you could cry at the loss of contact because it felt so safe and so exciting. Teasing or not, it was so fucking good, and you hate him for making you go without.

But then…you learn why.

His fingers move to wrap around the edge of your seat, getting a good grip on it…before he yanks.

Your chair is forced closer to his, squeaking against the floor as he begins to smirk victoriously.

“There,” he declares quietly before his hand is returning to your lap. “Much better, don’t you think?”

And it is better because now he’s so much closer, and has so much more room, and you’re so fucking close to just throwing in the towel and hurling yourself at him. Friends be damned.

“Speak, Bee,” he repriminds after a minute of your silence, and instantly, you begin to squirm.

“Har,” you whisper, both begging him for his mercy and for his cruelty.

“What?” he replies evenly. “What do you need, hm?”

You, you think. “Can’t…s’just…”

“Come on,” he tsks. “Think you can do better than that, can’t you?”

But you can’t.

“Please,” you try again, a faint request.

“Please…what?”

“Har…”

“Uh-uh. Tell me. What?”

Again, you swallow, willing yourself to stay silent. "Har—”

“No.”

“Harry—"

"...Harry?"

This time, it's Charlie calling his name, and immediately, you go deathly still as you turn back toward your friends.

However, Harry is calm as he raises a brow. "Yeah?"

For a moment, the three across from you simply stare, rather curiously before Charlie says, "Oh, I was just asking how Tina is?"

You could almost moan with relief.

“She’s good, yeah,” Harry answers cooly, pointer finger hooking around the edge of the material on your thighs to pull it aside. “Yeah, real good. Been working a lot, so I haven’t seen her much.”

“Aw, that’s too bad,” Jackie offers with a pout. “Is she nice? Will we like her?”

Harry laughs, head shaking with amusement as if he’s not dragging his thumb down your clit while you swallow a rather desperate whine. “She’s nice. I don’t know if we’ll ever make it that far, though.”

Caleb’s head tilts. “What do you mean?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. We’ve hung out, like…twice. S’not really that serious yet.”

And you almost snort, because to you…he seemed pretty serious about her.

But you suppose eating pussy doesn’t exactly require an engagement ring, and maybe he just wants a fuck buddy.

“Well…she still needs to pass the approval test,” Jackie argues with a wink. “And the fact that she strung you along for two months is not doing her any favors.”

“She was just making him work for it,” Charlie teases. “And he needs to be humbled, so I say good for her.”

“Please. Look at him,” she snorts. “He’s too pretty to be this dumb. Okay, he can do better than Tammy—”

“Tina,” Harry corrects before slowly easing the tip of his finger in, and your entire body goes rigid.

“—yeah, whatever. The point is…you can do better,” Jackie finishes proudly, shooting a pointed look toward Charlie.

Harry begins to smirk, slowly stealing a glance at you. “Yeah. Maybe we can all do better.”

Now curious, Caleb nods at you, and you do your best to control your reactions as he says, “Yeah, speaking of which…have you heard from…him?”

You shake your head quickly, mentally damning Harry to hell as he pushes in a bit further just to make it harder for you to reply. “Uh…no. Nope. Not since that night.”

“I’ll kill him,” Jackie tells you. “No, really. I will. I’ll hit him with my car and drag his dead body out to the woods, and watch the bears eat him.”

You breathe out a laugh, but it’s outrageously forced, and Harry can tell. “It’s…it’s fine. He’s…you know, we all move on. I’m fine.”

“Sure,” Harry says with a wicked gleam in his eye. “Yeah, you seem fine.”

“Oh, I am,” you murmur through a tight-lipped smile. “Fucking fantastic.”

“Good,” he hums before you can feel him curl upward. “Hope it stays that way.”

Your hands drop to the chair beneath you, and you grip onto the sides for dear life in an attempt to keep from reeling. “Thanks for your…concern.”

“Anytime,” he beams as you feel him slip out. “Just want you to…do and feel the best that you can.”

The wet pad of his finger then returns to your clit as he presses into it just to push it in a teasing circle.

Your eyes just about roll back as you quickly turn your face toward your shoulder and fake a cough. “Fuck…sorry,” you apologize hoarsely as your friends look on.

“Are you all right?” Jackie asks softly. “Sorry, we shouldn’t have brought him up. We can change the subject.”

“No, it’s…it’s fine,” you sigh, hoping to sound casual, despite the fact that you’re teetering on the edge of a wail. “Really, he’s just…a guy. Just some…stupid…sadistic…evil fucking…guy.”

And while the group across the table snorts their agreement, you see that Harry knows that jab was aimed directly at him.

He winks.

“I, uh…I need to go to the bathroom,” you suddenly declare, grabbing onto his wrist to forcefully shove it away before standing to your feet. “Be right back.”

“Feeling all right?” Harry asks innocently as he watches you push your chair in.

“Just delightful,” you reply before brushing your hands down the front of your dress. “Seriously, keep eating. I won’t be long.”

You leave the table before Harry can make another quippy remark, quickly making your way for the extravagant restroom in the back of the restaurant.

Honestly, you thought you had a little more self-control. You thought it wouldn’t be so easy to get you so on edge, and yet here Harry is, making you clench so hard in your chair, you nearly burst a blood vessel.

You lock the door behind you and make a beeline for the sink. You flip on the cool water and gently trail it down your arms and chest to cool yourself down as you will the ache between your legs to subside.

It’ll be easy to take care of once you get home, but you’re rather impressed with Harry’s commitment to…education.

And something about looking your friends in the eye as he played with your cunt like a toy was oddly invigorating.

Far more invigorating than it ever had been with…Eric.

You’ve no sooner smirked at this thought when your phone begins to buzz from its place on the counter.

Glancing down, you aren’t surprised to see a text from Harry, but it does make you laugh.

How’s it going?

Good. Just getting myself off before I come back, you answer.

Yeah? Texting me while you touch yourself? Hot.

Well, it’s not the first time.

A good minute passes before he responds, and you can easily imagine the way his eyes went wide.

Seriously?

Seriously. Why, is that weird?

Are you fucking kidding? No, it’s…I mean, it’s hot. Very, very hot.

Your brow raises. Yeah?

Kind of rude you never told me, though. Clearly I would have been of great help.

In my defense, I was a little…busy. It’s already hard enough to type with one hand.

And even if you aren’t exactly touching yourself right now…you aren’t lying about having done it before. Not on purpose, of course. He just happened to text you right in the middle of your alone time and needed an answer ASAP.

So…you’d answered.

Yeah? Do you need an extra hand? he replies next, and you chuckle under your breath as you lean against the sink.

Why, do you know someone?

Funny.

Thank you, I thought so.

Is that a yes, then?

I think I’m managing just fine.

Yeah? So you’re pinching your clit nice and tight for me?

You feel your breath hitch. This certainly isn’t helping. Obviously.

And you’re clenching around your fingers for me? How many you using? One? Two? Maybe three? Know you like to feel stretched.

“Fucking hell,” you whisper to yourself as you glance off into the bathroom. He’s trying to kill you.

Can’t really clench around anything when I have to keep answering these texts. Go eat your food and leave me to it.

And what kind of student would I be if I did that?

An obedient one.

And does that sound like me?

“Nope,” you respond aloud, but type, You have been so far.

Think I’d be more obedient if I finished what I started.

I mean…maybe if you knew how.

You wait to watch the bubbles roll across your screen, but when they don’t come, your heart sinks.

And then…there’s a knock.

A rather fervent and determined knock that makes you jump as you look toward the door.

“Bee…let me in.”

Shit. “I…uh, I’m a little busy.”

“I know,” comes the deep, sultry reply. “So, let me in.”

“Har—”

“Open the goddamn door, Bee, before I break it down.”

Clearing your throat, you put your phone aside and cautiously tiptoe toward the door.

After sliding the lock over, you pull it back just a hair, and peek through the crack. “Uh, hi. Sorry, this bathroom is a little occupied at the moment—”

His large hand comes out to press against the wood as he forces it open and steps inside. “Are you okay?”

You blink at him before scrambling to push it closed and relock it. “Uh…yeah? Why?”

He strides a bit further into the bathroom before turning around to look at you, almost as if suspicious. “Honestly? I kind of thought you came in here to hide from me.”

“What? Why?”

“I don’t know.” His arms cross over his chest. “I know you didn’t actually come in here to fuck yourself, so I thought…maybe you just felt uncomfortable.”

“Oh, yeah? And how do you know I didn’t come in here to do that?” you retort.

He smirks. “’Cause you always use both hands. And if you were texting me…you weren’t fucking yourself.”

“And how do you know I use both hands?”

He shrugs. “You told me once.”

Oh…right. “Well…maybe I was multi-tasking.”

“You weren’t,” he rejects immediately. “No, I think you either came in here to hide from me…or because you were upset about what they said. You know, about…him.”

An invisible fist snaps closed around your heart as you stare at the man across from you. The devious intentions and teasing from before are long gone as the man you’ve known for years, your best friend…stands before you.

The concern is evident on his face as you take a step closer. “Har…honestly, I’m fine. I wasn’t hiding from you, and I really don’t care about Eric. I came in here to keep myself from coming all over your fucking hand.”

The corner of his mouth twitches with the temptation to smile, but his gaze remains skeptical. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” You nod, taking another step. “Come on, I think it’s a little late to start questioning me now, don’t you?”

He sucks on his teeth. “Well…I can never tell with you.”

“I feel like I made my enjoyment quite clear.”

“I thought so, too. Until you made me stop.”

Now, only inches away from him, you come to a halt. “Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly feel like explaining why I moaned to our friends, you know?”

His thumb rubs across the skin of his arm as he peers down at you. “Thought that was the whole point of exhibitionism.”

You shrug, eyes falling across his features. “Yeah…or maybe I just wanted to keep you to myself.”

His brow cocks up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You know…like a secret.”

Instantly, he grins, exhaling a laugh at the reminder of the pact you two made when you were younger. “We are good at secrets.”

“The best,” you agree giddily before the laughter dies out, and something seems to shift within his expression.

“Then I think it’s only fair we finish the lesson,” he says quietly, leaning a bit closer as you begin to still. “After all…I still need to show my work.”

Your lashes flutter, the smell of his cologne beginning to overwhelm you. God, why does he always smell so good? “Guess…guess that’s only fair,” you agree faintly, and he seems pleased.

His head dips, nose brushing yours as he works to catch you off guard. “Then tell me what to do, Bee. And I’ll do it.”

It comes out before you can stop it. “Kiss me.”

He’s surprised by this request, going momentarily quiet but you don’t miss the way his focus falls to your lips, as if pondering.

“Kiss me,” you repeat, fingers itching to latch onto the back of his neck. “And this time…do it right.”

He seems impressed as he fights an arrogant smirk. “Right, huh?”

“Yeah.” You straighten up, bringing your mouths a tad closer, but still without contact. “Know you can. Know you know how to be gentle, don’t you?”

And almost as if in retaliation, his hands find your hips, squeezing rather harshly as he begins to back you up toward the wall.

When you collide with it, he grins. “Dunno about that.”

“Try,” you whisper, hands dancing up his chest. “Trust me, you’ll get a lot more points that way. The right kiss can do everything, and I promise…she’ll love it.”

He considers this for a moment, studying you closely before you feel his palm delicately cup your cheek.

He tilts your head back as he moves in, deliberately slow. “Everything, huh?”

You smile, nodding once. “Yeah,” you breathe. “Everything.”

He kisses you.

Soft, and careful, and sadistically tame. He kisses around your mouth, peppers kisses to your bottom lip, to your cheek, to the line of your jaw.

He keeps his tongue from you, and you almost huff because after everything, you think you at least deserve a taste.

And finally, once you’re moments away from wilting in his hands, he takes that taste for himself.

Your head spins and your mind goes blank and everything makes sense.

Because kissing him is fun, and it makes you want to laugh, and kiss him forever, and never leave this one spot.

And you’re so enchanted by this revelation that you don’t notice his hand traveling between your bodies to return to its home between your thighs.

But he slips underneath your dress without a moment's delay, fingers returning to their work of pulling your panties aside to finish what he started. And when you gasp into the kiss…he swallows the sound with ease.

“Is that right, hm?” he teases as he slides in. “That good?”

Your lashes flutter closed as he presses his forehead to yours, and you don’t offer a response because he already knows.

His precision just about kills you. In, out, in, curl, twist, pinch, pull. You can feel the drip down your thighs, can hear the sounds he’s making, can taste his desperation in each kiss he gives you.

And when you suddenly whine and squirm in his hold, he smiles. “There it is, yeah? Right there…s’what you needed, isn’t it?”

It is. It’s exactly what you’d needed, and he strokes the spot with fervor and just a touch of wonder.

It’s cruel and it’s wonderful and it feels so fucking good, and nothing else makes sense to you except him.

Just him and the way you’re about to come undone by his hand for a second time.

You nuzzle your face into his neck, lazily kissing under his ear, and he seems to sigh with contentment as he braces you both against the wall to continue.

“Come on, Bee…know it’s gotta hurt, doesn’t it?” he coos, but his voice is thick. “Know it hurts, so give it to me, yeah? Just give it to me. Let me make it better.”

And it overwhelms you, consumes you, controls you. His smell, his touch, his words. The past, the present, him. Just him. Only him. Right now. Everything.

The sound that rips from your throat feels foreign to you. It’s loud and desperate and eager, and he presses his lips to yours to be a part of it.

It goes for what feels like hours, but time doesn’t have a place here. It could have been ten seconds; it could have been ten minutes. You don’t know, you don’t care.

You just…let it.

And you don’t realize the way you’ve slumped into his embrace as he holds you up, keeps you steady.

You don’t realize he’s speaking to you, murmuring words of encouragement with just a hint of teasing.

You don’t realize he’s refusing to let go.

But once you do, you realize something else, too:

You don’t want him to let go.

"Think we might have a problem," he whispers after a moment, lips following the curve of your shoulder as he offers a few parting kisses.

Your head falls back against the wall and you take a few deep breaths. "Yeah? And what's that?"

"Well...you kind of fucked up," he begins as he moves to the other side of your neck, sucking on the vein just below your ear. "You gave me a taste, showed me what I've been missing."

You can feel yourself smile through the haze as his hands continue to grope at your waist.

"I mean, just knowing..." he continues, nosing under your jaw, "...you've been keeping so much knowledge from me...this whole time."

Your laugh is airy as you reach up to comb through his curls. "Is that right?"

He hums as he nods, the palm of his hand slowly smoothing up your stomach, pushing the hem of your dress along with it. "And now I don't know if I can go without. Feel so fucking insatiable...just thinking about what else you might be hiding from me."

With this, his fingers delicately ghost under the curve of your tit, forcing you to arch into his touch as he smirks.

"And what is it...you want to know?" you manage to reply, voice soft and nearly inaudible.

He pulls back and meets your eye.

"Everything."

Shit.

"Everything?" you murmur, subtly tugging him closer.

"Everything," he repeats. "Anything. All of it. You. Me. Us. Every fucking second, every fucking way."

You know what he's proposing. Know exactly what this means, but you don't know if a friendship would survive.

And you don't know which is more important.

"So...what do you expect me to do?" you ask breathlessly, still squirming beneath his hold.

He smiles. "I expect you...to show me."

"Show you," you repeat, as if in a trance.

"Show me," he whispers, moving back in to lick at your bottom lip. "Teach me. How to be better. How to be right. How take care of you. Wanna give you everything you need."

"Everything," you breathe.

"Everything." His other hand gently comes up to cradle the back of your neck. "Whatever you want, whatever you need. Tell me and I'll give it to you. Promise."

But what do you need?

"Are you sure?" you ask, softly pushing on his chest to garner his attention. "It's not like teaching you to play pool, Har. Exploring kinks is...delicate. Sacred. It's not a game."

"I know," he replies, sobering ever-so-slightly. "That's why it can't be anybody else. It has to be you."

It has to be you.

"Why?" you challenge.

He simply offers you a knowing look. "Why wouldn't it be?"

You chew on the inside of your cheek, looking for a reason to say no. Looking for the strength to know better.

But maybe you don't know better.

Maybe you just know him.

"Teach me," he says again, thumb stroking your jaw as those familiar eyes bleed right through to your heart. "Make me better."

Better.

Everything.

Nothing else makes sense. Nothing else feels right.

Just him.

"Okay," you agree quietly, and his entire face lights up. "For science."

"For science," he repeats, dipping down to press his lips to your cheek in thanks. "But only if you're sure. I'd never want you to agree just because of me. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know."

He leans back. Frowns. He's unconvinced. "I mean it, Bee. I'm not asking just because I can. I’m asking because…it feels like something we both want. But if it's not—"

You kiss him again, stealing the rest of his argument. "I know how to say no to you, Harry. Think you should know that by now."

He smiles against your mouth. "Guess so."

For the next minute or so, you don't speak. He simply takes hold of your face with both hands and paints his gratitude across your tongue.

"So...where do you wanna start?" you ask when he finally allows you a second of reprieve.

"You tell me," he reminds you, and you feel yourself smirk.

"All right," you agree before slipping your fingers through the loops on his pants.

His eyes go wide.

Then, you tug.

"Let's start...with everything."

You bet your ass there’s gonna be a part 3, because now that they’ve opened the door…there’s no closing it 😗 and Harry’s got a long list of new kinks to discover! And I’m strangely excited about it?? This is concerning?? Pray for me???

Next Part:

~ Hurt Me* (Pt. 3)

Previous Part:

~ Teach Me* (Pt. 1)

~ Full Teach Me Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Tags:

@tiaamberxx @harrystylesfan2686

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obsessed-with-wwe-women · 1 month

Text

Champions Rules

R. Ripley x fem!reader

cw: smut, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, clit play, oral (r receiving), fingering, degradation + praise, domme!rhea, mami/mommy kink, mentions of alcohol

lowercase intended / not proofread, i’m a little rusty bare with me

she did it.

i mean, you knew she would but that didn’t make you any less proud. you smiled as you stared at the screen in front of you, as rhea held her title high up in the air on the biggest stage of them all.

this was a huge night for her. she opened up night one of wrestlmania with one of the best, she had her favorite band sing her out, and she won.

the look of pure happiness on her face was enough to tear up, especially when you saw her start to herself before she covered it up. you were so proud of her, she worked so hard to get here. she fucking deserved this.

she eventually made her way backstage, and when she did you ran to her, jumping in her arms and planting kisses all over her face. rhea’s arms wrapped around you with a smile as she spun you around.

“you did it!” you squealed excitedly, smiling down at the australian.

“did you doubt me?” she joked. not funny. “never in a million years.” you grinned as you placed a soft kiss on her lips. “i’m so proud of you.” you whispered against her lips before pulling away.

rhea’s eyes beamed at you as she gave you a grateful smile, giving you one more kiss before putting you down.

the rest of the night was crazy. damian had the great idea of going to the nearest club for a celebration. now, you were about 3 drinks deep as you dragged your unwilling girlfriend to the dance floor. rhea had only had one, but it was strong.

“you know i don’t dance, y/n.” she slurred slightly. you gave her a small pout, and she rolled her eyes before her hands found your hips, swaying to the beat with you. you grinned, wrapping your arms over her shoulders as you got on your tiptoes to kiss her. rhea kissed back, squeezing your hips in her hands.

she danced with you for a few minutes, but when you turned to grind your ass against her front she quickly turned you around.

“i want you.” she whispered. “not.” kiss. “here.” kiss. you replied, kissing her between each word. rhea’s hands squeezed again as her head ducked into the crook of your neck.

“i’ll take you wherever i please, and you know it.” she husked by your ear, her voice deep and her accent thick. you whined softly, tugging gently at her hair. “can’t wait to do whatever i want with you, pretty girl. my big night, you know? champions rules.” her words shot a wave a heat to your core. “take me home, rhe.” you whispered before placing a kiss to her cheek.

“god, you’re so fucking beautiful.” rhea’s breath was hot against your ear as she had you pressed against the door of your hotel. “you are.” was all you could reply, her teeth gently biting down on the skin of your neck. “yeah? you think so?” she teased as her knee spread your thighs, pushing your dress up over your hips.

“i bet if i stuck my hand inside of these cute little panties you’re wearing right now,” she snapped the band of the purple lacy material you wore just for her. “i’d find you soaked, wouldn’t i?” rhea smirked as your cheeks grew pink. “huh? answer me, baby.”

rhea’s left hand gripped your chin, making you look up at her. it was enough of a distraction for you to not notice where her right hand was heading.

“ye- fuck!” you cried out as rhea’s finger pressed harshly against your throbbing clit. “sorry, what were you saying?” she teased once more.

“you can be a real bitch sometimes.” you got out between choked moans. “oh? yeah?” rhea’s tone was mocking as she pressed harder. “you wanna say that again, slut?” rhea growled, pinching your clit between her fingers. “fuck! i-i’m sorry, mommy.” you whimpered, a mix of pleasure and pain shooting through your body.

“awh, poor baby. you’re sorry?” she cooed, using her free hand to pet your hair. you looked up at her with hooded, teary eyes. “my pretty girl.” she smiled, kissing the corner of your mouth softly before slipping two of her fingers inside of you.

“always so tight for me.” rhea groaned, using her thumb to play with your clit while her fingers pumped into you slowly. your cunt fluttered against her fingers when she added more pressure to your bud, and she giggled softly as she noticed. “yeah? you like that?” she asked, doing it again.

you could only nod quickly against the door as you felt your orgasm approaching. “i’m close, mommy.” you breathe out, hands gripping at her wrist. rhea doesn’t say anything, she just smirks and leans in, places a rough kiss to your lips.

she moaned into your mouth when you tightened around her, pulling her deeper into your dripping cunt. “come on baby, you can do it.” she whispered softly as she peppered kisses over your face. “be a good girl and cum on mommy’s fingers.”

that did it. within seconds after her request your mouth fell open with a cry of her name, and your thighs squeezing around her hand. rhea talked you through it, and once you calmed down she pulled her fingers out of you. you whined softly at the emptiness, but almost immediately you were cut off by a gasp as rhea brought her fingers into her mouth to taste you.

“i want the real thing now.” she said, and before you could even comprehend her words she picked you up and walked you to the bed. she gently placed you down, stripping your dress off of you. rhea’s breath caught in her throat as she saw the matching bra she had on, but what caught her eye was the silver ‘R’ in the middle. you smiled sweetly at her. “like it?” you asked hopefully.

“i love it, baby. my letter looks good on you.” she smirked before leaning to hover over you. “but i think you’d look better with it off.” she husked before reaching behind you to unclasp your bra, impressively with one hand. the moment the material was away, rhea’s lips were wrapped around your nipple.

“shit, rhe.” you sighed, tossing your head back. she hummed against you, switching to show the other one some love before slipping between your thighs. you were dripping at this point.

“all for me.” rhea moaned lowly as she licked through you. your back arched and your hips bucked against her with a cry. rhea’s arms held your hips down as she sucked your sensitive clit into her mouth. you could barely hold the noises you were making, even with a hand slapped over your mouth. you could never last long with her like this, especially if she’s already made you cum before.

“mommy!” you whimpered as your hands tugged at her hair, pulling her closer. rhea moaned against you once more as the soft pain shot down her spine from her head. her tongue piercing rubbed against you in all the right ways, and within seconds she had you shaking. “i’m gonna cum, mami.” you got out the best you could between choked moans.

all she did was nod, and it was clear she wasn’t pulling away until she was finished. it was only a couple minutes until your back arched off of the bed once more and you spilled into her mouth. rhea’s licks slowed down as she took her time to clean you up, not wasting anything.

“could be here all day, you know?” rhea said as she kissed your thigh. your head felt fuzzy and the only things leaving your mouth were quiet whines. “already, baby? i’m not even getting started.” rhea playfully teased as she sat up, gently running her finger through your slit once more. she rubbed slow, soft circles as she waited for you to say something.

“i’m okay, mami. m’just sensitive.” you mumbled, squirming as she sped up a little.

“well that’s good, just you wait, sweetheart. mami wants you to wear her title while she fucks you.” she smirked before getting off the bed and walking over to her bag.

#wwe rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley imagine #rhea ripley smut #rhea ripley x reader #wwe x reader #wwe smut

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empress-simps · 2 months

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A Gryffindor's Grief

Pairing: James Potter x Fem! Slytherin! Reader

CW: Reader's family and language

Genre: Angst

Masterlist

Note: My first ever marauders fic! Kinda nervous to post this ngl… I'm still thinking if I should make a second part. I want to hear what you guys think about this! Requests are open! Photos used are from Pinterest! Credits to the owner!

It was forbidden love, really.

Those little moments of not-so-accidental touches, stealing glances, and discreet smiles sent each other's way were your means of communicating with each other.

James Fleamont Potter, a Gryffindor boy that was absolutely smitten with You; Slytherin's Princess.

An odd combination that would only lead to chaos.

Being one of the sacred twenty-eight wizarding families meant that you command power and respect from everyone you meet— intentionally or unintentionally. The idea about blood purity, power, and influence was already in your mind as soon as you were able to grasp things your toddler brain could handle.

You were taught to only mingle with pure-blood families, people who could be useful and loyal to you, and those with power, influence, and wealth. Your family’s distaste for muggles and muggleborns were also ingrained into your mind, as if they programmed you to believe what they believed in. It wasn’t that hard, after all you were surrounded by rich witches and wizards who are blood supremacists.

For someone who grew up with those ideals and values, you thought it was right. Although, your belief came tumbling down the longer you spend time at Hogwarts and got to know James Potter and the rest of the Marauders.

James, he made you feel alive.

It felt as if he was the breath of fresh air that you never knew you needed. Away from that suffocating Malfoy Manor, the scrutinizing gazes of your family, and away from rich pure blood problems. Being with him felt exhilarating, he was the buzz in your life. James brought so much joy into your dark, lavish, and empty lifestyle.

It was quite funny, picturing him as your knight in shining armor, whisking you away from your pretty, gold cage.

"Malfoy!" Evan Rosier, a pure-blooded Slytherin raised his hand in your direction, motioning you to come over and sit beside him during breakfast in the great hall. Cold eyes like Lucius Malfoy's travelled in his direction, a questioning brow raised.

"Rosier, you are being too loud." She commented, walking, and sitting next to him before greeting the person beside him, Regulus Black.

"Good morning, Regulus."

"Good morning, Y/n."

Barty Crouch Jr. looked up from his meal and snickered at the both of you. "Good morning, Mum and Dad." He teased, greeting you both as Evan laughed along with the other Slytherins near them. Heck even Severus has a small smirk planted on his face. "If you wish to make your family line extinct, then please feel free to continue with your remarks, Crouch."

He smirked, putting his hands up in mock surrender "Just kidding, Y/n. Geez. Rough summer, I suppose?"

You felt your lips press into a thin line, an obvious answer to the question; It was horrendous.

Evan’s laughter slowly dies, he shakes his head, “Give her a break mate, she just got the biggest news of her life during summer. Isn’t that right Y/n-“

“Shut your mouth Rosier if you do not want to be hexed into next month.” Her empty threat really doesn’t do damage to Evan, he just shrugged, taking it as a warning that you’re not in the mood for jokes.

Your father, Abraxas Malfoy and older brother, Lucius Malfoy made a huge decision for your future. Hearing rumors here and there about their Slytherin Princess being romantically involved with a blood traitor in Gryffindor enraged your father, Abraxas. That will certainly not do, they will not sit idly and watch as the Malfoy name be... tainted with those rumors.

You remember how you felt dread entering your system, fighting the urge to run and throw up as you mustered up a façade, “Those are just baseless rumors, a plot to ruin my image in school." You held your head high, praying they do not see the truth.

Abraxas stared at you, his daughter, with a monotone expression. "Your brother and I do not care whether those ridiculous rumors are true or not." Lucius nods, agreeing. What a lie. You know your family well enough to not believe what comes out of their mouths in situations like this.

"We do not care if you had relations with the boy, even though it is rumored that he is a blood traitor, you knew well enough not to fool around with mudbloods. Well done, Y/n. Perhaps you could change his views, get him to join our cause.” Lucius looked at you. You could press your lips into a thin line, trying to find an answer.

“That tactless boy's role is to only be a bed warmer for you, remember that Y/n." Your father stood from the chair he sat in the drawing room. Slowly walking towards you. “Although, I suppose it ends now. I heard Lady Walburga Black is looking for a potential bride to their heir, Regulus Black.”

After a week, it was official; You are to be wedded to Regulus Black, your friend, Sirius’ brother.

You could not do anything about the arrangement, what fight would you have put up? A young girl like you, who does not have any power, influence, and wealth could only suck it up and accept.

How you wish it was James you were betrothed to.

“James, you came.” You breathed out, seeing him take off the invisibility cloak. The moonlight in the astronomy tower complimented his features, he offered a small smile sitting beside you.

The stakes were high, you were sure underlings of your brother (and possibly father) in the school have their eyes trained to you as you enter another year in Hogwarts. You would need to find new ways to meet up with your lover. Regulus’ eyes discreetly looked towards James, who is undeniably looking at you.

“Wouldn’t want for my girl to be alone, you know?”

He joked, intertwining his finger with you, a second nature to the both of you. Squeezing his hand, you softly looked at him. “I missed you, pothead.” He leaned towards your face, kissing you on the forehead. One of the things he does that never fails to make you feel flustered. “I missed you too, love.” You rolled her eyes, slightly shoving him playfully, “Stop being sappy, Pothead.”

“You secretly like it, love. You can’t lie to me.” He grinned, although the last sentence made you tense up. James shot you a concerned look, noticing your body language. “Something wrong, love?” You were torn, deciding on whether you tell him about the engagement rather than keeping quiet and leaving him in the dark about your current situation.

“I got engaged.” Before you could even stop yourself, the words flew out of your mouth. Shit. It wasn’t how she planned to tell him. The light atmosphere suddenly became dark and heavy. You can feel James turn rigid, freezing up as he muttered. “So, it was true, huh?” He scoffed bitterly, hurt overtaking his features. “James…” You gently called, carefully placing a hand on his shoulder. He flinched, turning his body away from you.

She tried to ignore the hurt she felt, pushing it down as she understood why James was acting this way. “Sirius told me.” He choked out, still not looking at you. James really does know you well, answering the question you haven’t even voiced out yet. The slight tremble in his voice made your heart crack. You bit your lip, of course Sirius found out; he was still a Black after all.

“I love you, James. I really do.”

You spoke to him, you raised your hand, about to put a hand on his back that was still facing you but deciding against it before it touched him. Your hands faltering before dropping down to your sides. He shakes his head violently, his curly locks getting messier than they already were.

“Don’t… Don’t say it like that, love.” He pleaded, slowly turning to face you again, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Don’t say it like you’re about to leave me. This. Us.” He croaked; you felt his large hands placed on top of yours. He brought it up to his lips, kissing the knuckles.

“James…” You managed to utter out, voice getting caught at the throat.

James knew he was acting like a child, but damn- he never thought it could hurt this much. He pictured both of you marrying each other, living in a large house with a big backyard because he insisted it will be great for when you have kids. Merlin, he even imagined about 3 or 4 kids looking like the perfect mix of you both, running out and about with their names already carefully thought out.

out. He daydreamed that the both of you grow old, watching you tell stories to your grandkids about their grandfather’s mischief during your years at Hogwarts.

“I have to, James.” She chokes out, tears spilling onto her cheeks. Those four little words made James’ little bubble of happiness burst with just a bat of an eye.

“Don’t… don’t do this to me, love.” He pleaded; he even went down onto his knees as he saw you standing up from your place beside him. Poor James, luckily it was only you, the moon, and the walls of the Astronomy Tower watched him become a wreck.

“I love you, please remember that you will always have my heart, James. I wish you find happiness.” The part ‘without me’ was unsaid but was heard. It took a lot of courage, strength, and self-control not to fall apart. Deep down, you wanted James to say the same to you, proclaiming his love again for the last time you’ll be together.

“I love you Y/n, so much. No one will ever make me feel the way you did. I’ll find a way; a way for us to be happy together. I swear on my life.” He promised, looking at you straight in the eye. You could only close your eyes before smiling at him, trying to blink the tears away. Stars, you hoped James really does find a way.

“Goodbye, Potter.” She turns, walking away.

Maybe Slytherins and Gryffindors really aren’t meant to be together.

#james potter x reader #james potter x you #marauders fanfiction #slytherin reader #james potter #marauders fic #marauders era #marauders #sirius black #regulus black #remus lupin #harry poter

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p0ssywhippedcream · 1 year

Note

Can u do a Percy Jackson x reader where he’s like trying to impress her by doing something and reader is just like “yeah ok pretty boy keep talkin”

babe idk but this reminds me of that one scene from ATLA where Aang is doing the rock spinny thing in his hands and NOBODY’S impressed. They’re like yeah airbender air bending wow so cool

Percy feels like a magician being pulling out of a rabbits mouth by a hat. He impresses everyone else at camp, everyone, but not you. This is just wrong. He’s cool? He’s a child of the Big Three? He’s cool?

Okay fine, he thinks, I’ll just summon a mini hurricane.

And now half of the dryads at camp are pissed at him for messing up their hair and the lake is in semi-disarray.

You’re standing at the beach, sneakers kissing the water as you watch him attempt to juggle balls of seaweed and fail miserably. He’s got that cute charming smile on his face as usual and he totally thinks you’re into him until you shake your head and turn around.

He speeds towards you on his personal storm of H2O, plants and confusion.

“Y/n!”

“Percy.” You turn back towards him and shove a lock of hair out of you face.

Now, he doesn’t know what to say. He’s exhausted his vocabulary already. You save him the trouble.

“Need something?”

“What’s your issue?” Wow, great going Percy. Really awesome of you to start that way.

“I’m kind of hungry but otherwise, I don’t have any.”

“Well then why are you… why are you so-”

“So unimpressed with your circus act? Because, Percy, I don’t care.”

His heart dropped. His hurricane slowed and quieted down. He wanted to say he didn’t care either but you continued.

“I don’t care about seaweed juggling or completely-water squirt guns or manatee love triangles,” He was going to say that it was actually a love square but you cut him off, again. You were pretty good at that. “That’s superficial. And it’s not you. You, Perce, are more than water tricks and badly timed jokes. I’m not impressed with those things because I don’t care to know what makes other people laugh, I care to know what makes you happy.”

Percy’s heart regained its footing and found itself in his chest again, a little bit higher now but maybe that was from his puffed-out chest. At some point in your speech, you hands had landed on his cheeks. You pulled him out of the water and the hurricane died instantly, washing away without a trace.

He stood next to you on the beach, speechless.

You nudged his mouth close with an index finger on his chin. “You don’t have to say anything witty. I’m just happy you heard me.”

You almost closed his mouth another time as it hung open before it started speaking. “Yeah, me too.”

There was a pause, his hand found your nape.

“I like you.” He confessed.

“I know,” You agreed, “I like you too.”

He kissed you softly, you tasted like marshmallows and juice.

“So I guess this means I can tell the sea lions we don’t need to hear their cover of ‘The Lion Sleeps Tonight’?”

You laughed and it made his eyes crinkle. Maybe he couldn’t impress you, but at least he could make you smile.

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charlessainzz · 2 months

Note

Hello!! I want to ask for a fluff carlos fic with reader who has an acute resting b face to the point people think she hates dating him, while the truth is that she's a pretty chill and sweet person as long as she with someone she closed with.

That's it i guess, thank you and have a great day love ❤

thank you for requesting this!!! it’s such a cute idea. hopefully it’s somewhat okay hehe

RBF

Slamming your phone down on the counter caused your wine glass to go tumbling.

“Well shit!” you shouted as you stared at the pool of red. You had had enough already. You were not about to cry over spilled wine too.

Your friend had sent you another Instagram post from the F1 drama blogs about your “Resting Bitch Face”. After every race or moment you are seen with your boyfriend, another post is made about your “RBF”. It was like they were obsessed with talking about it!

Your boyfriend, Carlos, walks into the kitchen. “Y/n, what’s wrong? Why is there wine everywhere?”, he asked with concern.

Letting out a huff, you pointed to your phone. “They won’t stop picking at me! They keep calling me miserable and a bitch!” you say raising your voice.

Carlos walks behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. “Let me see”, he whispers into your shoulder. You hand him the phone and click on the post. It’s a picture of you and him in the paddock having breakfast. Of course the focus isn’t you two holding hands in the picture. The focus is your face. Unfortunately you suffered from chronic resting bitch face. You couldn’t help it! You just always had a serious face, especially when listening to others or when concentrating.

“They all think I hate you…”, you squeaked. Tears beginning to appear in your waterline. Carlos immediately took notice.

He clicks your phone off and sets it aside. Turning you around to face him, he places your face in his hands. “I like your serious face.”, he jokes giving you a kiss. “I like all your faces…” he says again.

You feel your cheeks blush and try to squirm out of his embrace. “Carlos I’m serious! The world thinks I hate you, it’s only a matter of time before you think the same!” you groan.

“Hey hey. Don’t say that. I could never think that y/n”, he says with conviction. “Who cares what they say online. They don’t know the real you”.

You give him a pouty face.

“I like that face too”, he says with a smirk.

You burst into a fit of giggles as you fall back into his arms again.

“Oh yeah that’s my favorite face of yours”, he admits. You look up at him and place a kiss on his lips.

Nuzzling your face into his neck you say, “You have to start warning me when I’ve been showing my RBF for too long”, you muffled out.

He hums in response as he runs his hands up and down your back to soothe you.

“Carlos I mean it”, you stomp.

“Okay. Okay. I will warn you if you’ve had it for more than 10 minutes”, he says rolling his eyes.

“No, for more than 5 minutes”, you plead. He laughs and just nods his head in agreement. In his head he’s thinking of how he wished to world could see you through his eyes. How kind and relaxed you truly were. Even though you had a chronic RBF, he knew that you were the sweetest person in his life. Especially with him.

“I have an idea….”, he says with a devious tone. Carlos picks up his phone and holds the camera in front of your faces.

“Let’s show them our RBFs together”, he says. Carlos snaps the picture of you two staring into the camera.

Having a look, you let out a laugh. “We look hot”, you say. “What are you going to caption it?” you ask.

You see Carlos’s eyes go wide as he thinks. Then it’s like a lightbulb went off and he starts tapping away at the keyboard.

“Couples who RBF together, stay together”, he says proudly. You scrunch your nose at his cheesiness.

“Hmmm perfect”, you whisper. “It’s definitely true”, you joke.

“Of course it’s true y/n”, he says with his big bambi eyes looking into yours. He leans down and plants a firm kiss against your lips. You let out a breath in relief as you two keep kissing and hands start roaming.

Eventually, you lean back into his arms as you watch the post blow up on Instagram.

Let’s see what the trolls have to say now.

#carlos sainz jr x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #writtenbycharlessainzz #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz fluff #f1 fic #anon request

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essycogany · 2 months

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SonAmy Headcanons

Because why not.

This is how I personally see their relationship. I’ll try to keep it somewhat accurate to how they’d act canonically. I’d say where they are now is great, but I’d like to add a few things. Some of these may or may not be influenced by other amazing creators.

You are free to steal if you want.

Sonic and Amy mostly act like a couple in private areas or when they think no one is paying attention. They might tell a few of their friends, but often try to keep things discreet. Even if their overall relationship isn’t different in a third person’s perspective.

Tails: “You two sure you’re not still friends or are you actually together?”

Sonic And Amy: “Yes!”

Sonic’s the most chill and casual boyfriend and shows a good amount of affection. Amy is an overjoyed and loving girlfriend who shows a huge amount of affection.

Amy does her best to not tell most people about her and Sonic. Making an effort to call him her “best friend.” Sonic doesn’t mind it much, even saying it’s “not a big deal.” Leaving Amy confused.

Sonic tells whoever he feels like telling that Amy’s his girlfriend without thinking and thinks it’s funny when she’s shocked about it.

The hedgehogs are unsure of what normal couple standers are. They usually already know what works for them. Except who they should tell.

Sonic shows affection by kissing Amy on the hand and hugging her. When feeling extra, he carries her and takes her out on a run. Amy shows affection by constant cheek kissing, hugging, and ear rubbing. (which he pretends to not enjoy but does.)

Examples:

These and basically everything that happened between them recently are what I have in mind in terms of physical affection.

Instead of kissing they touch each other’s cheeks.

Sonic (being a casual boyfriend) puts his arm around Amy’s shoulder indistinctively in public.

Both hedgehogs forget how they got together. All they remember is it happening.

They enjoy having tea with Cream in order to hang out more. And to spend time with Cream of course.

Amy instantly starts cooking more food after Sonic finishes eating.

Sonic and Amy love gardening and cooking together after defeating Eggman.

Amy admires Sonic’s knowledge about plants, guitars, and books. Sonic admires Amy’s optimistic side whenever she geeks out about silly stuff.

Their brief arguments stems to worrying about one another or what cake tastes better.

Sonic’s favorite times with Amy are when he teases her and she chases after him.

Amy laughs at Sonic’s jokes. Even when they’re not funny.

They both find bungee-jumping romantic and relaxing.

Amy and Sonic plays with each other’s quills when they’re bored.

The best dates are when they’re on dangerous adventures. Sometimes dates aren’t fun when nothing crazy happens. On those days, they go find trouble to be satisfied. But normal dates can be cool if it means they get to travel together.

Amy mostly sends gifts on holidays and Sonic gives gifts when she doesn’t expect it.

Sonic only dresses up when Amy reminds him. Amy doesn’t mind if he forgets because she ends up buying him outfits. She even makes Sonic a red hoodie and he wears it a lot.

When apart for a long time, they write each other letters.

Sonic randomly comes over Amy’s place at any time of day without warning. She acts as if she doesn’t like it, but really enjoys the company of her boyfriend.

On movie nights, Amy and Sonic always forget how long Sonic stays and ends up sleeping on the couch together with one head on top of the other. The same thing happens when they go outside for a “short run,” and end up sleeping outside.

The blue blur’s way of saying “I love you” back to Amy is by using sign language or saying “right back at ya.” He’ll eventually start saying “I love you,” later on. Which surprises Amy to no end when he does it out of nowhere.

The romance Sonic and Amy have isn’t only romance, but an updated version of their friendship. The ability to still be their own people even when in different places. Sonic and Amy are a power couple whose love for adventure strengthens their love for each other. The hedgehogs are equally as happy as when they were close friends. That is what keeps them attached.

That’s a rap! This most likely will never happen, but I don’t mind. Them officially being friends with crushes on each other is stellar and I’m satisfied with it.

#I LOVED writing this #if I continued this list would probably never end lol #At this point I think they’re kind of canon enough already #in a none bf and gf but still have crushes on one another kind of way #sonamy #sonic and amy #sonic x amy #sth #sonic the hedgehog #amy rose #sonic idw #sonic archie #sonic headcanons #otp ship #sonic frontiers #sonic frontiers final horizon #Sonamy headcanons

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bootleg-nessie · 2 months

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Predatory Bananas: an Evolutionary Horror

(Pls read, I literally spent HOURS on this <3)

A friend sent me the following video about the various potential methods of banana locomotion. It got me thinking. How would a banana move? Naturally, as an autist with a special interest in evolutionary biology, I took the joke a little too far and wrote a whole piece on the matter, analyzing the feasibility of each method and the changes they’d need to evolve in order to achieve them.

(Video courtesy of Burning Onion Animation on TikTok, they make great content, go check them out)

The first and most likely way bananas would move is if banana trees evolved to spread their seeds through their fruits rolling down hills like the morphology of #1 suggests. The only major mutations that need to happen are a more pronounced curve and increased rigidity to facilitate rolling and absorb the impact from falling from the tree. Overall, evolving to this point is relatively straightforward. #1 is the most feasible and realistic answer.

For bananas to develop motility like in #4 is theoretically possible with the right environmental pressures and with enough time, though much more difficult. I see this working in one of two ways. First, they could evolve rigid structures that change shape depending on moisture content, using natural dry/wet cycles to move a little more each time it rains, much like the seeds of Erodium Cicutarium (pictured below). The fruits of the banana tree would most likely evolve to have hooks on the end of said structures, contracting and pulling themselves forward a little each time they dry out, and relaxing and resetting their grip on the soil each time they get wet.

The second way I could see this happening is if they evolved true locomotion. True locomotion in bananas would take at least a few million years to evolve (probably more like tens of millions), and even then, movement would be incredibly slow. There exists a plant called the “walking palm” (socratea exorrhiza, pictured below) that’s capable of “walking” using its roots, but it can only travel about 20 meters per year in ideal conditions, and has the resources of the entire tree at its disposal, not just that of a single fruit.

While this is the more likely explanation as to how #4 might happen, it’s not what the video depicts. The video clearly shows a banana dragging itself along like an inchworm, indicating motor cells such as those present in Dionaea Muscipula (venus flytrap, pictured below). Whenever this type of movement in plants occurs, it takes an extreme amount of energy and is generally rather inefficient and slow. In addition to this, the banana is moving its entire mass every time, so it’ll have to move much more slowly to compensate. This means that the banana would probably only be able to travel a few centimeters before decomposing beyond the point of functionality. After a few million more years it’s possible that bananas could evolve to travel as far as several meters after falling off the tree, but the further they go, the more fit each individual fruit needs to be, and the more energy and resources they need. Eventually, it’ll reach a point where the energy expenditure will outweigh the benefit and the fruits will stop evolving to travel any further, which I imagine would plateau somewhere in the 0.5 to 3 meter range. However, the fruits still require a significantly higher amount of energy at this point because they’ve evolved to move autonomously, so trees would likely evolve to produce fewer, but more developed fruits as a result. Overall this is the second most likely way bananas would evolve to move, but the video depicts a time lapse, not footage taken in real time.

The next most likely option is #2, which is where things start to get much more interesting. At this point we are quickly beginning to leave the territory of the banana being a fruit and stepping closer towards the realm of the banana being its own independent organism. Whether the banana is still a single fruit from a larger tree depends on if the video is stabilized or not. First, let’s assume that the video has automatically stabilized the banana within the frame. This means that the banana is moving erratically and aimlessly, with the goal of simply moving as far from its origin as it can. The most simple form of this would be a ballistic dispersal method in which the banana grows curved and under tension, falling off the tree when ripe. Upon impact, the tension is released and banana extends, springing itself upward and outward with a single bounce. But this isn’t what the video shows either, it depicts clear and repeated movement, again suggesting the presence of motor cells much like those likely found in banana #4. In this case it probably evolved in roughly the same way as banana #4, but works less effectively due to having a less stable method of traveling.

But what if the video ISN’T stabilized, and the banana’s staying upright all on its own? In the video, the banana isn’t just moving along a single plane with one set of motor cells like the Venus flytrap. It’s full on galloping. This requires multiple groups of motor cells working together in a coordinated effort. This banana has real-time sensory input to orient and stabilize itself. This means that the banana has evolved some sort of internal gyroscope, much like our inner ear that helps it determine what up and down is, and more importantly, angular rotation. While plants have been observed reacting to and even predicting stimuli in ways that still baffle scientists to this day, this is far more complex than any plant every discovered throughout human history. Everything here points to something more, perhaps rudimentary intelligence, dare I even say sentience.

This begs the question: is it even a plant anymore? At this stage it’s evolved sensory organs and can move independently. But why? Organisms don’t evolve the ability to move without reason. This could mean one of three things. First, it could have evolved the ability to run as a means of spreading its seeds further. But this can’t be the answer. Moving more slowly would be way more efficient for a banana in terms of energy expenditure, and spreading seeds the old fashioned way is still perfectly viable, so it wouldn’t have evolved that way due to lack of necessity. This brings us to the first legitimate possibility: the banana is prey. If the banana were prey, then the ability to gallop most likely evolved as a means of escaping predators and to avoid being eaten. This is further evidence that the banana has evolved beyond being a humble plant as this goes completely against the purpose of fruits, which evolved to be eaten on purpose. Now, the banana’s goal isn’t to be eaten so that its seeds may be deposited elsewhere, its primary objective is to survive. At this point it’s relatively safe to assume that the banana no longer comes from a tree, and now reproduces through fragmentation, or perhaps even live birth. Its lack of leaves suggest that it’s evolved beyond being an autotroph and relying on photosynthesis. But if it no longer gets nutrients from a tree, how does it subsist? It must be getting its energy from somewhere. The most likely answer to this is that banana is a herbivore, and gets its energy from plant matter, which contains a lot of the same nutrients that the banana recently used to get by growing on a tree. Overall, this is the third most likely way the banana would evolve locomotion.

But what if it isn’t an herbivore? This brings us to the other possibility: the banana is a predator. The banana that concerns me the most is banana #3. While all the other bananas have undergone major changes to their morphology, banana #3 appears to be identical to any regular banana, yet it still moves. The only way that such movement could be possible is if the banana had some sort of internal mechanism that moves its center of mass around rather quickly within its outer shell, which also requires an internal gyroscope for balance. I know what you’re thinking; “but this is an incredibly complex mechanism, wouldn’t it be easier to evolve one of the other ways?” To which the answer is yes, it would. But this raises another question with an even more alarming answer: why didn’t it? The answer lies in the banana’s identical appearance to that of a typical Cavendish. Clearly, looking like an ordinary banana is central to its survival strategy. At this point, it’s evolved well past the point of being a fruit and has become the first of an entirely new kingdom of sentient creatures descended from plants.

According to my estimates from the video, banana #3 is only able to move at a pace of around a tenth of a meter per second, maybe a quarter or half of a meter at the most. This means that it probably didn’t evolve the ability to move as a means of running from predators. Based on the physics in the video, my best guess as to how the banana moves is through the use of mostly hollow internal chambers with a central mass (probably a calcified seed) suspended by tendons that can move in any direction, accelerating the banana in that direction. Here I’ve collaborated with the massively talented @pholidia to bring my ideas to light.

Picture it. You’re a lone banana farmer in South America. You’re out harvesting your crops when you see a single banana on the ground. It looks a little weird and bruised, but still totally edible. “No good in letting perfectly good produce go to waste” you think to yourself as you pick up the banana. You go to peel it when suddenly, you feel a sharp shooting pain through your hand. You drop the banana, then fall to your knees. You look around for the wasp or whatever it was that stung you, but you can’t find anything. You collapse in a heap on the ground, unable to control your body. It’s at this point you notice the banana start to move. “Are… are those teeth?” you think to yourself. At this point the venom has taken full effect. You are alone and completely paralyzed, unable to do anything besides observe the banana as it starts moving towards you. Sharp teeth and beady black eyes are fully visible now. It ambles towards you clumsily, moving almost as if it were being controlled by invisible strings like a marionette. It reaches you and starts to chew. It is at this moment that you discover, much to your horror, that the venom is merely a paralytic, and not an anesthetic. Helpless to the venom, you can do nothing but watch as your blood slowly drains out onto the ground as the creature consumes you. Slowly, your vision begins to fade to black. You pass out, either from the pain or the blood loss, you’re not really too sure. You take one last look at the creature, then you’re gone forever.

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dailyadventureprompts · 2 months

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Villain: Jysh'parun, Outergod of Unwelcoming Earth

As distant and ancient as a mountain, as scornful as an axebitten tree

Many philosophies debate and negotiate the relation of mortals to their environment. Some see nature as a thing to be tamed in the name of survival, domesticated, exploited. Others proffer a more symbiotic path, a holistic system to be protected and stewarded.

Beyond these there are the ravings of those claimed by Jysh'parun, who claim that mortals have no right to exist at all, and survive merely by the beneficence of the trees and stones. While all but the most foolish agree that heed must be paid to nature, none but those under the unwelcoming earths dominion would think that there is some geological-feudal hierarchy to which we must all submit.

This then is the paradox of the Unbowing Mountain: a god that claims the worship of things that do not traditionally think, but views nature through a distinctly mortal lens of domination and hierarchy. It's an absurdity bordering on being a joke, atleast until Jysh'parun's influence washes over the land and the forest marches off to war while the rivers start demanding tribute.

Adventure Hooks:

Having come into possession of a disused tract of land, a young farming couple were picking the stones from their new field in preparation for planting when they came across the petrified remains of some indescribable horror. Resembling nothing so much as a horse sized mandrake-root with teeth, they've reached out to neighbours, the sheriff, even the local wizard looking for advice about what to do... only to wake up one morning and find the thing gone. Theft or reanimation are both equally alarming possibilities, and the whole region has been on edge since.

Having been thought dead for years after being lost in a winter storm, a dwarven cartographer descends from the mountains claiming to be their mouthpiece and demanding sacrifices in their name. Her words at first go unheeded, at least until the glacial rivers begin to run with noxious acid, transforming back only when something living is thrown in. Farms and villages are drying out and grisly offerings of livestock now fail to meet her standards she claims the mountains will only be satisfied when the people of the realm throw their rulers in and swear fealty to the peaks on high.

The king's palace is in chaos after a coup took place in the royal gardens, specifically when the great tree that shaded his majesty's favourite thinking bench stabbed him in the back with one of it's branches and then skampered off to replant itself on the throne with the crown in tow. Before Anyone knew what was happening, greenery had overtaken the palace locking most outside while trapping certain vital hostages inside.

Inspirations: Something that's all too often lost in the "madness and tentacles" misinterpretation of eldritch horror is that much of the genre is spun off from the particular phobias of HP lovecraft. When we use the iconography without understanding the anxieties behind it, we risk creating a shallow B movie version of the horror we want our audience to feel.

To write good horror then, we need to draw off fears we understand, and with Jysh'parun I wanted to tap into climate anxiety in a way I don't think I've seen before. We've all resigned ourselves to the fact that climate change is happening, with the understanding that its being driven by the bullheaded egos and greed of people who are so powerful their perspective on life bears no resemblance to anything we could possibly conceive of. Translate their willingness to let us suffer for the sake of profit into a psudo historical fantasy context and you get the Unwelcoming Earth: widening sinkholes that demand tolls from passersby while an approaching tsunami proclaims the divine right of kings. It's not only absurd it's fundamentally idiotic but that it doesn't mean it won't destroy you and everyone you know.

Worshippers: Delusional druids and geomancers. Goliaths and dwarvenkind who get too into being "children of the mountain". Sentient trees, Living crystals, and other elemental entities who seek to put themselves "above" other forms of life. Corrupted primoridals.

Signs: Aberrations that resemble roots or stone spontaneously emerging from nature, acid flowing from normally clear running springs, statues of lordly alien figures carved from erosion, not tools. Proclimations in an unknowable script engraved deep under the earth or on monumental scale.

Symbols: A glyph resembling a mountain range or branches of a tree in the shape of a crown.

Titles: The Unbowing Mountain, The Insuperable, King of all Corners,

Artsource

#outergod #lovecraftian #deity #divinity: earth #divinity: disaster #disaster #field #mountain #highlands #encounter mountain #encounter highlands #Jysh'parun

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its-time-to-write · 10 months

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What about Jaime liking someone who works at/owns a flower shop so he keeps making excuses to come in and get flowers? Richmond is real confused about why he’s giving away so many bouquets all of the sudden

(Ps I love love love your work! I’ve got it so I get an alert whenever you post because of how much I love it!)

this one turned out SO CUTE I hope you like it!

wishing on every one

You know you’re fucked as soon as he walks through the door of your shop.

Then he tells you he’s looking for flowers for his mum who’s visiting him for the first time, and you know you’re extra fucked.

He’s absolutely gorgeous, especially in the soft light streaming through your flower shop windows, framed by the vibrant hues of the plants lining the shelves.

Then he says, “I’m Jamie,” peers at your name tag, and tells you that you have a lovely name. You’re blushing the entire time you lead him around the shop, answering each one of his questions as best you can without stuttering. He cracks jokes, picks out a nice bunch, and leaves you one flower for yourself on his way out.

And then, the next week, he comes back.

Jamie Tartt, AFC Richmond’s star footballer, comes back to your shop and flirts with you again.

Of course you know who he his, you knew the moment he stepped through the door. You live in Richmond after all, and you agree with the great Dani Rojas that here, football is life. It’s just hard to believe that your favorite footballer is back in your tiny little store and maybe sort of kinda definitely flirting with you.

You don’t let it get to your head (much). It’s Jamie Tartt, you’ve seen him on Lust Conquers All. To him, flirting is like breathing. You also don’t tell anyone, although you feel like you’re bursting inside. Your flat mate notes that you’re smiling more and that you always seem to be humming, and could you please maybe be careful when you’re skipping around because she just mopped the floor and doesn’t want you to slip.

But Jamie Tartt keeps coming back; first once a week, then twice, then about every other day. He follows you around as you help him choose flowers for all kinds of occasions, and then he’a gone again, leaving you to wonder which time will be the last.

—

At Nelson Road, things are in chaos.

Ok, maybe chaos is too strong a word. Things are… out of the ordinary.

Well, but things have been out of the ordinary ever since Ted Lasso showed up.

Things are… weird. Yeah, that’s a good word. They’re weird. And “they,” refers to Jamie.

It starts off simple enough. It's Sam’s birthday, so Jamie shows up with some flowers. He heard Sam say they were his favorites, so it makes sense that he’d bring them. No one notices anything.

The next week, he’s brought some for Ms. Welton.

“It’s for all the shit you do that we don’t know about,” he explains. “Didn’t want you to think we didn’t notice.”

Rebecca doesn’t comment on the double negative, just smiles and says, “Thank you, Jamie,” as Keeley sits forward on the couch in a slight state of shock. The Jamie she was with had never done something like that for her romantically, and here he is doing it platonically. Holy shit, he really has changed.

Rebecca also doesn’t take the flowers to mean something they don’t. She knows that the team looks to her with the same respect they would afford an older sister or even a mother (although she is not old enough). Strangely, she doesn’t mind. It makes her feel loved in a way she’s unused to, and the flowers from Jamie hang upside down on her wall so they can be immortalized.

Barely a week after that, he’s gotten some for Keeley. “It’s to make up for the ones I never got you,” he tells her. They’re all bright pink with fluffy petals. Keeley wraps her arms around Jamie with a squeal of delight. Roy grunts angrily, so Jamie pulls out a bunch of dark red and black flowers. “Didn’t leave you out, grandad,” he grins as Roy pretends to hate the bouquet. But even he isn’t cold-hearted enough to hate flowers.

Suddenly, people are getting flowers every other day. It’s become Jamie’s thing. Ted gets some sunflowers when he seems like he’s missing home a little extra. Will gets a bunch of sweet-smelling flowers that Jamie doesn’t know the name of, but he knows that purple one’s lavender because he remembers how you told him it reminded you of growing up. Dani gets a bundle of tulips and it almost makes him pass out from excitement, but luckily Isaac is there to catch him.

Dani is firmly seated on the bench in the locker room and Jan Maas has removed all tulips except one, and now Isaac has the chance to turn to Jamie and ask the question that’s on everyone’s mind.

“What gives, bruv?”

Those three words make Jamie turn bright red, but he shrugs it off with a laugh.

“What, can’t get me best mates flowers?”

“It is a little better than the PS5s,” Richard says. There’s a chorus of agreement, much to the surprise of Coach Beard.

Jamie thinks he’s in the clear and his face isn’t red anymore but then Dani says, “Jamie Tartt, why did you decide to give us flowers and not some other expensive gaming device?” and Jamie knows he’s completely and utterly fucked. He did not think this far. He has no excuse, no lie, so what comes out of his mouth is, “The flower shop girl’s fit,” and then the locker room completely descends into chaos.

The boys are firing questions at Jamie faster than he can even understand them, and Ted’s just laughing at the pure pandemonium. He remembers similar moments when coaching other football teams, American ones, and the good feeling that comes along with “boys being boys,” in the way the phrase was originally intended.

All pertinent information is successfully extracted from Jamie before the team heads home, except your name and which flower shop it is. Colin says that’s the most important bit, but Jamie refuses to tell them more than the fact that your laugh makes the sun shine brighter. Isaac nods thoughtfully and Roy shakes his head, but it’s with a fondness he reserves only for his team.

It could be any shop, really. There are conversations across the parking lot of the best way to figure out which one it is and Jamie’s getting nervous when he hears Ted’s voice call his name.

He turns, and Ted hurries over to where Jamie’s car is parked.

He carefully places a hand on Jamie’s shoulder (softly, unlike the crushing grip of his father) and looks Jamie straight in the eye.

“Jamie, life’s too short to beat around the bush. You like her. I think it would be best if you rose to the occasion and just asked her out. I be-leaf in you, son. You just gotta get clover it and do what you gotta do.”

Jamie doesn’t pick on the flower puns until about the third one. He’s laughing a little bit and Ted is too, all while regarding Jamie with a soft look that Jamie always wished his father would give him. Ted pulls Jamie in for a hug and says, “In all seriousness man, we’re rooting for you.”

Jamie gives him a look, which makes Ted hold up his hands in defense. “Alright, alright, I’m done,” he says. “For now.” Then he winks and headed to meet Coach Beard.

—

It’s the middle of the afternoon when the bell on your door jingles, and you look up from the register hoping to see Jamie.

Instead, you see a middle-aged man with a mustache smiling at you.

He says, “Howdy,” in a way that is so very American, that you can’t help but break into a wide smile.

“Hi!” you reply, “How can I help you?”

“My name’s Ted Lasso,” he says walking toward you. “I coach football here in Richmond.”

You’re still grinning. “I know who you are, Coach Lasso. I’m a big Richmond supporter. Have been since I was a kid.”

“Just Ted is fine,” says Just Ted. “I usually don’t like to introduce myself along with my job title because it makes me seem all uppity, but I thought it might make more sense if I did.”

You scrunch your nose in confusion so Ted says, “You were expecting to see Jamie today, is that right?”

You nod. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Jamie’s coach is in your flower shop and he knows that you like him and he’s probably going to tell you you can never see Jamie again because that’s the only logical reason he’s here, right? Maybe Jamie’s been skipping practice to be here with you and that all has to end now because football is life and you of all people should know that. Shit.

Ted must be able to see the panic on your face because he shakes his head and says, “Don’t worry darlin’, it ain’t anything bad. I’m only here to let you know that boy’s got it down bad for you.”

Wait, what?

“Oh,” you reply.

“Yeah, oh,” Ted chuckles. “Why’d you think he was here all the time?”

“I- I don’t know,” you say. “He flirts with everyone. I’m nothing extra special.”

Ted shakes his head again. “There’s where you’re wrong. You’re somethin’ extra special. Did you know I found you based on the way Jamie talked about you alone? He didn’t even give your name, but I’ve been in here once or twice myself and I must say, he was right when he said the sun shines a little brighter when you smile. I figured it had to be you the moment he said that.”

You’re smiling again. Jamie said that about you? To his coach?

Ted’s talking again. “Listen,” he says, a little more serious, “Jamie’s like a son to me. And sometimes dads need to give their sons a little push so they can get rid of their training wheels and just go for it, you know what I mean?”

You’re at a loss but Ted just grins. “I got here exactly three minutes before the boys take a break for lunch, which means that Jamie should be in here-” the bell at the door jingles “-right about now.”

“Coach?” Jamie asks, looking very adorable and very confused. “What’re you doing here?”

Ted shrugs. “Sometimes dads gotta take things into their own hands. Give you a little extra boost, as it were. Figured you’d be in here forever before you got the guts to make a move and by then Nelson Road would be completely overrun by flowers. Not that that’s a bad thing,” he says with a glance to you. “Anyway. I’ll be on my merry little way. Beard’s saving me a seat at our favorite lunch spot.”

Ted waves a two finger goodbye and pats Jamie on the shoulder as he heads out the door, bell ringing behind him.

“So,” you say, making your way around the counter over to Jamie.

“So…” he replies, looking down at you.

You take his hand. “Heard from a reliable source that you have a crush on me.”

Jamie grins. “Ain’t a crush babe, I’m a grown lad. Think it’s somethin’ a little more real.”

“Uh huh,” you say, smiling back at him. “Well it just so happens that I also have a crush on you as well as a thirty-minute lunch break that starts right about now…”

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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yourgentlegirlfriend · 9 months

Note

death island leon headcannons with his s/o??

HI babies, I’ve been trying to like keep up with requests and such and i stg i have had so much writing inspiration that i start writing to many things at once.

Here are some DI!Leon s/o headcanons!!

DISCLAIMER!! this is 18+ ONLY, please do not interact with my blog if you are underaged or don’t have age indicator in your bio!! thank you!!

DI!Leon x GN reader

not spell checked i’m sorry 💔

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- He is DEFINITELY sleepy all the time. Finally getting to see him after work always gets you so excited, rambling on about something you saw at the store today and when you turn the corner, you see him slouched on the couch, his head tilted back and mouth slightly open STILL in his work clothes.

- Before he crashed the bike, he actually really did love it. You’d open the garage to the door to see him inside, focused as all hell on god knows what

“You touch that bike more than you touch me”

you’d joke, hand on your hip as you leaned against the door frame. Leon would just look over at you, rolling his eyes playfully before finally coming back inside with you.

- Likes to act like he isn’t aging, though he is in absolutely perfect shape he often forgets he needs to take medication after his missions or his body will be sore. So when you walk into the room, your hand holding up the small pill bottle with his name on it

“Wasn’t given to you for no reason.”

“I’m fine.”

He would protest, going to sit up trying to hide the groan from the stretching in his lower back.

- He loves you more than anything. He makes that very clear when the two of you go basically anywhere. Anything you laid your eyes on in the store would be yours, anything you touched.

Your fingers rubbing at the petal of a flower, Leon’s eyebrows raising as he reaches over you and shoves the potted plant into the cart. And even when you argue he isn’t here for it at all.

- He’s not a very physically affectionate man, he hates PDA almost 50% of the time but sometimes when the two of you start your way into a crowd his fingers slyly wrap around your waist or grab at your hand.

- VERY overprotective, he’s so afraid of losing you but he would never admit it ever. When he found out about how you and your ex broke up he swore if he ever saw them, they were dead. He doesn’t mean it though, he knows that when he gets frustrated or anything around you, you get worried about him.

- Bed time is always the same every night, you always fall asleep first that’s just how you are. He sneaks in beside you, his nose resting against the back of your head as he pulls you into him, instant relief washing over him when you push yourself back into him.

NSFW WARNING

- Everytime he returns from a mission you know what it means. He comes home so frustrated that not everything works out his way, so he takes out all his frustrations on you.

Soft groans leaving his lips as his strong hands leave red finger print indents in your waist, your breath heavy as he fucks you into the soft mattress.

- He likes to pretend he’s “normal” but you can feel his steady rhythm suddenly stutter when you let out a whimper of his name.

- Aftercare with him is perfect, his fingers playing with your hair as the two of you just stare at the ceiling. It’s perfect till he says something corny like

“So the weather today”

And he thinks it’s so funny, but you just burst out laughing, his arms squeezing you as a smile spreads across his face.

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I hope you guys are doing great, for all of my readers starting a new college semester GOOD LUCK. You’re gonna do great! I love you all :))

For a limited time i’m doing paid requests and will write anything from ocs to different fandoms for any price, my job cut my hours and i’m SO behind on bills. :) click here if interested!!

#yourgentlegf #milascreams #leon kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #death island #re death island #leon kennedy fluff

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writer-in-theory · 10 months

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inspired by a conversation i had with @serenity-lattes over a fic i'm writing

"Hey, Steve, why didn't you tell us you had a brother?"

There were a lot of things that Steve still didn't know about his family. He didn't know his great-grandparents moved to the United States from Italy until he had to do an ancestry project his senior year, and he'd just learned last week that there were others on his mother's side with hearing loss like him. Still, Steve knew that despite all the secrecy, there was no way he had a secret brother.

"I don't have a brother," Steve told Robin as much, coming back into the living room to see Robin and Eddie huddled over something. "What makes you think that?"

"Harrington, I think dear ol' dad's lying to you," Eddie teased, handing over the paper they were staring at.

Birth Certificate

This is to certify that Robert Steven Harrington Jr weighing 8 lbs. 13 oz. was born on the 13th day of December to Robert and Theresa Harrington in the year of 1967.

"How the hell did you find my birth certificate?" Steve balked, watching his best friend and boyfriend stare at him like he had two heads.

"Your birth certificate?" Robin repeated, eyes drifting back down to stare at the paper in his hands.

"Who else's would it be? Am I missing something?" It wasn't too uncommon for Steve to miss the joke, especially with people as quick-witted as Robin and Eddie. Still, this one seemed particularly confusing to even the others, with all three of them staring at each other in complete cluelessness.

"No, no, no," Eddie spoke up then, snatching the certificate out of Steve's hands and holding it up to the light like that might make reading it easier. "There is no way I'm dating a Robert."

Wait...

"You thought my legal name was Steve?"

Was that all this was? Steve didn't fully understand the big deal, especially since he'd never once gone by his legal first name. Even as a kid his parents were calling him Steven, eventually caving and calling him Steve as he wished by the time he entered middle school. He thought everyone had known by now, what with Tommy choosing to call him 'Robert' whenever he was upset with Steve.

"Why would I think anything else? Steven Harrington, how could you not tell me!" Robin shouted, playfully hitting his shoulder when all he did was laugh.

"Robert Harrington," Eddie corrected, immediately pulling a groan from his boyfriend.

"Uh uh, you're not calling me that," Steve decided, taking the certificate back and tucking it away in the drawer where they'd found it. Tomorrow he'd have to dig through the house and hide anything else he didn't want them to see, including any pictures his mother might have left lying around.

"How about Junior?" Robin tried, bursting into laughter at Eddie's responsive cackle. "I mean, who knew someone would go by a nickname of their middle name?

"Are you two done yet?" Steve groaned, tipping his head back to look at the ceiling.

"Aw, c'mon, Robbie, you love us." That was Eddie judging by the arm quickly slung over Steve's shoulders and the kiss planted firmly on his cheek. "I just can't believe you didn't tell us that Stevie isn't your name."

"Stevie has never been my name," Steve laughed, stepping away from Eddie's hug and laughing when the man's arms reached out to hold onto him tighter. "I'll take it over Robert."

"I knew you loved it, baby," Eddie teased, laughing at Steve's expression.

Then Steve grinned, turning to face Eddie so he could lean in close. Right as Eddie licked his lips in anticipation of a kiss, Steve patted his cheek and said, "Baby, you didn't even know my name."

He and Robin laughed until they could hardly breathe, but Eddie was the one laughing when he had the entire Party calling Steve "Rob" the next morning.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #stranger things #steddie ficlet

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nortism · 5 months

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What the Ghosts have been watching on TV

Everyone

Channel 4 Home renovation shows: They're free with ads and there's an infinite amount of them so Alison puts them on for the whole gang when she and Mike have work to do in same way people put on YouTube videos for their dogs. This has backfired slightly as all the ghosts now have very strong and conflicting opinions on how Button House should be renovated.

The Great British Bake-off: A whole family event, they all get very invested. Kitty thinks Alison Hammond is the funniest person in the world. The Captain feels normal about Noel Fielding. As well as a watching it live, I'm sure they've also watched the whole back catalogue together.

Mama Mia: This where the Captain learnt his ABBA songs from. Pat and Julian enjoy the nostalgic music and I think the others are just bewitched by the story and music

Robin

Anything David Attenborough: For obvious reasons. I think he'd get a kick out of trying to do his voice. The others sometimes join in.

Cunk on Earth/ Britain: I think they've got a similar attitude towards history and I think he'd find serious historians trying to answer silly questions incredibly funny

Horrible Histories: He watches this with Kitty, they both find poop jokes funny.

Humphrey

Antiques Roadshow: I'm not sure why. I honestly think he's just glad to watch anything.

Mary

Gardener's World: I think she misses being able to look after plants and I think she'd be endlessly fascinated by how hosepipes work.

Mio Mao: She loves them fucking plasticine cats. She will not stop singing the theme song

Honestly think she'll watch anything with anyone and would get invested, she seems like the ideal person to watch telly with.

Kitty

Ru Paul's Drag Race: I think they all watch this every so often but Kitty is invested. There's bright colours, fun outfits and drama, it's definitely Alison's go to when she needs Kitty distracted.

90s and 2000s romcoms: I believe that every couple of weeks Alison and Kitty have a "girl's night" where they watch all the romcoms that Alison used to watch with her mum, mostly because I love watching romcoms with my mum and Kitty deserves that. Kitty is particularly fond of Twilight.

Thomas:

Any Jane Austen adaptations: He watches them with Fanny as they were both big fans when they were alive (its the only thing they agree on). Kitty also joins sometimes. His favourite is the 1995 Pride and Prejudice tv show.

Fanny:

Grey's Anatomy: I haven't seen it but my mum's a big fan and there's millions of seasons, I think she'd pretend she's not that into it but she definitely is.

Call the Midwife: Same as above.

The Captain:

M*A*S*H: I've seen about half an episode of this but it seems to be about fit young men in a war so it sounds like his thing. Probably Pat's recommendation.

Our Flag Means Death: I think Alison has been trying to sneakily show Cap gay media under the pretence of saying "it's just a fun show about pirates". I think the whole gang watched it together. The Captain definitely didn't cry at the end of season 1 why would think that?

Pat

Taskmaster: I think this is one they all watch together but it's definitely one of Pat's favourites. He probably attempted to set up his own version of the show with the ghost which ended horribly.

Doctor Who: I think he watched the original run when he was alive and was absolutely ecstatic to find out they made more. Julian makes fun of him for it.

Julian

Have I Got News For You: Has been airing since 1990 so he definitely watched it while he was alive. I think he likes to keep up with current politics but not in a very serious way so this is his middle ground.

Succession: I haven't seen this show but it seems to be about horrible men in suits being horrible to each other which seems right up his alley.

The Thick of It: Speaking of horrible men in suits being horrible. I think he watches this with Robin who has absolutely no idea what's going on but just laughs when Julian does and they have the best time. Julian is constantly pausing to add his own anecdotes

What We Do In The Shadows: Alison put this on as a 'let's show the Captain it's ok to be gay' show and the Captain was immediately horrified so Julian adopted it. He identifies with Lazlo.

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mitsies · 1 year

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clementines ; aki hayakawa

aki hayakawa hates your guts. unfortunately for him, he's stuck with you for an investigation.

aki hayakawa x reader, forced proximity, huddling for warmth, rivals to lovers, confessions, fluff fluff fluff! - wc: 2.5k

aki hayakawa doesn't see your appeal.

you're pretty, sure, and you can be funny sometimes (not that he'd ever dignify your humor by laughing at your jokes), and you've got a good head on your shoulders- but he just can't bring himself to like you. he's not too sure why.

you make him feel weird, in a way he's not very familiar with. his stomach turns when you're near and his palms go sweaty, and his throat runs dry. it feels like his heart is on fire and his blood is burning beneath his skin when you're near- he doesn't think he likes it.

and so, when aki realizes that you're the only person left to accompany him on an investigative mission, he's not the happiest in the world.

"hurry up," he states dully, as you flit around the devil hunter's headquarters in search of your coat.

"forgive me for not wanting to freeze my ass off outside."

"you don't have an ass to freeze off."

you freeze. "that was a low blow."

aki shrugs and turns, beginning to walk towards the exit. "you're taking too long."

"okay, okay, jesus. fine. i guess i'll just get hypothermia and die."

you're tailing him now, as he opens the door for you. "thank god."

you shoot him a wordless glare and his stomach drops- he isn't sure why. he doesn't talk to you again as he enters the driver's seat of the car.

you slide into the passenger's seat as he begins to drive. "so.. we're going to shinjuku? what for?"

he side-eyes you. "did you even read the information about this assignment?"

you shrug. "i skimmed it."

aki exhales. "we were given an anonymous tip about the gun devil's whereabouts."

you straighten at this, and he continues: "there's a system of old underground tunnels at the location we're headed to. we're checking that out."

"oh."

aki wants to punch you at that moment, because he looks over and sees you mulling over your thoughts and you look so good even when you don't mean to. he returns his eyes to the road.

the drive is quiet, except for your occasional statements or questions. aki's responses were brief and rude, and typically deterred further conversations. silence had settled around the two of you by the time you'd arrived at your destination.

the entrance to the tunnels is located on the outskirts of shinjuku. they were overgrown with ivy, and puddles of murky water are splattered around the entrance. aki watches you as you frown at the entrance.

"this looks like it's going to be gross." you dip the heel of your shoe into a puddle experimentally, watching as greenish sediment swirls around.

"you're going to have to get over it." your eyes shift to him at his words and suddenly aki's skin is burning, despite the chill of the tokyo night.

you're visibly irritated by him, and you roll your eyes and march into the tunnels. "of course. you're so right, as always. what would i do without you, the great and powerful aki hayakawa?"

the way you say his name sends a thrill of ice down his spine. aki pretends it was just the cold as he follows you inside.

you were right. the tunnels are indeed disgusting. they were obviously occupied at one point- the main passageway branches off into many different rooms.

each room, though, was either empty or lost to time. skeletal furniture and unidentifiable plant growth is all that's left. cobwebs gather in the corners and more filthy puddles collect in divots on the floors. the air smells heavy of mildew, and it's enough to make aki's skin crawl. he wonders how many people have died down here.

to your credit, you don't comment on the apparent ick-factor of the location. you diligently search every room, attentively leaving no stone unturned and pushing aside your own discontent.

aki might not like you, but you're undeniably good at your job. he can't fault you for that.

eventually, though, the both of you reach the end of the tunnels. at this point, you're deep underground. the light of your flashlights is the only thing illuminating the path forward.

"so, that intel was a bust," you state with a tight grin. aki scowls at you. "no shit, idiot."

you huff and turn away. "there's one room left. if we're lucky, that'll have what we need."

you open the door and, to both of your surprises, this room is fully furnished. aki is quick to enter behind you, letting the door close after him.

it's a small, cramped space, with a dust-covered desk in the center. the walls are lined with bookshelves that look like they haven't been touched in years, and an ancient rug that undoubtedly carries a disease or two lies on the floor.

"would you look at that," you start, turning to aki with glittering eyes, "maybe i'm magic."

he looks away from you, his heart burning under your gaze. "start looking."

you pour over the books, skimming covers and leafing through pages, while aki examines the desk. ultimately, though, he comes up empty-handed. he turns to you and sees that you've also found nothing of interest.

"i guess we got led on," you sigh.

"damn it." frustration bubbles up within him, and aki exhales heavily. he doesn't want to yell at you. he really could, and he kind of wants to, but he knows it's not your fault that he's pissed off.

he pulls out a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, and you raise an eyebrow. "you can catch as many diseases as you want, aki, but let me and my nice clean lungs have their peace, please."

he wants to make fun of you. he wants to call you a coward, or some other trivial insult, because his blood is suddenly smoldering underneath his skin and it's all your fault for looking at him. but he just shoots you another glare before beginning to the office to light his cigarette in the hallway.

but as soon as he opens the door, a deafening crush of rock rains from the ceiling. the earth trembles and aki must've really, really pissed mother nature off because he's sent crashing back into the office's filthy stone flooring.

the collapse of the tunnel's roof ended almost as soon as it began. the thunderous rumbling ceases, and you're suddenly at aki's side.

"you're hurt. don't move." you stand, on edge, to try and survey the scene.

"i'm fine," aki tries, attempting to get up- but the world begins to spin and his leg hurts really fucking bad and he's back on the floor.

you let out a snort of laughter. "sure you are."

aki wants to say something but he snaps his jaw shut, watching from the ground as you pull open the office's door. a wall of massive rocks encases the entrance- some smaller ones begin to tumble back and you hop away with a small noise.

(aki thinks he might have brain damage, because he's smiling now. he bites the inside of his cheek to hide it.)

"okay," you declare, "we're kind of stuck here."

(aki is no longer smiling.)

he tries to stand for the second time, only to be humbled by gravity yet again- this time, you catch him before he slams into the stone flooring again.

"god, are you okay? do you have a concussion?" he grumbles something incoherent in response to your concerns. he sits leaning back against the wall as you fuss and examine him. (he hopes you don't catch how he has to look away because his face is undoubtedly flushed over your meticulous gaze.)

"oh my god," you start, as your eyes trail down to his left leg.

he tries to see what you do, pulling the pant leg up a bit, revealing his gnarled ankle. it's bruised and already bluing, with an ugly gash on the side. he's not sure how he didn't notice the blood before.

he pulls his pant leg back down. "whatever. we've got to find out how to get out of here."

you stare at him, unimpressed. "we're definitely stuck, aki. promise."

he wants to protest but he knows you're right. "god."

"yeah."

he tips his head back and closes his eyes in frustration- he has to have the worst luck. the sound of rustling clothing brings his attention back to you.

you're unbuttoning your plain black vest, which was your own addition to the devil hunter's plain uniform. aki always thought it looked good on you, though he'd only ever chided you about it for violating the dress code.

you pull it off of you and roll up the sleeves of your white button-up. he stares. "what're you doing?"

you glance up at him, and there's mirth in your eyes. "saving your life from the infectious diseases down here, hotshot."

aki rolls his eyes. he hates how helpless he feels, being unable to walk and underneath your watch. he can do nothing but observe as you wrap your vest around his cut leg deftly. your fingers brush against his skin, sending sparks throughout his nervous system.

once you're done tending to his wound, you retreat, and sit on the desk after dusting it off a bit. aki didn't realize how warm you were until you'd gone away.

"how long do you think we'll be here for until the other two come to get us?"

"probably a few more hours. they won't come until morning, at the earliest."

you purse your lips. "unfortunate. i was going to have chinese food tonight."

aki raises an eyebrow. "you can cook?"

"no," you say with a crooked grin, "but i have a takeout place on speed dial." i'm a horrid cook."

"i can imagine."

you laugh, and aki feels like he has just been given a warm hug. "what, are you a professional chef or something? who are you to judge me?"

he tries not to smile, but he thinks he does a poor job of it. "i could be a professional chef when compared to you."

you're grinning now, tilting your head with amusement as you tuck one leg underneath yourself on the desk. "you should teach me how to cook sometime."

and there's that feeling again- the unpleasant burn of every blood cell within aki's body, the thundering of his heart, the whirlpool in his gut. he impresses himself when he's able to form a coherent response. "maybe i will."

conversation flows between you and aki like a dam has been removed. he's still a little rude, and you still respond a little passive-aggresively, but it's easier to talk to you than aki remembers it ever being.

he begins to realize that he's not too sure why he disliked you in the first place. you were pretty, and you were intelligent. you had musical laughter and a sense of humor to match. you cared about things and people, and aki dared to think that he was one of them.

you were lying down on the desk now, hair fanning out behind you when you asked him what his favorite food was. you were hardly visible in the dim lighting, only discernable due to the white glow of the flashlight.

"i think oranges."

you pull yourself up. "oh. same."

"oranges are good."

"they are."

you pause for a second before brightening. "actually, wait-"

hopping off your desk, you fish around in a small messenger bag that you'd left on the floor at some point. you produce a small, brightly-colored fruit- a clementine.

"not quite an orange, but," you smile, moving to sit near aki on the floor, "i always keep one on me just in case."

you hand him the fruit, and he looks at you. "in case of what?"

(aki doesn't realize, but all the cruelties and demeaning words have died off his tongue. he doesn't care for them anymore, he's content with your company.)

you shrug. "bonding moments. i tried to give one to power before i realized that she's more of a... y'know. blood fan."

aki laughs.

(he's just as surprised as you are.)

he tries to compose himself as swiftly as possible, peeling the clementine gingerly. he splits the fruit in half, giving you the larger one.

the two of you eat your share in silence, an unspoken bond forming like ice over a freezing lake. aki thinks he likes clementines more than oranges now.

"you know," you say, after you're done with your slices, "i'm pretty sure you hate me. am i wrong?"

he freezes at your bluntness. "i don't... hate you."

he steals a glance at you. you're sitting with your knees pulled close to your chest, and aki takes in your side profile. he sees the curve of your lips, the slope of your nose, the taper of your chin- and he realizes that he could never hate you, not when he's in love with you.

oh.

aki hayakawa is in love with you.

"really? because you're kind of mean sometimes." you say it like it's a joke, but he can tell you're serious. he's still taking in his own realization, so for a few seconds, he just opens and shuts his jaws like a fish out of water.

he notices you shivering, and he realizes that you must be freezing- you lost your coat, after all, and your vest was currently tied around his bleeding leg. he shrugs off his blazer, and drapes it across your shoulders.

"i don't hate you," he struggles to get out. he looks away, and you blink.

"i don't hate you, too."

he expects the conversation to end there, but you keep going.

"i like you a lot, actually." you say it like it's a fact, like you didn't just put your heart out on a table for him to dissect. you don't look at him, either, even when he whips his head around to stare at you.

"oh."

"yep."

"thanks."

"uh-huh!"

aki doesn't know what to say. you seem content with the silence. he is not.

"you're cold," he states after a brief lapse in conversation.

now you look at him. "i mean, i was. but you gave me your jacket. i'm good now. thanks, by the way."

"no, i think you're still cold." you tilt your head at him, confused, before realization sparks behind your eyes.

"oh. oh, you're right. oh, great and powerful aki, i am so very cold and in need of warmth this fine, frigid winter night."

he rolls his eyes, awkwardly shuffling closer. until your shoulders touch and your legs are in line. he barely stops himself from exhaling sharply when your head falls onto his shoulder.

your body is warm against his, like a space heater, and aki doesn't think he's ever felt more alive. his hand absentmindedly finds its way around your waist and he feels your heartbeat pick up.

"goodnight," he finds it in himself to whisper a few minutes later.

you're already asleep.

(the next morning, aki wakes up to you standing up by the carpet, which you'd moved to reveal a wooden trapdoor, leading to daylight- an escape hatch.

you stare at him. he stares at you.

"we suck at this," you whisper as if it's not just the two of you in the room.

aki grimances.

"you do," he says, even though he doesn't regret a single thing.)

author's note: plz ignore anything wrong i have not watched csm🤭

#aki hayakawa #aki hayakawa x reader #aki x reader #csm x reader #chainsaw man x reader #hayakawa aki #hayakawa aki x reader #chainsaw man #aki #reader insert

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